From Dusk to Night

by KuroiTsubasaTenshi

First published 23rd of May, 2014

Trouble. It follows me around like an unwanted pet. The kind of pet liable to maul my friends' faces. So I tried to face the demon alone. But no one can face life alone and my friends... They're less fragile than I gave them credit for.

Trouble. It follows me around like an unwanted pet. The kind of pet liable to maul my friends’ faces.

From a random stalker to illicit organizations to long-lasting feuds, I tried to face them alone. But life is give and take and no one can go it alone.

This is the tale of a foolish young mare, her friends and how nothing could break their bonds.

---

Interested in seeing things from Night's perspective? Check out Mending Light, Invidlord's contribution to our collaboration.

Due to taking place in the same universe as Evil's Twilight, this story only uses canon up to and not including the season 3 finale.

Beta Reader Special Thanks:

Invidlord
TerribleTransit
Pannic/BillyColt
Thattagen
Meta Four
Sereg
BrokenHero
Hazzdawg
Yami Vizzini
The Handle/Blank!
War877

The Following Characters Belong to Their Respective Owners
Night Flurry (Invidlord)
Terrabona (TerribleTransit)
Mahogany (BrokenHero)
Starshadow and Merriweather (Thattagen)
Blizzard Breeze (Jqlgirl)

1 - First Impressions

I first noticed him at the meeting for the first winter's fall. No, that's not quite right; that was when I first noticed him noticing me.

A moist, gritty scent—almost taste—hung in the air. The kind that makes a pony feel like it's slipping into her coat, between each of the hairs and sticking. But if she were to look for it, the grime would fail to materialize. Thankfully, such an uncomfortable combination was rare, typically only occurring when pegasi fighting wild Everfree rainstorms mingled with those tending to the dry, dusty weather within Ponyville.

With almost the entirety of the weather team sitting around the town hall's auditorium, the odds were not only high, but realized. Not that we were crowded or anything like that; if we had spread out, each of us could have stretched our wings without even touching each other. The smell was just that strong.

Rainbow Dash stood amongst a dozen diagrams, all of which were pinned to a few rollout corkboards. She had just finished her usual spiel: speeding through the plan followed by a long, blunt and somehow simultaneously vague motivational speech. Thankfully, the plan was pretty close to what we'd done last year, so few, if any, details were lost between the cracks.

We'd just started to mingle and I don't even remember what I said, just that I could feel his eyes turn. They pored over my charcoal coat and blue, tied-up mane, stopping momentarily on my teal scarf. And in that instant, that blue pegasus stallion, who normally spent every meeting—and that's if he even bothered to show up—hiding in the corner behind that large, brown cowlick, got my attention.

It was not Night Flurry, specifically, who set off my subconscious alarms. In fact, the only reason somepony as innocuous as he did so at all is because I made it my business to take an interest in those who took an interest in me.

Awareness was a skill that was constantly surprising me, demanding more and more effort as time went on. At first it was rote training, an aspect of my mother's regimen. Then it was practical, keeping an eye out for bad people as my merchant father plied his trade; apparently having just one guard makes someone a target. Too bad for them that that guard is my mother. Next, as I set out on my own, a lone mare on the road, it, and the wingblade hidden in my scarf, were the only things that had my back.

And yet, for all my supposed experience, I'd been unable to see that good deeds would not necessarily be reciprocated. Some people, especially those with immense reach, don't appreciate good intentions. They might even hold a grudge. Through my own folly, I found myself watching, extra aware of every person, analysing each move. For not everyone is who they appear to be and all it takes is one slip to cause an avalanche.

So I kept my eye on him, carefully meeting his gaze as I trotted toward the main doors. He seized up, looking like he was going to crumble under his own weight. He was either a good actor or easily impressed. Whatever the case, I'd need time to tell. I made a mental note to find out more about him.

---

He started following me around. It was weird, but so unsubtle that my gut leaned heavily toward a genuine crush. I had to wonder if he even knew my name was Dusky Down or if he was simply too busy fawning to think about that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure which was preferable.

My sources, a perk of being my father's daughter, came back quickly and without anything mind-blowing. Night Flurry was the typical Cloudsdale-born weather pony, with a side of falling-out-with-family. Despite his disposition, he made a go at joining the Guard, but dropped out soon after. I figured his enrollment might have had something to do with the family and that they weren’t too pleased with his giving up.

Following that, he moved to Ponyville to take the night shift, which was just about a guaranteed solo job in smaller towns. Given his extreme aversion to meetings, I suspected he saw the solitude as an advantage.

At first, I wasn't sure how I wanted to deal with him. Even assuming my information was all there was to him, firsthoof observation is always preferable. It was too soon to confront him and besides, I had more pressing matters on my mind.

Among the more mundane reports, I received word, yet again, that the situation around Pasture continued to stagnate. For as much scrutiny as the mayor was under, he certainly had a knack for maintaining the status quo. Long before I’d even met my friend, Ivory, the mayor had set his sights on her. He was a greedy stallion looking to off the kindest pony I know, and all because she was in his way. I always worried for her safety, which was a little weird, given that her magical power far surpassed my martial prowess. I guess it might have had to do with the fact that she often pulled her punches.

And while winter had simply begun, the season in general always stirred up memories. Memories of shouting against the howling wind. Memories of the chill, colder than ice, that touched my spine when I realized that Twilight Sparkle; the Winter Wrap Up lead, a heroine of Equestria and the mare I was supposed to be guiding, had vanished into thin air.

I still had nightmares; dreams of a mob’s blood-crazed eyes, of a snowy white void swallowing my friend whole, of the empty eyes of a possessed unicorn before she unleashed a torrent of lightning.

No, I could deal with him later. And perhaps his blustering around might even scare off any real stalkers.

My first thoughts of major reconsideration happened about a month later. I was taking the long way home, treading one of my favourite paths; not that anypony could tell the path was even there. A delicate blanket of fresh snow stretched over the hills and dirt road alike. The only reason I even knew I was on the path was because I’d walked it more times than I could remember. No matter the season, there was just something beautiful and serene about the landscape.

I padded along, taking in the sounds of the soft powder creaking underhoof, while the fresh scent of undisturbed snow drifted up to my nostrils. I have nothing against the city, given that they’re usually the targets of my travels, but sometimes nothing can beat a quiet walk through the countryside. I suppose one could say that it reminded me of the open road, a warm nostalgia that could stave off my wanderlust for just a little longer.

As my eyes slipped over each drift and crevice, they were drawn to a fuzzy, blue blot. It was half-embedded into the snow with not a single hoof print around. I looked up, squinting as the sun snuck through bits of the overcast sky to jab at my eyes. No one in sight. Of course, I knew he was probably somewhere up there. The cloud cover was just too convenient.

I sighed as I approached the object. If I had to wager a guess, it would have been that he had lost some sort of outdoor wear and was too shy to come down while I was still here. The only catch with my theory was that I couldn't remember him ever wearing anything of that sort.

That was when I noticed the little yellow tag, the part that wasn’t stuck in the snow reading ‘To Dus’. My mind froze, several long seconds inching by as it did a double-take. Once I’d recovered, I wanted to fly right up to him and ask just what he thought dropping a random gift in my path would accomplish.

But I didn’t. The rational side of my mind stepped in, saying that while he didn’t know me, neither did I know him. It was not so long ago that I’d judged Ivory without really knowing her—and nearly lost a potential friend forever. If I could get past my reservations with necromancy, surely shyness wouldn’t be a problem.

I looked up again and called up to the clouds. “Thank, you!”

No reply but the wind. I’d hoped the gesture would persuade him to come down for a proper talk, but perhaps it was too little, too soon.

With a short sigh, I tucked the earmuffs under my wing and resumed my walk.

I felt a smirk spread across my lips as I caught the tip of a brown cowlick poking out of the clouds.

2 - The Bar

I pushed my way through the doors of The Lusty Sea Pony. While I did not particularly like bars over, say, a nice clean diner, I had to acknowledge that it was a good place to find loose tongues. I’d also somehow managed to accumulate friends with a tendency to binge, which made going something of a social necessity.

The Sea Pony was a bit of an oddity, with its rosy-cheeked namesake calling out to sailors from the large, gaudy sign out front. This was because as far as I knew, the bar’s clientele consisted of exactly zero sailors. Not that I could blame the blushing seapony, though, as it wasn’t her fault she was stuck in a landlocked town. Sure, we had a river, but I had serious doubts that anything bigger than a canoe could fit in it.

I’d once questioned Barkeep on his decision and he’d simply shrugged and said, “I like sea ponies and this was the only place I had the bits for.”

And yes, Barkeep is what he goes by. I’d also once asked him if he had another name we could call him by, but he kept insisting that we use Barkeep. To be fair, given the kinds of names we Equestrians tend towards, that very well could have been his real name.

In any event, somehow, the Sea Pony hadn’t gone under. I suppose the sheer novelty of the theme, as well as being one of only two bars in the town, had something to do with it.

Tonight’s plan was to meet my friend, Terrabona, for the usual night of chatting and drinking away some stress. That is, she’d guzzle half a keg’s worth of whiskey, while I nursed a glass of cider. We always sat facing the door. Terra, so that she could call every new stallion hot and nudge me toward him. And me, so that I could assess everyone in general. Oh, and prepare to roll my eyes at the ‘Mistress of Matchmaking’.

As I stepped into the common area, I was bombarded by a dozen incoherent conversations, intermingled with the heavy scent of hay fries and alcohol. I made a quick scan of the crowd before letting my eyes drift over to our usual table.

To my surprise, I found our table occupied by not one, but two green unicorns. On my left, with the unruly red-orange mane, was Terra. If the giant grin on her face and the empty glasses were any indication, she was already on her third drink and more than a little tipsy. She waved her forehoof in that wobbly, off-kilter kind of way that always made me think of a giant noodle.

On the right was the newcomer, a taller, more muscular pony. Pale blue strands flowed down her neck, falling over her scaled barding, as well as half-concealing a pair of sheaths. While the blades were a possible cause for concern, the barding was the most eye-catching. The scales, each of which were painted to match her coat, looked less metallic and more like they came from the hide of something I couldn’t recognize. Whoever she was, she was a professional.

She seemed to be ignoring Terra entirely and didn’t even bother to acknowledge my approach. Instead, she chose to pore over a book that was easily as thick as an encyclopedia.

I kept an eye on the stranger as I slid up beside Terra. “Hi, Terra.”

“Hi, Dusky!” Terra’s grin widened.

“New friend?” I tilted my head toward the newcomer.

“Yeah! Let me introduce you! Starshadow, this is Dusky. She’s all serious like you. An’ Dusky, this is Starshadow. She’s like a Guard or somethin’.”

I was no expert, but if there was one thing I knew for certain: the Guard loves its flashy plate barding and uniforms. Whatever Starshadow was wearing was clearly custom. “Really? That doesn’t look like any Guard armour I’ve ever seen.”

“That is because I am not one of your Guard. I am a knight of Ostfriesen.” Starshadow didn’t even look up.

Ostfriesen…? The name took a moment to click, my mind hastily sifting through non-Equestrian geography. Wait a second, that’s a three day flight to the east!

In the past, I’d hardly given the place any thought. With the surrounding badlands infested by some of the world’s most-hardened and dangerous monsters, it certainly wasn’t on my summer vacation list. But with somepony who was supposedly a real live denizen right there in front of me, my mind was suddenly very full of questions.

But she seemed less-than-talkative and pestering her was only likely to make her even less so. I’d have to get her to warm up to me first, and that was almost certain to be a difficult task. In the very least, somepony was making a trip to the library tomorrow.

I opened my mouth, but the creak of the Sea Pony’s doors pulled my attention away. In walked two familiar pegasi, the first being Mahogany, another one of my drinking buddies.

Despite his tendency of outdrink Terra, toned muscles gave shape to his rust-coloured coat, a testament to his fitness. He owed this, not to weather work, but to his job as a courier for the Equestrian Parcel Service. I think anypony would get that fit if they had to make long flights pulling many times their weight behind them.

The second, half-hiding behind Mahogany’s parcel cutie mark and the short grey tail behind that, was Night Flurry.

What the? Now there’s something I didn’t expect. I wonder how long until he has a meltdown.

Terra turned to me, not even attempting to whisper. “Oh! New hot stallion alert!”

“Terra, that’s Mahogany.”

“No, the other guy!” She pointed her hoof.

“That’s Night Flurry.”

“Oooooh, you know him!” Her grin grew and grew, until I thought she’d found a way to swallow her own muzzle.

“Not really, he’s just another pony on the weather team.”

“That’s even better!” Terra leaned her neck against mine as she got that far off look, the one that always told me she had one thing in mind: meddling.

I sighed, resisting the urge to push her away, lest she faceplant on the floor. “Terra, look. Just because I know his name and we’ve been in the same room together, it doesn’t mean we belong together. If that was the case, I’d be dating half of Ponyville. Besides, he doesn’t even like other ponies enough to show up for meetings.”

“So maybe he’s a little fixer-upp—”

“Don’t even start.” I shot a glare her way before raising a hoof to wave at Mahogany. He stopped just long enough to wave once before continuing toward the bar. He’d be back, of course; he just needed to get his first couple glasses of the night. While Night Flurry was practically glued to him, I somehow suspected it wasn’t because he wanted in on the whiskey.

Terra drummed her hooves on the table and leaned over to Starshadow, showing off more of her ‘discreetness’. “She’s a tough shell. Maybe she’s into maresh.”

I rolled my eyes, not because there was no truth in Terra’s words, but because she was so relentless about it. To be perfectly honest, a good physique, whether stallion or mare, will get my cheeks a little rosy.

The real reason was I just wasn’t interested in romance. Anyone who got close to me like that could become a target and that wouldn’t be fair. One might then argue for one night stands, but the very prospect of using someone like that makes me uncomfortable.

“Mmm, maybe I’m into maresh,” Terra said, breaking my reverie. She leaned forward, so close that she might as well be nuzzling Starshadow and started sniffing.

I blinked. Sure, drunk Terra could get flirty; in fact, that was practically a given on a night like this. But I’d never seen her be so forward and the whole hitting on other mares thing was new too. I found myself torn between amusement and confusion.

“Uh… Terra?”

“Have you been with maresh? I bet you have.” Terra not-whispered into Starshadow’s ear.

Starshadow spared her about two seconds for a sideways glance. “No.”

“Terra.”

“What?! You’re telling me a schexy thing like you never tried?!”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon! Don’tcha wanna have shome fun?” Terra’s grin widened. “Jush one kiss?”

Starshadow turned so that she was almost muzzle-to-muzzle with Terra. A soft blue light played over both of their faces as Terra leaned forward… and stopped. Blue auras surrounded both Starshadow’s horn and Terra’s muzzle, keeping them separate.

A confused expression washed across Terra’s face, which, after a few moments of struggling, melted into a blank stare.

Eyes narrowing, Starshadow stood up and tilted her muzzle just enough to be looking down on Terra. “No.”

And with that, Starshadow returned to her book.

Despite all that, Terra continued to stare. I was about an inch away from facehoofing.

“Terra!”

“What?” She gave me a half-dazed look and I couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or if she had actually been that smitten. I decided I didn’t really care.

Doing my best to keep a neutral expression, I spoke through gritted teeth. “Stop. Antagonizing. The armed pony.”

“Okay.”

I blinked again. Something about that was too easy. Usually, when she got focused on her whole matchmaking bit, she had to be dragged away, kicking and screaming. Granted, it was a rare occurrence for her to be the subject of her own meddling, especially with that level of intensity. I suppose I didn’t really know what to expect. Regardless, I kept watching Terra for several minutes, but she had become far more interested in her drink.

“Ladies!” Mahogany smiled as he took a seat, slamming his ‘Buzzard’ glass down in front of him. It’s a concoction of whiskey and whatever soda suits his fancy, a fact the straight-drinking Terra loved to rib him for. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t even enough liquid left to splash out the top. It was a bit of a shame, really; I missed the days when he would flail his head around, desperately trying to catch every droplet on his tongue. Granted, I wasn’t even sure why he did that, given that he had no qualms about licking it off the table.

“Gentlecolts.” I smirked. “Only one tonight?”

“Nah!” Mahogany turned to Night Flurry, shoving him up to the table with a wing. “I just got my best bud, Flurry, here to help me tonight!”

A pained look washed down Night Flurry’s face as he gingerly slid a second, dangerously-tilted glass onto the table. I really couldn’t help but feel sorry for him; the way he was shaking, I half-expected him to spend the rest of the night hiding under the table.

“Let me introduce you to my drinkin’ pals! This here’s Dusky, that’s Terrabona, an’... an’...” He pointed to each of us in turn, his hoof freezing at Starshadow. Lowering his hoof to the table, he leaned forward and squinted. Then before anyone could say anything, he snapped to. “Terra Number Two!”

I couldn’t help but snicker, waiting for Terra to take a jab at him, but it never came. Instead, she was locking lips with her glass. When Starshadow made no motion to assist, I turned back to Mahogany.

“That’s Starshadow, a newcomer and definitely far too sober to be a clone of Terra.”

“Huh. Well, nice to meet ya, Starshadow!” He extended a forehoof.

“Hi.” Starshadow looked up just long enough to give Mahogany a hurried hoofshake.

“Not too talkative, eh? How’dja even meet, anyway?”

I cast a glance at Terra, who was still muzzle-deep in her drink. “Terra was already getting all… friendly with her when I arrived.”

“An’ she wash jus’ here, sho I deshided to shay ‘hi!’” Terra threw her forelegs up and grinned.

“Haha, ‘kay! Well, this here’s Night Flurry, mah best bud! He’s new too!” Mahogany wrapped a foreleg around Night Flurry and pulled him close. Night cringed, shrinking under the sudden enthusiasm. I had a distinct feeling he’d never seen this side of Mahogany before.

Terra stared sadly at her empty glasses, seeming to forget that there was a bartender not more than ten feet behind her. I supposed she was reaching the point where even that was too much work. Her eyes drifted to the side, finding easier prey. Mahogany’s untouched glass started inching toward her.

With eyes wide, Mahogany brought his hoof down. “Noooo! Get your own!”

“C’mon! Can’sha share?” Terra fluttered her eyelids. I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it, but there was a strange… almost lack of enthusiasm behind it.

“No! Mine! Get your own!” Mahogany held the glass tight to his chest, nuzzling it like he would a foal. Or rather, like he would if he actually liked foals.

“Fine! Maybe I will!” With a whirl, Terra fell flat on her face. I rushed to help her up, ignoring her endless insistances of “I’m okay! I’m okay!”

Mahogany laughed as he trotted round to our side. “You sure you can even handle one more, Terra?”

“Shut up! I can and you know it!”

“Okay, okay. Just one more. I got this, Dusky. S’my turn, anyway.” And with that he braced Terra against him and guided her toward the bar.

“Grab me a cider while you’re at it!” I called after them. Mahogany waved a wing.

I took my seat back. Night was simply staring, having not moved the whole time and Starshadow, well, she didn’t seem to be affected by anything. Night Flurry shrunk away as I turned my gaze to him. I groaned inwardly as I looked to Starshadow instead, wondering if she’d somehow be more social.

“D-Dusky! Hi!” Night said, his voice modulating uncontrollably.

“Uh, hi.“

“I-I’m N-Night L—F-flurry!” He dug his hooves into the table and it trembled. It was a good thing he wasn’t heavier, otherwise he might have ended up with a compressed muzzle.

“So Mahogany said.”

“Haha, he did, didn’t he? Ha...” Night Flurry looked away, his ears wilting.

A frown slipped over my lips. I had serious doubts that we could carry on a conversation, at least if he was going to continue being so jittery.

“Sooo, Starshadow, you said you’re a knight, right?” I asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Night Flurry’s ears perk up and his eyes brighten. Perhaps I could get two birds with one stone.

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Do you mind if I ask about Ostfriesen?” I smiled, waiting for Starshadow to look up.

She stopped and stared, her eyes boring into me with a sort of dull disbelief.

“What?” I tilted my head as I felt my lips slip. Hopefully I hadn’t offended her.

“You are the first to ask further,” was her matter-of-fact response.

“I am?”

Starshadow nodded. “The ponies here always become silent and move on when I mention Ostfriesen.”

I felt the heat of embarrassment flood over my cheeks, even though I had had no hoof in her experience. “Oh, um… sorry about that. That’s not your fault. Towns this far in don’t do so well with foreigners.”

“And yet you ask.” It was Starshadow’s turn to tilt her head.

My smile returned and not entirely of my own will. “I’m a traveler. You might say visiting other places has left me more open-minded.”

“A traveler? Do you not wish to see it for yourself?”

“Of course, but… I’m afraid the wilds there would be a bit much for somepony like me.” I tapped the table with my hoof, hoping my admission wouldn’t ruin our conversation.

She looked me up and down, a chill creeping over my body wherever her eyes fell. I knew she wasn’t staring at me in that way, but I almost would have preferred a lewd look over such a cold appraisal.

“I suppose not,” Starshadow said at last. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything. I’ve only ever heard the name in passing.” I could feel the excitement rising in my chest. Knowledge that I never thought I’d have was suddenly within hoof’s reach. While it wasn’t firsthoof, as I often preferred, beggars can’t be choosers.

Starshadow stared at her book, though she wasn’t reading. Somewhere in the middle of that unrelated text, she was plotting a starting point. “Our country is led by Queen Papaya and her council, which is comprised of our most experienced knights.”

Night Flurry’s ears perked up again. The more I thought about it, the more I was starting to see another motivation for his enrolment in the Guard.

“Their chamber sits atop the Spire of Strength, a great stone tower in the centre of Castle Tapioca, our capital. The castle is named for Queen Tapioca, the first of the royal lineage. She is said to have taken on an Elder Wyrm in single combat and survived to tell the tale.”

Night Flurry’s jaw dropped. In truth, were someone able to see into my mind, they’d know I was just as taken aback. Aided by an inkling of skepticism, I kept my composure. Even among the few legends that reached Equestria, this sounded like a bit much.

“That’s quite the feat. Although, given what I’ve heard of the monsters in your region, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Are the creatures of the Everfree not comparable?” Starshadow fixed me with that hard stare again.

“Maybe? I don’t know. Few ponies go in willingly and even fewer choose to pick fights.” I resisted the urge to call them insane.

“I see. Then perhaps it is time that someponies did.”

I blinked and stared at Starshadow. “That’s… uh, very brave of you.”

“Bravery is part of our duty.” Her eyes returned to the book for a moment, though her voice did not falter in its conviction.

“Erm, right…” I suddenly felt even more out of my league.

A mug of cider plopped down in front of me and relief, as cool as the drink, washed over my face. While I still had many questions for Starshadow, the talk of heroics was beginning to weigh on me. Too many bad memories. I glanced over my shoulder in time to catch Mahogany and Terra’s return.

“Whew! Long line! Shtotally worth it, though!” Mahogany grinned as he lifted his wings and four more glasses clattered onto the table.

“Totally.” Terra trotted up beside me, swaying with each step.

“E-excuse me…” Night Flurry squeaked out as he backed away and headed for the bar.

I raised an eyebrow. “Where’s he going?”

“For a drink. I think.” Mahogany shrugged.

“He drinks?” I watched Night disappear into the crowd.

“Nah. Not yet, anyway. He goesh fer that tea junk. Yuck.” Mahogany made a face.

“That why you bought four more glasses?” Turning back to the others, my eyes drifted over the alcohol stockpile.

“Nah. Ish just fer Terra an’ me.” With a wide grin, Mahogany pointed to himself. Or rather, tried to: he was a few inches wide.

“Yeah!” Terra chimed in. “Anything he drinksh, I can too!”

I shook my head and stuck out my tongue. “Fine, but just so you know: under no circumstances am I carrying either of you home.”

3 - Weather, Whims and Fillies

The next day brought a strange collaboration with the previous night. I was called to the edge of the Everfree to help fight off a rogue cold front. While the temperatures were hardly deadly, they were still far less than the day’s allocated low. Plus it was good practice for when the wild blizzard clouds would inevitably try to move in.

I’d promised myself that I’d never let a storm like the Great Winter Wrap-Up Catastrophe happen again, even if I had to face it alone. Such… recklessness is always ill-advised, even against a controlled storm, but when letting it go was, historically, magnitudes worse, there isn’t much of a choice in the matter.

My logical side was always quick to remind me that I should never be in a situation like that again, that it was gone for good. The one with no name had been struck down by the Elements; Princess Celestia herself had assured us of its destruction. And yet, some part of me couldn’t quite believe, or perhaps it was that I feared there were more of… whatever that thing was, out there.

Oddly enough, I found my thoughts drifting toward something else. I was skirting the edge of one of the most dangerous places in Equestria; one that Starshadow seemed wholly unconcerned about not only entering, but fighting the denizens of. It’s not that I didn’t believe her. She definitely didn’t seem the type to blow hot air and that’s discounting the fact that something about her just exuded power.

But I’d also seen proof of their strength. I’d watched those small, demonic bugs nearly devour our town, all the while impervious to conventional attacks. I’d seen an angry astral bear, no smaller than a house, rampage through our town square. Any attempts to confront it directly only made it more pissed off. And then there were the evil… worm things. Sightless, growling, gnashing and seemingly endless, they’d swarmed through the streets.

That somepony wanted to fight things like those, and on their home turf, no less, was something I had difficulty wrapping my head around. But then again, I was no warrior, which was the fundamental difference between she and I.

The shift was short, but intense, with my thoughts driving me into a worker’s trance. Before I knew it, I’d already flown back to the weather office and logged my hours. Lingering sweat clung to the inside of my coat as I stepped out into the nearly vacant town hall.

As with most smaller towns, the office didn’t have its own building. Rather, the town hall had renovated a subsection of its rooms to suit the team’s administrative needs.

I turned my attention to the wall, where a small, colourful poster was pinned. I’d seen it on the way in, but decided to take care of business before giving it any attention. An ice sculpture of a mare sat inside a red and white tent, beckoning to passersby to play her games. In somewhat less vibrant lettering was the date, given for the weekend after the next, and the declaration of Fetlock Falls Winter Festival. I raised an eyebrow.

Ads for out-of-city events weren’t exactly uncommon, but Canterlot, with its sheer size and close proximity, tended to dominate the market. That a small town several hours to the north like Fetlock would bother putting up a poster over here was a bit odd.

The door creaked and I turned in time to see a large, green-blue pegasus mare emerge. Her mane alternated between a deep navy and a floral blue-purple, eventually combining to form a long, mish mashed braid. A pair of flight satchels sat on her back, each, bearing a vibrant blue S, adorned with snowflakes at the middle and ends. As the cutie mark drifted through my mind, her name stirred within my memory.

I’d only met Blizzard Breeze a couple times and only that much thanks to her and Mahogany being old weather college buddies. She only stopped in occasionally, always in a hurry to reach either Canterlot or Fetlock Falls. By now, I had little doubt as to who’d put that poster up.

“Hi, Dusky. Been a while, hasn’t it?” She flashed me a friendly smile.

I nodded. “Yeah. Finally sneaking in some personal time?”

“Maybe a little.” She prodded her bags with a wing. “I still have some posters to put up. Speaking of which, are you interested in the festival?”

“I was thinking about it. Been a little restless lately, so I was actually looking for an excuse to slip out of town for a weekend.” My mind silently added, Because of the laundry list of issues I’d like to forget for a day or two.

“Well, there you go. We’ve got a whole carnival set up, plus there’s even this big ice sculpting competition going on.” Blizzard flourished her forehooves. “Both of our inns are almost completely booked.”

I blinked, even knowing that inns in small towns aren’t particularly big; I had still clearly underestimated just how much of a buzz this event was generating. “Wow, going all out, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Once this puts Fetlock on the map, we should be able to get funding like this every year.” Blizzard grinned widely.

Well, that explains the pushiness. Ice sculptures aren’t really my thing, but it was a convenient enough opportunity to break things up a bit. Plus I didn’t really mind showing support for a friend of a friend. “In that case, you can definitely count me in.”

“Great." She clapped her forehooves together. "You taking the train?”

“I usually fly to these types of things.”

“Sure. But if you change your mind, we’ve got group discount rates at the Ponyville station both mornings and same thing for Fetlock at night.”

Quickly doing the math in my head, factoring the endurance saved, I guessed that I might be able to squeeze in another hour and a half of time with the festival if I took the train. I’d have to double check to make sure I had enough bits to cover such an indulgence, but it was definitely something to consider. Especially if I were to convince Terra to come with me.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

While my part-time schedule made my timing inconsistent, checking in on Terra at her store the day after a night of drinking had become something of a ritual. By the time I’d finished up my conversation with Blizzard and snuck home to inhale a quick tulip sandwich, the day had already reached mid-afternoon.

As I approached the store—a small hole-in-the-wall squeezed between a fast food deli and a watch shop—with the warmth of the sun at my back and the cold of the snow crunching beneath my hooves, I recalled our first encounter.

It was a day much like the current one, though my younger self was in much more of a hurry. I’d been planning my project, a small wooden chest, for a while. Ironically, it was likely that planning that made me give in so easily to whimsy. That morning, I’d decided I’d done enough design work and that that night was the night to build it. I’d already gotten my hooves on the necessary lumber, but no matter where I looked, I couldn’t find hinges or a hasp of small enough size.

The work day was on its last legs and I was about to give up and plan a shopping trip to Canterlot. And then I saw it. Terra’s Knickknacks, a hoof-painted sign read.

A wide front window, which barely left room for a door, gave me a pretty good view of the inside. Shelves and bins ran every which way, with only a minimum of floor space to access them from. The bins in the window had the most random of things, from a chair leg to the kind of tiny plastic figure that comes with board games to a steel bracket.

Sold on the idea of finding my misfit pieces inside, I’d nosed the door open. While I wouldn’t have described it as well-lit, I could hardly call it dingy, either. I remember trying to pore over each bin and shelf as I sought the store’s counter. The sheer volume and randomness of knickknacks had been staggering. If I had known Pinkie better at the time, I might have asked if she helped stock the store.

Despite the general helterskelter organization of Terra’s shop, those dusty bins and shelves had left me with a warm, comfortable feeling. I suppose it was like poking through the back of my dad’s wagon again. I’d almost expected to hear him call out, Dusky, find me that third era griffon throw rug.

Terra was never good at hiding her hangovers. While she always put significant effort into smoothing out her coat and mane, the veins spider-webbing over her eyes, as well as the bags underneath, betrayed her. There was a reason she had the counter installed in the furthest corner of the shop.

At first, I’d attributed her binging to the stress of being a business owner, but she really just likes whiskey a bit too much.

I remember our conversation starting just like any other store banter: greeting, small talk, inquiry. Then she found what I needed in less than a minute, darting here and there among the piles, as though it were a highly-organized inventory.

When I’d expressed my amazement, she’d grinned widely and pointed to the toy hammer on her hindquarters; she called it a representation of her ability to find little odds and ends that ponies don’t think much of until they really need it. While my dad worked on a larger scale, it was impossible not to be reminded of him.

Terra being Terra, she insisted that I tell her about my planning cutie mark: the pencil-in-gear sitting on my flank. She was rather… amused when I told her that I got it after proving one of my designs: a process that involved repeatedly stabbing myself with a sewing needle.

I couldn’t resist talking shop, and neither could Terra. This invariably led to learning that Terra’s parents were also traveling merchants. It was rather liberating, having someone who would understand what I was saying without extensive explanation, or even just being interested in the world at large. While I made plenty of acquaintances during my time attending school in Ponyville, I’ve found that my fellow citizens can be quite… insular, to say the least. She was the sister I never had. And that pretty much sealed our friendship.

Shaking the nostalgia from my mind, I pressed toward the shop, which had changed very little over the years; even the weather had barely marred its appearance. I nosed the door open, trotting through the empty shop and taking the shortest route to the counter.

Terra looked about as hungover as usual, at least for that point in the day. She slid her romance novel behind one of the bins as I approached.

“How’s the day been treating you?”

Terra groaned. “It’s been a day, but soon I’ll be able to kick back and relax. Weather work been good?”

“Tough. Wild weather’s been giving us a bit of trouble lately. I think I’ll be looking forward to that spa trip too.” I smiled warmly, the rise of my lips fueled by the anticipation of a good back massage.

“Spa? Oh, yeah, right, haha…” Glancing off to the side, Terra tapped a hoof against the counter.

“I swear, one of these days I’ll come back from one of my trips to see that you’ve found a way to marry whiskey.”

Terra stuck out her tongue. “Only if you marry the road f—”

The door swung open, crashing into the door bumper hard enough to echo through the store. My muscles tensed as I turned to the newcomer, but quickly found I had little cause for alarm. In walked a pale, purple-coated earth pony filly with a reddish-brown mane. Her hooves were caked in mud to such an extent that I wondered if she’d just raided someone’s garden.

“Young lady, don’t you dare track mud in here again! Wipe your hooves!” The hangover's effects were gone, replaced by an ire that suggested Terra might just leap over the counter.

The filly jumped and seemed to notice us for the first time. She hastily scraped her hooves across the worn welcome mat. “Y-yes, ma’am!”

I looked back at Terra, but her gaze was still fixed on the filly. Terra’s eyes did not leave the filly as she shoved her head into the various bins until finally coming away with a tin bucket. Nor did they stop when she approached the counter and paid for her purchase.

It was hard to believe Terra would make such a big deal out of a little bit of mud. I didn’t want to suspect a foal of shoplifting, but that was the only thing I could think of that would merit such an intense stare.

Even when the filly joyfully trotted away, bucket in mouth, Terra’s gaze remained.

Once the door slid shut, I raised an eyebrow. “You seem a little ornery.”

“You would be too if you had to ask her three times not to track mud into your clean shop!” Terra flailed her forelegs.

I peered back at the bins and shelves, most of which still had visible layers of dust on or around them. “Clean? Have you seen your shelves lately?”

Buckling down, Terra directed the stare at me. “Well, I don’t need more dirt in here.”

Yeesh, that hangover must be way worse than she’s letting on.

“Sooo… what are you doing next Saturday?” I asked, only too glad to change the subject. “I’m going to check out the Fetlock festival and was wondering if you and Mahogany wanted to come along.”

Terra blinked. “Oh, um, I would, but I’ve already got a date with this cute stallion…”

“The one from the spa?” I refrained from adding, ‘that made eyes at you for all of two minutes’.

“Yep!” She perked up.

“See?” I smirked. “You don’t need whiskey to find dates.”

“But I like whiskey,” she protested.

“You sure do.”

Terra drummed her hooves on the counter. “I think Mahogany has to work all weekend again. Say, why don’t you ask that new guy?”

“Night Flurry?” I sighed. “Well… I don’t know about him.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

I found myself counting the specks on a nearby shelf. “I want to give him a chance to be friends. I mean, there must be a reason Mahogany calls him his ‘best bud’. It’s just… it seems like he can’t even hold a proper conversation.”

“That’s not good.” Terra frowned a moment before perking up. “But hey, Mahogany got through to him, right?”

“Odds of Mahogany having been too drunk to remember how?” I tilted my head.

“Uh…” Terra laughed nervously as she glanced out the window. “It’s about time I closed up. Why don’t we just forget about that for now and do that spa thing we were gonna do?”

4 - Setups

I trudged toward the Seapony, exhaustion rippling across my body with each step through the foot-deep snow. Even half-buried under the fresh powder, the sign’s blush almost stood out like a beacon in a storm. I say almost, because the storm had finally, and thankfully, already passed. In its place was the pale, purple-orange glow of the coming evening.

Eight of the last ten hours of my life had been spent foalsitting that patchwork excuse for cloud cover. We had to maintain the allotted snow depth in order to ensure the most optimal spring, but an ordering error had made our job several times harder than it needed to be.

Whoever was in charge of cloud creation had put in for snow clouds much heavier than we needed. With the day upon us, we had no choice but to deploy all the clouds, calculating on the fly when and where we needed to dismantle them; if we'd simply let the clouds do as they would, the whole of Ponyville would have been buried by now.

A day of flying through winter drafts and picking off the right clouds as quickly as possible had left me cold and sweaty. It was for that reason that I didn’t object when Terra and Mahogany insisted we go to the bar much earlier than usual.

One warm shower later and I was on my way over, already anticipating the sweet taste of cider. As I approached the door, I wondered if Starshadow would be there. I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing more of Ostfriesen over a drink or two.

The Seapony was empty, almost embarrassingly so and our usual table was the only one with any occupants. From left to right, Night Flurry, Mahogany and Terrabona sat around a small pile of empty glasses. While I still refused to carry Terra, I had a feeling the night was going to end with me helping her remember where she lived and how to operate a door.

I expected Terra and Mahogany to be deep into their usual competition, but tonight their focus was on Night Flurry; his eyes were closed and body tensed in that way people tend toward when they’re about to do something difficult.

Half of my brain expected Terra and Mahogany to start chanting, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” The other half reminded me the glasses were all on Mahogany and Terra’s side of the table.

Then Night Flurry opened his mouth. “Dusky, since the first day I saw you, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.”

My brow furrowed as his words settled in my mind. Did… did I just step into a romance novel?

“I... I'd been trying to get the courage to talk to you, but, I couldn't... I gave you the earmuffs you found. I left them there for you.” he continued. “And now, I just wish that I could be brave enough to tell you... to say how much I love you... and to hope… That you'd look at me... and maybe see... just how special you are to me...”

Yep. This is a thing that is happening. I felt a frown form as my eyes flitted over to Terra.

She was frantically flailing her forelegs: a meaningless gesture to Night Flurry’s closed eyes. I gave her a flat look, which was answered by a shake of her head. But her sheepish grin betrayed her.

As Night Flurry finished his speech, I turned to Mahogany, whose eyes were hiding in the farthest depths of his drink; his muzzle quivered around his clamped lips, barely containing the flood of laughter that would have surely crushed his friend’s spirits. The awkwardness was so thick, I could have cut it with a knife.

This is so the wrong night for this shit.

Night Flurry opened his eyes. “I... Terrabona? Why are you… what’s wrong with your legs?”

“Oh, uh... Hi, Dusky! Fine evening we're having!” Terra’s shout was almost deafening.

“Uh, hi,” was the best I could manage.

“Um... what?” Night Flurry went rigid and it was clear that if he wasn’t paralysed by his realization, he would have been out of there in a heartbeat. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head. “H-hi?”

I had no words. All I could do was stare, wondering just how I was supposed to respond to something like that. Or if he would even offer an explanation.

Night Flurry began to melt, each second bringing him closer to becoming a puddle of embarrassment. “I... did... how... um... how long were you standing there...?”

With a casual push of her hoof, Terra slid one of her whiskies toward Night Flurry. It stopped just before it could dump itself all over his chest.

I shot Terra a questioning look before turning back to Night Flurry. “Long enough to hear the whole thing.”

“Um... oh…” Night Flurry grabbed the glass and drained it before either Mahogany or I could protest. We were in the midst of mutually surprised glances when it all came back up onto the floor.

Even though my mind was filled with irritation at his presumptuousness, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. To say he was up the creek with a wing cramp and no paddle was an understatement.

“Well... I meant it,” he said. The creek had just emptied into a lake.

"I could tell." I eyed him up and down.

Night Flurry practically fell over himself as each pair of legs attempted to take a separate route to the door. “I should... I should probably go…”

Yeah, probably, was what my knee-jerk reaction would have been if I hadn’t caught it in time. Another part of me nagged, turning my head toward Mahogany, who looked more dumbfounded than I’d ever seen him. I sighed, knowing I would likely regret what I was about to do.

“Wait, Night Flurry. Can we talk? In private?”

“Um... Yeah... yeah... wherever you want…” He pushed himself to his hooves.

I led the way toward the back of the bar. Terra gave me a stupid grin as I passed her and I shot her a glare in return. During tomorrow’s hangover visit, we were going to have a long chat.

At the rear of the Seapony was a quartet of large, private rooms. They were set up much like the common area, with the only real difference being that they were normally rented out for functions. I was quite certain Barkeep wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one for a couple minutes, though.

I trotted into the nearest empty room and pointed Night Flurry toward a table near the back. He obeyed without question, though his hopeful glance left me a bit wary. If he was expecting me to suddenly come out and proclaim that I also secretly loved him, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

Pressing the door shut, I started silently counting to twenty.

After about ten seconds, Night Flurry looked over, confusion plain on his face. I held up a forehoof and, surprisingly, he remained quiet.

Just a little longer.

The tell-tale tip-tap of swaying, drunken steps touched my ears, growing louder as they neared the door. Then they stopped.

I let the silence linger for a few seconds more before calling out, “Terra, I know you’re there! Cut it out!”

There was a grumble, followed by the clomp clomp clomp of departing hooves. Distant cackles that carried Mahogany’s distinct deepness interlaced each step. His subsequent shout was barely coherent enough for me to make out.

“Toldsya! Both ofsya!”

Once the sound had completely faded away, I let out a sigh and turned my attention to Night Flurry.

Taking the seat across from him, I stared until he finally met my gaze. “Look, Night Flurry, the whole romantic speech thing is flattering, but we hardly know each other. It makes the entire thing lose all of its weight.”

Night Flurry sighed and lowered his head. "I... I know... maybe... I um... well... this is my fault... I knew I shouldn't have listened to them..."

“Terra?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Right.”

Night Flurry inhaled like it was his last breath. "Maybe it's just a crush, but maybe not... I don't know... I really want to learn more about you, and to make this work.. but... I'm... I'm not very good at it..."

“Okay, slow down.” I resisted the urge to rub my temples. “Let’s start at friends. It’s simple and will let you sort your feelings out. From there we’ll have to wait and see. And if you’re really serious about getting to know me, the first thing you have to do is stop following me around.”

His cheeks flushed and he just about slid under the table, a nervous smile forming on his lips. “I... would like that. T-to be friends. I'm... sorry. I'll just... take it down a notch... a few notches.”

"That would be a good start." I gave him a reassuring smile. The whole talk would be a waste of time if he ended up too high strung to remember any of it.

"I won't make any promises that I'll stop feeling this way... but... I'll try to keep it more... um... civil... sorry..."

“I guess that will have to do.”

He squirmed and opened his mouth again, but this time the words seemed to catch entirely in his throat. Several seconds dragged past before he finally coughed them out. “Th-there’s this festival… in Fetlock. W-would you like to go? A-as friends, of course!”

I pondered a moment. A public function like that certainly wasn’t the worst idea. We needed to do something outside of the bar, something where he would be more in his element. And if his cutie mark was any indication, a snow festival was just the right thing.

Giving him a stern look, I nodded. “I was already planning to check it out, but I wouldn’t mind the company of a friend.”

Night Flurry’s face brightened. “Yes! I mean… yes, so, um, I can get the train tickets in the morning.”

“Actually, I was going to fly.” I glanced at his wings. “Can you handle the distance?”

“Oh…” He squirmed a little. “Um, yeah. I-I think I can.”

“All right, I think that covers everything, then. We should get back; the others are probably wondering what’s taking us.”

“Dusky... I'm sorry... a-and thank you. For understanding and for... for being willing to stay friends…”

With a smile, I glanced back before turning to the door. “Just remember what you said and we’ll get along just fine.”

---

Our conversation had taken even longer than I thought; by the time we emerged, the bar’s usual festivities were well underway; the common area was nearly deafening compared to the private room, in a testament to the back room’s soundproofing. Night Flurry trailed in my wake as I pushed my way through the crowd.

I expected to return to a torrent of meddling, but Terra was distracted by yet another newcomer. The reddish-brown unicorn mare was tall and muscular in a way that reminded me of Starshadow. Bold maroon locks washed over partially camouflaged barding. Much like Starshadow’s, it was painted to blend with the coat, but tiny, unserviced nicks exposed the scales’ true, dull grey colour. Wrapped around her barrel was a heavy saddle, with a large satchel on one side and a holster on the other. A small crossbow, the kind built solely for magical use, sat snugly in the holster, with no effort made to conceal it.

Unlike Starshadow, this second Ostfriesen pony seemed more than happy to match Terra’s forwardness.

“Yes, yes, I am. I’m supposed to meet Sis’ here. Hope you don’t mind if I hang out and enjoy the view~,” the newcomer said, her voice drifting off into an odd sort of singsong, to a tune only she could hear. Her eyes flitted over to Terra’s hindquarters.

The matchmaker and the flirt.

“I see you’ve found a new friend.” I took my usual spot at the table, where all the whiskey seemed to have bred and multiplied.

“Yeah! ‘Er name’sh Countesh Merriweather! She’sh Shtarshadow’s shister!”

“I gathered.”

“She said alla booze's on her t'night. She'szuh bes'!” Mahogany chimed in.

Well, that explains a lot. I cast a sideways glance at the heroically large stockpile of whiskey again. “I’m going to repeat this again, just so we’re clear: I’m not carrying anypony home tonight.”

“That’s okay, they can stay in my room~,” Merriweather grinned.

Oh, Celestia, she’s not just a flirt, she’s that kind of flirt. Fighting back a frown, I gave her a onceover. “On second thought…”

Merriweather slid closer to Terra, pressing up against her neck. I fully expected Terra to play along, but instead she just looked confused. After a few long seconds, she experimentally poked her muzzle into Merriweather’s forelock.

I don’t know why it stuck out to me so much. There could have been any number of explanations, from whiskey-induced spacing out, Terra being unsure about somepony who was more flirty than she, or perhaps just having second thoughts about being into mares.

“So, um… Merriweather,” I began, trying to give Terra an opening to pull back if she needed to. “When are you and Starshadow supposed to meet up? I was hoping to chat with her a bit more.”

“Oh, 'bout ten hours ago.” She leaned back and waved her hoof.

“I’m sorry. What?” I raised an eyebrow.

“She’shgon' use magic to go back in tiiiime, duh! Even Flurry know’zat!” Mahogany laughed as he wrapped one forehoof around Night Flurry and slammed down his umpteenth empty glass.

“I… I, um, do?” Night Flurry’s voice barely rose above the crowd.

Merriweather giggled. “Nah, I just made a little detour~. She’ll get over it.”

I thought back to Starshadow’s oh-so-warm response to Terra’s advances. “Yeah, I’m sure she won’t be mad at all and will have no issues with you arriving so late.”

“Exactly! ‘Sides, she’s always cooler after a kill and she should have bagged at least a couple by the time she gets back.” A glass floated up to Merriweather, wrapped in the pink glow of her horn. She waved a hoof again before slamming the whole thing back.

Mahogany clapped his hooves together. “I like her already!”

“Wait, kills?” I knew the answer, but was almost afraid to ask. “In Everfree?!”

“Yep! I think…” Merriweather poked the empty glass. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what she must have said.”

“That place is dangerous.”

“Good thing Sis’ is more dangerous.” Merriweather grinned.

I frowned, but decided to let the subject rest. Having never seen Starshadow fight, I had no grounds to argue. Shifty as Merriweather was, I had to admit that she probably knew her sister better than I was giving her credit for.

“Well, good. Scrounging up a search party for a place like that would have been… tough.”

“‘Scuse me,” Terra said, finally parting from Merriweather’s embrace. “Gotta use the filly’sh room.”

She stood and started stumbling in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me too,” I hastily added before dashing over and bracing her with my body. “Here, Terra, it’s this way.”

“Oh, yeah!”

The journey took about twice as long as it should have, but it was decidedly a blessing in disguise. We arrived just as a trio of mares departed, leaving us with an empty washroom.

Thankfully, Terra’s business didn’t involve emptying her bladder, which saved me from the awkwardness that was trying to help her into a stall. On the other hoof, her spending the next couple minutes standing at a sink, splashing cold water on her face, wasn’t exactly encouraging.

I stepped up beside her, looking for signs of non-alcohol-related issues. “Hey, Terra? You going to be okay?”

Terra stared at the mirror as though her reflection was her arch-nemesis. Nearly a full minute passed before she finally opened her mouth. “My schexy is gone.”

There were a lot of things I guessed she might say. That was not one of them. “Um, what? Terra, you’re not making any sense. Do you mean you’re not on your game tonight?”

“Uh… …” She trailed off, gaze still glued to the other her. “Shhhure, le’s go with that!”

I sighed. “This is the last time I let Merriweather pay your tab.”

5 - Ripples

“C’mon, Terra, stop dragging your hooves.” I glanced behind me. Terra was a full five gallops behind, despite keeping pace with me just a block earlier. But now, just a few feet from the Seapony’s door, she was shuffling forward, like a foal dreading homework.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she mumbled, staring past me—and the door.

I peered at Terra, trying to decide if she was attempting to hide some kind of injury or illness. But, at least at first glance, nothing seemed particularly off. “You going to be okay?”

Giving me a half-smile, Terra broke into something resembling a trot. “Yep. I’ve just had a long day. I’ll be fine after a few drinks.”

“So right away.” I grinned and stuck out my tongue.

“Ha. Ha.” Terra could barely hold her attempt at an unimpressed glare before cracking into a broad smile. “Yeah, okay, probably.”

The night was young and the bar had only begun to fill up. A thin layer of chatter hung in the air, though our table was clearly the noisiest, courtesy of Merriweather.

"Come on!" Merriweather teased, seeming not to care that Starshadow was only a half foot away from her. Two glasses levitated free of the army of Buzzards and whiskies that occupied the table. "Mahogany here has shown me the finest of Equestrian tastes!"

Mahogany grinned at Merriweather and raised his glass. He turned to his right and ribbed Night Flurry, who jumped, just about spilling the table's lone tea cup. "Hear that, Flurry? My drink's popular with them classy ponies too!"

"That fact that you recommend it does not help its case." Starshadow frowned.

I plopped down beside Mahogany. Terra didn't even bother before she was muzzle-deep in one of the unclaimed whiskies.

"Hey, Terra! Dusky! You're just in time!" Mahogany clapped a forehoof across my shoulder. "Her Highness Merriweather is buyin' again!"

"Yeah, that's... uh, great." I subtly shuffled a few of the untouched glasses away from Terra.

"The greatest!" Terra burbled into her drink.

Night Flurry fidgeted with his tea cup. While he threw a glance our way every so often, his
gaze was firmly fixed upon Merriweather and Starshadow.

"Geez, lighten up, Sis'. This is a bar~."

"I am aware." Starshadow rolled her eyes. "Just as I am aware such things will not help you regain your honour."

"Hey, gotta build a fanbase before the heroic deeds mean anything." Merriweather waved her hoof.

Terra started laughing in a strange combination of amusement and derision.

Merriweather leaned over. “You’re supposed to wait until I tell a joke.”

"A thief talking about honour! That’s funny!" Terra brought her forehooves up on the table, rattling her empty glasses. For a second, I thought she might even climb over it to leap at Starshadow. A fire burned in her eyes, but it wasn't the hazy kind drunkards displayed before swinging a chair around. No, while the film of alcohol was beginning to form, it was more akin to that steely glare she'd given that poor filly the other day.

Starshadow glared back. "You would dare call me a thief?"

"Yeah! You... you sexy-stealing thief!" Terra slammed her hooves on the table.

I blinked. Everyone else at the table stopped dead.

"Siiiiis', you lied to me." Merriweather giggled. "You should've told me she was your type. I could've hooked you up with a nice mare back in Manehattan~."

"Terra." I sighed. "You can't just go around accusing people of 'stealing your sexiness'. It doesn't even qualify as a proper pick-up line."

"Technically, I just suppressed it." Starshadow glared at Merriweather in that sisterly way that said 'You're an idiot.'

Terra flailed at me, a proud grin painted across her face. "Told ya!"

"Wait, what?" I glanced from Terra to Starshadow and back. "That's a thing?'

"Yes. I made it for a certain somepony who lets her loins run off with her," Starshadow said in a complete deadpan. I stared at her for a few more seconds, but no laugh was forthcoming.

"Oh, is that all that does?" Merriweather tilted her head.

"What do you mean, 'is that all'? I shut down your libido."

Merriweather shrugged. "I just dispel it, anyway. But, geez Sis', I expected something more creative, like making beds turn my hair into tarantulas or making me speak alternating Griffon or even suddenly sprouting a—"

"Oooookay, I think we're getting a bit off topic," I cut in. This was already a headache without Merriweather wasting time on total absurdity. Not to mention that alarms were going off in my mind. They certainly didn't seem as knightly as Starshadow wanted us to believe. "Can somepony please fix this?"

Mahogany laughed as he turned to Terra. "Whatcha even need it for? You just try to make other ponies get busy."

"Oh, that's easy. I got it." Merriweather's horn lit up, as did Terra. The light grew more intense with each moment, rippling with power in a way that I'd only seen from Twilight.

"Whoa, hold on." I took a few steps backward. "Maybe we should do this outside."

"Nah, I got it. Just relax and it'll be over soon~."

The frequency of the distortions increased and Terra grimaced as her body appeared to displace around itself. The others began to back away as well.

"Stop! You're hurting her!" I yelled. But it was too late: the magic collapsed, which meant only one thing. "Every pony get down!"

Instinct took over and I dove under the nearest table, covering my head with my forehooves.

In the calm before the storm, I thought I heard Night Flurry’s voice, followed by a set of blue hooves appearing in front of the table. "Look out, Dusky!"

The ensuing 'pop' was blessedly underwhelming, though the table told a different story as it creaked and groaned under the pressure of the release.

But the worst were the cries of pain—Night Flurry's cries of pain—as he was forced back toward me, crashing into the table before crumpling to the ground. I couldn't help but stare, my body torn between anger and concern.

What was he thinking?!

I inched forward, a third contender, the dread of uncertainty, rising above the rest. Thankfully, its reign was short-lived, giving way to relief when I noticed Night Flurry’s chest was still rising and falling.

Poking my head out, I hoped to Celestia that I wouldn’t find a whole room full of downed ponies. The result was even more surreal.

Terra, Merriweather and Starshadow all still stood at the table, bearing expressions of confusion, contemplation and annoyance, respectively. None of them had any discernable injury. In fact, were it not for the frazzled manes and… what looked like an amalgamation of all the melted glasses clinging to the table, I might have thought the whole situation a hallucination.

Mahogany stood just a little forward from the other patrons, a ruffled coat the worst of his worries. And like the other patrons, his mouth was agape, forehooves rubbing at his eyes. I would have shouted ‘No, it’s not the alcohol!’ at them, but I had other concerns.

There was a thin smear of blood on the floor, leading up to Night Flurry, where he lay sprawled on his side. His topmost wing was spread, a couple of his primaries scraping across the stain.

“Night Flurry?” I whispered. When he didn’t respond, I nosed at his temple.

“Ugh…” he groaned.

“How do you feel? Can you move?”

“I… um…” He struggled to open his eyes, seeming to give up once they were half-open. “Fine, just fine.”

As he finished lying through his teeth, he pushed himself up, clenching them around a whimper. His wing curled, loosely clutching itself to his side.

“You are not fine.” I narrowed my eyes, intent on cutting through whatever twisted sense of pride would let him lie about his injury. “Let me see your wing.”

With a reluctant nod, he held his wing up. Small splatters of blood caked the feathers around several large, still-glowing splinters of wood, in a mess that sent a chill across my own wings. The damage seemed to end there, with the rest of his body free of marring. However, this did little to ease my wariness—I’d once been hit by magic that nearly killed me, with little more than a few singed feathers to show for it.

“We need to get you to a doctor.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but upon following my gaze to his wing, promptly clamped it shut.

Starshadow trotted over, her eyes tracing over Night Flurry. “I apologize for my sister’s rashness. May I?”

With a nod, Night Flurry extended his wing. It took all of ten seconds and a flash of magic before Starshadow turned her attention back to Night Flurry himself.

“I agree with Dusky Down’s assessment. You should see a physician immediately.”

“Wait,” Terra stumbled over, giving Starshadow an expectant look. “Can’t you use your knight powers to heal him or something?”

“Sure—” Merriweather began, her horn lighting up.

“No,” Starshadow said firmly. Her own magic leapt into being and Merriweather’s head flicked back, as though something had hit her in the forehead.

“What, why? It’s an easy spell.” Merriweather frowned.

“Do you not see it? His wounds are already saturated with magic. We do not want to risk repeating what injured him in the first place.”

Night Flurry slumped noiselessly to the floor, pulling my attention away from the Ostfriesens. His breathing had become uneven and his eyes barely more than slits.

“Look, can we argue later?” I let a bit of irateness leak into my voice. “He’s getting worse.”

Mahogany dashed for the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll get my cart!”

---

It’s not often that I can say laziness and alcoholism helped save the day, but this was one of those times. Mahogany’s impatience had led to him flying directly to the Seapony after work and leaving the company cart behind it.

While a cargo cart wasn’t exactly the most ideal way to transport a hurt pony, the trip to the clinic was short enough that we made do.

The rest of the night was a blur, fragmented memories floating around my mind like scattered photographs. I remembered racing down the streets alongside Mahogany, keeping a close eye on Night Flurry as the others fell farther and farther behind. Then I was slamming through the clinic doors, yelling for help.

At some point, they’d stabilized him. I don’t even know what I was doing, but before they took him away for observation, he called to me. Then everything was overshadowed by anger, an urge to rant, held back only by my reasoning that he was delirious.

“Worth it,” was all he’d said. When all he’d done was throw himself in harm’s way. When all he’d accomplished was scaring us.

I didn’t know what to make of Merriweather or Starshadow anymore. I remember wanting to tell them to get away. But I didn’t have the energy; all I could do was give them a tired glare. Perhaps the awkward silence was enough. Starshadow eventually excused herself to go see Barkeep.

We were still wordless as the clinic staff kicked us out. Terra walked on the far opposite side from Merriweather. I couldn’t blame her.

There was a dawning realization, as the cold swept over me: snow was scheduled that night.

Then I was in the weather office, hoping that somepony was on back-up. There wasn’t. Not a soul was around and I’d only even gotten in because I’d pilfered Night Flurry’s keys from his flight satchel. I don’t even remember who grabbed it, just that I’d counted myself lucky to have found the A-shaped bag pitched into the back of Mahogany’s cart.

With the storm already twenty minutes overdue, I was left with a choice: fly out to Rainbow Dash’s house and annoy her with extra admin work or get an early start on the work I knew she’d ask me to do, anyway.

While I’d worked through the night several times before, it’d always been for Winter Wrap Up and at the tail end of a planned team effort. This was my second full shift of the day, with just a short break that involved nearly getting blown up. Certainly not the worst I’d had, but by the last hour, it was really starting to wear on me.

Thankfully, the Everfree had been kind—a pretty surreal thought all on its own. What wild weather I remembered fighting had been token at worst.

I remember stumbling into my apartment, barely able to lock the door and shuffle over to my bed before crashing face first into it.

It was well after noon by the time I’d risen, which would have been an hour into my next shift. I probably would have bolted out of there too, if I hadn’t noticed the leaflet on the floor. My own flight satchel lay across the wooden boards, half-spilling out its contents, where I must have shrugged if off the night before.

Rainbow Dash’s mouth-writing was hastily scrawled all over the leaflet—a scheduling template—where my name was marked for the next five evenings.

After nibbling on some daisies and ensuring that I didn’t look like someone who’d just crawled out from under a train wreck, I decided I needed to work on my night weather efficiency. I certainly couldn’t count on the Everfree being merciful again for five nights in a row.

While I planned on interrogating Night Flurry, I had no idea how coherent he would be. So I decided a quick side trip to the library, to see if I could find any books, was in order.

There was just one flaw in my plan: getting into a conversation about magic with Twilight Sparkle does not ever result in a quick trip. Which isn’t to say I wasn’t grateful—she was one of the few ponies with the right talent to have a strong understanding of other tribes’ magic. It’s just that my mind was still a wee bit tired for a surprise lecture.

Nevertheless, by the end of it all, I was almost confident I knew enough to get by without even opening the book she’d given me. Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask Night Flurry for some less formal tips.

Once that was all settled, I could finally give him a piece of my mind.

The clinic was deathly quiet, a sure sign that Nurse Redheart was on duty. Even my light hoof steps seemed deafening against the polished floor. And here I’d thought the bright green walls were loud.

Murmurs touched my ears as I approached the door to Night Flurry’s room. I could pick out Terra and Mahogany, as well as bits of what sounded like Night Flurry. Rounding the corner, I hoped that they were the only ones there; I simply wasn’t ready to deal with the knights just yet.

The door was wide open, but I gave it a few taps to be polite. The room was a pretty standard clinic layout, with just a curtain, a night stand and a lamp to keep the bed company. Terra and Mahogany looked up from the foot of Night Flurry’s bed, while he tried to peek around them.

I put on a smile. “Hello, everypony.”

“E-evening, Dusky…” Night Flurry stammered, shrinking down behind Mahogany.

“Hey,” Terra and Mahogany both said in stereo.

“We were, uh, just talking about weather,” Terra continued.

“Right.” I was too tired to ask, so I simply nodded. “If it’s about the night shift, I’ve got it covered.”

“Oh. Th-thanks…” Night Flurry said. While he was still mostly hidden behind Mahogany, it wasn’t hard to picture him wilting. I almost didn’t feel bad. Almost.

I trotted over to the side of the bed, where I could see him. “Anything special you do compared to the day shift?”

His face scrunched up. “Um… I guess ponies don’t care about gathering clouds early. Maybe they just don’t see. B-but, it’s good when I have to spend a lot of time with the Everfree.”

“Anything else?”

He scrunched his face again. “I-I don’t think so.”

Great, guess I’d better hope Twilight’s techniques pan out. I nodded. “In any event, I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“Umm... yeah.... I slept p-pretty much all day. Nurse said I was out for about fifteen hours... but... um... I can't sleep at all during the night…” He pawed at his blanket, as though contemplating trying to hide beneath it.

I nodded. "I'd be surprised if you could fall asleep again right after sleeping for fifteen hours."

“I’ve got a little something that can fix that.” Mahogany held out something that glinted in the light. It only took me a moment to realize it was his flask. Even Terra stared.

“Mahogany…” Rolling my eyes, I gave him a look.

“No?” He pointed it at Night Flurry, who just pulled away. “All right, your loss.”

And with that, he uncapped it and took a big swig.

“I.. um... Dusky?” Night Flurry continued to play with his sheets.

“Yes?” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Terra taking the flask from Mahogany.

“I... I... wanted to thank you for everything you did. Nurse Redheart says you brought me in and made sure I was okay... and I just... um... thanks…” By this point, he’d practically tied his forehooves together.

A small smirk involuntarily formed on my lips. "What else was I going to do? Leave you at the bar?"

Night Flurry shrunk down, a bit of colour playing across his cheeks. “I... I guess not…”

“You really need to take better care of yourself so you don't end up in here again.”

“W-what do you mean... I thought I took care of myself just fine.” Night Flurry’s eyes shifted side-to-side.

The annoyance was back in force. With a sigh, I let my eyes narrow. “You jumped in front of an exploding wall of magic.”

“But... I... um... I did it to… I did it to protect you!” Night Flurry leaned forward with such suddenness that he almost fell off the bed. A forehoof each from Mahogany and I saved him from face-planting.

“Real smooth, Flurry,” Mahogany shook his head.

“Look, I know your heart was in the right place, but if you were really paying attention, you’d have noticed I was already under a table. Throwing yourself into the open like that was nothing short of foalish.” I tried to make my frown as obvious as possible so that he might finally get the message.

Frustratingly, Night Flurry smiled, looking past me, rather than at me. “It's.... it's who I am. I don't even know... I just... acted on instinct."

I should have guessed from the beginning, really. If that really was his first instinct, I had little doubt that he’d tried to join the guard, not to become a guard, but because he wanted to be a hero. By Celestia, what is it about me that attracts these kinds of ponies?

Not that that was any reason to write him off in my books. Though we had to go our separate ways, one of my friends, Blaze, had started out much like Night Flurry. But for all her recklessness, she was a mare with a strong sense of justice, the kind I could trust to always have my back. Had I not given her a chance, I would most definitely have been losing out.

And to be fair, perhaps it was my own past that made me see those traits as readily as I did. To say that I’d idolized Daring Do ever since I was a filly bordered on understatement.

I shook my head. “You can't rely entirely on instinct in dangerous situations. If you don’t learn when to let logic intervene, you'll end up putting yourself in unnecessary danger.”

“I... maybe you're right... but…” Night Flurry stared at the tiles beneath my forehooves. “It didn't feel unnecessary to me... I just... I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt... um... s-sorry…”

He still wasn’t getting it, but he’d left me an opening; I just had to choose my next words carefully. “I can see what you’re getting at, but think of it in reverse. You have friends and they don’t want to see you get hurt, either. So next time, put a little thought into your actions.”

Night Flurry’s eyes went wide and his jaw began to move on its own, slowly, wordlessly chewing away at his smile. “I... oh... you're right... it was pretty stupid of me… A-and about the shifts… I… I never wanted you to get stuck with them. S-sorry...”

Now I just had to point him in the right direction. I placed a hoof on his shoulder and gave him the teeniest, tiniest of smiles. “So long as you learn from your mistakes. We all make them, after all. As for the shifts, well, I’m used to getting shuffled around a lot, even if the night shift is out of the ordinary for me. Just promise me this kind of thing won’t happen again.”

“It... it's a boring shift... unless they planned some snow or something…” He was mid-nod when his eyes went wide and he started fidgeting with the sheets so intensely that I thought they were going to tear. “Oh, Luna… that was last night, wasn’t it?”

I nodded. “It was still manageable. More or less.”

Night Flurry slumped, his hooves completely still as his gaze drifted, trying to escape to somewhere, anywhere—and pulling mine along with it. They stopped on Terra.

Her lips were puckered, with eyes flitting expectantly between Night Flurry and I, as she anxiously tapped her forehooves together. She mumbled something just barely audible; were we not in the clinic, I doubt I would have even heard it. “Now, kisssss~.”

Just to the side, Mahogany was staring at her, his expression stuck in a weird place between, ‘Should do something to stop her or just break out laughing?’

I raised an eyebrow.

Night Flurry turned beet red. “Oh... um... you know what, I think, um... I think those injuries did more to me than I thought... I'm suddenly really tired, yep... definitely need to get some more rest..."

“Oh, come on!” Terra threw her hooves into the air.

“Yeah, this is over. I need to get to work soon, anyway. Seeya, Night Flurry. Let’s go, Terra,” I huffed and grabbed her tail between my teeth. Her meddling had crossed well into the realm of tasteless and it was time for a little chat.

“Hey! Don’t—” Terra protested as I dragged her toward the door.

Mahogany followed closely behind. “Get well, Flurry! I’ll bring some more ‘medicine’ tomorrow.”

Once we were all in the hall, I closed the door as quickly as I could without making a racket.

“Unbelievable. Are you trying to make everything as awkward as possible?” I glared at Terra.

“Uh... no?” She smiled back sheepishly.

“Then stop pushing us together like that. We’re just friends, stop trying to lead him on by proxy.”

Mahogany was rolling on the ground, snickering as he gasped for air. “Hahaha… What was that even? ‘Now kiss’? Pffffft!”

I sighed. “What am I going to do with you two?”

“Is this a bad time?” The voice of Pinkie Pie made us all jump.

I whirled to face Pinkie, who was standing just a few feet down the hall. She wore a lopsided blue party hat and was pushing a commandeered crash cart with a tray of cupcakes set on top. I couldn’t help but smile. Some people found Pinkie’s boundless energy overbearing, but it always calmed me. For all her wackiness, what was at her core was a whole lot of caring. And sometimes, just a little dose of that was all that I needed.

“Hi, Pinkie. What are you up to?”

“I’m trying out my new ‘Get Well Sooner’ Cupcakes program!” Pinkie Pie flourished. “I used to just wait outside to invite ponies to an ‘I Got Better’ party, but then I thought why wait when I can bring the cheer to everyone while they’re still sick?”

“Well, that’s quite nice of you.” I glanced down the hall, fairly certain I knew what Pinkie was about to say, but I liked to give her the benefit of the doubt. “I’m surprised Nurse Redheart let you do this, though,”

“Oh, she doesn’t know, but I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Since I was prepared, my smile barely dropped. “Er, right.”

“Anyway, was nice talking to you all, but these cupcakes won’t deliver themselves! Bye, Dusky! Bye, Terrabona! Bye, Mahogany!” She trotted toward Night Flurry’s door.

Terra and Mahogany gave each other dubious looks.

“Wait, Pinkie.” I tried to keep my voice low. Wouldn’t want to get her kicked out before she'd made her rounds. “I don’t think he’s ready for another visitor just yet. Maybe you should see all the other ponies first and check back with him later.”

“Okay dokey lokey! Bye-bye!” Pinkie didn’t even miss a step as she bounced toward the next room, humming a vaguely familiar tune.

I felt my lips creeps upward again as my mind sung along. Come on, everypony, smile, smile, smile...

6 - Shadows

The Ponyville train station was, as expected, practically empty. We were getting a much later start than I’d have liked; by now, the first two trains to Fetlock Falls had already departed. We could have made the first, but that would have involved leaving right after my shift.

As much as I wanted to see the festival, going as a tired, sweaty mess would have been a terrible mistake. After quick trip home, a shower and a power nap, at least the latter half of my problem was solved. The first had become more or less manageable, leaning a bit toward ‘less’.

Even though we had a late start, if I could last the day, we could also stay later. While I’d liked to have also traded away the previous night’s shift, I was already lucky to have freed up one night. Turns out most of the weather team wasn’t too keen on taking the darkest, loneliest shift on the schedule; I got the feeling Cloud Kicker only agreed to this next night because she felt she owed me from that time she ducked out when her kid brother nearly burned down the school house.

In any event, at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel: if the doctor’s estimate was right, I’d only have three more shifts before I could give it back to Night Flurry.

My flight satchels were almost uncomfortably light, with my emergency weather gear stowed at home and hardly a ration added for so short a trip. With my semi-frequent outings to Canterlot, one might think I’d get used to it, but after a lifetime of extended travel, a full pack was always going to be the most reassuring. Still, prudence is only prudence so long as it’s practical, a principle that even my highly-prepared parents embraced.

Despite the platform being out in what was essentially an open field, Night Flurry’s steps almost echoed as he trotted across the wooden planks. His legs were as rigid as stilts and his bandaged wing and flight satchels sagged with his back. But it wasn’t the bags that weighed him down; no, it was the awkwardness, the aftermath of the explosion that burdened him most.

It would take a special level of obliviousness or apathy to dismiss the whole incident. To be honest, while he had much of the former, he let his emotions drive him hard enough that I’d have thought him more likely to flee, backing out of the trip.

Instead, he insisted on paying for the tickets as penance. While I couldn’t help but be a bit wary, I didn’t want to discourage him from making genuine amends. So I grudgingly accepted, the end result of which was him shuffling up to the ticket counter.

“T-two for F-Fetlock, please.” Night Flurry scuffed his hoof.

“Sure thing.” The yellow mare at the booth smiled warmly; I wagered she’d seen more than her fair share of nervous customers. As she set to work scribbling and stamping, my eyes drifted behind her.

Right smack in the middle of the pink and purple wall was one of those hanging cat posters. It was the classic tree variation with a poor black kitten holding on for dear life. Hang in there, baby.

I always found myself distracted from the motivational part by the fact that in order to get their precious photo, someone had to be cruel enough to dangle their poor kitty from a tree.

“There we go, that’ll be ten bits,” the mare said.

A few seconds of fumbling later and we were on our way. As luck would have it, the train pulled up just as we reached the edge of the platform. I led the way, choosing the rearmost coach and settling into the seats at the very back. From there, I could see anyone who entered.

Night Flurry fidgeted with the back of the seat in front of him; luckily, no one was sitting in it. “You know... I've actually never taken a train before… I umm.. I guess that's not too surprising for a pegasus, though…”

I nodded. “Yeah, I only take it when flight conditions are especially poor.”

“In far off places?” Night Flurry stared at a blank spot on the wall.

“Uh, sometimes? I was actually talking about Canterlot.” I replied, scrambling to get us back on the same page. “Sometimes they get carried away with ‘artsy’ to the point that it becomes unsafe.”

“O-oh, haha… well, um, I-I’ve never been to Canterlot, so it’s k-kind of far off for me?” He sunk down.

“Really? It’s a beautiful city. You should really go there sometime.” I couldn’t decide if it was more strange or appropriate that he hadn’t been there. On one hoof, his dad worked for the Guard. On the other, his dad worked for Guard and he was estranged.

“Y-yeah… Maybe one day…” Night Flurry mumbled, playing with the seat even more. It rattled and creaked under the assault.

“Night Flurry.”

He stopped and gave me a nervous stare.

“Try to relax a bit. If you’re this tense the whole way there, you’ll be too exhausted to enjoy the festival.”

He took a deep breath that stuttered almost as much as his speech. “Y-yeah... just you know, um... the train. Yeah, never been on a train... t-that's all.”

Outside, a mare, who was presumably the conductor, shouted, “Passengers for Fetlock! Last call!”

“It’s not much different from riding in a cart.” I put on my best reassuring smile. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“R-right... Okay, I'll just um... think of it as that.”

The train lurched forward. For all my talk, I still found it a bit unsettling, but as such a small part of the trip, it was easy enough to put out of mind.

While he was still fidgeting, Night Flurry already seemed to be doing better. Perhaps it was only because he was concentrating so hard on his forehooves, but it was still something. Another minute passed before he finally looked up.

“Oh! Um... you said you went to Canterlot... So, um... where else have you gone?"

Trips far too numerous to remember all at once stirred in the back of my mind, clambering over each other as they fought for my attention. “Most of Equestria's major cities, plus all the smaller towns in between. There’s more than that, but I can’t name them all off the top of my head.”

Night Flurry stared off at the wall again. “I lived in Cloudsdale nearly my whole life. N-never got to travel much. I came to Ponyville for the job... I-I wish I could travel more.”

“It’s not too late. The trick is to start small and nearby, such as Canterlot, then work your way up from there.”

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Wherever the wall had taken him, it was far away. Perhaps it was time to give him some space.

It was just as well, as fatigue suddenly hit me hard. I stifled a yawn, letting my head gradually come to rest on my forehooves.

Night Flurry looked over, his bandaged wing twitching. “S-sorry.”

“I know. What’s done is done. Look toward doing better in the future.”

He glanced at his forehooves again. “M-maybe I could k-keep an eye out while you nap? M-make sure we don’t miss the stop and all?”

“I wouldn’t mind resting my eyes for a bit.” I nodded, eying him up and down. “Just don’t fall asleep yourself and… wake me if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

“O-okay. Yes, I can d-do that!” He smiled.

“All right, thanks.”

I closed my eyes, but kept an ear open. After a few moments, I found myself listening to the sounds of the tracks as the train rumbled along; it was pleasant, rhythmic, hypnotic, even. It wasn’t even ten minutes before I’d dozed off entirely.

---

I was running, hooves tapping on the solid white floor as I followed the walls into eternity. I wanted to turn back and look, but I couldn’t, nor did I need to. His silhouette was already motionless, a distant mound behind me.

There’s too many… You… you have to run! Live... and show them they... can’t just do what they want.

His name was Silent Vigil. He was one of eight.

My hooves gave way and the floor exploded in a shower of powder. The walls shifted too, spiralling around me in an impenetrable flurry. Just an inch from my muzzle was the only clear detail: a set of hoof prints. Four steps in the middle of an abyss of snow. Fours steps that stopped dead.

“Twi… light, I… where are you? I… I’m sorry. The cold... it’s too much. Forgive me…”

The snow solidified, becoming a muzzle, then an entire face. An eye peered out from under Ivory’s black forelock. She simply stared at me until I had to look away. When my gaze returned, she was gone.

Why didn’t you do anything? Why did you abandon them?

The voice was mine.

---

“... Dusky? Dusky... um... ... okay? Um... w-wake...?” Night Flurry’s voice drifted into my awareness. I wasn’t even sure if I was still dreaming or not.

“D-Dusky? Um... Hey, it's a little early, but we're... um... ugh, I don't know... um, some great scenery out there... ha ha ha...” His voice was louder this time, cutting through the haze. This time, I was certain I was waking up.

My eyes snapped open, for all the good a blurry world did me. I had to blink several times to focus, but when I finally did, I scanned the car. Nothing had changed: the seats were just as empty as when I’d dozed off.

Raising an eyebrow, I turned to Night. “What’s up?”

“Oh, um... ha ha... n-nothing, really... you just... um, it looked like you were having a bad dream and... um, I-I was a little concerned... Sorry…”

Fragments of the nightmares resurfaced, slipping over and through my mind. I frowned. The night shifts were clearly taking their toll; dreams like those only come out in force when I’m sufficiently sleep deprived.

