I stirred the next day after being lightly prodded in the side. Hunched over the countertop with my face resting against my arms, I blinked away my lethargy. A sickening stench of alcohol was the first thing I smelled as my senses came into focus, nearly making my stomach flip as I groaned at the terrible odor. I wearily lifted my head, running a hand down my face and over my mouth, pulling it away to find it covered in drool.

“Ugh,” I drowsily groaned. That was about the most intelligent response I could make to that as I absentmindedly wiped the hand on my towel.

I looked further down the bar to find that Daring Do had vacated her seat, likely because she had enough common sense and sobriety to find her way to a bed in this huge house. I had drank so much that I just passed out right where I sat. What followed was an odd dream that I cherished every second of - something about fireworks, methinks - and being that I wasn’t in any immediate danger for once, I caught what small amount of z’s I could.

The only problem with this sleep was that when I had awoken, I felt like the world wanted to kill me simply by allowing me to retain my senses. Everything was too sensitive; the already bright colors of this world grew brighter, almost seeming to try to burn out my retinas; my sense of smell was heightened to a nauseating degree as I inhaled the tangy odor of beer, and my ears rang with an incessant white noise. None of this was helped by the obvious hangover I was currently suffering from.

Another poke from what felt like a thick broomhandle that was flattened at the end started me out of my reverie. I frowned, turning a withering glare to what I had expected to be the orange apple-bottomed pony from the orchard. Instead, I found Marzia directing a piercing glare right back at me with her large blue eyes.

We stared at one another for a few seconds before I turned away from her, resting my head on the table again.

“Mr. Ladarion!” shouted the cruel little pony.

“Agh, sonuva- ow!” I courteously retorted, nearly falling off of the small barstool as I did so.

“It is time to wake up. You’ve been sitting there long enough.”

I muttered darkly before responding, rubbing my temples vigorously as though I could massage away all of my head pains. “Can I have five more minutes, please?”

“No.”

“C’mon! I literally just said please.”

“And I literally just said no.”

I frowned at the Queen of Snark before running a hand through my hair and letting out an agitated sight.

“Too early in the mornin’ for this shit,” I muttered.

“Mr. Ladarion, it is three o'clock in the afternoon,” responded Marzia.

I did a double take at that information, opening and closing my mouth before I regained my faculties. “Really?” I asked.

The maid sat down, giving me a small nod. “Yes, really.”

I looked at her for a few more moments, hearing a shuffling behind the bar as I turned toward the bartendender as he awkwardly cleaned a few mugs. Huh. So apparently he’d rested up a bit and gotten back to the bar without me hearing him.

I turned back to Marzia before commenting.

“You sure I can’t sleep for five more minutes?”

“Ow ow! Okay, OW!”

I was led to the Blanca’s dining hall by Marzia. Well, less ‘led’ and more so coerced. I couldn’t help but cry out in undignified agitation as I was pulled into the hall by ear, feeling humiliated as the eyes of the ponies occupying it turned to the maid and I. Here I was, a man around five feet and eight inches, being pulled around by a pony that only came up to my chest. I was basically on my hands and knees as I was dragged in by the vixen.

“Good God, Cocoa! Can’t you see that I’m up by now!?” I exclaimed in outrage as I was pulled along.

The maid, who was busy hauling me to my seat in the most embarrassing way possible, didn’t even bother to respond. I could’ve sworn I’d see a satisfied smile etched upon her face if I weren’t preoccupied with the situation at hand.

When Marzia finally tossed me to my designated spot at the large dining room table, I heard a few snickers sounding out from across the way. Looking up with heat rising to my cheeks, I noticed Queseque covering his muzzle with a hoof. I glared at him for finding joy in my plight, but before I could formulate any cruel ideas on how I was gonna shut him up or get back at Marzia, a throat clearing snapped me out of my thoughts.

I turned to find Mr. Blanca coolly staring my way, taking a puff of his cigar. A mare with no horn or wings who seemed to be short and somewhat on the skinny side compared to the few mini horses I’d met since my time here was sitting next to him. And by skinny, I mean nearly sickly so; enough for even me, a member of another species, to feel a bit concerned for her health. She was a faded shade of yellow, with tired blue eyes and a green mane at shoulder length. The beginnings of wrinkles were observable on her otherwise youthful face, betraying her age. She was dressed in a casual summer dress that complimented her eyes. And by casual, I mean casual for people that were filthy stinking rich.

I found it safe to presume that this mare was Mrs. Blanca.

“I see that the dead has arisen, Sr. Ladarion,” said Mr. Blanca as he placed his cigar on an ashtray lay on the table. “Did you enjoy the booze?”

I dug a finger into my temple yet again as he spoke, still mildly irritated. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I answered. I kept my response succinct to spare my poor throbbing head of any more pain.

Mr. Blanca raised a brow. “You seemed a lot more talkative yesterday, Sr. Ladarion,” he said.

“That’s cuz my head wasn’t fuckin’ spinning the entire time!” I snapped back at him more harshly than I had meant to.

A deathly silence settled within the room, the host’s already quiet wife staring right at me with a soft frown and Q giving me a surprised glance as his snickers died out. Mr. Blanca picked up his cigar from the ashtray and pressed it to his lips yet again, lightly puffing it once more before placing it back down.

He blew a small amount of smoke out over the table before looking at me with a cool expression, his bushy moustache slightly twitching. I felt a great apprehension rest upon my shoulders as I realized just how badly I screwed the pooch. I gulped as I attempted to form an apology before the silence was finally broken when Mr. Blanca leveled his stare on Marzia, who was standing off to the side with no decipherable expression on her face as she quietly watched the events in front of her transpire.

“Señorita, it is time for lunch. I can see that now would be a wonderful time to partake in the fine cuisine of our culinary mastermind, Chef Tidings. Be sure to bring out the red wine, I am especially parched on this afternoon.”

“But of course, Sr. Blanca,” said Marzia with a small nod before trotting off to the kitchen that was right next to the dining area.

I let out a small breath of relief when it occurred to me that Mr. Blanca was being patient with me. I was worried I would get kicked out of this “La Casa Blanca” without my phone, my money or my clothes. That would be unpleasant. But I’d still have this red succubus stone that I for some reason keep carrying around without even realizing it!

I looked down to the object in question before shaking my head clear of all distractions, looking back up to Mr. Blanca to do as much asskissing as would be necessary to keep me off the streets naked and poor.

“Look, Mr. Blanca, I apologize for that. I didn’t mean to-”

Mr. Blanca raised a hoof to silence me as he picked up the cigar again, taking a long puff before releasing more smoke into the dining area. I’m fairly certain that if this place had smoke detectors, it’d always be flooded with this guy around.

“No apology is required, Sr. Ladarion, so long as you do not make the same mistake twice.” And again the cigar found its way to the ashtray. Nahive really needed to figure out where he wanted to keep that thing, in his mouth or on the table.