“S-so stupid... I-I knew I sh-should have let you sleep. I'm so s-sorry!” Night Flurry stared at the floor.

I shook my head, half at Night Flurry and half at my unwanted thoughts. “No, no, I’m grateful. Thank you, Night Flurry. I… Nevermind, I’m fine now.”

Putting on my best smile, I pushed myself to a sitting position.

“Oh, um, okay... Y-you need anything? I can go f-find that conductor for another drink if you w-want one.”

“No, thanks. I’m not thirsty.”

“Oh... good, good... Okay, well... I-I think we'll be there fairly soon.”

I nodded, lingering in the silence a bit as I shooed away the last of my drowsiness. That was when the windows demanded my attention.

The tracks approached the edge of the plateau and while the view from the enclosure of a train could never hold up to that of flying overhead, it certainly wasn’t anything to scoff at.

Long, pristine drifts rolled over the landscape, their height gradually receding as they approached the river. An unstoppable child of the distant mountains, the water danced with deadly beauty as it cut straight through to the next cliff. There, the river became rapids, all too eager to meet the frothing edge of the world.

Finally, the waterfall itself came into view, where chaos became order. The current fell in a perfect unison, creating the illusion of a slow, lazy descent, as it disappeared into the mists below.

“I… I… … beautiful…” Night Flurry’s eyes were vacant, long lost in the waves.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

---

While Fetlock’s station was barely bigger than Ponyville’s and about as busy, it did have one thing spicing it up: decorations. Banners, flanked by more than an ample accompaniment of flags, streamers and balloons, bid us welcome.

A large, half-empty pamphlet stand waited by the furthest exit. Pinned to its side was a giant snowflake poster with a bright red arrow pointing out onto the street. Fun and Games, it promised.

And yet, despite the nigh-overwhelming show of festivity, my gaze was drawn to one of the station’s office windows. The blinds were drawn and shut, but I could make out enough about the large stallion’s silhouette that I could tell his muzzle was pointed my way.

A chill ran down my spine, the kind that went well beyond the normal discomfort I felt when someone took notice of me. Really, there could have been any number of reasons for a train station employee to be looking out the office window. I couldn’t say why, but something about that pony just didn’t sit right with me.

“Dusky! Flurry!” Blizzard Breeze’s voice pulled my attention back toward the platform exit. “Glad you could make it!”

As she cantered over, I took a moment to glance back at our mysterious observer. The window was empty.

“Oh, um, hello, Blizzard!” Night Flurry called back.

I frowned, resisting the urge to paw at the snow-dusted boards. It was probably nothing, but for the sake of my own sanity, I decided to keep an eye out. Better safe than sorry, after all. Perhaps I could let Night Flurry lead the way for a while.

“Hi, Blizzard.” I smiled and turned back to face her. “You weren’t waiting for us, were you?”

“Oh, no. Well, yes, but it’s also part of my job to oversee things. I just happened to check the station when the Ponyville trains came in,” Blizzard grinned.

With a short giggle, I nodded. “So I guess no guided tour for us, huh?”

“Sorry. I can walk you to the gate, though.”

“Sounds good.” I stole one more look at the empty office.

“Whoa, what happened to your wing?” Blizzard trotted around to Night Flurry’s bandaged side.

“I, u-um… uh…” Clutching his wing against his body, Night Flurry tried to sink into the floor.

With a sigh, I stepped in. “There was an accident involving alcohol and unicorn magic; he got caught in the blast.”

“That’s terrible.” Blizzard frowned. “It’s not permanent, is it?”

Night Flurry scuffed a hoof and looked away. “N-no, um, just can’t fly… c-can’t w-work...”

A grim expression passed over Blizzard’s face. “I hope that idiot paid.”

I nodded, “Me too.”

As annoyed at Night Flurry as I was, Merriweather and Starshadow were the real source of all the trouble. Just thinking of their treatment of Terra, I didn’t know whether to shudder harder with my head or my hindquarters. Regardless, I couldn’t say I’d have been sad if they’d been arrested.

Blizzard placed a hoof on Night Flurry’s shoulder. “But hey, you’re here, right? Don’t let it ruin your trip.”

Pepping up a little, Night Flurry nodded. “R-right. I-I’ll try.”

Blizzard led the way, glancing back as we left the station. “So, what did you think of the falls?”

“Awe-inspiring. It’s definitely among the biggest I’ve seen.”

Night Flurry stared off into space. “They were... breathtaking.”

The streets were a little busier, with several ponies and even a few griffons milling about. I gave them all a quick once over, but none of them big enough to be our mystery stallion.

While not as decoration-saturated as the station, the street still had its fair share of cheer. Each lamp post boasted a flag and the directional snowflake signs were frequent enough that even a foal couldn’t get lost.

As we turned onto another main road, Blizzard flashed us a grin. “Most beautiful thing you’ve seen all day?”

“Hmmm, probably.” I nodded. “I mean, the plains were pretty nice too, but the falls just give more of a sense of life.”

Night Flurry started, glancing back and forth between Blizzard and I. “Er, y-yeah… something like that.”

We stopped at the mouth of the street, where a couple of smooth ice columns rose up, stretching a massive banner overhead that read, ‘Fetlock Falls Winter Festival’.

“Cool.” Blizzard motioned beyond the arch. “So, the festival’s all around the town square. You can't really miss it. The knitting expo’s in the town hall. Anyway, I gotta get back to work. I’ll try to catch you on my next break.”

And with that she was gone, already disappearing into the clouds.

“Well, no use standing around out here.” I waved my hoof forward. “Let’s go.”

Red and white tents, just as advertised, greeted us. They crowded around the square in such number that, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost have thought them the entire extent of the festival. But the flag-covered town hall was easy enough to pick out and somewhere in that sea of tents was the ice sculpture competition. Fun and games, indeed.

Night Flurry was already eying a couple of the booths, though he didn’t move, likely held down by the crushing pressure of choice. “So, um... where to first?”

“How about that one?” I motioned toward his closest pick.

A trio of milk bottle pyramids were spaced out along a long, wooden shelf. Two of the pyramids were awaiting assailants, while the third stood tall and implacable against the clumsy barrage of a couple giggling foals.

“You’re doing it wrong!” yelled the colt.

“Nuh, uh! You are!” the filly shot back.

With their snowball stockpile spent, they charged off into the crowd, laughing the whole way. I smirked, letting my gaze linger for just a moment.

“Step right up!” The carny, a tan unicorn stallion in a matching red and white toque and scarf set, flourished. “Knock over the bottles and win your very own Wonderbolt!”

He pointed a hoof at a second shelf, just below the bottles. An army of small, fully-uniformed Spitfire and Soarin plushes stared up from their cubby.

“O-oh, those are nice. I, um, g-guess I’ll try it,” Night Flurry said, eagerly dumping his bits onto the counter. He quivered as he tried to line up his first shot; I got the distinct feeling that even those foals had been calmer.

Whether through luck or skill, Night Flurry’s kick hit the snowball with perfect power. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of his aim; the ball whizzed over the majority of the pyramid, taking only the top bottle with it.

“Oh! That’s too bad! Good thing you’ve got two more shots!” the carny called out as he reset the bottle.

Without a word, Night Flurry lined himself up again, sticking his tongue out to the side as he concentrated. I stifled a giggle, amused that something so simple could dispel all that nervousness—if only for the moment.

The next kick was more precise, but lacking in speed. The pyramid merely wobbled a few times as the shot bounced off the centre and flopped to the ground.

The carny grinned. “Almost! You’ve totally got this! If not, you can always buy more balls!”

Night Flurry set up again, with a fervour that told me he might be getting just a little too much into it. He launched with all his might. This one had the power and nearly had the accuracy, but I was almost certain the unorthodox weighting behind the carnival bottles would leave at least one up.

I thought I caught a small twinkle of light as the snowball connected, but I couldn’t be certain. There was no chance for a second look; the pyramid imploded, collapsing into a total mess. Something about the way it fell looked a bit off, but I figured I must have just misjudged the way the bottles would react.

Blinking once, then twice, Night Flurry stopped to steady himself on the counter. “I-I won?”

“Looks like,” I said, flashing him a grin.

“Well, how about that? Did I tell ya or did I tell ya?” Leaning in close, the carny shook Night Flurry’s hoof. One of the Spitfires dislodged herself from the pile and flopped down in front of him. “Care to have another go? Build yourself a Wonderbolt armada?”

“U-um…” Night Flurry looked like he was stuck, wedged awkwardly between his nature and his newfound victory.

Seeing exactly what the carny was pulling, I sighed and stepped up beside Night Flurry. “While that sounds nice, we’ve still a whole festival left to see.

“O-oh, right. Um… y-yeah, maybe we could come back after.” Night Flurry shrunk down, a sheepish smile plastered across his lips.

“Maybe.” I turned to the carny, giving him a sly smile. “Besides, I’m sure all your friends will get our bits one way or another.”

“Hey, just so long as you’re having fun, right?” The carny’s expression didn’t even falter.

We returned to the aisle, letting the current of the crowd guide us for a while. From time to time, Night Flurry’s pace would slow, almost to a halt, as he tried to look at four different things at once. There were more than a couple times I was worried the crowd would just bowl him over.

Night Flurry looked at me, though when I met his gaze, he jerked, fumbling for something to say. “It's, um, a lot... b-bigger than I was expecting…”

I nodded. “I have to admit, at least for a town this small, that it’s surprised me too.”

Shrinking down again, he worked his jaw; this time, words escaped him. I was beginning to wonder just how long he was going to be stuck when his face lit up and he rushed over to one of the larger tents.

“Skee Ball!” he called out, a giant grin spreading across his face as he motioned me over.

A pair of long ramps with circular rings at the end took up the majority of the booth. What little remained was dedicated to the carny, her snowball stockpile and a shelf full of random Daring Do-themed knickknacks.

Without skipping a beat, Night Flurry bought a set of balls and kicked one up the ramp. It landed in the ring second-from-the-centre. He launched another not soon after, hitting the centre. He beamed over his shoulder at me.

“I haven't played this since I was a colt.”

I smiled back. “Looks like you haven’t lost your touch.”

“Yeah!” His grin only grew as rolled the next three snowballs, finishing with just under a perfect score.

“Congrats!” the carny said, passing him a small, crude blue figurine that looked vaguely like the Sapphire Stone.

Night Flurry practically bounced as he deposited the lookalike into his growing stash. “Dusky, you should try! It’s fun!”

“Guess it’s about as good a game as any,” I replied, turning to pay the carny. I couldn't say I had a favourite carnival game, not since long ago, before I found out they were all rigged. However, if I just approached the games by writing off the bits as lost for a bit of goofy entertainment, they were still enjoyable enough.

I let loose on my first snowball, sending it on a fast track to the very centre. Unfortunately, fast was just a little too fast and it overshot, deflecting off an outer ring and settling into the third hole from the centre.

“Good shot! just don't put so much force behind it, it's all about control,” Night Flurry said, bouncing with the excitement of a younger self. His words were obvious advice, of course, but I simply nodded, not wanting to risk chasing him back into his shell.

My next ball was another perfectly-aligned shot, but just a tad lacking in force. It hit the middle ring head on and bounced down into the gutter.

“Aw, you were robbed. That should have gone in.” Night Flurry frowned rather deeply.

I nodded again. I might have objected to how worked up he was getting if the shot hadn’t been a gutter ball; that was just embarrassing. I redoubled my efforts and scored a second-from-the-middle, followed by two middle shots.

“Congrats!” the carny called again and shoved a piece of paper at me.

As I took my prize, I realized it wasn't a piece of paper, but a Daring Do cutie mark sticker. It was the cheap kind, where the adhesive would barely stick a day, the compass rose was the wrong shade of everything and the ink had run in random places. To put it another way: it made Night Flurry's statuette look like a high-class prize.

But my assessment was only reflex, another quality of my father’s that had rubbed off on me, fading as quickly as it came. Beneath my scrutiny was the roiling realization that this thing was designed for some foal to slap on her flank and pretend she was a hero. With a frown, I quickly stuffed the sticker into my flight satchel.

“You’re right, that was fun,” I said, playing up my smile. “So what now?”

“Um, I…” Night Flurry’s stomach gurgled for him. “I’m g-getting a bit hungry.”

While it was barely halfway to supper time, between the train ride and the festival, we’d cleanly missed lunch. I couldn’t really blame him if he hadn’t eaten as late as I. Hopefully, he hadn’t waited too long to tell me.

“Light breakfast?” I asked.

“B-breakfast? I, um, d-didn’t have one.” Night Flurry scuffed the ground.

With a sigh, I shook my head. “That’s not good. Let’s go find a food stand.”

I trotted down the aisle, sniffing and scanning for the telltale signs of carnival food.

“S-sorry, I’m not u-used to daytime routine,” he mumbled, trailing just a little behind.

My nose led us, not to a stand, but a quiet nook. There, a couple hole-in-the-wall diners stood side-by-side, each trying to look more enticing than the other. Personally, I wouldn’t have minded the sandwich shop, but among the typical event goer, I think the pasta diner had a distinct advantage.

As if on cue, Night Flurry’s gaze fell squarely on the pasta diner.

I was about to ask him if he’d like to eat there when I caught a flicker in the shadows behind him. It came from behind a knitting expo sign, the upright kind that was just barely taller than a pony. Hardly had I time to tilt my head, when a cloaked figure slowly, ominously stepped out and raised a hoof toward Night Flurry.

The figure’s stature was too short to be the mystery stallion, but I didn’t care. I lunged forward, throwing the weight of my body into the soft section of its side. “Look ou—oof!”

The mare let out a cry and staggered, even though it felt like I’d just slammed into a brick wall. She fell to her knees, cloak catching the corner of the sign and pulling itself off.

I stared at the large, armoured red mare and her shamelessly wide grin. “What the… Merriweather?!”

7 - Faces

“Hi, there~.” Merriweather looked up at me as she stood, that stupid grin still plastered on her face.

“What in Tartarus is wrong with you!?” I narrowed my eyes as anger overtook my fear, burning it away. “Do you get some sort of sick kick out of messing with people!?”

Even in that state, I knew she meant us no harm; if she had, I doubt we would have seen it coming. And yet, that almost made it worse. That she would be so flippant and unthinking as to consider popping out like some back-alley mugger to be an appropriate prank was quite unsettling.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on! It’s not like that!” Her eyes widened, a twinkle of uncertainty escaping. “I’ve been helping!”

I stared. Such audacity went beyond question; the only appropriate reaction was a deadpan, “Helping.”

“Yeah! Helping! With games and… stuff! Like games.” Merriweather scratched the back of her head. “‘Cause I’m… y’know, sorry about the other night.”

A frown crept down my face as I processed just what Merriweather was admitting. “Let me get this straight: you thought you could make up for crippling Night Flurry by following him around a festival and secretly cheating for him?”

“Yep!” She grinned widely. I almost wanted to kick her.

“And you blew your cover to grab him because?” I tilted my head, dubious that whatever ‘logic’ she was using was actually logic.

“How else was he supposed to know who was helping him?” she answered, hastily continuing when a blink was my only response. “Oh, and hugs. Healing hugs~. Those always help~.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

“W-wait, that means…” Night Flurry looked sadly at his Spitfire plush. “I d-didn’t earn this. I should t-take it back.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not like they don’t cheat too!” With a wave of her hoof, Merriweather slid up beside Night Flurry. “I was just evening the odds~.”

I watched Merriweather carefully. Like Pinkie Pie, her jovial, seemingly oblivious nature was just the surface. The million-bit question was ‘What’s underneath?’ Especially when this particular pony was a trained soldier.

Night Flurry frowned. “Y-you’re not just making excuses, are you, M-Merri?”

Two trains of thought grabbed my brain and pulled it in different directions. Does he really not know? And ‘Merri’? When did they get all buddy, buddy?

“Hey, I’m not lying, just ask Dusky. She knows what’s up.” Merriweather fluttered her eyes. “Right, Dusky~?”

With a sigh, I shook my head. “You’re both right. She may be making excuses, but she isn’t lying. These games are skewed to put more bits into the festival’s pockets.”

“O-oh. Um…” A conflicted look washed over Night Flurry’s face as he shuffled the Spitfire plush to and from his flight satchel with his wing.

“Also, when did you start calling her ‘Merri”? I tilted my head. It was easy enough to guess that she probably visited him and buttered him up, but why guess when the truth is right there? Assumptions are just too easy to get comfortable—and consequently, into trouble—with.

“Oh, um, s-she came to visit…” Night Flurry answered, rubbing one forehoof against the ankle of the other.

I watched him for a few moments. It was certainly a new habit, but I wondered if I wasn't just reading into it a bit too much.

“And you talked about the... incident?”

Night Flurry nodded. “Y-yeah, she, um, a-apologized.”

“Yep, sure did~!” Merriweather grinned. “I’ll even be sorry for the rest of the day. Let me show you around, I totally already scoped the place out!”

She meandered off, headed away from the restaurants.

Seizing the opportunity, I slipped over to Night Flurry and whispered in his ear, “That’s how it really went down? She didn't bully you into forgiving her, did she?”

“N-no, she's... I'm o-okay with Merri,” he hastily answered. I held his gaze for a bit longer and while he shrunk down, he didn't retract his statement.

“Well, okay, if you say so. If she's going to be like this, it's probably best that we keep her where we can see her, anyway.” I turned back toward Merriweather. “Hey! Merriweather! You're going away from the food!”

Merriweather trotted back much more quickly than than she'd departed. “Oh! You're hungry! Right. Okay, there's sandwiches and pasta.”

She pointed to each of the restaurants in the alley. “Oh, and there are totally other places to eat. They’re just, um... somewhere. Yeah! Somewhere. But you guys are totally up for sandwiches and pasta, right~?”

And there was that fluttering of her eyes again.

Resisting the urge to put my hoof to my forehead, I sighed. “You're such a good guide.”

“I am, aren't I~?”

---

The diner was much like the ones I favoured on my travels. That is, the ones that provided the perfect compromise of speed, cost and taste. Not that I can’t enjoy fine dining, but when it comes to food, I’m a simple mare whose taste buds don’t demand much.

I watched Merriweather as she scanned the dining area. Unless she had a thing for checkered red and white tablecloths, whatever was so interesting about a room full of unoccupied square tables and worn cushions escaped me.

“Huh. Nopony here.” She frowned.

“O-oh, is that bad?” Night Flurry glanced around about as fruitlessly as myself.

“Mmmmmaybe not~,” Merriweather replied as her eyes flitted over to an approaching waiter. She trotted up to him, meeting him well beyond the ‘Please wait to be seated.’ sign. “Hey, can we have that table?”

She pointed over to a table that had to be about the farthest point from the kitchen as possible. While it was near the windows, the drawn blinds made it kind of pointless and the angle to the door meant it wasn’t even the best place to see newcomers from. Although, I did have to admit that it would place the majority of the dining area on one side, allowing for easy monitoring.

“Sure thing, ma’am. Plenty of space to go ‘round.” The waiter smiled. “This way, please.”

As we sat down at our table, I raised an eyebrow. “Why this one?”

Merriweather simply grinned. “Oh, you’ll see~.”

“Here you are.” The waiter set a menu in front of each of us. “If you’re interested in the soup of the day, it’s cream of broccoli. While you’re deciding on that, care for a drink?”

“Water, please,” I answered.

“Wi—” Merriweather paused, her mouth still half-open. Her eyes darted over to Night Flurry. “—water. Water too.”

“U-um, tea, p-please.”

Well, there’s one surprise and one not surprise. Maybe she’s more serious about this than I thought.

“All right, two waters, one tea. Back in a jiffy!” With another smile, the waiter turned and made for the kitchen; a kitchen that just so happened to be a straight line away, giving us a good ten-second look at his butt.

Merriweather nudged me and nodded, her grin widening.

Shaking my head, I turned my attention to my menu. Everything, from the fettuccine alfredo to the rose penne, sounded delicious. It also sounded like something that would put me into a food coma for the rest of the day. I ended up settling for a small plate of spaghetti with a side salad.

Merriweather and Night Flurry didn’t hold back, each ordering a jumbo-sized pasta. I was a bit skeptical at first—I mean, neither are proportionally that much bigger than me—but then I remembered that I’d seen even smaller ponies shovel down twice as much in those food-eating contests.

The, thankfully, surprisingly brief wait, was filled with awkwardly commenting on how tasty each others’ dishes sounded; this was followed by me watching Merriweather, still uncertain what to think of her, and she, wearing that stupid grin again as she telekinetically twirled her fork in the air.

I was all too happy when the aroma of dueling pasta sauces reached my nostrils. With a half-bow, the waiter left us with our food, followed by another ten seconds of stallion butt. However, I soon learned the waiter’s rump wasn’t the only thing Merriweather had chosen this table for.

The door clunked shut and a pair of mares entered. The waiter guided them past right us, to one of the farther tables, giving us a triple whammy of butts.

Merriweather looked up, her muzzle caked in sauce as her eyes came to rest squarely on the mares’ flanks. She licked her lips and turned to me, grinning ear-to-ear.

“Didja get a good look at that~?”

With a sigh, I shook my head. “As good a look as I needed.”

“Mmmm~.” Her eyes continued to followed the mares, lingering long after they’d sat down. “Well, if you’re interested, I’m sure I can convince them to let you in on the action too~.”

For just a moment, as I wished so hard to have Terra’s more honest form of ‘subtlety’ back, I found myself sympathizing with Starshadow.

“I’ll pass.”

“Aw, you’re no fun~.”

“Just eat your food.”

Night Flurry was eating with growing gusto, keeping his eyes to the plate as though he hadn’t noticed a single thing. Too bad his ears were pointed right at us.

“Sooo… Merriweather, what else do you do in your spare time?” I gave her a meaningful look.

“Oh, the usual knightly things Sis’ and I do, like training, spellcraft and knitting.”

I blinked. “Knitting.”

“Yep! Soft and warm is good for traveling, among other things~. That’s why you wear that scarf, isn’t it?” Merriweather looked down at my scarf, pausing just long enough to make sure I saw.

I stared back, trying to decide if she was just being silly or if she could tell I had a wingblade tucked inside. Maybe both. After all, lazy as she seemed, combat was her profession; she probably osmosed enough experience that she could see it if she looked hard enough.

“This is sewn, but yes, I do agree that clothing can be quite helpful for travel.”

“Sewing is like knitting, right? Right?” Merriweather fluttered her eyes.

“You just want to go to the knitting expo, don’t you?” I sighed. Not that I had anything against knitting, but I was a bit annoyed that even after the whole butt-staring shenanigans, she was beating around the bush about something so innocuous.

“Maaaaybe~.”

I glanced at Night Flurry, who looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t squeeze it past his squirming lips. I decided to give him a little push. “What do you think? Knitting sound interesting to you?”

“O-oh, yes! Y-yes, everyone likes kn-knitting!” he blurted out.

I raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. I guess it’s decided, then.”

---

We were barely ten seconds away from the restaurant nook when Merriweather broke into a gallop.

“Hey, wait up!” I called after her.

But instead of turning down the road toward the town hall, she went straight for the nearest game booth. Every inch of the back wall was lined with inflated balloons with only nominal room set aside for the baskets of prizes and darts.

“What happened to knitting?” I raised an eyebrow.

“We can do both! We’ve got time!” Merriweather grinned. “Besides, who doesn’t like darts?”

“Those of us without claws or magic to throw them?” Not that I couldn’t throw things with my mouth. Ever since I was a filly, I’d found chucking rocks into the nearest body of water to be a surprisingly good way of relieving boredom. But darts are different. They require a specific kind of precision and motion that’s very awkward to do with the mouth.

“Pfff, c’mon! It’s not that hard! I’ll use my mouth too!”

As Merriweather bought her darts and lined up her first throw, it quickly became apparent just why she had insisted on playing. She threw all five in what was almost succession, not only popping every balloon, but doing so without so much as a twinkle from her horn. I tried to take note of her technique, but between her speed and my surprise, I caught very little.

She turned and bowed. “Next up!”

I shook my head. “After that?”

“Aw, but it’s fun! Please? I’ll pay for you!”

“Okay, okay, fine. Under one condition: no playing over our shoulder.” I gave her a hard stare.

“What? If that’s what you really want…”

I glanced at Night Flurry, who opened his mouth several times before he finally settled for a nod. “Yeah.”

I took up my first dart and as I struggled to position it between my teeth, I found myself wishing I was already finished. The motion was as awkward as I remembered and while every dart at least hit a balloon, I only got three to pop. By the end, I’d gotten into something of a groove, though I wasn’t willing to spend the bits for another go.

“Ooo, not bad!” Merriweather nodded at the mess I’d left behind. “Hey, Night! You’re next!”

“U-um, I don’t know…”

“But it’s free~.” She leaned in close enough that I thought he was going to back away.

I trotted up beside him. “It’s the fastest way to get her to stop pestering you.”

“O-okay.” He grabbed his first dart, but he was so shaky, he lobbed it right into the ground. He stared.

“Don’t worry about that one. It’s harder than it looks,” I said as reassuringly as I could.

The second somehow managed to miss all the balloons, pinning itself to the corkboard between four of them.

“Getting closer!” Merriweather called, directing a raised eyebrow at me.

I shook my head. No need to give him more victories he wasn’t comfortable with.

Night Flurry wound up and threw with all his might. I wasn’t sure where he was aiming, but his dart hit a balloon dead on; it imploded with a satisfying pop. His surprise quickly grew into a wide grin.

“Woo!” Merriweather pumped her forehoof.

I think the excitement got to him after that, as while his last two darts went where he was aiming, they just didn’t have the technique to do more than bounce off the surface of the balloons.

With all the games played out, Merriweather was the only one to receive a prize. It was a Daring Do plush, about the same size as Night Flurry’s Spitfire and one the manufacturers actually bothered to get the colours right on. The shirt and hat were a bit deformed, but asking for more from a festival prize would have been pushing things.

Merriweather held out it out in her magic. “Here. For being such good sports~.”

“I-I, um, never got into D-Daring Do,” Night Flurry said as he stared at the plush.

I blinked. Given the books’ popularity with the foals of my generation, it had barely crossed my mind that he wouldn’t have read them. “Really? You should check the books out sometime. It’s a good series.”

“O-oh, I’ll k-keep that in mind.”

“I guess I’ll take her, then.” On a whim, I tucked Daring into my scarf, such that she was peeking out. Now she was ready for a proper adventure—or at least as much of one as a quest for the knitting hall could be.

“Oooo, that was fun! We should do another! Like... that one!” Merriweather pointed a forehoof at the back flap of the closest tent, which would have been pretty much nondescript if not for the tall plank holding a bell high in the sky.

“Um… w-what is it?” Night Flurry tilted his head.

“Only one way to find out~!” With a grin, Merriweather took off, zipping around the front corner of the booth.

“Wait, Merriweather!” I began, but she was gone. Shaking my head, I sighed. “Just look up.”

Night Flurry stared after her. “She’s, um… I-it’s like w-watching a foal, i-isn’t it?”

I couldn’t help but giggle, especially when he’d done much the same earlier. “Maybe a little. I think there’s a bit of that inside all of us, though. Come on, let’s catch up.”

The Test Your Strength was, thankfully, not the unicorn hammer variation. Instead, it had a vertical target, set up at just the right height to make bucking it as awkward as possible without being particularly obvious. At least for the average pony, anyway; with her extra height, I doubted Merriweather would even notice.

Prizes, marked for different heights, included what looked like a flimsy plastic Daring Do pith helmet, a similarly cheap Mare-Do-Well hat and mask combination and a larger version of my Daring plush.

An intense flapping of wings, about the flight equivalent of a gallop, pulled my eyes skyward. Blizzard came barreling down, sending up a swirling, mini-storm of powder as she landed.

“Whew! Sorry I took so long. Weather went crazy for a bit there and my team was off bumming around,” she said, swatting away the lingering snow with a wing.

“Don’t worry about it. Not like we had a schedule to keep.” I shook my head and smiled, glancing from Blizzard to Merriweather. “Besides, we’ve been pretty… distracted, anyway.”

“Huh.” Blizzard followed my gaze to Merriweather, who had already begun flirting with the carny. “I didn’t know you were meeting up with somepony.”

“It wasn’t planned. It just kind of happened.”

Blizzard nodded. “A pleasant surprise, then.”

“Y-yeah, um, p-pleasant.” Night Flurry looked away.

“Good news, everypony.” Merriweather grinned. “He’s going to let us play three for the price of two!”

“Is he now?” Blizzard glanced at the carny.

The carny shrunk down a bit. “Uh, yes. They look like real fine ladies and gentlecolt with an appreciation for Test Your Strength.”

Blizzard nodded. “Good eye.”

“Before we do that... Blizzard, this is Merriweather, Merriweather, Blizzard Breeze.” I pointed a forehoof from one to the other and back. “Blizzard here is in charge of festival organization. Merriweather is a, uh, traveling knight.”

“Traveling knight?” Blizzard raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not planning on doing ‘knightly’ things over here.”

Merriweather casually waved a hoof. “Nah, not really my style~.”

“And what is your style?” Blizzard stared intently.

“You could say I do requests per pony~.” Merriweather shrugged, though her eyes hardened for just a moment. “What I don’t do is the whole crusade bit.”

“Hmmm, so long as you don’t cause trouble, we’ll get along just fine.” Blizzard nodded, tension escaping her muscles.

Night Flurry and I exchanged glances. I shook my head, mouthing 'later' at him.

Misguided as Merriweather was in her execution, she seemed to making a genuine effort to be a better pony. Bringing up the bar at this point would almost inevitably cause a confrontation, which risked turning all that effort on its head.

Still, Blizzard deserved to know. I figured I could pull her aside once Night Flurry and Merriweather were a bit more preoccupied.

“Gentlecolts first~?” Merriweather grinned.

Night Flurry shrank. “M-me? W-why?”

“Because we made you go last in the other game.” Merriweather nodded as though she’d just dispensed the sagest of knowledge.

“O-oh, um, th-thanks?” Night Flurry shuffled over to the target. “S-so, I, um, kick it?”

“Yep. Give it a good old-fashioned buck,” I said.

“Crush it beneath the power of your hooves! Work those thighs~!” Merriweather giggled.

“R-right… um, here goes!” Turning and closing his eyes, Night Flurry wound up his hind legs in the most exaggerated, less-than-ideal way I’d ever seen. His kick was completely off-target—at least had he been aiming in front of him. His awkward, almost-overextension struck the target right on, and with impressive power to boot. That he proceeded to nearly fall on his face was tempered by the fact that the ringer cleared the first prize line.

Merriweather whistled. “Not bad~.”

“R-really?” Night Flurry smiled shyly.

“You did get a prize,” Blizzard said. “Can’t argue with that.”

His face lit up. “Oh, w-wow.”

“Your turn, Dusky~.” Merriweather nudged at my neck.

“Heh, okay, just don’t expect anything spectacular,” I replied as I traded places with Night Flurry. With as much travel as I did, plus the lifting I used to do around the wagon, one might think I’d be pretty strong. However, I’m not a particularly big mare and unlike my mother, am decidedly not stronger than I look; so much so that she adapted my training to focus heavily on vital points.

I lined up the shot, the awkward, odd-angled motion just different enough from practice that I was almost sure that I was going to faceplant.

“Hiya!” I shouted as I struck, feeling the target buckle satisfyingly under my hooves. Glancing back, I caught the ringer falling just shy of the first prize line.

“U-um, that looked p-pretty g-good,” Night Flurry said, the pain in his eyes telling me he wasn’t sure whether he should be reassuring me or not. He quickly found the snow more interesting to look at.

“Yeah, it was.” I smiled. “I told you not to expect anything spectacular.”

“Pfff, you’re so modest~.” Merriweather grinned. “I bet if Sis’ were here, she’d be going off about how it’s not about how powerful your hips are, it’s about how you use them~.”

“In those exact words?” I stifled a giggle.

“Oh, she’d probably use stuffier language, but it’s all the same, right~?” She wiggled her butt.

Blizzard smiled slyly. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Well, looks like I’m up. Goodie!” Merriweather bounded over.

As we traded places, my eyes fell upon the booth opposite us and its patron. Between his large stature and navy blue train attendant uniform, the stallion gave me pause. His dark brown tail flicked back and forth along his red-brown coat as he casually kicked snowballs at an apple basket. Every so often, he’d glance behind himself, though he never looked our way for long, if at all. I wondered if I was becoming paranoid, jumping at shadows. Still, at least physically, he fit the mystery stallion’s profile.

Despite Merriweather’s extra height, I could already tell from the way she was winding up her hindquarters that her strike wasn’t going to do much better. Her hooves impacted with a crack, but they were off-target with the ringer coming up even lower than my attempt.

Merriweather shrugged as she trotted back to us. “Eh, never been much of a kicker. That’s more Sis’s thing.”

I nodded absently, keeping one eye on the train stallion. “I gathered.”

It was then that I felt something press down against my mane, gripping the top of my head. I reacted instantly, reflexively flaring my wings and spinning to wing-slap my assailant as I turned to face him. My follow-up hoof strike stopped an inch from Night Flurry’s face.

Merriweather whistled, though I hardly even heard her. "Nice moves~."

A stupid, sheepish grin, the kind that would make Merriweather proud, was plastered across Night Flurry’s face. He drifted backward, shrinking under my gaze, and averting his eyes to something above me.

I looked up. It was one of those cheap Daring Do pith helmets, his prize from the Test Your Strength. Warmth flooded my cheeks as I narrowed my eyes. "Did you really just do that after what happened with Merriweather?"

“I.. I, um... wanted to s-surprise you.” He fidgeted with his forehooves.

I shook my head, trying to keep my racing heart from sending me off into a rant. “Well, you surprised me, all right.”

A realization hit me and my eyes snapped back toward the basket toss booth. Perhaps if I could gauge the stallion’s reaction, I could make something of this mini-heart attack. The booth was, of course, empty now. I scanned the crowd, though the result was just as fruitless.

Night Flurry laughed. "W-well... um, mission accomplished?”

I forced a smirk. “Haha, yeah… real funny. Just don’t do it again.”

“O-oh…” He looked down before blurting out, “Um, s-so what next?”

“Have you been to the knitting expo yet?” Blizzard asked.

“That was the original plan,” I replied, still trying to keep an eye on the crowd as I motioned toward the Test Your Strength. “But like I said, we’ve been distracted.”

Blizzard laughed. “Then I’ll show you the short route. Maybe we can get you there before it closes.”

“One can only hope.” I smirked.

We followed Blizzard through the crowd at a brisk pace, the kind that gave Night Flurry and Merriweather less time to fixate on games that might pull them away.

I turned to Merriweather. “So, where is Starshadow, anyway?”

“Sis’? She, ah, wouldn’t have approved.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t even be here myself if I hadn’t snuck away~.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s so bad about it? Does your knight code forbid celebration?”

“No, it’s not that. She likes festivals, but she just gets so focused and…” Merriweather’s mirth wavered for just a split-second. “It’s complicated.”

I nodded, having not prepared for a serious response. My first instinct was to push harder, to find out more, but reason held me back. Whatever the issue was, I was certain it had to do with Merriweather’s honour—or lack thereof, if Starshadow as to be believed; such fine details were not fit for public discussion.

As we continued on in silence, a breeze swept through the square, heralding the night’s approach. In fact, the sun was already clinging to the roofs of the buildings, holding out for one last hour of light. I found myself wondering just when that had happened; somehow, despite all the unexpected shenanigans, I’d been having far too much fun.

I began to lament how comparatively little time we had left in the day, but all that dissolved as the ice sculptures, or at least the edge of the competition area, came into view. The sun hit them just right, illuminating the larger pieces and sending sparkles rippling over every surface. A Daring Do statue caught it particularly well, the light enveloping her in a heroic aura as she leapt toward the road.

Shame we were kept at hoof’s length by a gaudy red and white carnival fence.

“W-wow…” Night Flurry stopped dead.

“Ooo, snazzy~.” Merriweather strolled on by, a casualness that made me wonder just how grand the works of Ostfriesen must be. Of course, the thought had also crossed my mind that she just might not care, but the allure of a foreign country was much stronger.

“The sculptors have been working pretty hard all day, but most of them aren’t quite done. You going to be back tomorrow?” Blizzard asked.

Upon closer inspection, many of the statues had small, unfinished features. The largest, though not particularly obvious, was Daring’s platform: she was leaping from a smooth, nondescript block of ice. While it was something that could reasonably happen during her adventures, it would probably just come off as lazy in a competition.

“Wish I could, but I’ve only got one day off. Gonna have to sleep the afternoon if I want to be able-bodied for my shift.”

Night Flurry shrunk down, hoof digging a rut into the snow.

“Huh, that’s too bad. Wish that idiot hadn’t messed things up for you.” Blizzard narrowed her eyes at nopony in particular.

I glanced at Merriweather, who was busy staring up at a half-carved replica of Rainbow Dash in flight. Or rather, she was pretending to. She was a lot subtler than Night Flurry, but even a single, slightly-angled ear can be a tell.

“Yeah, well, I’ve still been enjoying myself, so no sense dwelling on it.”

“Sure, if you say so. Want pictures?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

Blizzard shrugged. “Nah, we’ll need some for the paper, anyway.”

We came to a crossroad. One turn led up to the closed gate of the ice sculpture area. Another stretched on for a couple dozen more feet, but I could readily make out the stoney, rectangular town hall in all its flag-flying glory.

Stepping to the side, Blizzard pointed down the road. “Well, there it is. Just head straight and you’ll be there in no time.”

“You’re not coming?” I asked.

Blizzard shook her head. “I need to make sure the sculptures are all set for the night. I’ll catch up with you later.”

And with that, she was gone again.

“What are we waiting for? There’s knitting to be had~!” Merriweather called as she charged down the road.

“Um…” Night Flurry looked to me yet again.

I shrugged. “We’re here; might as well.”

---

The inside of the hall was about as crammed with tables as the outside was with booths. I suspected that the only reason there wasn’t more was because they’d run out of town hall.

Scarves, hats and shawls of all shapes and sizes collaborated to form thick, wooly tablecloths over every surface. Fighting against their reign were colourful signs, boasting such deals as ‘Buy two, get one free!’ or claiming their wool to be high quality imports from one far-off country or another.

As Merriweather darted from table to table, it became increasingly clear that there weren’t enough of her to take in all the things she wanted to at once. Of course, if she started duplicating herself, I’d be headed for the hills; as much as I like Pinkie Pie, she’d once found a way to copy herself and Ponyville as a whole spent a month cleaning up all the damage the other ‘Pinkies’ caused.

“Mmmm, so soft~.” Merriweather nuzzled into a wide, red scarf. “I’ll take it!”

“W-wow, um… she really l-likes knitting.” Night Flurry stared, Merriweather having already made three more purchases by the time he finished his sentence.

I nodded, letting a smile creep up my lips. “We all have our interests. Some are just simpler than others.”

“I-I know, b-but I… I guess I can’t th-think of knitting as a very kn-knightly thing.”

Raising an eyebrow, I gave Night Flurry a sideways glance. “People are more than their job. For instance, I like Daring Do, which has nothing to do with weather. And surely you must have something else you like.”

“U-um, well, there’s t-tea…” He tapped his hooves together. “I, um, m-make my own.”

“There you go.”

We followed in Merriweather’s wake and although my enthusiasm paled by comparison, I still found myself admiring each work. While I had no experience with the actual act of knitting, I’d spent enough time sewing to have a general appreciation for just how much effort went into a single garment.

As the shopping spree continued, I found my attention fading. Not for lack of interest, mind, but because I was growing increasingly sluggish. A yawn escaped my lips.

“T-tired?” Night Flurry asked.

“Getting there. I think it might be time to head back.”

“Um, o-okay. S-sorry…”

I shook my head and trotted over to Merriweather, who was now surrounded by a floating ring of knitting. “Hey, Merriweather. We’re thinking about going home. You coming?”

“Huh?” The knitting parted just enough for me to see her eyes. “Oh, no, there’s still so much to see. You two go on ahead~.”

She waggled her eyebrows and winked.

I rolled my eyes. “See you later.”

---

The festival was still bustling as we left its icy gate behind, sounds fading into the background until all we could hear was the snow crunching beneath our hooves. The sun was completely gone now, the moon doing its best to assist the street lamps as it loomed over the empty streets.

While I found it a bit odd that there was no traffic at all, I figured it was just that weird time of night when it was too late for new arrivals, but too early for the night crowd to be departing. And besides, after the day’s excitement, a slower pace was a welcome change.

I smiled. “I'd almost forgotten what peace and quiet is like.”

Night Flurry nodded. “So many ponies a-and then um... Merri. She's f-fun and all, but, um, this is n-nice. Th-thanks again… for c-covering and c-coming with me. I d-don’t think I c-could have done this on my o-own.”

“Hey, it’s what us shift workers and friends do.”

“S-still... I appreciate it.” He worked his mouth as he stared ahead, chewing his thoughts. “Y-you know... I was really nervous about today.”

“Really? Why?”

“I-I didn't know if I'd be able to, um, r-relax with all th-those ponies around. A-and then my wing and I… I j-just really wanted it to be a good day.”

“Well, I’m glad—” I stopped mid-step, my attention drawn to the shadows as something moved in a nearby alleyway.

“What is it?” Night Flurry cocked his head.

A large stallion stumbled out into the street. He wore a tattered cloak, but it barely even reached his cutie mark, nevermind his head. Even under the pale light, I could tell that his coat was red-brown and his mane a dark brown. He lumbered about like a drunkard, but something didn’t feel right. As he reached the middle of the street and turned to face us, it all became clear.

I’d seen his face before, years ago. For just a moment, I was there again. Frantic shouting echoed down the halls. Silent Vigil trying to pull me away, toward the rear exit. Two others were holding their ground, watching our backs. The doors burst open and I saw him, saw his face, as he crashed into one of the guards’ sides.

He was no drunk. He was Cartel.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he slurred around a grin, bobbing here and there on his muscles. “A pretty little mare."

“O-oh, excuse us sir, we're just o-on our way to the train s-station.” Night Flurry took a step forward.

Damnnit, Night Flurry.

“Shut up, boy! I ain't talkin ta you!” snapped the thug, barely glancing Night Flurry’s way.

Night Flurry’s jaw hung for a moment, as though he had been slapped, but he quickly drew himself up, eyes narrowing.”W-well, I'm afraid we're travelling t-together and we have to be on our way.”

The thug laughed. “Say, why don't you ditch this sorry excuse for a stallion and let me show you a good time?”

I eyed the thug up and down, worry creeping down my spine. The way he was posturing, he was either overconfident or had some buddies waiting in the shadows. With the latter more likely, I needed to buy some time to look, to find them. “And if I say no?”

Night Flurry drew himself even taller, edging toward the thug.

Damnnit, Night Flurry, stop letting him draw you in.

Barely audible steps pulled my ears back. I reined them in, letting them angle just enough for me to tell where the sounds were coming from. Two silhouettes played against the wall. Sloppy. And yet, we were the ones surrounded and outnumbered.

Up! Go up! my mind shouted. My eyes flicked up, where the skies were clear and the roofs too low to properly conceal anyone. Normally, it would have been sound advice; assuming the other two were pegasi, it would have at least evened up the odds. Except… my eyes fell on Night Flurry, on his bandaged wing.

And still it urged me to go, to fly away and save myself. But I couldn’t. Even if it was me they wanted, they knew he was with me. Best case scenario, they’d beat him within an inch of his life until he’d told them everything he knows. Worst case, well… I didn’t want to think about that. No one would be left behind tonight. Not because of me.

I fought against all instinct, standing my ground. What I was about to do was crazy, but there was no ‘safe’ in this scenario. I lowered my head, wrapping my lips around the Daring plush’s helmet.

The thug smirked. “Then maybe you just need a little... persuasion.”

Night Flurry widened his stance, pawing at the ground. “I don't think the lady is particularly interested. Why not just head on home?”

He wasn’t even shaking, like he’d been waiting for this moment. He hadn’t learned a damned thing. If we live through this, we are going to have words.

The thug laughed, pulling himself tall as his act melted into a sadistic smile. “You think you can take me, boy?”

“If… if you don’t back down, then yes, you leave me no choice.”

It was almost time. I just had to let them get a little closer.

The thug laughed again. “Lemme think... 'ow about no!”

Night Flurry lowered himself into a rough fighting stance. “Well, I don't intend to back down either.”

Now!

I whipped my head, launching Daring somewhere just behind Night Flurry. It was all guesswork, but better to try than do nothing. I didn’t have time to watch, barely dropping down in time to avoid my own attacker.

However, the “Agh!” that echoed down the street told me all I needed to know.

Two hind legs flew over my head, a fortunate error on my part. I’d predicted a lunge, where getting low would have sent my opponent sprawling. From my awkward position, I could only manage a half-buck, but with his lower parts exposed, that was all I needed. A pained squeak escaped his lips as my hooves found home.

As my attacker crumpled to the ground, I leapt forward, hoping I’d be fast enough to intercept Night Flurry’s. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Night Flurry already scuffling with the large thug. I didn’t like banking on whatever fighting ability he had, but there was no way I was winning this on my own.

I spotted the Daring plush first, which was just a few feet from the second, smaller stallion thug. He also wore a cloak, but it was a much better fit, even concealing his face. He stumbled forward, making something of a beeline for Night Flurry.

The smaller thug never saw me coming and I slammed clean into his side. He gasped as it collapsed, toppling under my full weight. I wasted no time bringing down my hindquarters, relentlessly planting them into his battered side. Flaring my wings, I laid them and my forehooves into his face. He could barely even get his own hooves up to shield himself.

I almost felt bad, but when it comes to a real fight, there’s no place for holding back; I didn’t let up until he lay bloodied and motionless.

With not a moment to lose, I looked up, expecting my first opponent to be getting up by now. I was just in time to see the brass horseshoe blazing toward my face. I ducked as best I could and I felt the Daring Do helmet press against my head. With a sickening crack, the helmet gave way as the strike continued through to my forehead.

I yelped as I half-fell, half-rolled away from my opponent. The shadowy blur pursued, once again sending a brass-covered forehoof my way. A quick backstep put me just out of reach, though the barehoof swipe that followed clipped my jaw.

Paying the taste of copper little mind, I seized the opportunity to swing round and make a semi-blind buck. My hooves glanced off of something unexpectedly soft. Even if I’d missed my mark, the thug’s gurgle told me I’d gotten what I wanted.

Righting myself, I hopped back a few feet, digging into my scarf and drawing my wingblade. I whispered the magic word and my wing tingled as the blade affixed itself.

I shook my head until my vision finally cleared, revealing my scowling, limping opponent.

He charged, which is exactly what I wanted.

I answered his charge, sidestepping just enough to put us out of forehoof range of each other. As we passed, I brought my wing down, carving an ‘X’ into his thigh. He screeched, buckling just a bit as his momentum nearly carried him to the ground.

We stared at each other for several moments. With his leg as crippled as it was, I knew the next charge would be his last.

But to my surprise, he turned tail and ran, hobbling into the closest alley.

Part of me wished I could have finished it, to keep him from reporting back to his boss and the trouble that would doubtlessly bring down the road.

“Hey!” Night Flurry called, galloping past.

“No! Stop!”

He screeched to a halt. To be frank, I was impressed that he could move with such energy when he was bleeding from a dozen various cuts. From where I was standing, it was a miracle he didn’t get completely clobbered by that larger thug.

“Don’t… don’t chase. There could be more.” I glanced around. “The other one, where did he go?”

“He’s right—” Night Flurry’s hoof fell on a deep, empty rut in the snow. “Huh? He’s… he’s gone!”

My eyes flitted back to where I’d downed my first opponent: he was gone too. “Damn, we need to move, before they bring back more of their friends. Did you drop anything? We can’t leave anything behind.”

I galloped over to the crushed Daring Do helmet and the fallen plush, scooping them up and shoving them into my flight satchel.

“No, I… I, D-Dusky, are you okay? You’re bleeding…” he said, as though noticing my wounds for the first time.

“Am I okay? I’m just a little bruised. You look like you just had a drawer full of knives dumped on you.”

He blinked, a slow, rolling look of realization lighting up in his eyes.

“D-Dusky, I…” He leaned in close. Just as I was about to pull away, he stopped and pulled back himself.

I narrowed my eyes. “Night Flurry.”

“I-I… S-sorry, I…” He shrunk down, face going beet red.

“I’m going to call that adrenaline and let it slide. Now, let’s get out of here.”

8 - Aftermath

As soon as we reached the train station, I beckoned Night Flurry into the stallions’ restroom. I would have preferred the cleaner mares’ room, but odds are he’d implode into a red blob of embarrassment and we really didn’t have time for that.

In fact, I’d have skipped this little side trip entirely if not for the problems that would almost certainly arise from boarding the train looking like we’d just been in a bloody brawl; that is, if they even let us board at all.

Thankfully, I always carried a field kit with me, which let me avoid those awkward questions that came with seeking out medical supplies. All I needed was a clean source of water.

And so I found myself in the stallions’ restroom, constantly glancing over my shoulder as I cleaned up Night Flurry’s wounds. It really didn’t help that he cringed at each touch; although, to his credit, at least he didn’t cry out.

Most of the blood was still fresh enough that it hadn’t caked, allowing me to simply wash it out with water and brush the relevant portions of coat over it. Unfortunately, there were a couple spots, particularly around his neck and re-injured wing, that required bandages, lest he leave a nice little crimson stain on the next thing he bumped.

“There,” I said as I secured the last of the bandages. “That’s about as good as I can do. Best I can tell, there’s nothing particularly serious, but you should get a professional’s opinion once we get back.”

“U-um, okay. I… w-what about you?” Night Flurry asked.

I stared into the nearest mirror. A small line of blood dribbled down my lip and I think my forehead was swelling a bit, but the battle had mostly just left my coat ruffled. A quick gargle, face wash and brushing would cover that up easily enough.

“I’ve had worse,” I answered as I set to work.

Night Flurry nodded. “T-the way you fought... I c-can believe it. Wh-where did you learn to d-do that?”

“My mom.”

“W-wow… she m-must be quite the mare.”

I’m not sure what kind of response he expected, if any. Most people, including myself, would talk quite fondly about their mother. Although, even were I a third-party observer, I’d still speak highly of her; I’d yet to see anyone come close to beating her in a fight.

“You could say that.”

He smiled a shameless smile, staring straight at me. I stared back, waiting for him to get his words together, but his lips never moved. Some thought had run off with him and forgotten to bring him back.

Tilting my head, I eyed him up and down. “Night Flurry? You okay?”

His eyes snapped back into place, his posture slumping as he played with a groove in the floor. “I-I, y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure your injuries aren’t getting to you?”

He nodded vigourously. I watched him a few more moments, but decided to chalk it up to an adrenaline crash.

Turning to my field kit, I started cramming the remaining supplies in wherever they’d fit; I could sort it all out later when we were safe. Once that was done, I collected all the refuse into one of the empty packages, tucking it into the bottom of my flight satchel, beneath the kit itself.

“All right. We’d better get going, then. If anyone asks, a stack of crates fell on you.”

Night Flurry watched closely, his eyes following my ball of waste. “U-um, okay. But why—”

“Because it’s pretty conspicuous. We don’t want to leave evidence that we were here. Now come on.”

I had Night Flurry hang back while I went up to get our tickets; the fewer people who saw his bandages, the better. Granted, the lone booth stallion looked so bored, his eyes constantly drifting back to his half-read magazine, that I doubted it would have even mattered. Still, better safe than sorry.

“Two for Canterlot,” I said, setting down my bits.

“Here you go, miss.” He slid the tickets over without giving me a second glance.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and trotted back to Night Flurry. Were the situation less dire, I might have even smiled to myself; it’s not often that lackluster customer service provides an advantage.

“U-um, Canterlot?” Night Flurry asked.

With a nod, I motioned toward the platform. As luck would have it, the next scheduled train was not only supposed to be soon, but had pulled into the station early. It was just as well, as even though the platform was otherwise completely empty, each of the station’s office windows had me periodically glancing over my shoulder.

Once again, I led us to the back seats of the rearmost car. After we’d settled down, Night Flurry gave me a look that was somehow both shy and expectant.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

Keeping one eye on the doors, I scanned the platform again. I wasn’t sure if the lack of other ponies made me more or less uneasy. While being near the rear door would let us get away if this happened to be a trap, I wasn’t sure what we’d do if we had to flee. Night Flurry’s inability to fly made the otherwise avoidable mountain terrain a serious disadvantage. I supposed we’d just have to find a place to hide until daylight when we could walk down the mountain.

I also considered trying to find Blizzard or Merriweather again, but there was no telling where they’d be and navigating an unfamiliar, hostile city would be nearly as dangerous as the mountains.

As the train lurched forward, I let out a long sigh.

After a few minutes of the nothing but the click-clack of the train, Night Flurry spoke up again, “U-um, so… Canterlot?”

I kept an eye on the far door as I lowered my voice. “Yeah. It has to stop in Ponyville first, so we’ll get off there.”

“Then why?”

“In case anyone asks after us… or if the ticket vendor is working for them.” I felt uneasy talking even this subtly in such a public place, but Night Flurry’s naivety was really starting to show. I needed him on the same page, just in case things happened.

“Wh-what? ‘Th-them’?”

There was no avoiding it now; he was tangled up in a conflict I’d long hoped had fallen by the wayside. I could have lied; given him a very vague bare-bones rundown to get us through the night, but his life was on the line. He at least deserved to know just what kind of threat he faced. Although, as I considered his injuries, another, more sinister thought entered my mind.

Best I could tell, his wounds were largely superficial. While it looked bad, the fact remained that he’d somehow beaten a Cartel enforcer in a one-on-one. Sure, he’d had basic Guard training, but not only did he flunk out, he also didn’t strike me as the kind to keep practicing on his own.

But as I looked into his eyes, at the naive, earnest confusion that spilled out in much the same way as his other emotions, the thought was gone just as quickly. Given his lack of acting cutie mark, I doubted he could fake that behaviour with such consistency. Plus there was the matter of the fight itself. If he was really colluding with the Cartel, why fight alongside me when it could have been turned into a four-on-one?

No, if he was really capable of such things, I would have found a way to deal with him from the very first moment he started following me around.

“Yes, ‘them’. The thugs. They work for a criminal organization.”

Night Flurry stared incredulously. “H-how do you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen him before. He was among those they sent after me.”

“Wh-what? Why would c-criminals be after you?”

“I made a naive mistake. I came across the site of a scuffle, tables and chairs knocked every which way. And there, in the middle of the carnage lay a scattered dossier, unattended, unguarded. It was an obvious plant. Someone wanted that information leaked, but they didn’t want to take the fall for it. I was too eager, too blinded by my desire to be a hero. I took it straight to the Guard.”

“Mistake? B-but it was r-real, right? I-If it could help bring down scum like that… h-how could it be a m-mistake?”

I shook my head. “People like that don't appreciate having their activities brought to light. Of course, I didn’t charge straight ahead like an idiot, but my precautions were pretty nominal. I thought I was so clever, allowing myself to be interviewed under the condition of anonymity. Turns out anonymity isn’t particularly helpful when some of the Guard is on their payroll.”

“B-but that’s… that’s not your f-fault.” Night Flurry’s face contorted as he waded through his words. “I… I don't think I could have made any other choice.”

I raised an eyebrow. “At the time, I thought the same thing. That’s why I called it naive.”

“You… you r-regret it?”

My eyes fell to the floor, a sigh escaping with them. “I… I don’t know. They knew where the safe house was; it wasn’t even a matter of if, so much as when. The Guard who remained true to their station fought back valiantly, but… they never stood a chance.”

Night Flurry didn’t reply. He just sat there, working his mouth. I imagined that the thought that the Guard could be so corrupt had never even crossed his mind.

A wounded Silent Vigil materialized within my mind’s eye. He lay on his side, chest rising and falling erratically. And once again, all I could do was stare helplessly as he uttered those words: There’s too many… You… you have to run! Live... and show them they... can’t just do what they want.

My next words were barely whispers, ghostly sounds that I couldn’t even be sure were coming from my mouth. “I did what I had to. To survive, I… I left them behind; fled into the night.”

Night Flurry shook as he stared at the window. When he spoke, he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything, “H-how… how can ponies even d-do things like that? I-I don’t understand. You did what was right. And i-if you did nothing else but survive, you w-won. If you had d-died, then… it would have been for nothing!”

“Shhh!” Eyes narrowing, I raised a hoof to my lips.

I turned my attention back to the door, ears flicking in the silence. I let it linger for another minute before speaking low again. “No. It wasn’t a victory; it was… barely getting by. And then I… I couldn’t let it go. I found some Guard I could trust and they raided the operation, but the criminals knew they were coming. The Guard ‘won’ only by the strictest definition.”

Night Flurry chewed on the air.

“They came for me again, during the raid. I didn’t hold back; none of us did. They lost someone important that day, but all that did was make me a target. And at what cost? How many lives?”

“B-but you did the right thing! I… I-if nopony else will stand by you, then I will. I sw-swear it!” A dark look overtook Night Flurry’s face.

I raised my hoof again, ruining his moment. “Look… Night Flurry, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re better off putting as much distance between us as possible. The sooner you do, the safer you’ll be.”

“I-I don’t care. I c-can’t leave you now; it wouldn’t be…" He drew himself up. "...it wouldn’t be right.”

“Rarely is it ever that simple.” I let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t going to back down. All I could do, then, was to help him temper that zeal—hopefully before it caused another issue. “Besides, we don’t need anymore heroes. Promise me you won’t try to be a hero. Because heroes, they…”

Silent Vigil flashed by again. I looked away.

“O-okay, then I… I p-promise I won’t be a hero. I’ll j-just do what I can to h-help.”

“Are you really sure about this?” I gave him a skeptical look. “This isn’t some game; it will be neither short nor easy.”

Night Flurry got up and placed a hoof on my shoulder. It was a nice gesture, but I couldn’t be sure if it made me feel better or worse. After chewing on even more invisible words, he finally forced his mouth open. “H-hey... Don't worry about me. I l-learned my lesson. I’ll b-be careful.”

“I hope so. There is little room for error in what lies ahead.”

Night Flurry nodded.

“All right.” I lowered my head until it sat atop my forehooves. “Well, in any event, we should rest and conserve our energy, just in case. But don’t fall asleep.”

“Um, o-okay.” Night Flurry slid back into his seat, mirroring my position.

---

Upon our return, Night Flurry had insisted on walking me home, something that I only halfway indulged; strength in numbers provided a comfort that was in rather short supply. On the other hoof, it was probably best if he didn’t know the precise location of my apartment.

We parted in silence somewhere along the main road.

The next day passed without incident. At first I felt relieved, but the more time I had to think, the more I found my mind drifting back to the incident.

Were they actively searching for me? Or was it just dumb luck? A voice at the back of my head nagged at me, telling me that it didn’t matter; if they weren’t looking before, they definitely were now. The real question was whether or not I’d actually given them the slip.

By the following day, my thoughts had grown too numerous for my apartment. Even though my next shift wasn’t too far off, I couldn’t wait; I needed the fresh air now.

I chose the park, as it was well within the town’s limits, affording me a bit more leeway to be distracted. Good thing too, as said distraction didn’t take long to find me.

Just inside the park’s gates, I spotted a vaguely familiar filly—the one from Terra’s shop; she even had the same bucket with her. Streaks of mud cut across her coat in such quantity that she almost looked like a little purple and brown zebra. Her mane and tail didn’t fare much better, though the mud there had simply clumped into thick splotches.

A tall sunflower spilled over the side of the bucket, as though trying to slip away while the filly was busy pawing at the ground.

In any event, somehow I thought the park’s gardeners wouldn’t be particularly impressed with her hoofwork. I trotted over.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” She didn’t even glance over her shoulder.

I stood behind her, tapping my hoof as I waited for her to give me her full attention.

Finally, she sighed and looked up. “Planting. I’m planting.”

I raised an eyebrow. Is this really the same filly who crumbled under Terra’s wrath?

“I can see that. What I’m wondering is why you feel the need to do that on public property.”

“Because they asked me to. It’s my job.” The filly looked at me like she’d just stated the most basic, obvious thing in the world.

Giving her a stern, skeptical look, I asked, “Really? And who’s ‘they’?”

“The gardeners. They said as soon as I show them how nice I can make the place, the job’s mine.”

“Is that so?” I tilted my head as I glanced at her cutie mark, or lack thereof. “Aren’t you a little young to be looking for a job?”

“No. My dad was working when he was my age.” She gave me that same ‘I just spoke a universal truth’ look again.

“And I’m sure he’s a great guy, but don’t you think he’d want you to be in school?”

“Today’s a holiday.”

While I knew foals are prone to being short-sighted, this was starting to get a bit much. “Today is, sure, but what about the next? What if school and your job start to get in each other’s way?”

The filly pursed her lips.

I sighed. “Look, all I’m saying is that you may want to think carefully ab—”

“Hey, D-Dusky!” Night Flurry’s voice pulled my eyes over my shoulder. He was just a few feet behind me.

I nodded. “Hi, Night Flurry.”

“Oh, great, another one,” the filly muttered.

Night Flurry’s smiled as he arrived, seemingly oblivious to the filly’s rudeness. “H-hi. Um… w-who is this?”

I opened my mouth, but that’s when it hit me: I didn’t know either. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Aster.” The filly returned to her digging.

“Nice to meet you, Aster. I’m Dusky,” I said, motioning a forehoof toward myself, then Night Flurry, “and this is Night Flurry.”

“Mmm,” was Aster’s only reply. She tipped the bucket over and gingerly dragged the sunflower into the hole.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you might want to think more carefully about the difficulty of juggling school and a job at your age. Besides, I suspect that offer was for a bit farther into the future than immediately.” I glanced at Aster’s blank flank again.

Night Flurry blinked. “W-what? H-her? A job?”

“She’s apparently in with the park gardeners.”

“B-but she’s just a filly.”

I nodded. “Exactly.’

Aster stepped back to admire her hoofwork before turning to us. “You’re dumb. Just ‘cause I’m a filly, doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”

And with that, she took her bucket and wandered off.

Shaking my head, I was half-tempted to go looking for her dad so that we might discuss her attitude. However, her name wasn’t a lot to go off of and I had more pressing matters to allocate my resources toward. Perhaps next time.

As I glanced at Night Flurry, my eyes drifted over the sunflower, suddenly standing tall and proud in its new home. To be absolutely fair, she did do a pretty good job.

“U-um…” Night Flurry stared.

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever her deal is, it’s not worth it. It’ll sort itself out when she realizes that reality doesn’t match her expectations.”

“I hope s-so.” He continued to watch until Aster disappeared over a hill.

In the meantime, I gave him a onceover. Barring the lingering bandages, it was difficult to tell he’d even been hurt; a thankful indication that there should be little-to-no scarring.

“How are your wounds treating you?”

“O-oh, they’re, um, a b-bit sore. But they’re healing!”

I nodded. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Getting restless?”

“Um, y-yeah, you could say that. I thought I m-might enjoy the sunset.” He scuffed a hoof.

Thinking back to the last week or so, I realized I hadn’t seen many lately either. I gave him a sympathetic look. “You don't get to see many of those, do you?”

Night Flurry shook his head. “No... n-not many sunsets, no.”

I pointed to the hill where Aster had gone. “Wanna head up there? Sunsets are usually best seen from higher up.”

“O-okay. That sounds n-nice.”

I led the way up the hill. It was actually rather short, though not wholly unexpected, considering it was a park hill. A nice, refreshing breeze played over my coat as I reached the top.

We’d barely been there ten seconds when the faint whooshing of wings on the wind drew my eyes skyward. A black blur, streaked in lavender, landed right in front of me. As the dust settled, I realized it was her.

She was a charcoal mare, with a coat much like mine, though her lavender mane was cut shorter and held in place by a red and white headband. She didn’t say a word, merely standing there, sizing me up; not that she really needed to, as she knew I couldn’t beat her.

But I had to try. No matter how many times she defeated me, this was a big part of why I trained. I subtly lowered myself into a fighting stance. She did the same.

Oblivious as ever, Night Flurry called out, “Hello, you u-um... here to watch the sunset t-too?”

I doubted she heard him. I barely did, the majority of my focus straight ahead. The first move was always crucial.

“Um... e-excuse me... what's your name? Do you t-two know each other?”

My mom lunged.

The forehoof swing was sloppy, practically a gimme and a sign she’d wanted me to initiate. I easily stepped out of the way, aiming my counterstrike at her midsection.

Like lightning, she’d already parried, shoving me back with a force that nearly bowled me over. I threw my head up as I stepped back, something that would have easily caught the undisciplined off-guard. She didn’t even bother to advance, my strike whiffing entirely.

Reversing my momentum, I pressed the attack, opening with a wing strike, followed by a one-two forehoof combo.

Again I found myself stonewalled, with mom unleashing a torrent of interchanging wing and forehoof strikes. I barely deflected the first few, but she was just too fast; for every three that I parried, her wing would come crashing into my muzzle or neck.

It wasn’t even a proper fight anymore, she was just picking me apart. I threw my wing up, intercepting hers, my exhausted counter going way off-target. I was lucky I was even able to stabilize in time to stop her forehoof strike.

But this wasn’t a parry, it was a dead block and slowly, but surely, I was faltering, her superior strength bringing her hoof closer to my forehead.

In a last ditch effort, I bent my knees, letting all her force go free. She staggered for just a second. I pushed her hoof aside and took several hops backward, panting as I went.

I felt my ears twitch as they picked up on a third set of hooves galloping across the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Night Flurry charging in. Oh no.

My mom’s attention turned to him. He wasn’t ready. With his form as it was, he’d be done in a single strike.

“Ni…. Night! … W-wait!” I gasped between breaths.

Night Flurry screeched to a halt, his face uncertain whether rage or confusion was more appropriate. “B-but... she…”

“I… it’s okay... It was... a...a—”

“Pop quiz.” My mom gave me a stern look.

“A... pop quiz?” I could practically hear Night Flurry’s brain collapsing upon itself.

My mom turned her gaze his way. “That’s right.”

“Is... is that s-supposed to be some kind of joke?" Anger won out, washing over Night Flurry’s face. After what happened in Fetlock, I don’t think anyone could blame him.

In fact, I felt some annoyance of my own creeping up on me. “Mom, what did I tell you last time?”

Night Flurry held up a hoof, lingering a good ten seconds until his brain finally recovered. “Mom...?”

My mom sighed, her eyes sweeping over each of us in turn. “Yes, I know. But not every fight is going to show up when it’s convenient for you. I waited until the filly was gone, didn't I?”

“I understand that, but this is also the kind of place where somepony else might call the Guard.” I glanced at Night Flurry. “Or get the wrong impression. And yes, Night Flurry, this is my mom, the mare who taught me how to fight.”

He froze again, a new habit clearly in the works. “O-oh… y-yes, um, th-that mom.”

My mom peered at him. “Hmph, and you are?”

“Oh, um... s-sorry. I'm Night F-Flurry... Mrs...?”

“Ward. Windy Ward. But you can call me Windy.” She turned back to me. “And don’t you worry about that. There won’t be any problems with the Guard.”

“Um, n-nice to meet you?” Night Flurry mumbled.

“And the ponies we freaked out?” I raised an eyebrow. “Being able to talk the Guard down doesn’t guarantee they won’t be forming their own impression.”

“They’ll get over it. Unless you’re talking about him.” She pointed at Night Flurry. “Then he needs to get himself sorted.”

“U-um?” Night Flurry shrunk down. “I d-do?”

“See? How’s he supposed to back you up getting all like that? He’s already kind of scrawny for a stallion; he needs something going for him. At least the postal pony has muscles.”

I sighed. “My friends aren’t just here to be bodyguards. Besides, I can take care of myself and I’d rather they not be in harm’s way. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Your father and I are on our way to Canterlot. He caught wind of a few deals and you know how he gets when that happens.” My mom slipped over and snuck a quick nuzzle.

Learning in close, I pressed my muzzle against her neck. “Of course.”

I was about to ask where my dad was, but as I glanced up, I found my question answered. He was hovering down toward us, taking great care to keep the old skywagon, which was trailing along behind him, level.

My dad had a royal blue coat framed by a sky blue mane. His kind eyes, a big part of his charm as a salespony, sat behind a pair of spectacles. Spectacles that, as long as I could remember, he only ever took off to clean.

Despite the wagon’s somewhat rickety appearance, the frame was solid and the roof watertight. It was not for the wagon that my dad was cautious, but the wares inside.

Idly, I wondered if they’d had time to realign that rear right wheel. For any of the other pony tribes, it might seem weird for a merchant to not fix what seems like it should be a fundamental part of the wagon’s workings. However, the amount of time skywagons spend both on the ground and moving was actually rather trivial.

“Bravo!” My dad grinned as he landed. “You’re giving your mother more of a run for her money each time.”

“Don’t spoil her.” My mom gave him a sideways glance before turning back to me. “As I was saying, since we had to fly over Ponyville anyway, we just had to stop in to check up on our favourite daughter.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I smirked back at him before rolling my eyes at my mom. “Only daughter.”

“Same thing, right?” Just the barest of grins played across my mom’s lips.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, Night Flurry, this is my dad, Splendid Speech. Dad, this is Night Flurry, a friend of mine.”

“A pleasure.” My dad shook Night Flurry’s hoof.

“S-same here.” Night Flurry’s replied, his portion of the shake being less ‘shake’ and more ‘being pulled along for the ride’.

As details of Fetlock crept back into my mind, I wondered if I should consult with my parents. However, that would require going someplace safe and secure to chat. “Are you heading straight there or staying overnight?”

“Straight away, unfortunately.” My dad gave me an apologetic look. “The market waits for no one.”

That answer was almost a given, but I had to ask. My mind quickly sought out alternatives. “That's too bad. Maybe on the way back? Or perhaps I could stop by Canterlot?”

My mom nodded. “Probably. We'll see what we can do. But I think it's time that we left. We've had a long journey and there's still a few hours left.”

I stepped between my parents and each of them nuzzled into my forelock, the same way they’d done it ever since I was a filly. For just a few moments, time stopped and the world faded away, that familiar warmth and safety washing over me.

And then it was gone, time resuming as I took a step back.

“It was nice meeting you, Night Flurry,” my mom said.

“Perhaps next time we can chat for a bit,” my dad added.

Night Flurry squirmed. “Th-that would be n-nice.”

They each waved in turn before taking off. I watched them go until they were mere specks against the towering mountain that Canterlot called home.

“Well... your m-mother seems... um, interesting.” Night Flurry scuffed his hoof.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“No, no, she's... a-amazing. I just, um…” He looked me, then promptly blushed and diverted his eyes. “S-Sorry I tried to attack your m-mother.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. "I'm glad you think that. And... well, it's no problem, really. I just didn't think you wanted one of her lessons just yet."

Night Flurry shook his head. “No, um… p-probably not.”

“I must admit, I’m a bit surprised you held back as long as you did.”

“W-well, I did make a p-promise, so, um…”

I nodded. “I’m glad you’ve taken it to heart.”

He rubbed one forehoof against the ankle of the other. “I, um... I'm w-working on it.”

I cast one more glance at the sky, though it was impossible to pick out my parents now, especially against the darkened heavens. That’s when the realization hit me.

“Huh. Looks like we missed the sunset.”

Night Flurry let out a chuckle, the kind that was in that odd medium between nervous and bog-standard uncertainty. “Th-that’s okay… things got p-pretty exciting.”

With a smirk, I turned my eyes back toward Canterlot. “So it did.”

9 - Leads

It was good to be back at the Seapony. With the night shift back in Night Flurry’s hooves, I could look forward to a nice, long evening of socializing. Even if I still wasn’t really sure about Merriweather and Starshadow, it was preferable to another night alone with the Fetlock incident.

While certainly nothing to brush aside, with no new information, I was just dwelling. Besides, there would be plenty of time to think about it tomorrow, both on the way to Canterlot and once I met up with my parents.

The evening had hardly started and Terra was already into her third glass by the time I’d arrived. She sat a seat farther away from Starshadow this time, something Starshadow didn’t seem to mind in the least.

Meanwhile, Mahogany was still more than happy to buddy up to Merriweather because of the endless supply of free Buzzards. And, as usual, Night Flurry sat low against the table, squished under the weight of Mahogany’s forehoof.

“Today any better?” I asked as I sat down.

Terra squinted her eyes, shifting them from patron to patron. “Nah. Shtill ain’t feelin’ it.”

“What, your… ‘sexy’?” I sighed, still unable to believe I was using that terminology.

She nodded emphatically as she leaned forward and intensified her stare.

“Somehow I don’t think it’s going to work if you try to force it,” I said before dropping my voice to a fake mumble. “Just like a certain other thing.”

Sticking out her tongue, Terra continued eying the slim pickings of the room. “Psh, you’ll thank me when it all worksh out.”

I shook my head. “Riiight. So, have you asked Starshadow about it?”

“Yeah! She shaid there’s too much inta—incha—” Terra screwed up her face. “—intherawoven magic to tell. Not that it matters. She shaid the magic won’t go ‘way until next week. It shux.”

I gave Starshadow a sideways glance. “Hmmm, well, if you want a second opinion, we could always see what Twilight Sparkle has to say.”

Terra spit her drink back into her glass. “Twilight Schparkle? Twilight Schparkle?! Nonononono! No way!”

“Why not?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?! Because she’s a celebrity! I can’t… I can’t…” Terra slammed back the regurgitated drink. “I just can’t!”

I had to admit that I was taken aback. In all our years of friendship, I’d never seen her react this way. Granted, we’re both simple mares and I hadn’t been friends with a celebrity up until rather recently, but still.

“She won’t bite, you know.”

“It doeshn’t matter.” Terra levitated another glass up to her lips.

“Uh… okay? Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She and her glass nodded.

The doors swung open and in walked a bleary-eyed Blizzard Breeze.

I stood, ready to intercept Blizzard and pull her aside. After all, I still owed her an explanation of Merriweather’s history. But something was wrong. The look on Blizzard’s face was not the fatigue of a job well done, the tired after-bliss of a challenge overcome. No, her eyes were sunken, bearing the sort of wavering glimmer that spoke of a painful ordeal.

A newspaper was tucked under her wing, clutched up against her like a newborn foal.

“Hi, Blizzard. Are… are you okay?”

She shook her head. “I need to ask you and Night and that Merriweather pony a question.”

My heart fell as I motioned over to the table. I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be avoiding a certain topic like I’d hoped. “Sounds serious. Do we need to talk in private?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, it depends.” Blizzard sighed, taking a seat beside me.

“Oh, um, h-hi, Blizzard,” Night Flurry began with what cheer he could muster, but quickly clued in too. “W-what’s wrong?”

“I need to know: did you three see any weird ponies by the sculptures?”

My stomach churned. “Weird? How so?”

“Anything. Rough, suspicious, drunk.”

“Not that I can think of.” I shook my head. “But we weren’t by the sculptures for long. Night Flurry and I left right after our visit to the knitting expo.”

Blizzard’s gaze turned to Merriweather, with Starshadow following suit and adding a raised eyebrow.

“I was at the Frothy Flagon the rest of the night,” Merriweather answered. “I’m sure a few ponies there would happily vouch for me~.”

“Wait a second. You went out in public and drank without me?!” Starshadow narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah. What’s the big deal? It’s not like you drink anymore.”

“That is not the point! What were you even doing?”

“Helping!” She pointed a hoof at Night Flurry, who shrunk down. “He was winning! And happy!”

Starshadow closed her eyes as she clutched her forehooves to the side of her head, as though something might escape if she didn’t.

“Sis’?” Merriweather tilted her head. “You’re not angry about some little thing like this, are you?”

Starshadow’s eyes snapped open and she glared at Merriweather. “Of course I am angry! You oversaturate two ponies with your magic and then decide it is appropriate to use even more magic near the one who was seriously injured? Have you gone mad?!”

Blizzard started like she’d just been hit by a cart. She gave Merriweather a dark look. “So you’re the one who hurt Night.”

“No! I know what I’m doing!” Merriweather’s head swiveled toward Blizzard. “Not on purpose!”

I winced. The whole bar was looking our way now and it only seemed like things were going to get more intense. I drew in a deep breath.

“Everyone, calm down! Now!”

The conversation stopped dead.

Good.