Still, aside from that, I gave him a shaky nod, glad that he wasn’t going to have any of his guards walk into the room and “escort” me off of the premises. For some odd reason, I don’t think I would have really enjoyed that, in all honesty.

Only then did I finally catch wind of just how quiet the dining hall was. The only person who had spoken so far was Mr. Blanca. His wife, his maid, and heck, not even his son had spoken! From what I had known about the chatterbox that was Queseque being so untalkative was certainly out of character for the lively lad. I just assumed it had something to do with family tradition or table manners.

Mr. Blanca placed his hooves on the table, leaning forward to look me in the eye. “Now! On to introductions!” he said with a small amount of forced enthusiasm.

He turned to the mare sitting next to him, who was still looking like she’d be anywhere other than here. “This is my loving wife, Carmina Blanca. We have been married for over twenty years, and her beauty never ceases to enrapture me.” He gave Mrs. Blanca a kiss on the cheek, one that she hardly responded to.

“And this,” he turned to Queseque, “is my son, Queseque. I am aware that the two of you have already met. He is the youngest of my three sons, the seven others being none other than my graceful daughters. Unfortunately, my two other sons, Edrico and Manuelle, have left town for reasons yet to be explained in full detail with me.” Mr. Blanca pursed his lips at that before turning to me. “I’d say Queseque has grown into a fine stallion, but with the way he’s been behaving, I see little point in leaving him any of my fortune if he is prone to waste it away on whorses and alcohol in but one weekend.”

I was expecting what Mr. Blanca said to have been some kind of joke, laughing a bit awkwardly at it in an attempt to dispel the growing tension in the room, but one look at Q, the friendly pony who had invited me to his house in return for literally nothing, told me otherwise. Q was looking down at the table, an expression of bitter hatred adorning his normally cheery face. I was feeling… something in the air that seemed to be curing me of the pangs of pain running through my membrane, as I noted that that seemed out of character for him.

I couldn’t properly respond to what was being said, so I chose not to speak as I waited for Mr. Blanca to continue what he had to say.

Before anything more could be said, though, in walked Marzia and a pudgy green pony with a Chef Boyardee toque atop his head and a goatee rivaling that of Terry Crews’ on his face. The appearance was completed by a double-breasted chef’s coat. They wheeled in a silver cart, opening it to reveal a mouthwateringly large array of food, ranging from salad and pasta to steak and other meaty delights…

Why were ponies serving meat?

That question was pushed to the back of my mind for the time being when the maid and the chef started piling food onto plates and serving it to us as we sat. Meat included. Aside from the obvious confusion I had about ponies eating other animals, I noticed that who I presumed to be Chef Tidings didn’t seem to pay me much mind. I wondered why that was.

All the questions I had were swiftly knocked from my thoughts the moment a plate full of assorted veggies and beef was placed in front of me, along with comically oversized silverware.
The chef walked off to the side, bowing lightly to Mr. and Mrs. Blanca. “Bon appetit, Sr.and Sra. Blan-” he was interrupted by the sounds of me noisily devouring everything on my plate.

“Oh my god, this is like nirvana to the taste buds!” More chewing. “A delight to the senses, isn’t it, my friends!?” I said to my captive audience, no cares in the world as I happily tore through the food on my plate.

Everyone sans Mr. Blanca looked on in abject horror as I greedily cleaned my plate of everything, speaking through a mouthful of orgasmic flavor… that’s not what she said.

“I’ll have what I’m having!” I shouted passionately, closing my eyes as I enjoyed eating my first real meal since I’d gotten here however long ago. When I opened them again, though, I noticed just how silent the room had once again become.

Looking up from the food in front of me, I was met with several owlish stares. My only defense for my behavior is that I’ve always been an… enthusiastic eater. Especially after I’d gone for what was probably a week without any proper food.

I coughed awkwardly, looking around the room as I ignored the large mess staining my face. Again, not what she said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Q push his plate away from him as he shook his head. “You can consider my appetite more dead than Lulamoon’s stage career.”

I had no idea what this ‘Lulamoon’ was, but it sounded disappointing.

“Anyhow,” began Mr. Blanca, almost looking as bored as his wife when she reigned in her surprise at my frenzy, “You have quite the… voracious appetite,” he said as he somehow picked up one of the forks and knives in his hooves, cutting into the meat on his plate. As he lifted it to his mouth, he paused. “Why is that?” He then placed the delectable cut into his mouth, chewing slowly as he raised a brow in my direction, waiting for my answer.

I wiped the food from my face, ignoring the heat once again rising to my cheeks as I tried to claw at whatever dignity I could hope to grasp after being pulled by the ear, put into my place, and recently creeping everybody out simply by eating.

I think it goes without saying that I didn’t have much left.

I cleared my throat as I saw all eyes were again on me. “Since I ain’t yet got a foundation, I been going wherever the wind takes me. Kinda like a tumbleweed, except even less graceful. Most I’ve eaten were a couple of fruits from the forest, and that’s about it.” I scratched at my chin as I finished explaining, and Mr. Blanca’s eyes widened, for once breaking his stoic expression.

“You mean the Everfree Forest?” he asked, almost urgently.

I looked at the pony, shrugging. “I guess? I don’t much know about the layout of this area.”

“You truly are an alien. To have survived the Everfree with no scars whatsoever…”

“I’ve been in that place for about three days. Just recently got here as a matter of fact, and I’m sure Q here can vouch for me on that.”

Mr. Blanca looked at Q, who then nodded his affirmation with a small, lopsided smile that he aimed at me. “When I met Ladarion here, he was almost just walking into town, asking everypony around where the bar was. Things happened, and, well, now he’s here for the time being.” Mr. Blanca then glanced back to me, examining me up and down in what appeared to be a new light.

“You don’t say…” he seemed to have nigh completely forgotten about the meal at his nose until Marzia, who I hadn’t even noticed leave with the cook, walked back with four small wine glasses and a bottle filled to the brim with crimson liquid perched atop her slender back, secured between her wings. I was quite impressed with how well she balanced them, in all honesty.

Mr. Blanca blinked at her sudden entrance, allowing a small smile to make its way to his face as he noticed what the maid carried with her. “Ah, there is the Ghorfindum Wine I was expecting.”

Marzia nodded lightly as she took the five items and placed them on the table with her wings, manipulating the objects with her feathers as though they were fingers. She popped the cork of the bottle with a corkscrew that she produced from… somewhere, pouring the red wine into the glass on the table.

She left the bottle on the table by Mr. Blanca, the corkscrew disappearing in the blink of an eye when I turned my attention away from it, making me wonder for a moment whether it ever really was there.

“Some call this particular brand the “Wine of Introspection”. Quite a fitting name, I would say, as it certainly helps disconnect one from the outside world. Would anypony else like a drink?”