I motioned around the room. “This is obviously something too heated to discuss in public. Now follow me before we get kicked out.”

Astonishingly, everyone fell into line behind me—even Starshadow and Merriweather. What I thought would be ten minutes of dragging them one-by-one to the back rooms turned out to be a simple thirty-second walk. Part of me thought I should yell more often. Another said, That’s stupid.

Once Terra and Mahogany had made a second trip to retrieve all the drinks, I shut the door.

“All right.” I took a seat. “Now let’s try this again without shouting. Blizzard, what’s wrong? Did something happen to the sculptures?”

Blizzard sighed. “They were smashed. All of them.”

“Whoa! Seriously?!” Mahogany leaned forward, his drink forgotten for once.

Blizzard nodded, spreading the the newspaper out in front of us before glancing at Merriweather. “And there was alcohol dumped all over the remains.”

“Agh, what a waste of perfectly good booze!” Mahogany moaned. When all eyes and scowls turned on him, he hastily added, “And sculptures! Yeah! That’s whatameant!”

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the newspaper.

Statues Vandalized Beyond Repair! Who is to Blame?! it declared. I started skimming the article itself, but at least from the part that was on the front page, it was more concerned with pointing hooves at the leadership than the vandalism itself.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I was having a good time at the pub~,” Merriweather preempted.

“Too much of a good time?” Starshadow peered at her.

“No, I… I could only afford a few ciders,” Merriweather looked away, as though that was somehow the most embarrassing thing she could admit to.

“What?” Starshadow stared.

“It’s not my fault the knitting was so good~!” Merriweather replied, nuzzling at an invisible piece of wool.

Starshadow just shook her head.

“Cider was dumped on the sculptures,” Blizzard said flatly.

“C’mon, Bree, cider ain’t a reason to suspect somepony. I mean it's no Buzzard, but plenty'a decent ponies drink it. Now if we were talkin’bout Screwdrivers...” Mahogany nodded sagely.

“It ain’t pure whishkey, either.” Terra half-smirked. “But sheriously, doeshn’t that kinda thing have guards and schtuff?”

“They did.” Blizzard looked down. “One of the tents caught fire. They jumped in to stop it from spreading.”

“That is troubling,” Starshadow said, crossing her forehooves. “While Sister is prone to inebriation and excess in her pranks, especially when inebriated—”

“Oh, gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Merriweather frowned.

Starshadow continued without missing a beat. “—I do not believe there is reason to accuse her. I suspect that this was premeditated malice.”

I nodded. “The fire is just too convenient. Was anything else damaged or stolen?”

“All the ice in the warehouse was smashed too.”

“Yeesh! And here I thought I hated ice.” Mahogany took a long sip from his Buzzard.

“That’sh a lotta work for shomething sho…. uh…” Terrabona’s eyes glazed over.

“Petty?” I suggested.

“Yesh! Dat!”

“U-um, what about the ponies d-doing the sculptures?” Night Flurry added.

“Fixing the competition? If that were the case, why smash everything?” Starshadow asked.

The Cartel drifted back to the forefront. They had to be involved somehow. A sleepy town like Fetlock just doesn’t normally attract those kinds of people. There was the obvious question, though it was almost too obvious and whether I was right or wrong, bringing it up would reveal my knowledge to everyone here.

“Blizzard.” I looked her straight in the eye. “I need to ask you a difficult question. I may have a lead, but first I need you to answer honestly.”

She let out a sigh. “Whatever it takes.”

I’d had years to prepare, imagining many scenarios from a slip of the tongue, to taking them aside and telling the individually, to giving the quick-and-dirty as we fled the Cartel's enforcers. I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. Years of doubt surfaced. What would they think? Just being friends was putting them in danger. After that, I couldn’t reasonably expect them to trust me. My body shook, racked by the thought of losing them in one way or another.

I took a deep breath and then a second. “Have you ever made any deals with the Leaf Sister Cartel?”

“What?” Blizzard’s eyes went wide and she just stared as though I’d just said something as ludicrous as ‘Princess Celestia is secretly in love with an arch-villain.’ Unless she was really good at faking it, her shock was genuine. Still, I wanted an answer to make certain.

“Pfft, good one!” Mahogany raised his glass, but stopped as he met my eyes. “Wait, ‘snot a joke?”

I kept the entirety of my focus on Blizzard. “The Leaf Sister Cartel was in Fetlock that weekend. Did you or did you not make and break any deals that they would be inclined to collect on?”

“N-no! Never! I wouldn’t ever go near something like that!” Her expression didn’t change. If someone had made a deal, it probably wasn’t her.

“That is a very specific organization. Is there a reason you asked about them?” Starshadow eyed me up and down.

“It’s because… well, let me start by saying that Night Flurry didn’t accidentally knock a stack of crates onto himself.”

“O… kay?” Blizzard cocked her head.

“We were attacked.”

Terra’s drink sprayed all over the table. “What?!”

Starshadow didn’t even say a word, but her ears were pointed right at me, while Merriweather bore a surprisingly serious look of concern.

Blizzard’s face alternated between horror and anger. “Where? When?”

“On the way back to the station. They came from the alleyways.”

“I… I… why?” She slumped.

Starshadow’s eyes flitted over to Night Flurry before falling on me. “You do not seem worse for wear. Have you contacted the Guard?”

“I’ve been in a scrap or two. And… no, I can’t trust them.”

“I see. How do you know that these criminals are, in fact, Leaf Sister Cartel?”

“The thugs’ leader. I’ve fought him before. Well, insofar as fleeing is fighting him.”

Terra and Mahogany stared. I was an alien, far more than the simple Ponyvillian they thought I was.

“What?! When wash thish?”

“Years ago. I was baited into taking planted evidence to the Guard. Someone wanted that information out, but without taking responsibility, perhaps because they knew the Cartel have spies within the Guard. Regardless, I learned the hard way that that’s why I can’t trust them.”

“Yasure you aren’t talking about a book you read?” Mahogany asked.

I nodded. “I wish.”

“If the Guard can’t help, then when do we start knocking heads~?” Merriweather grinned.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to draw more attention to myself, let alone any of you. This is not an organization a small group can beat by taking out a few thugs.”

What I didn’t add is that after that last magic display, I wasn’t sure if Merriweather and Starshadow would cause more or less damage than the Cartel.

“Then what do we do? Challenge their leader to a duel? I bet Sis’ would have it no problem~.”

Peering at Merriweather, I sighed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t go for that. This isn’t Ostfriesen. As for what to do about the attack? Nothing. The details are too specific. It’ll lead them right to us. As far as the sculptures go, perhaps if we draw a connection, then the Guard could be given an extremely anonymous tip.”

“If they are connected.” Starshadow frowned. “All we have so far is idle speculation.”

“What about the rest of your staff?” I glanced at Blizzard. “Did the festival receive any large, mysterious increases in funding?”

She shook her head. “No, the books all checked out. Besides, they might be rough around the edges, but I can’t see them stooping to… that.”

“Dusky, are you certain they were not looking for you and that the sculptures are not coincidence? If none of the staff are suspect, then what do they have to gain?” Starshadow turned her forehooves up.

I shook my head. “No, I have no way of being certain, but I believe it to be an attack of opportunity. There were too few of them for it to have been planned.”

“T-too few…?” Night Flurry shrank.

“The Cartel doesn’t fight with more than basic finesse. They send overwhelmingly large groups to take care of their targets. If they knew Night Flurry was with me, three is maybe half of what they’d normally bring. It would make sense for them to be short-hoofed if they’re going after something that large within such a limited time frame.”

“But that still doesn’t tell us why.” Blizzard eyed Merriweather again.

I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help, but whatever the missing piece is, we’re not going to find it here.”

---

With nothing concluded, we’d left the room as uneasily as we’d entered. I took a moment to make sure Terra and Mahogany were okay. They were still giving me funny looks, but that was about the best I could hope. All that was left was to give them time; time to decide whether they could risk the dangers of being my friend.

I’d planned to talk to Blizzard next, but she’d excused herself pretty much as soon as we’d reached the common area. The whole round table discussion was something I’d hoped would take some of the stress off of her, but as she’d scurried out, I had to wonder if it hadn’t just made things worse.

It was then I decided that come Canterlot, I’d have to make a detour to see an old friend and to ask him questions I’d hoped I’d never have to again.

And so I found myself padding through the darker streets of Canterlot’s bar district, with only a long cloak insulating my features from prying eyes. To call it seedy would be an inaccurate comparison; even the worst sections of Canterlot were pristine compared to the rest of the country. Still, there was a certain feeling of hushed and hasty business that hung in the air like humidity on a hot summer day.

The Record Club was a small, unassuming pub whose only quirk appeared to be its gaudy obsession with collectable vinyl. But like many on the block, it was a gathering place for those who dealt in information. The Record Club just so happened to be a favourite of my friend’s.

As I pushed through the door, as expected, I was flanked on either side by a half-dozen framed records. Old booths circled the room, taking up any remaining wall space as they enclosed what few free-standing tables there were. The familiarity was comforting, knowing I had somewhere to ground myself, for it belied the high-speed world I was about to tap into.

I trotted to the back corner, stopping at a particular pair of booths. There were no markings or signs to indicate which, but my hooves always knew where to take me. I reached under my cloak, to my flight satchel, and retrieved a small bag of bits. I slid it under the table of the booth on my right before taking a seat in the left.

Now it was just a matter of waiting patiently for Lockbox. It wasn’t his real name, of course, but it had almost been assimilated into the role. The last I recall his real name even receiving mention was years ago, back when he was in the Guard.

It was with his help that I was finally able to get my information to stick. And it was because of his centralness to that effort that he also became a target. I’d always wondered if he resented having to go into hiding. Never could get even the vaguest answer out of him, though.

A half-cider later, I caught a glimpse of Lockbox as he slid into the booth seat behind me. He had a coat a similar colour to Mahogany’s, though it was a touch redder. He wasn’t particularly large, especially for an earth pony, but he was also much like my mother in that they’re both much more vicious than their size would suggest. A long, uneven hazel forelock shadowed his eyes; even if I were looking straight at him, it would have been difficult to tell what he was thinking.

“I heard a certain Moonlit Dream caused a bit of a stir in Fetlock Falls. I thought you were done with this fool’s errand.” His voice was completely even, which just felt weird when he was being particularly blunt.

“I am. I was. But they found me. I need to know if they’re after me.”

“You ask more than that.”

Poking a hoof at my drink, I sighed. “I know, it’s… I owe some friends.”

“Must be a hefty debt. Business, then?”

“Bits are under the table.”

The bag’s contents clattered against themselves as I heard them fall across Lockbox’s table.

“Very well. I hear Fetlock brought in extra ice to accommodate the larger competition this year. Too much, in fact. Or perhaps not enough, given that some of it contained certain… impurities. A shame it all went missing so that nothing could be done about the vandalized sculptures. Hoofington should safeguard theirs more closely, lest they find themselves in the same situation.”

The barest of joys drifted up my chest. I never quite expected an opportunity to come this readily. “When?”

“This weekend.”

I frowned; that hardly left any time to prepare. “Thanks.”

“Don’t get yourself killed.” He slipped away as quietly as he came.

I sipped at my cider, the gears in my head already turning.

---

My next and last stop was another friend, this time at the Canterlot University. If I wanted to make Hoofington, I’d have to move quickly. I’d already sent word to Rainbow Dash, to enact my emergency vacation, as well as my parents, who I told I’d catch up to later.

If I could figure out which ice had impurities, then I could bring some back as evidence. As it was, I had no way of telling which did and did not fit that category. And so I trotted the halls, seeking one Ruby Result, Magic Analysis Specialist.

Her lab was as smelly as ever, the cocktail of different chemicals forcing me to pause at the door. Not that they were dangerous or anything; a trip down a large enough scented candle aisle had the same effect.

While I waited, I peered out over the room. As usual, the room was pristine in every place except the one she was currently working. Sprawled across the farthest table was a half-dozen dog-eared books and a small assortment of glowing materials.

“Ruby?” I called out.

“Dusky?” Ruby’s head poked up over her table. A wide grin spread across her fiery red coat and her soft pink forelock bounced around her horn as she hopped to her full height. She was in full lab gear, the white cloak and thick goggles appearing especially dull against her natural colours. “Dusky! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? We could have done dinner!”

I smiled back as I approached. Sometimes that exuberance made it difficult to remember that she was nearly twice my age. “Sorry, this was actually kind of spur-of-the-moment. I... could I ask you a favour?”

“Of course!” Ruby stepped away from the table and trotted over to meet me.

I glanced back to ensure no one had come in behind me before lowering my voice. “I need a way for a non-unicorn to detect the presence of either part of the Ghost Flower.”

Ruby’s brow furrowed. “You’re not going after them again, are you?”

“Well, yes and no.” I scuffed my hoof. “I have some friends who might be caught up in one of their schemes. I need to get this all figured out before it comes back to blindside one of us.”

“Okay.” With a nod, Ruby headed for one of the book shelves, several tomes unseating themselves before she’d even arrived. “How do you think it’s being concealed?”

“In ice. Probably mixed.”

“Very well. Give me a few minutes.”

With a nod, I settled down beside one of the empty tables. “Thanks, Ruby.”

“Just make sure you come back and fill me in afterward,” she said, burying her muzzle in a book before snorting and setting the tome aside.

The next book bent itself to her will, its pages fluttering open. I was always a little awed—even though unicorn magic is relatively commonplace—to see how quickly and accurately magic could perform these precise tasks. My mind turned to idle thoughts. If I had had spells, would it have made a difference? Could I have finished this sooner?

I’d certainly seen enough destructive magic, even in recent memory, to know that fighting would have been significantly easier. But perhaps that would have just drawn more ire my way. Powerful entities always seemed to find a way of clashing, especially around Ponyville.

“Is a solution okay?” Ruby asked, breaking my day dream. “I can have it prepared in a few hours. Anything else will require days.”

I nodded. “I’ll make it work.”

10 - Among Thieves

The sun had just begun its descent, framing Hoofington in a warm glow as the city came into view. Its pale purple structures formed a rough rectangle, with the nearby river giving it a gentle curve; the water itself was dotted with dozens of boats, all turning in for the day.

A large cluster of bright blue-and-white striped tents sat in the very centre of the city. They caught the remaining light just right, such that the reflections twinkled, like some sort of collective beacon; a beacon that belied just what was going on within the shadows beneath the flaps.

I locked my wings, starting a slow glide toward the city proper. These would be my last moments of peace for the rest of the weekend. I wanted so badly to drink in that beauty, no matter how fake it was. But my mind was all business. My eyes wandered the city, mapping out the general layout of the festival and the surrounding streets. While I did recognize a few of the streets, the years since my last visit left it a strange and unfamiliar place. As I got closer and closer, my focus only intensified.

Near the middle of the rectangle formation, just a little closer to the water, was another rectangle. This one was a smooth stone wall surrounding a large, gated park. Wide paths cut through the walls in the middle of each side—a necessity for such a massive public area.

Even though I was still quite far away, I could make out the raised mounds of snow; they weren’t especially tall, but just enough to act as both a stage and division. They were arrayed in a bit of a lopsided grid, patiently awaiting both ice and sculptors.

Not that I planned on being inside the park at any point, but it would serve as a very convenient landmark should things get hectic.

Plus, the warehouses I was looking for couldn’t be too far away. There was supposed to be a trio of them, the middle of which would be where the ice was stored. It didn’t take me too long to spot them; they were all in a neat little line, running along the waterfront.

Of course, I’d have to leave them be for the moment. The festival wasn’t due to start until the morning and with the Cartel involved, just knowing the layout wasn’t enough to act on. In order for this to be a true success, not only would I have to keep myself safe, but I’d also have to remain undetected. It was for that reason that I planned to dedicate the next day to scoping out the finer details, including any suspicious individuals.

The intensity of the task would require me to be well-rested and so I would need to find an inn. I didn’t bother considering anywhere near the festival itself, instead opting to check the outskirts of the city. Anything closeby would have been either long picked over or far out of my price range.

So I took to the streets in search of a homebase for one “Indigo Strands”, as indicated by my ‘alternate’ ID. Even if the air usually offered a wider view, it was also easier for untoward characters to spot me.

As I wandered from block to block, my eyes traversed each building, flitting over the occasional festival sign. A breeze swept through the town and the flickering of shadows drew my gaze skyward. My heart made a false start, stopping only two steps in.

A pang of annoyance washed over me, settling as a warmth in my cheeks. I was getting jumpy again. The culprit was nothing more than a decorative flag and a couple balloons tied to a nearby lamppost. This setup was strategically duplicated every third post.

Once my nerves had settled, I began to realize just how different Hoofington felt. Fetlock had been the young, excited child, eager to please, if only someone would come see. Hoofington was the older, patient child who knew the ropes; there was clear effort put into the decor, but it wasn’t aggressive, instead waiting for the inevitable crowd.

The first three hotels were busts, with the ragged receptionists generally giving me noncommittal shrugs and apologies. To be perfectly fair, the idea of being able to walk in during an event like this was bordering on unreasonable. I imagined they must have already turned away dozens of far less-polite people.

With the night wearing on, I was starting to get desperate, wondering if I’d have to find a nice outcropping to camp out under. That’s when the fourth hotel came into view.

It was one of those rugged travel hotels, the two-story kind that was all one building with rows and rows of identical green doors. An ample, snow-dusted space, nearly as large as the building itself, sat between the doors and the road. Several dozen carts were lined up outside many of the doors, quietly sleeping as they awaited their owners’ return.

While the hotel was far from fancy, that same fact gave me hope—hope that the other festival goers had overlooked this little cart stop.

As I pushed my way through the heavy wooden door, I was treated to a small, white reception hall. The walls were completely bare with only an age-scarred desk and a pair of those potted plastic plants to keep them company.

Behind the desk sat an elderly earth pony mare. Her drooping eyes slid between a set of spectacles to an open magazine—Photo’s Fashions, if my eyes didn’t deceive me. She looked up as the door swung shut.

“You’re in luck,” she said, cutting straight to the chase. “I had someone cancel earlier today.”

I nodded, resisting all temptation to smile. “How much?”

“Fifteen bits.” She tilted her glasses, the fatigue giving way to what can only be described as business.

Frowning inwardly, I nodded again. “I’ll take it.”

The price was clearly inflated, but in this climate, bartering was right out of the question. I could even hear my father in the back of my mind, urging me not to press my luck.

Once the paperwork was taken care of, I trudged up the beaten path to my room. I found it buried about halfway down that unending line of doors—an expected trial of any stay at a cart stop.

The inside was cramped, but surprisingly clean. My biggest gripe was that it only had a single candle. With proper lighting, even the fifty-year-old furniture might have looked more than a little inviting.

Still, the bed seemed clean enough under the covers. Not that I was going to sleep just yet; my quest for a room hadn’t taken that long.

My first temptation was to go out to gather information, perhaps find a bar. But I quickly discarded the idea as too risky. The streets were too sparsely populated at the moment, not to mention that even amongst a crowd, establishments like that were more likely to draw 'off-duty' Cartel.

Whatever general rumours I could possibly scrape together simply weren’t worth the possibility of alerting them to my presence. The next day would be far more valuable, both for gathering information and if things went well, exploring the warehouse. I was making the right decision.

And yet the uncertainty still crept in, my mind chastising me for all the unknowns in my plan. Reality and imagination clashed. The warehouse became a fortress, complete with thick stone wall and a regiment of security guards. Then the crowd—every one of them—was Cartel; all eyes turning toward me, boring straight into my soul. I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Frowning, I swatted away the thoughts, but they were persistent, returning shortly thereafter.

My mother’s stern face flashed across the front of my mind. I sighed, knowing what I had to do.

After checking to ensure the door was bolted, I found the widest space in the room and closed my eyes.

Calm. I moved my lips, though the voice in my head was my mother’s.

The darkness is your friend.

Focusing on nothing but that empty void, I took a deep breath. And then another.

You’re in control. That’s all that matters.

I pushed all thoughts aside, leaving only feeling. With nothing to cling to, it drifted away, slowly, but surely, becoming irrelevant. A shiver ran down my spine as the fear—and its absurdity—escaped my body.

With the irrationality distilled away, I opened my eyes. There was, of course, truth to some of the thoughts. I needed to be focused and on point tomorrow. Even with more mundane ideas filling in the blanks, the fact remained that I was still working partially on the fly. There would be no room for mistakes in my execution.

My wing absently caressed my flight satchel, where Ruby’s solution lay tucked away. Her instructions drifted through my mind. Just pour it on anything suspicious. If you’re correct, the ice will melt and turn green.

I’d make it work. I had to make it work; for both my friends’ and my own sake.

---

Some of the night’s chill lingered, leaving the morning air crisp and borderline uncomfortable. As the wind flung bits of fresh powder against me, I was grateful for my cloak. Of course, it wasn’t just for protection from the weather—I wanted to hide as much of myself as possible without arousing suspicion. This necessitated leaving the hood down, as unless the weather got much worse, it would merely draw more attention. I would just have to rely on the crowd itself to conceal my face.

Even with the festivities well underway, there was a certain unease, a coldness that went far beyond something as simple as the temperature. There were guards everywhere, their stony gazes covering just about every inch of the grounds. If the Cartel was going to pull a Fetlock here, they were going to need a solid plan. I didn’t know if this made me more or less confident in my ability to sneak in first.

The crowd was still milling around, laughing, talking, content to pretend that everything was just fine. Ironically, it was this attempt to act natural that made everything feel stiffer and on-edge. The guards simply didn’t fit into their safe little world and the wide berth they gave each guard was rather telling.

Looking back, if I had wanted to get philosophical, I could have found such behaviour quite worrisome. However, with more than a few other things on my mind, I was just grateful that I could hide more easily within the compacted, wilfully ignorant crowd.

I let the crowd carry me down the main path. It cut through a series of game tents, then forked almost immediately. Straight ahead was the park entrance, while the right turn led to more games. The crowd started out splitting quite evenly, although the ones headed for the park didn't get far.

A couple guards—ones who couldn’t be pointedly ignored—barred the park's gate. Most of the crowd was turned away, grumbling as they doubled back. However, there were a few exceptions, and going by their heavier clothing, from boots to toques, they were most likely contestants.

I supposed it made sense to keep the area closed to the general public until the contestants had had a chance to make some headway. If nothing else, I imagined the average person would get awfully bored looking at a pile of ice blocks for more than a few minutes.

Turning my attention to the booths, I allowed the crowd to divert me down the other path. Similarly to Fetlock, this section housed the standard carnival games with the usual array of cheap pop culture prizes.

I stopped at the balloon-popping booth, which wasn’t too far from the fork and had a pretty good angle to the park entrance. It was a decent enough area to monitor things from, but those same strengths meant that loitering for extended periods of time was either going to be suspicious or expensive.

Loud, hearty chuckles pulled my attention to the game and its players. Two stallions were taking turns ineffectively tossing darts at the wall. They laughed, poking fun at each other as dart after dart deflected off of the impenetrable rubber. When the darts ran out with little more than a couple balloons popped, they left, ribbing each other all the while.

A wave of melancholy washed over me. I knew going in that this whole affair would be a lonely little quest, but now… the whole festival just felt empty. With a shake of my head, I kept walking. This was no time for distractions.

After circling the entire games section a couple times, I decided it was time to move on. The players were all too engrossed in their games and the carnies too busy keeping them there. If any of them were working for the Cartel, they probably weren’t on the clock yet.

The path to the next section took me along the lengthier side of the park wall. Booths gave way to small, permanent buildings. Several branches broke off from the road, each running to larger structures in the back.

Unlike the booths, these buildings were purple, although a liberal application of blue banners and flags helped them fit in. Each fork boasted a tall, colourful sign that summarized which exhibits were on its path.

I tilted my head. Even if I had time to go see things, I wasn’t sure if such strange or basic topics as The Ultimate Apple Corer, The Making of Snow or The Legend of the Windigos would interest me. I couldn’t help but smirk at the one advertising the Fleece Expo, though.

In any event, I was glad this section was mostly indoors. Very few windows faced the park’s gate, leaving only one good area to watch from. Said area was a wide, open space, consisting of clusters of umbrella-sheltered benches and tables. With no signage or nearby stand, I could only guess that it was a sort of general lounge for any people who needed to rest their feet or hooves. And unlike the games area, people were expected to loiter there.

Moving on, I knew what the next booths held before I even got close. A myriad of scents, from fries to pasta to ‘elephant ears’, slammed into my nostrils.

The booths closest to the exhibits were the quick-and-easy fast food, but it was quite telling that the festival had decided it was worth bringing in larger tents for restaurant-quality vendors.

Each establishment had its own set of sheltered tables and cushions, in a similar fashion to the exhibit’s lounges. Most were completely unoccupied, though I was certain that would change in about half an hour.

The pasta, burrito and pizza tents all tempted me toward an early lunch as I passed by; their sweet aromas were certainly more persuasive than any carny’s sales pitch, in any event.

However, all thoughts of food faded away when I reached the sandwich shop in the back. Not that there was anything wrong with it; the smell was just as tempting as the others and the layout of the dining area was just the same.

No, it was what was across the street that demanded my attention: the trio of warehouses. As my eyes settled on the middle one, I was both embarrassed and relieved to note that it was distinctly lacking in military fortification.

The only thing that came close was the ceremonial Guard cart, the kind that looked like a golden chariot with wings and bore a jeweled emblem of the sun; it was parked out front in a clear statement to potential troublemakers.

For the moment, the situation didn’t look too bad. Absurd day dreams aside, the festival itself had me worried about just how many guards would be lurking around the warehouses. While I had no intention of fighting anyone, that isn’t the only thing affected by numbers. The more guards I had to convince, the greater the risk of someone questioning my cover story. After all, Ruby’s solution would be all but impossible to use if someone was looking over my shoulder.

Still, I’d have to be perfect when I made my move and there was no guarantee things would stay this way once night fell. And then there was the Cartel.

I’d just have to be patient and keep an eye on things. As I continued to glance around, I got this weird feeling, like the festival itself had somehow taken pity on me. In addition to being across from the warehouses, the tables offered a clear, if distant, view of the park entrance.

I had a feeling I’d be buying a tea or three from this fine establishment.

11 - Old Habits

As I approached the warehouse, I felt my chest tighten with each step. Night had fallen, there was no one else around and the Guard’s cart was even gone. It was perfect, almost too perfect.

There was no way they knew I was coming, but I couldn’t help but feel the whole situation was a set up. Perhaps not for me, but traps have been known to catch things other than their intended prey.

Still, I had to make my move early that night, as to wait would invariably give the advantage to my enemy. The Cartel was more likely to act tomorrow, drastically increasing the risk of us running into each other and more than negating the advantages of an additional day’s reconnaissance. Similarly, the night’s darkest hours meant fewer non-Cartel factors at the risk of the Cartel either getting in before or at the same time as me.

This gave me exactly one shot. I had to be smooth and convincing in the face of suspicion. While this was far from my first time bluffing my way through a situation, the stakes were high enough that even a strong prop like my ID did little to ease my edginess.

As I trudged up the stairs, they were as lookouts, creaking and groaning to their masters. The heavy, oaken door, called forth by its companions, loomed over me, all too eager to judge.

Bracing myself, I pushed on into what was some sort of office-reception combination. Each corner was populated by a desk with accompanying name plate, chair and filing cabinet. Currently, only the desk to my immediate left was occupied by a light blue unicorn mare. ‘Even Flow’, according to her plate.

Along the left wall was another wooden door, this time watched over by an earth pony guard. I could already feel his eyes on me, even though he hadn’t moved a muscle.

Half of me was relieved that security was so light; the other was pondering just how many they’d have waiting in or around the warehouse proper.

Even Flow was hunched over a stack of paperwork. She applied a stamp to the current form as she glanced up. While she looked tired, her smile was a far warmer welcome than the guard’s.

She tapped a hoof on her desk. “ID, miss?”

I looked down at my badge, which had flipped around to its blank backside. Giving it an annoyed look, I nudged the string until the picture was facing forward.

“You’re here awfully late, Miss Strands.” Even Flow raised an eyebrow.

I held my head high as I nodded. “I was delayed, so I’m getting into the competition late. I’d like to claim some of the good ice before the next day starts.

A lump formed in my throat; this was the crucial moment.

Some people may ask why the festival doesn’t just keep pegasi on-site to create ice as required. I was among those people until I started looking for my ticket in. While making ice is easy, making consistent, high-quality, competition-grade ice is time-consuming, precise and even unreliable. It’s no wonder that the officials would play things safe and place an order with Cloudsdale months in advance.

Despite all the precaution, the very nature of crafting by hoof meant that the product wouldn’t all be equal, even if the margin of error was relatively small. The big question was whether I seemed hardcore enough to fuss over that.

Even Flow stared at me for a couple seconds before finally replying, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, miss. Our competitions involve only the choicest of ice. However, if it would ease your mind, you may mark off that which you intend to use.”

I did my best to play up my gratefulness, which wasn’t too hard, given that the majority of it was genuine. Still, it never hurt to stick to the role. “It would. Thank you.”

“All right. Go on in, then.” Even Flow motioned me toward the door.

The guard stepped aside, though he kept his eyes on me, his stare reaching an uncomfortable intensity. I made a mental note to get well away from the door before trying anything with the ice.

I stepped out into the chill of the warehouse and was greeted by ice, ice and more ice. While the closest section held a few stacks of blocks, the majority of them were gone, their pallet-shaped gaps outlined by a mess of tiny, crystalline shards. The light from the hanging lamps danced over the frozen refuse, only serving to emphasize the dull grey of the concrete cavities. Everything smelled clean and fresh, the kind of scent that always came after a morning’s snowfall.

As my eyes continued toward the back, the gaps became full pallets, with each row housing a set of six. The farthest pallets blended together, giving the impression of one giant block of ice. Part of me just wanted to fly over and carve out an elaborate fort.

For every few rows, there was a pair of overhead doors on the left and right, leading to the street and docks, respectively.

One thing that immediately struck me was the lack of additional guards; none stood nearby and not so much as a single hoofstep reached my ears.

The doubt nagging at the back of my mind grew. This was too easy, too light, even for a trap. It was more like a calculated gap, open to allow a certain organization to operate without much fuss.

I swallowed, my senses involuntarily heightening. My first instinct was to rush forward, to complete everything as quickly as I could. The logical part berated me. This was my only opportunity, and the opposition had just unknowingly given me a golden opportunity. To draw attention by acting rashly would only leave me exposed and empty-hooved.

No, I needed to keep the act up, at least until I could get to the far end. There, I could perform the test while concealed, then slip out the rear exit. I took a deep breath.

As the anxiety left my body, I walked toward the closest pile, pretending to take interest in some blemish or another.

My first few steps upon the crystal shards crunched deafeningly, the echos filling the entirety of the warehouse. I cringed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost have thought the Cartel was already here, a dozen of their hammers grinding the stockpile into powder.

But there was no further noise, leaving me rubbing at my ears. Once they were done ringing, I swiveled one behind me, just in case my ‘hosts’ were drawing their own conclusions. Their voices were a bit muffled, but it wasn’t hard to fill in the blanks.

“Is this really necessary?” the guard asked.

“Come on, Crag, you heard about Fetlock, didn’t you?” Even Flow sounded exhausted, as though she’d just repeated herself for the fiftieth time.

“Yeah, but now we know what they’re up to. Who risks that much for a pile of uncarved ice?”

“Well, we do have more security at the park for a reason. And hey, if nothing happens over here, it’s an easy paycheck.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Upon realizing they weren’t even paying attention to me, I trotted toward the back. It was time for the hard part: figuring out which blocks were the Cartel cargo.

At first, I was convinced that it couldn’t be anything near the street-side doors because there was too much risk of someone else running off with the tainted ice. However, once I reached the end, I changed my mind.

Two pallets, which were fully-stocked and closest to the the door, were each marked with a crude mess of yellow tape streaming from a wooden sign. Lulamoon was scrawled across both signs in bright blue ink.

They may as well have read I’m the shipment!

After taking a quick glance around me, I set to work, fishing Ruby’s solution out of my flight satchel. It was a large flask with one of those fancy turn spouts that was supposedly made for those of us using our mouths. It still took me three tries to get it through a full counter-clockwise rotation.

The liquid itself was clear as water, a convenient excuse that I was glad I hadn’t had to use. While it would have technically been safe to drink in order to ‘prove’ that it was water, Ruby had warned me that it might throw my stomach off.

Eagerly, I tilted the flask, splattering half-aimed solution all over the nearest block. Nothing happened. Furrowing my brow, I poured a bit more. Five seconds went by, then ten.

I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. If I was right, the solution should have already started working. But somehow, this ‘obvious’ ice wasn’t having any of that.

Spinning around, I looked for something, anything that could be a tell amongst the icy walls. But there was nothing, just endless white-blue staring back at me.

I slumped. There was no way I had enough solution to test every pallet.

That’s when I noticed a small line of green worming its way through the shards on the floor. I watched as one fragment out of a clump of five melted away.

Stepping back, I frowned. What am I missing?

Then it hit me. The Lulamoon pallets weren’t meant to prevent themselves from being taken away; they were marked off to discourage anyone from choosing the ten behind them. Most people would be taking the pallets closest to the street and then working their way in while the door was still open. Not only did this setup completely counter that tendency, but gave the Cartel clear and easy access to their ice from the dock’s side.

Hurriedly, I swung round to the nearest unmarked pallet and applied Ruby’s solution. Within seconds, the ice began to creak and groan, deforming as the liquid flowed among its crevices. The end result was a small, sickly green pool at the top of the block.

A sardonic smile crept up my lips as I realized my first instinct had actually been right.

Closing the flask, I tucked it away, trading it for an empty, handled tube and long cork. This design was a bit less unwieldy to hold, but was tougher to open without spilling its contents. Thankfully, I didn’t anticipate needing to pry it open anytime soon.

With one more glance behind me, I scooped up my sample, filling the tube as much as I could. I took one more pass, just to be sure. Pinning the tube against the next nearest block with my forehoof, I gingerly eased the cork into place. Quite frankly, despite all the concessions these bottles made, it was a wonder any earth ponies or pegasi ever chose to become chemists.

Just as I was finishing up, a dull crash, followed by several shouts, worked their way through the warehouse. I got my wing down just in time, my primaries only barely preventing my prize from being smashed against the concrete floor.

My eyes flitted over to the office. I chastised myself for even considering checking it out; more than my own well-being was riding on this information.

As I tucked the vial away in my bag, I headed for the rear exit. It was an innocuous, pony-sized door, just beside the farthest dockside overhead.

If the day’s observations were correct, the door would take me out into the alley. From there, I’d have any number of ways to slip away without being seen.

But as I pushed out into the cold night air, I just about ran headlong into a pair of stallions and their cart. One was an orangey-brown and the other a deep yellow. Both were wearing light cloaks with the hoods down, as well as leaning up against the back of the cart.

“Hey, that was quick. You really are good with the ladies,” said the yellow one as he stood up straight.

“Wait a second.” The orange-brown stallion cocked his head. “That ain’t Crag.”

Shit.

I was off without a second thought, hoping to Celestia that there weren’t any Cartel on the street. If I could get back to the festival, perhaps the presence of the Guard would scare my pursuers away. Failing that, there were plenty of places to hide, including the crowd.

“After her!” the orange-brown stallion yelled.

Adrenaline cut in and I felt myself gaining speed, to the point that I was afraid I’d trip over myself. But I somehow kept my balance, blasting out of the alleyway and straight through the parking lot.

There were no Cartel on the street; in fact, there wasn’t anyone at all.

The heavy, grimy scent of smoke invaded my nostrils just as I spotted the ring of onlookers. They were crammed, flank-to-flank, into the restaurant area. Some distance away that was almost assuredly not far enough to be safe, flames licked up toward the sky, trying to catch the roiling grey clouds before they could escape.

My heart fell. There was no way I was going to fit into that crowd, nevermind getting through it. I could fly, but if the rising heat didn’t cook me, the smoke would make it impossible for me to see incoming threats. And if I doubled back, I’d be painting a target on my back for any Cartel fliers in the area. Nonetheless, they were currently my best options and I had about ten seconds to make up my mind.

Eyes moving a million miles a minute, I searched desperately for something less likely to get me killed. A bitter salvation awaited.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before, but not only was the park gate still open, but there were no Guard present. Changing direction immediately, I headed for the opening.

While it was quite likely that the Cartel had already infiltrated the park, the sheer size alone would allow me to hide more easily. Plus, if I found a chance to take wing, the trajectory would be far preferable to my other options.

Skidding around the corner, I held myself low, looking for something, anything to hide behind. The park was generous enough to offer my choice of several long, snow-caked sections of bushes.

I headed for the closest set, sticking to the main path as long as I could. Turning off into the bushes, I spread a wing, hurriedly dusting off my tracks as I went.

Time slowed down as I took my new surroundings in. The faint scent of iron, each creak of the snow, each hoofprint and its freshness; my mind documented it all. These next few moments were crucial and the bushes could hide anyone else just as easily as I.

Granted, they would have to be trying to hide too, but the thought wasn’t so far-fetched; the Cartel clearly wanted to keep attention off their agents, otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered with the distraction.

Luckily for me, it was unlikely that those on vandalism duty would be back anytime soon. The two sculptures that used to stand in this section had already been reduced to a shattered mess.

I also doubted that smashing sculptures could be done effectively by anyone who wasn’t drawing themselves to their full height. If the sound didn’t give them away, I should have been able to spot the top of the silhouettes.

Still, it was likely they’d posted lookouts and those other goons wouldn’t be far behind me. If I didn’t want to get hemmed in, I’d have to somehow move both quickly and quietly.

I scanned the snow mounds and bushes for any larger, better hiding places. Ideally, I’d find a nice, innocuous spot and stay there until everything blew over. Unfortunately, the festival organizers seemed to have converted the whole area into a perpetual stage.

Even having seen the entire area from above, I never could have anticipated just how low and awkwardly I’d have to move to keep myself entirely behind the bushes. It wasn’t quite a belly-crawl, but my body was constantly complaining that my joints shouldn’t bend that way.

Slipping up against the farthest bushes, I poked my head around the corner—and nearly yelped. A Guard’s head, beaten and swollen under his golden helmet, protruded from the right side bushes; they bulged as they struggled to contain his body. A shallow pool of crimson congealed under his head, with individual strands escaping down the contours of the snow like bloody tears.

For a moment, I saw the silhouette of Silent Vigil. I blinked. When I opened my eyes, he was the other guard again—another name on the Cartel’s long list of victims. I stumbled as my stomach wretched, getting my forehoof back in place just in time to avoid a spill. I had to look away, but I couldn’t.

Stop! Focus! my mind demanded. I shook the haze away, but the damage had already been done.

A heavy crunch in the snow sent me whirling. I faced that yellow thug just in time to see him lunge. I barely sidestepped as he whooshed by.

With my position already compromised, I decided there was little point in trying to find a new hiding spot on the ground. Jumping forward, I spread my wings. But my cloak refused to move and I gagged as it clung to my throat.

The thug turned, his head wrapped in my cloak, and wildly swung a forehoof my way. I hardly had to move for him to whiff, but I wasn’t getting anywhere with him tangled up with me. I tugged a couple more times, but to no avail.

Desperate for alternatives, I flicked a wing at the clasp, but it didn’t budge. With a grunt of frustration, I brought my forehead down, smashing it into the bulge where his ear should be. Just to be sure, I leapt forward, driving what could barely qualify as a body slam into the front of his face. I was aiming for the snoot, but I’d settle for anything that might throw him off.

The muffled scream was my cue to duck my head, holding my muzzle up, keeping it aligned with my neck. The fit was a bit tight, but I felt the cloak slip up and over my face.

I lashed out my hind leg for good measure, not even sure where I was aiming. For a split-second, I felt it dig into something, before deflecting off to the side.

Breaking into a run, I flared my wings, flapping furiously to get myself primed. It didn’t take long; the adrenaline did far more for me than my preemptive efforts.

As I launched into the air, I expected Cartel aerial sentries to come straight for me. But while I did catch a few loitering fliers out of the corner of my eye, they hardly seemed to react until I was already several seconds out of the city.

Somehow, they must have missed the fight below. Of course, there was a lot going on and I even allowed myself a smirk as I entertained the thought that the Cartel’s own diversion had covered my escape.

But I wasn’t about to let myself get complacent, keeping myself vigilant for the next few minutes. In fact, I didn’t even let myself relax until I was halfway back to Canterlot.

12 - Simmering Fires

I noticed the loss of the ID not far from the city; or rather, that’s what I told myself in my fatigue-addled state. In reality, I was at least an hour away and still felt stupid enough to entertain the idea of going back. Thankfully, it only took a few moments for the impulse to pass. All I could do was hope the ID was lost and forgotten, buried beneath the Cartel’s carnage. But no matter how I spun it, I was still leaving everything to chance. The missing ID remained a yoke around my neck, its unseen consequences mired in the previous night.

Regardless, that persona was done for; a shame, because I’d hardly used it, but probably for the best, given that a Cartel agent had gotten a good look at it.

It was time to look to the new task at hoof: getting Ruby some food.

She has a bad habit of getting sucked into an analysis job and not emerging until the whole thing was complete. Without intervention, food, sleep and hygiene fall by the wayside. In fact, it was such a common occurrence that I’d heard her coworkers joke that Ruby’s actual special talent was converting knowledge into sustenance.

Since I’d set the pattern in motion again, I felt it my duty to pay her back. So I found myself wandering off into Canterlot to find “something edible”, as she’d so succinctly put it.

“Dusky!” The mare’s voice, one I hadn’t heard in a while, pulled my eyes to the side. But there was no way she could be here; she was off training in Fillydelphia.

However, when I spotted the orange unicorn, a short, green cadet’s jacket poking out from under her fiery red mane, there was no denying it. She was the same pony who had helped me unravel the truths behind the Necromancer and Pasture’s mad mayor; the same pony who had stood up for justice when things got messy; the same pony who was run out of Pasture as a result. She was Blaze, a trusted friend and ally.

She was already dashing toward me, though not quite at full tilt, as she struggled to maintain some token level of military air. A smirk crept up my face, but truth be told, if she hadn’t rushed over, I’d have gone to her just as quickly.

As she skidded to an awkward halt, hoof half-raised, I did my part and hugged her. She was quick to return the embrace. It was always strange to know that someone so impulsive and instinctual felt the need to hold back around me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the lessons of Pasture had produced lopsided results.

When we stepped apart, I eyed her up and down, noting that she’d bulked up a bit. “Blaze? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Fillydelphia?”

“Yeah, but they had to close up the academy. Said something ‘bout finishing elsewhere and next thing I knew, we were all shoved out here. Didn’t you get my letter?”

My mind drifted back to my apartment, to my dresser and the stack of untouched mail that lazed upon it. I gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I’ve been run off my hooves the last few weeks.”

“Is it serious? Something I can help with?” Blaze cocked an eyebrow. She knew there was little that could disrupt our correspondence and was doubtlessly aware I knew she knew.

“I... don’t know. It’s complicated, but I think things should be coming to a close soon enough,” I said, the last part as much to myself as Blaze. Once the analysis was done and in, I’d walk away and that would be it.

Catching myself before I could burrow deeper into my own thoughts, I turned back to Blaze, and found her tilting her head at me. I stared back. “What?”

She frowned, chewing on her words a bit. “You’re always so sure of yourself, like… like you could handle anything. This must be something really bad.”

I let out a giggle, uncertain whether I was more amused or nervous. “If that’s the impression I give, I’m afraid I’ve been unintentionally deceiving you.”

Blaze shook her head and pointed a hoof straight at me. “See? There it is.”

“Right.” Perhaps I was biased, but I was pretty sure she was mistaking being level-headed for being confident. “Well, if you really want to know, it’s not something I can discuss in public. If you’ve got some time, come get lunch with me; I can tell you back at the lab.”

“Lab?” Blaze stared at me, her expression torn between serious and playful. “You sure you’re not some kind of superhero?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not even mine. Remember when I told you about Ruby? She’s helping me with the thing. She’s just crazy enough to work through lunch, so I’m bringing her some food.”

“Oh.” Blaze almost looked disappointed, though she recovered faster than I gave her credit for.

Still, I allowed myself an inward smirk. Just like the old days.

“Er, yeah, sure.” Blaze’s voice brought me back again. “We ain’t starting until tomorrow, anyway.”

In spite of the time we spent catching up, the streets were still relatively clear, with the lunch crowd only starting to pick up. The trick would be to find a suitable place to get takeout before the rush gained its full momentum.

As luck would have it, the allure of the first cafe we came across ensnared our nostrils. Nestled amongst dozens of too-expensive fine dining establishments, Courtyard Cafe relied on a large, colourful chalkboard to draw customers. ‘Fresh carrot and honeyed oat biscuit, side of lemongrass included,’ it boasted, though I needed little more persuasion.

I glanced at Blaze. “This place sound good to you?”

“Are you kidding?” She grinned. “I’m ordering two!”

“Of course.” I gave her a smirk of my own. “You sure you weren’t sent here to conquer that unstoppable metabolism?”

“Already did,” she said, puffing her chest out and striking a pose.

I clamped my mouth shut, trying to keep my amusement from bubbling out. While Blaze had gained some notable bulk, she was only now catching up to my own. Thing is, even way back when I’d met her, she wasn’t that much smaller than me. Although, I did have to admit that sometimes I was just a little jealous of her ability to get away with eating whatever she wanted.

With a nod, I trotted toward the door. “If you say so.”

From the moment we entered, it was clear that despite being nearly muscled-out by the finer dining, this cafe was certainly no slouch. Canterlot’s purple and gold architecture continued into the building, doing an impressive job of mimicking each curve and each band of trim. The ceiling was a light blue with white clouds painted here and there. Such a painting, no matter how well done, could never fool a pegasus; it was pleasing, nonetheless. Beneath the fake sky were solid, purple picnic tables, with plush cushions of the same colour built into the benches. And just in case that wasn’t quite fancy enough, floral etchings, inset with golden paint, filled out each corner.

At least half of the tables were already taken and the line of business ponies nearly reached the door. I was rather glad we hadn’t dawdled any longer.

As we settled in for the long wait, I turned to Blaze, eager to address a nagging thought. “So what happened at the academy that was bad enough for you to end up here?”

“They never tell us anything, but word’s going round about a pipe burst that messed up the first floor something fierce.”

I blinked. “Doesn’t that first floor see the most traffic? How did no one notice until it did that much damage?”

Blaze shrugged. “Who knows? They wouldn’t even let us empty our own lockers. Then all the real Guards moved into some tiny building and shipped us cadets away.”

“Seems like an awful lot of fuss for a simple pipe burst.”

“You think it’s foul play? Like them?” Blaze was on it in a second, her preconceptions betraying her. While I’d warned her about the Cartel’s infiltration—and respected her resolve when she said she was going to join anyway to set things right—I hadn’t expected her to see them everywhere.

“Probably not.” I gave her a meaningful look. “It’s hard to imagine what could be worth antagonizing the Guard like that.”

“Then what?” She stared expectantly.

Yep, juuuust like the old days.

I looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t know. Remember that all we’ve got is a rumour. Try not to get worked up over pure speculation; you’ll wear yourself out before the real thing comes.

“Er, sorry.” Blaze scuffed a hoof.

“Anyway, how are you faring away from home? I mean, as much as Filly can be called home.”

“Better than our first move. Canterlot ain’t that much bigger and the streets make more sense. Bit too glittery, if you ask me, though.”

I giggled, eying the table etchings again. “Canterlot does love its grandeur.”

“I do miss Mom and Dad.” Uncertainty filled Blaze’s voice as she stared off to the side. It was gone just as fast as it came, Blaze holding her head high. “But I’m my own mare. I can’t be hanging around forever.”

“It’s tough at first. Maybe a little…” My mind pushed long-forgotten memories forward. The tears as I parted ways with my parents. The cloud hanging over my head the next few days of school. Coping living under the care of family friends. But then came the more familiar memories. Letters from Mom and Dad. The joy that spilled from every inch of me the first time they returned to Ponyville. The frequent visits that followed.

With a sad smile, I looked back at Blaze. “No, more than a little scary, but moving away isn’t the end. You can still visit each other when you have time.”

She met my smile; it grew into a smirk. “Yeah, you’re right. I can already hear Mom telling Dad that next week’s too soon to drop by.”

“That’s the spirit!”

---

The Courtyard Cafe continued to impress: they had been prepared for the lunch rush. We’d reached the front of the line rather quickly and immediately found out why. Three ponies toiled in the back kitchen, half-hidden behind the wall of pre-packed lunch specials. Our order was stuffed into a bag and tucked under my wing before I could even consider stepping away from the counter.

We were back at the university in no time. I nosed the door of the lab open, taking care not to crush the lunches against the frame.

Ruby was still hard at work, alternating between a piece of parchment and her microscope. The chalkboard, which had been empty when I left, was now crammed full of numbers and formulae.

I motioned to Blaze to follow, then trotted over to the table next to Ruby’s. Not wanting to interrupt her, I set the lunches aside and took the moment to rest my hooves. While she often forgot to attend to herself, she’d usually notice when other people were around. Usually.

Blaze gave me a quizzical look.

“Just a little longer,” I mouthed.

It took three more circuits before Ruby finally looked up. “Oh! Dusky! Back already?”

I grinned and held up the lunch bag.

“Hah! You’ll have to tell me your secret someday.” It was then that she noticed Blaze. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Blaze, my friend from Pasture. Blaze, this is Professor Ruby Result.”

“Nice to meet you.” Blaze nodded.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Ruby smiled. “I suppose I could take a break now. We can use the side room.”

The side room was something like a small, temporary office, the kind a professor could use to prepare before a class. I’d never seen Ruby use it for academic reasons, though. I guess she was just so familiar with her curriculum that she could go straight from her actual office to the lab.

As usual, we borrowed a few extra chairs from the lab and arranged them around the light, wooden table.

Keeping in mind what I’d promised Blaze, I made sure the door was shut before I took my seat. “So, how did it go? I hope it hasn’t been too much work.”

Ruby waved a hoof. “Nope. They’re all simple calculations, just a lot of legwork involved. I’m almost done with the write-up. I’ll need to make copies and seal the official copy, but you should be good to go in a few hours.”

“Right, your seal..." I didn’t know why I didn’t get the implications beforehoof. “Ruby, about that official copy. You don’t have to put yourself in danger for me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m already a verified anonymous analyst.”

“You are?” Silent Vigil flashed before my eyes. “But even so, sometimes anonymity isn’t enough.”

“This is the heart of Canterlot. There are enough wards and alarms that all they’d find here would be a swift and unfortunate end from one princess or another.”

Blaze raised an eyebrow. “Hey, sorry to cut in, but what’s going on? Official? Are you talking about the Guard and the Cartel?”

Ruby glanced at me. “She doesn’t know?”

I shook my head before turning back to Blaze. “I was attacked the other night, by the Cartel. Then they vandalized a festival, which hurt my friend in the collateral. I did some digging, to see if they really knew or if it was all just dumb luck. And... well, damning evidence is what turned up.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped!” Blaze planted her hooves on the table, leaning halfway across it.

Placing a hoof on her shoulder, I shook my head again. “Because I couldn’t. I mean, it would have been nice to have backup, but the info demanded that I act immediately.”

“Damn!” Blaze slumped.

I blinked, pulling away from her intensity. “Blaze? You’re awfully fixated on the Cartel. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I really wish I could help you! I wish I could help Ivory and everyone they ever threatened! I…”

“Blaze, slow down.” I gave her a short nudge.

She opened her mouth and it all came out at once. “Sorry, it’s just that Dad’s been working so hard and he hasn’t gotten anywhere. All the requests to the Guard, they just disappear. Then we found out Prideful’s father had a connection to the underworld and there’s just no way it could be coincidence! You understand, don’t you?”

I shuddered as I recalled Prideful Policy, the mayor of Pasture and the uncanny hold he had over the townfolks’ minds. Even Blaze’s dad, Earnest Care, and my good friend, Ivory Hope, two very strong individuals, were affected by his manipulations to some degree. To think that he might have a much longer reach than we’d thought was worrisome.

Steeling myself, I nudged Blaze again. “If that’s the case, then more than ever, we can’t afford to act rashly. Promise me that if you find out anything, you’ll come to me first.”

“All right.” Blaze scuffed at the table. “I hate these games.”

Looking away, I caught Ruby’s eye. It was one of those rare occasions when she actually looked worried. Normally, she’d just laugh things off and say something encouraging. But in our wordless exchange, her face clearly said, “This isn’t ever going to end for you, is it?”

I shook my head. “Me too. But we can’t fight on even ground without it.”

“Seems that way.” Blaze continued to play with the table.

“If you ever need to find me or… even if you just want to visit, come to Ponyville. There’s a bar called The Lusty Seapony. I’m there many nights a week.”

Blaze nodded a few times, pausing halfway through the third or fourth. “Wait, Seapony? Isn’t Ponyville, um...”

“Landlocked?” Sporting a renewed smile, Ruby seized the opportunity. “Sure is!”

Blaze gaped, eyes flitting between the two of us. “Then why?”

“You know, I wondered that myself,” I said, letting a smirk creep up my lips. “So one night I asked Barkeep…”

13 - Hurry Up and Wait

I was home, and yet not. While I’d been away just a bit longer than a weekend, it felt like ages had passed since I’d last been at the Seapony. As I trotted up the path, the bar came off as a bit alien, a warm glow concealing the chill of the unknown.

My stop in Canterlot had cost time, time during which information could spread—information which I could very well have given away in Hoofington. Even in the familiar places, where I’d be surrounded by friends, I had to be vigilant.

I drew in a deep breath. Just a little longer and this whole thing would be out of my hooves. Provided I could find someone trustworthy, that is. But if I could just get the Guard to move, they would likely draw any attention away from me, simply by doing their job.

Or it’ll just be the beginning of something worse, my brain nagged.

Frowning, I nosed the door open. Sometimes I didn’t like my voice of reason. I mean, it was probably the only thing that had kept me alive this long, but it would’ve been nice to relax for a night.

Night Flurry, Blizzard, Starshadow and Merriweather sat around our table. Despite the absence of Terra and Mahogany, the table was crammed full of an impressive amount of glasses. I really needed to get used to Merriweather’s contributions.

Starshadow was looking right at me as I entered. She bowed her head. “Ah. Hail, Dusky.”

“D-Dusky?” Night Flurry’s ears perked up and he’d barely spun around before he was waiving his hoof with a vigour that could rival Terra. “Oh! Hey, Dusky!”

I padded in, glancing behind me one last time as the door slid shut. Doing my best to smile through the fatigue, I trotted over to my friends.

Night Flurry stared at me, focused enough that he didn’t shy away when I stared back. Of all the times to start cluing in to details, he had to pick that night. Not that it particularly mattered, since I planned to tell everyone about the analysis, but still... he was making me a bit nervous.

“You, um... you okay, Dusky?” he asked, a hint of colour playing across his cheeks. Perhaps he had noticed my stare. “You... s-seem kind of tired…”

“I'm okay. I've... just been flying for awhile and had a few long nights lately.” I glanced at the others; they didn’t seem all that tipsy. Upon further inspection, it appeared that the majority of the drinks were still full. Which meant, if there was ever a time to break the news, it was now.

I let my eyes settle on Blizzard. “I found a few things out that you may be interested in, Blizzard.”

Blizzard blinked, apparently not quite on the same page. She looked at everyone else before finally answering, “Me? Err… sure. What’s up?”

My eyes flitted over the rest of the room. The other patrons seemed more interested in their drinks, but it’s not like that wasn’t easy to fake. At the same time, I couldn’t wait around forever.

I turned back to the table, leaning in just a bit. “Although, I'd actually like to talk to all of you. In private.”

With everyone informed, I snuck over to Barkeep. He was most cooperative, even letting me have the room for free. In rather short order, I had everyone filing into the room.

I kept an eye on the commons as I closed the door. While no one had been coming our way, that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone waiting for me to let down my guard. Once the door was completely shut, I turned my ears toward it. When a half-minute went by without so much as a hoofstep, I allowed myself to relax, if only a little.

Trotting over to the table, I dug one of the analysis scrolls out of my flight satchel and unfurled it. It proved somewhat uncooperative, and I ended up having to pin it to the table with both forehooves.

Everyone stared around my hooves, although Starshadow was the only one to shed her blank look. Rather unsurprising reactions, really, since I had to ask Ruby to explain it to me twice before I felt knowledgeable enough to clarify in her stead.

“This is a chemical analysis confirming a sample of plant extract I found.”

The confusion in Night Flurry’s eyes only deepened. “A... plant?”

I nodded, hoping the wording I’d brainstormed on the way back to Ponyville would be coherent enough. “The more I thought about it, the harder it was to shake the feeling that the Cartel’s presence and the vandalized ice were somehow connected.”

Starshadow’s eyes didn’t leave the scroll. “Intriguing... then this extract was mixed into the ice?”

“Yes,” I said, glad we weren’t going to spend the whole time with just me talking. “Ghost Leaf’s a powerful hallucinogen. A favorite among the rave crowd. And worth a pretty bit.”

Head held high, Merriweather let out a snort. “We don't have that kind of stuff back in Ostfriesen.”

The way Starshadow looked at her, I swore I could see the question marks passing between them.

Merriweather coughed. “Just... different stuff. Which the queen has outlawed, of course…”

I could feel a pang of curiosity tug at my brain, but now was not the time. Pressing onward, I simply nodded. ”There was another ice sculpting competition in Hoofington. I got a sample from their warehouse, and had a friend in Canterlot confirm my suspicions. That's where that analysis comes in.”

Night Flurry shrunk a bit. “M-monsters…”

Starshadow glanced at the scroll one more time before nodding. “Then you shall have to turn this over to the proper authorities, yes?”

Tired of standing on my hind legs, I stepped back, letting the scroll furl back up. “Yes, I… I think I have to. Especially since there can be little doubt about the connection. Two nights ago, Hoofington's display was also vandalized, and its surplus destroyed.”

Blizzard stared at the closed scroll, her question seemed more addressed to it than anyone there. “Why would they be smuggling it in ice blocks? Why bother sabotaging sculpture festivals?”

I didn’t have a clear explanation. I mean, it was a pretty reasonable guess, but without information from someone in say, the Guard, it was still just speculation. I tapped my hoof against the table as I gathered my thoughts. “I don’t know why they’re using the ice. Maybe their old methods of smuggling just aren’t discreet enough. As for the sculptures… well, my guess is they did it to cover up for the theft and make it look like full-on vandalism.”

Glancing at Blizzard, I took a deep breath, trying not to focus too much on the memory of the Guard’s corpse. “And before anyone asks, yes, there was a Guard detail assigned to the display. I... stumbled across one of the corpses on the way out.”

Blizzard scowled and shook her head. “Bastards. All seems a bit elaborate to me… but I guess I can see the logic. As twisted as it is.”

The room fell silent, though not for long.

“"D-Dusky... th-that means... you…” Night Flurry’s voice was almost inaudible at first, simmering into something I could only describe as a sort of indignation. “You put yourself there? I-into that level of danger? W-without telling us?”

I couldn’t help but glance away. There was really no denying it; as much as I’d tried to plan for safety, as much as it had been necessary, the very nature of my mission had required some rashness.

“I'm sorry, Night Flurry. Time was of the essence. I hadn't expected them to raid the warehouse that night.”

Night Flurry’s voice continued to rise as he propped himself against the table and pointed a hoof. It struck me just then that Blaze and Night Flurry had the strangest similarities. “We... We could have helped! Y-you go, telling me not to play the hero, and... I listen! B-because... I care about you... and then you put yourself back into that kind of danger without even telling us what might have happened?”

I met his gaze and spoke with complete earnesty. “If I had waited, the surplus would have been gone. If I had hesitated at all, they would have secured the perimeter before I could get in.”

He shrunk, suddenly looking more tired than angry. He stared down at the table as he replied, “I... I just don't want anything to happen to you. But... you're right…”

“I understand.” I gave him a sad smile. After all, it wasn’t too long ago I’d felt the same. “If it makes you feel better, my good luck was on par with my bad. They were so surprised that I didn't even need to draw my weapon.”

Starshadow’s nod was firm, a warrior’s approval that made me feel a little better about the situation. “The best kind of luck. I am glad you managed to avoid any significant confrontation.”

“Yeah!” Merriweather chimed in, a mischievous grin spreading up her lips. “You'd have kicked their flanks anyway, right? So what do we do?”

I sighed. While I knew Merriweather was just trying to be encouraging, it only emphasized just how harsh the reality was. “We can't do anything. If our little group tried to oppose them, we'd be crushed.”

Staring at the floor, I did my best to push the fall of the safehouse from my mind. Even so, glimpses of my friends in place of the Guards seeped into my mind. “Trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about.”

The room was still again. We were helpless. It was a feeling I’d never wanted to burden my friends with, but the Cartel had forced my hoof. Now all I could do was offer an explanation, a consolation prize.

Blizzard’s sigh was heavy, a delayed echo of my own. She looked at me, smiling that same brave smile I’d put on moments ago. “Thank you, Dusky. You put a lot of work into this, I can tell… and it means a lot to me.”

She stood, trotting around the table to me. But she didn’t stop there, instead wrapping me in her hooves and wings. I froze. In truth, I didn’t think I deserved a hug for all the trouble I’d brought with me, but I returned her embrace, nonetheless.

“I’m happy that it does. I… I wish I could do more. Really get them into the public eye. But the last time I tried that…” I let go and stepped back. “Let’s just say that it didn’t end well.”

Blizzard pulled back, as well, and sighed again. After a few moments, her eyes found Merriweather. With a guilty smile, she spoke, “I suppose I owe you an apology. I just thought it was you and some drunks being stupid.”

Merriweather giggled and waved her hoof. “Don’t worry about it… Not the first time I’ve been accused of getting drunk and accidentally smashing something.”

Starshadow cleared her throat. This time her glare was accompanied by a short ‘nudge’ in the ribs.

Merriweather coughed. “Oh. But yeah, I mean… I am sorry about what happened.”

“As long as I know it wasn’t just some ponies being stupid, it’s fine.” Blizzard shrugged before giving Merriweather a sympathetic look. “I’ll live.”

After packing the analysis away, I turned back to the others. And while I spoke, it was more to myself than them. I didn’t really expect any of them to have connections within the Guard. “Now, the real tough part will be finding someone in the Guard who I can absolutely trust. Or at least trust enough to not burn the report as soon as I leave.”

Night Flurry straightened up and I was almost worried he was going to fall out of his seat. He spoke softly, the words caught in his throat, “I... I kn-know somepony.”

I felt my ears swivel of their own accord. My first instinct was to be skeptical, but really, I had little to lose by hearing him out. “You do? Someone you'd entrust all of our lives to with complete certainty?”

In truth, it didn’t need to go quite that far. After all, it’d just be my life on the line. But I wanted to know he was certain beyond a doubt.

“I... absolutely,” he replied firmly, with a rare confidence that almost made me more suspicious. “I trust him.”

“A shame,” Starshadow mused as she stood. “It would have been interesting to engage with this Cartel.”

Merriweather giggled, shaking her head in imitation of Starshadow. “C'mon Sis’, weren't we going to practice your whole non-interference thing? They're handling things just fine.”

Cocking an eyebrow at Merriweather, Starshadow sighed. “I suppose. But should our friends be harmed, those responsible shall get the worst of us.”

I stared at Starshadow. Of everyone in the room, I’d never expected her to be the most gung-ho about a fight. It was like I’d temporarily stepped into some weird, alternate dimension where she and Merriweather had switched places. “No. That's too dangerous. This isn't about revenge. I needed to know they weren't after me or my friends. And to soften the collateral they wreaked upon Blizzard. We'll pass on the information to Night Flurry's contact, and then leave it be.”

Starshadow backed down almost immediately, as though suddenly aware of just how worked up she’d been. “So be it.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I was certain I could have swayed the others, but Starshadow was a bit harder to get a read on. If she had been really determined, I doubt there was much I could have done to stop her.

“Good. That's all. Thanks for listening, all of you.”

Turning back to Night Flurry, I smiled. “And could you stay a moment, please, Night Flurry?”

“Er... s-sure?” He settled on his haunches while the others excused themselves.

Merriweather, of course, couldn’t resist throwing out a wink and mouthing “Good luck!” before shutting the door.

Shaking my head, I eyed Night Flurry up and down. It was time to find out more about this contact who inspired such confidence in him. “All right, about your contact in the Guard: you're sure they can be trusted?”

Night Flurry thought for a moment. “Y-yes. I do. He's a Captain in the Solar Guard. I... I would trust him completely.”

I blinked. Captain? Hmmm, could it be… one of his estranged family? This could be problematic.

His ears drooped. “H-he and I... we just…”

Freezing up, he seemed to become lost. My skepticism grew with each second.

With a sigh, he found himself again. “We haven't spoken in a long time.”

I narrowed my eyes. As I’d suspected, he was making assumptions based on a dormant relationship. “How can you know he’s trustworthy if you haven’t spoke to him in so long?”

“He… he never let me down. I know he’s trustworthy… A-and we lost touch because…” Night Flurry shrunk down. “I was the one who stopped reaching out.”

Unsure whether that made things better or worse, I sighed inwardly. It wasn’t like I had a better choice at the moment. I supposed that, as a Captain, Night Flurry’s contact was significantly less likely to have Cartel affiliations, but still, I could never be too careful. There was nothing left to do but judge him myself and decide whether or not he deserved to have my information.

“Then, as long as you're comfortable setting up the meeting, this should work.”

“I... Yes. I don't mind. I... I'll write a letter tonight. And... I'll let you know once he wants to meet with us.”

I raised an eyebrow, uncertain if he felt obligated to be there. This could get awkward fast.

“Us? You sure? You wouldn't have to come, especially if you're uncomfortable.”

“No, I'll come too... if um... if that's all right with you?”

“He's your contact. If you think it's best, then sure.” I gave him my best reassuring smile. “I think I'll go and get a drink. I've had a long last few days. I could use a little relaxation.”

I trotted toward the door.

“R-right.” Night Flurry said, trailing just a bit behind me. “I'm... I'm going to h-head home. Get that letter written.”

“Thanks again, Night Flurry. You have a good night.”

“Y-you too. And Dusky... t-take care.” Colour filled his cheeks. “B-be careful.”

“You too.”

---

I was nervous. Not that I was trying to be ungrateful or anything, but Night Flurry’s description of the state of his and his contact’s relationship left me worried. What if this other family member didn’t want to talk to him? We could be waiting for something that would never come. Or even if something could be arranged, there was the risk that I was walking into something that could collapse into an argument at the drop of a hat.

I’d sent word to Lockbox, of course, exploring my options for alternatives. He was the only one I fully trusted to find a Guard contact, as he had as much reason as me, if not more, to be careful. So when several days went by without any news, I began to worry.

There was just too much at stake and nothing to do but wait.

I began to plan for worst: if the Cartel really was on to me, if my sniffing around had put them on guard or even if there just wasn’t anyone willing to help.

There was just too much to consider. Each night I found myself staring at the ceiling, mincing the details against it.

I was at the Seapony more and more, admittedly, binging a bit on a second or third drink. While the extra cider did little for the fatigue, it did wonders to keep me calm. Somewhere in there, I think I reassured Terra and Mahogany that everything would be back to normal soon enough. My own hope was the only thing that made it wishful thinking, rather than an outright lie.

Eventually, on the fifth or sixth night, the exhaustion caught up to me post-shift. I’d barely gotten home, hadn’t even had supper yet and couldn’t have cared less. I collapsed onto my bed, fading away into blissful nothingness.

The next day treated me little better, as I woke with my muzzle buried so deeply in the mattress that when I pulled away, the indent kept its shape for a few moments. I'd also flipped upside down, such that my flank was squashed up against the headboard. Somehow, I dragged myself out and through the light flurries of my shift. I wanted to collapse again, but my worries and desire for company won out.

And so I trudged toward the Seapony, my hooves not so much leaving hoofprints as cleaving paths through the fresh powder. At this point, I was pretty much ready to talk about anything, even Terrabona’s matchmaking wisdom. Or at least, so I thought.

Just as I neared the Seapony’s doors, they flung open, red light hanging off the edges. Terra shot out of the bar, practically a green blur as she nearly bowled me over. I stared, having never, ever seen her move so fast before.

I didn’t get a really good look, but fear, framed by streams of tears, was plastered across her face. Before I could open my mouth, she was already disappearing down the street. Something had terrified her and she wasn’t even sticking around to tell me what.

My body snapped to, the exhaustion suddenly gone. The Cartel had surely found me this time and my friends were suffering the consequences. Time slowed down as I turned my ears forward and edged up to the door.

There was chatter, lots of it. But for some strange reason, it seemed normal. Someone was complaining about spilled beer, another bragging about hauling a house across town.

“What? Wait! Terra! Aww, c’mon!” Mahogany’s muffled cry barely reached me through the door.

Finally, my brain couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing added up, so it was time to see for myself. Nosing the door open, I was not greeted by a room full of thugs, but a perfectly normal bar.

Mahogany was lumbering away from our table, squinting as he waved.

“Oh, good! Y’heard me!” he shouted about twice as loudly as was necessary. Meanwhile, at the table, Merriweather was laughing while Starshadow shook her head at the both of them.

I cringed as I stepped inside. Despite the newest excitement, my fighter’s instinct was settling down, leaving me with a sense of relaxation that just didn’t feel right.

Turning to Mahogany, I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Oh! Oh!” His face contorted as he fumbled for words that weren’t meant for Terra. “Dusky! Y’gotta talk some sense into Terra!”

“Depends,” I said, glancing around in case something external had scared Terra. “Does this have anything to do with why she ran out of here crying?”

“Yes! Yep! Yeah! But, uh, I dunno why.” Mahogany’s face was clouded with confusion and concern.

I shook my head. Way to give me a heart attack.

“You don’t? You… sure? She seemed pretty upset.”

“We were just talking about her foal!” Merriweather chimed in.

“Her… what?” I blinked. Something definitely didn’t seem right. While Terra was a romantic, she was not the type to go getting herself pregnant off of a one night stand. And besides that, there was no way she had a secret foal with some secret stallion; she’d have been gushing over him to me the moment they met. Or even before that.

“Last night she ran off with dis foal,” Mahogany answered, flailing his hooves in the air in a way that might have been him trying to indicate the approximate size of the child. “Dint come back ‘til late. So I said she was like a… a Matron!”

Ugh... This is what I get for taking a break. I pressed a hoof to my head. “Okay… you sure you didn’t say anything else? Because this really doesn’t match her reaction.”

“Ahem!” Starshadow said, waiting for all our eyes to be on her before breaking into a strangely convincing Mahogany impression, “I believe you said, and I quote, ‘Matron Terrabona. All prim and proper-like, wavin’ a ruler aroun’. Keepin’ all dem foals all in line ‘n’ stuff!’”

I moved my hoof to my mouth just in time to stifle a snicker. “Thanks, Starshadow.”

“Happy to be of service.” She bowed.

It was my turn to clear my throat, although in a much less dramatic way than Starshadow. “Right. If I had to guess, it might be because you indirectly called her old. I mean, I doubt that’s the core issue, but it might have touched some other nerve.”

“Oh. Right...” Mahogany stood completely still, as though his brain was still processing. It could have been my imagination, but I thought I heard his brain creaking and groaning under the effort. “So, uhhhhh…”

“Yes,” I sighed. “I’ll go talk to her.”

“Thanks, Dusky! I’ll getcharound when ya come back!”

I smirked. “I’ll hold you to that.”

---

Terrabona’s house was small and simple, much like my apartment, except, well, an actual house with a real yard. Some of the paint was looking a little worn and the faint odor of half-frozen leaves made me question the last time she’d cleaned her gutters, but otherwise her house was always reasonably presentable. At least, the walkway had already been cleared right down to the gravel.

I stood on her porch, my hoof raised to the magenta door, as I tried to think of a non-awkward way to broach the subject. Not wanting to stand outside all night, I settled for ‘least awkward’.

Of course, that was assuming Terra was even in a mood to answer the door. Drawing in a deep breath, I gave the door three firm knocks.

“Go away!” Terra responded instantly and loudly enough that I was pretty sure she’d just been sitting by the door since she got home. She was also obviously drunk—I could even smell the whiskey from there.

“Terra, it’s me! Dusky!” I called back.

“I’m not home! Go away!”

I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes at the door, useless as it was. “Come on, Terra! Don’t be like that! Do you really want to lie on the floor moping all night when I’m here for you?”

A heavy silence fell between us. My concern grew with each second until finally, I just couldn’t wait any longer.

I tapped a little lighter this time before calling out, “Terra?”

The lock turned and I felt my breath catch in my throat. A few excruciating moments later, the door eased open just the barest of cracks. One bloodshot eye peered out at me. It was actually a little disconcerting, as the moonlight was too weak to reveal the rest of her face.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Shee? Now go away.” Terra mumbled, her voice fading as she progressed. There was a slight waver to her voice, nearly lost beneath her breath.

I caught a glint in her eye, one that continued to hold the moon’s light as it trickled down her cheek.

With a sigh, I leaned in closer. “Then how come you’re crying?”

The door opened just a little more, this time held in the red aura of her magic. There were obvious dark spots under her eyes and her forelock was completely frazzled, as though she’d been grinding her hooves against it.

Still, she tried to smile at me, that sort of ‘innocently guilty’ look a filly gives when she’s caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. She couldn’t even hold it for three seconds before her eyes fell to the floor.

“Fine. Come on in.”

Terra’s house was just as cluttered as her shop, with boxes and cartons of something or other stacked against the walls in no particular form of organization. And just like her shop, Terra could find anything she needed without a second thought.

She led me toward the living room. The scent of old whiskey was already wafting into my nostrils by the time we were halfway down the hall, but it wasn’t until we rounded the corner that it really hit me. I wrinkled my muzzle, trying to adjust a little before pushing onward.

The living room was still laid out more or less the same as always with more boxes and cartons ringing the room. I was certain they’d have swallowed the room whole if Terra didn’t need space for her sofa and loveseat set. They carved a hole in the very centre, where the sole large window would have deposited the majority of its sunlight. However, Terra and sunlight didn’t appear to be on particularly good terms these days—the heavy curtains were drawn tight.

A long coffee table sat between the two seat sets, sporting a couple candles. They illuminated the floor just enough that I thought I could see some hardwood patches beneath the sea of whiskey bottles.

I stared at Terra, suddenly feeling guilty I hadn’t picked up on this earlier. “Have... have you been drinking all day?”

She scuffed the floor, forehoof knocking aside a bottle with a hollow tonk. Terra opened her mouth, but it was several moments before she actually answered. “Yesh.”

Trotting over to her, I took a quick survey of the bottles. There were a lot. Too many, in fact, which was in a strange, twisted sense, a relief. Even Terra’s legendary alcohol tolerance wouldn’t have stood up to this cache. If she’d really binged that hard, I’d already have been dragging her to the hospital or… well, I didn’t want to think about the alternative.

“This isn’t just about tonight, is it?”

Terra shook her head. “No.”

“How long?” I asked, not really looking for the answer itself as much as how she said it.

“I…” Terra slumped. “I don’t know.”

I circled around so that I was facing her head-on. “Terra. What’s wrong? I want to help.”

Once again, I already had an idea of the answer, but I’d rather have her reach out to me than press the issue. Things had better odds of working out that way.

Terra continued to slump until she was sitting on her haunches. “I’m old an’... an’ pasht my prime!”

I frowned. Then the spell still wasn’t gone and I suspected her ‘sexy’ wasn’t the only thing it had affected. We’d just been too distracted by the obvious.

“C’mon, Terra. You’re a beautiful mare and you know it. And I’m sure everyone who looks your way knows it.”

“But, Dushky, ish not just about beauty. The shexy is more like the thing in your thing.”

“Um... what?”

“The thiiiing,” Terra replied. She stood, dejectedly shaking her rump—and almost toppled over.

As I rushed to steady her, it hit me just what she’d been getting at. A chill formed on the back of my neck, sliding down my body, through every hair in my coat. “I think I see now. Terra, this… this isn’t just stopping you from feeling attracted to anyone; it’s preventing you from feeling attractive. Am I right?”

“Yeeeeeesh! I’m jusht an old maid now!“ Terra whimpered, as she threw her head and hooves into the air, her lament suddenly several times more unsettling. This wasn’t just about relationships or an urge between her legs; it was an alienation of self. She knew how she wanted to feel, how she was supposed to feel. And yet, this magic wouldn’t give her so much as an inch.

I could feel renewed anger toward Starshadow rising in my cheeks, wondering if she’d truly known what she was casting. But there would be time for that later.

“Old maid? Terra, why would you say that about yourself?” I stepped up beside her and gave her a quick wing-hug.

“Ashter,” she whispered.

My mind drifted back to the park, where the purple filly and her attitude problem had so kindly introduced themselves.

“Foals sometimes say mean things Terra, try not to let it get to you.”

“She didn’t! I mean, she did, but thash not it!” Terra milled the air with her forehooves and just about fell over again.

“Okaaaaay, let’s get you on the sofa before you hurt yourself,” I said, guiding her over. There was a small fleece blanket draped over the back that I hadn’t quite noticed, most likely because it was the same colour as the sofa and practically on the floor behind it. I pulled it over her before continuing. “Then what is it, Terra?”

“I… I… I rehpra… rehpre… reprimanded her!” She buried her muzzle in the blanket.

“Um…” I blinked. “What’s so bad about that? She’s not exactly tactful. As in, not at all.”

“‘Caush I’m like… like…” She burrowed again.

“Like what?” Leaning in closer, I nudged Terra.

“A moooooo-therrrrr!” Terra burst up from the blankets, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What?”

Terra didn’t seem to hear me. “A-all naggy and chashin’ her around crampin’ her shtyle!”

“Okay, now this is about what Mahogany said, isn’t it?”

She looked down. “Yesh.”

Propping myself up on my hind legs, I gave her a tight hug.“I know this doesn’t change that it hurts, but he wasn’t trying to be malicious.”

“It hurtsh caush he’s right.” Terra slumped again.

“Just because you’re being kind and responsible, doesn’t mean you’re over the hill, Terra.”

“Responshible ish the end of the shexy.”

I couldn’t help but pull away a little. Her words weren’t malicious either, but they were certainly unexpected. Quickly collecting myself, I smirked. “If that’s true, then what does that make me? Certainly not someone worth trying to set up on dates with an endless list of people, right?”

Her eyes were drooping, practically closed. Still, she somehow mustered the energy to stick out her tongue. “Crazy.”

“Uh, huh.”

“Yeah! ‘Caush you… you gotsh the shexy an’... an’ you don’t….” And then she was snoring.

I let out a chuckle as I shook my head. “Right. I might be crazy, but I don’t think it’s because I don’t use my ‘sexy’.”

Terra’s only response was more snoring. With another giggle, I adjusted the blanket, ensuring it covered as much of her as possible.

After checking to make sure the door was bolted, I settled down on the loveseat. I decided I’d wait a few hours to make sure she was okay. Then maybe I could see if I could find her spare key and slip out.

Of course, plans don’t always work out and as I drifted off, I couldn’t help but think that this was our weirdest ‘slumber party’ to date.

14 - Identities

In the morning, Terra was generally more coherent, but also tight-lipped about the whole business with Aster. All I could get out of her was that Aster had wandered into the bar—for what reason, Terra didn’t know. Predictably, Aster wasn’t welcome. Less predictably, Terra took it upon herself to escort the loud-mouthed filly home.

This was where she started getting particularly vague, but apparently they spent some time wandering around before finding Aster’s house and meeting her father. Terra wouldn’t say anything more, but I suspected this mysterious stallion was as much a cause of her discomfort as the whole mothering thing. I decided it was best not to pry too hard—at least until the ‘sexy’-suppressing spell was no longer an issue.

It was just as well, since that very same day, Night Flurry brought me news from his contact. I didn’t want to get overly hopeful, but his willingness to even meet was a good first step.

Getting to work, I provided Night Flurry with the details my anxiety had insisted I prepare days ago. We would be returning to the shadier side of the city, but I didn’t want to use my best locations. I’d settled on the Adorned Petal, one of the busier, somewhat fancier hubs. Sure, there was a slightly higher risk of being seen by a Cartel informant, but when dealing with strangers, I like places where funny business would have dire consequences for them.

We sent the letter express, and within two days, Noble Light was set to meet with ‘Ebony Mist’. I almost felt bad about using an alias, but I wasn’t taking any chances this time.

So Night Flurry and I arranged to meet at the Seapony for an early afternoon trip to Canterlot.

He was already waiting in front of the bar, its two stories providing little protection from the sun, which highlighted each of his features. Staring off into the distance, he fidgeted with the ground, no doubt lost in thought about the upcoming reunion.

His flight satchels looked light, something that would have been appropriate for a normal trip to Canterlot. But again, I wasn’t taking any chances. I had the standard survival and first aid kit, plus a week’s worth of rations and an extra bag of bits.

Trotting up beside him, I spoke just loud enough to get his attention, “Hello, Night Flurry.”

Despite my care, he still looked like he wanted to hop away from me. He just barely held himself in place as he fumbled out a response, “Hey, Dusky… you, um… ready to go?”

I smiled, hoping it would help him calm down. “Sure. Have you been waiting long?”

Night Flurry shook his head, his lips just barely fighting back as he smiled. “Oh, um, no, not really… just… been here, thinking.”

It was pretty much a complete non-answer, but I simply raised an eyebrow instead of pressing further. I didn’t need him being even more nervous at this meeting.

“All right. Guess we’d better go if we want to get there early,” I said as I spread my wings. To be perfectly honest, I was pretty on edge and just taking to the sky made me feel a bit better. The sooner this was over, the better.

Night Flurry wasn’t far behind, although I had to slow down a bit to let him catch up.

“Th-this will be my first trip to, um… to Canterlot,” he said as he came up alongside me.

“Canterlot is a beautiful place. It’s too bad your first time has to be for something like this.” I gave him an apologetic look. He didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s so strange…” He stared off at the distant mountain. “Canterlot has always been there, just on the horizon, but I’ve never made the trip.”

I glanced down, making sure we were following the tracks before I responded. With the exception of a few sections, the railroad took the shortest route to the mountain.

A giggle escaped my lips as I turned back to him. “Well, you don’t have to go straight home after we’ve met up with your contact. Maybe you can use this trip as an excuse to tour the city.”

Silently, I added that, even assuming his contact was legit, their whole reunion thing could get awkward or worse. Perhaps a little exploration could provide some necessary distraction.

As I came out of my own thoughts, I realized I’d gotten a couple lengths ahead of Night Flurry again. I held my wings a moment, letting myself drift back until we were side-by-side. I chastised myself, telling myself to stay calm.

But once I’d gotten a good look at his face, I knew I wasn’t the only one whose pace was affected by the weight of thought.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I… well… Dusky, I… I need to come clean.” He looked like he was going to start hyperventilating. The stare I gave him before I could catch myself probably didn’t help. “A-about my contact… and… what happened between us.”

Night Flurry shrunk down and I pursed my lips as I tried to keep a dozen questions, including why he didn’t say anything earlier, under wraps. Deciding there was nothing for it but to hear him out, I nodded. “All right, Night Flurry. I’m listening.”

Staring at the ground, his reply was almost lost to the wind. “He… I’m… I was in the Guard, once. A long time ago…”

I glanced back at him, waiting him to continue—and hopefully give me some new information.

“I joined up as soon as I was able to, volunteering to serve. I wanted to serve Princess Celestia, to… to serve Equestria, and keep it safe. But… I couldn’t do it.” There was an edge to his voice, a disappointed harshness he turned upon himself. He’d wanted to be a hero. I couldn’t blame him, since I’d once wanted much the same. Although, unlike him, I’d never had pressure from my family.

“You dropped out of training?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.

“Yeah... “ He sighed. “It wasn’t for me… I just… couldn’t.”

I eyed him up and down, choosing my next words carefully. “That’s not your fault. I have some experience with that kind of training. Not everyone can keep up with the intensity.”

He kind of stared at me, undoubtedly remembering my mother’s entrance, which was definitely not a standard part of Guard training. Or rather, I hoped it wasn’t standard training to start an impromptu brawl in the middle of a public location.

“It wasn’t that… well, not entirely. I went through training for a few months… They said I was meeting expectations, that I was doing fine. I… I c-couldn’t handle the stress, all the ponies…” His ears drooped, taking his whole face with them. “But.. there… were expectations I could never meet. I’m sorry, Dusky.”

I wasn’t really all that surprised. His personality, for the most part, wasn’t the kind that would do well with the large crowds involved in mass training, nevermind the rest of his duties. And if he was pushed into it at all, well, that situation wasn’t exactly fair.

“What are you sorry for? It doesn’t sound like it was your fault at all.”

“My… my contact. He… well… I moved on to the Cloudsdale Weather College after that, and… then got the job in Ponyville. We… I didn’t contact him after I left.”

I nodded, suspecting that his family member had been a trainer and that his leaving would have caused all kinds of awkwardness. At least I knew things could still get plenty awkward, even when the training was going right. “And do you think he holds it against you?”

His eyes fell below again as he sighed. “I… I don’t know. I’m sorry, Dusky… If this ends up… I don’t know… I just… I wanted to help. I know he can help. I didn’t mean to keep causing problems.”

This wasn’t quite how I pictured things. I’d expected more conflict, not for the feelings to be so one-sided. It occurred to me then that, while this was a significant risk that I was taking, Night Flurry was also sticking his neck out.

I spoke as reassuringly as I could, “It’s all right, Night Flurry. As long as this information gets into the right hooves, that’ll be enough.”

He closed his eyes. I looked ahead. Canterlot loomed overhead, high on its seat on the mountain. Just a few minutes’ ascent and we would be there.

When Night Flurry opened his eyes, they went wide, as though noticing the entire mountain for the first time. “Whoa…”

Stifling a laugh, I watched him for a bit. He almost looked happy. I really hoped there would be something here for him other than doom and gloom.

---

Canterlot was as busy as ever. Even during a time when everyone should have been at work, it always seemed like someone or several dozen had some pressing matter to attend to. Normally, I wouldn’t have paid it much mind, but between the city and the people, Night Flurry seemed a bit overwhelmed. Thankfully, this didn’t stop him from following and we reached the Adorned Petal in short order.

It was in a little cove, just barely into the bar district and not far off the main road. Unlike the rest of the city, the Adorned Petal utilized a more down-to-earth, faux rustic design, with the entire squarish building being made of wood. To complete the image, a sign hung from a pair of chains, its scripted name carving the petals from an engraved rose. I pushed the door, which had been cut and painted to look like a giant leaf, aside.

The interior continued to do the classy country feel justice; sleek wooden benches and tables filled the well-lit dining area, while the tinted glass allowed the patrons to keep an eye on the street. Soft padding lined each bench while vased roses spilled out from the walls, letting their sweet aroma waft into the room. It was like those country clubs where millionaire nobles went to while away their days, but without the exclusivity.

The cafe was quiet, which was hardly a surprise, given that we were nowhere near mealtime and most of the ‘alternative’ business would have concluded hours ago.

“Can I get you two a seat?” The hostess, a pale red pony with her mane pulled into a bun, smiled.

“Actually, we’re waiting for someone. Wanted to take one of the back rooms,” I answered before producing the normal upfront fee from my satchel.

“Sure thing!” The hostess continued to smile as she assessed the bits. It wasn’t long before she nodded. “What’s the name for your party?”

“Ebony Mist.” I let a smile of my own creep up my lips. There was no real reason to believe that this part would have gone badly, and yet, here I was feeling relieved over the simplest thing. I was letting myself get too wound up.

The hostess scribbled something down before motioning toward a back hallway. Each room we passed contained a longer table and benches to match. I thought there were also a few pictures on each wall, but I didn’t get a really good look.

Instead, my attention was drawn to a mint green pegasus mare who was lounging on the closest bench in the second room on the left. Her blonde, bound mane bobbed around her muzzle as she looked up, peering expectantly into the hall. No doubt she’d be disappointed.

She blinked, eyes fixating on me. Or was it Night Flurry? I couldn’t be sure. All I knew that was that within a couple seconds, she was on her hooves, shoving the door shut.

I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought that she had just now realized that private rooms are only private if the door is shut. Still, something nagged at the back of my mind, insisting that that wasn’t quite right. As the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, I wondered if I should abort right then and there.

No. Stop jumping at shadows. I frowned. I couldn’t let myself be spooked by something so ordinary, especially in an establishment such as this. No, I would need something bigger. Or perhaps just a second coincidence.

The hostess stopped, waving a hoof at the next door on the left. “And here you are. Just let me know if you need anything!”

Once we were inside with the door closed behind us, Night Flurry let out a sharp breath. He looked like he was trapped between the jaws of a vise, about to clamp his decision in place. This was his last chance to escape.

“He… he should be here soon, then.”

I gave an absent nod, trying to decide if it was a good idea to address his nervousness. As I finally settled on the bench with the best view of the door, I determined I should at least help him see that final chance. I owed him that much.

“It won’t take too long to give him the information. You sure you don’t want to sit out?”

He slumped into a seat some distance away.

“N-no… no, that’s all right. I need to see this through.” He looked up and smiled. “But… th-thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, Night Flurry. I should thank you too, for setting all of this up.” Smiling back, I gave him what little encouragement I could spare. Even if things went south, I wanted him to know I appreciated it.

Night Flurry lowered his head again, another, longer, sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah… l-like I said… I just want to help…”

I nodded, letting the last of my smile linger just a while longer.

We sat in silence for several minutes before the sound of hoofsteps pulled my ears toward the door. I rose as it opened, uncertainty holding me tense.

The door creaked open, and in strode a white stallion. His mane was a deep purple and, aside from the lack of cowlick, was styled almost exactly like Night Flurry’s. In fact, their muzzles held a very similar shape, though he looked much older. I wanted to say Noble Light was his father, but if I were stretching things, an older brother was also a possibility. His cutie mark was a shield bathed in light—appropriate, perhaps almost too appropriate, for a Guard.

Night Flurry leapt to his hooves and saluted. “H-hello, s-sir.”

Raising an eyebrow, I watched Night Flurry and Noble Light carefully. Of all the ways the conversation could have started, ‘formal Guard’ was not my first pick.

Noble Light paused, a split-second of hesitation I normally would have missed. Whatever Night Flurry was thinking, they definitely hadn’t been on the same page. Noble Light eyed Night Flurry up and down before finally responding, “At ease.”

While Night Flurry dropped his salute, he remained rigid. Then the two of them just stood there, staring. Whatever was between them wasn’t getting solved now.

Thinking it best that we move on, I cleared my throat. “Noble Light?”

He turned that stony gaze upon me and nodded. “Ebony Mist?”

I nodded.

“Then it appears we have some business to attend to.”

Inwardly, I wanted to take a deep breath. Thankfully, my brain knew better than to give away any tells. “I have conditions.”

“Name them.”

My chest tightened, as though it were attempting to crush itself. This was the moment that determined everything. I could only hope, not only that he would see my demands as reasonable, but that he would actually keep his word and follow through.

“I am anonymous and shall remain so. I can provide testimony, but I will not take the stand. If this is acceptable, I’ll give you the information.”

He took a few moments to reply, his face remaining unreadable. I couldn’t help but note just how different he and Night Flurry were.

“Very well.”

“Do you swear? Upon your honour?” I asked. Not that it would mean much if he meant to betray me, but at least this way I could gauge his reaction.

“Miss Mist, I assure you. My word is my oath. I promise you, by my position, rank and by the grace of her Majesty, your involvement goes no further than this room,” he replied, his voice without hesitation and his eyes never leaving mine.

I held his gaze a little longer. He didn’t so much as flinch. If he was faking it, he was good—too good for me to tell.

The odds were in favour of his sincerity, which, when I really thought about it, was probably about as good as I was going to get.

“Okay,” I said, taking a seat at the table again. I waited for Noble Light to join me before, in a voice I tried to keep just barely above inaudible, I related the events of Hoofington. Of course, I kept the personal details as vague as possible, and that was only if I couldn’t omit them entirely.

Noble Light didn’t say a word. He just watched and listened, absorbing it all like a sponge, and hardly reacting at all; only when I got to the Guard’s corpse did I catch the barest of frowns.

Once I’d concluded my testimony, I pulled out the sealed copy of the analysis, which he, once again, opened and read without a word. I was starting to feel a little nervous, like perhaps he didn’t even believe me.

I glanced over at Night Flurry. He hadn’t even bothered to sit down, doing his best to hold that same rigid stance. But Night Flurry being Night Flurry, his nerves betrayed him: he was constantly shifting and fidgeting. In fact, I got the impression that Noble Light’s stoicism was getting to him way more than me.

When Noble Light finally looked up, his expression still hadn’t changed. “I will see that this reaches the right sources.”

“So that’s it? No questions?”

He rerolled the scroll and tucked it under his wing. “Your testimony was quite clear, as is the analysis. I have all I need. Thank you for your assistance.”

“You’re welcome. I wish you luck.”

“You too. Take care of yourself.” And with that, he was gone.

Night Flurry let out a sigh that went on for nearly a minute. I couldn’t blame him, if only because I understood just how nerve-wracking the whole thing was, even if it was for different reasons.

“You okay?” I asked as I trotted over.

“Y-yeah… um, th-that went well, I think.”

“It did. Thank, you, Night Flurry.” I wrapped a wing around him, giving him a quick hug.

He froze, his cheeks lighting up like a Hearth’s Warming lamp. Perhaps I’d gone too far, riding on the day’s success—it wouldn’t be the first time I made someone uncomfortable with spontaneous hugs. But then again, it was the rare person who stuck his neck out this far for me. I didn’t want my friends to think I was taking them for granted. Regardless, I stepped back to give him some space.

A full minute went by before he finally spoke. “I-I, um, think I could use some air. M-maybe s-see the city. Would you l-like to come?”

I shook my head. Normally, that’s the kind of thing I would do, but it was starting to feel like I was holding his hoof. If he was really serious about seeing places, he would have to do some exploration without constantly looking to me. And really, Canterlot was about the easiest, safest place to start.

“This whole thing has left me exhausted,” I answered, a statement that was entirely too true. “I think I’m going to head back a little early.”

The question now, was whether Night Flurry changed his mind and decided to leave with me.

“O-oh… um… well, s-see y-you back at the S-Seapony?” he asked, much to my surprise.

“Sounds good.” I put on my best reassuring smile. “Well, go on, then. You don’t need me to guide you out of the restaurant, right?”

Night Flurry paused for a few seconds before he snapped to, practically scrambling for the door. “Um, r-right! S-see you!”

A smirk crept up my lips.

After waiting about a minute, I decided he had enough of a start to get out and over his indecision. It wouldn’t do for him to freeze outside, see me, then decide he’d rather go home. As least, I hoped that by the time I settled the bill, he’d be long gone.

The rest of my day looked simple, the kind where, even if I wasn’t truly liberated from the Cartel’s reach, I could at least spare some time to lounge and relax.

But as I stepped out into the hall, the voice of Noble Light called out to me, “Miss Mist, may I have another moment of your time?”

Perhaps things would not be so simple after all.

15 - Motives

I could already feel the tension creeping back into the tips of my hooves. A sigh tried to escape, but I held my lips fast. Turning to Noble Light’s voice, I met his gaze; it was as impassive as ever.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my face just as neutral.

As he motioned back toward the room, I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d waited. Whatever it was, I doubted it was anything that had been simply forgotten—he didn’t strike me as the type to let that kind of thing slip his mind.

My best guess was now that Night Flurry was gone, Noble Light wanted to talk to me about the complicated stuff. The question then, was whether he didn’t want Night Flurry interfering or wanted to spare him from getting caught up in some really ugly stuff.

With the room secured once more, I gave Noble Light an expectant look.

“Night Flurry. How is he?” he asked, the words stretching out just a little longer than they could have. I thought I even caught a hint of uncertainty in his eye.

The question stretched even more as it entered my mind and I searched for a hidden meaning. “He’s… good?”

He studied me for a moment. Whatever he was looking for, it wasn’t there and especially not in my answer. He bowed his head.

“Perhaps I should clarify: I am not looking to start a fight. I… We have been apart a long time, my son and I. I wish to reconnect with him.”

I nodded. So my gut instinct had been correct—at least partially. Whatever feud I’d imagined between the two seemed to be imaginary. But something didn’t quite sit right with me. “Then why did you pull me aside?”

Noble Light coughed, a hint of embarrassment passing across his face. “I am… uncertain of his circumstances. Both then and now. If he is not ready to see me, I fear it may do more harm than good.”

It was my turn to study him. The embarrassment was long gone by this point, his face returned to neutral. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel he was genuine. It was something about the way he’d asked. It was almost… pleading without pleading, if I were to try to put it into words. It was then that I realized his face didn’t quite have that usual stoniness. More than anything, he looked tired.

As I finally decided on giving Noble Light a bit of help, it occurred to me that I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I’d never been asked so directly to profile someone, nevermind a friend.

I chose my words very carefully, not wanting to misrepresent Night Flurry, but also to give the bare minimum. While I did believe Noble Light, I also believed that whatever he was looking for, it could only be found by talking to Night Flurry, himself.

“He’s naive, I guess would be the best way to put it. As in, he has a sort of idealized view of knights and heroes. But he has a kind heart, the sort that wants to help his friends however he can. He has a weather job, one that he puts his all into. I suppose you could say he’s normal enough.”

Noble Light looked relieved—almost happy.

“Thank you, Miss Mist. I will have to write him more.”

“Write?” I let a smirk creep up my lips. “What if I told you he was still here?”

“Is he now?” This time, the surprise filled his face, and while his voice sounded absent, I swore he was still looking right at me.

I arched an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

Noble Light shook his head, although it was more like he was clearing something from his mind than giving me an answer. “Don’t mind me, I think I’m just getting old.”

“Um… what?”

A bit of embarrassment returned to his face, scrunching his muzzle, before he relented. “It’s just that smirk... An old student of mine used to give me that look.”

I blinked, as a ripple of thought coursed through my mind, becoming a tidal wave. An old student… Oh, Celestia, he’s ‘Nobes’!

It was all so clear that I was ashamed of my obliviousness. While my mother had never called him anything but ‘Nobes’, it wasn’t all that far off from Noble Light. So this was the stallion she respected as a fighting peer.

A sense of budding familiarity spread over my mind, though it didn’t get far before I caught myself. Just because he might have been my mother’s mentor, didn’t mean I shouldn’t be cautious. While I allowed myself to feel more secure in trusting him with the Cartel information, I decided I should confirm with my mother first before getting all chummy with him.

“Um, okay…” I forced my face to remain neutral. “Anyway, he’s off seeing the city.”

Noble Light bowed his head again. I could almost see the plan formulating in his mind.

“That is all I need to know. Thank you, Miss Mist.” He turned to the door. “If there is ever anything you need, you know how to contact me.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

The flight home was liberating. I felt like I’d left all the weight of my circumstance behind me in Canterlot. While, in actuality, much of the burden lingered, the difference was still big enough to make me indulge in a few unnecessary maneuvers.

Despite that, I practically sailed across the downdrafts, and Ponyville was in sight a whole ten minutes earlier than expected. As I blew back into town, I flared out my wings, slowing myself just enough to drift lazily above the rooftops.

Deciding I wasn’t quite ready to land yet, I eyed the ponies below. The market was winding down with the sun; a small wave of shoppers trotted across the beaten snow, their saddlebags stuffed to the brim. Some of the stall owners even looked to be closing up early.

That’s when I spotted Terra, striding across the snow, glancing to her side every so often to make sure the pale purple filly was still there.

I squinted. Is that… Aster? Oh, Terra… So much for not cramping her style, huh?

Any prospect of enjoying a quiet back half of the day evaporated as curiosity took hold, dragging me down to the ground.

“Hey, Terra!” I called as I landed. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, hi, Dusky,” she replied, merely glancing at me before fixing her eyes back on Aster.

Aster looked up at the same time, giving me an expression that clearly said, ‘Save me.’

“I’m just taking this filly back to her father,” Terra continued. “She was playing hooky, saying she’s got some kind of gardening job. In the winter. Can you believe her?”

“But I do!” Aster protested.

My mind drifted back to Aster’s lonely sunflower. Is she seriously still on about that?

“Really?” I asked.

She nodded emphatically.

“Then what’s your boss’s name?”

“Mister Green Hoof!” Aster blurted out, though the look on her face told me she had second thoughts about giving up that information. Regardless, it surprised me. I’d thought she’d be unable to come up with a serious answer.

“Young filly, don’t lie.”

“But I’m not—”

“Green Hoof is a professional, which means he doesn’t need help to do his job. But even if he did need help, he’s not the boss,” Terra said, her voice firmer than usual. “There is no reason for him to ‘hire’ you.”

Sheesh, no wonder Mahogany called her a ‘matron’.

“Um, Terra, don’t you think you’re overstepping a bit here?”

“Hardly. School is one of the most important things in a filly’s life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I thought back to my parents, and how they’d gone through pains to ensure I had a stable school life here in Ponyville—even though their jobs demanded they be on the road. So, while true, Terra had also completely missed my point. I tried to think of a way of getting the hint across without cluing Aster into Terra’s issues.

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. Like, don’t you think you’re… ‘cramping her style’ a bit?”

Aster stared up at me, like she couldn’t believe I’d just said that. To be fair, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that.

Freezing mid-step, Terra’s eyes glazed over for a split second. But when they snapped to, they were hard and determined. She let out a cough. “Perhaps, but some things just have to be done. Now, enough talk. Stalwart will be home soon and we have much to discuss about a certain filly’s punishment.”

I sighed. It was clear that I had about as much chance of stopping her quest for mothering as I did her matchmaking. “Right. Let me know how that turns out for you.”

---

Because I clearly hadn’t done enough sleuthing in the last couple weeks, I checked in with Green Hoof. After a bit of prodding, he admitted he felt sorry enough for Aster to slip her a few bits. Turns out she took this as an indication of employment.

I relayed the information to Terra, who was less-than-amused. She seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into this crusade and it was really starting to worry me. Perhaps there was even more to this spell than what I’d concluded at her house.

After a couple days of fruitless research through arcane tomes that I only half-understood, I decided it was time to go back to the source. I would find Starshadow and make her explain the spell to me, line-by-line, then I would cross-check it with Twilight Sparkle. With any luck, the whole thing would be dealt with by the end of the week.

The sun had barely set when I nosed my way into the bar. I wanted to make sure Terra was mostly sober, just in case I had to get her involved.

The bar was quiet, with only the most hardcore of drinkers at their seats. Oddly enough, this didn’t include Mahogany or Terra. Or even Merriweather—in a technical sense. That our table was completely devoid of glasses bordered on eerie.

Instead, she and Night Flurry stood beside the table, chatting about something I wasn’t quite sure about.

As I approached the table, I allowed myself a frown, disappointed that Starshadow was not with her sister.

“W-wait, there was a payroll?” Night Flurry shrunk down.

“Of course! All the—oh, hi, Dusky~!” Merriweather spun to face me.

“Hi, Merriweather, Night Flurry.” I quirked an eyebrow. “What’s this about payrolls?”

“W-well…” Night Flurry began.

“Oh, just the Knighthood that Sis’ is dismissing Night from.” Merriweather waved her hoof.

“I… what? Knighthood?” I peered over at Night Flurry. He looked like he was about to burrow into the floor.

“What?” Merriweather looked between us. “Was that supposed to be a secret or something~?”

I glanced at Night Flurry. “I don’t know. Was it?”

After seeing him with his father, I had a pretty good idea what this whole thing was all about. It was for that same reason that I couldn’t be particularly annoyed. If anything, I just felt sorry for him.

“I… I-I…” Night Flurry looked at the door.

Slipping over to him before he did anything stupid, I placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Hey. Whatever it is, if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

“O-okay. I, um, w-well…” He looked around self-consciously.

I gave him a quick nudge and motioned to the back rooms. Without a word, he started down the hall. I turned to Merriweather, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, go on without me. I’ma see how Sis’ is doing with the paperwork.” She grinned widely, as she headed for the stairs. “You two have fun~.”

“Uh, huh.” I rolled my eyes.

As we settled into one of the booths, I couldn’t help but note that even though the Cartel stuff was out of my hooves, I had still found my way into yet another secret conversation in a private room.

Night Flurry was looking everywhere, except for me.

“So…” I tilted my head.

Night Flurry snapped to, looking at me for a split second before his eyes fell onto the table. “S-sorry... I, um... asked Merri to train me a-and... well, one thing led to another and suddenly... I was a kn-knight under S-Starshadow.”

I blinked. “That’s… quite the leap. But since it’s Merriweather, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

With a cringe, he dug into his flight satchel. He came up with a gold hoof bracer, which he gingerly set upon the table. I’d seen the things around every so often. Anypony wearing it could channel a bit of their innate magic to activate it and summon a blade. They weren’t particularly popular because the style required to use it is difficult for many ponies to learn, nevermind master. It was ornately engraved, no doubt with some sort of traditional Ostfriesen carving. However, the most interesting part was just how old the thing looked. That gold had clearly seen better days.

I gave him an expectant look.

“Merri gave it to me,” Night Flurry said. “I... I thought m-maybe if I learned how to use it, I c-could stop being s-such a burden. I just w-want to protect my friends. B-but it was all too much... I.. I'm no knight...”

He was trying, that much was certain. I knew, as much as anyone else, that everyone always wished they could do more.

Putting on my best reassuring smile, I waited for him to look up again before saying, “I understand.”

“Y-you do?” He perked up ever-so-slightly.

“When I asked you to make that promise, I wasn’t asking you to foreswear fighting. I just didn’t want to you to do anything overly risky. But if you just want to be prepared, I have no objections.”

Night Flurry paused, chewing on invisible hay for the next few seconds. At last, he gave me his own sheepish smile.

“Th-thanks, D-Dusky.”

I nodded. “Just don’t get carried away. Preparation doesn’t mean much if you hurt yourself doing it.”

His eyes fell back on the bracer. I think he mouthed something at it, but I didn’t catch what. Regardless, when his gaze returned to mine, he looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“R-right. I… I’m going to keep trying. But… I won’t lose myself to it. P-promise.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” I smirked. “Shall we head back? Maybe we can catch Mahogany and Terra before they’re completely plastered.”

He smiled as he nodded. “Y-yeah, let’s hope so.”

16 - Perceptions

I was starting to think that if Barkeep ever stopped letting me have the back room for free, I would have to adjust my budget. Thankfully, that day was not today.

Good thing too, as I had other concerns on my mind, such as just how well a heart-to-heart with Starshadow would go. Sure, sometimes the others were so wasted or otherwise incapacitated that we might as well have been talking by ourselves, but going into a separate room always changed the tone of things.

Starshadow waited patiently by the farthest booth, an expression that said “business” written across her face. The question was whether or not she knew just what kind of business I was going to bring up.

I shut the door and trotted over. She waited until I was seated before speaking.

“Am I correct in presuming that you wish to discuss Night Flurry’s knighthood?”

“That’s one of the things. But since we’re on the topic, let’s start with that.”

“Very well. Has he informed you that he is no longer a knight?”

“He has. But that’s not the entirety of my concern.”

“The fact that he was even a knight to begin with?”

“Yes, that would be it.” I watched Starshadow carefully. If she was following my line of thought, there was no way she could have been ignorant to Night Flurry’s disposition. My gaze fell upon the exotic scales of Starshadow’s armour. “Why? I doubt many trained Equestrians could hold up to Ostfriesen standards of combat. You can’t possibly have believed Night Flurry fit for your ranks.”

“It is true. I had my reservations, even after Sister told me he had passed the trials.”

“Trials?” My imagination slipped back to the books of my foalhood, to Daring Do and how she had to fight her way through endless rooms of death traps for each and every artifact she recovered. To the story of Grand Trek and her ten-year struggle to return to her home and family. Or to the Twelve Tasks of Titan, challenges so difficult that even a nigh-unstoppable alicorn nearly lost his life several times. I caught myself before my mind could run away with me, in part because the stories weren’t quite exact parallels. Still, I couldn’t help but cringe.

“Yes. It is up to the recruiter to assess an applicant’s abilities. This includes, but is not limited to, cunning, martial prowess and physical fitness. Usually this involves pitting the applicant directly against the recruiter, who is, of course, not fighting her hardest. The details vary from house to house, but the bottom line is that they determine whether the applicant can survive our training.”

I cocked an eyebrow. Unless I was missing something, Starshadow wasn’t making much sense. “Okay, but that just makes it even more questionable how he got in.”

“To put it bluntly, Merriweather lied. When I found out, we had many words. In the end, we determined that it was not the knighthood itself, but the training, that he wanted. While his heart was in the right place, he had clearly chosen the wrong path.”

At this point, I think my brow was somewhere up inside my forelock. “So, what? Your solution was to just let him continue until he crashed?”

“It was a conclusion he needed to come to on his own. Sister was of the opinion that should we push back too hard, he would give up entirely.” Her voice wavered a little, but she didn’t break eye contact. “After much thought, I had to agree. As much as I disliked deceiving my friend, our best option was to go along with it.”

A frown crept across my lips. “I think I see where you’re coming from, but do you really believe him so fragile as to merit stringing him along like that?”

“In retrospect, no. However, our assessment did not have the same benefit of closeness that you two share.”

I blinked, the heat of annoyance spreading across my cheeks. “I’m sorry, are you trying to imply something?”

Starshadow stared at me a moment, eyes widening with realization. She shook the surprise from her face as she replied, “No, no. My intent was not to suggest romance. Consider that, aside from Mahogany, you are the one he is most comfortable around, the one he tends to talk to.”

It was a bit strange to think of it that way. I mean, with all his hesitating and stammering, ‘comfortable’ was the last word I’d have used. And yet, he’d confided in me many times, even revisiting a past that had clearly left its mark on him. It all seemed completely contradictory, but at the same time, it was a very Night Flurry approach to things. Perhaps Starshadow was right.

“I suppose that makes sense, but it still doesn’t excuse what happened.”

“Of course not. That is why we apologized to him.” Starshadow gave me a solemn, sincere look. It was the kind of disciplined determination I’d occasionally seen from my mother and—more often—in the mirror.

“All right. I guess we can move on to the next topic, then.”

“Which would be?”

“Terrabona.”

Starshadow’s ears drooped just a little as she looked away. “Is she unwell?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Are you sure all the spell’s effects are accounted for?”

“Yes. It is a simple, if powerful, spell. What is her issue?”

“Aggressive mothering.”

It was Starshadow’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I do not follow.”

“She won’t leave this one filly, Aster, alone.”

“You are sure she was not like this before?”

“Absolutely. She never showed as much as a hint before the spell. Up until then, she was all about the matchmaking. Not to mention she’s clearly aware she shouldn’t be hanging off of a stranger’s foal like that. Then I come back to find she’s latched back onto Aster and even reminding her of our previous conversation wouldn’t break her out of her mothering trance.”

“Hmmm, that is most odd. There is nothing in the spell that should do that. However, I admit that since my assumptions have always been based on an invalid sample pool, I did not properly consider the psychological side effects. Is it possible she is compensating for her inability to engage in this matchmaking?”

“Maybe?” I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m really qualified to make a judgment one way or the other.”

“That is unfortunate. Without further assessment, I do not believe I can come up with a proper magical solution.”

“Understandable. That’s why I’d like to ask you a favour.”

“I shall do whatever I can.”

“Could you write the spell down for me? I’d like to have a friend crosscheck it, just to be certain.”

“Very well. Give me a moment.”

---

Starshadow’s spell checked out. According to Twilight, it did exactly as advertised and nothing more. Which meant that Terra’s libido was such an intrinsic part of her personality that removing it practically made her another person. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the prospect of her behaviour being overwritten by magic.

The thoughts weighed heavily on me throughout the entirety of my afternoon shift. Thankfully, Winter Wrap Up had just happened, so I could afford to be a bit distracted when it came to the less intense rain clouds. By the end, I could only come to a single conclusion: I never thought I’d see the day when I missed her meddling.

I’d just clocked out when Mahogany strolled in. Which was strange—not because he was here, but because he wasn’t lugging a half-dozen parcels through the doorway. He made a beeline for me.

I tilted my head. “Hi, Mahogany. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Dusky. Some guardspony is outside looking for you.”

I smirked. Just like Blaze to get bored waiting at the Seapony.

“Orange unicorn mare with a red mane?”

Mahogany shook his head. “Nah, he’s a he and he’s brown.”

The smirk faded from my lips. “Strange. Did he say what it was all about?”

“Something or other about private business.”

My heart sank. Is Noble Light already breaking his promise? Am I never to be free of this? Or something else?

A nagging little detail, in the shape of an ID badge, drifted in from the back of my mind. The downside of a totally anonymous submission was that it did nothing to protect me if the incident itself led them to me. My first instinct was to go out the back door.

Calm down. There’s no need to jump to conclusions, I told myself, preemptively shutting down my imagination. He could just be looking for witnesses. And if worst came to worst, I could discreetly drop Noble’s name. For the moment, I needed more information and if I knew one thing for certain: avoiding him would only cast suspicion on me.

“Hey, Dusky, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking. Let’s go meet this guy.”

---

It didn’t take long for us to find the guardspony, even in the crowded town square. He was a chestnut unicorn, clad in full Guard armour, which stuck out like a sore hoof amongst the Ponyville populace.

“Here you go, officer. Found her!” Mahogany called out as we approached.

The guardspony turned his head, his soft orange eyes catching and holding mine. There was a certain warmth to them, an inherent feeling of safety.

“Dusky Down?” His question broke my reverie.

I nodded. If he already knew my real name, I needed to get whatever this was addressed as quickly as possible. “And you are?”

He stood at attention. “Sergeant Light Horn, Equestrian National Investigation, ma’am.”

“And what can I do for you?”

“We believe you have information regarding a certain incident in Hoofington.”

Mahogany looked straight at me, the doubt in his eyes asking, ‘What now?’

To his credit, those were the extent of his tells, but there was little chance Light Horn didn’t pick up on it. Still, I decided it was preferable to make him work for it, so I could get a better read on him.

“And what makes you think that?”

“We have reason to believe you were in Hoofington, entering a certain warehouse on the night of the incident.”

“And?” I raised an eyebrow.

“And we believe you have a story to tell.” He was confident, I’ll give him that. Perhaps he was used to charming everyone into cooperation, but it would take more than a friendly face to persuade me.

“What if I have nothing to say?”

Light Horn’s expression hardened ever-so-slightly. “I would wonder why an innocent pony would refuse to give her account.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mahogany open his mouth, a wise crack most likely on the tip of his tongue. But when I caught his eye, his jaw snapped shut.

“Are you trying to imply something?” I met Light Horn’s stare with my own.

“I’m saying you’re walking a fine line between witness and suspect.” He turned a forehoof up. “I can’t help you if you say nothing.”

At this point, I definitely had to satisfy him enough to make him go away. It wouldn’t do to have an open trail leading back to Ponyville.

“I suppose I have no choice, then.”

“Sorry.” The hardness evaporated from Light Horn’s face. “We’ve got a private room at the inn, so if you’ll follow me, I’ll try to make this as fast as possible.”

“No.” I shook my head. One agent was already one too many to deal with. The last thing I wanted was to end up in an interrogation room with several of them.

“What?” This time, surprise spread across his face. I suppose he didn’t expect me to have conditions.

“We do it on my terms. I want to use a place where I feel safe.” Where that was, I didn’t quite know. Just that it wasn’t the Seapony. I needed somewhere disposable. Then it came to me. There was an old warehouse, behind the one the weather office owned, that no one ever used.

He paused, looking for just a moment like he was thinking about arguing. “As you wish. Lead the way.”

I turned to Mahogany. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

----

We were barely three streets from the town square and it was already strangely empty. I supposed that traffic in this area was never that high to begin with, but it still felt a little odd. On the upside, it would make being alone with Light Horn easier.

A breeze drifted through, picking up some of the loose dirt. I tucked my muzzle into my scarf as the grains pelted my coat. Once the wind had died down, I shook myself out, the dirt making tiny crackles as they bounced off the nearby wall.

Light Horn coughed under his helmet, its golden paint highlighted by the descending sun. I supposed it wouldn’t do much to protect against errant grit. Still, he didn’t break pace as he marched onward, his barding bobbing in rhythm to his steps.

We’d said little since we’d parted from Mahogany, which wasn’t particularly surprising. The business ahead of us wasn’t exactly mirth-inspiring.

Perhaps after this discussion was done, regardless of whether I needed to play the Noble Light card or not, I’d have to contact him and see if he could do anything to preempt any more unwelcome visits.

I couldn’t help but wonder who had seen me enter that warehouse, since I’d been wearing my cloak. Perhaps it wasn’t even a ‘who’, but a ‘what’. My entry would have been logged and if someone had been persistent enough, as well as found my lost ID, they might have been able to piece something together. I cursed my carelessness.

As I thought more on it, I came to realize that it wasn’t the accusations that bothered me. It was a nagging feeling in my mind, insistently pulling my attention away again and again. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. The best I could come up with was that Light Hoof was just a bit too charismatic. Which wasn’t a big deal, really—I’d just have to be more careful during our discussion, that’s all.

And yet… my mind wouldn’t let it be.

My ear twitched, picking up the faint crunching of gravel behind me. I tilted my head a little, glancing out of the corner of my eye. Two shadows.

I felt a little colder.

Are we being followed or am I just being paranoid?

The road was coming to an end, its wings diverging and forming a T-intersection. Light Horn turned back to me, an expectant expression on his face.

Time to find out.

“Left,” I said, keeping an eye on him. He nodded, but said nothing else.

Bit by bit, despite the weather being spring, the cold was taking hold.

We were among the warehouses now. They weren’t anything huge, not like Hoofington. A smaller city like Ponyville benefitted much more from quantity over size. That is, more businesses could find affordable storage, which leveled the playing field for local owners.

And so, as we traversed the street, a mix of large, ascending wooden and steel doors loomed over us, almost comically, as they took up the majority of the face of each squat, square building. While the odd one out did have a second story, the proportions still didn’t do them many favours.

The two shadows rounded the corner and I caught a glimpse of them. Earth pony stallions, both clad in Royal Guard armour. That settled it.

The question, then, was why two guards were skulking around behind me like a couple of muggers. The easy answer was, of course, that they wanted to keep their agent safe. Some part of me really wanted to believe that, but the more I thought about it, it just didn’t sit right with me; if they’d really found me that threatening, they would have just arrested me. No, there was something off about them, almost sinister.

As I continued to watch, I realized it was their gait. Unlike Light Horn, these guys were awkward and weighed down by their armour. While I didn’t know a whole lot about the Guard, I had a sneaking suspicion even cadets wouldn’t come out of training looking like that.

So those two were obviously imposters, but I still didn’t know if Light Horn was friend or foe. I really, truly wanted to believe the former. Even just looking at him, I felt safe from the advancing thugs. But another, nagging part of me, told me I couldn’t risk it; I couldn’t trust anyone I didn’t know.

I glanced up. The clouds just ahead were denser, forming something that resembled a forest canopy. It would certainly explain why the air was a bit cooler here. I mulled it over. If I could get into the air, they’d never catch me. The clouds would be perfect for hiding a pegasus like me. Or pegasi waiting to ambush me.

I cringed inwardly. Suddenly, the expanse of cloud was quite daunting; there was no telling how many pegasi were up there. I could run. But evading two earth ponies by running straight at them was a poor gamble. And there was no telling what kind of magic the unicorn could do. My imagination immediately set itself to work on that one.

Fighting wasn’t an option, either. I just wasn’t going to win a three-on-one. Even if I could get my wingblade out in time, they were armoured, to say nothing of whatever weapons they may have brought.

I could delay, but eventually they’d catch on that I’d caught on and I’d lose what little advantage I had.

We passed under the clouds and something strange happened. Light Horn’s helmet continued to glow. It was faint, just the barest of golds, but it was an all-encompassing light that clearly shouldn’t have been there. As the realization hit me, I finally understood where the warmth was coming from.

Magic. I shivered.

This whole thing had been a trap and somehow, I’d walked right into it. With all the obvious avenues cut off, the warehouses were my best bet. If I got in among the maze of alleyways, perhaps I could lose them.

“Right, coming up,” I said, motioning my head toward the intersection.

Light Horn nodded again.

I waited until we’d passed the second-last alley before the corner. My eyes fell back to the earth ponies one last time. They were still quite a few paces behind. Even if they reacted immediately, I’d still have some time.

Three... two... one!

I turned and bolted, doubling back and into the alley. A flurry of hoofbeats filled the air around me.

The farther away I got, the colder—and better—I felt. It was like a fog lifting from my mind, one thin layer at a time.

I rounded a corner and screeched to a halt, just shy of ramming my muzzle into a wall. It was a dead end, one with a scuffed-up wooden door, but still. I glanced up. No, it was too soon to evade their aerial sentries. I’d only reveal myself prematurely.

“Get her!” someone shouted, pulling my eyes behind me. Two shadows were barreling down the alley, maybe ten seconds away.

With a deep breath, I pivoted, slamming my hind legs into the door with all my might, hoping against all odds that it would open.

With a feeble crack, it gave way so easily that I almost fell over. A deafening crunch echoed down the alley as the door slammed into the inner warehouse wall.

Great, now the whole block knows where I am.

I really couldn’t complain, though. Slipping into the open door, I glanced around. There were crates stacked anywhere and everywhere, with no obvious logical pattern to their placement.

Swinging round, I rammed my side against the door, smashing it into the door jam. The lock dislodged itself, clattering to the floor, which was no matter, really; if it couldn’t even hold against me, it wouldn’t do anything to stop a group of angry thugs.

There was, however, a tower of crates just to the side of the door. Without thinking, I circled around and threw my whole body, chest first, at them. The base barely moved, but the top half was only happy to oblige. They toppled right over with a thunderous crash, the lid exploding in a shower of dusty books.

Not a moment later, something hit the door from the other side, followed by a long string of expletives.

I spun around, searching for a sign of any other exit. There was no way those crates would hold them for long, and I needed to get out before I was surrounded.

The old floorboards protested as I dashed around the perimeter of the far wall. The only other entrance was the heavy main door—not exactly a good gamble. Of course, even if I’d been willing to try, the pulley lay in a tangled wreck on the floor, taunting me.

My eyes darted around, looking for something, anything. As luck would have it, I’d chosen a two-story warehouse. A staircase ran along the wall to my right, doubling up on itself before reaching the loft.

I galloped as hard as I could, reaching the top in a time that would make Rainbow Dash proud. As I cleared the final step, I dug my muzzle into my scarf, pulling my wingblade from its sheathe.

While I attached the blade to my wing, I glanced around, hoping for some sort of balcony door. But the second floor was only an isolated half-loft, crammed full of crates and sacks. A lonely railing ran the edge of the loft, from the wall to the stairwell, where it merged with the stairwell’s. At least I had a decent view of the floor below.

A final crack drew my eyes below, where splinters spewed across the floor. A couple more cracks and the rest of the door came down in larger chunks.

“Moooooonlit.” Light Horn’s voice wafted up.

The two earth ponies and a pegasus mare tromped into the main area. The pegasus stopped in the centre of the room while the others started plowing through the mess of crates.

“Or perhaps you prefer Indigo? Or maybe Dusky, hmmm? Tsk. You sure like your false identities, don’t you, you naughty girl?” Light Horn wagged a forehoof. “There’s no escape, you know. Come quietly so we don’t have to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

I glanced around, guessing they would be smarter than to leave the door unguarded. The upper floor had little to offer. What few windows it had were far too small.

My eyes returned to the stairwell and the larger, circular window sitting high above the mid-level. There.

If I tucked my wings, I might just be able to fit. But first I needed to deal with that glass.

Creak, the stairs groaned. They were coming. I stood stock still, unwilling to give away my position.

That’s when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, a lonely little sandbag, about half the size of the other sacks. I crept over, taking it in my teeth.

I could hear the careful, muted steps. Surely, they were at least halfway up by now. This meant I had one chance and one chance only.

Steady...

I spun with all my might, releasing the bag at just the right time. A helmeted head poked itself halfway above the stairs, falling back out of sight with a yelp as the bag whizzed by.

I rushed forward, the sound of shattering glass bringing the barest smile to my lips.

He never saw it coming, my firm buck sending the earth pony guard tumbling down the stairs. The second earth pony, who was making his way up the mid-level, leapt over him, just narrowly avoiding being bowled over.

The second earth pony charged straight up the remaining stairs. I held my ground. If I could keep him there, he’d be at a severe disadvantage.

He swung wildly, his long forehooves smashing into the floor, but a quick backstep put me out of reach. I countered with a quick forehoof swipe of my own, catching him in the side of the jaw. Somewhat predictably, he kept pressing forward.

I backed up some more, letting him waste his energy as I waited for an opening. When he tossed his head, I knew it was time. I dashed in, slamming my full weight into his neck before pushing away, taking a swipe with my blade as I went. I scowled. It wasn’t a total miss, but the blood trickling from his neck was little more than a flesh wound.

He came at me like a crazed Ursa and this time, he was able to push clear of the stairs.

However, I wasn’t about to let him have it for free. I circled right, giving myself the majority of the floor to work with. Ducking under a particularly vicious swipe, I brought my head up. I felt something give as he stumbled away.

One, two. And buck!

He crashed into the railing—then straight through it. He toppled over the edge with a scream. The whole warehouse seemed to shake as he impacted the first floor.

I cringed, almost tempted to look, but there was no time. Plus there could only be one outcome from a spill like that.

Instead, I put my energy toward shoving everything that was near the stairs straight down it. Crates, sacks and their contents tumbled over the edge, followed by much shouting and cursing. Then silence.

I stole a peek down the stairs. Only a couple hooves protruded from the mess of books, splinters and papers. A particularly large sack sat right on top of his muzzle.

Two down. Who knows how many to go...

There was a thunk behind me. I knew it had to be the pegasus. I knew I was in trouble. Spinning wildly, I swiped blindly with my wingblade. It fell completely short, but at least it gave me some space to work with.

A glint of light caught my eye. She was using a wingblade too. Not only that, but she was larger than me.

Her counterattack came quickly, a precise thrust that I barely parried.

Stepping to the left, I brought my wing across again, this time cleaving top to bottom. But this one was quicker and less about brute force.

She backed away before coming for a quick horizontal cut. I ducked just in time, or so I thought. A sticky warmness trickled down my left cheek. But it was shallow, a nick that I barely felt.

With a grimace, it was my turn to press forward. Even if Light Horn was watching the door, he was a unicorn. He was undoubtedly searching for a good angle to snipe me from with some spell or another.

I feinted left before slashing upward. The pegasus pulled her head away. I knew she would, as it had become clear she was watching my blade very carefully. Thing is, it’s pretty easy to get fixated on the weapon to the exclusion of everything else. And that’s just what I was banking on.

Leaping forward, I smashed my forehead dead into the centre of her muzzle. With a screech, she stumbled back, but not before I felt something dig into my side.

This time the cut burned like fire, searing the nerves and muscle just behind my foreleg. I knew it wasn’t that deep, at least not with that much pain, but there was already an undeniable stickiness creeping down my leg.

Stupid...

I was out of time. It was do or die.

Taking one more swipe as I spun, I didn’t bother to check if I’d connected. All my focus was on my gallop as I limped my way toward the top of the stairs.

Ahead of me, the window was like a shark’s maw, its jagged fragments just waiting to taste flesh. Doubt filled my mind. I wasn’t going to make it. Apprehension became energy, a surge of strength rising with my nerves.

Somehow, I had just enough speed for my feeble leap to get just above the window. I spread my wings for just a moment, keeping myself as on-target as I could.

And… tuck!

I bowed my head and closed my eyes as I barreled through. Something brushed against my back.

However, I was clear and for just a moment, I didn’t care. But just a moment. As I spread my wings again, my back felt like I’d just shoved it into an oven. I wavered, tears clouding my eyes and I struggled to keep myself from plummeting.

I needed help and fast. A single image filled my mind, overriding every other thought: the Seapony.

Flapping with all my might, I pushed onward, even as every motion jarred my body to new heights of pain.

The beating of a second set of wings reached my ears. My eyes followed. It wasn’t the pegasus from before. It was someone fresh and he was closing in fast.

No! It can’t end here!

I pushed harder, somehow finding just a little more strength. Yet still it was not enough.

The pain cut right through me as I whirled and I dropped a couple feet. My opponent tried to correct course, but the angle was all off. We collided, a tangle of flailing hooves in the air.

Desperately, I slashed at the blurry silhouette that was my opponent. I thought I felt something spray onto me. More stickiness. I couldn’t even tell if it was mine anymore.

I had to dislodge, get away. The ground would be coming soon. But as I kicked off, it was too late. I think I lost consciousness.

Then we were rolling and skidding. At some point, I ended up on top of him.

I think there was a wall. He hit first. I blacked out again. Then I was in the dirt somewhere. I couldn’t see. But I had to get up. I had to get to the Seapony. My legs just wouldn’t work.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Each time, my muscles giving out sooner than the last.

I groaned. There were many voices. Many hoofsteps. Friend or foe, I couldn’t tell. I had to get away, just in case. If only my body would cooperate.

“...usky... … … stay still!”

Night Flurry?

I’d made it. I couldn’t believe it. I forced my eyes open. There was a face and it was vaguely blue. I was safe, at last.

“Too many...” I mumbled. Wasted words.

Night Flurry was moving his lips, clearly talking, but nothing was coming out. I tried to shift my ears, but they wouldn’t listen.

Something was lifting me.

“...be fine ...y, ... get you … ... clinic...” Night Flurry suddenly become audible again.

The clinic. Even in my condition, I knew it was bad. I had to tell him.

“What? Clinic? No... they'll... they'll find...”

My voice was gone. I didn’t have anything left. Not even enough to feel pain.

I thought I saw blots of light, racing above me. Then Night Flurry again. More silent words. I was moving again. There was a blinding flash.

And then everything became nothing.

17 - Edges

Time is already a strange, mercurial thing. And in that moment, when I stood on the border between two worlds, it had lost any last semblance of definition. I faded in and out of existence for what felt like months, a measure something in my body insisted, with absolute conviction, was so very wrong. Vague murmurs drifted beside me. I tried to swivel my ears toward them, but every inch was like trudging through a lake of mud. There were no words—just voices. Night Flurry, then Twilight Sparkle. Back to Night Flurry. Twilight again.

My eyes refused to open. Someone had glued them shut.

The rest of my body didn’t fare much better. Even with every muscle combining in one colossal effort, the best I could manage was twitching my legs.

Exhaustion overtook me and I slipped away.

Time had no place where I went. For all I knew, it could have been years since I’d last been awake. But at least this time, my eyes worked, for certain definitions of ‘work’, anyway.

A purple blob, with a mass of blue and magenta near its top, loomed over me. I blinked a few times and it started to actually look like Twilight. She was staring off to the side, the soft glow of a candle playing across her face. Between the furrowed brow and rustling pages, it wasn’t too hard to guess that she was, unsurprisingly, reading a book of some kind. I briefly wondered if the title was What to Do if Some Thugs Leave Your Friend Half-Dead in the Middle of the Street. It wouldn’t be the first time she pulled out an overly specific guide, anyway.

The rest of the room was dark, with vague patches of brown marking the location of the walls—and their inset shelves. Judging by the proximity, we were probably in one of the small back rooms of the library.

My whole body was both raw and numb at the same time. Like I hurt in so many places that my body just stopped feeling. Everything about it was just wrong.

I opened my mouth. While I could hardly feel it, there was so much resistance in the muscles that there must not have been a single drop of saliva in there. My breath escaped in alien, uneven stutters.

“Oh! Dusky!” Twilight furrowed her brow. “You’re not supposed to be awake.”

I stared blankly, trying to raise my own eyebrow. While it did make sense that I should be getting bedrest, the way she worded it threw me off. Whether I succeeded or not, she got the idea.

“You’re wondering why, aren’t you?”

Nodding was not happening; my neck felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Thankfully, the question was rhetorical. She smiled weakly.

“Healing spells make their recipient exhausted. This is because it accelerates the natural process, which comes with an extra energy cost. If the magic was working properly, then you’d still be out for the next couple days.”

Twilight tapped her book as she let out a nervous laugh. “I guess it’s a good thing Magical Aid: A Comprehensive Guide wasn’t checked out. Since, y’know, I’m not a doctor or anything.”

By this point, I’d given up on making my mouth work. I wanted to smirk, but it was just too lazy.

A glass pitcher, about half-full with water, levitated over Twilight’s shoulder. Its lip settled against mine, the delicious liquid measuredly trickling across my tongue. With each drop, I felt like a sponge, dried and immobile, slowly reassuming my real shape.

Suddenly, the pitcher was empty. It was like I’d totally lost myself for a few seconds there. After a brief bout with panic, I realized that that must be what Twilight was talking about when it came to her healing spell. It was just very disconcerting to think that I’d blanked out so hard while my body continued doing its own thing.

“Why didn’t you want to go to the clinic? They could give you much better treatment there.”

My eyes flitted to the side. I didn’t know where I could even begin without having to tell her everything.

“It’s okay. Everypony has their secrets. Celestia knows I’ve got more than enough and you still trust me. So, whatever it is, don’t worry. I trust you.”

I think I actually managed to smile that time.

There were still details I wondered about. About the blizzard. About when Twilight had not been herself. And some I did know that lingered in the back of my head. But we were of like mind, so I knew her reasons were sound.

“Oh! Night Flurry told me to give you a message.” She paused, staring up at her forelock for a few moments before continuing. “Sorry. I thought for sure he’d get back before I had to tell you this. He’s meeting with a Captain Noble Light. Something about finding a safehouse for you. So whatever it is you’re scared of, try not to worry about it for now. You’ve got ponies watching your back.”

Noble Light’s involvement brought me mixed feelings. My assessment from the other day was still firmly cemented in my mind. I wanted to trust him. But even in my haze, I realized that, while the Cartel might have stolen the onsite logs, someone still had to have leaked the information that linked the badge to me, leading them here.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t Twilight’s fault that everything was such a mess, so I did my best to look thankful. The strain sent me into a light coughing fit. At least I could feel my throat again.

Twilight gave me a sympathetic look. “I wish you’d stop resisting the spell. It would make this all so much smoother. But I guess it’s not like you can tell your body to stop doing the things it does. Not that it wouldn’t be nice. I mean, if we could just up and do that, then maybe I wouldn’t have so many ponies coming in asking about contraception spells.”

I let out a weak, pathetic giggle, the kind that would make Pinkie Pie sad.

“Sounds like you could use more water. I’ll be right back.”

I listened to the tapping of her hooves as she left the room. As the steps began to fade down the hall, so did my consciousness. That was the last I would see of the library for some time.

---

The darkness was welcome, all pain and rawness lost within its depths. And yet, it felt so very wrong. In that void, where I was half-aware, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like being on a stage where, not only was the backdrop gone, but so was the stage itself.

I laid on the ground and listened, trying to get a feel for this lonely, empty world. But it didn’t feel like anything; I might as well have been floating. But there was something fundamentally wrong about that too. Not a single sound reached my ears—not even the subtle whisper of the wind.

The silence was deafening. With each moment, the numbness became less and less comforting. My eyes ventured off into the darkness, but they too became lost.

Instinctively, I curled up. I had to rest. I couldn’t remember why, just that I did. Besides, it’s not like there was anything to do, anyway.

The not-world eventually faded away. Or at least, I thought it did. Perhaps it was just myself fading from the not-world. It’s a bit difficult to judge when my own body was my only reference point.

Time seemed to fade away, as well. I think I was sleeping. Mostly, anyway; some speck always felt oddly aware.

I thought I heard Night Flurry’s voice, the sound washing in and out, like waves on a beach. “...spring... brought… … memories, Dusky...”

Spring memories? Why spring? Eyebrow raised, I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

I was in the bar again.

Not that they’d even noticed. Given Merriweather’s drunken, off-target attempts to hug Starshadow, and the latter’s corresponding annoyance, it was hardly surprising.

Meanwhile, Terra and Mahogany’s eyes were locked. Each had a glass to their lips, the liquid steadily draining. Mahogany’s was tilted just a little higher.

Typical.

Night Flurry turned and mumbled something.

“What?” I cocked my head.

He mumbled again.

A frown formed on my lips and I shook my head. “Speak up.”

We were in the back room. He was sitting across from me.

“Guess you didn't hear, did you?”

“No. No, I didn’t,” I replied.

Strangely, Night Flurry didn’t seem to react. I mean, I continued talking, but it felt like he was looking at me without looking at me.

“M-my real name...” He continued to stare, lost in himself.

I tensed, my mind suddenly active enough to nag. Fake names don’t just hide another name. They hide another person. Would he confess to being a Cartel spy? Or perhaps one of Prideful Policy’s?

“I was Night Light,” he finally said, chuckling afterward. “It sounds funny saying it now. Mom told me… a night light was a little magical light you keep in your bedroom to keep away all the monsters.”

The name wasn’t surprising; it just fit so well and, given his father’s name, I probably could have guessed. What was surprising, though, was how much he was opening up. I couldn’t remember when or why this level of confiding had come to be, but I was too interested to care. With a nod, I continued to watch him.

“I told her that’s silly. A real hero isn’t afraid of monsters.” He gave me a sheepish look. “I… I was ashamed of my name. When I moved out to Ponyville, I changed it, to match my cutie mark.”

Again with the heroes. While it’s the type of the thing foals tend to latch onto—Celestia knows I did—something about it felt even more ingrained than usual with Night Flurry. It was no wonder his sense of reality had been so skewed.

Night Flurry stared off into space. “I… thought ponies like Merri and Star and… like you… you wouldn’t have any need for something as silly as a night light. Y-you weren’t afraid of anything. But… there are monsters in the world… who make even the bravest ponies tremble...”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m no hero. Nor even a fearless mare. I do what I can to protect those I who are close to me.”

“I’m Night Flurry now. I’ve grown to like the name, but… for however long you need, I… I can be Night Light for you.”

I smirked. It was cheesy, but somehow fitting. I decided I’d let him have his moment.

---

“...starting to think of trains as bad omens…” Night Flurry’s voice drifted in again.

The steady click-clack of train wheels filled my ears, each bump helping me shake off a bit of grogginess. Eventually, I got my eyes open, but they refused to go beyond a squint.

We were on the Friendship Express again. As before, Night Flurry rested in the seat across the aisle.

Why? is what I wanted to ask. What actually came out was, “Mmmph.”

Thankfully, Night Flurry seemed ready to explain, anyway. “The trip to Fetlock... I suppose it was a lot of fun, I... I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But still... that night and the attack… And now, this train ride... I can’t help but tie it to what happened to you.”

“Mmmmrph.” My voice failed me again.

Night Flurry sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever like trains. You were right to want to fly to Fetlock.”

“I’ve never been to a beach before. I-I don’t even know what I’m going to do... I imagine you’ve been to the beach dozens of times.” He slumped, staring down at his forehooves. “I g-guess it’s not really a vacation. Merri and Star, they’re pretty serious and M-Mahogany, I don’t know what to say.”

I reached out my own foreleg, which felt like the weight of the entire train was pulling it down. It also didn’t help that my eyes still didn’t want me to see what I was doing. Somehow, I managed to get my quivering hoof atop his. I’d wanted to pat him on the shoulder, but that definitely wasn’t happening, so I supposed I’d have to settle.

“Whatever’s ahead… I really don’t think I have the courage. B-but you all do. And somehow, that gives me enough to go on…” Night Flurry looked up and smiled.

My eyes were growing heavy again, but I did my best to smile back. As the darkness returned, I neither knew, nor cared, whether I’d succeeded.

18 - Realities

Up until now, I’d thought I’d lost all sense of time. I was wrong. My mind had become a black hole, sucking in my senses. Before, bringing them to bear had been ‘merely’ difficult. Now, I wasn’t even allowed to try. Despite that, by some miracle, I still had the click clack of the train wheels. But something about it wasn’t right; it was too same-y, like I was still in the library, listening to a broken record of a train.

The loneliness was closing in, holding me fast against myself. It was almost maddening.

Then Night Flurry’s voice cut through it all. He was distant, the sound of a whisper, but without the inflection. I could barely understand one word at a time. But with him came a reassuring warmth. He could have just been a dream, an illusion. It didn’t matter.

“... think … … like … I … clinic... … ?”

I got the gist of it. I wanted to nod, but, of course, I couldn’t.

He continued to speak. Nothing else stuck out, or fell together quite so nicely. It still didn’t matter.

Terra spoke next, her words just as lost as Night Flurry’s. Yet, they carried a similar warmth with them, wrapping around me like a blanket.

Their voices alternated, some topic bouncing between them for many, uncountable iterations—enough that I feared that they too had become a part of the repeating record.

However, the next time it should have been Night Flurry’s turn, Terra spoke again, this time a little louder. And again after that.

There was still generally no form to her words, but every now and then, she’d become clearer. I caught some shop jargon here and there. Each word made me relax a bit more. I still had no sense of time, but at some point, I no longer felt lost. It was almost like things were normal again—just Terra and I having a pleasant, mundane conversation.

---

The sound of wheels on the tracks had stopped and I didn’t remember when. It had reached its destination, whether that was a real place or the end of its existence in my dream.

I thought I heard Night Flurry shout my name, but he was so distant that I wasn’t even sure it was a shout.

There were more murmurs. Always with the murmurs. They continued for several minutes, growing louder, but not clearer.

I felt myself being lifted up, the freaky touch of unicorn magic sliding across my coat as it levitated me through the air. Not that I have anything against unicorn magic, but flight by magic other than that of a pegasus has always felt completely wrong.

The landing was about as gentle as it could be. My legs, then the rest of my body, pressed up against a surface that was perfectly level and spacious, but decidedly not cushy. It had the approximate feel of wooden planks, but I couldn’t be sure. A stiff, plastic-y tarp of a blanket brushed across my back and over my head. All sound became even more muffled, with, much to my annoyance, all conversation blending together into a long string of incomprehensiveness.

Aside from my inhibited hearing, I couldn’t say I was particularly uncomfortable. After all, I’d spent more than a few afternoons lazing in the back of my dad’s wagon. In fact, as the floor beneath me lurched forward, the sensation was almost nostalgic. The steady crunch of wheels grinding over dirt road touched my ears, and I couldn’t help but smile.

We couldn’t have gone more than a few blocks, but the change was marked. The cart stopped bouncing, its wheels gripping something smoother and sturdier. Gone too, was the bustle of the station, even if it had been an incoherent mishmash. Other than the muted sound of the wheels, everything was silent—eerily so.

As I listened in vain, the endless quiet lulled me into an uneasy haze, then sleep. Inexplicably, the darkness became darker.

---

“How is... this place… I-it’s so… big.” Terra’s disbelief was almost tangible, like the words themselves were reaching out to touch the massive room.

The floor was made entirely of polished marble, with trails of light sliding across the floor and out the half-drawn curtains. Even with the plush, red curtains in the way, the visible parts of the windows were easily four times taller than me and about twice as wide. Outside was nothing but blue, with a tiny of line of a horizon where sky met ocean.

On our right was a full bar that boasted a long row of crystal glasses, the kind of glass my dad sometimes sold individually for several hundred bits. The counter was some kind of sturdy, expensive wood that I couldn’t quite identify. The stools had cushions so thick that, had they proper backings and foreleg rests, they could have been thrones.

A thick, woven rug sat in the centre of the room, just beckoning everyone to flop down. I almost might have if the colours hadn’t distracted me. Whatever they were trying to form, I wasn’t getting it. Figures that a fancy rug would incorporate some kind of abstract art.

As if the rug and stools weren’t enough, the cushions on our left had to outdo both of them put together. They were huge, easily twice my mass and just looking at them, I knew they’d form to the exact shape of my body the second I sat down.

And that was just the main room. Beyond both the bar and the cushion sanctuary, additional corridors ran off around the bend, no doubt leading into a labyrinth of excess.

I wasn’t sure when we entered or even how we planned to afford it, but we were unmistakably in a penthouse suite.

Shaking my own awe off, I turned to Terra. Perhaps she knew why we were even here. However, if she did, it would have to wait. She was frozen in place; not an inch of her moved, not even her eyes. Given that her coat was also glistening about as much as the marble floor, I was almost concerned she was going to end up in the clinic for a heart attack or dehydration, if not both.

“Uh, Terra, you okay there?” I asked.

Shallow breaths escaped her lips as she let her rump fall to the floor, but otherwise, she didn’t respond.

“Terra?”

She opened her mouth, but it didn’t close. Not a single sound came out.

Reaching out a forehoof, I prodded her in the shoulder. Once. Then again. Still nothing.

“Um… Terra?” Night Flurry asked from in front of us. But that couldn’t be right. My head snapped forward and sure enough, he was there. I didn’t know how I'd missed him.

Terra jumped, almost tripping over herself as she got back on all four hooves. “Huh?”

“H-help with D-Dusky?” he asked.

“Help? With what?” I tilted my head. “If anything, it’s Terra who could use some help.”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I can help,” Terra said, like I wasn’t even there.

“Um, hello?” I prodded her again. She didn’t so much as flinch.

“Pfff, yeah. ‘S’like you ain’t ever seen a full cooler before.” Mahogany laughed from behind us. I spun around. The door was still closed.

How? Am I going deaf? I wondered, poking at my own ear.

“That’s not what I was looking at and you know it!” Terra grumbled. “Not like you’ve ever seen one either.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mahogany scrunched his muzzle as he waved a forehoof.

Terra was lightning fast, responding with an intense glare. “No, it’s the whole point.”

Night Flurry trotted over to the cushions. “Over h-here.”

“Er, right. This is more important. Sorry, Flurry.” Terra’s anger was gone, replaced in its entirety by concern.

“Hey!” I shouted. No dice.

Why aren’t they talking to me? Am I dead? A ghost?

Nothing made sense. It was all wrong. The world ended.

---

Once, as a filly who was high on the discovery of her budding weather control skills, I’d gathered as many of the smallest clouds I could find. It was a lot of work, but once I’d shoved them together into some sort of deformed super cloud, I proceeded to flop on top, letting the endless fluff embrace me. It was perhaps a bit too comfortable, as before I knew it, I’d whiled away the entire afternoon.

As Night Flurry’s voice pulled me back to semi-consciousness, or whatever state-of-mind it was, that’s how I felt. Whatever I was lying on, it was quality.

“I guess we made it. Pretend vacation, right?” He let out a laugh, the sort of half-forced chuckle that wanted so much to be genuine, but only served to highlight how uncertain it was.

Vacation? I wanted to ask him so many things, but my body was heavy and useless again. My lips got maybe an inch open, just enough for a small sigh. Frustration welled up inside me, though only briefly—it was exhausting, even though I was lying half-conscious in a boneless heap. Letting it go was a necessity.

As I turned my attention back to not-anger, I heard a deep, uneven sniff, the kind that comes with holding back tears. When Night Flurry finally spoke, his voice was just as uneven.

“Y-you... you nearly died, Dusky. A-and I know... I know you're going to be okay, but..."

Suddenly, he was crying. Not just sobbing, but a full-on meltdown. Still, he kept going, somehow managing to get some words in here and there. “I-I don't want to lose any of my friends… Dusky... I...”

I didn’t know how bad off I was, but I wanted to reach out, to hug him, or even just touch his shoulder again. Anything to reassure him. Twilight is good at what she does, after all. Of course, my body was about as useful as ever. My forelegs flopped out in front of me and took root. As I struggled against their weight, I faded away.

---

To say I felt sluggish was an understatement. Everything was silent—eerily so—as I pushed my bleary eyes open. The scent of seawater lingered in the air.

Even with my blurred vision, the room looked nothing like mine.

My eyes snapped open and everything came into focus.The room was rectangular, its soft blue walls adorned with a variety of pictures and seashell decorations. There was an untouched bed to my left and a large window, curtains drawn to a crack, to my right.

My best guess was a hotel room. Not a suite, but nothing short of a standard double at a four-star establishment.

I didn’t know the why or the how, but my first instinct was to secure the room. Just because it was nice, didn’t mean there couldn’t be danger or that I wasn’t a prisoner.

The majority of the tension left my body as I noticed Night to my right. He was facing the window, staring at the slit of visible sky.

“I imagine you’ve been to tons of beaches. This is probably nothing new to you.” He spoke in a contemplative way, as though he didn’t expect me to respond.

Bits and fragments of dreams flashed through my mind. Night’s voice. Strange places. I couldn’t be sure if it was real. I couldn’t be sure this was real.

“I... I can’t believe how much I’ve seen, just recently. Places I’d have never dreamed of going to just a few months ago. It’s... it’s fun. Even when the circumstances aren't the best. It’s just taking the time to enjoy the little joys of someplace new and... and it's the ponies who go with you that make the trip really special.” He turned to me, a sort of sad smile on his lips—and stopped dead. His eyes brightened considerably as the realization took root. “Um… D-Dusky?!”

I smiled clumsily, my body a tad sluggish again, now that the adrenaline was wearing off. “Good morning, Night.”

“Morning!” He tensed, jaw working as though he had a billion things to say, but no idea what to say first. Then he moved with remarkable speed, wrapping me in a tight hug that said it all.

As I hugged back, the warmth of his coat against mine, his scent drifting up to my nostrils, I just knew it was real. I nuzzled into his forelock. I wasn’t alone anymore.

19 - Recuperation

“Oh, I see how it is. You were just waiting until I was in the bathroom, weren’t you~?” Merriweather’s voice pulled my eyes to the left, where she leaned against the wall, a giant grin plastered on her face.

“Wh-what?” Night looked down, eyes going wide, as though he just realized he was hugging me. His cheeks tried to imitate Merriweather’s coat as he pulled away and stared off to the side. “N-no, it was just… w-we were, um…”

I rolled my eyes at Merriweather. While my throat felt more parched with each second, I still managed to push the words out. “Really? That’s the first thing you say?”

“Aw, geez, c’mon, it was just a joke. In case you didn’t know, things have been kind of tense lately.” She trotted to the end of the bed and looked me up and down. “Wow, you’re looking pretty good for what you’ve been through. That Twilight’s a real wizard. Maybe even better than Sis’~.”

“Well, magic is kind of her thing. Plus she’s an Element of Harmony and Princess Celestia’s personal protégé.”

“Oh! That’s why her name sounded so familiar.”

I blinked. “You mean you didn’t know?”

“Nah. Sometimes I just forget things because Sis’s speeches are too long-winded, that’s all.”

“Right. All that boring Equestrian history.” A smirk crept up my lips as I sighed.

“Exactly~.” She nodded knowingly, although she paused after her third. “Er, no offense.”

I stuck my tongue out. “I’ll let it slide for now.”

The bigger concern was just how accurate Merriweather’s assessment of my health was. With all the aches catching up to me, I certainly didn’t feel in good shape. I shoved the covers aside so I could get a better look at my body. When shadows continued to get in the way, I switched on the bedside lamp.

To Merriweather’s credit, I did look better than I felt. Not that that was a high bar or anything, but it was a pretty marked difference. Sure, there were a few bald spots and scars where I’d obviously taken some bad hits, but given a week, my coat would grow back.

“I, um, th-think you l-look good… um, t-too.” Night smiled sheepishly. It was strangely reassuring.

“Thanks.” With some effort, I mustered my own smile. “So where are we anyway?”

“Myrtail Beach. Nice, huh?” Merriweather flourished and grinned like a salespony.

The name clicked almost instantly. While it wasn’t the most famous resort in the country, it was still a staple of any respectable travel centre’s brochures. Its secluded location was as much of an attraction as the beach itself. Even by train, the trip would have taken at least a day.

“Why?” I furrowed my brow.

“B-because you were... h-hurt and we needed s-someplace safe.” Night looked like he was about to tear up. I placed a hoof on his shoulder.

“Right and I'm glad you thought of that, but… well, a resort doesn’t strike me as a first choice for lying low.”

“U-um, well… th-that’s…” Night slumped.

“It was his dad’s plan,” Merriweather chimed in. “Something about choosing somewhere unofficial so the info won’t leak out through the Guard.”

Apprehension washed over me, starting with the mention of Noble Light, but completely passing by the end of Merriweather’s sentence. There was still a lingering wariness, lying heavy in my gut, but it was weak enough that I could laugh it off—at least for now. This was tempered as my mind pondered his logic.

“That doesn’t make the vacation destination any less odd, but I suppose that may be why he went with it in the first place.”

Night nodded, although it lacked confidence, like he was agreeing with my theory rather than confirming it. And just like that, I found myself wondering, once again, if Noble Light was really our ally.