The thought of more alcohol after my aching head this morning made me immediately frown at the offer, and me finding the word ‘anypony’ rather exclusive didn’t help it any. He turned to Q, who then shook his head with an innocent smile that seemed… sinister in a way. Mr. Blanca raised a brow in what looked to be surprise before turning to me.

“Naw, man. I’ve already drank enough.”

He pursed his lips as he turned to his wife, the mare giving a reserved “Si.” in response. He smiled at that, and when Marzia approached, Mr. Blanca turned his attention to her.

“You are dismissed, Srta. Decocco,” said the moustached pony.

Marzia curtsied. “As you wish, Sr. Blanca.” She then took her leave of the room, likely off to do whatever else maids do in mansions.

Mr. Blanca took the “Ghorfindum Wine” he seemed to treasure so much and poured it into a second glass for his untalkative wife, humming a small tune as he did so. “Gracias, Nahive,” she quietly uttered as she took the glass in her hooves.

“De nada, mi amor,” replied Mr. Blanca before turning to Q and I, bottle in hoof. “Are you two absolutely certain that you do not want any of this fine wine? It is quite rare nowadays and the taste is exquisite!” His excitement for this one thing almost made me change my mind to see what all the fuss was about, but one more thump in my head made me quickly abandon that line of thinking.

“Thank you, Mr. Blanca, but I’m sure I don’t want no more alcohol. Just seein’ it is making me a bit green in the gills.”

“What about you, mi hijo? I know you are more into beer and the like, but I’m sure any kind of alcohol would sound enticing to you, si?”

Queseque’s smile became more strained as his father regarded him. “I am quite alright, Papi. Ladarion and I have already shared a few drinks prior to this and I would not want to impose. I know how much you like this particular brand of wine.”

There was definitely a strain in the relationship of this family despite how happy and functional Q made them out to be when he told me their story. Still, I didn’t want to overstep my bounds by asking about it. That, and I wasn’t overly worried about their family issues, either.

“Well, more for Carmina and I, I suppose.” He placed the bottle of red wine down on the table before grabbing his glass and drinking from it ever so slowly, savoring every crimson drop of the liquid. Queseque looked on avidly as his father drank heartily from the glass, letting loose a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Ah~. As warm and flavorful as ever.”

Upon him finishing his drink, Mrs. Blanca finally decided to place her lips to her own glass, opting to down her wine in a single gulp as opposed to savoring it.

When she placed the glass back on the table, she pushed out her chair. “I am sleeping,” she said in her airy voice. I’m guessing she meant to say ‘I’m going to sleep’, but with her not speaking any English until now, I could safely assume that it wasn’t the primary language used within the mansion’s walls.

Mr. Blanca sighed before leaning in to kiss her on her cheek. “Dulces sueños, mi delicada flor.” He picked up her hoof and placed his own overtop it, the mare nodding and pulling away from him, walking out of the dining area.

Mr. Blanca sighed again. “She has been sleeping more and more often, as of late. She seldom eats anymore.” He poured himself another glass, going bottoms up as his wife had a moment before, smacking his lips together at the taste. “It is sadly ironic that this is the glass that has torn us so before,” he said to himself before again upturning the glass.

I noticed that Q’s almost nonexistent smile disappeared when his mother walked out of the room, a flash of concern, possibly even guilt, glossing over his eyes before he, too, sighed, turning to look at the table.

“The lack of magic has slowly been desiccating the earth upon which I cultivate my crops and now I find my love life parched. Damn those Princesses and damn this alcohol. Damn it all, I say!” he swiped the glass off of the table, shattering it on the floor, before grabbing the bottle and swigging mightily straight from it without a care in the world, seeming to have forgotten that he had two guests in the same room as him. I certainly was startled at the sudden change from calm and collected to ranting and destroying things.

He reigned in his anger after drowning it with a river of wine, calmly placing the bottle down on the table before two simple words. “Leave me.”

Queseque and I stood up, me a little more awkwardly since my chair wasn’t exactly made for someone my size, and made to exit the room. “One moment!” he said right before we left. “Ladarion, your original clothing, shoes forgotten, was irreparable.” I could feel myself blanch at that, but before I could panic about having to wander about naked, he continued. “So I have had my tailor mock the design and fabric to duplicate them. Twice. So now you should have no worries about wandering about naked.” How did he use the exact same wording as me? “I understand what it’s like to want to dress to impress.”

He then waved us away as he once again lifted the bottle to his lips, me wanting to thank him for the gesture, especially without asking for pay, but deciding to simply leave him to his lonesome.

“Ey, L?”

I looked down at the miniature horse that was Queseque. “Whattup, Q?”

“It’s unorthodox, but I could lead you to your room. That is usually the job of the maids and staff, but I’m guessing with the shenanigans that went on yesterday that you didn’t even get a chance to see your guest room, let alone memorize where it would be in this labyrinth of a mansion.”

“You sure, man? I could just go and find Cocoa or talk to one of the guards. I did it before to find that bar of yours.”

“I am sure, amigo,” he said with his usual cheery smile that for some reason didn't reach his eyes. "After you get your clothes on, I plan on showing you around town. You will come to find that there's never a dull moment in Sauna Pai."

Despite a flash of anxiety I felt, I shrugged. So long as I was with someone in a family as influential as the Blancas, I should be fine, right? “Well lead on, then, pony. I’m tired of free ballin’ in a stranger’s home.”

Queseque’s expression took a turn for the sly as he picked a direction to walk off to. “You should try it more often, homes. I do it all the time.”

I turned to walk behind him before blinking. “Wait, wha-” And then it dawned on me, a shudder working its way through my body. “I do NOT want that image in my head, Q!”

Q chuckled at my flustered reaction, his little joke making the walk upstairs to the guest room I’d been given a lot more awkward than it would have otherwise been with him at the lead. I shook any unwelcome thoughts from my head as I stared pointedly at the wall on the other staircase across the hall.

We reached the second floor hallway when Q spoke again, a cheeky little smile on his face. “You seem a bit red, amigo. Are you running a fever, or are you thinking naughty thoughts?” I shivered at the lewd edge in his voice.

I coughed into a balled hand, still not looking directly at him as I responded. “Let’s just get to my room, alright? I’m tired of catching every draft that runs through this house.”

“You didn’t answer my question, L,” he said, giving his hips a little shake as he looked back at me.

My eyes widened at the display, my mind drawing blanks at the implications of Queseque’s actions. “Now you are speechless? I suppose it truly is the former, then. A bit disappointing, but you’ll get over it in time, amigo. In the meantime, we still have an entire day to bond!” When I registered what he said, I let out a growl of annoyance. What this guy would do simply to get a reaction out of me!

We continued on in relative silence, Q whistling a jaunty tune that sounded suspiciously like Livin’ La Vida Loca and me quietly simmering at his antics. I took to marveling once again at the sights of the mansion before my concentration was broken. “And here we are!” said Queseque as he hopped to a stop in front of a random door.

I quizzically looked at the door Q stood next to. “How do you even know which room is mine, Q? This hallway has enough rooms to second as a hotel for at least a dozen weary travelers.”

Q tapped the side of his head with a hoof, goofily smiling. “Memory, amigo. I only had to look at the blueprints for this mansion once before I could make my way to every nook and cranny without a problem. It is quite helpful to remember things that easily. Not to mention how me and mi hermanas used to play hide and seek when we were younger. Anywhere was fair game, so long as it was on Papi’s estate,” he straightened up with pride. “I won nearly every time I was the seeker. Oliviana and Penelope would call me a cheater, and they made sure I only got to be seeker a few times as a result, but we always had fun.”

With him seeming a bit more nostalgic as the usual brightness in his eyes faded just a bit, I noticed that the smile he had no longer reached them. Although I didn’t ask for details on his past, I found myself quite curious about his family. I could empathize with him in some ways on the aspect of simpler times with family members, where I didn’t have to worry about the world chewing me up and spitting me back out.

“Huh. Reminds me of my time spent with my sister, Tamaria,” I said as I looked down at Q. “We used to do the same sorts of things: hide and seek, tag, I Spy, you name it. We even used to play with the garden hose and - when I got my hands on a BB gun from some rich fool’s kid in another division - shoot at flocks of geese in the sky.” I looked off to some random spot in the hall, not comfortable holding eye contact for too long as I spoke of myself. “We wasn’t supposed to do either of those things, ‘cause my parents were already swimming in bills and the species of the geese were endangered, but hey, we was just dumb kids. It’s not like either of us actually hit anything with it anyway, but damn did we try. Always got us a few lickings from Mom and Dad, but we never really learned our lessons. What can I say? We was some hardheaded brats. It was the most fun I’ve ever had, though. Tamaria was one of the few people aside from a group of kids at my school that I ever really got along with. Sure we’d fight and argue almost all the time, but we’d always make up almost immediately afterward, like a brother and sister should.” I frowned softly. “At least up till recently.”

Q’s smile disappeared entirely at that. “So what happened to the two of-” he began before I cut him off.

“It don’t matter,” I said a bit more harshly than I meant to. “If there’s one thing this world has shown me other than to never let my guard down, it’s gotta be that I should never allow myself to be corrupted by idleness. All that matters to me is that I can get back home so I can reconnect the severed rope that ties our relationship together. ‘Sides, it ain’t like you understand that kind of hardship, Q. You’re rich! What problems could you have that money can’t solve?”

Q gave me a sad look at that before sighing, producing the most tired sound I’d ever heard him make. As his shoulders sagged, I couldn’t help but think of a man who once was pushed so past the breaking point that they couldn’t feel any strong emotion other than an overriding sense of hopelessness. “There are quite a few things that no amount of bits in the world can solve, Ladarion.”

My frown softened at that. “Q, I didn’t mean to sound so flippant. Sometimes, I speak before I think, and-” he interrupted me this time.

“It's alright, L, I get it,” he said as he lifted his hooves up into the air in a ‘simmer down’ motion. “Personal matters, especially those involving family members, are quite sensitive. If anything, I should be the one apologizing here. Now go and get your clothes on, you stupid ape, before daylight dies. You didn’t exactly seem too comfortable being around those Saddle Arabians last night.” That same trademark smile of his resettled itself upon his muzzle. “When the daylight fades, the red-garbed ponies come out to play, after all.”

On that ominous note, Q pushed me inside the room and shut the door behind me. I blinked as I heard hoofsteps echoing off the hallway walls, along with Q humming yet another tune. I looked around the room, it being nothing special. Just a bed that, interestingly enough, was king-sized, meaning I wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping uncomfortably, a lamp with no switch that sat unlit on a nightstand in the corner of the room, and, most importantly to me, a well-polished desk that had both sets of my duplicated clothes neatly folded on the top of it.

I stepped forward, rubbing my hand on the copies, finding that they seemed to be made of the same material as the original. “Dang, man. I guess this ‘magic’ is pretty efficient. How the hell anyone other than a unicorn holds a job on this planet is beyond me.”

Seriously, consider this: the unicorn that bandaged me up, Miss Higher, is able to lift a variety of objects with her mind and no need for assistance. If someone like Q were to do the same, they’d have to fumble around with one thing at a time with those cumbersome, clumsy hooves of theirs.

Then comes whoever duplicated my clothes. Now, I’m not sure whether they were straight up copied or anything, but handling a needle in the clothing business is the same as handling a needle in the medical field, unless these ponies have machines that do the sewing for them, which I wouldn’t immediately disregard considering the fact that I was I was held captive in a factory that was once used specifically to manufacture weapons in the middle of this godforsaken desert.

What I’m trying to get across is that unicorns with their telekinetic capabilities seem like they’d be less uncoordinated and more proficient in their lines of work. But that’s just me. The guy whose track record includes getting mauled by a manticore straight out of Freak Mythology, having his ass handed to him by a monkey, and more recently being kidnapped by a band of misfits and nearly sold into slavery. Yup, I’m the guy whose opinions are completely valid.

Anyway, after I was done fondling my clothes, I decided to drop the towel so I could finally throw them on. Thankfully they had an extra pair of undies and socks to go with everything, because I couldn’t imagine the horrible chafes I’d get without either of them considering how much I’ve walked these past few days/weeks/whatever. I shuddered at the painful thought.

I looked down to the wrappings around my forearm, peeling them back to find slightly pinkish skin resting underneath, looking nowhere near as scathed as it had been yesternight. Yes I said yesternight. Sue me. It’s like ‘yesterday night’ but compressed into one word, and it’s not like I have to justify myself in my own writing. I can write whatever I want here.

I sighed in relief at the sight. Somehow, I’d gotten some kind of regenerative healing powers since I’d gotten here. I’m pretty sure that spirit Salami had something to do with them. I wasn’t going to complain about being able to survive most encounters because of my newfound ability to rapidly heal. Hell, I hardly had any scars covering me after all of the times I’d been maimed and sliced. I still had that clawmark on my chest from Mufasa that stood out the most, but things such as the cut along my ribs, courtesy of Hawkeye, were very light and easy to miss. The more superficial scratches were gone completely.

I placed the red stone that I don’t remember picking up from the dining room table or carrying around at all on the desk, grabbing the pair of underwear and putting a leg through it. It was at that moment that Marzia decided to open the door.

“Mr. Ladarion, are you finished dressi-” I cut her off with a completely manly and dignified shriek.

“Don’t you ponies know how to knock!?” I shouted, trying my darndest to pull my underwear up to preserve my diminished decency.