But I was getting ahead of myself. If I wanted to be anything more than useless, there were pressing basic questions that needed answering.

“How long was I out? A week?” I knew my guess was probably high, but I always found it easier to plan for the worst and let the rest be windfall.

“Um, two days? Maybe three?” Night looked at Merriweather.

She shrugged. “Something like that.”

“That’s not very long. Everyone must have been on the ball.” I made a mental note to thank Twilight when we got back. Her magic had mitigated more of my disadvantage than I could have dreamed.

“Sure were! You should’ve seen Night, being all organized and leaderly.” Merriweather grinned.

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, under which Night shrunk. “Well, thank you, Night Light.”

“I-I just wanted you to be s-safe.” He blushed. A moment later, my statement caught up to him. “W-wait, you, um… h-heard me talking?”

“Sometimes. I don’t know how much of it was a dream or not, but that particular statement stuck with me.”

Night didn’t say a word. He’d passed well beyond embarrassment, into just grinning ear-to-ear. I doubt he even realized he was doing it.

“So who else is here?” I glanced at Merriweather. Starshadow was a given, but I could only hope to Celestia that Terra, Mahogany and Blizzard hadn’t been dragged into this fresh mess.

“Well, there’s Sis’ and Terra and Mahogany.”

“They aren’t hurt are they? And what about Blizzard?”

“Eh? No, whoever attacked you backed off before we found you.” Merriweather pondered. “As for Blizzard, I don’t think she was there.”

I let out a sigh. Well, one out of three is still something, right? Plus no one else got hurt… for now.

Had I not been sitting, my mind’s own jab might have staggered me. The advantages were minor before the scope of what I’d have to plan. It was big. Maybe too big for me to handle. I was just one pony, after all, and one who just almost died at that. How was I to keep three others, if not five, safe?

All this before I’d even asked the hardest question. I took a deep breath.

“Okay. I know this may be hard, but can you gather everyone? I need to know everything that’s happened while I was out.”

“E-everything?” Night’s eyes grew wide.

“I know I’m asking a lot, but if we want to get through this, I need to sit down and piece this together.”

Merriweather nodded slowly, a strange clairvoyance in her eyes. “Okay, then. Go on, Night.”

He blinked. “M-Merri?”

“Go get everyone.”

“Wh-what?” He looked at me, then down at the floor before staring up at Merriweather. “What about you?”

“I’m standing guard, silly. Now, go on. It’s rude to keep a mare waiting and you’ve got two of us sitting here~.” She grinned broadly as Night squirmed.

“U-um, right,” he squeaked. “I’ll b-be back.”

“Thanks, Night,” I said, hoping to mitigate a bit of the teasing. Turns out, a fourth ‘voice’ had other plans.

Grrrrrrrrwnnnnnndurgle! went my stomach, every ache flaring up again as the grumble rippled through my body. I was now painfully aware of the one hunger I’d forgotten in my pursuit of the other. Perhaps it was just the fatigue, but I could have sworn that the sound echoed a couple times.

Night and Merriweather stared.

“Um, think you could get something for me while you’re out?”

---

I never thought I’d order room service. It just never seemed worth the cost. However, despite the assurance of safety, I was loathe to have anyone wander too far in this strange environment, nevermind discuss private matters in a public eatery. With everyone’s safety on the line, a few extra bits didn’t seem so bad anymore.

And that’s how we ended up in a circle in a dark hotel room, surrounding a meager buffet. To be fair, it was still rather tasty wild grass and oats. The portions just left a bit to be desired.

Once I got a bit of food and about half the ice bucket in my stomach, I felt like a new mare. The aches were forgotten and a weight I didn’t even know had been hanging over my mind was lifted. Granted, I wasn’t about to run laps around the hotel, but at least now we could have our conversation without interruption—or at least that specific interruption.

Of course, the conversation had to start first. Not that I could blame the others for avoiding the subject. It definitely wasn’t easier to make the request a second time. In fact, if anything, it was even harder.

Night looked like he kept wanting to say something, but was too afraid. Mahogany smelled of whiskey and wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I couldn’t tell if the room or the food made Terra more uncomfortable. Merriweather was about as serious as I’d ever seen her. And Starshadow was… Starshadow, a fact that made me wonder if such a thing could ever be said about me. Of which I wasn’t even sure if I could call it good or bad.

“Very well,” Starshadow finally said. “I shall tell you what I know on one condition.”

I blinked. “A condition? Why? This is serious.”

“I know. That is why you have to tell us your side too.”

“All right. But it’s not pretty.” I sighed—not because I wanted to withhold the information, but because I was wary of how it would make Terra, Mahogany and Night feel. “Are you really sure you want to know?”

Terra stared straight at me, her eyes emanating fear, a fear of both everything and nothing. “Do you think our imagination would be much better?”

“No, you’re right.” I gave her my best apologetic look. “It all started with a member of the Guard named Light Horn”

Mahogany snorted.

“It’s not your fault, Mahogany,” I said. He still didn’t meet my eyes. “I didn’t really pick up on him, either. He had us both fooled.”

Starshadow cleared her throat. “If I may interject, neither of you can reasonably be blamed. The enchantment was tailored to fool even experienced unicorns.”

“Enchantment?” I froze, the whole sequence of events rushing past at once. That must have been the magic that had thrown me off-kilter. But the thought of it being some sort of influence that didn’t even require effort on his part, that sent chills down my spine.

“Indeed. But I shall speak on that more when it is my turn.”

And with that, everything was back on me. I detailed Light Horn’s Equestrian National Investigation ruse, how my attempt to find a private place had led to me being tailed by thugs and how I felt like the magic had altered my perception of him. While Mahogany slipped in a curse here and there, it was Night who squirmed and buckled like he was going to be sick.

As the warehouse approached, I started to scale things back, leaving out as many gory details as I could. But as greater and greater horror progressed across Terra’s, Mahogany’s and Night’s faces, it became clear that the gesture was in vain. They had no need for any description of the gore.

To be honest, my own recounting left me unsettled and not entirely because I’d almost died. No, it was because of those I’d had to snuff out. I’ve been taught never to hold back in a fight, and in the heat of battle, I’ve never hesitated to defend myself by any means necessary. However, once my blood cools, it’s plain to see what I’ve done. Cartel or no, they were still living, sentient beings. And it always hurt, even more so when I didn’t know anything else about them. It was, strangely, a feeling I’d grown to cling to—not because I wanted to obsess over my regrets, but because it’s what kept me from excess, from becoming a murderer.

The Ostfriesen sisters’ expressions didn’t change, with Merriweather merely glancing at Starshadow. At that moment, they almost looked like twins. I wasn’t sure if their impassiveness came from professionalism or desensitisation, but I really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Terra stood and trotted over to me. She stared at me. It was that kind of far-off look where she was seeing something else.

“Um, Terra?” I peered back at her.

“Dusky.” She reached forward and wrapped me in a tight hug. She didn’t let go.

“Terra?”

“Dusky. You’re alive. You’re alive.” She repeated it a few more times.

I leaned in, giving her a hug of my own, albeit much lighter than hers. “I’m sorry.”

“If this is too uncomfortable,” Starshadow said. “Merriweather and I can take it from here while the others wait in another room.

“N-no. I’ll d-do it,” Night insisted.

“Are you certain?” Starshadow eyed him up and down.

“We have to f-face this if we w-want to help.” His voice wavered, but didn’t completely falter.

“Mahogany? Terrabona?” she asked.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Mahogany grumbled, looking away.

Terra stepped back and nodded, slowly and with a resigned deliberation.

“Very well. Night Flurry?” Starshadow motioned toward him.

“Y-you crashed into the b-bar, D-Dusky. Y-you were a b-bloody mess.” Night shivered. “The guard was d-dead, b-but you were still there, b-barely clinging to life. I… I wouldn’t accept that you might d-die too. W-when y-you said not to go the clinic, we c-could only think of T-Twilight and how she was s-so strong. Sh-she had to be able to h-help y-you.”

I nodded. “And did you notice anyone watching? Or if anyone followed you there?”

“No,” Merriweather chimed in. “I was watching to make sure everyone was safe and there was no one. Doesn’t surprise me, since you ended up so far away from where the fight started.”

“No one noticed me moving our ‘friend,’ the ‘Guard,’ when I moved him, either,” Starshadow added. “During that time, I discovered the enchantment on his helmet. It alters behaviour, likely by making people like him more than they should.”

She gave me a meaningful look. My reply was a solemn nod.

“R-right,” Night swallowed hard. “S-so Twilight was able to heal you, b-but she said you would need t-time. Meanwhile, I… I c-called in my d-dad. H-he said he was going to s-send us here until he could s-straighten things out. I-it’s supposed to be wh-where spies can’t f-find us.”

I nodded again. “And how did we get here?”

“B-by train. We came s-straight from Ponyville. A-and as soon as w-we arrived, we brought y-you up here. M-Merriweather and S-Starshadow s-said they would stand g-guard.”

That certainly explained the train, but not the bar. I began to wonder if the latter had been merely a dream, but then, that was when I learned about Night Light, so that didn’t make sense. Before I could go any deeper, my mind poked me, reminding me that I could continue being silly and speculating, or I could actually ask for the truth.

I raised an eyebrow. “So we weren’t in the bar at any point?”

“N-no, um, w-why?” Night asked.

“Mmmm. Perhaps I was dreaming, but, that was when I heard you say your real name.”

“O-oh, um… well, w-we were just in the library.”

“See? This is why I need you to recount the events,” I said, to which just about everyone nodded. “Anyway, and no one was following you at any point?”

“Nope! Sis’ and I had it all covered!” Merriweather flourished.

I was about to push for more details when Starshadow quickly clarified, “Such surveillance would be especially obvious here.”

“And that brings us to the present?”

“U-um, sort of.”

---

The rest of the explanation outlined the rest of everyone’s stay thus far—something that had become a boring, yet also strange, routine. At least, I thought the very nature of the situation made the whole thing odd, but the Cartel had clearly done nothing to approach, if they were present at all. Starshadow and Merriweather had been on rotating guard duty, while everyone else did their own thing. Night’s thing just so happened to have been keeping me company.

Frustratingly, Noble Light hadn’t given any kind of estimate for when he would be finished. Not that I could really blame him. The task ahead of him would probably unravel quickly if he could find the right thread. But that required him to find the right thread.

Doubly frustratingly, my current condition wasn’t good enough for me to even think about resuming exercises or scouting out the rest of the resort. As such, it was determined that everyone should just part ways. Night and Mahogany had their own room, while Terra and I were bunking. And, of course, while Merriweather and Starshadow had their own room, one of them had to hang out in mine and Terra’s.

Because the prospect of sleeping a ton, stuffing my face, then sleeping even more, made me feel like a glutton, I found myself looking for anything that could provide a few minutes’ distraction. And so, as I felt myself slumping and yawning, I poked through the sizable cache of bags that Twilight had sent along.

There was a generous helping of medical supplies in one, and what appeared to be home-made emergency rations in the other. A third had random grooming supplies.

The fourth and last, however, was my flight satchel, which is what I had really been concerned about. The colours were noticeably dulled. Even though fading was inevitable through normal use, it was the distinct acceleration that bothered me.

As I pulled the flap open and found my scarf inside, in a similar condition, I began to wonder if it was a problem with my eyes. I pulled it out with the intent of staring at it in the mirror. As it unfurled, a couple index cards fluttered out and onto the ground.

The first read, “Sorry about the fading.” From there, it and the following card launched into a detailed explanation of a spell and why it had dulled the colour so much. The theory and terminology were completely beyond me, but from what little I could understand, when the stains are especially deep, the physical damage is worse and that many attempts may be needed. The very end was neatly signed by Twilight.

Night had clearly not being exaggerating even an inch when he’d called me a “bloody mess”. I was beginning to have doubts that I could have even cleaned my equipment without Twilight’s help. I made another mental note to thank her.

With a sigh, I turned back to the dreaded bed, pondering what else I could do to avoid it. That was when I noticed that the comforter, as well as the sheets, were missing from Terra’s. I could have sworn they were there only five minutes ago.

“Uh, Terra, What are you doing?” Merriweather’s confusion quickly became amusement. “Do you have some sort of thing for closets~?”

I followed her voice to the jacket closet, where Terra had entrenched herself and her linens. She glared up at Merriweather. “I have to do this.”

“But you could totally sleep like a princess~!” Merriweather waggled her rump as she pointed, as though she was settling into the bare, sizable mattress.

“Exactly!” Terra held her ground, digging in even more. “I can’t let the fancy in. Once it gets in, there’s no getting it out.”

Despite my best efforts, the barest of smirks formed on my lips and I immediately felt bad. Once things were a bit calmer, we’d have to have a chat about this aversion of hers. But for now, it was my turn to trot over and wrap her in a hug.

Whatever. Good enough.

20 - Getting One's Hooves Wet

I didn’t know what was weirder: passing out in the closet pressed up against Terra as Merriweather giggled incessantly; or waking up to Starshadow peering down at me. As she continued her wordless stare, I began to lean toward the latter.

“There is a bed,” she said.

“We know,” I mumbled, mouth still a minute behind my brain. “It’s... complicated.”

“That is not the term Merriweather used, but I shall take your word for it.”

I frowned. “Dare I ask?”

“‘Getting awfully friendly’ is how she put it.”

“Oh. I expected something lewder.”

“She does sometimes have some level of tact.” Starshadow gave me a look that I can only describe as an apologetic smirk.

“Right.” By then, I was finally awake enough to realize that I didn’t feel Terra’s body against mine. A quick glance to my side and, sure enough, she was gone. “Where’s Terra?”

“She had an urgent ‘errand’ to run as soon she woke. Presumably one that involves a bottle.”

“I can’t really blame her. It’s been a rough week.” Still, I couldn’t help but sigh. If only she’d woken me, I would have kept her company. As I pushed myself up to my hooves, it occurred to me that I still could. The hotel couldn’t have too many bars to check.

Starshadow stood back, although her eyes were still fixed on me. The concern on her face told me quite clearly that she wanted to help, but I supposed she wanted to respect my dignity. To be honest, I was a little grateful for it.

Yesterday’s soreness was basically gone, replaced by an awkward stiffness. As I worked to limber up my legs, I glanced at Starshadow. “Do you feel up to a stroll?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“It won’t be far, just a quick check to make sure Terra’s okay. I’ll be fine.” Now that I had my blood flowing a bit, I felt like wandering around wouldn’t be a big deal. I wagered I could even run a few laps; I knew better than to push my luck, though.

“Very well.” Starshadow nodded. “So long as we inform Merriweather, I do not have a problem.”

“Thanks.” I flashed her a smile as I trotted back to the main room, where my bags—as well as Twilight’s packages—still lay in semi-disarray. Despite Merriweather’s previous presence, the rest of the room hadn’t changed either. It was almost like hugging Terra had stopped time and I was just picking up where I’d left off.

I just needed to take an assessment of my bits, as well as find my cloak; it wouldn’t do to let everyone see the damage to my coat. I was about halfway done counting when a slow knock echoed through the room.

Turning toward the door, I caught Starshadow’s eye. We exchanged nods, then she crept up to the the door and peered through the peephole.

She gave me another nod, then opened the door. “Hello, Night Flurry.”

“Oh, um… Star? Could, um... you just... s-step outside for a moment?” He asked. I could practically hear him shrinking.

Starshadow didn’t say anything.

I trotted over, deciding it best that I see what was up. “Hi, Night. Everything okay?”

“Nothing important, really… I just needed… c-can we talk? Alone?” He squirmed as he looked up. The first statement was clearly false, but I didn’t think he was intentionally lying.

“Are you feeling up to it?” Starshadow asked, more as an excuse to let me decline than anything.

A smirk spread up my lips as I answered, “I think I can manage.”

“I shall be just outside.” Starshadow bowed before exchanging places with Night. The door eased itself shut.

He trotted up to me and grinned a nervous grin. “Dusky… hi.”

“Hi.” I smiled back. “So, nothing important. No word from your father?”

Night shook his head.

“Then what’s on your mind?”

He inhaled deeply, as though he had to push the words all the way out of his lungs. “Just... I... I've been thinking. About... me... a-and you.”

There was no way I didn’t give him a funny look. It was almost like we were a few weeks in the past again. “And? What did you need to say to me alone?”

“J-just that... well…” Night was breathing so hard, I was certain he was going to start hyperventilating. “We're friends…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you're all right?”

Nodding vigourously, he worked his jaw, always snapping it shut before any sound could escape. He should have saved the deep breath. “I... just couldn't... I... I need to know the truth.”

“The truth is what I told you.” I eyed him up and down. “There isn’t much more to say, unless you mean something else?”

Night squirmed. “N-no. I mean... about me. I... I need to know... we're friends, right?”

Relaxing a little, I nodded. “Of course.’

“Th-then... th-that's what I need to know... I don't want to… If... if I ever step over a line, if I ever get too... Aggggghh!” He threw his forehooves in the air.

I almost took a step back, but my mind was too busy working. Something was wrong and I was beginning to suspect just what it was.

He looked straight at me. “Dusky... I love you.”

Yep.

And yet, I still found myself surprised. Truth be told, while I’d hoped he wouldn’t, that he’d still taken the prior weeks to heart, I was also okay with it. Perhaps it wasn’t what he or others would normally associate with the word, but it was definitely something genuine. The question, then, was whether it would continue in that same vein, or if old tendencies would resurface. There was only one way to find the answer.

“Oh, Night... don't you think 'love' is a little strong?” I cracked a smile. “I mean, we haven't even had a first date.”

He froze, a grin slowly materializing on his face. "I... w-wait… Does... does that mean we'll have to change that?"

“Maybe. If we're in agreement, I don’t see any harm in trying.”

His face turned bright red. “I... absolutely!”

“Although, that’ll have to wait for another day. I don’t quite trust this place enough for something like this on such short notice.”

“I... guess it’s good to b-be safe, y-you know, even after your um... well... yeah. I... I'll figure something out soon, then, okay?”

I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Night turned and started toward the door, but after a few steps, he doubled back, awkwardly wrapping me in a hug. “Um... Have a good afternoon... Dusky.”

I hugged him back. “You too, Night Light.”

---

As Starshadow and I rode the elevator down, it occurred to me why I felt especially nervous about Myrtail. I had no arrangements. No back-up location, no contacts in the city and no line to my outside connections. With no eyes beyond the city limits, it was as much a prison as a haven.

The lobby was a large oval, the ocean side of it crammed with as many windows as possible. The sandscape beyond was dotted with ponies, most lounging on towels or under large, colourful umbrellas. A few of the more restless vacationers hung out in the water.

Pulling my eyes back to the lobby proper, I glanced around. It was mostly empty, with just a bored receptionist at the desk and a single mint green pegasus mare perusing the somewhat gaudy, yet charming, reed furniture.

Even gaudier, though, was the mare’s oversized sun hat. While the crown was a plain white, the wide brim was filled with dozens of bright, abstract suns. Her golden lyre cutie mark flashed in and out of existence as her blonde tail swished back and forth. A pair of sunglasses obscured her eyes, although they were quite clearly pointed at a paper on the table in front of her. An intense frown was set upon her lips, completing the picture of a grumpy tourist.

The whole getup just yelled, “Hey, look at me!” so hard that I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be self-important or draw my attention away from someone else. Given that the lobby was otherwise completely empty, the former seemed a bit more likely. Still, something about her felt vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it—and that set me on edge.

Regardless, stopping and staring would do little more than alert her, if she was a spy; or make her angry, if she was legit. So I filed her appearance away in my mind and kept walking.

The oval attached to a wide hall, which branched off several times. Just about all of them were narrower halls with rooms lining each side, before ending at a glass door that led out onto the beach. The only exception was one that led into a small alcove with public washrooms. At the very end of the main hall, it opened up into what looked like a large foyer.

As we reached the mouth of the last side hall before the foyer, I stopped. Even though she was right beside me, Starshadow didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head.

I motioned toward the end of the side hall. “If we get separated at all.”

“Understood.” She nodded.

The foyer was a pretty standard hotel hub. There was a sizable gift shop with bright floral shirts plastered all over every window. As I turned away, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the tourist’s gaudy hat. My eyes darted back to the window. To be fair, it was the same hat, but it was donned by a clothing dummy, both of which were barely visible behind the wall of shirts.

Cool it, Dusky, I chided myself.

Across from the shop was a tribal wooden arch that served as an entrance to their restaurant. Judging by the tuxedoed stallion at the door, I wagered it was still the thirty-bits-per-plate kind of place these types of hotels usually tote.

It was just beyond the restaurant that I found what I was looking for: the bar. However, Terra was nowhere to be found. Instead, I saw Mahogany, alone at the counter, with nothing but a couple empty glasses keeping him company. It was as I feared: the incident had left its mark on my friends, which was exactly what I’d been trying to protect them from. It was a very strange feeling to think that Night, of all ponies, was dealing with it the best. In some strange twist of irony, perhaps his prior foolishness had left him prepared.

“Would you mind waiting here?” I asked. “I’d like to talk to Mahogany.”

“No.” There was just a tinge of sadness of in Starshadow’s voice. I couldn't really fault her; this was the second of what was likely to be three conversations that she would be left out of. “I shall let you have your heart-to-heart.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, deciding that perhaps when we got back to the room, we could have a chat. It wasn’t like we were going anywhere else anytime soon and I wouldn’t mind hearing more about Ostfriesen.

I trotted over to Mahogany, stopping at the seat beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said without looking away from his drink.

“Need some company?”

Mahogany shrugged. “Sure.”

I ordered a cider. Neither of us said a word while we waited for it to arrive. The silence was deafening. As soon as I had my drink, I turned to him.

“I don’t blame you, y’know.” I hoped I didn’t sound like a broken record. “Neither of us could have known. And besides, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. If I hadn’t been such a naive young mare, you wouldn’t have even been in that situation. So, please, Mahogany, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He let out a low, almost bitter, chuckle. “‘Sjus’ like you.”

“What?”

“Big Sisser Dusky Down’s gotta put on ‘er motherin’ pants an’ look after everything an’ get ‘er chickens in a row before they hatch.”

I felt a tinge of pride, even if the honourific wasn’t being used entirely positively. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Mmmph. Whaddawe do when y’ain’t ‘round?” He gave the wall over my shoulder a meaningful look.

“I don’t know. I never wanted it to come to this. I guess… deep down, I knew I just had to hope they’d decide it wasn’t worth it.” It was my turn to laugh darkly. “So much for that. But, there’s still hope. Maybe when we’re done here, it’ll all be over.”

“Psh. Maybe.”

Truth be told, I was still skeptical too. Noble Light was too much of a wildcard. Even if he came through, there was no guarantee that everything would be solved. And if he didn’t, well… I’d probably be looking for a new home.

For now, the best I could do was hug Mahogany. He stiffened a moment before slumping down again. He gave me a drunken approximation of one in turn.

---

Oddly enough, Mahogany hadn’t seen Terra. I thought for sure that she’d go for the whiskey, but I supposed the bar probably qualified as too fancy, too. I initially debated whether I should bother checking the other indoor bars, but turns out Mahogany’s was the only one. Outside, however, was a different story. According to the hotel floor plan, there were no less than five drink stands out on the beach.

The beach was quite crowded, which didn’t help the search any, nevermind that the density of people made me extra nervous. There were too many faces to keep track of and thus, no telling who could be watching. At least it would be easy to tell if grumpy sun hat mare was following me—everyone else had better fashion sense.

By the time we’d visited the second stand, it was pretty clear that even these outside bars were just as lavish as any other part of the hotel. With the bars out of the picture, I figured Terra might try to find someplace isolated so she could ignore as much of the hotel as possible. With the crowd stretching out in both directions as far as the eye could see, the only thing we could do was start walking.

After a good five minutes, we eventually came to a rocky, C-shaped sort of hill. The beach leading up to it was practically a driftwood graveyard, with all the extra gunk that entails. To even get anywhere near the inner face, someone would have to had to climb over at least two trunks. I had my doubts that Terra would have bothered, but something in my gut told me to check anyway.

It wasn’t until I was halfway over the first log that I spotted a pair of green hooves sticking out from a crevice in the hill. I glanced over my shoulder at Starshadow, who was busy eying the long stretch of beach and the crowd atop it.

“Starshadow?”

Her eyes snapped to, immediately falling where I’d been looking. Then they turned to me. When I nodded, she spoke softly, “Very well. I shall keep watch.”

“Thanks.”

Either my wounds had really taken a toll on me, or Terra was fitter than I’d given her credit for. I was starting to sweat by the time I’d traversed the debris. I’d have flown, but aside from not wanting to freak Terra out by dropping in on her, any observant members of the crowd would’ve easily spotted me.

“Terra?” I asked, stepping around the rock as widely as I could.

“Oh, Dusky.” She looked up at me, almost like we were meeting again for the first time. “Hello.”

Terra sat on her haunches, her mane unkempt in a bedhead kind of way. Dirt and muck spotted her coat. At least her eyes looked dry enough.

“What are you doing out here?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Of course. I’m just, um, admiring the scenery.”

“Really, now?”

“Yep!” Terra stared past me, out over the ocean. A sigh escaped her lips.

“Is it about ‘the fancy?’” I knelt down so that we were eye-to-eye.

“No.” Her eyes wandered away. She slumped, looking sheepish all the while. “Yeah. Stupid, isn’t it?”

“I’ll admit that it hasn’t seemed like the most reasonable reaction, but...” I leaned in to give her a hug. “It’s because I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Was it that night?”

Terra shook her head. “I… guess it’s just we never had much to spare when I was growing up. We couldn’t afford anything like this, so it was just always a bad thing.”

I had to wonder why this had taken so long to surface, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. We lived in Ponyville, which wasn’t exactly a ritzy place and my own tastes aligned so closely with Terra’s frugality that I couldn’t even think of a point where it might have come up. Perhaps if she’d made it out to Fetlock, although I was quite grateful that she hadn’t.

“Makes sense. Still, I don’t like to see you like this. Is there anything I can do?”

She gave me a sad smile. “I don’t know. I think it’s something I have to deal with myself.”

I nodded. “Then I’ll be here to support you. Even if we have to hang out in a closet all day.”

Terra laughed. “There are worse things to do with worse ponies.”

“Right. Shall we get out of here?”

She nodded. As we doubled back over the logs, Terra turned to me.

“Have you seen Mahogany?” she asked, huffing as she worked her way over the last of the debris.

“Yeah, he was at the bar.”

“Great. I… I want to try going there. I owe him a drink.”

I nodded. “All right. Go on ahead. I’ll get Starshadow and catch up with you.”

As we parted ways, I scanned the beach. Starshadow was nowhere to be found. I frowned and glanced back at the hill, hoping I would see her looking down at me. But she wasn’t there either.

My gut reaction was that someone had gotten to her, but once I’d pushed the panic aside, it didn’t make much sense. There was no sign of a struggle and it was extremely doubtful that she was somehow silently beaten. Presumably, it was Starshadow who noticed something and had taken care of it. But even that carried its own concerns.

Without any more information, all I could really do was head for the rendezvous point. Once I’d met up with Starshadow and was appraised of the situation, then I could formulate a plan.

As much as I wanted to rush back to the hotel proper, I had to restrain myself. If something was really wrong, then moving so obviously could only make things worse. And so I forced myself to walk, each step rattling my worries around in my head.

After what felt like ages, I passed the gift shop. Just a couple more turns and I’d be there. That was when an unfamiliar voice called out from behind me. “Miss!”

Whirling, I spotted grumpy sun hat mare, headed straight for me. My mind raced. If she was still around, then she wasn’t the problem Starshadow had seen. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be one of many problems. On the other hoof, being a problem in the middle of a busy foyer would invariably attract the attention of security. I wouldn’t call myself safe, but there was nothing remotely overt she could do without giving me an advantage. And yet, my body tensed of its own accord.

“Miss!” she called again.

I steeled myself, forcing my voice to be as calm and level as possible. Perhaps I could gauge her better after a few words. “Yes?”

She trotted up to me and cleared her throat. “Hello. My name is Sergeant Mint Creme, of the Equestrian Guard. I have been led to believe you have some information regarding a certain incident.”

My blood ran cold.

21 - Dispositions

Swatting away the memories of Light Horn, I forced myself to look straight at Mint Creme. If this was another setup, I needed to get ahold of myself. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong pony.”

She gave me an expectant look. “Dusky Down?”

“And if I am?”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“Do you have proof of your identity?” I watched her carefully.

She nodded slowly, with a bit of an odd tilt, as though she was trying to see past me. “I do, but not here. Somewhere more private.”

It was obviously the same ploy, and yet, but by some bizarre twist of logic, it was the fact that I didn’t feel that same immediate affection that made me think twice. But all that really said was that the sun hat wasn’t enchanted. Snide fashion comments aside, there were any number of reasons, from time to cost, that would prevent them from deploying it here.

Perhaps it was bordering on paranoia, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down—not after last time. I motioned down the hall and started walking. I could only hope to Celestia that Starshadow was there. If nothing else, sorting this all out with backup would make me feel a lot better.

I had just reached the exit when the second-to-last door creaked open. Whirling, I fell into a defensive stance. Sure, it could have just been some tourist headed out to the beach, but with my mind as tense as it was, it could only see thugs around every corner.

Mint Creme turned toward the door, confusion written on her face. A blade shot out of the room, stopping just before touching her throat. A mixture of relief and dread washed over me as I realized that the razor-sharp blade was held in Starshadow’s aura; I was safe. Unless Mint Creme tried to fight back. Then things would get messy.

“In. Now.” Starshadow’s command was almost as sharp as her weapon.

“Okay.” Mint Creme’s voice was tense, but calm. “I don’t want any trouble.”

She walked slowly and deliberately, keeping herself in full view of the room. Whoever she was, she was definitely more sensible than the standard Cartel fare.

I quickly followed after Mint Creme, locking the door behind us.

Starshadow stood at the back of the room, sizing up Mint Creme from several paces away. The room itself seemed rather indifferent. It was pretty much a duplicate of my suite, but without any indication of anyone staying in the room. Aside from our presence, it was ready for the next guest.

I hoped that whatever Starshadow had done to gain access wouldn’t draw any undue attention to our little ‘meeting’—or come back to bite us in the flank sometime further down the road.

“What do you plan to do with me?” Mint Creme asked, a tinge of worry in her voice, but still remarkably calm for being held at knifepoint.

“We should be asking you the same question,” Starshadow said. “Given that you were following us around.”

I frowned. She must have kept some serious distance if I didn’t notice her, although that would have been of extremely limited value. It made sense, then, that she might have approached while I was distracted. Too bad Starshadow was keeping an eye out.

Mint Creme’s eyes flitted over to me. “I told you, I just want to talk.”

“Sorry.” I circled round to her side. “But the last pony to say that wasn’t particularly sincere. How about that proof of yours?”

“What?” Her mouth remained open, as though a dozen questions were on the tip of her tongue. She caught herself after a few moments. “R-right. It’s under my hat.”

I glanced at Starshadow. She nodded and Mint Creme’s hat very slowly tipped until it fell to the floor with a dull plop. The sunglasses came with, bouncing off the brim before skittering across the carpet.

As her ponytail fell free of her hat, it suddenly hit me: this was the same pegasus I’d seen in Canterlot, prior to our meeting with Noble Light—the one who shut the door when I looked at her. This meant she was either working with Noble Light or spying on him.

Poking out of the crown of the hat was a corner of parchment. I looked at Starshadow again. Once more she nodded, and the sun hat slid over to me.

At first glance, the document appeared to be some sort of orders. But as I read further, the writing seemed too familiar to be any official military document.

Mint,

This is a matter of utmost importance. This is entirely off the books and must remain as much. You are the only pony I can trust with this case—do not involve any other Guards.

You are to go to the location we previously discussed and await the arrival of six ponies (see the enclosed envelope). They are high priority targets. See to it that they are not harmed or followed. In addition, you are to ascertain the details surrounding the pegasus mare’s incident. I leave the method up to you.

I’m counting on you.

-Noble

The aforementioned envelope was missing, but the letter itself was more than enough to bring my train of thought up to full speed. I eyed the document a second time, then a third. I wished I’d gotten to know Noble Light a bit better; I just couldn’t be sure of the authenticity.

“So… you’re close to Noble Light?”

“You could say that,” Mint Creme replied. When I raised an eyebrow, she hastily added, “He’s my father.”

I blinked. “You’re Night Flurry’s sister?”

Mint Creme’s voice dropped a little. “Yes.”

It certainly explained why, if the letter was real, she was the only one he trusted. At the very least, now I had an easy way to verify her claims.

“Then he should be able to clear this right up.” I glanced at Starshadow. “Let’s tie her up before I head out.”

“Very well. There is a coil of rope under the bed.”

Mint Creme’s eyes went wide. “W-wait! Please don’t!”

Starshadow cocked her head. “Do you have a phobia?”

“Not that. Night. Don’t tell him I’m here.”

“What? Why?” I furrowed my brow. This was the perfect opportunity to prove her innocence. That is, unless she was lying and knew Night would out her.

“Night Light... Flurry... Whatever he calls himself now.” Mint Creme grimaced, like she’d been struck right in the ribs. “It wouldn’t end well. He… he doesn’t want to see us.”

“You realize that this doesn’t help your credibility, right?”

She sighed. “I know. But I’d rather you be suspicious of me than upset my brother.”

It was a strange sort of loyalty, not unlike Night’s initial tendencies, although less extreme. Between that and knowing his real name, she was really starting to look like the real deal.

I turned back to Starshadow. “I believe her.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, this could all be an elaborate deception, but she’s got a lot of things working in her favour. Plus she seems sincere enough.”

“All right.” Starshadow was already nodding, as though she’d been waiting for my confirmation. She lowered her weapon.

Mint Creme smiled. “Thanks. So, the incident?”

“Not yet.” I shook my head. “I trust who you are, but you’re still a stranger and I’m not going to talk about that with just anyone.”

She slumped. “I understand. How can I earn your trust?”

“Let me get back to you on that.”

---

A niggling in the back of my mind kept telling me that letting Mint Creme go was a mistake. But there was no new reasoning or information. And while there was nothing wrong with still being wary of her, I needed to be careful; letting myself get carried away because I was high strung was little better than letting my guard down entirely.

It was for that reason that, even though dusk was approaching, I found myself headed back to Terra’s little alcove. Sure, it was pretty dirty and the footing wasn’t going to be great, but it’s not like I was feeling up to the more strenuous aspects of training, anyway. Just the basics would work—the location was just fine.

Starshadow, of course, insisted on coming along. Not that I was inclined to stop her after this afternoon.

Once we’d arrived, she stood off to the side and said, “Do not worry about anything other than your practice. I shall keep watch.”

“Thanks,” I replied. Although, truth be told, I couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. Years of practice under the strict tutelage of my mother and I was somehow more nervous during this lightweight session.

I took a deep breath, clearing all thought from my mind. Fifty headbutts. Fifty kicks from each forehoof. Fifty wing strikes, rounded off by as many bucks. I still had it. My body felt a bit stiff, even off, but muscle memory is a powerful thing.

While my worries were still waiting for me when I finished, at least I felt more relaxed. If there was one constant in the world I could count on, it was that strange combination of focus and exhaustion I always got from those old regimens.

As the ocean breeze began to cool my sweat-slicked coat, I turned to Starshadow. “I think that’s enough for now.”

She nodded. “Your form is quite good. Have you had formal training?”

“Thank you. Yes and… well, no.” I paused, pondering how to explain without getting too wordy. “I was trained by my mother, who once trained with the Guard. She left before she officially joined their ranks, but she took that knowledge with her.”

“Ah, so she created her own style.” There was a twinkle in her eye of, not quite admiration, but closer to respect.

“Yes. She taught it to me when I was just a filly. She told me that when I was older, I’d need to know how to protect myself and those I care about.” I laughed bitterly, as visions of my last fight skittered through my mind. “I try to do it justice, but sometimes I wonder.”

“Wonder what?” Starshadow gave me an expectant look.

“I… it’s just, these recent events. I’ve been practicing all my life and yet it… it wasn’t enough.” I turned to Starshadow and my voice fell, refusing to go above a whisper. “I almost died. my mother has thrown countless would-be swindlers and robbers on their backs, but a few thugs were too much for me. I can barely protect myself, nevermind Terra, Mahogany, or Night.”

Starshadow placed a hoof on my shoulder. “That is a concern many Ostfriesens hold, as well. Even the strongest warrior is still but one pony. That is why we band together when we confront monsters. So long as you need us, Merriweather and I will help you fight yours.”

While I still wished that they hadn’t gotten dragged into this to the point that such an oath was necessary, I had to admit that I was in over my head. I would take whatever I could get.

I smiled. “Thanks, Star. Can I call you that?”

“That is a fine nickname.” She nodded. “If I may add one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“Strictly speaking, your mother has an unfair advantage.”

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, which was met by a look that said, Let me finish.

“As an instructor who developed her own style, she has a far more intimate knowledge of it than anypony else ever will. As such, you will likely never master it in the same way, but you can develop your own, the same way she took parts from that of the Guard.”

“That makes sense.” I nodded as a smirk crept up my face. “Think it could benefit from some Ostfriesen technique?”

Star cracked a smile of her own. “I would be honoured to teach you.”

“Sorry about that.” I let my smile turn sheepish. “I imagine this doesn’t even compare to life in the wastes.”

Star shook her head. “While that is true, very few dare to take on that lifestyle.”

“What?” I had this sinking feeling that I was totally off-base.

“Our land is not just the barrens. Where we settled is lush and green, with multiple sources of fresh water. Beyond that are mountains, easily accessible and rich with gems and precious metals.”

My cheeks grew warm, my own fault for going off of secondhoof rumours and legends. “Wow. Sounds like you have everything you need.”

“Mmm. Sometimes I think it is as much a curse as a boon.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“The barrens are dangerous, even for many seasoned knights. From the Equestrian side, your ponies are so unprepared that the peril of the roads have become legend. Add that we have little want for anything material that we cannot make ourselves, and there is little incentive for trade, or rather, providing escorts for Equestrian trade. Our relationship is skeletal, at best.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” I could see where she was going now. Complacency is a universal danger, and one that Equestria was not a stranger to, either.

“Internally, small squabbles break out. Politicians get caught up in their games, obsessed with nudging the borders of their influence here and there. Were it not for the monsters and our warrior pride, I am afraid we would stagnate.” Star looked down the beach, though there was nothing there. She quickly caught herself, snapping to.

I wondered if that was why Star and Merriweather had left Ostfriesen. Merriweather certainly didn’t seem the type to be too attached to politics, which would leave her little reason to stay if Star was getting sick of them. I wanted so much to ask, but the question was almost certainly overstepping my bounds. It would have to wait for another time.

“That’s a strange irony, for sure. I suppose every system has its flaws, though.”

Star nodded before glancing over at the hotel. “We should head back. Merriweather will be wondering where we are.”

“Somehow I doubt she’ll be too worried if we’re a few minutes late.” I grinned. “But I need to find Terra, anyway, so let’s go.”

22 - Relationships

Terra had found Mahogany, who hadn’t even moved from the bar, and for the first time in while, I was surprised. However, I should have known their desire for drink would eventually override their various reservations. Knowing that they were relatively fine, I was content to leave them be.

I’d considered staying for a cider or two. However, with my nerves already subdued by my training, what I needed more than anything was a shower.

And so Star and I departed, discreetly making sure we got an elevator devoid of anyone else. It was a bit strange, since neither of us had anything to say, but we might have. If nothing else, there was something very reassuring about being on the same, cautious wavelength as her.

As the elevator doors opened, the faint scent of sweat touched my nostrils. My eyes followed the trail, straight to my door, where Night was standing.

He knocked. “Um… Dusky? You in there?”

I trotted up behind him, expecting him to turn. He didn’t. Trying not to be too amused by his preoccupation, I spoke as gently as I could. “Oh, hi, Night. Did you need something?”

He froze, but at least he didn’t jump. “I… um, wh-whoa… I, um… y-yeah! Hey, Dusky. I was, um... downstairs, looking at all the stuff and, um… well, I had... we had this idea.”

A sigh escaped his lips as he tensed up.

With a smile, I met his eyes. “Oh? Find something interesting?”

“Kind of? It, um… Mahogany and Terra and—” he paused, then started a little as his eyes fell on Star, “—a-and Merri and Starshadow, of course! Well, um… they want to do a little get-together. Just… all of us, there to hang out. So… I, um… I wanted to ask you.”

I fought back a frown as I tried to parse Night’s meandering thoughts. Normally, it wasn’t a problem, but this time, I had to work to uncross his two lines of thought. There was something oddly charming about him being so nervous about proposing a date that wasn’t a date as a follow-up to us already agreeing to go on a date.

Sneaking a glance back at Star, I wondered if she was miffed that Night had to throw her and Merriweather in as last-minute additions. She seemed more amused than anything.

Meeting Night’s eye again, I let out a giggle. “That sounds like fun. Count me in.”

He relaxed a little. “Okay! Um... Terra said she'd get a private room and, um... Mahogany said he had drinks taken care of... so... they said I just needed to be sure to bring you.”

I couldn’t help but grin. Terra was clearly feeling better if she was back to the meddling game. Still, if we were to call this a proper first date, we needed some one-on-one time.

“How thoughtful. Do you want to go out and get some food before we meet up with them?”

“Err... d-do I? I mean, yeah! Sure! Mahogany had mentioned drinks, but nothing to eat. A quick bite would probably be for the best if we'll be spending the night in the bar. Did, um... you have anywhere in mind?”

I shook my head. I’d only seen the resort restaurant so far and that certainly wasn’t going to be my first choice. “I haven't really looked around town yet.”

“I... I haven't, either.” Night frowned. “I guess we'll just have to find somewhere close. Wherever you'd prefer.”

That was probably more or less for the best. Myrtail was still fairly foreign to me and I wanted to make sure our choice of eatery was safe before I let my guard down at all. “I'll find us somewhere nice. We can head out a little earlier, before we meet everyone at the bar.”

Merriweather poked her head into the hall. “Did somepony say 'Bar'? Count me in!”

The barest of smirks crossed Star’s lips. “If you heard that, then you know we were invited, Sister.”

“Right! Perfect! We'll see ya then!” And then Merriweather was gone, the door shutting loudly behind her.

Night’s ears drooped. “She, um... said she wasn't going to listen in…”

“Sister sometimes has difficulty with her word.” Star shook her head before turning toward her room. “We shall see you both later.”

“Have a good night, Star.” I gave her a quick wave, then looked back at Night. “I'm going to shower off and get ready for bed.”

“Um... yeah. Me too.” His cheeks flushed.

A thud, followed by a muffled “Moof!”, drew my eyes back to Star. She stood outside her door, tapping her hoof, until it finally moved aside.

Merriweather appeared again, rubbing her head with a forehoof. When Star gave her a stern look, she batted her eyes. “What? He said he'd be more nervous if I was standing there listening in! What?”

Star sighed. “Come, Merriweather. Leave them be for tonight.”

“Fiiiine! I already learned what I needed to know, anyway~.” Merriweather winked at Night with all the subtlety of a neon sign. I smirked after her until her door was completely closed.

Night gave me a sheepish look, his face even redder than before. “A-all right, then. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” I said, pushing my door open. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “I'll come get you once I'm ready.”

“Then… i-it's a date.”

I grinned. “So it is.”

---

This is silly.

The thought rolled through my mind several more times as Merriweather and I left the first restaurant—and this was just the start of the day. There was just something extremely awkward about scoping out a restaurant for escape routes and suspicious factors. Although, at least I had the excuse of inquiring about the menu; this particular establishment happened to specialize in quesadillas.

As we reached the side of the road, I paused, taking a moment to calm myself. My eyes drifted over the mix of shops and restaurants. It was a tourist strip, all right, with the building line running right up to the horizon—and likely far beyond.

However, the street was currently quite quiet, which was hardly a surprise. We were wandering around a good two hours before noon, so the crowds would all be at the beach.

I stole a glance at Merriweather. “Thanks again for coming along.”

She grinned. “You say it like it’s a chore to check out all these cool places.”

“Well, it’s not that. It’s… you don’t think I’m being excessive?”

“Maybe, if I was a normal Equestrian talking to another normal Equestrian. But you’re practically an honourary Ostfriesen.”

“Um, thanks? I think?” As it occurred to me that, once upon a time, I would have been thrilled beyond imagination by such a designation, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter chuckle.

“Back home, we think of that kind of stuff all the time. It doesn’t come up very often in the city, but it’s just a thing we’re trained for. Sure, you didn’t grow up with our regimen, but you’ve obviously seen things that give you a reason to think that way. So if you ask me, you get a pass.” She smiled at me, but it wasn’t the usual, goofy smile. It was more in line with the seriousness I’d seen in Fetlock.

With a nod, I returned the smile. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help~.”

We continued from restaurant to restaurant. As I realized just how similar most of the layouts were, both inside and outside, my quest became more about the food and presentation.

There was a Griffon establishment that had enough gold decor to rival those in Canterlot, but their specialty was fish, something clearly not suited to the average pony’s tastes. Another served artisan salads under a heavy palm tree theme. One that particularly caught my eye was a pasta house with a house and hearth atmosphere.

We’d just finished up with a gourmet hayburger joint when I noticed that the street was suddenly overflowing with tourists. Somehow, I’d lost track of time. In any event, we’d covered enough restaurants that I felt confident calling off the hunt.

As I turned to survey the crowd, I spotted a familiar sun hat.

“Excuse me a second.”

Merriweather’s eyes followed mine. “Huh. Okay. I’ll just be checking out the scenery~.”

Mint Creme stared at me as I approached. It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I realized she might think I wasn’t happy with her. I stopped to wave, feeling a bit better when she replied in kind.

“Hi.” I put on my best friendly smile.

“Uh, hi?” Mint Creme tilted her head. “How did you find me?”

I tapped a hoof to my head. “Not exactly inconspicuous.”

“Oh. I guess it is a little big, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I gave her a short nod, my mind focused on choosing my next words as carefully as possible. “Anyway, that’s not why I came over. I’ve been thinking and, I’m willing to talk about the thing, if you’ll do me a favour.”

Mint Creme’s expression brightened. “Name it.”

“I want you to tell me about you and Night.”

“What, why?” She frowned.

“Like it or not, I’m in the middle of… whatever it is that's hanging over you and your family. If I’m to trust you—any of you—I need to understand what I’m getting into.”

“I…” Mint Creme’s ears drooped in a way that reminded me of a certain stallion.

“It doesn’t need to be the whole story, just enough to help me understand. I’m just not in a position to let this kind of thing slide.” I looked her straight in the eyes.

She nodded, determination filling her face. “All right. When do we talk?”

“Tomorrow, at thirteen hundred hours. Meet me in the lobby and we’ll go from there.”

---

Supper was quickly approaching and I needed to get moving. I stole one last look at the mirror, paying particular attention to my forelock. Despite the sheer volume of things Twilight had packed for me, not a single one was a nice outfit or accessory. Not that that was a surprise—I was going into hiding, not sight-seeing.

With a quick trip to the gift shop and some effort, I had been able to rig up a non-tacky hairband fitted with a plastic lily. It’s certainly not what I’d prefer to wear on a first date, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Thanks to the hairband, I could leave my elastic behind, letting the rest of my mane fall semi-free, without fear of, should a situation arise, it getting in my face. And, of course, the whole ensemble wouldn’t be complete without my scarf.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I glanced at Merriweather, who grinned back.

“You suuuuuure you don’t want me to come along~?” she asked for the fifth time that night.

“I just need a safe zone, not a chaperone.”

“You sure you’re sure? I hear that Night fellow is a pretty rowdy guy~.” Merriweather’s grin grew wider.

The only appropriate response to that was to stick out my tongue.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll be waiting around the corner. But you’d better tell me all about it afterward~.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’ll see.”

The hall was empty as I made my way to Night’s door. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. It wasn’t because of the date itself, but because of the step we were taking. To take a friendship beyond a friendship always risks the whole thing. I could only hope my gut was right.

I took a deep breath and knocked. Unsurprisingly, the door opened immediately, revealing a grinning Night. What was surprising, was that he wore his flight satchels. While the night was going to be relatively informal, I couldn’t help but think he was planning something.

“H-hi, Dusky!” he half-said, half-exclaimed.

“Hi, Night.” I gave him a smile of my own. “Ready to eat?”

He nodded several times. “A-absolutely!”

“Let’s get going, then.” I trotted toward the elevator, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Night was following.

He shifted side-to-side as we waited for the car to arrive. “S-so, um, you found someplace to eat?”

The doors slid open and I nodded as I stepped inside. “I think I found someplace fairly simple. Hopefully that's all right with you.”

“Y-yeah. Simple is good. Whatever sounds good to you.” His eyes wandered the elevator.

“I'd prefer not to pay a small fortune for Canterlot portions.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “I found someplace a little homelier.”

After some debate, I’d settled on the pasta house. It sounded good, was a rather substantial type of food and was only a couple blocks away from the hotel. Plus, there was just something about the atmosphere that was relaxing.

The restaurant was even more inviting at night, with the stylized metal lanterns above the windows and the door lighting it up like a beacon. A softer, warmer glow filled the interior, spilling out just enough to give passersby a small taste of what they could have. This was accompanied by the faint, but sweet, scent of alfredo.

While both the street and restaurant were bustling, we didn’t have to wait for a table. We even got one right in front of a thick, stone hearth. Almost as soon as we sat down, a rather proper looking mare in a blazer came by and took our drink order. Night, of course, went for tea, while I settled for water; there would be plenty enough cider waiting for me later.

“I... you... Dusky. You, um... you look good tonight. Y-your mane, that is. It's... nice.” Night fumbled with the menu as he squirmed under his own words.

“Thanks, Night.” I looked him over, searching for something to compliment in turn. While he hadn’t dressed up, his coat and forelock were obviously groomed. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

He turned beet red as he let out a nervous laugh. “I... I barely did anything. But, thank you.”

Our drinks arrived and as Night sipped his tea, he stared into the fire. After a few moments, he looked at me. “This is nice.”

I leaned back, shifting my weight so that I sank a little further into my cushion. It certainly was more comfortable than I expected. “Just being in here makes me feel like I'm relaxing on a sofa.”

Night mirrored my movement, and as he let out a chuckle, I swore I could see the tension floating out of his body. “Not fancy at all. We should tell Terra about this place.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Yeah. Finally, a place where we can get her to eat without being on the verge of a heart attack.”

He was suddenly quiet, his eyes drifting back to his flight satchel. “I... I, um... I wanted to do something else for you. I mean... it's our first d-date. So…”

Hurriedly pulling one of the bags closer, he dug his muzzle in and produced a small box. I stared at it as he pushed it across the table.

“You got me a present?” I raised an eyebrow as I placed a hoof on the box. It couldn’t be my knee-jerk reaction—it was too big for a ring; plus Night wasn’t that impulsive and forward. Yet, I couldn’t fully shake that nagging feeling.

He shrank a little. “Its um... its nothing special. Just, something I found.”

“Still, you shouldn't have.”

His ears turned down as he looked away. “I know... just... it made me think of you.”

Slowly, carefully, still unsure what it could be, I opened the lid and instantly felt bad. It was a sand dollar, not unlike many that I’d seen, but also with no equal. It was a pleasing white, its etched, five-point flower almost perfectly proportioned.

He continued talking as I examined the sand dollar. “I found it on the beach. And, that was a first. The beach, and ocean. The world. It's something beautiful, and there's so much I haven't seen. That's just a little piece of it. So... I wanted to share it with you. As... as a thank you.”

“It’s very pretty. Thank you, Night.” I smiled as wide as I could. He didn’t deserve that kind of suspicion.

“L-like I said... just something I found. I mean, it's probably nothing to you. I'm sure you've been to beaches before.” Night was looking everywhere other than at me.

“I have.” I eyed the sand dollar again. “But every beach is different. And everyone sees them differently.”

He perked up. “Oh? Really? Well, what was it like for you? This beach. Or... or the first beach you ever saw?”

I tried to think back, but I’d seen so many beaches, that I really wasn’t sure which was the first—or even many details, for that matter. “Well, I was just a foal, so I don't remember much, but I think it involved a lot of splashing.”

Amusement washed over Night’s face, eventually overflowing into a short chuckle. “It's hard to picture you like that, just... an over-excited filly.”

“I guess that’s just how curious, young people do it.” I smirked. “Just try it out and see what happens.”

The server returned again, steam still coming out of each of our bowls. As I worked on my penne, I watched Night dig into his linguine. Now seemed about the right time to start asking the more personal stuff.

“So, tell me a bit more about yourself, Night. Besides your Dad, I don't know much about your family. What are they like?”

“My... family? Well... I mean, you met my Dad. He's fine. So's my Mom. And... my sisters are... complicated.” His ears fell a little further with each word.

I tilted my head. “How so?”

“Well... I was the youngest, and the only colt. And... kind of a waste.”

“Night?” I raised an eyebrow. Seemed the wounds were already much deeper than I’d originally thought.

He shook his head, continuing as though he hadn’t heard me. “I mean... Sun was already moved out when I was born. Mint was always my friend, but once she joined the Guard, I barely saw her... and Diamond and Spring didn't want me around.”

Definitely deeper than I thought. If he and Mint Creme were so close, why did she react so negatively? I forgot about my pasta entirely as my focus turned to Night. “They didn't?”

“Well, that's what I thought. But... that night. When you got...” he trailed off before I could interrupt him. From then on, his words were more carefully placed. “... i-injured... Spring was there. She said they all missed me.”

I smiled as reassuringly as I could. “Aw, I guess that's the thing about family. Even if they're rough on you at times, they still love you.”

“Y-yeah... I suppose... I kinda miss them too. I didn't realize it until I saw Spring again.” A smile crept across his face, but quickly fell away. “But, I don't know if I can ever open that door again.”

This was my chance. “Well, why not? You said Spring came looking for you, right? What about Mint? You said you two were always friends.”

“I made a promise to her... the day she left to join the Guard. One day, I promised I'd join her, and we'd fight side by side.” He tried to shrug, but his shoulders fell far below where they started.

I chewed on a penne, trying to come up with just the right words to give him a prod without cutting him. “Do you think she holds that against you? You know your father doesn't.”

“I... don't know,” he mumbled. “Maybe someday…”

… you’ll ask? I nodded. “I'm sure you will. You're stronger than you think.”

I watched him carefully. Maybe he wasn’t Guard material, but he had the conviction to stand by his friends and that’s a quality not everyone has. Now, if only he could apply it to his past.

Slowly, but surely, he smiled. “Dusky... I, um... I'm glad that I met you.”

I met his with one of my own. “Likewise, Night Light.”

23 - Uncertainties

The bar felt strange—and not just because the crowd in an expensive hotel bar was predictably sparse. From the moment Night and I walked in, it was quite plain that the idea was to act like we were at the Seapony and nothing was wrong. But nothing, especially something so overly classy, can replace the Seapony and there was just this general unease that hung over us. It wasn’t so much being on edge, as a sort of restless fatigue.

Mahogany was buried deep in his drinks, as though pushing the ‘normality’ harder would allow him to will everything to be right. Terra’s mind was definitely somewhere else, as, while she took nominal sips, her first glass wasn’t even empty. I wondered if it was her business or a certain little filly that had taken over her thoughts. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Star was about as stern as ever. And, well, Night was being Night. Only Merriweather was making a serious effort to talk. While it was appreciated, as her tales of beach leering reached her admiration of the fifth or sixth butt, it was clear she was a bit short on material.

I found that the half-familiarity sent my mind adrift, back home to the mess that would be waiting. Years on the weather team and I’d barely had more than half a dozen sick days total, nevermind no-showing. With our time in Myrtail still indefinite, the chances of explaining such a long absence without revealing everything, yet not getting fired, were pretty much nil. As much as I trusted Rainbow Dash as a boss, her reputation for acting rashly killed any inclination to let her in on the truth. What’s worse, Night and Mahogany were practically in the same situation. And while Terra didn’t have to worry about that, there’s no way her absence could be good for business.

Even if all that somehow worked out, there was still the issue of the Cartel. Noble Light’s internal cleaning would come too late. While the fact that they didn’t ambush me in my home made me reasonably sure that they didn’t have my address or, possibly even know that I lived in Ponyville, it was still my last known location. I’d have to be more vigilant than ever.

I briefly considered moving. But aside from a backwater where I could disappear entirely, there wasn’t any place I could consider more advantageous than one under the watchful eye of Canterlot. If the Cartel had spies in the Guard at that moment, then they’d surely know that their little operation had made far too much noise. If I was lucky, perhaps they would decide that keeping up the chase was just too much effort.

It took a full ten minutes before I really broke out of my daydreaming. Growing fed up with both wasting the others’ efforts, as well as the dark cloud hanging over us, I decided I needed to focus on something else. Anything else.

That’s when the sound of the bar’s gramophone reached me. I don’t even remember what song it was, just that it had a catchy beat. A bout of silliness, likely fueled by my extra cider, took hold and I started humming along. Merriweather joined in immediately, with Terra and Mahogany coming in shortly thereafter. I think I even caught a few notes from Star and Night.

---

While I might have stayed up a bit late, the night’s comradery had left me in good enough spirits that I could simply shrug off the fatigue. As the elevator doors slid open, I even found myself grinning.

I actually had to look around for once, since Mint Creme had ditched her sun hat. She was waiting by the reed furniture, almost in the exact same spot as when I’d first seen her. A slight frown creased her face as she rocked from side to side—a stark contrast from previous days. Apparently, the prospect of talking about her family made her more apprehensive than having a knife held to her throat. While I felt bad, I couldn’t help but let a small smirk creep up my lips.

As I approached, I noted one more change: her lyre cutie mark was gone, replaced by a shield with mint leaves blooming from its center. I debated whether such a perfect fit made it more or less credible. With a mental shrug, I trotted up to her; by this point, her identity was far from my chief concern.

She didn’t seem to notice me. When this went on for several seconds, I cleared my throat and said, “Hi.”

“Oh!” Mint Creme snapped to, her eyes darting down the hall before fixing on me. “Hello.”

I supposed she was still trying to avoid Night, which only made me want to hear her side of the story even more. Which then made me wonder if she remembered the promise. If she did, I had a feeling she didn’t hold it against him.

“Do you need a moment?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m ready.”

“All right, this way, then.” I led her back to the elevators and took us up to the second floor. I’d booked one of the small meeting rooms about as last-minute as I dared. I still needed to be careful, but it wouldn't have done me any good to be stuck with no room at all. Truth be told, at this point, I probably could have used one of the hotel rooms, but that risked a run-in with Night when neither sibling was ready.

Because we needed another reminder that we were at a resort, the meeting room furniture was pretty much the same as those from the lobby. Even the meeting table was just a larger version of the reed-themed coffee table.

There were no windows, something that I wasn’t too broken up about. In fact, the fewer ways to be seen, the better. However, apparently the hotel felt bad enough to hang a large picture of a beach on the wall facing the door.

As soon as we were seated, Mint Creme slipped something out from under her wing and set it in the middle of the table. She gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry for not showing this before. I, uh, forgot it in my room.”

It was a small emblem of an engraved phoenix with a starburst behind it. I stared at it, but whatever importance it held eluded me. “Um, what is this?”

Confusion washed over Mint Creme’s face. “It’s my dad’s seal. To prove my identity?”

I shook my head. “Makes sense, but this is the first I’ve heard of this.”

“Huh? But Dad said you’d know.”

“Maybe he told everyone else and they forgot to tell me,” I pondered.

“Then why didn’t your friend say anything?”

It did seem odd that Star didn’t bring it up during our initial encounter. While she would have been too late to avert the confrontation, it still would have been more decisive than the letter. Of course, that wouldn’t have addressed my concerns about the Light family baggage, but still. Then it hit me.

“Oh! I know. Since we still didn’t trust you, she probably didn’t want to reveal that there was even a cue.”

The sheepishness returned to Mint Creme’s face. “Oops.”

I shook my head. “It’s all water under the bridge now.”

“Thanks.” Her embarrassment melted away, leaving a warm smile. “I guess I promised to tell you about my family, didn’t I?”

I nodded.

“All right. Just… don’t think any less of us, okay? We didn’t mean for it to end up like this.”

While I was certain Mint Creme meant for the disclaimer to be reassuring, it did just the opposite. But she deserved a chance to explain herself, so I pushed my reservations aside.

“Okay.”

“Night Light is… complicated. There was always a lot of pressure on him. From Dad, from Diamond.” Her voice wavered a little as she looked away. “From me.”

“Diamond?” I asked. Of course, I already knew that she was Night’s sister, but this seemed like the best way to probe for more information.

“Diamond Wing, our sister. She was the middle child, so I guess she always felt she had to prove herself, to stand out. Every scheme or stunt was more brash than the last, and Spring and Night often got drafted into helping her. I found out later that Night always got the least dignified tasks, with Diamond asserting that those tasks belonged to the youngest. It didn’t help that Night had a bad habit of just silently accepting his role, as though he didn’t want to get her in trouble.” Mint Creme let out a heavy sigh. “She regrets it now, of course. I mean, she wasn’t the only one who gave him a hard time now and then, but we all thought it was kid stuff. By the time we realized how he felt, the damage was already done.”

I nodded, feeling bad that I’d have to press her further. “And you? I’m guessing it was something more specific than just ‘giving him a hard time.’”

“Yes, but I don’t really know. He was a really quiet colt and, like I said, he made a habit of not speaking up. If I had to guess, I think he thinks I abandoned him.”

“Abandoned? Why would he think that?” I leaned forward. This was definitely shaping up to be nothing like what Night feared.

“Well, I was the one who usually bailed him out whenever Diamond went too far. On top of that, he looked up to me in a lot of ways. Come to think of it, I wonder if it wasn’t because I was following in Dad’s footsteps. Eventually, I had to leave home for basic. I’m not entirely sure about specific incidents, but I know that while I was gone, Mom and Sun were fighting a lot, and everyone else kind of fell through the cracks.

“Sun is another one of your sisters?”

“Yeah, she’s the oldest. Then me, Diamond, then Spring. Night is younger than all of us.”

I nodded. “So Diamond Wing pretty much had free reign.”

“More or less.”

“But that’s her fault, not yours.”

Mint Creme shrugged. “Maybe not, but there’s more to it than that.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Our family has a long history with the Guard. Dad isn’t the first and I probably won’t be the last. I guess Night got it into his head that he needed to be part of that.” Mint Creme let out a long sigh. “I still remember when I went off to basic, he made this promise to me that we would be in the Guard together. ‘See you at the barracks,’ he’d said. Of course, basic wasn’t for him. Most of us already knew this.”

“But if you already knew,” I tilted my head, “why did you let him go?”

“I can’t speak for everyone else, but there was a part of me that hoped he’d succeed, anyway. It wasn’t about the family history. It was that whenever he spoke of the Guard, he had such confidence, a rarity in his colthood. I guess I didn’t want to take that away from him.”

While my knee-jerk reaction was to be critical based on the end result, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I would have done the same thing. There’s just something about telling someone, ‘You’re going to fail at your passion.’ that seemed exceptionally cruel.

Mint Creme stared at the wall. “He dropped out and, without so much as a word, transferred to the weather program at Cloudsdale University. I kept meaning to talk to him about it, but by the time I was able to get leave, it was too late. The day before I came home, he just disappeared and cut all ties.”

I blinked. It like such an extreme reaction, but after putting everything together, it was clear that all that miscommunication had silently built up into a powder keg. The question, then, was just how much I should meddle in this whole mess. I decided to err on the side of caution.

“Was it really that bad?”

“He must have thought it was.”

“And you think he still feels the same way?”

Mint Creme’s eyes wandered over to the beach picture. “He hasn’t come back to see us yet.”

I thought about mentioning the meeting with Noble Light, but that was more of an emergency situation. Night needed to do it without any other excuse. That didn’t mean I was out of approaches, though. “Isn’t this what caused this problem in the first place?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Just assuming he felt a certain way. It’s half of why Night was left alone until he reached breaking point, isn’t it?”

She sat there thinking for what must have been at least ten seconds. “You’re right.”

I looked her straight in the eye. “You said you wanted to talk to him. Maybe it’s a little late coming and maybe the circumstances aren’t exactly pleasant, but isn’t this basically a golden second opportunity?”

“Yeah. If Dad hadn’t sent me…” Mint Creme froze, realization washing over her face, which was then followed by a flood of laughter. “Dad, you old war horse!”

“What?”

The look she gave me was almost apologetic. “He must have had the same idea. It’s just like him to lump things together like that.”

Mixed feelings clashed as I held back a frown. Part of me was happy, because this suited my purpose. The other was annoyed that Noble Light had taken such liberties with my situation. But pragmatically speaking, I could think of no better alternative. I smirked. Might as well make the best of it.

“Well, then that’s two-to-one, isn’t it? What do you say?”

Mint Creme shook her head. “I… I’ll definitely have to give it more thought. I don’t think I can give you an answer right now.”

“Fine by me. No one wants to force anyone into anything. That would solve little.”

“I guess you’re right.” She digested her thoughts a moment more. “Well, that’s about the long and short of it. Your turn?”

I nodded. Telling this story was starting to get tiresome, but a deal was a deal. My tale didn’t get much farther than Light Horn’s ultimatum before Mint Creme started asking questions.

“Whoa, what? He threatened you? We don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.” She tensed up, as though Light Horn had personally offended her. I supposed he had, in a roundabout way, but I wasn’t so sure that that kind of thing was always out of the question. However, in this context, I had to agree that it was highly suspicious.

I nodded. “It definitely did feel off. Yet, he was persuasive, unnaturally so. It wasn’t until I found out about the enchantments that it all made sense. In the end, I decided to take him to an old warehouse where we could talk in private.”

“Enchantments?” Alarm flashed across Mint Creme’s face. I did my best to reiterate what Star had said about their illusionary and charm properties. All the while, Mint Creme’s face dropped into a deeper and deeper scowl. Eventually, that reached a point where it broke away into determination.

She listened carefully as I laid out the ambush and its resulting carnage—there was no reason to hold back on the details this time. In fact, it was probably better if I didn’t leave anything out.

“This has all the earmarks of a Leaf Sister hit, except…” Mint Creme pondered.

“Except what?”

“Disturbing levels of infiltration aside, the part where they demanded that you give up. Once their target is vulnerable, they normally don’t bother with words.”

“That’s probably because they have a particularly big beef with me. Enough that they were ordered to capture me, although that probably got forgotten once their plan really fell apart.”

Mint Creme stared. “A big beef? You?”

I took a deep breath, unsure if I really wanted to get this deep into my past with Mint Creme. “I made… someone important angry. That’s why they hunt me whenever they can. My run-in with them in Fetlock only caused an unfortunate renewal of their efforts.”

“Autumn Leaf…” she mouthed. In retrospect, with insider information, it wouldn’t have been hard to make the connection. At least, I knew that if I were Mint Creme, some nobody winning a life-and-death fight with a Leaf Sister would be the first thing I’d think of.

With a sigh, I nodded. There was no use denying it. “Yeah. They’re not reckless enough to ruin themselves finding me, but since her sister is out to get me, they also won’t pass up an opportunity.”

Mint Creme gave me this look, like my misfortune was somehow her fault. “I’m… sorry. We’ll find a way to root out this infiltration. And we’ll do what we can to protect you. The Guard is already placing a priority on the Cartel, but they’re smart and they’ve got a head start. I promise you, we’ll win this.”

I wanted to believe her. She seemed sincere enough, maybe even more so than the other legitimate Guards I’d met. But she was just one mare against a host of shadows and her allies were an uncertainty.

“I hope so.”

24 - Regrowth

As Mint Creme and I parted ways, I turned my mind to the next task. It was only then that it dawned on me that I didn’t have one. After figuring out the Light family, my next major concerns all involved Ponyville. Beyond my previous speculation, there wasn’t really much I could do.

My hooves grew restless and, before I knew it, I was already headed toward the beach. I wasn’t sure what I wanted—just something to ward off the homesickness and keep me from brooding. Another, more leisurely, stroll along the beach was a possibility. Or perhaps Merriweather could hold my scarf while I took a short dip.

I’d just reached the end of the path when I spotted what looked like Terra standing at one of the shoreline bars. Squinting, I briefly wondered if I was staring at some other green unicorn, but there was no denying the red squeaky hammer on her hindquarters.

I felt bad for leaving Merriweather behind again. However, the last thing I needed was for Terra to get even more skittish. Whatever she was doing, it must have been very important for her to brave ‘the fancy’. Not only that, but whatever was in her glass wasn’t whiskey.

A magazine was spread out in front of her; judging by the plethora of plant photos, it was some kind of gardening publication.

“Hi, Terra,” I said as I approached.

She stiffened before her head snapped to face me, her magic not-so-subtly shuffling the magazine shut. “Oh, uh… hi, Dusky! What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question, since, you know, the whole ‘fancy’ thing.” Trotting up beside her, I stole a look at the magazine cover—and was treated to a photo of a couple muscly stallions in provocative poses. Foxymare, it read, complete with promises of secret facts about ‘hunky guys’, as they put it. My gaze must have lingered a bit too long, as Terra’s eyes also drifted down to the cover. I gave her a sideways glance, which she quickly met. I raised an eyebrow.

“Just beach things, because not doing those on a beach would be a waste, right?” She let out a nervous laugh before taking a long sip from her pina colada. The scent was quite strong and I had to double-take, as I didn’t catch a single whiff of alcohol.

“I didn’t know that gardening was a beach activity.”

“Gardening?” She asked, running a hoof over one of the stallions. “I’m just looking at some hot bods.”

“Terra, there’s a beach right behind you.”

“Just because it’s a beach, doesn’t mean there’s going to be hot guys there!”

I stole a glance behind me and instantly caught sight of a red-and-white beach ball, high above the crowd. Predictably, it guided my gaze to the muzzle of a sleek, toned stallion and his similarly built buddies, as they butted the ball around. “Okay, that’s technically true, but rather unlikely—and patently false in this situation. Unless you’re not into the athletic type?”

She slumped. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’ve never done more than a potted flower or two, and this whole thing is so much bigger, and needs to be perfect.”

“For Aster?”

Terra’s eyes went wide.

“Come on, Terra. We talked about this.” I sighed. “Even if you were drunk. Besides, you hang out enough that half of Ponyville must think you’re her sister or something.”

She laughed again and this time she didn’t even sound nervous. “You’re right. I… I don’t know what it is about her. I’ve never had anypony look up to me like that and it really makes me want to do a good job.”

I nodded. “And that’s what you’re planning when you get back?”

“Yeah. Whenever we get back.” She stared at the magazine.

“Sorry about this whole mess.”

“No.” Terra shook her head. “This is just one interruption. The rest has been like… finding myself again.”

Leaning over, I wrapped her in a tight hug. “Hey. I’m here for you, just like you’ve been for me. Once we get back, we’ll figure something out and you’ll both be gardening before you know it.”

“I’d appreciate it. But while we wait…” She grinned. “... why don’t you tell me about your date.”

Mirroring her smile, I cocked my head. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”

Before I could say anything further, out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mahogany and Merriweather making their way over. Mahogany was in the lead, which, given his uneven trot, probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Sorry, I tried to stop this ruffian, but he said it was important~.” Merriweather grinned.

“Psh, like the Princess of Booze would stop her subjects from boozin’.” Mahogany waved his hoof and promptly ordered from the bar.

I raised an eyebrow. “What does that make you? The Booze Baron?”

“The Princess of Booze?” Terra was right up beside Mahogany, staring him down, before he could answer me. “That’s my title!”

“Nuh, uh. You can’t just call yourself ‘princess’ and be one. ‘Sides, she’s the one who buys all booze. How you gonna keep up with that?”

A spark lit up Terra’s eyes and she pulled back like she’d been given a static shock. She lifted her head as a familiar grin, one I hadn’t seen in ages, spread across her face. “Yes, yes. I see it now. She is the Princess of Booze, but you aren’t the Baron. You’re her prince.”

“What?!” Mahogany and Merriweather shouted in unison. I didn’t know what was weirder: being an outside observer to Terra’s matchmaking or the fact that Merriweather’s first instinct wasn’t to flirt.

I placed a hoof around Terra’s neck and smirked. “Feeling better?”

She gave me a sidelong glance. “Much.”

“Go easy on them. They’re not used to it.”

“Oh, once they realize I’m right, they’ll know it’s all worth it.”

“Assuming you’re right.”

“Hey, I got it right with you, didn’t I?” Terra grinned as she leaned up against me.

“You got lucky, that’s all. Heck, we’ve only had one date.”

“Being right is being right.” She stuck out her tongue.

“So what about the three dozen other people you tried to set me up with?”

She waved a hoof. “Not important.”

Mahogany reached over and prodded Terra. She jumped with a yelp, just about bowling me over in the process. He narrowed his eyes. “Hey, we’re still here, y’know.”

“Welcome to my world.” I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind giving it a try~.” Merriweather’s gaze slowly, pointedly slid down Mahogany’s chest.

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nothing ‘gainst ya, Merri. But I don’t do dates or love.” He took a long sip from his drink.

Without missing a beat, Merriweather shrugged. “Suit yourself. Offer’s on the table if you change your mind~.”

“Speaking of your first date...” Terra grinned.

“Yashure yer okay with it?” Mahogany finished.

“Hey! That’s not what I was going to ask.”

He gave her a severe look—a drunken one that lacked focus, but a severe one, nonetheless. “This ‘smore important.”

Terra’s only response was to make a pouty face.

“Yes.” I raised an eyebrow. “If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be dating.”

“Just makin’ sure you didn’t think you hadta.” Mahogany glanced at Terra.

I sighed. “Okay, look. We talked it out and agreed to give it a chance. Not because of the whims of any one person.”

Terra fluttered her eyes. “But what about—”

“No.”

---

I eventually left the Booze Regency. It was still too early in the day for alcohol; too early for me, at least. I wandered aimlessly, stealing glances at the rolling blue whenever the crowd thinned out. In the end, I didn’t make it too far. My split attention wasn’t really conducive to enjoying the beach.

However, I was nearly back at the hotel when my eyes fell on a small, raised patio, which held a cluster of rectangular picnic tables. While they were more utilitarian than the furniture inside the hotel proper, they certainly weren’t shy about their big, blue-and-white umbrellas. Several of the platform’s siblings dotted the hillside where the other paths neared the hotel. I hadn’t paid them much mind before, but the longer I thought, the more I realized this was just what I needed. From there, I had a much better view of the crowd, even if it placed the ocean further away. At least I could see more of the sky.

Merriweather plopped down beside me. “So, this the kind of place you usually go?”

“Not really. Resorts tend to be outside my budget. But even when it comes to less-extravagant beaches, I normally need something more than nice scenery.”

“What? You’re telling me you couldn’t watch this scenery all day~?” Her eyes fell on a passing stallion’s rear.

“Nope.” I gave her as deadpan a look as I could before sticking out my tongue. “Maybe an hour or two. I’m not insatiable, unlike you and Terra.”

She laughed, long and heartily. “I’m not insatiable. Just… mostly insatiable~.”

“Anyway, I guess you could call me more of a ‘buried treasure’ mare—unique landmarks and objects and the like. Places that are too similar tend to wear thin.”

“Then don’t ever go traveling with Sis’. It’s all monsters and role models with her. You’d be bored out of your skull.”

I smirked. “Somehow, I doubt it’s the boredom that would put me off.”

By now, the sun was just kissing the horizon, creating a soothing purple where orange met blue. I wondered where the day had gone, but not being out and about until the afternoon really should have left that as no surprise. Regardless, I figured I could at least enjoy the sunset.

“Hmmm.” Merriweather stood. “Those drinks are catching up with me. You gonna be okay while I hit the fillies’ room?”

I nodded. “Just don’t forget the meeting spot.”

“Of course. Seeya in a few~.” With a wave, she was off.

Even keeping an eye on the slowly dissipating crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the sun playing over them. There was just something about their orange-tinted coats shining like beacons, juxtaposed next to deep purple shadows, that felt elegant and pleasing.

A speck just over the horizon caught my eye. With the way it bobbed, it was no doubt someone flying. It was steadily approaching and I didn’t need long to realize that the shape was Night. The sun and shadows may have thrown his coat colour and silhouette off, but the cowlick sure made for easy guessing.