Marzia’s eyes widened as she jumped at my hollering. “I-I’m so sorry, Ladarion, I didn’t mean to-”
I stepped on the elastic of my underwear, causing me to lose my balance and collide with the corner of the desk, my back taking the brunt of the impact. I let out a grunt as I pressed my hands in front of my crotch, still more concerned about my privacy than my pain. “Just get the hell out, Cocoa!” I said through clenched teeth, my eyes shut tight in discomfort. Although I could tell she wanted to do the opposite of that - her job was to keep the guests from bleeding all over Blanca property, after all - she complied, giving another small, yet flustered ‘Sorry!’ before shutting the door.

I breathed deeply for a few moments, counting to ten yet again to calm myself down before opening my eyes and picking my ass up off the cold floor and pulling my underwear to where they belonged. What an idiot I am for having forgotten to lock the door. Still, I was expecting some form of forewarning before Marzia just up and barged in like that, so I was understandably caught off guard. Oh, and pissed. Can’t forget pissed.

I threw on my black dupe jeans and a gray shirt, leaving the hoodies - that had sleeves that only went down to the elbow due to what I’m guessing was a fault of the replication magic only being able to copy the exact proportions of clothing based on their previous conditions - on the table with my other black jeans and gray shirt. Would it have killed them to put a bit of variety in the colors? I mean, seriously, they could have made the jeans gray and the shirt black! A little bit of color inversion never hurt nobody.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before reaching for the doorknob. I yanked the door open to find Marzia a respectable distance away from my guest room. I narrowed my eyes at the equine as her face reddened, clearing my throat to catch her attention when she turned so as to not face me. “So where to, Marzia?” I stated her name as though it were an accusation. She flinched a bit when she realized I hadn’t used that pet name I gave her before bringing her expression back to its usual aloofness.

Marzia straightened her back as she got off of her haunches and gestured for me to follow, which I did without question. “I-I was not expecting you to be undressed, Mr. Ladarion. I apologize for assuming.”

“You know what they say about people who assume, Marzia. It makes an ass out of you and me.” Her ears flattened somewhat at that, but she made no move to respond. I felt a small smile reach my lips at that. I scratched my chin as I continued. “But I accept your apology. Though I wasn’t expecting you to open the door without at least knocking first, I know we all make mistakes. So don’t worry, ‘cause we still friends.”

Marzia stiffly looked ahead, seeming to force her ears to stand at attention yet again. “So we are friends, now, Mr. Ladarion?”

“Soon as you cut that ‘Mister’ crap.”

“I have no idea what it is you are talking about, Mr. Ladarion.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why you gotta be so rude, Cocoa?”

“It makes my days more interesting, Mr. Ladarion. Not to mention the fact that you are one of the few people that I have ever been able to jest with in such a way while on the job.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, smiling.

Marzia finally turned back to regard me with a cool stare. “Don’t.” And like that, my smile disappeared. Fucking ponies, man.

“So if you don’t mind my asking, what was up with Nahive at the dinner table?”

“I would ask the same of you, Ladarion,” said Marzia as she glanced back to me. “You are certainly an avid eater.”

I scratched my chin yet again, trying to ignore the heat rising on my face. “Well, it’s been a little while since I had any real food to eat. You heard me when I said I was in that forest, right?”

Marzia nodded. “Yes, I recall you saying something about spending three days there. How you survived the Everfree, I have no clue. Very few ponies ever last a night in that cursed place, let alone three.”

“Well, I ain’t a pony, now am I?”

Marzia stopped, this time turning to fully face me as she gave me an appraising once over. “You are going to have to tell me about your experiences there. I’ve only heard tale of the Everfree, and the only other individual I can immediately think of that has trekked through there unscathed is our other guest, Daring Do.” Marzia spat that name out like it was made of spoilt milk, her expression souring. “And she is thought of as a walking legend for that.”

“Yeah, from what little I remember of her crazy stories she’s told me, she certainly ain’t nobody to trifle with. I mean, I wouldn’t call what I did ‘surviving’ since it was mainly me blindly charging through a forest all willy nilly with no plan whatsoever, but Daring? She probably conquered that place.”

“She is one of the reasons we have safe paths through the Everfree mapped.” I felt my eye twitch at that. “Although the forest changes from time to time due to the latent chaotic forces that saturate its entirety , the paths usually remain unaltered. Or at least that is what I have heard.” Yeah, I knew I was lucky to have escaped that place with my life. But to know that a place changes actively as though it were a living, breathing being? That made me realize just how badly things could have turned out if I hadn’t followed Four-Eyes in an attempt to wring his little monkey neck. I never thought my violent, impulsive nature would actually get me out of trouble for once.

“So you’re meaning to tell me that this Everfree has safe paths?”

“Yes,” responded Marzia. “They are marked as safe due to their consistency compared to other parts of the forest and because the forest’s more carnivorous inhabitants generally avoid them. Know that all of the Everfree is still yet to be drawn, but foal steps are better than no steps, I suppose.” I slapped my palm into my forehead and groaned. “What is wrong?”

“I’m not saying that I’m an idiot, but I’m a damn idiot. If I coulda gotten my hands on a map or somethin’, I’d’ve saved myself so much trouble. I could have avoided having to tussle with Mufasa, for Christ’s sake! That would’ve been one less life or death scenario in my short time spent here!”

Marzia slightly flinched at my outburst. “Who is this ‘Mufasa’ you speak of, Mr. Ladarion?” she asked warily.
I tossed the red stone I had - seriously, how does it keep getting near me? - up and down in my hand. “He’s a, uh, whaddaya call it? Oh, manticore! He’s a manticore. Yeah, he had the scorpion tail and the lion head and everything.” For whatever reason, I felt proud of myself for remembering that.

Marzia’s large pupils shrunk down to pinpricks at the word ‘manticore’ before she shook her head, returning them to normal. “And you faced this manticore?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re still here?”

“Kinda.”

“And you’re still in one piece?”

“Mostly.”

“B-but you’re an idiot! How could you have escaped an encounter with a creature as ferocious manticore!? They’re the fiercest hunters of the Everfree!”

I gave her a winning smile at that. “I punched him in the face.” It was Marzia this time whose eye twitched.

“You are definitely telling me that story sometime,” she said as she once again took to trotting down the hallway that seemed a lot longer for some reason.

“How do you know so much about the Everfree anyway? You speak like someone who’s got some experience with that place.”

Marzia hesitated for a moment. “Though Equestria is in a state of discontent at the moment, the press has made sure to stay on top of all the events that have been transpiring, and they are raking in the bits because of it. If one enterprise is benefitting from the world’s unrest, it is those journalists and their sponsors, specifically Canterlot Press. They were known for exaggerating the smallest details decades ago for desired reactions, but nowadays, they simply record events and they are best sellers. They actually cut smaller details from the stories now. Unfortunately, that harms the lives of some as a result.” Marzia sighed, the frown still present on her face deepening at that sentence. “So in short, I read the news, Ladarion. Everything important is on the news.”

“Specifically the part about Daring Do mapping the Everfree?” I poked. Marzia tried to cover her darkening expression with that veil of cold impassivity she had before, and it was then that I knew there was a bit more to this story than was being told.

“Yes. Specifically the part about Daring Do singlehoovedly mapping the Everfree.” Something’s up. I’ll get Daring to elucidate, ‘cause I’m sensing some hostility originating from a certain pony-shaped maid. With that thought in mind, I decided it would be a good idea to change the topic.

“Anyway, back to the first topic, I get a bit… unrestrained when I’m hungry. So that’s what you saw at the dining room table. Still, you haven’t answered my question about Mr. Blanca. What was up with him earlier?”

“It is not my place to speak of the members of this family with complete strangers, but since you are a moron,” I let out a snort at that. “And since your mouth is as big as your ego, I am only going to tell you the obvious to ensure that you do not poke your nose where it is not needed: Mr. Blanca and his wife have been having… problems in their relationship. I will leave it at that.”

“What kinda problems are we talking abo-”

“I will leave it. At. That.” I could hear the frown in her words.

“Alright, then. That actually makes sense of a few things, at least,” I said thoughtfully. “What’s up with him and Q? I could feel quite a bit of tension between the two at the table. Nahive said something about Q not inheriting his fortune because of his ‘habits’ or something, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Again, I will tell you only the obvious,” snapped Marzia. She let out a small, aching sigh as she looked away from me before continuing in a quiet tone of voice. “He is a hedonist.” Marzia sat down, allowing a lock of her hair to drape down her face. “He drinks far more than is healthy for him, and he ‘mingles’ with mares - possibly even stallions - every time he trots into town. His callousness has been bordering on downright recklessness as of late, and I can’t help but feel worried for him.”

I sat there and ingested the influx of information that was being injected into my inquiring ichor. “Nothing truly matters to him more than what is going on at present, which is likely why he took such a splendid interest in you. Whenever we speak, he speaks almost entirely of you, even more so than the young Elten mare he is so fond of…” Marzia blew the lock of hair out of her face bitterly.

“Well,” I began, “it’s not often that you run into something like me here, I’d assume.”
Standing back up, Marzia looked back to me with a tender gaze before again moving. “That is very true, Ladarion. It is not everyday that somepony happens upon a creature of your disposition.”

When we had finally reached the stairs, Marzia and I found Queseque and two of his guards waiting near the door, but something was just a bit off about him that I couldn’t quite put a finger on…

“It is good to see you are well, Ladarion.” He greeted. He then approached the two of us and, with practiced ease, took Marzia’s hoof into his own and placed a grateful peck upon her, looking her in the eyes the entire time. “Thank you for delivering him in good health, querido. My appreciation is infinite.” He looked back to me with a smile as a red-faced Cocoa trotted out of the room at a swift pace.

“Yo, are you… are you actually wearing clothes?” I asked, identifying the oddity. “I thought you was the type that roamed around naked all the time.” I appraisingly glanced over his white-collared dress shirt and his blue vest, both articles brought together by the classy maroon tie around his neck. Of course, this being the laid-back Queseque, the dress shirt’s top button was unsecured, his sleeves were rolled up, and the tie was rather loose, giving him the appearance of a horse-shaped fratboy. The golden watch on his fetlock cemented that thought into my mind.

Q chuckled at that - the sound deep and honeyed, with a mischievous hint that betrayed a great hidden intelligence - as he adjusted his tie. With his signature winning smile, he spoke. “You are correct, Ladarion. I like to think of myself as a free spirit, unrestrained by the boundaries of clothing as often as possible.” He then sat and motioned to his attire. “This, however, is for special occasions.” Placing his hooves back on the ground, he looked up to me expectantly.

“So, uh, what special occasion would this be exactly?” I questioned, looking from him to the guards.

“Why, we are going to consummate our friendship, of course!” he responded enthusiastically, throwing his hooves into the air with childlike glee.

“How so?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“We are going out for a night on the town, mi amigo!”

“You’re really hyped for this, ain’tcha?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got you to hang out with, L.”

I placed a finger to my chin. “Well, I can think of a reason. The main one being that there are dozens of those damned soldiers in town! Not to even mention how you yourself have stated that the Eltens hate you and your family with a burning passion. How are we even supposed to enjoy ourselves if we’re constantly being harassed by a family of fallen hicks or a group of thugs in the guise of a privatized military escort?”

I thought of my explanation as sound, but that did nothing to diminish that confident smile on L’s face. “Why else do you think these two are here?” he asked as he nodded to the statuelike guards flanking him. I didn’t respond to that one, allowing the obvious question to linger in the air. “So you are wondering how a measly two guards are going to defend us against what you’ve described as a town full of psychopaths and deviants?” I nodded. “Well, that’s it! We are not going to need them for protection so much as we will to make a statement.”

“And what would that statement be?” I asked, raising a brow at the pony.

“'We will wreck your shit if you dare approach us with hostile intent!'” That didn’t fill me with any confidence at all. “Oh, and it is primarily a symbol of Blanca influence and might. I, myself, represent the influence of my family. The guards represent our might. And with you under my wing,” he said, trotting next to me and motioning for me to kneel next to him before he placed a wing and a foreleg around my neck, throwing his free hoof toward the city beyond the door in a large sweeping motion, “we will dominate Sauna Pai.”

“Well, that sounds ominous,” I deadpanned, wedging his extremities loose from me before standing back to my full height so as to look down to the silly little pony. When he looked up to me, confidence never wavering, I found it in myself to trust him despite the fact that I knew I was making an idiotic decision. Suddenly, I felt it necessary to give him a pat on the head before speaking. “But if you got faith in this little shindig of yours, then I guess I do too. You ain’t done nothing to me just yet to make me question your intentions, so I’ll try my best to enjoy myself.”

The surprised expression that had appeared on Q’s face after I petted him morphed into unadulterated excitement yet again as he heard that from me. “That’s the spirit, L! Now,” he turned to the guards, “this is Sergeant Dust Petal.” He pointed to the mare that had a coat of darker red than even Mr. Blanca, which contrasted quite heavily from the silverish-blue armor covering her mid-section and hooves, and an open-face helmet that pressed down her snow white hair while still allowing her ears to poke out through the sides. Her weapon of choice seemed to be a pike that stood about three heads higher than her.

Stepping forward, Dust Petal lifted an armored hoof toward me. “Sgt. Dust Petal, sir. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Surprised by the lack of surprise or fear on her features - I’d gotten used to at least something of a reaction, excluding the Blanca parents and Marzia - I stared dumbly for a moment before remembering that she had her hoof offered to me. Placing my hand around it, she shook it up and down feverishly as she made an excited sound. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! He’s shaking my hoof! See, Flash, see! A real life alien is touching me!” A grin that put Cheshire Cat’s to shame set up shop on the deranged pony’s visage before she realized that she was tossing me around like a wet rag. “Oh, sorry!” She finally stopped shaking her hoof, allowing my battered form to finally find purchase with the cold, hard floor.