He landed somewhere closer to the beach—I supposed he hadn’t seen me. I debated going to the edge of the balcony to wave him over, but he started up the path that would take him right up the backside of the patio.

I heard him reach the top of the platform, but he didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him hesitating. Finally, he cleared his throat. “H-hey, Dusky, um... mind some company?”

Glancing back, I smiled. “Oh, hi, Night. Not at all. Come have a seat.”

While he did sit down, he left a space just a bit wider than two ponies between us. He squirmed, perhaps considering that the distance wasn’t enough.

Giving him an odd look, I asked, “Something wrong?”

His head turned slowly, eyes more on the space between us than me. “I… um, n-no. I… s-sorry. Just, well…”

Night slumped a bit, a long sigh escaping his lips. “I’m not very good at this.”

“It's okay, you'll get it figured out.” I tapped right beside me. “In the meantime, come sit beside me. I won’t bite.”

As he inched toward me, his eyes met mine, and he smiled. “I just… I keep thinking I’ll do something wrong.”

“You probably will.” I wondered if he realized he wasn’t the only one with that fear and I couldn’t help but giggle. Learning over, I nudged him under the chin. “And so will I. The important thing is that we learn from the mistakes when we do.”

Night exhaled shifting all the while. “That… actually makes me feel a lot better. I mean… I’m far from perfect.”

“No one is perfect.” I shivered a little, but pushed the dark thoughts aside. “And I’ve certainly learned there’s such a thing as trying too hard.”

“Trying too hard…” His gaze drifted out over the ocean. “I’ve been doing that for a long time… I… I’m sorry. I want to try my best, Dusky. But… I’ll try not to, um… try too hard.”

A somber smile touched my lips. “Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I’m happy you’re willing to try.”

Night’s eyes grew distant again. “You… you do a lot of traveling, right?”

“Every summer, give or take.”

He was suddenly thinking hard, his next question sounding like more of a stray thought. “And you always come back to Ponyville?”

“To put it simply, after a while, I start feeling a little homesick. And Ponyville is my home.” In fact, even though we hadn’t been gone that long, the barest tinge of that feeling pulled at my heart. I chalked it up to this journey being both disorienting and unplanned.

“Home?” Another thought escaped his lips.

“I spent a lot of time growing up there. As much as I like seeing the big cities and all the wonders of the world, some peace and relaxation is often just as nice.”

“B-but... what if it's not so peaceful anymore?” Night looked guilty, like it was somehow his fault that the Cartel was chasing me. “I mean, w-what if it's not safe for you there?”

I sighed. “I've considered that, but I'm not ready to give up on Ponyville just yet.”

“I... I'll stand with you, Dusky. At home, or... or away.” He took a deep breath. "There's so much I've missed. So much to see in this world."

“You've still got plenty of time.” I let myself drift up against him, just enough for me to feel the warmth of his coat. “Plus, I can be your tour guide.”

“Y-you would?” His surprise was odd. I didn’t know what else he expected.

I let out a giggle. “What, you think I'd just leave you to wander a far-off city on your own?”

His cheeks went red. “I um... I guess not. But... still, I can't think of a better way to see Equestria, than by your side.”

He pressed his body against mine, in an obvious, but not entirely successful, attempt to match my lean.

“I'm happy to hear that.” I pondered where to start. There were many places I’d always wanted to show off, but many were likely too far for his first journey.

“Oh, um…” another voice began. I had to think about it for a moment, but I quickly recognized it as Mint Creme’s. “Oh, um... excuse me, you two, um... I mean, h-hi, Night.”

Night stiffened, but didn’t turn.

Giving him another nudge under the chin, I glanced behind me. “Hi, Mint Creme.”

“M-Mint?” Night’s uncertainty was tangible.

Mint Creme’s forehoof was raised, but the look on her face told me she wasn’t sure about approaching. The fact that Night still hadn’t turned around likely wasn’t helping.

She spoke in a low voice, “I, um... yeah. Hi, err... how you doing?”

“What... wh-what do you want, Mint?”

I could practically see the words cleaving through the air in front of Mint Creme, even though I was certain Night didn’t mean it that way. Regardless, she took a step back and swallowed.

“Aw, horse feathers, Night... I... I don't want anything. I just thought I’d say hi to my favourite brother. I... I'll go.”

“I... I'm your only brother.” Night’s eyes glistened, no matter how many times he blinked. He looked up at me, the barest of smiles on his lip. “D-Dusky... I'm sorry... can you excuse me for a moment?”

Smiling as reassuringly as I could, I nodded. “Take your time.”

Mint Creme was already halfway to the door. She shook her head. “I... I shouldn't have interrupted you two... I... th-this was a bad idea, I'm sorry.”

“M-Mint. Mint, wait.” Night was on his hooves in an instant, although he took much longer crossing the patio.

She worked her mouth, though nothing came out. Night was much the same. Their long stares stretched on and on. I started to wonder if they needed more space, but there were no stairs behind me. Anything I could do would either be noisy or pass right by them—and I was afraid that if I ruined the moment, there wouldn't be any further chance of reconciliation. I didn’t dare move.

Finally, Night rushed forward and embraced his sister.

Mint Creme’s voice was barely audible as she choked out her words. "W-we've missed you, you know."

“I... I guess I missed all of you as well.” Night’s joy seemed to overflow, laughter joining his tears.

It wasn’t long before Mint Creme followed. “You guess?”

“I... I've been thinking about you a lot, lately.”

Mint Creme reached up, her hoof lingering for a few seconds before ruffling Night’s mane. “Y-yeah, me too.”

He smiled wide, eyes distant for a couple seconds. “I'm... I'm so sorry, Mint. I never meant to break my promise.”

“No, Night, I'm sorry. I never wanted to lose my brother, not for any promise.”

Night turned back to me, his body visibly shaking. “D-Dusky, this is Mint. My sister.”

“We've met.” I smiled.

“Oh, umm... right.” There was a mix of realization and confusion in his voice. “You've met?”

Mint Creme gave him a sheepish look. “There was an incident, and well, she thought that maybe I was a spy.”

“A... spy? Mint? What?” Standing stock still, Night stared.

“Well, I wasn't!” Her ears drooped. “I mean, I guess I was. You know, for Dad.”

“Oh, right.” Night sighed. “Sorry about that, Dusky.”

I smirked. “We figured it out.”

“Dad said I was the only one he could trust with this. I didn't want to upset you, Night, so I tried to stay hidden. I... I didn't know if you'd want to see me or not.”

Night slumped until he sat on the ground. “Mint, I... I really did miss you.”

Without hesitation, Mint Creme wrapped him in a hug. “You're still welcome at home, Night. Mom misses you. Me, Spring, Sun and Diamond, we all miss you.”

“Mom…” Bewilderment filled his eyes as he looked up at her. “D-Diamond... doesn't she hate me?”

Mint Creme’s laugh was more sad than amused. “Do you really think that?”

“W-well, yeah. After everything she did? She must hate me.”

“Sun and I have talked about it, and Diamond really beats herself up over it. She blames herself, though in fairness, we all took some of the blame.” She sighed, loosening her hold just enough to look Night in the eyes. “Night, just... promise me. Promise me you'll come home, at least once. Let Diamond say her piece, and let Mom know you're alright.”

“I... y-yeah. I promise, Mint. I promise.” Night spoke rather quietly, as though fighting back tears again.

“I'll hold you to this one, Night.”

“Th-then I'd best live up to it.”

Mint Creme’s gaze drifted up to the sky and mine followed. The sun was gone now, leaving only a soft purple.

After a moment, her eyes returned to us. “It's later than I thought. Night? Dusky? I'll see you two around, right?”

Night nodded. “Y-yeah, of course. Of course, Mint.”

I stepped up beside him. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Oh, uh, right. Right. Sorry! I'll catch up with you, then. You two... enjoy the rest of your night.” And with that, she scurried into the hotel.

Night’s eyes flitted over to me as he sighed. “We missed another sunset... sorry.”

I giggled. Once things had gotten rolling, it’d been far from my priority. “That's okay, we'll have more chances, I'm sure.”

“Yeah.” His voice was much lighter, matching the grin that was spreading across his face. “So we shall.”

25 - Baby Steps

Without work, or at least an itinerary of my own, the days began to blend together. I tried to keep myself busy, my training in the mornings growing longer with each day until I was practically encroaching on noon. It was then that Terra and Mahogany would finally wake. Lunch was the only real time when everyone was there there—that is, before the alcohol set in.

Evenings were typically filled with our continued efforts to treat the hotel bar like the Seapony. But with more alcohol. Since this time always fell under Merriweather’s shift, this basically left Night and I as the only ones coherent enough to converse. Sometimes we’d sneak off and have a late supper together. I’d never thought I’d find myself consistently looking forward to dating, but there it was—not that I’d ever admit it to Terra.

Otherwise, the rest of my waking hours were usually spent sitting at one of the terrace tables, continuing to salvage what I could of the view. My attention drifted away from the ocean and the beach—at least when Terra and Merriweather weren’t around.

My feathers longed for the the cool touch of the clouds, my face for the blast of wind cutting through my mane, my eyes for the panoramic view as my wings held me steady over the land below. Sure, my training involved several wing exercises, which included striking while hovering or diving, but in keeping that concealed to Terra’s alcove, that could hardly be called flight. I wanted to soar.

I marshalled my reasoning: laying low did not mean darting off into the sky. Still, even such logic was barely enough to counter the instinct taking hold of my torso, where my wings met my sides. It wasn’t painful—more like an itch that compelled me to move. I promised myself that once we were back, I’d make a trip out to Canterlot.

One afternoon, I’d chosen one of the terraces that was closest to the end of the hotel. At this time of day, these particular tables tended to be more or less deserted. But it wasn’t the solitude that I sought. No, I simply needed to shift platforms, to change the scenery, if only a little.

Star and I were seated at the middle table, both of our gazes on the horizon. It had become something of a tradition, though I wasn’t sure if she was doing it to be polite or because she had some thinking of her own to do. Given that her stare was nothing like the longing from when we’d last discussed Ostfriesen politics, I was leaning toward the former. Then again, she could just be hiding it a bit better.

We’d barely been there half an hour when a creak on the patio steps pulled my ears behind me. Star and I both turned in time to see Mint Creme practically bounding up the stairs. Her left wing was clutched tight against her body, but each time she moved, a corner of white paper poked out from beneath her plumage.

“Dusky.” She grinned.

“Yes?” There was only one thing I could think of that could elicit this kind overt joy. But I didn’t dare believe it. Not yet.

Mint Creme shifted her wing, sliding an envelope onto the table. “This is for you.”

I flipped the flap open and was treated to a stack of tickets. My heart skipped a beat. “This is…”

She nodded. “It leaves in two days. You’re in the clear.”

Finally, was my first thought. It’d been a long month—yet, I had to remind myself that for what Noble Light had set out to do, it was impressively fast. Either he cut a lot of corners or was just that brutally efficient. Given that his son’s life was on the line, I was reasonably sure it was the latter. I made a mental note never to make him angry.

A smile crept up my face. “Thanks.”

“Hey, it’s the least we can do.” She looked sheepish for a second. “You never should have had to deal with this.”

I couldn’t help but let out a low giggle before shaking my head. “Perhaps if my younger self had been smarter, you wouldn’t need to make such an apology. But that’s all in the past now.”

“I suppose. Hope things get better for you soon.”

“And for you, as well.” I nodded. “It couldn’t have been easy on you or your father.”

“No. But we’ll live.” Mint Creme glanced behind her. “Speaking of the future, I need go to talk to Night.”

“Okay. Well, until we meet again.”

“Until we meet again.” She flashed me another smile. “Oh, and, I don’t think I need to say this, but don’t hurt Night.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With a satisfied nod, Mint Creme departed.

Home. I let out a long breath, and with it, a weight that I’d long forgotten wasn’t a natural burden.

“Congratulations,” Star said, snapping me back to reality. She wore a smile broader than any I’d ever seen cross her face.

“Thanks. It… it almost feels too easy.” I pondered a second. “I suppose that’s because it’s not really over yet. But for now, I’ll take what I can get.”

She nodded. “Perhaps a celebratory drink is in order. My treat.”

With a smirk, I looked her straight in the eye. “You feeling all right?”

“What do you mean?” Star arched a brow.

My grin widened. “Celebration? Booze?”

“Hey! I will have you know that I am just as familiar with the concept of fun as my sister.”

I tried to hold my face straight. It probably helped that I was already smiling, but I still didn’t make it past ten seconds before I cracked. Star followed shortly thereafter.

---

The train platform was long—big city long. At first glance, it seemed overkill, even for a popular resort town. On the other hoof, it was a popular resort town in a location that wasn’t especially easy for everyone to reach. Longer trains would let them accommodate more tourists with fewer trips. And, of course, a place like this couldn’t have its clients just jumping off into the dirt.

Instead, the concrete was painted to look like sand with colourful beach towels scattered here and there. Each artificial towel was effectively a cutesy sort of sign, sending tourists here and there. While there were no trees on the platform itself, the station had several tall palm trees whose fronds loomed over its roof. Not to mention that the platform side had a long awning designed to look like a canopy of fronds.

On top of that, the platform was angled in just such a way as to give a perfect view of the ocean. It was a pretty old, but time-proven, strategy: get them excited coming in so that they’ll spend more bits, then remind them of what they’re leaving behind so they’ll come back next year.

While I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t exerting at least a little bit of influence on me, the main reason I wanted to come back was the unknown. The extenuating circumstances had kept me from giving Myrtail a proper exploration. Once things had cooled down enough, I wanted to see what the town really had to offer.

The sort of weary happiness that everyone wore told me that they were likely thinking similarly. Perhaps in a couple years, we could work out a group vacation. At least, that was probably about how long some of us would need to save up enough money.

Terra let out a whoop and I turned just in time to see the train pulling in.

Even though we had a private car, I still found myself gravitating to the back. Granted, it wasn't like anyone with ill intent would respect our privacy.

Night followed closely behind and I think everyone else took that as a hint to give us a bit of space. Terra flashed me a smile and a wink, to which I rolled my eyes.

Stopping in the aisle, he gave me a sheepish look. “Um, Is this seat taken?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. Seemed like I wasn’t the only one letting my habits drive me. I tapped the empty cushion. “Of course not.”

He took his time, setting his bags aside before spending several moments wriggling into the seat. “So, um... back on the train.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I gave him a smile.

As the train lurched forward, he sighed, deflating a bit. “Y-yeah. Trains.”

I leaned in and nudged him under the chin. When he didn’t look at me right away, I pressed up against his cheek. “There's a reason I'd rather fly, but that's not always an option. Besides, it’s not like trains don’t have their own advantages.”

“Well... it's not just the train.” He blushed before leaning forward to dig into his bags. He produced a decent-sized box, the kind gift shops go through hundreds of.

I peered at it, waiting to see just what he was getting at. He wasn’t as nervous as last time, so I guessed it wasn’t for me. With some effort, Night coaxed a snow globe out of the box. Several flecks of ‘snow’ lazily floated through the globe’s enclosed air. Most of it had already settled on the stereotypical beachscape, including the tiny sign that declared, ‘Myrtail Beach’. I’ve always found souvenir snow globes quite humourous, since their creators like to make them for areas that any pegasus would know better than to dump snow on.

“I bought it the other day, once I heard we were leaving.” He gave the globe a shake, a slight smile forming on his face as he watched the flecks. “It just seemed perfect for me.”

My gaze slipped down to his snowflake cutie mark and I giggled. “Never would have guessed.”

He chuckled in turn. “Maybe it is a little obvious.”

“So then, what else is bothering you?”

“It's just... going back.” His smile turned melancholic. “I'm... happy. I mean, I can't think of a time I've been happier. My time with you, catching up with Mint, the beach, all of it.”

In other words, he’d become comfortable. I leaned over, trying to smile as encouragingly as I could. But part of me was just a little wary of what he might say next.

The sadness in his smile disappeared for just a moment. “For... for as awful as the circumstances that brought us here, it's been... well, I just... I almost wish this trip wasn't ending.”

I let out a gentle giggle. “If this trip never ended, then how would you ever see any of those other places you've been wanting to see?”

Night’s mouth hung open for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Oh. Right. You're right. I guess... I mean, um... this.”

With a slow, awkward lean, he gave me an equally awkward nuzzle. “This feeling, you and I, and even my family. I... I'm afraid that once we get back, things will just go back to how they were.”

He suddenly pulled away, eyes wide. “N-not that that's a bad thing, what we had before, or who we were. I mean, that was good, and if we were just friends it'd be fine, but I l-like... this. And, what we are... um… I... I'm rambling.”

“You underestimate yourself.” A smirk crept up my lips; there was just something cute about how he had to specify that he treasured everything. I looked him straight in the eye. “We'll be the same in Ponyville as we were in Myrtail. It's tied to us, not where we are.”

“S-sorry. I'm... I'm scared, and worried, and I just... I get worked up sometimes, and I—” Night stared ahead, whatever words that had been on his tongue only continuing in his head.

I tilted my head. “Are you okay, Night?”

Night let out a laugh. “I just... I just realized what might make me feel a little better.”

“What?”

“A... a promise. Promise me you won't be a hero.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

It took me a moment to process that he’d just asked what he asked. I laughed as I replied, “And what makes you think I would try to do that?”

He scuffed his hoof. “Well... your trip to Hoofington.”

I don’t think he quite understood what I’d been getting at when I first said the phrase. Still, he had something of a point. Something in me instinctively, even readily rose to meet danger. It was never stronger than the urge to fall back, but sometimes I did worry myself.

“That's not quite the same thing, but I know what you mean.” I gave him another nuzzle. “I promise to try to stay away from danger.”

“Maybe not the same, but still. Thank you, Dusky.” He leaned in, matching my pressure. “We'll see what Ponyville and the future holds then... t-together.”

“Together.” I grinned as I stole a short peck on the cheek.

Night didn’t say anything else, but the colour flooding his face told me everything I needed to know.

---

Our arrival in Ponyville had been a bit tense, though likely needlessly so. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but some part of me assumed the Cartel would be waiting in some form. This had been rebuked by the platform being almost completely empty.

Once we were sure everything was all right, everyone had parted ways. My first stop, after checking my apartment and depositing all my luggage, had been the weather office. But it was late, Dash wasn’t in, and, unsurprisingly, I wasn’t scheduled at all.

Finally deciding that I might be better off just getting everything taken care of in the morning, I headed for the Seapony. I wasn’t sure how badly I wanted a drink, but just being there would make me feel better.

As I neared the bar, I was so lost in thought that it took me a second to realize that the approaching blue pegasus mare and orange unicorn were people I knew.

I didn’t even have a chance to open my mouth before Blaze was barraging me with questions. “Dusky! Where have you been?! You tell me to meet you here and then don’t show up? What’s the big idea?!”

My heart sank. I’d forgotten that I’d told her to stop by. What’s more, I’d disappeared for an entire month. To say she and Blizzard were concerned was most likely an understatement. “Sorry, you two. I didn’t mean to worry you. There were… complications.”

Blaze’s indignance melted into pure seriousness—I don’t know if that made me feel better or worse.

“Was is those guys from Fetlock again?” Blizzard asked, her face just as serious.

“Well, yes and no. Look, let’s talk about this inside.”

Both Blaze and Blizzard nodded, but we didn’t get to take so much as a step. The sound of rapid, four-hooved bouncing pulled each of our heads down the road. Pinkie was already upon us, her twin saddlebags practically overflowing with party supplies.

“Dusky! Dusky! Where have you been?” she shouted. “I was worried. I mean, we both were, but then Dash was just mad ‘cause you kept not showing up for work!”

She flailed her forehooves for emphasis.

I looked down. There was really nothing I could say that didn’t have a high chance of coming back to bite me in the rear. “Sorry, Pinkie. Complicated things happened. I’ll have to talk to you and Rainbow Dash about it later.”

The thought crossed my mind that I could have invited Pinkie to our impending discussion, but at that point, I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her. In the very least, I needed to consider just how much of it might make it back to Rainbow Dash.

“No. Don’t worry about Dash,” Blizzard said. When I raised an eyebrow, she winked. “I’ll explain things to her.”

“Oh? Okay!” Pinkie smiled. “Well, gotta go! Got a surprise party at Fluttershy’s! Don’t tell anyone!”

“Doesn’t that mean you shouldn’t be shouting—” Blaze began, but by then, Pinkie was already gone. She just stared.

I smirked and shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Pinkie Pie only works to her own rhythm.”

“Uh… okay.”

“So,” I said, turning back to Blizzard. “What was that about?”

“While you were gone, Canterlot took me on as part of their country-wide snow administration team. I’ve got ponies working under me now.” She gave me a meaningful look.

“Wow, well, congrats.” I smiled, though my next thoughts wiped it clean. “But you don’t have to do that for me. You just got that job.”

Blizzard shook her head. “Hey, you’ve done so much for me. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, okay. But only if you let me put some legit time in.”

She laughed. “It’s a deal.”

26 - Back to Abnormal

I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, if only internally—not even home a day and already in the back room.

As I nosed the door shut, I glanced at the rear table. Blizzard was sitting quite patiently, while Blaze was still standing, shuffling her hooves as she stared back at me.

“So, how did you two meet, anyway?” I asked, one ear to the door.

“When you didn’t show up for the third night in a row, I started asking around,” Blaze replied. “Ran into somepony else who was left behind.”

I winced before nodding. Regardless of tact, she was right. By this point, my past was haunting more than just me. “Sorry.”

Blizzard let out a soft chuckle. “If nothing else, we each got to make a new friend. And trade a couple interesting stories.”

Satisfied that no one was eavesdropping, I trotted over to the table. I looked between my two friends, who said nothing more, which gave me a pretty good idea of just which stories they had been discussing.

“Not in public, I hope.”

“Course not.” Blaze shook her head before flashing me a grin. “I was taught better than that.”

“Right.” I mustered a smile of my own. “I guess I’ll get started, then.”

Once again, I tried to keep the gory details as limited as possible. My concern was chiefly Blizzard, though Blaze wasn’t exactly a hardened veteran, either. While Blaze and I had been in a few bloody battles together, battle prowess aside, she’d shown me just how hard the results can hit her. The fact that she wasn’t peppering me with questions was a clear indication of the latter kicking in.

As I neared the end of the warehouse segment, they both grew visibly tense. This only increased with each detail, but at least Blizzard seemed to have a limit. Blaze, on the other hoof, almost looked ready to fight. If a Cartel agent had come through the door right that moment, I’d bet she would have been on them faster than Rainbow Dash joining a race.

By the time I’d finished skimming over my blackout, Blaze was pawing at the ground. She looked at me, a fire in her eyes much like when we had first met—when she’d thought she was championing the safety of her hometown.

“I wished I’d been there,” she growled.

I shook my head. “No one saw it coming. If I had, I certainly wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place.”

“Doesn’t mean we wouldn’t help.” Blizzard’s eyes flitted from Blaze to me. “But we’re glad you pulled through.”

I nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t pretty, but it turns out that I had actually made it to the bar.”

Myrtail was surprisingly easy to sum up. Granted, when I really thought about it, leaving out the details of my love life and the nitty gritty of Noble Light’s antics all but guaranteed a short tale.

Blaze was a bit calmer now, chewing thoughtfully on her words as she spoke, “I’m glad you’re okay, but y’know, if anypony else told me they got stranded in a fancy resort for a month because they almost died, I don’t think I’d believe them.”

“Same here.” Blizzard shook her head. “It’s almost like something out of a super spy novel.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “If this were a super spy novel, I’d have taken down the bad guys and been home in time for dinner. I’m just a normal mare.”

When they both gave me funny looks, I added. “Okay, okay. I admit that I must be some kind of weirdness magnet, but I’m certainly no super spy.”

“Sadly.” Blizzard gave me an apologetic smile.

Blaze nodded a few times before snapping her head forward, eyes wide. “Hey! Hold on a sec. You said they used magical helmets, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And a Guard Captain was working to root them out?” She leaned forward. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“That’s right.”

Her face lit up. “Oh! It all makes sense now.”

“Something happen?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Over the last month, there were several surprise equipment inspections. Didn’t think much of it, since I ain’t got any of the real stuff yet,” Blaze said, a small frown creeping across her face, “but some of my friends were complaining about how picky the higher-ups were being.”

“Picky so that they had ample time with the helmets?”

“Probably. Course, they were looking at the whole suit, insisting it be spotless, sayin’ the Crystal Empire’s Princess might drop by, so I don’t think anyone suspected.”

“‘Might?’” I asked

Blaze shrugged. “Yeah. In case she had to run off and do princess-y things, I guess. She did show up, anyway. Didn’t get a look at her, myself, but it was the talk of the barracks for a few days.”

“Pretty sneaky.” I couldn’t help but smirk. It was seriously doubtful that Noble Light had the clout to call in a foreign princess, even if she was originally Equestrian, to help him deal with an internal affair. Which left only one other possibility—and an opportunity to confirm that something was done. “So, did anyone get outed?”

“A few ponies got pulled aside,” Blaze answered. “Come to think of it, I ain’t seen any of them since.”

Guess that settles that.

With a shake of her head, Blizzard let out a sigh. “This still sounds straight out of the loony bin. So what happens now?”

“Nothing, hopefully,” I answered, adding my reasoning as much for myself as for them. “This whole operation has been pretty catastrophic for the Cartel. To pursue things further, especially when their Canterlot network has been crippled, would be a huge risk. If they have any sense of self-preservation, they’ll cut their losses and back off.”

Blaze frowned deeply. “And that’s it? We sit back and let them go about their evil ways?”

“Well, yes. It’s not like we can storm their headquarters and take down their leader, which—even if we somehow could, might not even put an end to things. I’m not a super spy, remember? Whatever happens next is up to the Guard.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “Right.”

---

Terra stood in the shadows of the main road, staring down a side street, at a cottage two blocks away. It was a tiny, rundown thing with peeling paint and crooked shutters. Oddly enough, the lawn, which was cut in half by a gravel path, and the two shrubs flanking the door, were lush and green.

I sighed. “Terra?”

She kept staring ahead, eyes fixed firmly on the door.

“Terra!”

“Huh?” With a start, she turned to me, blinking a couple times, as though she’d forgotten I was even there.

“If you keep standing there, someone is going to mistake us for burglars and then things are going to get weird.”

“Oh, yeah. That would be bad.” She still didn’t move. “Maybe we should come back tomorrow.”

“Don’t make me drag you over there.”

“Like you could.” She waved a hoof.

“Fine, probably not, but you’re the one who wanted to get this figured out.”

“Yeah, but… but, what am I supposed to do? What if me me is too different from other me and it traumatizes her?!” Terra shifted from hoof to hoof.

“One, you’re still being considerate of her even now. Two, even after you got your ‘sexy’ back, you went back over that garden magazine fr—”

“Sexy stallion magazine!” she snapped, just a little too loud. I thought I heard the sound of a few shutters closing.

I sighed. “Okay, if you talked to her about that, then we might have more than one problem. But I know what you were doing, Terra. You barely saw more than the centerfold.”

“Hahaha, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thankfully, that got her moving—and at a decent pace, no less. Of course, it turned out that the impulse to avoid admitting things to me was no match for the cottage’s door.

This left me with a bit of dilemma. I didn’t want to force Terra’s hoof, but standing out here arguing was liable to freak out pretty much everyone inside. So I did the only thing a good friend could do. Terra’s face contorted with increasing panic as each of my three knocks echoed out into the night.

“What did you do that for?!” she hissed.

“You’re welcome.”

The door swung open and there stood Aster, staring up at us with the severity of a treasury guard addressing a pack of hooligans. “What do you want?”

Terra’s demeanor immediately shifted. “Young filly, that is not how you address your elders.”

Aster scowled. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to if my elders didn’t break their promises.”

“And I’m very sorry for that,” Terra’s expression softened as she leaned forward. “Something came up.”

“Oh. Yeah. ‘Something’. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

“It was my fault,” I interjected.

Aster peered up at me. “What?”

“I had an emergency—a private emergency and I really, really needed Terra’s help. She would have been here for you if she could have. So if you have to blame anyone, blame me.”

“I…” Aster continued to stare, as though concentrating hard enough would let her see into my brain and decide if I was being honest.

A stallion’s voice cut through the silence. It was muffled and tired, coming from well inside the cottage. “It is ten o’clock, Aster. Who are you shouting at?”

The floorboards creaked as heavy hoofsteps slowly, but steadily, approached. Aster’s attention had turned inward and after a few moments, she scooted to the side, letting a large, dark tan stallion step into view. He looked like he’d once been bulky, the last vestiges of toning apparent in odd places. A thick cloth girdle wrapped around his barrel, with a secondary belt wrapped around his neck. Between that and the way he carried himself, if I had to guess, I’d have said it was a back brace. A light grey pillar sat on his flank, though I wasn’t quite sure what it represented. His mane was a pale purple, as though the grey of his cutie mark had been tinted.

“Oh, hello, Miss Terrabona.” He glanced at Aster. “Aster, why didn’t you say Miss Terrabona was here?”

Aster grumbled something incomprehensible. The stallion didn’t seem to mind. He simply smiled at Terra and I; it was a practiced smile, the sort of tired grin that both hides and gives away the troubles beneath. If nothing else, I couldn’t fault him for trying to be pleasant.

Terra smiled wide. “Hi, Stalwart. Sorry to bother you. I just need to have a quick chat with Aster.”

“And who’s your friend?” His gaze lingered a bit before he glanced at me.

“Oh! Yes, um, Dusky, this is Stalwart Stone. Stalwart, Dusky Down.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Down.”

“Likewise.” I smiled.

“Well, then, come right in. Sorry about the mess.”

“No, no” Terra waved a hoof. “We should be apologizing for showing up unannounced.”

Stalwart Stone stepped aside so Aster could hold the door for Terra and I. As soon as we were inside, Terra was practically on top of Aster, demanding the details of their month apart. All theory of her mothering being a side effect of Star’s spell died right there.

My own attention turned to the interior of the house itself. There was only one room, its floor and walls about as beaten and scuffed as the outside. Across from the door, a fire danced in the hearth; beside it was an empty pot, the faint scent of potatoes wafting out of it.

A couple of small beds were tucked into the far corner, neither of which had been made. While I was used to sleeping in a single size bed, there was just something about these ones that felt especially lonely. Perhaps it was more the fault of the room than anything. Aside from a rickety table and a couple old wooden shelves, the place was just plain sparse.

As I scanned the shelves, something at the top caught my eye. While most of the contents were about as drab and mundane as the shelves themselves, these were colourful binders; I couldn’t quite make out the patterns, but the choice of palette was gaudy enough that it wouldn’t seem out of place in Canterlot.

“Binders got your eye?”

“Yeah.” I looked at Stalwart Stone, who still had that same polite smile on his face. “They’re rather vibrant.”

“Everypony says something to that effect.” He chuckled, although, much like his smile, there was a certain tired weight to it. “They’re just mementos from a time long past.”

I nodded, not quite sure if he was volunteering more information or giving me just enough to ward me away from the topic. At this point, erring on the side of the latter was probably the better idea.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Try as I might, I couldn’t quite keep my eyes off his back brace. If we hadn’t found Aster wandering around so often, I might have guessed that he was out of the work force entirely. Which, I suppose, only served to make me more curious.

“I work for the Canterlot Independent Masons. Pushing paper.” The second sentence carried a tinge of bitterness. Given his cutie mark, I didn’t have to think too hard about why.

My familiarity with those particular masons, or even masons in general, was pretty limited. My dad had mentioned them in passing a couple times, but they just weren’t the type of customer he dealt with too often. All I knew was that they were a small-time organization who took smaller contracts. I wracked my brain for something that would be inoffensive, yet not painfully generic.

“Canterlot? So you commute there and back every day?”

He nodded. “Not because I want to, mind. Housing just ain’t cheap up there.”

“You can say that again.”

Stalwart Stone’s attention had turned to Aster and Terra and for just a moment, his smile dropped.

“I’d rather spend it with her. She deserves so much better than this.” He shook his head. “I guess what I mean to say is, I’m glad she found someone who can help her. An old stallion like me can only get so many notes from the teacher before he starts worrying.”

Terra wore a warm smile and a motherly gaze as she addressed Aster. “I can still help you spruce up the yard if you’d like.”

“I already fixed it.” Aster grumped, crossing her forehooves.

“Fixed it, yes. But what about those flowers you wanted?”

“They… they were too...” Aster mumbled, her voice dropping to inaudible levels.

Terra wrapped her in a tight hug. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure I’ve got something lying around the shop.”

Aster frowned, but the rest of her body visibly relaxed. “Fine, but you’d better not break your promise this time.”

A smile crept up my face as I turned to Stalwart Stone. “Me too.”

27 - Rebuilding Benchmarks

The sun was high in the cloudless sky, bathing the entirety of Canterlot in its light. It was a refreshing sight, considering that the flight over had been less relaxing than I’d promised myself; lingering thoughts of both past and future had kept my mind more than busy.

Rainbow Dash had been strangely difficult to catch over the last few days. Not that she hadn’t been around, but she’d always seemed too busy to talk. When she wasn't blasting through her weather duties, she was rushing off with hardly a word. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought she was avoiding me. More than likely, though, it was Elements business.

The irony wasn’t lost on me that extenuating circumstances were keeping me from explaining my own extenuating circumstances. Of course, there was a key difference: they were a national, Princess-sanctioned task force who faced some of the worst the world could throw at us. I was just some mare who could barely take on some angry thugs.

It wasn’t until about three days after my return that I’d finally gotten her attention. Despite Blizzard saying she’d vouch for me, I’d expected Dash to at least be annoyed. There were a lot of holes in the story, the least of which was a month’s worth of time sheets being retroactively adjusted—or so I thought. With a wink and a wave of her hoof, Rainbow Dash gleefully told me that the paperwork had been filed two weeks ago.

While I was more than a little relieved, the whole thing brought up more questions than it answered.

With all the Ponyville stuff settled, I turned my attention outward and was immediately reminded just how much I was out of touch. That pleasure trip to Canterlot quickly turned to business and I was off.

The lunchtime crowds made me skittish and I found myself instinctively avoiding any guards. It was Myrtail all over again, but weirder. I knew neither the state of affairs nor whom I should watch out for. Everything was both familiar and unfamiliar.

I picked up the pace as much as I dared. It wasn’t until I was once again entrenched among the gaudy vinyl of The Record Club that I finally allowed myself to relax. Taking a moment to collect my thoughts, I leaned back in my booth. The old seat’s backing was a bit more comfortable than I remembered.

As Lockbox approached the booth behind me, he paused for just a second. Even with his eyes under all that forelock, I felt them flit over to me.

“I heard a hunting party cornered a little bird.”

“Their trap had holes.”

“I heard they still got her good.”

“Maybe. Some birds just don’t die very easily.”

Lockbox chuckled. “So it seems.”

“Have they set out again?”

“Not here. Not even near here. Not after that little ‘cabin fire’ scared them off.” His tone shifted toward the end, the faintest satisfaction tinting his voice. I briefly wondered if it was something more than just small comfort. But, no, it was unlikely he’d want to rebuild his life again. I know I wouldn’t.

“Then?”

“Fillydelphia. Another band is growing uncomfortably large.”

The Mob. There was no need to ask. Even the average Equestrian knew of their clashes. At least, the newspapers seemed more than eager to shove it in our faces. Relief flooded over me; so long as conflict was looming, I wouldn’t even be in their sights. I knew it was selfish, but I hoped it wouldn’t end too quickly.

“Anywhere else?” I asked.

“Just Trottingham. Word is they’re ramping up resources. Probably for Filly.”

I nodded. Seemed they might be expecting something of a siege. That left one more big item on my list. I took a deep breath. “Pasture?”

“Other than another failure to get a contractor? Nothing.”

There was a tinge of disappointment. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but some part of me always hoped that Ivory would see some kind of progress. On the other hoof, nothing bad had happened while I was unable to help. Still, what Blaze had told me about the mayor’s possible connection, I had to double check. “I heard the previous mayor had some dirty ties.”

“Several. As does his son. But small fries have little pull in such relationships.”

“Then their activity?”

“Nonexistent.”

“Right. Thanks.”

---

The rest of our discussion had been minor tidbits and rumours, the kind that may or may not lead to something, but was good for a mare like me to know. A month’s worth of information might have been a bit much, as I’d left Canterlot more than an hour later than I expected.

By the time I reached Ponyville, it had been embraced by the sun’s fiery red glow. I really hoped I wasn’t too late for my next stop: Stalwart Stone’s cottage. When Terra had said she’d help Aster with her gardening, I don’t think anyone expected her to come up with an entire pallet of potted plants. Well, as near a pallet as she could get, anyway; some of those leafless twigs looked like a bit of a lost cause.

She’d made me promise to come by when I got back—not that I needed much persuasion.

As I approached the house, the lighting was just about right, highlighting the majority of the landscaping work. Despite the fact that the pallet had multiples of pretty much nothing, they’d put together something relatively symmetric.

Notably, a couple would-be shrubs stood at the head of the path. Each of the two older shrubs by the door were now ringed by a rainbow of flowers; the rings then extended along the base of the cottage.

I wondered just how much of that had been thanks to Terra’s newfound knowledge. While there were many things Aster still needed to learn, this was probably the single scenario where she was more likely to be the teacher.

Speaking of which, Aster was visible from the street, hanging out near the right side of the house, where the near-empty pallet sat. However, there was no Terra hovering over her. I supposed she could have just stepped inside for a moment, but I almost found it hard to believe that she’d leave Aster out of sight for even that long.

As I got closer, Aster crouched over the remaining pots, all of which held the barren plants. She mumbled something to herself as she pressed her hoof against the worst of the plants.

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. No sense interrupting her, especially if she was trying to concentrate.

The plant seemed to twitch, but that couldn’t be right. Aster hadn’t even moved; the light was surely playing tricks with me. Then a tiny spot of vibrant brown appeared at the base of the dry, grey plant. Slowly, creepingly, it made its way up until the plant appeared revived.

Aster shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut and as she did, a lush green bud protruded from the top of the plant.

I stopped dead, the gravel protesting beneath my forehoof.

Rearing up, Aster whirled. By the time she was facing me, the plant’s bud had, what I can only describe as, faded away. Her forehead was matted with sweat and her eyes desperately darted around.

When she met my gaze, she visibly relaxed, but she gave me this look that said, ‘You never saw me do this.’

I frowned. The obvious question had half-formed on my lips before Terra’s voice cut through the silence.

“Dusky! You made it!” She came galloping up to me, wearing the kind of wide grin I’d more expected of Aster than her. “What do you think?”

“It’s pretty. I was wondering how you were going to deal with the lack of duplicates,” I said, trying to keep my thoughts from seeping in. Terra obviously didn’t know about Aster’s little ability and I didn’t know if I should tell her just yet. The bigger question was probably what that ability even was. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, Aster had brought that plant back to life. But I’d never seen earth pony magic do that. My mind was already formatting a pseudo-letter to the only expert I knew.

Dear Ivory,
What do you know about plant necromancy?

Of course, that would require making use of one of Lockbox’s more expensive services. Such was the price of discretion, I suppose. It also wouldn’t be quick, so I made a mental note to see what I could find in the library.

“That’s what happens when you put two great minds together.” Terra giggled, pulling me back to reality.

“Well, sounds like you two had a lot of fun.” I smiled at Terra, though my eyes fell on Aster, who was just regaining her composure.

“Of course. The whole afternoon was a blast! Right, Aster?” Terra held herself tall and proud.

“Yeah, something like that,” Aster replied, smiling a wide smile that, while it started genuine, quickly expanded into a sort of forced awkwardness. After a second, she looked away from me.

“So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the night?” I asked.

“I’m going to hang out with Aster a bit longer,” Terra glanced back at her, “but I told Mahogany I’d meet him at the Seapony. You good for that?”

“For sure. See you there.” As I turned to leave, I wondered if the library was still open.

---

As it turned out, the library was indeed closed; it also turns out that such minor things as being closed doesn’t deter Twilight from long-winded magic lectures and research. Also, also, I’m convinced that Twilight does not so much read as osmose the knowledge of any book she touches. It took me the next three days and about a half-dozen textbooks for me to fully understand what she’d been talking about.

Earth ponies, like pegasi, tend to make indirect use of their natural magic. Their mere presence in a farming workforce is said to increase output tenfold; without dedicated earth pony farmers, the industry would never be able to keep up with Equestria’s population.

Of course, that wasn’t my main concern, but I would be lost without the basics. No, it was earth ponies’ ability to directly apply their magic to plants, much like pegasi can craft weather, that interested me.

I went to the Seapony early that night, hoping to catch Terra while she was still sober. I arrived just in time too, since Terra and Merriweather were hunkered down behind a small cluster of still-full glasses. No Mahogany, though—something that was sadly becoming more and more common. Seemed that his boss decided he should make up for his sick time with increasing amounts of mandatory overtime. I really needed to find a way to make it up to him.

“Oh, Dusky! Hi! I knew you’d be coming~!” Merriweather waved as she shouted over the table.

I raised an eyebrow. “Because I told you last night I’d be here?”

“Yes, but you didn’t say what time.” Merriweather grinned widely as a glass of cider slid out from the clump of alcohol. “Tada! Ice cold cider~!”

A quick taste test proved her statement to be true. “Huh, so it is. How many ciders did you have to order to pull this off?”

“One, thanks to my future-telling powers~!” Merriweather placed her forehooves to the side of her head.

“Uh, riiiiight.”

“Toldja she wouldn’t be fooled by it.” Terra beamed.

“Shhhhh! Never reveal a magician’s trick.”

Terra stuck out her tongue. “You just don’t want to pay up.”

“That bored, huh.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “What was the bet?”

“Ten bits that she couldn’t fool you without spells.”

I tilted my head. “And how many have you had? I mean, I hope you didn’t waste good cider.”

Terra waved her hoof. “Oh, just two. How do you even get a buzz off this stuff, anyway?”

“Practice.” It was my turn to stick out my tongue. “Anyway, you sober enough for a quick chat?”

Both Merriweather’s and Terra’s eyes flitted toward the back rooms.

“Oh, no…” Terra began.

“Did something happen?” Merriweather’s face was suddenly serious. “I can go get Sis’.”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “Nothing that serious. I just need to you to actually remember what we talked about in the morning.”

“Phew.” Relief washed across Terra’s face. “What is it?”

“It’s about Aster. The other day, when you two were gardening, did she do anything strange to the dying plants?”

“No. She didn’t even touch them. Why?”

I spoke carefully,“Well, while you’d stepped away, I happened to see her fiddling with one. She was concentrating hard and then the plant appeared to return to health.”

“What?! Like, bringing it back to life?” Terra planted her hooves on the table and leaned forward, nearly knocking several of the glasses over.

“No.” I shook my head for emphasis. “To an outside observer, it may look like that at first, which is part of why I wanted to talk to you about this. When I thought about it a little harder, I realized that it wasn’t necessarily dead. A plant’s roots will often survive, even when the rest of it has withered.”

“What? So does this mean she has some kind of super special power?” This time, Terra did knock over a glass, but it hardly tipped more than an inch before Merriweather’s aura righted it.

“All earth ponies can do it,” Merriweather said as she casually leaned back. “In fact, they do a minor version of it when they farm. Any one of them can also infuse a plant with their magic to make it do things. It’s just not a very good trade-off, so most ponies don’t do it.”

When we both looked at her, she smirked. “What? A Countess has to know things about her ponies~.”

I mirrored her smirk. “Fair enough. Anyway, it is a little more complicated than that. Ponies with plant cutie marks have a much easier time of it. That isn’t to say it isn’t tiring, but if what I read is right, an adult should be able to handle a small plant or two before it starts to get taxing.”

“But Aster doesn’t have a cutie mark, even though she might as well have a gardening mark,” Terra said, her voice almost tangibly trailing off into thought.

“Which is why I think a foal like her even got away with doing it without collapsing.”

“So that’s why she was so tired. Thanks, Dusky. I’ll have to have a firm discussion with her.” Terra’s eyes lit up with motherly fervour.

“Any time.”

28 - Falls

The Seapony was quite busy tonight, to no one’s surprise. Whenever they had a discount appetizer night, things got a little crowded. However, our table was looking a little barer. Terra was still with Aster, bonding over some cottage repairs. And Mahogany was, of course, working late again. I wondered if I could convince him to go to the spa. With the kind of hours he was stuck with, I wagered he’d get more than a little relief.

This left us with Night, who was doing about as well as he usually does in crowds; Star, who was alternating between her codex and observing the mass consumption of hay fries; and Merriweather. Interestingly, she’d only had about half the alcohol she’d normally have by this point in the night.

I wanted to ask Night about his trip to Whinnyapolis, but I felt like the conversation would be a bit too sensitive for a public place like the bar. Sure, Mint Creme had had her entire reunion with Night out on a hotel patio, but we were lucky enough to have found a quiet little corner. The way things were at the Seapony, the only place we might be able to find that would be one of the back rooms and I was very hesitant to use them. At best, it would elicit lewd gestures from Merriweather, at worst, I’d freak everyone out again. I had no reason to really press the topic, anyway; there’d be plenty of other opportunities to chat later.

So I leaned over a bit and half-shouted, “How’s the tea tonight?”

Night’s eyes snapped into focus as his mind tumbled off of whatever train of thought it had been on. “Oh, i-it’s nice.”

“Well, that’s good. Maybe I’ll have to try it sometime.” I placed a hoof on his withers and he blushed.

The main door burst open. ‘Bubbling’ was about the only way I could describe Terra as she strode over to us. There were clearly words on the tip of her tongue, but none that were coming out, even as she plopped down beside me. She stared expectantly.

I held her gaze for a few seconds, purposefully delaying the question to see if she’d crack first. “I take it you and Aster had a fun time?”

In the interim, Merriweather had already slid two full whiskies across the table to Terra.

“We have a date on Saturday!” she blurted out.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I guess that means you also didn’t get all the repairs done?”

“No, no, we got that done just fine.” Terra waved her hoof. “Saturday is our dinner date!”

“‘Our’, meaning yours and Stalwart Stone’s?” I couldn’t help but smirk.

“And Aster's.”

“What?” I blinked a couple times, waiting for her to declare that she was joking. There would be no such confession. “Terra. I thought you said you have this romance thing down pat.”

“I do!” She grinned widely.

“Says the mare who wants to bring a foal on a dinner date. Look, I can foalsit for you if you want. Just do me a favour and have a proper date, okay?”

“Yeah! How would you even have sexy times with a foal around, anyway?” Merriweather somehow asked with a completely straight face.

Night turned bright red.

“Sister. Such speech is not becoming of—”

“Oh, come on. Lighten up, Sis’!” Merriweather prodded at Star’s side. “Besides, how’s beating around the bush supposed to be more mature? We’re not blushing schoolfillies anymore.”

Star pushed Merriweather’s hoof away. “While that is true, she did not broach the subject and prying into such matters is inappropriate.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Merriweather paused mid-hoof-wave and giggled. “I’m sorry I implied things about the usage of your lady bits, Terra.”

Star placed a hoof to her forehead. Terra burst out into laughter and I think at some point, Night had disappeared under the table. I considered another reassuring hug, but there was probably a fifty-fifty chance that the contact would just make things worse for him.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway, just tell me when and I’ll be there.”

“Okay, okay.” Terra took a swig of whiskey without even breaking pace. “Our reservation is for six, so… five-thirty?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Right at that moment, the wall clock caught my eye. Seemed our little interlude had gone on longer than I’d thought. “Speaking of time, I’ve got a shift in the morning, so I’d better duck out.”

“Aw, but we’re just getting started,” Terra pouted around her glass.

“Yeah! I haven’t even bought you a second cider yet!” Merriweather chimed in.

I shook my head. “Sorry. I really would like to hang out more, but fatigue and storm clouds don’t mesh well together; that’s how someone gets hit by lightning.”

“Oh, yeah. That’d be bad.” Terra frowned.

“V-very bad,” Night added. He was standing at full height again. “T-take care of yourself, Dusky.”

“You too.” I leaned in for a quick nuzzle. “See you later, everyone!”

---

The evening was cooler than usual, the slightest of chills touching my back. The streets were largely empty, as it was too early for the vast majority of the Ponyville night crowd to be headed home, and too late for most potential newcomers to bother.

So I was left to my thoughts, which turned to the challenge ahead of me: coming up with activities to keep Aster in check for an entire night.

The road crunched beneath my hooves, the fine grit giving way in stages. It was a good thing we had that storm scheduled—otherwise, the next stiff Everfree breeze might have run off with the whole road.

A loud groan stopped me in my tracks. My ears twitched as my eyes scanned the sides of the road. I was still in the commercial district, which really left little area to search. And yet, I couldn’t spot anything.

A second groan—louder this time—pulled my head to my right. The alley was wide, letting in some of the light from the nearby businesses, though not enough to see more than a couple silhouettes. The nearest appeared to be pony-shaped and lying on the ground. The other was larger and boxy, perhaps a cart or a low stack of crates.

Blood rushed through my veins and my senses heightened. It could just be someone too drunk to stand or something equally unruly that I wouldn’t want to approach. But it could also be someone who was genuinely hurt, so I couldn’t just turn away without checking.

I crept forward, resisting the urge to call out. Initial assessment would be easier if my presence was unknown, especially since I needed to get quite close. The moon was rather weak that night and it wasn’t until I was barely five feet away that I could make out the stallion’s short, grey mane and reddish-brown coat. Behind him was indeed a cart, overturned in such a way that I almost couldn’t make out the yellow ‘Equestrian Parcel Service’ lettering on the side.

My blood ran cold.

“Mahogany?!” I called out. No response.

At first I was angry. He should know better than to booze up before a delivery. Any pegasus knew that flying was already difficult when intoxicated; add an unwieldy cart full of heavy parcels and a crash was almost inevitable.

But when I got really close—close enough to see his face, to see the tape on his lips and the ropes around his legs—that’s when I wished a few too many drinks were all I had to worry about.

I had my blade on my wing as quickly as I could, while each sound, each shadow, sent my mind into a frenzy. It has to be the Cartel. No random mugger would do this. But Lockbox said...

“Nothing gets past you, hmm?” The voice, which was distorted to sound like both a young and old stallion, was smug. Despite the distortion, or rather, because of it, I recognized it almost instantly. There was no doubt anymore.

A twisted visage stepped from the shadows, his coat a smooth blue-grey conflicting with a wrinkly green-yellow. A slicked black mane cut through fading grey. His cutie mark was a stylized hand-held mirror—the kind preferred by Griffons, yet also a brown shepherd’s cane.

“Smokey Mirror.” The words, ones I hadn’t spoken in years, escaped my lips.

“Oh, so you do remember me, though I suppose anyone privy to my true form could never forget such beauty.” He grinned wickedly.

“Back off.” Through shaking limbs, I drew myself as tall as I could and leveled my wingblade at him. Instinctively, I shifted, placing myself squarely between he and Mahogany.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Contract and all that, you know. Nothing personal, of course.” Dim grey light washed over his horn and two metal discs, each about the size of a hoof, hovered above his head. Their edges glinted in the moonlight. “But you know, if you were to cooperate, I could promise that no harm would come to your friend.”

I gritted my teeth. Were this a true one-on-one, perhaps I could win. It wouldn’t be easy, but at least his illusions were useless against me. But Smokey Mirror wasn’t the kind of pony to start a fair fight. The real question was: how many goons did he have in hiding? If it was low enough, perhaps I could run and carry Mahogany to safety. Both my mind and body knew that was a complete lie, but it didn’t matter. I needed something, anyway, to get me through this.

“And if I don’t?”

Smokey Mirror’s smile dropped into a hard frown. “Well, then I’m afraid your friend is going to have a little... fatal accident. As for you, you’ll just have to arrive a little roughed up.”

Arrive a little roughed up? The words lingered, even as I watched six large stallions, three of which were earth ponies and three of which were pegasi, step out of the surrounding shadows. Their muscles were highly visible, even in such poor lighting. They also wore Guard helmets, but now that I knew about the magic, they appeared much like Smoke Mirror—blurred images of Guards overlapping their natural form.

There was no way I’d get away on my own, never mind with Mahogany on my back. But those words, they gave me a strange sense of hope. The Cartel clearly wanted me alive. If I could only ensure that Mahogany lived, then perhaps I could find a way to escape captivity. It was an absurdly high-risk gambit, but I couldn’t see anything else I could do. Which left me with the obvious question.

“How do I know you haven’t already killed him?”

“Mmmmph!” Mahogany’s muffled cry drew my eyes down to him. Fear was written on his face as he squirmed. It wasn’t survival instinct, though; it was the same look as Silent Vigil, telling me, ‘Don’t do it. Get out of here!’

Every fiber of my body agreed, wanted to resist. But I had no choice. Even if they’d been some of the worst fighters in Equestria, seven against one is just impossible odds for someone of my caliber. No, enough people had already died for me. I could not, would not, allow Mahogany to be added to that number. I had to save him. And then maybe, just maybe, they’d get complacent.

Smokey Mirror tapped his hoof on the ground. “There’s your answer. Now then, how about mine?”

“You promise you’ll leave him unharmed?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve no quarrel with him.” He waved his hoof.

“Fine. Then I surrender,” I said, just barely masking the tremble in my voice.

“Mmmmph! MMMMMMMMMMMPH!” Mahogany flopped up and down.

As I looked back toward my wing, I caught his eye. “I’m sorry.”

I whispered the magic word and my blade departed. It hit the ground about the same time as my heart. There were a thousand ways this could end and maybe a dozen that could do so in my favour.

Nevertheless, I stepped forward, into the ring of thugs.

First came the bag, rustling loudly as it engulfed my head. My nostrils strained within the stifling confines, the struggle only getting worse as I felt the satchel tighten. As the light faded to the dimmest of leaks, what I’d done fully set in.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Instinct told me to thrash and buck, to flail until my opponents lay sprawled upon the ground—or I collapsed from exhaustion. My heart pounded and my hooves itched with every second that I didn’t. Thankfully, my lungs were more obedient, allowing me to concentrate on not doing anything stupid. It wasn’t worth wasting the energy—and Celestia knew I’d need all of it if I wanted to get out of this. Hair brushed against my belly as I was placed onto one of the thugs’ backs with careful precision.

I expected them to move as soon as they had me, but my carrier remained still. Smokey Mirror’s mock whisper, though muffled, cut through the thick sack walls. “Don’t look so glum. I’m not going to kill you. But not because of her. No, I want you to relay a message. Tell your friends that you are helpless before the Cartel, that this is what happens when you cross us.”

---

The journey was long and I spent the entirety of it in the back of an enclosed cart. The walls were thick, which, in conjunction with the bag, made it difficult to make out any sounds. Best I could tell, there were no city sounds, so they were likely taking a secretive route along the countryside. Of the possible destinations, the two closest major hubs were Manehattan and Fillydelphia. The former was unquestionably Mob territory, so they’d have to be insane to go there. And while the latter was set to be a war zone, that also meant that unless they wanted to go further out to Trottingham, this was their only choice. These kind of lengths meant that their leader very likely wanted to see her vendetta through to the end, face-to-face. To take me somewhere smaller would likely be a mistake on multiple levels.

Occasionally, we would stop dead, usually for about an hour at a time. That was when they would come back to give me rations and water while three of the stallions watched over me. I ate slowly, trying to get more details while my ears were free of the bag, but I got little more than random wildlife. There were also no windows, so there wasn’t much else I could do.

My mind turned to thoughts that had fallen behind the wall of adrenaline. How did this happen? Why was Lockbox wrong? Had he been fed false information? Or worse?

I shook the thought away. Lockbox had less than no reason to sell me out. While it was generally best to regard people in that line of work with suspicion, Lockbox was the definition of the exception I could trust.

More than anything, I think I was more angry with myself; the rumour mill is a fickle beast that hardly ever presents the whole picture and sometimes, fixates on the wrong part. I should have known better than to let my guard down. Then maybe there was something I could have done. There had to have been something I could have done—because the alternative was that the universe had conspired against me.

When we finally arrived, I was escorted, still bagged, through a series of halls, then up several flights of stairs. I heard the distinctive creak of iron gates once, then twice. They commanded me to stop and the bag was pulled away, leaving me blinded by white light. It wasn’t until long after the gate shut behind me that I’d regained my sight.

The instigator of my blindness—a wide, but short window that I wagered even a bunny wouldn’t be able to squeeze through—sat high upon the wall. The walls, with the exception of the one behind me, were the natural grey of cement, as was the floor. Several chunks were randomly missing from each surface, which were probably responsible for all the grit on the floor. The wall behind me was not cement, but entirely bars, with a heavy gate worked into its left side. If the guards were paying any level of attention, any sort of skullduggery was going to be very hard.

There were scant few furnishings in the cell: a dingy toilet and sink set, as well as a cot that was carelessly tossed atop a frame of unpainted two-by-fours.

I felt my rump hit the cold floor. It was all I could do to keep myself together. Thoughts of my friends flooded over me. They’d be worried. I wondered if I’d ever see them again. I had to. I couldn’t let them down. I’d find a way. I just didn’t know how yet.

For now, all I could do was breathe.

29 - Inmates

Not long after I arrived, the jangling of chains caught my ear. It was a rhythmic sound, growing louder as it approached from the left side of the corridor. Two guards came into view, then a white-coated stallion. He was an earth pony, all muscle and about three times my size. If it wasn’t for the heavy, chained manacles hanging around each of his hooves, I might have thought he was in charge. He plodded along as though he’d walked this hall a thousand times. His eyes flitted my way, locking on me for just a moment; they darted forward again when something prodded up against his bottle-adorned flank. As he moved forward, two more guards came into view, one of whom held a long, wooden rod between his teeth.

There was a loud clank as the door of the cell beside mine opened. The jangling continued for a few more steps, then stopped. Once the door was shut, the softer tapping of bare hooves echoed down the hallway as the guards departed.

About ten seconds later, the stallion spoke, a sort of mundane curiosity in his voice, “So you’re the special one.”

I raised an eyebrow, even though there was no way he could see me. “Special one?”

His laugh was short and pointed. “Don’t play dumb. You’re the one the boss has been getting all excited over.”

“Boss? You work for them?”

“Not because I want to.”

“Meaning?”

“Y’don’t say ‘no’ when they’ve got a knife to your throat.”

“Uh, okay?” It wasn’t that I didn’t think such a thing could happen, but I hardly had any reason to trust anything he said.

“I’m serious, girl.” There was a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “Those of us in here, we’re trophies—conquests forced to work for them until we wither away.”

His words hit me straight in the chest; the thought of wasting away here was not one I wanted to entertain. Still, I managed to keep my voice level. “That sounds like a waste of time and money.”

“Hah, I bet you don’t believe that,” he said. Of course, I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to let him know anything.

“So, what? We sit here forever so your boss can come in and gloat like some kind of comic book villain?”

“That’s part of it. They make you do things for them.”

“Things.”

“Yeah. You wanna know how long I’ve been in here, doing whatever they want?”

No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me anyway. I didn’t say anything, which he took to mean ‘yes’.

“Five years. All because my marefriend worked for them.”

“Worked?” I winced. One does not simply quit the Cartel like a job.

“Yeah. Until she bit it.” He laughed bitterly. “I always told her it was going to be the death of her one day. I asked her to stop before it was too late. She just laughed and told me she was too good for that. Of course, ‘cause I doubted her, they all suspected me when it happened.”

“That’s too bad.” I tried to sound sympathetic, but their choice of affiliation made that more than a little difficult. The thought did occur to me that he was telling the truth, that like Mahogany, he was the victim of collateral damage.

“Isn’t it?” His reply came with a tone that almost sounded like he’d expected mine. I supposed that it wouldn’t have been hard to guess, but in my gut, something about it just didn’t quite sit right.

“Yeah. It’s always a shame when someone dies.” Though some deaths are less surprising.

There was a long pause. I guessed he must have been gauging my sincerity. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Well, reckon that’s enough for now. Gonna get some shuteye before they call me again.”

“You just got here.” I needed to stop giving the wall weird looks.

“So? When they’ve got labour that needs doing, they don’t care to wait,” he said, more matter-of-factly than anything else.

“Huh. Well, I won’t keep you up, then.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“What’s your name? Mine’s Diligent Duster,” he stated with a proudness that had me picture him just sitting there grinning.

“Duster?” I’m not sure why, but I’d expected his name to match his cutie mark more closely—despite my own having absolutely nothing to do with each other.

“What can I say? I like cleanin’. Don’t get to do much of that, unless hauling stuff out of the pit counts.” It required more than a bit of imagination, but perhaps that bottle was supposed to represent a cleaning solution.

I pondered his words a moment. If his lips were this loose all the time, I could definitely see why the Cartel might have thought he had something to do with his marefriend’s downfall. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage. In any case, the opportunity was at least worth one of my old aliases.

“Indigo. Indigo Strands.”

“I’ll see you around, Indigo.”

---

Sure enough, a couple hours later, Diligent Duster’s little entourage returned, banging loudly on the bars of his cell. We exchanged glances as he passed by. It could have just been me, but I thought his gait was just a little faster this time around.

I spent some time pacing, stretching, all while contemplating what information I could try to get out of Diligent Duster next. One thing was definitely the guards. Since I'd arrived, not a one had even so much as checked up on me. They were either very clever or lazy about their surveillance; whichever it was would greatly influence my plans.

The trend of non-presence kept up until a pair of Cartel arrived with a tray. They slipped it through the bars, then left without a word.

There was a strange incongruity between my cell and the meal. I’d expected the driest, most brittle of hay—the kind that barely qualifies as food. But this was a plate of fresh greens. At first, I was suspicious, the growling in my stomach and the reasoning that I needed my strength to escape being the only reasons I even touched it.

However, once a quartet of my muscly kidnappers replaced my ‘bed’ with a comparatively cushy single size, I began to see a pattern—a grim, almost humourous, logic: whatever Summer Leaf had planned, she wanted me to be in good health. So much for withering away.

Of course, this meant that I was on an unknown time limit. With no eyes on me, I decided it might be a good time to check for weaknesses in the cell. I’m no mason, but anyone can take advantage of enough neglect. After three passes, all I could say was that despite looking pretty ratty, the place was disappointingly sturdy.

There was enough space to train, but unless I could somehow become strong enough to bend bars, that wouldn’t do me any good. I considered waiting until another situation like the bed popped up; suddenly, bending bars sounded easy compared to winning a four-on-one against stallions twice my size.

Forcing the lock would probably have been my best option, if I’d actually had a tool to attempt it with. Of course, with only rudimentary knowledge, simply wrecking the lock was a very real possibility.

Once again, I was left waiting.

When I noticed I’d started pacing, I diverted the energy into training. I needed to not be so high strung, so I could avoid blowing what might be my only opportunity; extra readiness was a welcome bonus, though. I kept to the more subdued routines so that I could hear anyone coming.

An hour passed and I began to tire. Making use of the bed felt more than a little awkward, but better safe than sorry. I kept an ear turned toward the hall, but I caught nothing before I dozed off.

---

Rhythmic tapping roused me from my slumber. Yet, before I could ease my eyes open, a loud clang had me practically jumping out of bed. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was, to push the overwhelming panic away. A bit of sweat gathered on my forehead.

By the time I was able to fully calm myself, the Cartel guards were already leaving. Silence hung in the air for a minute, although I swore I could still hear that clang echoing down the hall.

“Hey. You’re not really asleep yet, are you?” Diligent Duster’s voice drifted over.

“No.”

“Thought so.”

“Do you need something?”

“Just a chat. Been a long time since somepony talked with me instead of at me.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about his forwardness, but if nothing else, this was probably the best time for me to get some sort of lead. “I’m guessing you had something in mind.”

“Before the end, I… I’d like somepony to hear her story. I know nopony really cares about another dead hitmare, but I’d like to pretend for a bit.”

There was little question as to how she died now. The more interesting question was how someone this chatty and unconventionally honest ended up mixed up with someone like her. Then again, all my friends had found a weirdness magnet like myself. And, like Diligent Duster, Mahogany had paid the price.

“Okay, I’ll listen.”

“Her name was Amber Lane. She was a gentle soul.”

“What?” There were at least a hundred other things I’d expected him to say first.

“I’m serious. How many foals grow up thinking, ‘I want to be a hitmare when I’m older’?”

“Point taken.”

“I mean, sure she was opinionated and emotional, but it was because she cared, y’know?” He took a deep breath. “Maybe a bit too much. She only took the job because they were poor, starving.”

“‘They’ being her family?”

“Yeah. The first job got her attention and a second. Before she knew it, years had passed. Her family was no longer starving, but she was in a whole mess of trouble and besides that, ‘hitmare’ doesn’t really work as a resume.”

“Yet you asked her to quit?” Of course, on principle, I’d have thought she should have quit. In practicality, it would probably only make a bad situation worse.

“Yeah! She had me to support her. Sure, it’d ruffle a few feathers, but I… I thought she could be the exception, y’know? Everytime she told me she was the best, I knew. I could see it in her eyes. Hitmares don’t live too long and their lives don’t end quietly. Least if she was out, she was out. Maybe they’d come get her, but it was better than knowing she was always one fight away from biting it.”

“And the Cartel blames you?”

“Sick, isn’t it? Send her off to die all those times, then when it finally gets her, they think I set her up. I loved her more than they could possibly imagine. If we could trade places, I would, in a heartbeat.”

A thought stirred in the back of my mind, one of Night.

Diligent Duster let out a bitter laugh. “To think this all started with a chance meeting at the derby.”

“It doesn’t take much for simple to become complicated.”

“Hah. You’re telling me.” This time there was no hint of humour in his voice.

The whole thing got me thinking about my first encounter with the Cartel. A mistake, made in my youth, that had followed me around for so long. What made it worse was that, unlike Amber Lane, I had a choice. I didn’t have to try to be a hero. I didn’t have a starving family to feed. Yet, how many times had I had to fight? To kill? Was I destined, as I walked a disturbingly parallel path, to meet the same fate as her? My gut told me that, should Summer Leaf have her way, the answer would be, ‘Yes.’

“So how about you?” Diligent Duster’s voice snapped me back to reality. “What’s your deal?”

As I gave my words careful consideration, I had to wonder if he’d told me all that to get me to open up. It was a difficult decision, since if I were to clam up, he probably wouldn’t be as willing to give information. But I’d already given him leeway and wasn’t comfortable saying anything else unless I could be certain I’d learn something useful.

“Look, no offense, but I just met you and I don’t like to talk about it as it is.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Another time, then.”

30 - Premeditation

I tried to get some rest myself, so that I could align Diligent Duster’s and my waking hours. I still didn’t trust him, but it’s not like there was anyone else I could get information out of. If those cursed doors were alive, I’d say that they were contributing to the cause in the most cheeky way possible—every one of Diligent Duster’s arrivals and departures left me startled and awake.

This happened at least three more times over the next twelve or so hours. Each time he returned, he was slower, more ragged and went to sleep without a word. By the final time, his hooves were dragging and his back sagged. He didn’t even look at me.

I thought back to what he’d said yesterday, that before the end, he wanted to talk about his dead lover. Given the state of his body, I had to assume he knew he’d be doing something more dangerous. Perhaps he didn’t expect to come back. One generally doesn’t call something ‘the pit’ because it’s nice.

After about an hour of lying alone with my thoughts, Diligent Duster’s voice cut through the silence. “They do it on purpose, y’know.”

“What?”

“They want us to know they’re coming. To feel that dread. That’s why this place is so empty. They sit in their little guard post, gambling. I used to laugh at it. How could it bother anyone? Then they put me in here.” His words sped up as he continued and I instinctively pulled away from the wall. He was definitely some level of unhinged, but a nagging feeling told me that wasn’t the whole story.

Regardless, if Diligent Duster’s condition was the result of leaving someone to rot, I hated to imagine what was in store for me. I had to move quickly, to press him for more details. “Really? So they just hang out at the end of the hall all day?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sounds lazy.”

“Doesn’t matter if they are. This place is huge and full of Cartel. They could leave our doors wide open and we’d still be screwed.”

I frowned. “It’s really that big?”

“Yeah. Place is a paper distribution plant. Lots of equipment and ponies so it looks legit.”

“And they’re all loyal?”

“Wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

I wasn’t so sure about that one. Full-fledged Cartel agents being used as decoys like that would just tie up all their good resources. It would be a gamble, but if I could get out, perhaps I could mingle with the average workers as they left for the day. Regardless, Diligent Duster didn’t need to know.

“So this whole thing’s a front?”

“Yep.”

“And… they felt a need to cram a conspicuous prison into it?”

“Eh, guess so. Not like the Guard’s gonna be wandering around up here, anyway. Boss has got an understanding with them, if you know what I mean.”

“I see.” I could already picture Blaze’s scowl. Then the details caught up to me. Up? There were two sets of stairs, so assuming no basements, that puts me on the third floor at worst. If I go down, anyway.

“So we’re in some kind of forsaken prison tower.” I tried to play up the dramaticness of the impromptu title, but it was hard not to overdo it.

Diligent Duster let out a bitter laugh. “Would be a good way to describe it. If we weren’t on the third floor…”

Bingo. I smiled inwardly.

“... and the thing didn’t go up at least another four.”

The wind immediately left my sails. Seemed the roof would be no less questionable than the ground floor.

He spoke again. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“No. How’d you know?”

“There aren’t many plants around here and they’re pretty obvious on the skyline. You’d know ‘em if you lived here.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” There was no point in insisting otherwise.

“So where are you from?” His question was something I saw coming a mile away and this time, I was prepared.

“Nowhere.”

The silence stretched on for what felt like a minute. “What do you mean? You gotta have a home.”

“I’m a drifter. Home goes where I go.”

He tapped the floor a few times. “Is it because of them?”

“Nah, I’m just restless. But even if I wasn’t, they certainly wouldn’t encourage me to settle down.”

Another chuckle echoed down the hall, though it quickly turned into a hacking cough.

“You okay over there?” I tried, in vain, to peer around the wall.

“Yeah, yeah. Day’s just catching up with me.”

“What does a paper plant—even a fake one—need with a pit, anyway?”

“They’re building some kind of big, voodoo room or something.”

I blinked. “I… what?”

“Hell if I know. I don’t ask questions unless I wanna get whipped. I just know they’re doing some kind of unicorn mumbo jumbo to the bricks I bring in.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah! That!”

“Right.” That nagging part of my mind pushed long-forgotten research back to the front of my mind. It was ancient magic, the kind referenced and highly exaggerated by Daring Do. None of it could really destroy the world or enslave everyone in Equestria, but still. I tried to laugh it off, joking, “Hopefully that don’t use it to summon a demon or anything.”

There was another long silence and I started to feel bad. When he spoke again, there was a hint of fear, leaking out from beneath the fatigue. “Is… is that a thing they can do?”

“No, no. Sorry, that was just a bad joke I was making about a novel I read.”

“You sure it’s not telling the truth?”

“Well, no,” I replied. Nothing I had found even came close to doing what the novel described, and yet, I wasn’t exactly a magic expert. “But it was a fantasy novel. Chances are it’s all made up.”

Diligent Duster let out a sigh. “If you say so.”

By now, I’d worked myself up too much to stop thinking. I didn’t know much about the magicks—none of the techniques to actually cast the spells were ever in the books and probably with good reason. At least I hoped they were all locked away in Canterlot’s secure archive; the listed effects may not have been fiction-level of gruesome, but I wasn’t too keen on anyone having the ability to drain me of my magic or sacrifice my life force to power a magical device.

As I came to recall just how many of these forbidden spells vaguely made mention of a live or recently live victim, a chill ran down my spine. It couldn’t be coincidence: this was why Summer Leaf was keeping me healthy. I had to get out—and soon.

---

I couldn’t get much more out of Diligent Duster. At least, not without giving myself away. I still couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t just sell me out.

Of course, even what meager knowledge I had would be totally useless if I was still stuck in my cell. I searched the room again. I hadn’t missed any debris and the plumbing wasn’t going to be any more useful than last time. Even if I found a way to detach some part of the piping, it was too big to do anything with.

With a sigh, I flopped down on the bed. It let out a metallic creak. Despite the frame being clearly made of wood.

I rocked back and forth.

Creak.

My eyes flitted to the hall. Once I was certain no one was there, I slipped down onto the floor, peering around as best I could in the dim lighting. There, where one of the legs intersected the bulk of the frame, a glint of metal caught my eye. Straining my eyes, I thought I could make out two thin, steel brackets on each of the legs—thin enough that they might just do. Assuming I could get them off without any tools, of course.

I climbed back on to the bed and jiggled it with the fervour of a restless five-year-old, keeping my eyes on the hall the whole time. After a few minutes, I stopped and listened.

Not so much as a single hoofstep.

My ears twitched as I strained them further. Still nothing. Finally, I allowed myself to relax, to push that rush of blood away. Huh. Maybe Diligent Duster was telling the truth.

Returning to the floor, I prodded at each of the legs. They seemed loose, although it was entirely possible it had come in that way. But if the guards really were so lazy, odds were that I wouldn’t be strapped for time.

Guess I’d better get started… I couldn’t help but smirk at how dumb this was going to be.

---

I was too anxious to rest, which was a problem. If I was high-strung all day, there was no way I’d have any energy by the next nightfall. I tried distancing myself from the bed, meditating, pacing, even just staring up at that little strip of darkened sky. None of it could make me forget that my plan hinged on one excruciatingly obvious possible point of failure.

After a couple hours, I’d worked one of the legs within what I hoped was breaking point. I didn’t dare risk going further because breaking the bed now would most definitely alert them the next time they either brought food or escorted Diligent Duster. Not only did this mean I’d have to minimize time spent on the bed, it also meant that I had no way of knowing it would work. What if it wasn’t as close to breaking as I thought? Even if it was, what if I couldn’t get the lock open? Or the noise was enough to finally draw the attention of the guards?

Beyond that, should the plan work without a hitch, another part of it left a heavy weight on my shoulders. That is, I planned to make my escape while Diligent Duster was away. I still didn’t trust him and he was clearly unstable. There would almost certainly be more ruckus if he saw me trying to escape, whether it would be him insisting he come too or the still-very-real danger of him selling me out to simply buy his freedom. Further, while he was gone, there was a minimum window where the most frequently present guards were guaranteed not to walk in on me.

However, there was always the possibility that the next night would end up like this night, without Diligent Duster being called upon even once. If that were to happen, then, well, I’d just have to improvise.

After that came the ‘easier’ part. With more information on the lower floors, I’d decided to try to get out at ground level. After some thought, I’d realized my initial idea of mingling with the crowd was too risky. If what Diligent Duster said was true, the workers would likely give me up in a heartbeat. No, the fewer people who saw me, the better. I would sneak down and disappear into the night.

Then I’d have to sneak out of the city and fly as far as I could, preferably to one of the smaller towns. By that point, I’d likely be in dire need of supplies. It would be difficult to procure them without bits, but I’d just have to figure something out and hope the Cartel didn’t have too many people there on payroll.

With even a nominal set of supplies, I could lay low and forage in the wild, slowly working my way home. Granted, if I made it that far, I had no idea what I’d do. I’d hardly be any safer, maybe even less so. I supposed I could get lucky, that the Mob would decide to make their move and keep the Cartel’s attention.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Counting on a criminal organization unknowingly saving me from another—I had truly reached the furthest depths of desperation.

As the first rays of daylight clawed their way through my tiny window, fatigue finally caught up with me. All my tension was gone, consumed by the darkness. There was the clank of an iron gate, but I hardly heard it.

31 - Agendas

I awoke with a start. Every fibre of my body insisted that something was wrong, that I needed to go right that instant. What scared me even more, and almost became its own feedback loop, was that I immediately agreed with my instinct. This, despite there being no obvious danger in my cell or the hall, as well as the fact that it clearly wasn’t time yet; even that slit of a window could tell me that the sun was still high in the sky.

Quickly standing, I forced myself to take a series of deep breaths. Once I’d reined myself in, I took a proper assessment.

My cell appeared to be completely undisturbed and no thugs suddenly appeared to take me to my doom. All was quiet. That’s when I noticed that there was one thing: the door was just barely out of alignment with the rest of the bars. In fact, I couldn’t be certain it wasn’t the lingering haze of sleep playing tricks on me until I got closer. The door was ajar just enough to make it quite clear that it wasn’t locked.

This has to be a dream. I leaned down and bit my leg. Nothing.

There was no way this was a mistake. Carelessness aside, the guards had no reason to open the door in the first place. This was either some sort of sick game or someone on the inside was working to help me. The former was more likely, especially if Diligent Duster’s remark about Summer Leaf’s excitement over my arrival was to be believed; a little mundane payback before whatever ritual she had in mind was not inconceivable.

While I wished and hoped so badly for an ally, my mind knew the time frame just didn’t fit. I couldn’t have been here for more than a couple days, and as much as I love my friends, they hardly had the clout to access any kind of spy. First, they’d have to even realize I was gone, which was information that Mahogany could provide, but which the Cartel had deliberately engineered to come after we’d disappeared. Then, Night would have to get in contact with his father, who would have to not only predict where they’d take me, but also get in contact with whatever agents the Guard may have had in place. It was just too many thousand-to-one shots put together—not the kind of odds a mare like me hedges on.

Therefore, I had to assume they’d be on the alert, watching me. But that didn’t mean it was over just yet. I could play along, pretend to fall into their trap, then, when they got complacent and sloppy, make a break for it. The whole plan was far from ideal, somehow even managing to be worse than the lockpicking gambit, but beggars can’t be choosers.

If there was one advantage, it was that I wouldn’t have to smash a bed to make my escape attempt. Yet. From what I could remember, there were two doors. If the other was locked, I’d be right back to my original plan.

Nosing my door open, I peered down the hall. On the left, about ten feet from the end of my cell, was a barred gate, much like an upsized version of my cell door. Beyond that was a sharp turn that I was reasonably sure led to the stairwell I’d been led up.

On the right, the hallway continued for a length of about five more cells before ending with a large room. The room had a couple windows, in addition to a windowed door, that looked back into the hall. Even at this distance, it was easy to tell that they were tinted. Still, that style isn’t entirely one-way and any vague hint of silhouettes would be enough for me. To my relief, none of the windows had silhouettes of any kind, never mind pony-shaped ones.

I crept up to the gate, commanding it with my gaze to be open. It wasn’t a very good listener. What was worse was just eyeballing the lock told me that the thing could not reasonably fit any definition of ‘simple’. Jamming a bed bracket in there was just going to make me even more locked in.

The only way past was going to be with the genuine key. My eyes flitted back to the guard post.

If this was payback, they were likely all waiting for me. But strangely, I wasn’t afraid. I almost felt like I could take them on—more than that, that I had to find a way to make it work. I would get through this and I would get back to my friends.

With that, I started stalking down the hall. Though, as I neared Diligent Duster’s cell, I paused. Things had changed. This was no longer me noisily smashing things to get me out of my cell and making a break for it. If I were to get the keys, he would be on the way back, it would be silent and I wouldn’t have to mess around trying to open a lock with a bracket. And if I gave him a chance, maybe we could throw the Cartel off enough to make a clean getaway.

As I padded up to his cell, ready to gesture for silence, my heart fell. He wasn’t there.

His cell was also entirely bare, similar to mine, but with the old style of ‘bed’. I didn’t know what to think. For a long-time prisoner to not have any personal effects seemed odd, but at the same time, the Cartel obviously didn’t treat him well. This could extend to even the small things. Regardless of whether or not he was gone for good, I couldn’t exactly wait around and see.

With nothing to do but press forward, I realized I still had four more cells to pass by. If there were people inside and they figured out what I was doing, there could be trouble. From what Diligent Duster had told me, it was possible that I could incite them to riot or even something more organized. But I didn’t know that, either. I hadn’t had the same time to talk to them as him, to determine both their allegiances and their disposition. For all I knew, I could end up letting out some real crazies.

This left me with a couple choices. I could march down the hall like I owned the place, such that they’d assume I was just a guard. However, the noise risked alerting the real guards of where I was, and if anyone questioned it, they might recognize my voice. My other option was to just sneak past and hoped no one noticed me. The downside there was, should I be caught, there would be no talking my way out of that.

Of course, this assumed there was even anyone there. I hadn’t heard a peep from the other cells, nor the guards doing anything in this section. This was still no guarantee that the other prisoners weren’t just quiet, but it was a strong possibility.

With an inward sigh, I settled on sneaking. Both plans carried significant risk, but the only thing that would get me caught for sure would be waiting around. My heart was practically coming out of my chest as I stepped in front of the first cell.

It was empty.

The second and third were much the same, but they only served to make me wonder if my luck would run out with the next. As I approached the fourth, I was already sweating. Once I cleared the wall, I just about jumped out of my coat: a pony was staring right at me.

A second later, I felt like an idiot and then, almost like laughing. Almost. It wasn’t a pony, but a dress form, its eyes obscured by a tilted fedora and a blanket thrown over the body. I had to squint a little to see it, but a way-too-wide smile, the kind fictional serial killers are depicted with, was drawn across its muzzle in black permanent marker. The thing was also positioned perfectly to both be within the shadows of the cell and facing anyone who might approach from my direction. Summer Leaf wasn’t just toying with me—she wanted me to know.

I glanced at the guard post and felt my hooves become as iron. Even so, I was somehow able to keep my steps quiet as I lumbered up to the wall nearest the door. Pressing my ear up against the wall, I strained to hear something, anything. During that time, my eyes drifted over to, then locked onto, the dull grey door. It was just barely—by less than an inch—ajar.

Are they lying in wait? Some part of me didn’t care, wanted to rush in and catch them by surprise. I pushed the thought aside. While it could pay off and perhaps even in a big way, it was too risky. I needed to outwit the Cartel, not barrel in like a crazed warmonger trying to brute force her way through.

I nosed at the door as lightly as I could, darting back afterward, even though I felt no resistance. In fact, the door kept moving, giving way a couple more inches before exhausting its momentum. There was no one in that tiny bit of room and, while the cement floor was covered in dirt and scuffs, there were no shadows to speak of. Now I just had to clear the other three-quarters of the room.

Craning my neck, I tried to get an eye up to the closest window without giving myself away. Being closer hardly helped with the tint, but any movement at all would be enough to tell me if my shenanigans with the door were problematic.

When there wasn’t a sound, nor a flickering of shadow, I decided that was it. Something in the back of my mind objected, but I felt I could handle whatever was before me as I burst through the door.

That table must have been scared stiff. So scared, in fact, that it was already ready to give me all of its bits. The cards were all stacked up and packed away in the middle of the table. Must be quite the shark.

I shook the dumb thought from my head as I surveyed the room. There may have been no one there, but judging by the mess, they sure had left their mark. Casually discarded sports magazines, dirty magazines under those, empty beers cans, the works. I wondered if I was looking at a guard post or some young teenager’s room. After a moment, two words came to mind: Amber Lane.

As I tried to ward off guilt for things I couldn’t fix, I searched for more useful things. Sadly, there were no keys, weapons or tools; I couldn’t even find any food. I ended up stuffing as many of the bits as I could fit between the pages of one of the magazines and tucking it under my wing.

This left me with the matter of my route. Directly across from the door I’d entered was another, nearly identical door; the only difference was that the window wasn’t tinted. Through that, I could see a short hallway, then a gate, and another door. The gate was, quite suspiciously, wide open. But it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go. With what I had to work with, that other gate might as well have been a brick wall.

So I pressed forward, as quietly as possible, past the gate. When nothing happened, I edged the door open, expecting an army to be on the other side. My heart leapt when I saw that not only was there no army, but ahead of me was another stairwell. However, as I poked my head further in, my joy came to an abrupt end: this was the lowest floor. Instead, stairs went up many flights, likely to the roof. And that was probably where they’d be waiting.

I eased the door closed as I retreated back into the hallway to consider my options. Charging up to meet them was out of the question. Which left one of the other doors. Thing is, I had no idea what was behind any of them and the stairwell itself didn’t leave me many good options for fighting or retreating if said doors proved unfavourable. However, some chance was better than no chance. The question, then, was what I hoped to accomplish. Even if I could successfully infiltrate one of the floors, wandering around aimlessly was bound to end badly.

It was almost certain to backfire on me, but at that moment, my mind was set on one thing: another stairwell. I knew the one on the other side went lower, so if I could just find entry on another floor, perhaps I could get down to ground level, with Summer Leaf none the wiser. Of course, this required the floor to not be full of Cartel, the stairwell to not be full of Cartel and the Cartel on the ground floor to not notice me. But if it worked, I would be home free.

Emboldened by a plan in hoof, I slid out into the stairwell. As luck would have it, not only was the door to the next floor unlocked, but upon nudging it open, I was greeted by a wall of crates. I allowed myself a small smile; a warehouse floor would be the perfect place for me to disappear. It was a good thing that this first option panned out, because just as I was getting ready to slip through, the crash of a door hitting a wall echoed down the stairwell.

“You idiot. How could you forget that?” a male voice growled. “Go back and get it. Now.”

Once the door had shut, he grumbled something I couldn’t make out, but given the few words I did catch, he might have been insulting his companion’s mother. Something told me that this all had to do with the Cartel’s “voodoo room”, but I reined my curiosity in—I was already up to my neck in trouble as it was.

Once I was certain no one was on my side of the crates, I eased the door shut with extra care, bracing it with the entirety of my muzzle and slowly stepping backward. As it settled into place, I didn’t even hear the click of the latch.

Satisfied that I was safe, or rather, safer, for the moment, I began to explore the maze of crates. Most of them were the strong, wooden kind, but occasionally I’d pass by sections of cardboard stacks. They were generally about three boxes tall, although some stacks went higher. I considered looting them to try to find supplies, but none of them had much for meaningful labels, which led me to believe the greater majority of it was ‘product’.

Additionally, the lighting was more than a little poor. I mean, there were lamps with that old style of pull cord every few feet, but only a token amount of them were on along the side and near the centre of the huge, rectangular room. Unless I had a very strong reason to check a specific crate, I didn’t want to touch the lights, for fear of giving myself away. Sure, the place seemed empty, but there was no telling who might be hiding in the darkness—or even just working on whatever in the sections that were lit.

In fact, I was determined to skirt around anywhere there was light. That is, until I was passing by the centre of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted what must surely be my saddlebags, leaning up against an open crate. Other items, from knives to wallets and other bags, were strewn across the floor around it. The crate sat beside a small desk, where someone had abandoned a large platter of greens.

With great care, I circled the area, but it quickly became obvious that whoever had been working at this station was actually gone and not just sifting through something in the darkness. I glanced behind myself once more before sneaking over to my saddlebags. After giving the contents a onceover to determine it still had all my travel supplies, I slipped the bit-filled magazine in on top.

It took a bit of digging, but it wasn’t too hard to locate my scarf inside the crate of what I could only assume was old victims’ belongings. The empty sheath reminded me that my search was for naught, that my blade was still in Ponyville. I placed a hoof to my forehead.

After stuffing my scarf into my bags, I sifted through the remaining weapons, but there was nothing of real interest. The only knives I could find were larger ones with the mouth-handle and those weren’t something I was going to be able to use. Their cumbersome nature made them a liability to all but unicorns and the highly trained. And come to think of it, even if I had found a wingblade, I wouldn’t have known its magic words, anyway.

“Enjoying yourself?” came the voice of a stallion—one that, once I’d finished nearly falling face first into the crate, I recognized as Diligent Duster’s.

I whirled and there he was, standing at the edge of the light, staring straight at me.

“Hardly. What are you doing here?” My question was almost pure confusion, but the longer I watched him, the more suspicious I became. He still looked battered, but not in the same way as before. He didn’t slouch at all. In fact, he exuded an air of confidence. Facing him for the first time, I was finally treated to all the scars—and there were many. Putting it all together, I felt more like I was looking at an enforcer than forced labour.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He took a few steps forward.

I wanted to shy away, but I held my ground and his gaze. “You could, but do you really need to?”

“Hah. I guess not. Very well. I’m here to talk,” Diligent Duster said. When I didn’t give an immediate reply, he added, “Don’t worry, there’s no one else here. There won’t be for some time.”

“Oh? And how do you know that? Who are you really? One of her enforcers?”

He laughed. “Who? Summer Leaf? No. I’m not that bitch’s lackey. She can go to Tartarus for all I care.”

“Then who? They’re obviously not as concerned with keeping you as locked up as you claimed.” I squinted at him, daring not to hope. There was no way he could be a Guard, not the way he carried himself. But if he really didn’t have any love for Summer Leaf, perhaps we could make a deal.

“I’m no one,” he said. When I gave him a skeptical look, he continued. “The stallion I was died when my love did.”

“Amber Lane?” I raised an eyebrow, perhaps more than a little surprised that of all the things he probably lied to me about, the most intimidate detail was true. Then again, maybe he was still lying.

He nodded.

“So what does this have to do with me?”

“It’s about revenge.” His gaze hardened.

Things were starting to come together a little—and that potential deal with it. “Against Summer Leaf?”

“Yes and… you.” With that, the whole thing crumbled.

“What? Me?”

He looked me straight in the eye. “You killed her.”

Try as I might, the name didn’t bring anything to mind. Then again, I didn’t exactly know the name of everyone I’d fought. So I gambled. “You must have the wrong mare. I didn’t kill your marefriend.”

“Don’t lie to me, Dusky Down. I know what you did.”

A chill ran down my spine, but I kept my face straight. “I swear I’ve never heard the name.”

By this point, he wasn’t listening. “You were her last job. A wild card informant cowering behind a line of Guard. She should have been the one to come out of that alive. She was your better.”

What? That doesn’t make any— As the realization pierced through my fatigue, I felt like an idiot. Amber Lane is A.L., which can also be Autumn Leaf. Well... shit.

“I didn’t want to fight, you know.”

“Bullshit! Then why would you target the Cartel?”

“Because I didn’t. I took a thing I found on the ground and left it with the Guard. Anonymously.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“Regardless of what you believe, it’s the truth.”

“Enough. We’re done talking. Eat your meal so we can begin.” He motioned to the platter on the desk.

“What.”

“I’m not a monster. You’ll get your last meal before I put you down.”

I walked over to the platter, feigning compliance as I looked for a good escape route. There was no way I was winning a direct confrontation against someone his size. “What, no lobster?”

“I didn’t know you were a griffon.” He sneered. “Either way, this is better.”

If we were talking solely in expensive meals, he would be right. I hadn’t paid as much attention to the contents before, but as I scanned it with one eye, I was a bit startled to find that the entire bed of greens was Ghost Leaf. Which meant that the colourful bits garnishing it could only be one thing. I stared at both him and the food. It hurt a little.

“What’s wrong? Some ponies on the street would kill for premium Ghost Petal.” He frowned when I didn’t move, probably disappointed that his sales pitch didn’t have me scarfing it down. “You do know what it does, don’t you?”

“Yes. It’s one of the strongest parts of the plant, which defers pain and fear.” I continued to scan my surroundings, finally deciding that I preferred the passage to the right, which had less lights. No sense taking the shorter route if I couldn’t lose him. “Provided it’s prepared right.”

“It is. Can’t have the things end too early, now, can we?” The grin he gave me could slice through steel armour.

I sniffed at the dish, slipping a wing up against the platter. The thought did occur to me that if the Ghost Petal was genuine, it would give me an actual chance of being the one to come out of the fight. But only if he hadn’t taken it too—and he almost surely had. No, either way, indulging it would be a mistake.

With a quick turn, I flicked my wing, launching the meal right at his face, before darting off into the darkness. Behind me, I heard a dull clang, followed by a curse, then the platter clattering loudly across the floor.

“Get back here!” Diligent Duster bellowed, followed by the echoing crash of wood colliding with wood.

I kept running until I reached the closest wall. In fact, I was going so fast as I ripped around the corner that I almost slammed into it. Only a moment later did I realize that said wall also appeared to be a set of wide elevator doors. Without thinking, I mashed the button. I guess I hoped that Diligent Duster had taken it up and that the car was still there. No such luck.

Waiting around would be stupid, as the sound would almost assuredly tip him off. Then again, I could use that to my advantage, sneaking toward the stairs while the elevator drew him over. I didn’t get ten feet before some of the nearby crates launched forward with explosive force.

I dropped to my belly, just narrowly avoiding having my head pulverized, then rolled away hard to spare my back the same fate.

“You can’t hide from me!” Diligent Duster yelled, advancing at a slow, pointed speed that almost demanded I get up.

Obliging, I scrambled to my hooves, falling into a defensive stance as I inched my way backward. The crates didn’t break for several more feet, and the hallway they created was littered with some of Diligent Duster’s errant launches. It would be a death trap if he started throwing stuff again. Likewise, if I tried to fly, I’d be crushed in an instant. So I had to make him whiff and maybe find some way to physically slow him down, before I could make another break for it.

I darted toward him, but quickly backstepped as his forehoof lashed out. For someone who was so precise with his projectiles, his strikes were more than a little brutish. However, he made up for it by being fast, far faster than I’d given him credit for, and it took all my concentration to avoid the flurry of follow-up strikes and lunges.

One of my hind legs brushed against a crate and I almost didn’t sidestep in time. Diligent Duster’s stomp came down an instant later. The wood let out a sort of alien screeching crunch as its top buckled like paper. But as he pulled his leg away, he stumbled, and I saw my opportunity.

Bounding off the nearest crate, I lightly stepped off Diligent Duster’s back, getting just enough height to reach the top of the wall of crates. My hoofwork was probably unnecessarily daring, but since this wasn’t really the kind of maneuver I trained for, I was playing it by ear. Then again, it wasn’t often that I faced an opponent where anything short of a crippling blow was ineffective. As I touched the top, I spun, kicking off my hind legs to get just a bit more height. Then I let myself fall, bringing my forehooves down like a pair of sledges.

I missed.

By chance, he shifted his hind leg, which would have been the ideal target. If I had broken that, even if he could ignore the pain, there was a limit to how fast it could carry him. Instead, my hooves dug into his side, a blow that would have been incapacitating in any other situation. He barely flinched, audible crack be damned.

The inevitable counterattack found my face on the way up, then again on the way back down. I stumbled back, still on my hind legs, hardly realizing I was pinned against the crates before his head smashed into my chest. The crate wall crumbled behind me and I spun end over end until I was stopped by another stack of containers. I didn’t feel a thing, not even when my blurred vision cleared.

Diligent Duster stood over me and laughed. “Surprised? I knew you wouldn’t take my offer, so I had your food supplemented with ground Petal. Not the best way to administer it, but oh, well. I can just be more delicate!”

He turned and bucked, giving me just enough time to roll away. That crates that used to be behind me went flying.

As I scrambled to my hooves for the umpteenth time, I scolded myself for letting them get to me so easily. But if I was already stuck with it, perhaps I could make it to the stairs, regardless of how much he hit me. His next charge proved that that wouldn’t be so easy.

He only clipped me, but it was enough to send me crashing into another set of boxes. Diligent Duster himself careened into the crates obscuring the elevator. As they crumbled, I had a vision, one that I was certain must be the fault of the Ghost Leaf.

Standing in front of the elevator, with dumbfounded looks, were Night, Blaze, Mahogany, and a blurred mix between Noble Light and an ash-coated pony. To further my point, Diligent Duster didn’t even notice them, although they seemed to react quite realistically when he charged again.

I was almost too distracted to get out of the way. At this point, I had to wonder if he was causing as much collateral damage as possible on purpose. Regardless, I took the opportunity to push myself to my hooves and create some distance.

The almost-Noble-Light shimmered for a second before becoming actual-Noble-Light, which was really just a lighter grey pony. He leapt between Diligent Duster and I; when they collided, I started to realize that I wasn’t just seeing things.

“Riot!” Noble Light hissed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

So that’s his real name. But why does Noble Light know him?

Somehow, despite the size difference, the two seemed to be evenly matched for strength. Whenever this ‘Riot’ tried to push past, Noble Light pushed back.

“Out of the way, old fossil. You’ll get your turn.”

“Old fossil?! Riot, I am your commanding officer!”

“That’s why you’ll get your turn.”

“Have you lost your mind? What the hell are you talking about?” Noble Light’s indignance was palpable.

That’s when it hit me. The collateral really was intentional. “Autumn Leaf. He… he’s taking out everyone he thinks is responsible.”

“Thinks? THINKS?! You all threw her under the cart!”

“She was a criminal who got herself killed,” Noble replied coldly.

By now, my friends had surrounded me, defiantly brandishing weapons at Riot. Night had his hoofblade; Mahogany, a boxcutter; and Blaze held a long knife in her magic. There was so much I wanted to say, but we weren’t out of the woods yet.

“No!” Riot bellowed. “She wasn’t just a criminal! She was… she was...”

“A kind soul? Is that it?” I interjected, which got me a funny look from all my friends. “Then why would you do this in her name?”

“Because…” Riot’s face darkened. “I’m not as kind as her.”

He had barely finished speaking when he shoved Noble Light aside and lunged. From there, everything just deteriorated into a big melee. By all rights, a five-on-one should have ended instantly. But Riot, he was as a demon, sustaining more than a dozen stab wounds, all while tossing us away again and again.

As the fight continued, everyone began to slow, even Riot; Ghost Petal only did so much to mitigate sliced muscle. Although things were still quite hazy, there is one thing I remember that stuck with me. It was the grace with which Night fought. At first, I was grateful that he was keeping up. But the longer it went on, the less natural it felt. This wasn’t just a few weeks of tutelage under Starshadow at work. He moved with intent, striking at vital points like a trained killer.

At no point was this starker than the final blow. I’d struck at Riot’s foreleg one more time, leaving it even more battered than before. I could see the counterattack coming from a mile away as he raised his hoof. It was then, with the entirety of Riot’s attention on me that Night lunged in, plunging the hoofblade deep into Riot’s throat. Still, Riot wouldn’t yield, pushing forward.

Afraid that Night would be crushed beneath Riot’s corpse, I leapt behind him, bracing him with my own body. It was there, as I looked up at those sweaty, blood-covered stallions, at the murder in their eyes, that a chill slid down my spine. This was the price of fighting for passion.

32 - Delving Deeper

Night stood over Riot’s corpse, fixing a hollow stare upon the pooling blood. I knew the feeling too well. My eyes flitted over to Blaze; I’d also seen the effect too many times. That stallion with the killer instinct was gone, now, leaving a slumped one in his place. The whole thing still worried me. While it’s true that people can find more ferocity in the heat of battle, it had all been too refined, too deliberate, for the gap to be explained by adrenaline. What’s more, he was mumbling to himself.

“Sh-shut up. Just… shut up.” The words were barely audible, but there was a certain barb to them, like he was actually arguing with someone. My blood ran cold as, for a second, I saw Twilight instead of Night. But it couldn’t be—she and her friends had destroyed the Nameless; Princess Celestia had even had a stained-glass window made about the whole thing. Of course, I couldn’t deny the possibility that there were more of… whatever it was; I thought I felt the chill creeping into my bones. The best I could come up with, to convince myself to put off questioning until we were safe, was that it might ‘just’ be stress-induced hallucinations.

“Is… is it over?” Mahogany’s voice pierced the silence. He teetered a bit and had more than his fair share of superficial wounds, but I think he was the only one who could stand up relatively straight. Besides me, anyway, and I didn’t count, since I had unwanted help. When we got back to Ponyville, I’d have to check into the clinic at some point. I had no idea how I was going to explain away the Ghost Petal in my system, though.

“Yes. Yes, he’s dead. Damn you, Riot. Damn you for all of this.” Noble Light stood more to the side, a hard look on his face. Unlike Night, it was the troubled look of a veteran, realizing that this fight had much deeper implications.

Even just knowing that this Riot guy, if that was his real name, was supposed to be a Guard agent—Noble Light’s agent, at that—the last few months became so much clearer. Ever since I’d been discovered in Fetlock, the Cartel seemed to be one step ahead of me and I could never really figure out why. I almost wanted to laugh at myself. Despite all my efforts to avoid the corruption within the Guard, I chose the one direction that would have fed information to the King of All Moles. I made a mental note to press Noble Light for more information; both my friends’ and my safety depended on knowing just how bad the damage was.

“How… how can anypony have that much blood?” Blaze asked, her voice distant and exhausted. While she had fewer visible wounds, I knew she’d also taken at least one good spill during the fight. My gaze followed hers, back to the mess that was Riot’s corpse. Even though we’d seen more than a few things together, knowing her, she was struggling to not freak out.

I allowed everyone a few more seconds, but the reality of the situation was that we were all in serious danger. Whatever composure everyone could muster would have to do: we had to get out. Trotting up beside Night, I opened my mouth, and the floor shook. I stumbled back, holding a wing up against the falling dust as a thunderous boom echoed through the entire room.

“Whoa!” Blaze looked at Noble Light. “Uh, was that it?”

“Was that what?” I asked. Of course, there was no question that it was a distraction, but given the aftermath, I was afraid of just how far they’d gone.

“That is our distraction. We need to move,” was all Noble Light said. As useless as his answer was, clarification would have to wait. For now, being more or less on the same page would have to be enough.

Night finally noticed me. “Dusky? Are… are you okay?”

I should be asking you the same. But urgency stayed my hoof. “Night Light… yeah, I… I’m fine, thank you.”

He took a few steps forward, stopping short as he became aware that he was covered in blood. “We… we should go.”

“They’re going to be panicked now, right? We can head up and strike before they know what’s coming.” Blaze stomped her hoof dramatically.

“You can’t be serious, Blaze.” I knew she wasn’t, that it was all bravado, but it had to be said, before anyone else decided it might be a good idea.

“No. We’re in no condition to deal with the numbers they have, especially not now,” Noble Light said.

“I... I just want to get you out of here, Dusky,” Night added. At this point, the lost look in his eyes had faded, replaced by fear. I leaned in, nudging at his chin. We couldn’t let it get to him, not here. He pressed his muzzle against my cheek; the motion almost mechanical, but if it helped him focus, that was good enough. “Thank Luna you're safe.”

I glanced at Noble Light. “What’s the plan?”

“Mint is already down on the stairs waiting, and when the explosives went off, she should have ensured we wouldn't have any more company. If everything went right, Merriweather and Starshadow are gone, and Mint will join us.” He pointed at the far stairwell, the one I’d been seeking all this time. “We head down, avoid any fires, hopefully avoid any guards, and try to escape in the panic. They'll have plenty more to worry about soon enough.”

Explosives?! I felt my throat dry up. There had to be something more to it than that, there just had to be. Otherwise, even if we got out, this could only escalate in a way that would never end. I took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away. I turned back to Night. “Sounds simple enough. But first, we need to cover you up.”

“Me?” He followed my gazed down to his blood-soaked coat. “Oh… right.”

I dashed over to the nearest set of crates—or what was left of them, retrieving one of the tarps and laying it at Night’s hooves. “Wipe off your hooves on this.”

While he complied, I dug through my flight satchels. Fortunately, my cloak was still there. I threw it over Night’s back. While it wouldn’t cover the spatters on his face, they were small enough that it wasn’t worth drawing the hood.

“There. You won’t draw nearly as much attention on the way out.”

He cracked just the barest of smiles. “Thanks, Dusky.”

Noble Light trotted over to the stairs. “Alright, good. Dusky, stick close to Night. He knows where to meet up if we get separated. Mahogany, you and Blaze are in the best shape, so you'll head down first.”

Mahogany gave him a funny look. “Sure, right. I feel like a million bits.”

“No hassle. Just as long as he can keep up with me.” Blaze smiled, heading off further complaint in her own way.

“Hey, I pulled the cart that got you here. I mean, I literally carried you this far.”

Noble Light sighed. “Go now. Chat later.”

With that, Mahogany and Blaze pushed into the stairwell. Going in waves made sense, especially since, despite the distraction, people would be on alert. However, I wondered just how long we could really afford to wait. I watched closely as Noble Light mouthed his way to ten. As soon as he finished, he waved us through.

I could already smell the smoke, faint as it was, as we rushed down the stairs. My ears twitched as the distinct crackling of fire echoed up to us. I felt the hair on my back rise; there were few things I wanted less than to be cooked alive in a Cartel hideout.

Mint Creme was waiting two floors down, an unconscious unicorn at her hooves. Her eyes briefly flitted back to us, but otherwise she kept watch on the second floor proper. “It's getting hot down there, so just get down to the first floor and go straight out the side. Once you're on the street, get as far as you can before heading to the rendezvous.”

Night stopped to nod at her. “R-right. See you soon, Sis’.”

“Go!” Mint Creme shouted.

With a start, he scrambled down the stairs. The further we went, the more visible the smoke. We couldn’t see the fire, but from the sound of it, it was very near. I cringed a little. If it got out of control, it could spread to the street and nearby buildings. That put not only us in danger, but every bystander as well. I hoped they were smart enough to stay clear.

As we hit the bottom, the path split. Night turned one way, but the only thing at the end of that hall was a shut door, barely holding back thick, black plumes. I glanced behind us and immediately caught the glow of an exit sign. The door beneath was already ajar.

I prodded at Night’s side. “That way.”

As we burst into the alley, I found myself squinting, my eyes no longer used to the full light of the sun. I was just barely able to get a hoof on Night in time, before he got off the ground. We couldn’t fly here, especially not the way he looked.

“Not yet.” I motioned for him to follow as I moved toward the mouth of the alley. “Stay low, stick to the alleys. Do you know which way to go to get back to your rendezvous?”

Night spun a few times, as though he wasn’t quite sure. “It's... that way.”

“Then lead the way.”

Time seemed to grind to a halt, my senses going into overdrive. Every sound, every movement, every scent—none escaped me. My entire body was tense, like an overwound winch, just waiting to snap. As we fled the paper plant, I kept wondering when, from its dozens of windows, someone was going to spot us. Any moment now, some sort of air force would swoop down and assail us.

But once we were over a block away, ducking into another alley, I allowed myself to indulge the thought that maybe, just maybe, the distraction was enough to let us make a clean getaway. While I wouldn’t be able to fully relax until we were out of the city, this was definitely a good start. At least I wouldn’t implode under my own anxiety.

The tension faded with each successive alley, until we were too far away for anything other than active pursuit to find us. As we entered somewhere around our fourth or fifth, a sharp whistle cut through the shadows. It didn’t take long to find the source: Merriweather was barely trying to hide. She and Star were already hitched up to what looked like an EPS wagon. Blaze stood in the back, while Mahogany hovered beside her. I had to wonder if they’d actually had a plan or if the whole explosives thing was an improvisation.

“Dusky!” Merriweather flashed me a wide grin. “The only thing that could make this better was if you'd gotten to see how cool I was.”

I got the sinking feeling that she’d been the one handling the explosives. Improvisation was looking more and more likely.

Star rolled her eyes, although it wasn’t enough to dislodge her own smile. “You can tell her all about it once we're out of the city.”

“Agreed,” Noble Light said as he trotted in behind us; Mint Creme was just a few paces behind him. “Night, Dusky, get in and lay low. Mint, Mahogany, and I will be flying out while Starshadow and Merriweather pull.”

“We're not going to fly out?” Night asked.

“It's too risky this close. You and Dusky are bit too... suspicious looking.”

Night looked down at his coat. Even with my cloak, someone discerning could easily figure out what the stains were. “Ah, um... right.”

I sat on all fours, trying to keep my profile as small as possible. It was a bit difficult with three of us inside, two of whom had to more or less sprawl out.

Night sighed as he finally settled in beside me. “Soon, we'll get as far from this damned city as we can get.”

His voice had that whole bitter tone, the kind that showed the situation was getting to him again. Leaning in, I pressed up against his neck. “Thank you, Night Light. I'm sorry.”

“What? Why? Why are you sorry?”

“For worrying you. For making you come all the way out here.” I glanced up at him. “For making you... kill.”

“I... I did worry, of course I did. But, that's because I love you. As for the rest, coming out here was nothing... a-and... I hope I never have to kill again.”

I nodded, even though I knew that so long as he was with me, that was little more than wishful thinking. “I always hope the same thing. But... stuff like this just keeps happening.”

Night looked down. “I guess that just means I need to try harder, so that there won't be a next time. And when there is, I... I just want to do what I can to protect my friends.”

---

We sat in silence until we were out of the city and even some distance beyond that. Fatigue aside, I think we were all too busy keeping an eye out. Filly was still Cartel territory and we were more or less hiding in plain sight.

The meeting point was just off one of the back roads, hidden behind a thick grove of trees. We beat Mahogany, Noble Light and Mint Creme by more than a couple minutes. Such are the pains of making a discreet aerial approach.

Noble Light glanced at each of us. “Good, everypony is accounted for.”

“In that case,” I said, “we need to find a place to bathe. Preferably somewhere that doesn’t involve more flying.”

“W-we do?” Night blushed as he stared at me.

Wasting no time, Merriweather added, “Oh, my~.”

With a sigh, I shook my head. “Not the time.”

“Don’t worry,” Mint Creme grinned. “I gotcha covered. Already scouted out something nice and secluded.”

Night’s face went redder. “S-sis’?”

“Look, in Filly, we had the benefit of the confusion and the city’s oversaturation of scents. We stay like this—” I pointed a forehoof at a particularly large splotch on Night’s foreleg, “—for long and it’s going to stink. Sooner or later, it’s going to attract uncomfortable questions. Or predators. Maybe even both.”

“Oh. Um, that makes sense.” The colour faded from Night’s face, though the rest of the embarrassment remained.

“Well? What are you waiting for? It’s not like that water’s going to come to you,” Mint Creme said, motioning deeper into the trees.

After about a minute, we came to a small, oblong lake. Greenery lined each side of the water, but the area around the spot she’d chosen was especially thick. It was dense enough to act as a shield for anyone who was in the water, and a couple sentries around the remaining shore would surely be able to detect any unwanted guests.

The water proper was a bit muddy, but almost any scent other than blood would be preferable. In fact, it would probably give us more credibility as a random group of travelers. In any event, my coat was already starting to feel a bit crusty, so I wasn’t about to get picky.

Shrugging my flight satchels off, I trotted up to the very edge of the water. “We should do this as quickly as possible. Even this far out, we can’t let our guard down. Keep an eye on the tree lines.”

“Oh! Um, okay!” Night said, quickly turning away from me.

“Not you, Night. You need to bathe too.”

“R-right. You can, um, go first. You need your p-privacy.”

I sighed. Even without seeing his face, I could tell he was blushing. But I was too tired to argue the point and odds are, in the time it would take to convince him to come in with me, I could have already gotten the blood out of my own coat and had him on his way.

The water felt odd. It was cold, but in a dull sort of way, like my body didn’t really care. As I gave my coat a few minutes to soak, I wondered just how much Ghost Petal I’d ingested. If it had been successfully concealed in a few meals, it probably wasn’t a dangerous amount. Still, I both dreaded and couldn’t wait for the effects to wear off. With all the pain blunted, it was impossible to tell just how much of a beating I’d taken.

It didn’t take long to get rid of the blood. Aside from a bit of scratching here and there, it mostly just fell away. I supposed it was still relatively fresh. And if there were any lingering bits, they were probably ejected when I shook my coat out.

I decided to get some distance from the bathing spot. If Night couldn’t be in the same lake with me, I doubted he’d be any more comfortable if I stuck around.

Noble Light was sitting by the cart, staring off into the woods. At first, I thought he might have noticed something, but as I strained my eyes and ears, nothing stood out to me. As I approached, he looked my way.

“Has Night finished?” he asked.

“No, he just started.”

Noble Light nodded.

We sat in silence for a few moments, but I had too many questions bouncing around my head for it to last. “You mind if I ask you something?”

“Depends on the question.” His reply was tired. He had a contemplative slump going on that reminded me of a certain other stallion.

“It’s about that Riot guy. He seemed to know you. What was his deal?”

“White Riot.” Noble Light sighed. “He was supposed to be my pony on the inside. We worked years to get him up through the ranks. He was good. He immediately hit it off with one of their leaders.”

“Autumn Leaf.”

“Yeah. She took a shine to him for some reason, so he was our eye on the inner circle.” The lines on his face deepened, somehow making him look even more tired. “Their leaders have always been elusive. Everypony knows what they’re doing, but nopony ever steps up.”

It’s no wonder. It was all I could do to keep the quip to myself.

He continued, “We needed to know when they’d slipped up, something decisive that didn’t require outside testimony. But something went wrong.”

“He fell in love.”

“So it seems.” Noble Light closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. When he opened them again, he looked straight at me. “I’m sorry, I should have seen it coming.”

“How?” I arched a brow.

“His reports were getting sparser, vaguer. Of course, that’s not enough by itself, but the most damning thing of all, well… Do you remember, years ago, when you helped us?”

For just a second, I could smell the smoke again, see the flash of metal as it streaked toward me. “How could I forget?”

“That assault, the one where you killed Autumn Leaf; we didn’t know until it was practically upon us. He came with them. One of our agents found him lingering at the edge of the base. He claimed the Cartel was on high alert, that he was barely able to get the message out. We bought it back then, but now… I think he couldn’t make up his mind.”

“Until she died.” I looked down. “Then he chose no one.”

Noble Light nodded.

There’s a saying that the best lies are those woven with some measure of truth. The more I thought about what Noble Light had said, the more I saw it in White Riot’s Diligent Duster. When he’d said he’d been imprisoned for a long time, he wasn’t referring to our physical situation. No, his was a cell without bars. To the Cartel, he was the buffoon who came back instead of Autumn Leaf. Among his Guard peers, the mare he loved was a menace who got what she deserved. Was he really so desperate to convince someone of her worth that he came to one of his nemeses? Perhaps he was just trying to get into my head, but I couldn’t say for certain—it’s not like I knew Autumn Leaf either. Our only encounter had been when she was enraged, trying to shove a knife down my throat. It was silly, but part me wanted to believe that had her circumstances been different, maybe she could have really been whatever he saw in her. I mean, it’s not like she had a cutie mark for murder.

33 - Costs

Despite the lack of pursuit from the Cartel, the flight back to Ponyville was painful. There was so much I wanted to say and discuss that our little bath break hadn’t allowed for. But the sky was as public a place as any given road; talking there could be a fatal mistake. So I was left to my thoughts, even as I wanted to thank all of my friends, to cry out apologies; my blunder had caused them pain as surely as though I’d done it with my own hooves. I could only imagine what Mahogany had gone through to end up in that alley. The worst part was that there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. Even with White Riot out of the picture, it was impossible to distinguish just how much of the Cartel’s zeal had been his doing. I doubted Summer Leaf had forgotten what I’d done.

I insisted on doing my fair share of flying—I wasn’t about to make my friends do all the work. When Night objected on the grounds that I’d been fighting, I pointed out that so had everyone else. We all needed to do our part, myself included. So on the next shift change, I hitched myself up beside Mint Creme.

A side benefit was that navigation took my mind off of my worries. Not that it was especially hard or confusing, but I hadn’t been to Filly in so long that I had to think to recall the routes. It also helped that Mint Creme and I were of the same mind when it came to direction.

While we were technically in wild weather territory, the skies were completely calm; the overly neat arrangement of clouds were a sure sign that a weather patrol had just been through. There was also a distinct lack of people—both in the air and on the ground—but that wasn’t too surprising. Normal travelers would have set out hours ago.

This meant we had to keep moving, as it would be easy for the Cartel to spot us. On the upside, this also meant it would be pretty obvious if someone was even giving us funny looks. Regardless, shift after shift passed without incident. The first few times, it put me even more on edge, but by the time we were halfway to Ponyville, I had to admit that we were probably safe. And so my thoughts returned.

By the time we touched down in the alley outside the Seapony, I was a big bottle of emotion. Now that we didn’t need to dedicate all of our energy to the escape, I became a whirlwind of hugs, apologies and thank yous. I still felt that it wasn’t safe to mention any specifics, but the hugs saved me from needing to make any kind of explanation. However, as I approached Mahogany, he pulled back, only half-heartedly returning the hug. I frowned a little, but couldn’t really blame him—I’d been the one to bring calamity upon him. There was definitely more I needed to say.

“Thank you again.” I looked everyone over, their features hidden beneath the falling twilight. “I owe you all so much.”

“Hey, we all know you’d have done the same for us.” Blaze grinned a grin that somehow looked both exhausted and forceful. “And don’t you deny it. I know firsthoof.”

A chaotic consensus of nods and verbal acknowledgements followed, which included Night stepping forward to give me another hug. As we parted, he looked right at me. “Um, so what now?”

I gave everyone the widest smile I could muster. “It’s been a long… however long we were out. Everyone should get some rest. You deserve it.”

“Wait, what about my awesome tale of awesomeness~?” Merriweather met my smile with a grin.

I shook my head. “I’m sure we’ll all be happy to hear it when we’re a bit fresher.”

“Oh, okay. Well, everyone hurry up and sleep! Drinks on me tomorrow night~!” She reared up, motioning broadly with both forehooves.

Star shook her head, but said nothing.

A giggle escaped my lips as I turned to Mahogany. “Before you go, could I ask you a question about the thing? I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, yeah. Uh, sure thing.” Apprehension crossed his face again as he looked away. It was at that moment that I started to suspect that it wasn’t me who he was blaming. We needed this talk more than ever.

Barkeep had a room set aside the moment I approached the counter. All things considered, it probably wasn’t very hard for someone to guess what I wanted. Still, it injected more wariness into my thoughts—I needed to make sure I never became too predictable to a casual observer.

A couple minutes later, Mahogany and I were seated in one of the back rooms, a couple Buzzards and a cider between us. Mahogany was already halfway through one of the Buzzards, his eyes buried in the remaining drink.

“I’m sorry, Mahogany.”

He set his drink down and let out a somber chuckle. “You’re sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have gone after you.”

“Yeah, and if I wasn’t the weak link, they wouldn’t have kidnapped you.”

“No, Mahogany, they brought too many bodies. No one could have won a fight like that. Chances are they went after the first pony they saw.”

He laughed again. “I didn’t fight.”

“Against those numbers? No one can blame you.”

Mahogany reached for his drink, but stopped, his hoof resting against it. “I wanted to. I would’ve if I’d known.”

He stared past me for what felt like forever. I watched him carefully as I spoke, making sure my voice was gentle, but firm. “Mahogany?”

“I remember this old guy and a package. It was wrapped all wrong. I had to open it to fix it. There was this dust and then I felt dizzy. Next thing I knew, you were standing over me.” He slammed back the last of the first Buzzard.

My heart sank and my legs carried me of their own accord, rounding the table and wrapping Mahogany in a tight hug. He stiffened and I felt even worse. “I’m so sorry, Mahogany. No one should have to go through such an awful experience. Please don’t blame yourself. A trap like that would have gotten anyone.”

Mahogany snorted. “They wouldn’t have got you.”

“What?”

“You’re Super Dusky.” He traced a circle in the air with his hoof. “All prepared and shit. Like that Batmare pony everyone’s talkin’ about.”

It was my turn to laugh; the taste was bitter. “This again? I’m flattered, but if I was really that good, they wouldn’t have found us. No one would have to suffer if it wasn’t for me.”

He sighed. “At least you tried.”

“So did you. Regardless of the trap, things would have eventually caught up to me. And when things get that bad, most people would just turn and run—but you didn’t. You were there for me. You’re a good friend, Mahogany. Never forget that.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” I hugged him again.

“I should go,” he said, standing and guzzling the second Buzzard.

“Get some rest.”

“I will.” Mahogany trotted toward the door, but stopped to glance over his shoulder. He stood there a good few moments. I wasn’t sure if he was going to even say anything else, but, finally, he opened his mouth. “And… thanks, Dusky.”

“Likewise, Mahogany.”

As the door closed behind him, I let out a sigh. Could have gone worse, I guess.

I needed to do something more for him, something with a bit more substance than a couple hugs. There was still the spa idea, but I still had a feeling he might be too embarrassed to go. An easy one would be more Buzzards, but I didn’t want to just default to that. I decided I should ask Night, see if he could come up with anything I missed.

I finished my own cider, maybe a bit faster than usual, and headed out. Night, Star and Merriweather were sitting at our usual table, with only a single drink in front of Merriweather. Night didn’t even have any tea.

As soon as I cleared the hallway, Merriweather turned, her foreleg a red blur as she called out, ”Dusky!”

For Star and Merriweather, this could have been any other night. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. They were combat veterans who had likely undergone many dangerous missions. While it would be foolish to think they didn’t feel anything, I’d wager they had plenty of practice coping.

Night, on the other hoof, still looked troubled. As I sat down beside him, I noticed his bracer sitting near the middle of the table, as though he’d pushed it away.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

He smiled broadly, whatever had been bothering him forgotten for the moment. “Me? I... good. Good.”

“Alright, good.” Something about the bracer drew my eyes again. I wasn’t sure what, but it left me vaguely unsettled. “Did I miss anything while I was back there?”

“I do believe Night Flurry was just going to talk about a problem he is having,” Star answered. “Dusky, is the back room still open?”

“Yeah, should be.”

“Then I think we had best move this there.” Star stood, beckoning to us.

Night glanced at me. “Do... you mind?”

My gut told me that he was about to answer all the questions that had been building up over our escape. For that, I could push myself a bit harder. I leaned in and nuzzled at his chin. “Of course not.”

In one smooth motion, Merriweather finished her drink and turned to follow her sister. Night and I were right behind her. As we settled in around one of the back room’s tables, I was struck by how strange it was that for once, I wasn’t the one calling the meeting.

Night looked down as he turned to us. “I, uh... there's an issue.”

Star nodded, her eyes more on the bracer than Night as he placed it on the table. “This is related to the psychometric response you experienced once before? Have you encountered another vision?”

Gritting his teeth in such a way that I wasn’t sure if it was more embarrassment or pain, Night answered. “No, not exactly. It's more like, you said this bracer once belonged to Bellerophon, right? Well, he, um... still owns it.”

“Elaborate.” Star was suddenly very focused.

“Well, he, um, is kind of... in there. I didn't realize it at first, it was like overhearing a whisper, but then, when Dusky was taken…”

In there. I froze, those words echoing in my head a third and fourth time. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. All I could do was hope I was jumping to conclusions. “Night?”

“I had a dream... he offered to help me. He would show me. He would help me fight, he would help me to... t-to save you.” His entire body sagged. “I couldn't bear it. I agreed.”

Night… no, what have you done? I recalled a purple horn, lightning arcing everywhere. Empty eyes, yet so focused on me—someone had been home, but not Twilight.

I shook my head. Now was not the time. I had to focus. My whole body felt numb, but somehow the words still came out. “And what was the cost?”

“No... no cost.” Night shuffled his hooves. “Except... he's... he's in my head. He's in my head, because I thought... I thought I needed him to make me stronger.”

I saw the lightning again.

“Sh-shut up, I told you, I'm not going to lie to my friends. I'm not…” Night said to the floor, his words snapping me out of my stupor. “I didn't want this, Star.”

Star frowned deeply. “Trust me, if we had even the slightest suspicion, we would not have given the artifact to you.”

“Dang, Night, I just... dang. I had no idea.” Merriweather’s eyes fell on the bracer, locking on with an uncharacteristically solemn stare. After a few moments, her eyes fixed on Night with a look that could only be described as desperation. “Wait, he's in there now? Can he hear us? Hello, Belly! What do we have to do to make ya stop bugging our friend?”

Star tilted her head. “Sister, I am not so sure that is a wise course of action.”

“He, uh, says no.” Night’s voice was apologetic.

“Aww, come on, Belly!” Merriweather placed both forehooves around his head and shook with worrisome force. “Oooooiiii! Wake up!”

“Merriweather! Stop!” I jumped to my hooves, but Night was already pushing her away.

“Do not touch me,” he said in a voice that was his, but with the tone so clearly off as to mark it alien. I shuddered.

Fright washed over Night as he pulled his hoof back. “I… Merri… I’m sorry.”

“Err, not your fault, Night.” Merriweather took a step back and cast a worried glance at Star. “Not your fault.”

I stepped in front of Night, taking care not to make any sudden movements. Looking him right in the eye, I called out, “Night?”

“Dusky… I’m here.” He was definitely back to speaking as normal. I let out a long sigh.

Star had one eye on the bracer and the other on Night. “That is worrisome. It is certainly going to require more research. I only worry that away from Ostfriesen we will not have access to the proper documents.”

“Sis’? If this is because of me, then maybe it should be me who goes back?” Merriweather asked. I hadn’t seen her this somber since Fetlock.

“Out of the question, Merriweather. You were banished.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You were banished! You know what will happen if you go back.” Star’s voice had an edge to it that I really couldn’t blame her for. I’d only thought they’d left on a journey, but this... this made everything much more complicated. As we were, this was unlikely to go anywhere good.

I cleared my throat until I had everyone’s attention. “Either way, we need to figure this out, and bickering isn’t going to solve anything. And frankly, none of us are going to do any good without a full night’s rest.”

Star sighed. “Dusky is right. Without all the information we can gather, it would be unwise to act. The consequences could be permanent.”

“Alright, fine.” Merriweather threw up her hooves. “We'll all get some rest, and figure out what to do about Belly later.”

“In the meantime, will you be alright, Night?” Star asked.

“I… yeah. I think so, Star. I… I can manage.” Night’s smile was clearly forced, but I had to respect him for trying.

I nuzzled at his cheek, giving him what reassurance I could spare. “No more experimenting with artifacts we don't know anything about, okay?”

A nervous laugh escaped his lips. “I can honestly say, that's not a promise I thought I'd ever have to make, but, um... yeah. No more of that.”

“It's not something I ever thought I'd say either.” I couldn’t help but match his laugh. At that moment, I decided I couldn’t hold back this melting pot of emotions any longer. “In any event… Night Light, there’s something I want to give you.”

“Give me…?” He gave me a confused look. “Dusky, you don’t have to give me anything.”

“Oh, I think I do.” I grinned as I closed the distance again, this time kissing him right on the lips. He was startled a moment, but very quickly, I could tell he was into it. My heart fluttered as we held it for a few seconds, then a few seconds more, pretending that we were just another two ponies, going about our lives, with nothing to threaten them. When we pulled away, he gave me the dopiest smile.

I met his smile—and his eyes. “We were a little short on time when I really wanted to give that to you. I hope you don't mind.”

“M-mind? I... n-no! Not at all, Dusky. ...N-not at all.” His voice was that of a mouse.

I wrapped him in a tight hug, which he returned just as quickly.

When next he spoke, his voice was a bit more normal. “I'm so glad you're safe. Dusky... I... I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Night Light.”

34 - Normal

The rest of the evening was a bit hazy. After I parted ways with Night, the toll of the previous days finally struck me full on. My body felt detached from my mind, like it was moving on its own. Not that that mattered much, anyway, as I could hardly think anymore. All I knew was that I couldn’t deal with heading back to my apartment now. While there was a very good chance that it was still uncompromised—otherwise the Cartel’s thugs would have tried to ambush me there, rather than some alleyway—I didn’t want to make any further missteps. Thankfully, there were rooms right above me, just waiting to be rented.

Night caught up to me while I was getting my key, calling out to me, even though I was only about three feet away. “I, uh... y-you know... if you want, I... I can just, um, here. I can... be here for you... tonight.”

It was a surprisingly bold move. I mean, I’d hoped he would, but once I’d left the back room, I had to assume it wasn’t in the cards. While I could have asked him directly, I preferred that he didn’t feel obligated.

I remember giggling as I replied, “I wouldn't mind having somepony to snuggle with.”

The rest is a little hazy, but I do remember getting a bit flirty. It was hard not to, with the night as charged as it was. But given that I hadn’t scared him off, Night must have felt the same.

The last thing I remembered was leaning up against Night, thinking just how soft his chest was.

---

Morning came too quickly. Not that I didn’t sleep well—just the opposite, in fact. I was so worn down that I was pretty sure I could have just laid there the rest of the day.

I eased my eyes open. While the blinds were still closed, the most persistent of yellow light slipped past; the day was easily approaching noon. Despite little experience with the Seapony’s hotel rooms, I didn’t even have to look at the whole thing to tell where everything was. And judging by the beige lamp sitting on the brown nightstand, I was pretty sure Barkeep wasn’t too concerned with being trendy, which was just as well. It’s not like the Seapony was known for its hotel rooms.

Night was already up, although it looked like he’d hardly even moved. He was staring past me, his mind likely fixed on the last few days. It didn’t take long for him to notice me and as his eyes refocused, both colour and smile crept up his face.

I smiled back. “Good morning.”

“Yeah… Good morning, Dusky,” he said and leaned forward.

I pressed up against his cheek, returning his nuzzle. There was just this fine line of extra warmth where I swore I could trace his blush. I don’t know why—maybe it was just the drugs wearing off—but something about it felt more real, as if it wasn’t until that moment that I realized I wouldn’t wake up to find myself back in that cell.

But here I was, snuggling with my special somepony, when, months ago, I would have thought it impossible. To find someone who would stick with me through all this madness, especially after surviving direct encounters with said madness, and for him to convince me to even let him that close in the first place—that had to be one-in-a-million odds. But here we were, sleeping in like some sort of normal couple.

“Did... did you sleep well?” he asked.

I grinned. “Best in weeks. You?”

“I can't think of a time I've slept better…” He smiled that same sappy smile he always does.

“Glad to hear.”

Night looked sad for a moment, but quickly returned to his smile. “The only bad part is knowing that eventually, I'll have to get out of bed…”

“Yeah. As comfy as this is, I need to think about visiting the clinic.” There was the distinct possibility my day would end there, but I really hoped that wasn’t the case. I needed to talk to Rainbow Dash. This was my second time skipping out in such a short period. Even if she was in the know as far as extenuating circumstances existing, I needed to apologize.

Concern spread over Night’s face. “I-is something wrong?”

I shook my head. “I hope not. I mean, I feel fine right now, but I was just in a serious fight and a captive of the Cartel. I should get a check-up to be safe.”

“Oh, um… I sh-should probably do that too, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably. That whole brawl was quite the ordeal for everyone. Plus, it might be good to check for side effects to the other thing.”

Night shrunk a bit. “R-right. The… other thing.”

I nudged him under his chin. “We’ll get it figured out.”

---

Skipping lunch wasn’t ideal, but I’d already put the clinic visit off long enough. In truth, I probably should have gone in the night before, but it would have been an even bigger risk than heading home. In fact, I still had some concerns. However, it had to be done, and daytime was about as safe as it was going to get.

The sun beat down on my coat, hard enough that I was already sweating—before the Seapony was even out of sight. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was the weather or the fact that my senses had been skewed the last few days. Maybe it was a bit of both.

I picked up the pace, but only a bit. Any more would only make me more conspicuous and worry Night. Of course, ten seconds later, all this care and caution became moot.

“Dusky! Flurry!” Rainbow Dash’s voice rang out. I winced. Before I could blink, a blue streak collided with the ground, sending gravel flying everywhere. The dust had hardly settled when she was already in my face.

Her eyes shot over to Night, then back to me. “Where have you two been?”

“U-um…” Night looked away.

“Things came up. Bad things,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to elaborate. At least, not until after the clinic. “Sorry, Rainbow Dash.”

“Right, bad things. Next time, let me know, so that I can cover for you. Or help kick some flank.” A grin spread up Rainbow Dash’s face as she winked.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. There was just something weird about my weather patrol boss offering to help me fight criminals, even if she was a national hero. “Well, hopefully I won’t need to, but I’ll try. I can’t really guarantee it if things get really… in case they get really...”

My body suddenly felt sluggish, knees locking up as my words failed me. I opened my mouth again, but a piercing pain cut straight through me, numbing everything else in its wake. It was everywhere, as though each one of White Riot’s blows were hitting me all at once. Shivers became quakes.

My innards were trying to escape through every side of my body. Instinct spread across my mind like a wildfire, urging—no, demanding that I break off into a gallop. A single thought rose above it all, flashing over and over in front of my mind's eye.

Get to the clinic!

Through sheer force of will, I raised a hoof. It was no use—the pain’s control had become absolute.

The ground rose up to meet me.

---

Next thing I knew, my nostrils were being assaulted by the scent of strong medication and sterile bandages. My whole body felt tender, leading to the odd sensation of the clinic sheets being uncharacteristically soft, except where there was significant creasing. I let out a sigh as my eyes drifted open. I’d underestimated the effects of Ghost Petal, and it had almost cost me. In fact, there was no guarantee it still hadn’t cost me.

The ceiling and its lights blended together into one overwhelmingly white blotch. After several blinks did little, I turned my head. I was greeted by an IV stand, a full bag feeding down into my left foreleg.

Great. How reassuring.

Just behind the rack was one of those stubby, white hospital cabinets; I would have barely noticed it was even there if not for the vibrant brown book sitting on top of it. I had to squint a little, but even from this angle, I could instinctively tell that the tan blob on the cover was Daring Do.

“Dusky?” Terra’s voice pulled my eyes beyond the equipment to the cluster of visitor chairs. She was seated far forward, peering at me over a half-lowered copy of Equestrian Bride. While I was a bit confused, that green muzzle was a welcome beacon in a sea of sterile white. Before I could even raise an eyebrow, she'd tossed her magazine onto the end table and darted over to me.

Her hug was careful and measured, as though she was afraid she might break me. To be perfectly honest, given how I felt, that probably wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. Still, I was only too happy to hug her back.

“Thank Celestia you’re okay,” Terra was quiet, squeezing her words out between sniffles. “How do you keep getting into these things?”

I sighed and hugged her a little tighter. “Sorry, Terra. I’ll tell you more later, but it seems like I still can’t get away from my past.”

She let out her own sigh. “Your past is a jerk.”

“Tell me about it.” I smirked. As I scanned the room again, I noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Night? Is he okay?”

Terra flashed me her matchmaking grin. “Yeah, he’s just fine, aside from being worried about you, of course. He cares about you so much that I had to kick him out a few hours ago so that he’d actually get some sleep.”

Dread weighed down my stomach. “A few hours ago? Terra, how long have I been here?”

I couldn’t really say I was surprised, which only served to worry me more. It was very disconcerting to think that collapsing for long periods of time had become too ordinary to faze me.

“About a day from what I heard.” Terra shuffled her hooves.

I wanted to sigh again, but it came out as a laugh. “I should have guessed. Dare I ask what they said about my condition?”

Terra’s face became a deep frown. “Something about bruising and a drug crash and that your body just needs some time to recover. Is this… is this the thing you’re going to tell me about later?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Terra. Rest assured I’m not an addict. I’d never willingly take the stuff.”

She nodded, though her expression remained somber. I was grateful that she was here for me, but at the same time I wished she didn’t have to deal with this. It was too much to ask of her, of anyone.

I needed something to lighten up the conversation. My eyes fell on the magazine. “So… Equestrian Bride?”

Terra immediately perked up. “Yeah! For when Stalwart asks me to marry him!”

“Marry?” I raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you only had one date?”

“Yes, but that’s all we needed! We’re clearly perfect for each other!” Terra’s aura snatched the magazine and flipped it open to reveal a filly in an ethereal blue dress. “And I even found the cutest flower girl dress for Aster.”

So much for for lighter conversation. I let out a sigh. “Terra, this is extremely overzealous, even for you. Are you really sure you’re not rushing into this?”

Terra gave me a confused look. “What? Why would I?”

“Well… I’m starting to think you love Aster more than Stalwart Stone.”

She gasped, looking at me like I’d just kicked her. “Dusky… how could you say such a thing?”

It took me a second to realize just how poorly a different interpretation of my words sounded. As I fumbled for my words, I chastised myself for being so unthinking. “Wait, Terra. I didn’t mean to imply you’re into foals. That’s not what I meant at all.”

Terra’s pain melted into sheepishness. “No, I’m sorry too. I know you wouldn’t think that about me. I’m just not thinking straight right now.”

I nodded. “I understand. Things have been stressful for everyone lately.”

“I know… I know it seems way too fast.” A smile crept up Terra’s lips. “But he’s a real gentlecolt. We really do get along so well. I do mean it when I say we’re the perfect couple.”

I smirked. “Wait, does that mean all those other couples you called perfect weren’t actually perfect?”

With a shake of her head Terra answered, “No, I meant those too. Stalwart and I are just… perfecter.”

“Terra, that’s not even a word.”

She waved her hoof. “Psh. Details.”

35 - Spirits

My stay in the clinic felt like ages, even though it was only a few days. I was worried that perhaps Terra hadn’t had all the details, but the nurses didn’t have much worse to say. My wounds were serious, but not life-threatening. Given the kinds of hits I’d taken and the fact that I’d fainted, I was surprised it wasn’t worse—not that I was complaining.

If there was one good thing about the longer stay, it was that it gave me time to refine my explanation. Originally, I just intended to say I accidentally ingested some bad stuff at a Canterlot party. However, given that I’d collapsed, I had to assume they’d press me further. After a few hours, I was confident I’d worked out enough small details to make the story plausible, but still vague enough that I could claim forgetfulness when it came to anything major.

The rest of the days came and went and they discharged me without a single question, never mind any of the long and awkward variety. As I trotted out into the soft, morning sun, I had a pretty good idea who I had to thank.

At this point, all my other concerns returned to me. I needed to figure out when the Cartel might return and get everyone apprised of the situation. I couldn’t allow what happened to Mahogany to occur again. On top of that, we still didn’t know who or what this Bellerophon really was. What I did know, what haunted me, was the way Night looked when it was there.

Before I knew it, my hooves were taking me to the library. What I expected to find there, I didn’t know. After all, if even Star and Merriweather knew so little about this Ostfriesen legend, then what chance did such a small collection of tomes stand? In fact, what chance did Equestrian knowledge, in general, stand? Still, I couldn’t just give up, and if there was anyone who could dig up the most obscure of books, it was Twilight Sparkle.

Being discharged early on a work day was quite fortunate, as the library was completely dead. The only other time I’d have been able to get Twilight to myself would have been after the library closed—meaning another half-day of doing nothing while Bellerophon scurried around Night’s mind.

Twilight was near one of the wall shelves, extracting books from an overflowing cart as she hummed to herself. I didn’t recognize the tune, which generally meant that it was another one of her mnemonics.

“Twilight?”

“Oh, Dusky!” She smiled. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah. I just needed some minor treatment.”

“Really? Rainbow had me thinking it was worse.”

“The situation was definitely non-trivial, but the recovery itself was quick and simple.”

Twilight nodded. “That’s a relief. So what do you need?”

I glanced around, even though I was ninety-nine-percent certain we were still alone. “I need some information on Ostfriesen. Specifically, someone named Bellerophon.”

“Bellerophon? Hmmm, well, we don’t have much on Ostfriesen, but give me a second.” Twilight went over to her catalog and spent the next few minutes poring over it. “Aha!”

“Found something?”

“We might have a book. Foreign Lands: A Short History.”

“Uh, well, I guess that’s better than nothing.” While I knew finding anything more specific was a long shot, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

She wandered into the back and reappeared with a thick textbook. She flipped to the back, probing its contents. “Here we go. Ostfriesen, pages two-hundred to two-hundred-three.”

At this point, I almost felt like the library itself was mocking me. I imagined a big, bold header, followed by the statement ‘It exists.’ and then a whole bunch of artists’ interpretations of how they thought it looked.

“Warlord Tapioca founded Ostfriesen after a long campaign that lasted several years… wanted to unite all the tribes to stabilize them against the encroaching threats of the badlands…” Twilight flipped to the next page. “Key victory at Raging River… Aha! Bellerophon!”

“Where? What does it say?” I darted up beside her.

“Warlord Bellerophon was her final obstacle to unification. Outnumbered and desperate, Bellerophon challenged Tapioca to single combat and was defeated, cementing her position as Queen of the newly minted Ostfriesen.”

“And?”

“That’s it. Sorry.”

I stared at the book through slitted eyes. “Gah, that hardly tells us anything. I suppose it makes sense that the texts wouldn’t be too concerned with him if he was the loser, though.”

Grudgingly, I had to admit that the whole warlord schtick explained the sudden enhancement to Night’s combat skills.

“Why do you want to know about him so badly?” Twilight asked.

Glancing behind me again, I took a deep breath. “It’s… complicated, in a way we don’t fully understand yet. That’s why I’m doing this research. But the long and short of it is that Bellerophon is somehow inside Night’s head. I hate to ask this, but could you tell me about your experience?”

A dead serious look washed over Twilight’s face. She remained silent for what felt like hours and I couldn’t help but cringe. At last, she spoke, “Of course. Just give me a minute.”

Twilight trotted back to her desk, retrieving one of those ‘Be right back!’ signs with the customizable clock. She set the hands to precisely one hour later before locking the door.

She motioned me over to a cluster of reading stools. “How and when?”

“We don’t know for sure, but it seems like it’s something to do with an old, magical hoofblade. Night reported no troubles and none of us thought anything of it. Then, a few days ago, Night was talking about voices and visions and I think there was a point where… where…” I felt like I was going to have to squeeze my throat to get the words out, “...it was Bellerophon in control.”

A deep frown formed on Twilight’s lips. “That’s definitely similar.”

My throat went dry. “How similar?”

“The voices, the visions, the takeover. But not the hoofblade.”

I wilted. Only now was I realizing just how much Twilight had suffered and how much Night must be suffering. And once again, it seemed I was helpless to do anything but watch. “Is that a significant difference?”

Twilight tapped her chin. “Maybe. Did he use the hoofblade much before he brought up the symptoms?”

“Yes. He spent quite a bit of time training with it.”

“Hmm. When it came to the Nameless, it needed a catalyst to link us. In my case, it was a spell. I thought maybe the hoofblade was Bellerophon’s, but if Night was using it for a long time, I have doubts.”

“A catalyst?” Then it hit me like a brick wall and my blood ran cold. “Oh. Oh.”

“Dusky?”

“He… he accepted Bellerophon’s power because he thought it would help me.”

“Sorry. I know this isn’t looking good, but bear with me a second. Do you know if the offer was malicious or not?”

“I don’t know. Is there any other reason to possess a pony like that?”

“I can’t say for certain, but it’s a possibility. When the Nameless came for me, the whole thing was engineered to make me trust it. Getting lost in the storm, trapping me in, the monster attack, it was all a setup to make me accept the help, then trick me into casting the spell.”

A modicum of relief was quickly overrun by apprehension. To think that a disembodied being could do things like that before it even began the possession was more than a little frightening.

Twilight continued, “So the question is, does your situation look like a setup?”

“No. There were too many people involved. If he could exert that kind of power unassisted, he wouldn’t need Night. But… what’s to stop him from being an opportunist?”

“Nothing. If you’re certain he’s evil, we could use the Elements of Harmony. But you have to be sure. This is not a trifling amount of magic, and I’m not sure what would happen if we hit an unintended target. What we do know is if the users aren’t centred, the results can be unpredictable.”

I sighed. “If only I knew more about him, then maybe I could make a call. I can’t exactly take him at his word and I can’t even be sure Night’s wouldn’t be biased by his influence. I guess I need to do more research, but I wonder if I’d even have better luck with Canterlot.”

“I can check.” Twilight returned to her desk and began rummaging around. “It’s a little dated, but I’ve got a Canterlot index somewhere around here. Maybe I can at least point you in the right direction.”

Not an hour had passed, yet I felt drained as though we’d been going over this for days. With some effort, I was able to mumble out, “Thanks, Twilight.”

“Anything I can do to help.” By now, Twilight had located her catalog, magenta light flipping through the pages as she jotted things onto a long parchment. “While you’re gone, I’ll contact Princess Celestia and see what she has to say. When we’d talked, I got the impression that Nameless was the only one of its kind, but it looks like I was wrong.”

“If only you weren’t.”

---

I felt like a zombie and I was sure anyone who saw me would say I looked like one. The pale moonlight filtering in through high library windows and the dim candles, by which Ruby and I were reading, probably didn’t help.

The Canterlot university’s library was dark, the librarian and students long gone for the night. Shadows lurked in every corner of the room, but most hadn’t moved since the lights went out. The only exceptions were when the guard in our wing of the university periodically poked in to check on us. Technically, we weren’t even supposed to be there, but Ruby was good at exercising the perks of her profession.

We’d accumulated so many stacks of books that even the solid oak table groaned as we shifted them about. I was starting to lose track of which stack was what, and time had long escaped me. All I knew was, in spite of all our effort, none of the tomes said anything about Bellerophon that wasn’t in the Ponyville text.

My focus was fading and I found myself drifting back to The Record Club. Lockbox had been much quicker than usual, which boded either very well or very poorly. I’d squirmed in my seat, waiting for him to say something.

“I heard you plugged a leak,” he said. I wasn’t sure at first, given that it was barely there, but his voice almost sounded congratulatory.

“You could say that.”

“And you’re concerned about retaliation?” His voice was a normal neutral again.

I leaned back. “Yeah. I can’t imagine he was the only one upset about the previous incident.”

“The war has begun. They’ll have their hooves full for some time. Don’t let your guard down, but without a dedicated hunter, their efforts will be far more limited.” There was that tone again.

Relief washed over me, overflowing into a smile. “Thanks.”

I heard the coin bag jingle as he shook it. Then a couple more jingles before the bag plopped onto the floor. “Check down here once we’re done. Consider it a discount for mutual exchange.”

“Lockbox...”

“Dusky?” Ruby’s voice cut through my trance.

“Huh?”

We were almost muzzle to muzzle. Concern filled her eyes. “That’s the third time tonight. I think we should call it.”

“Just a couple more,” I mumbled. “We have to find something.”

“That’s what you said the last two times.” Ruby waved a hoof. “Besides, we’re out of list.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I know, right?” She grinned widely. “Finishing a Twilight Sparkle list is no mean feat.”

She had a point. Twilight’s list was long. Very long—even for her. In fact, it had overflowed my flight satchel to the point where the trip over had involved me checking every few minutes to make sure the clasp hadn't come undone.

I half-heartedly met Ruby’s smirk. “Yeah, guess so. Wish we could’ve gotten more out of it, though.”

“Nothing says we can’t come back tomorrow and look for books she missed.”

With a sigh, I stood up and stretched my wings. “Thanks, Ruby. See you tomorrow n—ack!”

My hooves dug into the floor in vain as the tingle of magic pulled my tail. “Ruby, what are you doing?”

“Taking you back to my place.”

Terra materialized in the back of my mind. Oh my.

Shush. I shooed the apparition away.

“You were going to fly all the way back to Ponyville, weren’t you?”

“Well, that is where my apartment is.”

“Dusky, you’re exhausted and it’s five in the morning,” Ruby said.

“Okay, okay, geez, you could have just said that in the first place.”

---

As I trudged toward the Seapony, I found it hard to believe that another day had already passed. Half of me wished it wasn’t so, that I was still back in Canterlot, working through more books. The other half was glad, looking forward to just hanging out with everyone.

Thanks to Ruby and her couch, we’d been able to get back to the library by late morning. She stayed with me as long as she could, but those classes weren’t going to teach themselves. Even by myself, I quickly found myself running out of options. Every dozen or so books, I’d just gotten more and more tangential. Eventually, there was nothing to do but admit that I’d hit a dead end.

Ruby tried to cheer me up, of course, but that only held me until I was out of the city. On the upside, I made it back to my apartment without incident and everything was pretty much the way I’d left it. With most of the day gone, I knew what I had to do.

So I found myself here, looking forward to a cider or two. And perhaps, if I was patient, we could learn something about Bellerophon.

I was one of the last to arrive and as such, was treated to the sight of another one of Merriweather’s smorgasbords of alcohol. As I slipped into my seat, a cider emerged from the forest of cups.

“Thanks, Merriweather,” I said, giving her a bit of a smirk.

She flourished. “I’m a mare of my word~.”

Before I dug in, I snuck Night a short nuzzle, which he was quick to return. Across the table, a grin formed on Terra’s face, growing larger and larger until it was just shy of consuming her head.

“So, you two are just, a thing now, out in the open, eh?” She waggled her eyebrows.

I raised my own brow and giggled. “I think you already know the answer to that, don't you?”

“Well, I just wanted to say it's about time!” Terra toasted to the air, then, before anyone could meet her gesture, knocked back half the glass.

“Yeah, but it was funnier when Flurry was all embarrassed and Dusky didn't know he existed,” Mahogany said through his glass, which still had a surprising amount of liquid in it. “You ask me, it's a step backwards, comedy-wise.”

Terra let out a snort and placed an indignant hoof to her chest. “Bah, you're thinking about it all wrong, Mahogany! There are fresh new ways to embarrass Flurry now! Like kissing! How much have they kissed? And for how long?”

Merriweather laughed loudly enough to wake the dead. The nice thing about bars is that no one really cares about something like that for more than a second, or else Night might have melted. Merriweather grinned a grin that matched Terra’s. “At least once we've seen. Really long one too~.”

Even though Night’s face turned red, it didn’t slow him down. He darted in for a quick peck on my cheek. “Well, um... there's one more.”

I giggled and leaned up against him. Night being Night really put my mind at ease. At least, for that moment, we didn’t have to worry about Bellerophon.

“They're so pwecious! So cyoot! So... saccharine. Bleh.” Mahogany rolled his eyes and was in the process of making a retching face when Terra prodded him right between the ribs. He shot her an annoyed look.

Terra hardly noticed the glare. “Well, I'm happy for you two at least. Another Terrabona success story.”

“Alright, Terra. Thank you for all your hard work.” I stuck my tongue out.

“Damn right.” She turned her gaze to Mahogany, Merriweather and Star, rubbing her hooves together as she did. “Two down. Three to go.”

“I will pass, thank you.” Star gave Terra a flat look.

Terra pouted. “Awww, come on! I bet I can hook you up with so—”

“Mahogany Forest!” a stallion’s voice boomed. A large, dark brown pegasus clomped across the floor as some of the regulars scrambled to get out of the way. His carefully trimmed mustache framed his lips in such a way that it was hard to imagine him as anything but perpetually pissed off. He slammed his hoof down on the table, drawing more than a few extra eyes. “Celestia's Hell, Mahogany, I was afraid I'd find you in some rundown slum and I can see I was right.”

Mahogany shrank down behind his glass, ears wilted. It was almost imperceptible, but I could tell he was shaking. Quickly and quietly, I shifted myself so that I could easily get out of my seat.

“Hey, now. No need to shout.” Terra glared at the stallion. “We were trying to have a pleasant conversation before you interrupted.”

The stallion met her gaze. “Ma'am, I am this colt's father. I can interrupt any time I choose.”

Mahogany had never been one to talk about his family. I was always curious, but hadn’t wanted to pry. The more hot air escaped his father’s mouth, though, the more I knew why. The bar seemed to catch on as well, growing quieter as more and more heads turned.

I cleared my throat. “Well, perhaps it would be best to move into the back room to—”

“He's my son, and I'll speak to him where I damn well want to.” Mahogany’s father didn’t even bother to look at me.

“Guys... don't,” Mahogany mumbled.

“Right. At least the colt still has some sense. I'm here for a simple conversation with my son. It's my privilege as his father,” Mahogany’s father bellowed. I wondered if he was going to start beating his chest next.

Mahogany sighed, peering up over his glass. “What do you want, Dad?”

“Hmph. Some respect first. And an apology, for wasting years of your life out here, when you should have been back home, helping your family.” The larger stallion aligned his muzzle so he could look straight down it.

“Dad, I don't want anything to do with the company.”

“Well, you've had your chance. It's been four, almost five years? You've moped around in this backwater wasting your time in this bar with these little friends, but now it's time to admit your mistakes and come home.”

Mahogany looked like he wanted to protest, but did little more than nod.

“You've wasted all your time on that terrible job, but at least your boss had the sense to call me when you failed to show up for a whole month, and again when you failed to show up last week.”

A lumped formed in my stomach. This was all because of me. I cleared my throat again. “Sir, in case you haven’t noticed, Mahogany is a full-grown stallion—one capable of making his own choices.”

“He's a child. He could barely make it through school, and when I offered him real responsibility, he ran. He's been running ever since. Usually into a bottle. And I'm done tolerating his crap. It's time to go home.” He turned that same gaze upon me, but, well, frankly, he wasn’t very good at it.

“H-home?” Mahogany squirmed.

“Home. Time to leave your filthy little apartment, and your pointless job and gray nothing life with these so-called friends behind.” Mahogany’s father drew himself up. “You've got a position to fill, and a purpose greater than the pathetic little box on your flank. Now come on. Your little vacation is over.”

I wanted to point out that airing his family’s dirty laundry in public was more childish than anything Mahogany could have done, but I could already tell he was the kind of person who would take that as a license to dump the whole basket.

Terra rose, meeting Mahogany’s father’s posture, even though she was at least a good foot shorter. I slid myself back a little, getting ready to back her up if need be.

With undisguised indignation, Terra pointed a hoof right at his chest. “It's not a vacation! It's his life! Do you have any idea what he's been through?”

“Do you have any idea what he's put me through?” Mahogany’s father stepped right around Terra. “I've got train tickets for the eight-thirty train home. Come on, Mahogany.”