Dust Petal gave a sheepish grin as she attempted to help me up. Holding up a hand to stall her advance, I sat there for a moment face-down as I added yet another near-death experience to my growing list. Dust Petal gave a nervous chuckle, giving yet another rushed apology as she fell back to the side of the next guard.

When I moved to my knees, I saw a still-smiling Q looking down at me. “I forgot to mention that she gets… enthusiastic when she meets new people.”

“I’m never going to wash this armor again,” I heard her whisper as she stared intently at her fetlock with her dazzling, disc-sized green eyes.

I all of a sudden felt most of my confidence in Q’s plan dissolve.

“And allow me to introduce Captain Flash Sentry. I believe you two have already met.”

The stallion next to Dust Petal moved forward, offering a hoof of his own. “Hardly,” he said in response to Q’s statement. I looked warily at Sentry’s appendage, not finding it difficult to recall what had happened mere moments ago when I had taken the same offer. The peach-colored pony gave me an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, sir. I won’t toss you around like a ragdoll. It’s not like I even have the strength to do so even if I’d wanted to, after all.” I gulped as I reached out to wrap my hand around his hoof. Surprisingly, though he led the shake, I found I wasn’t being whipped around again like a rubber chicken.

When we broke the hand-hoofshake, I stood back up to get off of my sore knees and to put less stress on my bruised pride. The Captain walked back to stand next to Dust Petal.

“Though they’re quite animated,” said Q, “so are their military records. Both were once a part of Celestia’s Solar Guard, with an outstanding sense of duty and leading capabilities on Captain Flash Sentry’s side and unmatched fighting prowess and first-response accounts on Sergeant Dust Petal’s side.”

“Wait, Celestia’s that princess that everybody keeps on talking about, right?”

“Well, she’s one of them,” said Sentry. “Equestria’s ruled by a diarchy composed of both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Y’all are ruled by lesbians? How’s the royal family supposed to extend past them if that’s the case?”
Q even jumped in. “And aren’t there two more princesses after that? One had her wedding crashed by Changelings, and the other fought the magic-stealing Tirek, right?”

Flash slapped a hoof to his forehead, producing a hilarious ringing sound that he chose to ignore. “To your question, Ladarion, no, the Princesses are not lesbians. I think. They’re sisters. One rules the day and the other rules the night.” He then turned to Queseque. “And to answer your question, sir, I simply keep forgetting about those two, in all honesty. But yes, there actually are two more princesses, I just continue to fail to recognize them as such. So that makes four princesses, which makes Equestria a… quadrarchy? Or is it a tetrarchy?”

“...That makes no sense,” I said.

“Sometimes I think the same,” he agreed, shrugging.

“So, if you two were a part of the guard of an actual princess who allegedly rules the day, which I’m guessing means by extension the sun - which I ain’t even gonna bother arguing over at this point in time - what would make you want to leave her security force?”

Flash opened his mouth, only to have Dust Petal pipe up in his place. “We were kicked out!” she shouted, smiling that impossible smile all the while.

Sighing, Flash nodded his head. “Yeah. That.”

“What for?” I asked, wondering what I could find out about the princess’s guard, and her as a result.

“Well… I was kicked out for not meeting mental health standards.” Her smile grew wider with that, the expression doing nothing to comfort me in having her serve as one of my escorts. “They say shaking the hooves of everyone you meet and following them home is weird and can be a criminal offence. I have more restraining orders on me in Canterlot than there are nobles in Celestia’s court.” With that, she proudly placed her hoof to her breastplate as though that was an accomplishment worth gloating over.

“I went on a trip to that place once with my father when I was fifteen. This mare out of the blue approached us and began shaking our hooves with great fervor. Papi almost called the Royal Guard on her before he realized she was a part of the Royal Guard. Despite the security we had, she still had the gall to talk to us as though we’d all known one another since we were toddlers. When we found out she was without a job months later, we sent her an invitation to join the Blanca Security Force.”

“They’ve even taught me about this concept known as ‘personal space’. It really helps with keeping all of my restraining orders in Canterlot and Canterlot alone.”

I looked to Flash in anticipation for his story. Sighing, he scraped a hoof against the ground. “Where to begin…?” he whispered, before halting his motions and looking me in the eyes. “Do you want the long, unnecessarily detailed version or the short, to the point version?”

“I’ll go with the latter, if you don’t mind.”

“I was caught having an affair with Fleur de Lis.” Before I could ask who that was, he moved to answer the question. “She’s a model. Oftentimes considered the hottest model in Canterlot, possibly even Equestria as a whole. She’s held that title in fashion magazines and the like for well over twenty years.” His eyes glazed over for a few seconds. “She holds beauty unparalleled by anypony but the princesses themselves. The most angelic form you’ll ever see in a mare. And she’s surprisingly intelligent, too, which is what I really liked about her. A hot mare and a calculating mind, all wrapped in one delicious package that’s sure leave both stallions and mares drooling...” He hemmed when he found himself near-salivating before tapping his hoof erratically against the floor.

"So, uh, yeah. In short, I was in a relationship with one of the four princesses, yet I was dumb enough to partake in the tempting fruits of Canterlot. To avoid a large scandal, I was booted from the Royal Guard by her brother, who happened to be the Guard’s captain, a decision which was unanimously supported by the princesses, one of whom was this particular princess’s mentor, another who was saved by her and thereby indebted to her, and the last her babysitter, childhood friend, and wife of the Captain of the Royal Guard.”

“That wasn’t a short synopsis at all,” I said. “And that deal with the princesses sounds like a clusterfuck of epic proportions.”

“Oh, it was. Couldn’t show my face in Canterlot for fear that I’d be targeted by some of the more conservative groups who believe ponies that cheat in a relationship should be quote on quote ‘unsheathed’, if you catch my meaning.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, aside from Dust Petal’s, who had instead went back to inspecting her armored hoof. “‘Unsheathed’!?” Q asked, completely appalled.

Flash shrugged, allowing a nervous chuckle to escape his maw. “Well, yes, sir. They take tradition, particularly that in royal courtship, very very seriously. I’ve got a scar to prove it, too.” He pulled his breastplate down, allowing us to see a long, vertical slash on his chest. “The unicorn doctors of Canterlot didn’t want to use magic to help. They said they already had to ration their use of it, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have helped me with it. Still, they couldn’t let a patient die on their doorstep, so they brought me in and cauterized the wound.”

“Damn!” I said, Q releasing a soft, sympathetic hiss as he reached for his chest.

“That’s an understatement. It hurt like hell. I have a second one, but it wouldn’t be appropriate or professional to show it to you guys. Let me just tell you that when I was attacked, it was late at night and they… got a bit closer to the bull’s eye.”

“Dios mío!” said Q, hoof going down to cover his crotch. “What would I do without my Queseques!?”