Without even waiting for a response, he grabbed Mahogany by the mane and dragged him out of his seat.

“No,” Mahogany said as he pushed himself to his hooves.

“I'm sorry, did you just tell me no?” His father’s face contorted into the same look I’d seen on many a violent drunk. Slowly, I rose from my seat, contemplating the quickest way to bring him down.

Mahogany stood tall, and while his voice cracked, the defiance in his eyes was unmistakable. “I did, yeah. I'm not going to come back with you.”

“You're not serious.” Mahogany’s father looked stunned for just a second, before motioning to the entirety of the bar. “You're throwing away your only chance for what? For this? For these so-called friends? You're in a gutter, Mahogany, and they're just draggi—”

“Shut up!” Mahogany thrust out a hoof, and though his father stepped back, the motion was so wild that it caught his father under the chin with an audible crack.

Mahogany either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was up in his father’s face, shouting just as loudly. “You've ruined every good thing in my life! All you ever cared about was the company, the company, the company! You've never cared about anything I wanted, or that I could be!”

His father spat a small glob of blood onto the floor. “I am your father! You can't treat me like that! I'm not afraid to teach you a harsher lesson, if you refuse to listen.”

“Better ponies than you have taken shots, Birch. You're a monster, and you're no father of mine. You, sir, are no White Riot.”

I frowned. This was not something he should be advertising, especially to the public. I would have cut in, but it was crucial that I not kill his momentum. At least the whole statement seemed to go over Birch’s head. While his expression hardly changed, I’m sure he wouldn’t have passed up another opportunity to declare how much of a screw-up Mahogany was. I felt a wing brush across my back and my eyes flitted over to Night. He gave me an apologetic look, to which I nodded.

Mahogany and his father continued to stare each other down, but neither raised a hoof.

Birch was apparently all bluster, as he stepped back and sneered. “You think this is over? You think you've won? Fine, let me give you what you've always wanted. As is my right as patriarch of the Forest family, I cast you out! As of today, you forfeit your shares of the company, your inheritance, and your family name! Choke on your miserable little life.”

He whirled and crashed through the door, leaving the entire bar staring after him. Ten seconds later, the whole incident was forgotten by all but our table.

“Never wanted to be one of you anyways.” Mahogany slumped.

Terra was the first to speak, “Whoa... damn, Mahogany…”

Mahogany stumbled back to his seat and flopped down, staring at his Buzzard. “That was the hardest thing I've ever done.”

“He's wrong, Mahogany…” Night added.

“He's wrong about a lot of things, but so am I, usually.”

“Well, sometimes.” Night shook his head. “But you're not worthless... and we are your friends. We'll support you.”

I took the opportunity to slip over and give Mahogany a hug. “Just like you've supported us.”

36 - Racing Problems

While I had work in the morning, I spent much of it mentally re-reading my letter from Ivory while my body went through the motions. In all the excitement surrounding the ghost in Night’s head and Mahogany’s father’s raging, I’d almost forgotten. Cue rearranging my flight satchels for weather work and finding the envelope tucked in between my rations.

I do not think it is the same as my spells, but given what you describe, I can see why you made the connection. There is a slight possibility that she may be involuntarily using some form of spell. However, since she doesn’t have a cutie mark, I’m more inclined toward another theory. This may be her natural earth pony magic working overtime. While cases are quite uncommon, for some foals, the surges they experienced in their earliest stages may intermittently persist while they are still developing. Nopony is entirely sure why, but stress has been noted as a factor. Anyway, this is all speculation. I’d need to see the foal in action to draw any conclusions.

-I

P.S. Are we still on for the summer?

The comparison to surges, in particular, left me unnerved. Was this something Aster had control over? Was a few small plants the limit of her power? Or would we one day wake up to find half of Ponyville consumed by revived plants? I couldn’t know for sure without some kind of analysis, but carting Aster off to Pasture was out of the question. If Stalwart Stone didn’t kill me, Terra almost certainly would. There was always Twilight. Unless Stalwart Stone also had an irrational fear of her, she’d be an easier sell than Pasture.

As the morning—and my self-debate—wore on, the more I realized that figuring anything else out hinged on my voicing my concerns. Since I didn’t really know Stalwart Stone that well, I decided that I should tell Terra first. Then she could help me break the news.

That just meant that I had to decide how I was going to approach her. I considered downplaying things a bit, just because this was going to be yet another really weird thing on her mind. The last thing I needed to do was freak her out. I still hadn’t quite figured out the wording when I clocked out, and as I left the weather office, I was so distracted that I just about walked right past my dad.

The royal blue of his coat caught the corner of my eye and I froze mid-step. He smiled his usual soft smile as his spectacled eyes met mine. My mind immediately shifted gear.

Whenever my dad came by himself, it meant no test—a rather rare occurrence. Undoubtedly, they’d heard about my latest escapades. I couldn’t help but wonder if the collateral had been wider than I’d thought.

“Dad? Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Your mom and I just wanted to drop in for a visit.”

“Right,” I replied, as we started walking. “So, I’m guessing Mom’s waiting at my place?”

“No. Our house.” Without missing a beat, he turned down one of the posher side streets. Ponyville didn’t really do the whole mansion thing, but the bungalows here were at least four times as large as my apartment and probably about as expensive—possibly even more, given the numerous stylized windows.

“You… have a house here?” My heart sank. While the Everfree’s proximity alone could justify owning a safe house, the timing was too convenient. To think that I’d worried them that much—it was almost crushing.

“We do now. We only wish we could have done more sooner.”

I shook my head. “No, this whole thing, it’s… Sorry, Dad.”

“Whatever for?”

“For being a foolish filly.” I let out a sigh. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been so naive.”

My dad stopped and looked me right in the eye. “You’ve already apologized enough. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“But—”

Leaning in, he wrapped his head around my neck, pulling me close. “Dusky. You may have approached it the wrong way, but you have a good heart and that’s not something anyone should hold against you.”

I let my chin rest in his mane for a moment before stepping back. “Even so, all this trouble is my fault.”

“You’ll get through it. You’re a strong mare with good friends. And besides…” Dad glanced left, then right. “Don’t tell anyone else, but if everyone had to apologize whenever trouble came knocking, your mom wouldn’t be able to stop.”

Then he winked.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Dad, I don’t know how reassuring that really is.”

“What about this?” My dad turned and stepped onto the closest, carefully trimmed lawn.

This bungalow was a bit more unassuming, with off-white paneling and less flamboyant, though still large, windows. The structure was also barely more than half as large as the others. Whatever extra space this left seemed to be taken up by a line of finely sculpted bushes and a pair of soft-pink dogwood trees.

He led me along the side of the house, to the back yard. The whole thing was fenced off by tall planks that were about the same colour as the bungalow. Aside from the grass, there were no other plants present. Instead, the majority of the space was taken up by a sturdy wooden shed, its large door facing out onto a wide patch of gravel.

“It’s… certainly nice,” I said. “So... another vacation home?”

My dad chuckled. “You bet.”

The back door led directly into a roomy kitchen that could have rivaled Sugarcube Corner’s. A large, six-chair dining table sat in the middle of the room, a few bags and various knickknacks strewn across its surface. As usual, these items had been conscripted to make the place look lived-in.

There were two other exits: a door to our right that became a set of stairs that almost certainly led to the basement and a doorway straight ahead that broke off to the left and right. As we closed the back door, my mom appeared in the hallway.

Without a word, she advanced, her eyes completely steady as lavender strands bounced around them. But this wasn’t Test Mode Mom. Her movements were more hurried than aggressive. Before I could even ask, her muzzle was pressed against my forelock.

“Sorry, Mom.”

“We’ll have to step up your training.”

I looked down. “I don’t think it would have helped.”

My mom stepped back, giving me a look as though I’d just claimed the sky was green.

With a sigh, I gave my parents a quick rundown of the situation. I told them how I’d been outnumbered, how Mahogany had been a hostage, how I’d been captured, but also bailed out by my friends. They listened quietly, my mom bearing an ever-deepening frown, while at about the halfway point, my dad wrapped a wing around my withers.

When I finished, my mom was the first to speak, “They’re just lucky Nobes beat me there. Heads would have rolled.”

She stared at the back door with such intensity that I was afraid it might explode.

Knowing that there was no way I could fully understand the worry she must have gone through, I pressed my muzzle against her mane. “Sorry, Mom. But I’m safe now. Please don’t do anything drastic.”

Mom snorted. “Of course not. It’s not our job to fight criminal organizations. However, it is Nobes’s job. I plan on having a nice, long chat with him tonight.”

“I know, but, if it weren’t for him, I might not have gotten away.”

My mom shook her head. “If he’d been doing his damned job, you wouldn’t have had to get away in the first place.”

“Your mother’s right,” my dad chimed in. “Regardless of the outcome, this situation has been more than a little alarming. It is the duty of the Guard to protect the innocent and this has been a major lapse that begs discussion.”

“Yeah, I understand that. Just… please don’t get carried away.”

---

I almost wanted to go with my parents to Canterlot, to make sure they got my input. However, I decided I needed to trust my parents—not just because my dad was much better with words than I, but because Mahogany needed my support.

Mahogany had hardly said a word the rest of the night, even though we’d stayed until closing. It made me wish I’d asked about his family sooner, though there’d been no time to rectify it then. I needed to give him space, which was more than a little strange to do in a bar, but it’s not like the rest of my month had been any more normal.

After I parted ways with my parents, I headed toward the EPS store, planning to catch him as he got off work. I’d hoped to talk to Terra beforehoof, but whatever window I'd had for that had disappeared with the afternoon’s diversion. In any event, Mahogany’s trauma was more immediate. I could pull Terra aside tonight or even tomorrow.

The door jingled as I nosed it open and Mahogany, who was practically face down on a clipboard, tiredly pulled himself up so he was at least a few inches above the counter. His head looked like it could plummet at a moment’s notice. He managed something of a smile when he saw me.

“Oh, hey, Dusky,” he mumbled into his clipboard. “No packages today.”

“That’s okay. That’s not what I’m here for. How’ve you been holding up?”

“Fine. Just fine. Nothing wrong with ol’ Mahogany.” His eyes were everywhere—except on me.

I had to resist rolling my eyes. “You could at least try to lie a little more convincingly. You look like death. Did something else happen?”

He let out a long sigh. “Gimme a second.”

Mahogany stepped around the counter, a key clutched between his teeth. I took a step back, giving him space to lock the door. Once it was secure, he stood there for several moments before finally turning around.

“Somepony broke into my apartment.” His words hit me like a full-grown Ursa.

Is the Cartel already on the move again? My mind flitted back to the alleyway, with Mahogany lying on the ground.

“What?! Were you attacked? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Mahogany waved a hoof. “I wasn’t home.”

“That hardly makes it better.” My mind was moving at a million miles a minute. This plan had to be solid. I couldn’t let Mahogany get hurt again. “We have to get you out before they come back. I know a place you can stay until we can get in contact with Noble Light.”

“What? They? Dusky, it’s just my dad. Ex-dad. Whatever.”

I blinked. “What? How do you know?”

“He just ran off with some stuff the family sent over for Hearth’s Warming and my birthday. Somepony smart would have raided my booze or searched my room for bits.” Mahogany laughed, though it was more bitter than anything.

“That’s still really awful. Why would he even do that? Is it part of the whole... disowning thing?” At the moment, I really wished I could have let him borrow my family.

“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t stop him from leaving a business card,” Mahogany grumbled.

“What?! That’s just… I don’t even have any words for that.” I didn’t know if I should be more baffled or angry. He wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t over.

“Haha, yeah…” Mahogany’s laugh was so defeated that I wanted to hug him. “That’s my dad.”

“You have to call the Guard.”

“Why? I don’t wanna deal with him anymore. Plus, he’ll just win, anyway.”

I frowned. “I know what you’re getting at, but getting help from the Guard isn’t a contest. Usually.”

“Usually.” He gave me a flat look.

“My case is different. His company’s a legit business, right?”

“Maybe?” Mahogany shrugged. “I’m not really up on company secrets.”

“Well, even if he is doing shady things, his company is still in a legit trade. What the Cartel does, it’s inherently against the law. The Guard will always be chasing them. For the company, they don’t draw that kind of attention just for existing. Bribery gone awry could bring the whole thing crashing down. So the odds of any… pre-existing relationship are slim.”

Mahogany looked away. “I don’t know.”

Slipping up beside him, I gave him a quick hug. “At least give it some thought.”

“Fine. Just don’t tell anyone else yet.”

---

As it turned out, Terra had a date with Stalwart Stone that night, which was perhaps just as well. When I pulled Star and Merriweather aside to discuss our research progress with regards to Bellerophon, it became a full-blown meeting.

What texts they had with them seemed to be of little more use than the ones I’d found in Canterlot. Even so, rather than sit idle, we started double-checking the books, all the while grasping for good alternatives.

By the time Night arrived, we’d gained little more than frustration. Star had resorted to triple-checking, while Merriweather was spouting off anything that came to mind.

Night snuck across the floor like a foal arriving late to class. I looked up as he settled down beside me and gave him a quick nuzzle. “Hi, Night. You doing okay?”

“I've... been better.” He smiled half-heartedly before turning to Star and Merriweather. “So... what have we learned?”

Star stared past us and sighed. “Not much, I am afraid. Bits and pieces of lore, but nothing we did not already know. After Tapioca united Ostfriesen, Bellerophon simply disappeared from the history books.”

“Twilight didn't know anything either.” My eyes flitted back to the useless book in front of me. “And I couldn't find anything useful in the Canterlot Library.”

Night wilted, tapping his hooves against each other as he looked between us. “Then what do we do? I... I mean, there's something we can do, right?”

Star and Merri exchanged glances before Merri finally spoke, “Well, we've got one idea, but it's not exactly the best plan.”

“We have access to the source material right there.” Star pointed at Night. “If we can talk to him.”

“I don't like it,” I said. While it was probably our most coherent alternative, the risk involved was potentially severe. “How can we be sure this is safe?”

Merriweather’s expression turned somber. “We... really can't. I mean, he's in there, listening, right? He reacted last time when I tried to talk at him.”

“I... I don't know.” Night squirmed.

“Night…” I nuzzled into his mane, wishing I could give him more reassurance. I wanted to tell him that if this made him uncomfortable, he didn’t have to do it. But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that doing nothing could be just as bad.

Star leaned forward. “Perhaps you can talk with him again, Night? You have been able to communicate, yes?”

“I can try, if... if he feels like it.” Night looked away. “He's not exactly been cooperative with me.”

“Night Light.” I pressed a hoof against his side, until he turned to me again. Slipping my muzzle under his, I nudged at his chin. Then I looked him in the eye, doing my best to hide my own anxiety.

Night stared off into space for a good minute before he finally spoke, “He says he'll answer.”

“Excellent.” Star swept aside her book, replacing it with a quill and some parchment. “Now, to begin, ask him the nature of this possession. Was it a spell he was aware of?”

At that moment, Night’s eyes hardened and his posture became more rigid. It was him. I swallowed hard, pushing back on my anxiety before it could overflow.

“It was. A spell cast by a maniac, and accepted in righteous anger.” Bellerophon’s voice was cold, almost contemptuous, leaving Night a complete alien.

“Night?” I asked, hoping that he would return right that instant, that he was only lending Bellerophon his voice.

“We were not expecting to speak so directly, Lord Bellerophon.” Uncertainty washed over Star’s face, her voice wavering for just an instant.

“Y-you remember Tapioca, right? Queen of Ostfriesen? Sword of the Plains?” Merriweather blurted out.

“I remember her. I remember her prowess, her promises, her treason,” Bellerophon practically growled.

“Treason!? But, she saved Ostfriesen! She was a hero!” Merriweather almost looked more confused than angry.

Bellerophon slammed his hoof against the table. “She was a liar, and a whore!”

Merriweather opened her mouth again, but closed it when Star placed a hoof against her withers. With a cough, Star took over. “We're getting off-track. We're trying to determine how, and why, you are here, Lord Bellerophon. Please explain the spell that brought you here.”

“Very well.” He flashed Merriweather a dirty look. “After I was tossed aside by her Highness, I departed Ostfriesen. I wasn't about to betray my oaths, even if she'd betrayed me. I slew the enemies of the country. I protected lives.”

“You went rogue?” Surprise filled Star’s face once more.

This time, he directed his scowl at Star. “"I swore an oath as a Knight. As the first Knight! I simply lived those oaths with no master. And then I met Broken Tooth. He was insane, I knew it from the moment I met him, but he was a brilliant wizard, and he had discovered something incredible. Immortality.”

“Not possible, no matter how strong the magic.” Star narrowed her eyes.

“And yet I stand here, talking.” Bellerophon’s expression turned smug. “Dragon's blood is very difficult to obtain, but it is such a powerful ingredient.”

Merriweather and Star looked at each other. I’m certain we must have all been thinking the same thing. If this was true, then Tapioca’s legend must be true. Following that, would that mean that every ancient Ostfriesen knight was that strong? And how much of that transferred over to Night?

Which brought me to my real question. “You're talking, but it isn't you I see standing here. Clearly, it's not true immortality. There's a cost, isn't there?”

Some of his intensity faded. “That is true, yes. It wasn't true immortality, as you say. I still... died. But then I woke up to darkness. The spell couldn't anchor me to a body, instead, it anchored me to my armor. The only piece of my battle armor to remain is this bracer.”

He absently traced a hoof over the bracer.

“Well, there we go!” Merriweather’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hooves. “We destroy the bracer, and boom! No more possessed Flurry! Easy!”

My chest seized up.

Bellerophon leapt from his seat, blade extended and pointed across the table. “As I thought! You would let me die?! Just as Tapioca spit upon my honour, so do her descendants. You are as des—”

It was Twilight all over again, but instead of magic, it was a blade. My senses turned entirely inward. All I could see was the lightning. All I could smell was my own burning flesh. I must have reacted instinctually, as by the time I’d pushed away the fear, I was standing, my own forehoof shoving the blade aside.

I don’t know where I found the strength, but somehow I squeezed out something resembling coherent thought, “Stop! They're not Tapioca. Her sins are not theirs!”

Bellerophon glanced at me, bewilderment on his face. I stared back as sternly as I could. Wavering was not an option.

Finally, he relented and as the blade vanished, he grumbled, “It's not worth the effort.”

“Jeez, thanks Belly. You're a real winner too.” Merriweather very slowly relaxed her own fighting stance.

As I looked everyone over, I saw that Star too had been ready for action. Her stance was much more subtle, but it wasn’t difficult see with trained eyes. At once, I felt exhausted and anxious, afraid and angry.

“This is ridiculous. No one wants to kill you, but what you’re doing, it’s…” To think that Bellerophon had almost had us fighting Night, it was almost too much. I wanted to scream at him, to call him a brute and a villain. But the fact of the matter was that he still held Night’s life in his hooves. For Night’s sake, I had to calm myself. “I... I need some air.”

With that, I slipped out of the room. The closest exit was the back door, which I might have shoved open just a bit too hard. Luckily, no one was on the other side.

A cool breeze blew through my coat, skimming off just a bit of my anxiety. I took a few moments to breathe, clearing my head just enough for me to look for a cloud. I needed a few moments alone, but didn’t want to go too far.

Thankfully, there were more than a few candidates lazily hanging out over the bar. I picked one that was about a dozen feet up from the roof and settled into its soft, fluffy embrace.

Beyond this layer of cloud, the sky was relatively clear and I found my gaze drifting up to the moon. The pale light was calming, almost mesmerizing. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed its effect before. Perhaps I was just so upset that I needed to let myself drift for a bit.

The guilt began to sink in. Even though I’d needed to regain my composure, I’d still left everyone alone. Given how quickly Bellerophon had backed down, I doubted things had escalated again. Still, I’d need to get my thoughts together quickly.

Every time I thought of Night and how Bellerophon could so easily take control, I felt sick. The Night who was not Night was burned into my mind and my knee-jerk reaction was to go get Twilight. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the best idea. What Bellerophon was doing, it wasn’t right. However, if I told her I thought he was evil, I’d be lying. I got the impression that he was more of a grumpy old stallion. A selfish, grumpy old stallion who made poor life choices, but that didn’t make him a villain.

This is not a trifling amount of magic, and I’m not sure what would happen if we hit an unintended target. Twilight’s words echoed through my mind. I somehow doubted the result would cause Night physical harm, but there are many things that could be just as bad. We couldn’t risk a repeat of ‘one-thousand years on the moon’.

I sighed. Back to square one.

“D-Dusky?” Night’s voice—the real Night’s—came from behind me.

I turned to him and only then, as moisture rolled down my already-damp cheeks, did I realize how much I’d been crying.

Night hovered down, landing beside me and wrapping me in a tight hug. “Dusky, I'm... I'm so sorry.”

Leaning up against him, I let out a short sigh. “I... I just can't stand to see you like that.”

He shrunk a bit. “I was afraid you'd hate me.”

“No, Night Light.” I pressed my muzzle against his cheek. “I could never hate you. But, him? Pulling a blade and threatening our friends—that's not you, Night! It's like you're gone, and when it happened, I kept wondering: are you going to come back?”

“How could I not come back? I have so much to come back for now. And... I'll fight for it.” His smile was nothing short of anxious.

“I wish you didn't have to fight for it.” I snuck a short nuzzle. “Just real Night, one-hundred percent of the time.”

“Wh-what? Let you…” Night stammered out, to which I raised an eyebrow. He quickly caught himself and continued, “He uh, well... wants to talk to you. He's... asking permission.”

“I... “ Uncertainty flooded over me. Surely, this was too soon. I watched him carefully and he met my gaze, a sort of soft resolve in them. “Promise me you'll come back.”

“For this? Nothing could stop me. I promise.”

Night’s posture shifted and Bellerophon stared off into the distance. “I must apologize, to you, to your friends. This isn't what I wanted.”

The edge was gone from his voice. This time, he just sounded tired. Still, I was on guard, unsure of his sincerity.

“What did you want? You made choices that you knew weren't going to end well.”

“An angry heart drove me to grim measures.” Bellerophon breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he did.

“And now you would inflict that on him?”

He exhaled slowly. “When he wore the bracer, I could see through him. The more I spoke to him, the more I could feel the world. And soon, I could be in the world around him even when he didn't wear it. I wanted to breathe and to fly again. I wanted to live, and he wanted to defend his friends. I thought... I thought we could both get what we wanted. But, not like this.”

My eyes flitted to the ground as I tried to hold my anxiety back. “Not through Night.”

“I don't know how to end this. If you destroy the bracer, it is possible that it will…” He paused, staring off into the distance again. “It may destroy me. My life has been so long already, alone in the darkness. Maybe I deserve that, yet even now I don't want to die. Perhaps that fear would keep me here. It is impossible to know.”

At the moment, he almost seemed like a normal person, just out of time and out of place. Such was the curse of immortality. I watched him closely. “So you really don't know what can be done to change this? He just has to live with you in there?”

Bellerophon closed his eyes. “I... cannot say. But, I can promise this, I vow that I will no longer force this upon him.”

“I'll hold you to your word.” I continued to watch him for a bit. Either he was a very good actor, or he was sincere enough. There was one thing that nagged at me, that I had to ask, “How long is 'so long'?”

He spoke slowly, as though recalling the memories as he went. Eventually, his eyes turned skyward. “I don't know. I couldn't keep track. The darkness swallowed everything, even the moon.”

“The moon?” I blinked.

“When I first awoke in that blighted realm, the moon shone down on me. It was a comforting presence for one who had damned himself. Then, even the moon went dark. The light inside it replaced by a bitterness.”

The moon went dark? I had an inkling, but it needed confirmation. “And... now? Is the moon still dark?”

Bellerophon shook his head. “Not long ago, the light returned. That was when I began to see the world again.”

Could it be? That, wherever he was, he could still somehow see our moon? I turned to Bellerophon. “Nightmare Moon.”

“Nightmare Moon?” He raised an eyebrow. It was only then that I realized just how out of time he was.

“She was created over a thousand years ago, or so the legends say. A terrible villain, who was trapped in the moon, until recently, when she was freed, and defeated once again… and redeemed. While she was trapped, the moon was marked by the Mare in the Moon.”

Bellerophon wilted. “One thousand...?”

A thousand years lost in darkness. I’d only spent three days alone in my dreams and the whole thing had left me exhausted. The sheer magnitude of the scale closed around my mind like a vise. To be perfectly honest, that Bellerophon was anything short of a raving lunatic was astonishing. Even after everything he’d done, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

Slowly, cautiously, I leaned over and gave him a hug.

Bellerophon tensed, and when I pulled away, he gave me an incredulous look. “Wh-what are you... It is still me, still Bellerophon.”

I nodded, though I kept my eyes on him. “I don't agree with what you've done to Night, but no one deserves what you've had to endure.”

His expression hardly changed. “I... thank you. Thank you. I'm sorry. I... I will return control to him now. I shall be content with the moon, and the light it gives once again.”

“Understood.”

This still wasn’t right. Night still deserved his body back, to have his mind free from influence. But for now, this small victory, it was something.

As Bellerophon faded away, he left me with these words, “I cannot keep you two from one another. Betrayal is the greatest sin, and there is no greater pain than the betrayal of a lover. I will not cause him to betray you this way.”

Something had obviously caused him and Tapioca to have a falling out, but what it was, I didn’t know. Perhaps it was best that I didn’t know. If there was one thing I knew for certain, this was yet another reminder that legends don’t necessarily paint the full picture.

Night looked up at me, this time with a smile free from fear. “S-see? I promised I'd be back.”

Words wouldn’t have been enough, so I wrapped him in the tightest hug I’d ever given him. He tumbled back, falling flat against the cloud.

As he looked up at me, he smiled widely. “A-and... glad to be back.”

37 - Growing Concerns

The longer I considered my upcoming conversation with Terra, the more I became convinced the Seapony’s back room was not the best way to start. At this point, I’d basically be giving her a cue to freak out. As fortune had it, we were only a day out from our usual spa day, so I figured I could just stop by early.

However, when her door swung open, concern immediately filled her face. “Oh, hi, Dusky. Is something wrong?”

I supposed I should have expected that, given that I’d somehow become the herald of trouble.

“No, well, yes, but not of the... usual variety.” I sighed. There had to be some kind of award for having a life where Aster’s ability was one of the least dangerous things. “I guess you could say it’s less immediate.”

“R-right.” Terra didn’t look too convinced. “Come in.”

As soon as I stepped in, I was struck by just how much less cluttered the place felt. Closer examination told me that Terra’s organized mess wasn’t gone so much that it had become a bit more presentable. At least, things were less scattered and made better use of vertical space. There were still no labels to speak of, but from what few things were peeking out, I could discern a vague categorization. What’s more, the living room was completely free of empty bottles and the curtains were open.

“New stock coming in?”

Terra shook her head. “I just thought I should clean up a bit.”

“Make it more foal friendly?” I raised an eyebrow.

She smiled a little. “Something like that.”

I slipped onto the loveseat and Terra sat on the sofa directly across from me. I’d been rehearsing what to say all day. Thankfully, rereading Ivory’s letter reminded me how I could make this whole thing sound a bit more normal.

“What would you say if I said I thought Aster was still having surges?”

“That’s ridiculous.” Terra raised an eyebrow. “She’s way too old for that.”

“Not necessarily. There are some outliers, who continue to have surges for several years after the usual cut-off point.”

“Then why haven’t I seen them?”

This was the part that gave me pause. I hated to bank so much on speculation, but there would be no proof unless I could convince them to look for it. “Well, I can’t be sure, but I have a theory that they only come up when she tries to use her earth pony powers.”

Worry clouded Terra’s face as she stared into the past. “But... shouldn’t this have come up every time we went gardening?”

I shook my head. “Not if she’s hiding it.”

“Why would she do that?” Terra’s confusion became shock.

“Maybe because she’s scared or weirded out by it?”

Terra frowned. “But she knows she can trust me.”

“Maybe, but how far?” I paused, trying to find words that were as gentle as possible. “I know you two have become quite close, but how long have you really known each other?”

She sighed. “I guess. So, what brought all this up?”

“Do you remember that very first pallet of plants?”

“Yeah.” A smile crept up her lips. “It was harder to get than I’d thought. But it was worth it.”

“Did you know that at least one of them was withered?”

“No? Yes?” She stared off into the distance and shook her head. “There were so many different plants, I think I lost track.”

This was the moment of truth, where I’d either convince Terra to help Aster—or that I belonged in a loony bin. I braced myself. “Well, there was, and when I came over, I saw her... reanimate it.”

She blinked as her head slowly tilted. “As in, raising it from the dead?”

“Something like that, yeah. I almost didn’t believe it myself, but when she faced me, she had this guilty look, as though she knew something wasn’t right.”

“Oh, well… um, that’s not so bad.” Terra stared nervously at her hooves. “Maybe a little weird, but foals have had more destructive surges, right?”

I couldn’t help but do a bit of my own fidgeting. “Yeah, uh, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you about it. We have no benchmark for that incident, so we can’t say if that was her upper limit or if it could get stronger.”

Her eyes drifted upward. “I don’t follow. How could giving life be destructive?”

“Well, the magic has to come from somewhere. Aside from the fatigue issue, we have no idea what kind of side effects she could experience.” I gave her an apologetic look. Even though I knew it was for the best, I felt like some kind of fear monger—and it left a bad taste in my mouth. “The rest depends on the magnitude of her power, but imagine if she were to accidentally revive some old roots. Those things are sturdy and could easily damage any of Ponyville’s underground infrastructure. Or imagine if it reproduced an entire tree in the middle of someone’s house.”

A shudder swept over Terra. “Oh. Y-yeah, that sounds bad.”

I stood up and walked over to Terra, placing a wing on her shoulder. “Of course, none of that is for certain. It could very well be something minor, but we won’t know without consulting a specialist. And, well, this obviously isn’t my call. You know Stalwart Stone better than me, so I was hoping you might have some good ideas of how to break all this to him.”

“Right.” Terra pondered for a moment. “I think… I think we can just tell him exactly what you told me. He loves Aster more than anything else in the world. If it’s for her health, I don’t think he’ll take much convincing.”

“Sorry to drop this on you right before our spa day.”

She smiled a little. “No better time to relieve some tension, right?”

---

The spa went as though nothing had happened. While we weren’t going to talk about Aster’s issue in public, I was still worried about the lingering effects our initial conversation might have had. I’d been fully prepared to upgrade Terra’s usual to the deluxe, but the need never arose. She was remarkably calm, especially for how little whiskey she’d had in the last few hours. I supposed between my misadventures and mothering Aster, she had to build up a tolerance at some point.

I slept a little better that night, which was good, because the next morning involved disassembling one of those large, overnight storms. Thunder clouds always require careful attention if one wants to avoid any combination of embarrassment or injury.

Thankfully, I was able to keep my focus, warding off thoughts of mental ghosts, zombie plants and sociopathic ex-fathers. Just my team, some clouds and a tough task ahead. Some might call me crazy, but as I clocked out and left the town hall, my mind felt about as refreshed as my body had after the spa.

The day was still cool, and, while the lingering dampness was starting to smell a bit stale, it compelled me to take a scenic route home. So I stepped into the park, intent on following the perimeter until it linked back onto the main road.

“You!” Aster’s voice pierced the morning serenity. I turned to see her barreling toward me, face contorted with rage. “You told them!”

What? Did Terra already—? I tossed the thought aside as I realized Aster wasn’t going to stop. Granted, I probably didn’t need to. With such an obvious trajectory, my sidestep almost felt casual.

Not to be deterred, Aster whipped around, carrying her full momentum toward me again. She lacked anything resembling technique, so avoiding her wasn’t going to be a problem. The real trick was going to be stopping her without hurting her.

I slid away as she charged past, sticking my hind leg out just enough to clip hers. She stumbled, letting out a yelp as she skidded to a half-crouched halt. That was my cue and I pounced, placing my barrel top her shoulders and forcing her to the ground.

“Nnnnngh! Get off me!” she squealed.

“Not until you settle down.”

She squirmed once, then twice, before grumbling, “Fiiiine.”

“Promise?”

“Yes! Just let me go!”

As I stood up, Aster darted away. After a few feet, she turned to give me a scowl.

I met her gaze with a stare of my own. “Now, what was all that about?”

“You weren’t supposed to tell them about my thing.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Now, why wouldn’t you want your father to know about something like your special ability?”

Aster tried to scowl harder, but it actually made her look kind of ridiculous. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe you didn’t want him to know how much it wears you down?”

“No! Who cares about that? I just needed more time to make it perfect.”

I tilted my head. “So you don’t care about your health at all?”

“My family doesn’t let a little tiredness stop them.” She puffed out her chest. I couldn’t help but be impressed by her initiative. At the same time, I think that same drive made her more than a bit short-sighted.

“Aster, don’t lie. I saw you. That’s not ‘a little tiredness’, that’s exhausted.”

She simply stared back at me.

I sighed. “Besides, your father is an adult, who has a better grasp on his limitations than a foal like y—”

“I am an adult!” Aster stomped a hoof.

“You sure aren’t acting like one.” I gave her a stern look, though I’m sure it hardly compared to Terra’s.

Sure enough, Aster only hesitated a few seconds before her indignation returned. “You… you don’t know anything! You should have asked me first!”

“Maybe.” It was time for a change of tactics. “Let’s say I did. Can you honestly say you’d have listened?”

Her cheeks inflated a bit as she narrowed her eyes. Through gritted teeth, she forced the words out. “Yes. I totally would have.”

“Really? After today, how can you even say that with a straight face?”

“You don’t understand!” There was that angry face again.

“Well, you keep saying that, but you never say why. Care to enlighten me?”

Aster looked at me with deep suspicion. I imagined she saw me as some kind of villain, trying to trick her into revealing her darkest secrets.

When at last she spoke, there was a notable pain in her eyes, even as she tried to hide it. “D-Dad, he… he can barely afford his doctor and he already works too hard. He can’t afford this. So… so it’s on me.”

She really had grown up too fast, something I wasn’t entirely a stranger to. Considering what Ivory had said, I couldn’t help but wonder if Aster was stuck in some kind of stress feedback loop.

A soft smile formed on my lips as I spoke, “I think it’s sweet that you want to help your dad like that. It’s only natural to feel that way. But remember that it works in reverse too. When you overstrain yourself, it hurts those around you.”

“I know,” she muttered. “Doesn’t fix anything.”

“That may be true, but Terra and I happen to know a few people. We might be able to work something out. You’re just going to have to trust us.”

Aster regarded me with a mix of relief and suspicion.

I smiled a little wider. “Think on it for a bit, okay?”

Before she could answer, Terra’s voice filled the park. “Aster!”

Terra came galloping over. Despite his back brace, Stalwart Stone wasn’t too far behind, moving at a more measured canter. I could tell he really wanted to move faster, though.

“Aster, how many times have I told you you’re too young to be out on your own?” Terra’s face overflowed with motherly disappointment.

“Too often,” Aster grumbled. She shrank down when Terra’s face turned sterner. “S-sorry.”

“Miss Terrabona is right,” Stalwart Stone added. “You can’t go wandering off like that without telling me. You had me worried sick.”

Aster stole a guilty glance at me. “Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know.” He nuzzled into her forelock. “You need to think things through a little more. Now come along. We need to get going.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Stalwart Stone glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry for any trouble, Miss Down. If there’s anything I can do to thank you…”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. If things work out, that’ll be good enough for me.”

“Go ahead without me, Stalwart,” Terra said. “I need to talk to Dusky real quick.”

He nodded. “Okay. See you at the house.”

Terra waited until the two of them were out of earshot before turning back to me. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you. Stalwart and I just got talking and it sort of slipped out.”

“The important thing is that Stalwart Stone was informed. Any good opportunity for that is fine by me. I just didn’t expect Aster to take it so hard.”

“Eheh, well, about that.” Terra scuffed a hoof. “I thought it was a good time. Aster was asleep and I had some time alone with Stalwart. But then I guess Aster wasn’t really asleep and then… then when we went to talk to her in the morning, she was gone!”

I nodded. “I noticed emotions seemed to be running a little high there. She wasn’t exactly happy to see me.”

Terra sighed, rubbing her temples with her hooves. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. She would have figured it out eventually, since she did see me see her.” I smirked a little. “And besides, after the rest of the year, I’ll gladly deal with one angry filly.”

38 - Evidence

The evening was well underway when we arrived at Twilight’s. I would have preferred to start in the morning to allow for some wiggle room with the evaluation. However, while we could fudge Aster’s schedule, it would be counterproductive to have Stalwart Stone miss work. And while we could have gone without him, it didn’t feel right. I was already dreading the logistics that would be involved if Ivory had to come into the picture.

I glanced back at the others. Stalwart Stone was the calmest, merely shifting from hoof to hoof. Comparatively, Terra and Aster were, respectively, a green and purple ball of nerves—though for different reasons. Terra looked like she could faint at any given moment, but Aster was clearly stoked, yet uncertain.

“C’mon, everyone, it’s Twilight Sparkle, not an Ursa. She’s not going to bite your head off.”

“I know, I know,” Terra and Aster said simultaneously. Their eyes slowly turned sideways.

I stifled a giggle.

“It’s just…” Terra stared at the library door as if there was a rabid timberwolf on the other side. “I’m sure she must have Elementsy things she has to do. Isn’t there somepony else?”

“Not in Ponyville. Or even for some distance, as far as I know. Unless...” I smirked, “you want to go to Canterlot and hunt for one of the Princesses.”

“Oooo, really?” Aster looked breathless for a moment.

Terra went pale. “N-no, that’s… Twilight Sparkle will do.”

“Aw…”

Given Aster’s rather casual treatment of authority, I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised. In the very least, I could almost certainly leverage it for her cooperation. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go inside before we spend the entire night on the porch.”

As soon as I opened the door, Aster wasted no time rushing in. She zeroed in on Twilight, who was poring over something at the check-out desk.

“Twilight Sparkle!” Aster blurted out as she stopped just shy of ramming the desk.

Twilight looked up. “Um, hello.”

“You’re the awesomest hero, always saving Equestria and stuff!”

With a laugh, Twilight flipped her book closed. “I’m flattered, but you know I can only do all that with help from my friends, right?”

“But they’re only able to do it because you take charge and get things done!”

“That’s teamwork for you.” Twilight smiled. “You must be Aster.”

Aster gasped. “You’ve heard of me?! I mean, I know I’m awesome too, but you’re Twilight Sparkle!”

“I have. From Dusky. She tells me you’re a very special filly.” Twilight’s smile widened.

Aster stared—first at Twilight, then me, likely reevaluating if I belonged in the Awesomeness Club.

“Now, Aster, don’t be rude.” Stalwart Stone stepped forward and nudged her. “I am Stalwart Stone and this is Miss Terrabonna. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sparkle.”

“Er, hi.” Terra hung back just a bit.

“Likewise,” Twilight replied. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs and see what we can do for Aster?”

“Wait. Should we really be doing this here?” I asked. When Twilight tilted her head, I added. “Plant magic inside a big tree, that is.”

Twilight waved her hoof. “Oh, don’t worry. My lab is warded in case things get a little crazy.”

“Just a little?” I raised an eyebrow.

“By our standards.” Twilight paused for a moment, then flashed me an excited grin. “Not that this won’t be fun. It’s not like everything I study has to threaten Equestria.”

“Right, right.”

She hurried us down into a room that was filled with machines and a variety of beakers and flasks. It was almost like a couple of the Canterlot University’s labs had been mashed together and miniaturized.

About a dozen clay pots were stacked in the middle of one of the tables, their dead contents rescued from a fate in Applejack’s compost. One of the instruments, consisting only of a thick strip of fabric with an attached metal bar, was laid out beside the pots.

“What is that?” Terra eyed the device suspiciously.

“This? It’s a simple general dual monitor. When powered, this left meter reads the magical resistance factor required to offset a subject’s output. The dials on the right work together to keep track of pulse, temperature, respiration and blood pressure. It can measure all ponies and a wide variety of other species. Oh, and it’s rated for two—”

“Twilight,” I said, stepping in before she could go on another hour. “I think we’re getting a little off track.”

“Oops, sorry.” She didn’t miss a beat. “I guess you only need the gist of things.”

Aster trotted over and peered at it.“Can anypony use it?”

“Technically, yes and no. Anypony can be measured by it, but the capacitor only works properly with unicorn magic.”

“Aw. Why is all the cool stuff made for unicorns?” Aster grumbled.

Twilight laughed. “Actually, there are self-powered versions that anypony can get—they’re just a bit more expensive. Any magic shop in Canterlot should stock them. I should warn you that shopping there can be addictive and the cost quickly adds up.”

I almost thought I detected a hint of pride in Twilight’s voice in that last sentence.

Aster’s face brightened, only to fall again.

Placing a hoof on her shoulder, Terra gave her a soft smile. “I’m sure I can work something out with my wholesalers.”

Aster smiled back—it was a much weaker smile, but a smile, nonetheless.

The device and one of the pots levitated off of the table. The latter settled onto the ground in front of Aster, but the former continued to hover with the strap bent into a semi-circle, eagerly waiting to latch on.

“Lift your hoof, please,” Twilight said, to which Aster quickly complied. Once the strap was secured, Twilight continued, her eyes flitting between the meters and Aster. “Now, if you’ll just show me this talent of yours, we can take a few measurements and draw some conclusions.”

Aster moved her hoof toward the pot, but stopped an inch away. She stared, her hoof visibly shaking.

After a few seconds, Stalwart Stone moved forward and pressed his muzzle into her forelock. She looked up at him.

“It’s okay. I—” he glanced over at Terra. “We’re here for you. No matter what, you’re still the filly we know and love.”

With a slow nod, Aster breathed deep and placed her hoof against the remains of the plant. For a good ten seconds, nothing happened, even as the magic part of Twilight’s meter rapidly rose.

Finally, the twig flashed a vibrant green, before becoming a solid brown. It grew a little, but with each fraction of an inch, Aster’s forehead became exponentially more soaked. At last, she gave up and the colour faded away, leaving the plant as it originally was. Both Terra and Stalwart Stone stared in amazement, while Twilight was busy making notes.

“Was that good enough?” Aster panted.

“Yes. But in order to have enough data points, I’ll have to ask you to do it a couple more times. Not right now, of course. Take your time to catch your breath,” Twilight spoke quickly, but also with a sort of measured restraint. I supposed that last sentence wouldn’t seem very sincere if it sounded like she was rushing Aster.

“Okay…”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Stalwart Stone asked.

“We need to in order to get a proper assessment of Aster’s situation,” Twilight replied, tapping her quill against what had already become a small stack of papers. “But if the readings become dangerous, we’ll abort immediately.”

Aster ended up needing about half an hour between readings, and even then, by the end of the fourth reading, she looked positively exhausted.

The gears in Twilight’s head were turning as she eyed her notes. “Well, the good news is that so far, none of the readings are dangerously far above average.”

“So far?! You mean we’re not done?” Terra looked alarmed as her eyes drifted over to Aster.

“No, we’re done for today.” Twilight shook her head. She hid it well, but I was fairly certain she’d hoped to go a little longer. “To do more would push Aster too far. However, four points is hardly conclusive. So I’d like to try something else.”

“What do you propose?” Stalwart Stone asked.

The dual monitor detached from Aster’s hoof and floated over to Terra.

“Take this home with you and get a reading twice every day for the next month. By then, we should have enough data. Of course, if any of the readings end up in this red zone here, stop what you’re doing and come see me.”

Terra turned to Stalwart Stone. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

Stalwart Stone smiled. “I look forward to it.”

I couldn’t help but grin, concluding that this must be how Terra feels when she’s matchmaking.

---

With all the excitement in the last how many months, it was rare that Night and I got to have a date that didn’t involve the Seapony. So when he asked if I wanted to go to the May Flowers Celebration Dance with him, I jumped at the chance.

Granted, I have to admit that I have a bit of a bias toward spring celebrations. There’s just something about the freshness and renewal of the environment that puts me in a better mood. And what better way to put that mood to use than to celebrate?

Since the event was semi-formal, I had to break out one of my few dresses. One of the nice things about a rural city like Ponyville is that hardly anyone cares if someone wears the same dress twice. Still, I liked to at least spice things up a little, and one of the best ways that didn’t destroy my budget was to rotate accessories. This time, my gold-trimmed, red dress was accompanied by a white-rosed pin and a red-rosed barrette.

The Apples are always kind enough to lend one of their fields to the event. While we could have had it in Town Hall, a spring festival almost demands that it be outdoors.

Night was surprisingly eager to get out onto the dance floor. If someone had told the me observing him hiding at the back of every weather meeting that he would be the first out to the floor at a dance event with hundreds of people, I would have called them crazy. And yet, there he was, doing just that.

The newness of his technique was obvious, even to someone as amateur as myself, but there was also a very earnest enjoyment. I got the impression that he’d secretly taken lessons for my benefit, but found himself enraptured by his new hobby. Between focusing on me and the dance itself, I’d wager he forgot the crowd was even there. Even when Pinkie stepped in for her traditional DJing shift, the tempo of which threw Night for a loop, he seemed relatively in his element.

Of course, enthusiasm can only stave off exhaustion for so long, and we soon found ourselves rather hungry. And while the food provided was nice, a lot of it was the sort of junky snack food that wasn’t especially substantial.

So we headed back into town and I picked the first sandwich shop I recognized. It was a pleasant local restaurant with a large patio and candles—the perfect place for some springtime romance.

Once we were seated, Night let out a long breath. “I’m starving. I didn't expect dancing to be so, um, exhausting.”

I giggled. “I don’t think that was the dancing so much as it was Pinkie Pie. She can have that effect on ponies.”

Night started going through his menu. “Maybe. I haven’t spent much time around her. Not since I first moved into town.”

“No? That’s a shame. She’s not always so silly and hyperactive. She can be a really great friend.” I smiled a little as I counted all the times she’d lifted my spirits—especially when Twilight had gone missing.

“Maybe I’ll have to stop by Sugar Cube Corner more often. Dusky? Are you alright?”

I blinked away my daydream. “Oh. Err, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking back on a good memory of a rough time.”

“Oh. S-sorry.” Night looked away.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I gave him a reassuring smile.

He smiled back, though a sigh escaped his lips. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish you had less of the bad, and more of the good.”

“There’s been a lot of bad.” I reached across the table. “But the good has all been wonderful.”

Night placed his hooves around mine, a slight frown forming on his face. “If it were up to me, it would all be wonderful for you.”

I met his gaze. “That would be nice. But life simply isn’t that easy.”

“It... it’s not that easy, no. Doesn't mean it’s not worth fighting for.”

The day was coming to an end and I pondered what Night and I could do after supper. Perhaps cuddling up with a book would be nice. Or, given how the dance had gone, we’d more likely just cuddle up and pass out.

It was then that I noticed that someone was galloping down the road, her green coat highlighted by the falling light. I squinted, trying to make out the rest of her features. “Is that Starshadow?”

Before Night could answer, Star was already upon us, weaving her way through the tables. “My apologies for interrupting but there is an issue. Merriweather is missing, and all evidence points to a rather disturbing conclusion. I require your help.”

Her worry was visible to a degree I’d never seen. A knot formed in my stomach.

“Missing? What's going on?” Night’s face told me he’d clearly picked up on it too.

I glanced between the two of them. “We should let the restaurant have their table back before we talk.”

We paid as quickly as we could, then started down the road. But this wasn’t the road to the Seapony—it took us out of town. We traveled in silence until, at last, there was no one to be seen.

“I fear that my sister has left for home,” Star said. “She has has been quite concerned about recent events. I apologize, Night Flurry, but she blames herself for your current...condition.”

Night shrunk a little. “It’s alright, Star. She shouldn’t blame herself.”

“Regardless, she does.” Star stopped to look back at us. She seemed lost, perhaps for the first time since I’d known her. “I felt the same about the incident with Terrabona. Sister and I don’t belong here. I fear that our presence here in Equestria has done more harm than good.”

I shook my head. “Everyone makes mistakes, and you and Merriweather have both worked hard to make up for it. You’re both our friends, and at the very least, I know I wouldn’t be here if not for you two.”

“I appreciate that a great deal, Dusky. I have felt something akin to ‘belonging’ here for the first time in years, ever since we departed from our homeland.” Star closed her eyes. “I have done my best not to dwell on my feelings, and friends such as you have been a welcome surprise here in my time in Equestria. However, now the circumstances of our departure are terribly relevant. For Merriweather, I fear fatally so.”

People began to appear again, so we walked in silence until we reached Whitetail Woods.

Star stared straight ahead as she moved. “My sister had long been something of an embarrassment to the Royal Court. Her behavior had been unbecoming for one of her ability. But, she is my sister, and I love her, so I found ways to temper her enthusiasm. The spell which I erringly cast upon Terrabona was one example. The incident which prompted her banishment was the last in a line of incidents which could not be ignored.”

I glanced at Night. Given Merriweather’s disposition, I thought I had a pretty good idea of just what trouble she’d gotten into. “I don’t think there’s a need to go into detail of what she did.”

We reached a clearing where a small section of debris had been clearly cleaned up, leaving room to perform a strenuous activity or two. It was in this section that Star stopped and opened her bag. A heavy book, with a lock that had no physical key slot, hovered to the ground.

“I quite agree, and I did not inquire too deeply into the nature of her activities. But I fear that her recent behavior has cast the exact circumstances of her relationship with Firetail into question.”

“Er... Firetail?” Night asked.

“Firetail was a low-level delegate to the Royal Court. Not terribly important, in the grand scheme of things, but he was regarded as…” Star tapped a hoof against her chin, “hmm... handsome. And he had some affinity for my sister.”

“I take it she returned that, um... affinity?” Night blushed as he caught on to what I’d already suspected.

“When their affair came into the public light, Firetail accused her of several terrible things, many of which I could not believe my sister would do, but Merri offered no defense. Queen Papaya couldn’t look past it, despite my appeals. I had never received the whole story, until…” Star flipped to a specific page and pressed a hoof to one of the passages.

I stepped closer, giving it a careful read. The guy sounded like a real winner under that standard political mask. “He was blackmailing her?”

Sitting on her haunches, Star let out a sigh. “From what I read in her journal, it is now my belief that Firetail selected Merri specifically. She was a dupe he thought he could blackmail. Perhaps they did consummate, but regardless, his accusations were made knowing the court would not listen to Merri’s protests. Instead, she remained silent and accepted the court’s decision to banish her. I would not part with her, and so we left Ostfriesen. I assumed this was all there was to the story, and I did not wish to pry further into my sister’s embarrassment.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Merriweather knew just how much Star cared. To essentially give up her own life to keep her sister safe was certainly a non-trivial decision. Then again, maybe she’d chosen to act alone for precisely that reason—if this conspiracy was as messy as it sounded, Star could easily get caught up in the collateral.

“But now you’ve broken into her diary. What changed?”

As she stared down at the book, Star’s voice barely remained neutral. “Since we learned of Bellerophon, Merriweather has been quite insistent that she needed to return to Ostfriesen in search of answers. I did not understand why she was so adamant that we could find our solution back at home. In our talk with Bellerophon, it seemed to confirm whatever thought she had, and though I believed I had talked her out of this course, it seems I was wrong.”

“Sh-she went back to Ostfriesen? B-but... if she’s been banished... what will they do to her? What does she think she can find?” Night fidgeted.

I continued to read, sifting through many of Merriweather’s lewder thoughts to distill the facts. “I think I’m starting to see it. She says here that she stole Bellerophon’s bracer from Firetail.”

Star nodded. “If she was simply trying to return home, there are things I could do to mitigate the damage if I could get there in time. Instead, it seems that Firetail was more than I assumed. Not a simple delegate or even a blackmailer. He is a member of the Descendants of the Justicar, and I fear she intends to seek them out.”

“Err…” Night stared off into the distance for a moment—it was that same look he got whenever Bellerophon became involved. “Bellerophon. He, um... he wants to know what Descendants of the Justicar means?”

A deep frown formed on Star’s face. “I had hoped he could tell me. They were the ones in possession of his bracer. According to Sister’s diary, before we departed, she went to confront Firetail one last time. I cannot say what her intention was, if she had real feelings, desired revenge, or had some other plan in mind, but regardless, it seems the encounter ended with her stealing the bracer. In her diary, Merriweather seems quite pleased with herself, believing he had stolen the bracer from the Royal Castle, and stealing it back seemed an appropriate farewell to a thief.”

“But that’s not the case, is it?” As I glanced at Night, I realized that this must have been planned to some degree. If not him, some other poor soul would have been saddled with the bracer. “The bracer was theirs. They were planning to bring Bellerophon back.”

Star nodded. “That has become my conclusion as well. Merriweather did not show the bracer to me until we had already passed beyond Ostfriesen’s borders. She told me it had been a gift from a particularly generous lover, and she herself did not recognize the historical significance. I had my doubts that such a valuable relic would be a gift, but once again, I chose not to question my sister. Her behavior has always been unusual, but she has never wanted to hurt others. Firetail told her that the Descendants of the Justicar would have their revenge. And so would Broken Tooth.”

Night was lost inside himself again. “Descendants of... err, Star? Bellerophon says he was the Justicar, but... they can’t be his descendants.”

“I know nothing more, sadly. Only what Bellerophon himself told us. But now you see the train of thought which has lead me to my conclusion." Star motioned toward the journal. "Dusky, observe the next page.”

Dread filled me as I turned the page. There was nothing there but a few torn nubs. I didn’t know if that was better or worse than something damning. “There are pages missing.”

“I suspect Merriweather ripped them out, so that I could not follow her. It is why I need to ask your help. And his help. I need to know where these... ‘Descendants of the Justicar’ would be. And then I need to find them. And if this causes Merriweather any more pain,” Her expression darkened. "I will see it returned tenfold.”

I frowned. There was still so little of this that made sense. It was a definite possibility that the Descendants were lying around their parentage, or simply taking the identity by proxy. But for someone who had little notoriety among even the natives of the country, I had to wonder what they stood to gain. It’s not like people would suddenly rally around some historical figure they’d never even heard of. Then again, perhaps these Descendants knew something very key that we didn’t.

Regardless, I knew I had to do something to help Star and Merriweather. The hard part would be figuring out how.

39 - The Good, The Bad and The Badlands

Despite Star’s frighteningly aggressive zeal, the uncertainty in the air was palpable. Our leads boiled down to a council that Merriweather would almost assuredly avoid and put us several steps behind her; a scumbag politician who would likely be guarded and uncooperative; and an underground organization Star hadn’t even heard of until now. We needed to be more proactive than that.

Night and I shared a glance. Bellerophon had to know more—perhaps not about the Descendants themselves, but about the things they may have fixated on. After all, he should know himself better than anyone. If we could find those, there just might be a yet-unseen trail for us to take advantage of. In fact, having Bellerophon himself confront them could have significant weight in defusing the entire situation.

We all knew it, but no one said anything. The more we tapped into Bellerophon, the more Night was at risk. And what if the permanent solution required Bellerophon’s continuous presence? That thought alone made it painful to look at Night.

This was a fine line—a passage between a rock and hard place in an avalanche zone.

“I… I don’t know,” Night said at last. There was an invisible weight on his withers, pressing him toward the ground.

Star snorted, though it lacked real anger. “I see. I shall find them myself.”

The answer felt prepared, like she couldn’t even bring herself to ask this of Night. Were he to volunteer it, I suspected she would accept in a heartbeat. However, she was perfectly willing to take what she could get and go.

I shook my head. “Wait, Star. Of course we’ll help, but it’s not that easy. Night and I are not as strong as you, and we have to consider that Bellerophon’s help still comes with complications.”

Night was nodding the entire time, his attention clearly within his mind. “Yeah… I’ll help. I just…”

He continued to nod, the motion becoming shorter and more miniscule until it was gone. A frown formed on his lips before he spoke again, “If you want to deny her, be sure she knows it’s you turning her down. Dusky and I will help her regardless.”

I tensed, bracing myself for the incoming sight. It didn’t help. As Night’s body stiffened and Bellerophon closed his eyes, I felt that same panic, that disdain. Even though I had his word, there was a part of me that just couldn’t let it go.

Bellerophon’s reply was chillingly cold, “As he said. I will not help.”

Star met his coldness. “Why?”

“Because I owe you, your sister, your country, nothing. You are the legacy of betrayal.” He glanced at me, ears drooping when he saw my frown. “And, certainly, I could not assist without risking the bearer.”

I watched him carefully. “She’s not asking you to wage a war. Just... tell us where these ‘Descendants’ might be hiding.”

In my mind, I added that if this situation somehow escalated far enough to reach war, three people would have little chance of providing significant opposition to an army, anyway.

Bellerophon clenched Night’s jaw tight, as though the words might escape on their own. “There’s only one place it could be. The Forge.”

Star’s eyes narrowed. “I have never heard of such a place within Ostfriesen.”

“Likely not. It was abandoned after Tapioca and I signed our peace.” Bellerophon turned Night’s gaze my way. “You say this is not a call to war, but get involved, and we may very well find our hooves are forced. The Forge is a place where one builds an army. A fortress built into the caldera of a dormant volcano. When I ruled, my best unicorn artificers harnessed the magic there to forge weapons and armor. Once Ostfriesen united, I personally saw it deconstructed.”

I frowned. The space between that rock and hard place was quickly diminishing.

“Then, why would this be where the Descendants would gather?” Star pawed at the ground.

Bellerophon looked away. “Because, before I died, it is where I led Broken Tooth. If this is all his doing, then that is surely where he has been all these years.”

Star’s expression hardened. “Then, I shall go to this Forge, and I shall find my sister.”

Pain and uncertainty leaked out onto Night’s face, where it remained for some time. Whatever Bellerophon was thinking, it must have been intense.

Finally, he regained himself and spoke, “I will guide you there. It seems one way or another, I was intended to return to the Forge.”

Taking a deep breath, Star’s expression returned to a more familiar neutral. She nodded cordially. “Thank you, Lord Bellerophon.”

Night shuddered and his posture shifted, thankfully, marking Bellerophon’s departure. He glanced at me. “Y-You’re sure you're okay with this?”

“So long as you are, yeah.” I sighed. “This is important. And we can’t just leave Merriweather.”

“Thank you.” Star’s eyes turned skyward. “Ostfriesen is a difficult trek for the unprepared, and Merriweather already has a head start. Meet me here again tomorrow at dawn and we shall set out immediately.”

“R-right. We’ll find her, Starshadow. We’ll find her.” Night looked exhausted. I had to wonder just how much chatting he and Bellerophon had done inside his head. Slipping up beside Night, I nuzzled into his mane. Even if I couldn’t put his mind at ease, I could remind him that I was there for him.

---

I hated pulling Terra away from Aster. There’s no way Aster could miss that something was up, and it was pretty much a given that Stalwart Stone would pick up on Terra’s worry. It almost seemed cruel, knowing that I was going to ask Terra to keep things on the down low. But there was no time to beat around the bush. We had only the night to prepare and rest up before we embarked on one of the most difficult journeys in the world.

As I led her into one of the Seapony’s back rooms, dread filled my stomach. I wasn’t sure if the rooms' growing reputation as the harbingers of bad news would make her more or less likely to have a heart attack.

“Dusky? What is this all about? Is it the…” Terra swallowed, “...Cartel again?”

I shook my head, though a small part of me almost wished that it was. If nothing else, at least the Cartel was a familiar foe. “No, nothing to do with them.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Terra breathed out. “If this is about Aster, I’ve been keeping a close eye on her and doing what Twilight asked.”

“No, not that either.” Drawing in a deep breath, I looked Terra in the eye. “Tomorrow, I leave for Ostfriesen.”

Terra froze, her jaw slowly working itself back into usefulness. “Ostfriesen?! What?! What?!! Dusky, that’s all the way across the Badlands!”

“I know, but—”

She leaned forward, giving me a frenzied look. “The Badlands!”

“Terra.” I placed a forehoof on her shoulder.

She jumped a little, then her eyes shot down to my hoof. They locked on and she stared as though I’d never touched her before. “What?”

“I’m well aware of the dangers. But this isn’t a sightseeing trip. Merriweather is missing and we think she’s gone back there.”

Terra cocked her head.

“But… Merri’s from Ostfriesen, isn’t she? What’s weird about going home?” She furrowed her brow, then grumbled, “Also, why does she have to live on the other side of a death trap?”

I couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “Same reason we live beside one, I guess. Anyway, the whole thing’s a bit complicated. But the long and short of it is that she didn’t come to Equestria on a mere whim. Because of a run-in with some unsavory people, she was banished.”

“Banished? Merri? No way!”

“There’s more. Night ended up with something from Ostfriesen that has errant magical properties. This has caused him more than a couple problems, and, well, Merriweather might think those who got her banished know something.”

Terra slumped, suddenly looking tired. “Merri… Why does this stuff always happen? Why can’t it be a broken hinge or… or a late shipment? Why does somepony’s life always have to be on the line?”

I sat down beside her. “I’m sorry, Terra. I ask myself that a lot and… if I’m being honest, if I’d been less reckless, there’d be less of that. But the rest, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. Or Ponyville. Or the Everfree. It’s like there’s just something that attracts these things.”

“Life is strange.” Terra’s voice was lost, flat, even.

“Yeah. That’s why I want to let you know instead of just disappearing like last time.”

“I appreciate it.” Terra looked down. She chewed on her words a moment, but they came out all at once. “Because you might not be back?”

“What?” I blinked.

Terra’s eyes were a mix of sorrow and anger. “We both know what this trip means, and you have to make it twice. You’re saying this so I don’t have to wonder if you don’t make it back.”

“Well, nothing is certain, but no. I’m telling you so you don’t have to w—” I cleared my throat, tossing that old cliche aside. “So that you can worry less. Rest assured that I don’t plan to die out there.”

I tried to give her a confident smile, though Terra was at least half-right. Even considering my extensive traveling experience, Star’s presence and Bellerophon’s expertise, there was really no other way to put it: the prospect of crossing the Badlands scared the shit out of me.

A resigned sigh escaped Terra’s lips as she kicked a hoof. “I hate this, waiting and wondering if my friends will come back or not. I wish… I wish I could be heroic, like you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not heroic. Merriweather’s all alone and in danger. It’s what anyone would do.”

“No, Dusky. That’s… that’s just semantics,” Terra shivered, her eyes following something invisible on the wall in front of us. “I could never do this. As much as I wish I could, I’m just a shopkeep. Even the idea of fighting somepony to the death terrifies me. The way I see it, this is all complete madness.”

Part of me wanted to object, to say that it terrified me too, but that wasn’t quite the truth. It still scared me, of course, but at some point that I couldn’t remember, life-and-death combat had somehow become something I was used to. And I think that is what truly terrifies me.

“Terra…” I leaned over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’m sorry. Even though you might feel helpless, know that your support gives me strength. What you do, it’s as valuable as any weapon.”

She sighed again as she returned the hug. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. So why just me? Am I… am I supposed to tell Mahogany?”

“No. Night has that covered. Time is of the essence, so we split up to make sure we covered all of our bases. I’d also prefer the exact details be kept discreet. You can tell Blizzard or Blaze if you happen to run into them, but keep it away from public ears.”

Terra scrunched her face. “Blaze? That’s one of your Guard friends, right?”

“She’s still a trainee, but yes, more or less.”

“I guess I can do that.” Terra’s nod was slow, her mind wandering back to the walls. After a moment, she snapped to, determination growing on her face. “Dusky, let me help you.”

“Terra?” I raised an eyebrow. My mind was already at work, thinking of ways to talk her out of coming, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized her tone didn’t seem quite right.

She paced a bit. “Maybe I can’t fight beside you, but I do own a store. I’m sure I must have a few things that will make this easier for you.”

A smile crept up my lips. “Thanks, Terra.”

40 - Looming Storms

The Badlands were quiet, almost deathly so, with much of the fauna that dared to live here content to make rather muted sounds. The ground was hard, cracked and barren. What few plants the land could muster huddled up against the equally sparse rock formations. The dusty brown columns and hills were very tall, providing a small, but blessed, relief from the choking, energy-sapping winds. Though the shelter was welcome, the rocks were often arranged so haphazardly that I was worried a strong gust might collapse them upon us. On top of that, their size could easily hide more than a couple predators. This was only exacerbated by my sleep deprivation. While I could remain vigilant now, I knew within a couple hours that that would wane, opening us up to potentially deadly mistakes.

However, staying up an extra hour or two had been necessary. Terra had led me to the deepest recesses of her stock room, where she’d dusted off a large wooden crate. Inside had been a veritable treasure trove of premium, unused traveling gear. Some of it was clearly a bit dated, but no less useful.

When I’d asked why her best goods weren’t out on the floor, she gave me a bit of a sad smile and said, “Just in case I ever wanted to walk the open road again. I think about it every year, but end up putting it off.”

“Terra… If, when this all settles, you want to come along this summer, you’d be more than welcome.”

She’d shaken her head, smirking a little as her eyes drifted down to the excessive pile of gear. “I guess I’ve been thinking for a lot of years now. I’m probably past that stage of my life. But if this can help you at all, I’m glad I hoarded it.”

It was my turn to shake my head, though not at her. No, I appreciated all that Terra had done, but now was not the time to be lost in recollection. Still, I took a moment to reassess what I’d taken.

There was a thick canvas tent, big enough for four people if we scooted in close; a full, stainless steel, compact cooking set; some high-durability waterskins and a heavy climbing harness. The harness was probably the most important, as Merriweather had run off with both hers and Star’s. While we were currently in a set of flats, I had to imagine the terrain wouldn’t stay that way forever. When it came to the elements and general logistics, we had a leg up.

However, that was no reason to get complacent. Terra wasn’t running an armoury, so we hadn’t gotten any help there. I had little more than my wingblade, with a second stowed away in my flight satchels. Either way, my little blade wouldn’t fare too well against large targets. Despite Star being an experienced monster hunter and Bellerophon’s undeniable power, I was very much on edge. Perhaps my own helplessness was starting to get to me.

As such, my eyes were constantly exploring the cliffs, looking for crevices of just the right size. Of course, they’d need to fit the three of us, but be short enough that a garuda’s long talons couldn’t pluck us out—as if its uncanny ability to swoop down and snatch multiple people at the same time wasn’t enough. The crevice would also need to be narrow or clearly devoid of any basilisk claw marks. Much like Everfree’s cockatrices, were we to wander into a Basilisk nest, it was unlikely anyone would ever find us. Short and narrow would also lend itself to fending off dire wolf attacks. I was certain there had to be even more things to consider, but I hadn’t had any time to do additional research on what little Equestria knew of the Badlands. What I was working off of was what, borne of morbid curiosity, I’d read about in my youth. It was only now that I wished I’d been more inquisitive.

A sudden gust cut across the desolate plains, scattering grit every which way. The two were clearly in cahoots as the former lifted my cloak so that the latter could pelt my coat. I winced, tucking my head to keep the sand out of my eyes. When the wind refused to relent, I looked up, cracking my eyes just enough to take a quick assessment.

Just as my eyes met the skyline, Night called out, “This is storm weather!”

On the very edge of the horizon, roiling brown clumps of grit had latched onto each other, intermingling until they became an ominous, shifting wall. Even though it was already massive, it continued to accumulate until what dull sunlight we had was lost entirely.

“Sandstorm! A Badlands sandstorm!” Star yelled. Her eyes were also probing the meager cliffs, but as it turned out, the storm had almost caught us out in the open. “We have about ninety seconds to find cover! Our best chance is to backtrack! Get moving!”

“Shit!” My eyes widened as my mind shuffled through the last mile. A low, crooked cave hurriedly assembled itself in my mind’s eye. It would be the perfect place to wait this out. Only problem: it was a few minutes back. “This way!”

I broke into a full gallop. Odds were that we wouldn’t have to worry too much about ambushes. Any predator would have to be insane to risk this much to attack us. Good thing too, because the landscape itself seemed pretty intent on fighting us. The hardened ground was suddenly very gritty and crumbly in all the wrong places. The number of times I just about face-planted almost tempted me into spreading my wings and trying to let the wind carry me. It might have even worked, if my goal was to be thrashed across the ground like a tumbleweed.

Despite the difficulties, I did my best to modulate my pace, keeping an eye behind me to ensure Night and Star were no more than ten feet away. I refused to let anyone disappear into the swirling sands. Not now, not ever.

After what felt like hours of scrambling through the grit, my legs felt like they might give out. But the blessed sight of that crooked cave renewed my strength. Powering through, I reached the entrance. Even just standing at the mouth, the absence of the wind made my body feel like it had just shed a two-hundred-pound weight.

As I turned to wave Night and Star in, I got my first good glimpse of the sandstorm’s progression. What had previously been brown puffs had consolidated into something that looked more like a solid cliff face—one that could collapse upon us at any second.

“Hurry! It’s almost here!” I could have sworn I was yelling, but even to myself, I sounded like I was speaking into a burlap sack.

With the immediate danger dealt with, I turned my attention to the danger that was slightly less immediate. I sniffed at the air, following a few of the scents to the floor and the walls. There were quite a few strange smells mingled with the usual cave mustiness, but nothing that suggested something had claimed it. We didn’t have to go far to realize why. Or rather—we couldn’t go far.

The cave was claustrophobically small, consisting of no more than an L-shape with the short end at the back. It was everything I’d been looking for, which made it great for the monster attacks that never happened, but less preferable for the current situation. Sand would still occasionally bounce in off the walls, especially when the winds shifted east. Additionally, we couldn’t go deep enough to dampen the sound by more than a token amount.

Amidst the deafening roar, I could hardly keep my wings still. Uncontrollable weather was generally an accepted part of a weather worker’s job. And yet, I don’t think I know anyone who isn’t bothered by the Everfree’s. Typical wild weather was one thing—where one person might not be enough, a large and organized enough team could generally put it to bed. But the Everfree was different. Stuff that wandered beyond the forest’s border was easy, sometimes even trivial, to dissipate. But go just twenty feet into its borders and everything becomes fiercer, immovable, almost… malevolent.

The Everfree had always been a sore point for every member of the Weather Bureau. Perhaps it has to do with the ancestry of us pegasus members, but there was this intrinsic urge to defy and rise to the challenge—a sort of weather pride, might be the best way to describe it. The Badlands’s weather carried the same vibe, and with it, a similar inkling.

The urge filled my wings, but I fought it back. If I were to go out there, I had little doubt that the gusts would tear my wings right off—and that was before taking into account the damage done by a one-hundred-mile-per-hour wall of sandpaper. In fact, with the way the cave was groaning, I almost expected the storm to burst through the wall like a horror villain.

Night seemed to be holding out a little better. While I caught the occasional wing twitch, he almost appeared calmer than usual. Perhaps it had to do with constantly being the sole person dealing with the night watch and its large helping of renegade weather.

Despite our pegasus problems, Star looked to be the worst off. Even in the confines of the cave, she’d found a way to pace. It was perfectly understandable, of course. If Merriweather was clear of the storm, the gap would widen, bringing her ever closer to other kinds of trouble. If she somehow wasn’t, she was alone while having to deal with this monstrosity. The no-win situation left me feeling rather sullen. I imagined Star must have felt downright sick.

“Hey, Star. Are you doing okay?” I watched her carefully.

She paused a couple beats, nodding slowly and firmly. “I am… fine. It is just the storm.”

I wanted badly to ease her mind, but with as many unknown factors as there were, I wouldn’t be able to say anything with any level of assurance. At best, my words would ring hollow. At worst, they’d worry her further. Finally, I settled on helping her focus that energy into improving our odds for the future.

“So, is there anything more you can tell us about Ostfriesen?” I asked. “We know so little and any given detail could make the search go faster.”

Night stared at the wall for a few moments before giving me an apologetic look. “Bellerophon agrees. He wants to know what happened after he, um… left.”

Star closed her eyes. “Very well. Since Bellerophon's time, Queen Tapioca did much for the country. She ruled fairly, and established many laws to prevent her descendants from abusing their power. She created the knights to defend her people from the harshness of the land, and began to teach her people to cultivate and grow. The land prospered, and the ponies prospered, rather than wasting their energy on war.”

When he opened his mouth, Night’s voice wavered a little, as though some of Bellerophon was leaking through. There was something deeply disturbing about it, possibly even moreso than when he’d taken direct control. “That... Bellerophon says that sounds right. She cared. Apparently she cared, a lot. They didn't want anypony to die on their behalf, which is what drove them together.”

“Then, what drove them apart? May I ask, what happened?” Star’s eyes drifted over to me—she’d picked up on it too.

Night shrunk as he glanced at me. “Maybe... I shouldn't…”

“Don’t hold back on my account. It’s your body. If you’re okay with it, I’ll support your decision.”

When Night nodded, Star spent a few moments considering. “Very well, then. Lord Bellerophon, you have spoken of betrayal, but our history calls you the greatest warrior to ever breathe. You knelt before Tapioca, the final warlord to do so, and the only one to do so without a single battle fought. You are a legend, a hero, but you speak of Queen Tapioca with such disdain.”

Bellerophon took over, although something seemed a little different, as though he was restraining himself. “Over the course of our negotiations, we tried to find the greatest way to create the peace she dreamed of. In time, we complicated the matters beyond the needs of our people. Tapioca's spirit burned like a fire, fierce and unquenchable, and I found in her a pony every bit my equal. My superior in more ways than I wished to admit. Opposition turned to passion, and we became lovers.”

I almost quirked an eyebrow. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought Terra was the one narrating the progression of that relationship.

There was definitely something else on Star’s mind and she spoke with an odd mix of care and directness. “This makes sense, of course. Then, what was the betrayal? Surely, you must have known?”

Bellerophon clenched Night’s teeth. “I learned the news from one of the nobles. They all knew it before I did. She had announced that she was to be married. She turned her back on... on what we had... I could no longer bear to look upon her.”

“Then... you did not know. I... see.” Star cleared her throat as she looked away. “Tapioca’s suitor was a pony to whom her hoof had been promised when she was very young. He was the heir to an influential family within Ostfriesen, a family which formed the core of her army when she had begun her campaign to unify the nation.”

“A political marriage? Then why was it so rushed? Why was it kept so secret, even from me? Especially from me!” Bellerophon’s tone seemed more frustrated than downright angry. I felt I had to agree to an extent. If all he said was true, this whole situation didn’t quite fit together.

Star took a deep breath, closing her eyes again. When she opened them, they held a very serious clarity. “Because, the Queen could not risk anypony knowing the truth. A truth that has been handed down only among the Royal Family—to her direct heirs. Queen Tapioca was pregnant. The marriage needed to be done quickly, so that the heirs would be valid, and that the promises she had made would not spark a new war.”

My eyes darted between Star and Bellerophon. There was suddenly too much new information and I couldn’t decide which was more mind blowing.

“Tapioca, she…” Bellerophon slumped over. “You, are my heir?”

Star nodded. “The firstborn daughters of Tapioca were twins, the Princesses Spirit Dancer, and Mirthful Heart. They never took the title of Queen, instead choosing to rule together after their mother died. Since then, twins have always been revered in Ostfriesen as lucky. Queen Papaya can directly trace her lineage back to them. Many other Ostfriesen nobles and knights can claim some link to Tapioca, and in turn, to you.”

Bellerophon sat motionless, almost frozen in time. I wasn’t entirely sure I could blame him. To think that Star and Merriweather were descendants of the first Queen, that I’d somehow found myself in the middle of some centuries-old political drama and that this was all likely just the tip of the iceberg. Whatever we were headed toward, it was way over my head.

“Tapioca. Why didn't I let you speak. I am—I was a father... Gods, I am such a fool.” Bellerophon turned his eyes to the wall, bearing a vacancy that lingered for only a few moments before he was suddenly Night again. Tears were starting to roll down his cheeks. I couldn’t tell who had been crying—probably both.

When Night looked up, he seemed just as haggard as Bellerophon had. “I... I think he wants to be alone.”

The sandstorm, long forgotten, reasserted its presence, calling out into our cave. But we didn’t answer.

At last, Star slumped. “I did not think that would hurt him so.”

I slipped up beside Night, nuzzling into his mane. Were I able to hug Bellerophon, I think I would have at least given him that comfort. Still, if there was one upside: perhaps now he could be free of his anger. “The truth isn't always easy, but I think he needed to hear that.”

Star looked past us, her mind clearly somewhere else. “Perhaps it is time we rest. If we cannot move forward, then it is best we save up energy for when we are able to continue. I can keep first watch.”