“Yeah, what he sa-” I started. “Wait, your ‘Queseques’? The fuck?”

Q looked back to me and Flash, sputtering before looking down to the floor in embarrassment. “Um, uh… Ouch. I meant to say ‘Ouch’.”

“Ah, no need to worry, they just got me in the stomach. Well, the lower stomach to be exact. Like I said, it was pretty close to the bull’s eye. I managed to fight whoever they were off, and investigations were made for both cases, but charges can’t be pressed and crimes can’t be filed against what equates to ghosts.”

“So, uh, how’d you, y’know, get the wound closed this time?” I asked.

“Two words. Heated. Poker.”

At that, Q spoke, seeming to have recovered from his embarrassment. “I am sure we all get a bit heated when we play poker, Captain. I have had to pay for two tables at two of our very own casinos. But what does that have to do with your wound?”
The moment Flash raised a brow in a manner that said ‘Really?’, Q seemed to actually get what was being implied. “T-that’s just flat out insane!” Shouted the crazy pony.

“I was nearly killed at the doctor’s for what should have been a simple procedure on my chest. They caused more damage than my attacker had by cauterizing me and refused to even give me aid when I was bleeding in front of them. So I simply did the job myself, as crude and painful as it was. I just consumed a lot of alcohol before doing so.”

“That’s… frankly that’s horrific,” My eyes couldn’t go any wider. “Least you know you still had the balls to do it, am I right?” Surprisingly, Flash chuckled at that. Finally, someone with a sense of humor similar to my own! “Anyway, why didn’t you sue the hospital or the doctor charged with your care?”

“Oh I tried. The courts wouldn’t hear the case as soon as they heard my name, though, with most of them being nobles and by extension the more conservative sort. In their minds, I deserved every bit of pain and suffering I’d endured and then some. There was no justice for me in Canterlot.”

“Damn, man. That’s… what about the princesses? Despite you falling out of their favor, they had to have listened to your grievances, right? They had to have seen the documents for the lawsuit, not to mention the story of you being attacked in some news article?”

“I’m a bit skeptical, in all honesty. Those newspapers are run by those same nobles, unfortunately. And those same nobles are the ears and eyes of the princesses when they’re too busy running the country to be bothered worrying about what’s going on inside of it, which has been growing increasingly common as the years have passed. This whole ‘protecting the world by draining it of what keeps it flourishing’ plan doesn’t seem to be very effective, and that’s ignoring the fact that it’s completely self-contradicting.”

“Good thing I don’t need no magic to live, then.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Flash as he gave me a look one would give to someone who decided to wear their pants on their head. “Everything on Equus lives on magic. And even I, a Pegasus, can feel the magic coursing through your veins. That says a lot. The only thing off about you despite your appearance is the fact that the magic within you seems… artificial in a way. Usually beings are composed of it, they don’t simply have it inside of them. Least that’s what my Magic course taught me in school.”

I gave him a hard stare at that, one that he coolly returned. “...Bullshit.” That’s about all I could say as I felt a familiar warmth stirring inside of me.

“If that’s what you think, then that’s your prerogative.”

As I thought of the disturbing implications of what Flash said, I was torn away from coming to a conclusion as to how I felt about these implications when Q once again cut into the conversation. “Guys, chill. This is a night about eliminating stress, not generating more. We’ve already burned enough of the daylight becoming such great friends, so c’mon, let’s go out and enjoy ourselves!”

“Sir, yes sir!” Flash and Dust Petal both said simultaneously, placing their hooves to their foreheads. With that, Q led the two guards outside as he held the door open for them, showing the sun outside falling slowly toward the earth, angled to descend behind the extensive Everfree Forest.

I stood there in front of the door, overlooking the vast brown of the desert that was cut off by the encompassing green of the forest as, in the middle of it all, sat the small town of Sauna Pai, with me as an even smaller part of that. As the scale of what little of the world I’d explored hit me, I could feel how insignificant I was in comparison to the largeness of my surroundings. How must these ponies feel if this is the case for me? I wondered. With the breeze that blew inside, the drift carried both the dust across the Blanca’s field along with my previous thoughts, instead allowing me to focus on the interactions, however blurred, I had with Salamsala.

Ahh~. Fear. Pain. Hatred.

I have never felt such a surge of power, such a surge of emotion as I ever have when you arrived.

I still have great need for your services.

I believe we are going to get along quite nicely~.

I then thought to the deal we had made.

If you help me gather my power, I will return you to your home. However, if you want my word for that, you must take my paw so that we may shake on this deal.

“So… it is magic inside of me, then. What’s that mean for me, though?” I asked. This meant that the deal was constantly being altered due to its vagueness. And who was altering it? Salamsala. I was nothing but a pawn for his freedom in the grand scheme of things. That was the deal, after all, wasn’t it?

...Wasn’t it? I’m going to have to check back to the last few entries to make sure I’m remembering things correctly, because whenever I think back on that deal of ours, I feel as though something important was left out, and that it could bite me in the ass later down the line.

And through the fog, I heard a voice echoing. “Hey, Ladarion! Let’s go amigo! Do you want to stay inside the entire time?” And like that I was back, feeling a minor beat thump-thumping against my skull. Rubbing my temple, I thought back to the past few seconds, remembering nothing but a sinister laugh and wading through some kind of mist in the middle of some flooded, isolated land. Nothing to worry overmuch about, right? Yeah, nothing to worry about.

I opened my mouth to speak as the fog cleared, finding no words worth speaking before I blinked the rest away, walking outside to join Queseque and his guards.

“You alright, L?” asked Q. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something, man.”

“Nothing… Nothing to worry about,” I breathed, still following the direction of the sun as it slowly followed its path to the Everfree.

“Qué? Are you sure, Ladarion? I can call this off no problem if you are feeling unwell.”

My eyes snapped to his suddenly, causing him to flinch as I stared intently into his eyes, seeing something… caged contained within his psyche. Something having to do with a wine bottle, a pony dressed in scarlet most brilliant, and three figures whose shapes I could not completely make out. “Nothing to worry about,” I repeated before looking forward as I rubbed my temple yet again. “Just a bit of fog, is all.”

“O...kay? Are you sure you’re doing alright, L? You seem... shellshocked.”

When he approached to tap my leg my whole body tensed before I again turned back to him, this time feeling a bit more in control of myself.

“Y-yeah. I’m alright. It’s nothing to worry about, really. I think a bit of fresh air could do me some good.”

Smiling at him on the outside, I turned back around and started toward the town, ignoring his questions as my mind still felt a bit foggy.

Suddenly, Q didn’t seem so trustworthy. Suddenly, nobody seemed very trustworthy. All I could do as I brushed past Flash and Dust was focus on one thought, something of a warning: It is about time you woke up.

Author's Notes:

Forgive the funky Spanish that appears in the chapter; it's not my native tongue and I took no classes for it in high school.