Well ain’t this a fucking treat? Me and one of the last people on the planet I wanted to see.

In all fairness, though, I didn’t want to see anybody on this planet anymore, but my point still stands. This is all I could think of as a familiar griffon was doing her best to strangle the life out of me. We were getting along well enough, all things considered.

“You won’t hurt me again! Ever! And I’ll make sure you never lay a finger on me for the rest of your damn life!” shrieked Hawkeye as her gloved talons tightened around my airway.

“Get your hands off my throat, bitch! I need that to breathe!”

“And who said I was planning on allowing you to?”

“Ach! I did!” I lifted my chained hands and grasped the enraged catbird’s wrists, twisting them as I lifted a knee to her underbelly. With a great heave and a ho, I sent Hawkeye careening bodily into the side of her bunk, the eaglelion making a pained squawk as her bandaged wing took the brunt of the blow.

Sitting up, I rubbed a hand along my sore neck, coughing. I glared at Hawkeye. “Now stay the hell offa me, and on your side of the room! Crazy fuckin’ bird…”

As Hawkeye gingerly picked herself up from the floor, she glanced at me, and through the pain and hatred, I could see a faint flash of something else… something primal. But then again, I could have just been seeing things. My mind was a just a tad bit clouded with everything as of late.

“W- what are you doing here? Of all places you could have ended up, it just had to be here, didn’t it?” she asked, her good wing twitching.

“I’m on the same boat as you, lying in some dank cell with someone I thoroughly dislike as company instead of, y’know, kicking back and relaxing on the beach or somewhere that isn’t here,” I said as I pulled my aching form onto my bunk. Say what you will about Hawkeye, but I’d be a dirty liar if I said she wasn’t fast or fearsome in a fight. Even with a broken wing and whatever abuse these slavedrivers had shown her since her capture.

“I’m in no mood for jokes, ape.” There was a cold edge to her tone that betrayed danger. It’s a good thing me and danger had become best pals, then, otherwise I would have been a lot more intimidated.

“Neither am I, Hawkeye. After all the shit you and everyone else I’ve run into put me through, I’m surprised I have an errant wisp of humor within me at all. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I’d be on the road, closer to home!”

“You’re saying this is my fault!?” The gryphon grit her teeth in anger. “You turned the Saddle Arabians on my crew; you got me captured; you broke my wing out of spite. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be out of this cell with Tony and Barney!”

A savage smirk wormed its way across my face. “And where do you think they are now, huh? Hatching some plot to save your sorry tail from the clutches of these assholes?”

Hawkeye straightened up. “Of course! We’re a team; we don’t leave each other behind. You wouldn’t know much about that, though, would you?”

Just how stupid is everything on this planet? “You think they gonna bail you out of this? I doubt that. From what I’ve heard, these swan-necked idgets have an army at their disposal devoted entirely to this slave trade they’ve disguised as a means of establishing a friendly connection with this country. You think your ‘friends’ are foolish enough to risk their necks to save yours, especially against those odds? What would it accomplish if they ended up getting captured too, because that’s what would happen.” Silence was my answer. “That’s right. Nothin’. People in your business don’t take unnecessary risks, not even for companions.

“At the end of the day, they get a bigger cut and maybe they mourn your loss for a bit before they eventually replace you. But that’s just my take on things. What I see is this, Hawkeye: I’m all you got. You’re all I’ve got. We can put aside our differences and wait for the perfect opportunity to get ourselves out of here, or they can just torture your ass for however long is necessary, because you’re the one who’s part of the three-man crew that hightailed it out of a deal with them with their dosh. That gives them reason enough to believe you know the whereabouts of the rest. The choice is yours.”

Hawkeye’s eyes furrowed as she looked away, the gears in her head spinning as she absorbed all of that information. “...You’re wrong about them. Don’t even pretend to know about us. They’ll get me out of this, one way or another. That I know. So you can stop trying to play your little mind games, creature, because unlike you, I have a way out of this. I refuse to work with something as demented as you.”

Just who does she think she is? My smile sank like the Titanic at her idiocy and her gall to call me the demented one. “Open up your eyes, Birdbeak! Smell the dust, feel the cold concrete underfoot, and pull your head out of your ass! You’re delusional if you think those punks are coming back to get you. They’re not! Hanging your hopes on them will bring you nothing but disappointment and despair. Now, back to reality, we can both get out of here much more quickly if we put our minds together and create a plan of escape.”

Hawkeye narrowed her hawk eyes, her good wing stretching out to its full length as she got into a pouncing stance. “Insult them one more time. I dare you.”

I stood up, preparing myself for another fight. “You and your friends are fools. Quite ironic that someone venerated for their keen eyesight is so blind to such a simple fact.” I hardly got the chance to finish my sentence before a flurry of feathers and talons slammed into me, knocking me off my feet and into the side of the bunk. I grunted in pain as my head was thrown into the hard floor, the griffon, strength restored by fury, relentlessly wailing on me. I lifted my forearms to protect my throat and my eyes.

Fortunately for me, I was saved from more of a beating when a pair of guards rushed to the room at the sound of the commotion. The pair opened up the cell door and one tackled the griffon off of me. Before I could thank them properly, a hoof crashed into my side, leaving me wheezing.

Yup. That’s a broken rib right there. I was hoping it would only bruise, but I definitely felt something lightly crack upon impact. I fought to regain my breath as the red-garbed ponies dragged a still-flailing Hawkeye out of the room, my poor, abused diaphragm paining me every time it expanded. I should stop tempting fate. Maybe one day it’ll actually get me killed.

Pulling myself to my feet ever so slowly, I fell right back down to my knees as the pain in my side spiked. I clutched my newest reminder for why I hated my existence as I coughed harshly, taking shallow breaths. A loud ringing that deafened me from the retreating sounds of the griffon’s panicked squawking filled my ears. I don’t think he knows how hard he hit me. With my luck, he probably did. The sadistic fuck.

I sluggishly crawled my way over to the nearest bunk, painstakingly dragging myself onto it. I took special care in keeping my injured side from coming into contact with the hard mattress.

I’m trapped. This place is a madhouse, and I’m trapped in it with no help. I looked up to the ceiling as my wheezing gave way to shuddering gasps. In my condition, I wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. That meant a halt had to be put on my plan to simply force my way out of here at the first opening in order to trek to wherever Argothra Falls and Daring were. It would’ve done me some good if I, for once in my life, just kept my trap shut. Then I wouldn’t be fighting for air. These thoughts hang heavily in my mind as I closed my eyes.

Try as I might, though, sleep wouldn’t come to me that night.

At some point the next morning, I was shaken from my fragile slumber by the rattling of keys. The pain had given me quite the headache through the night, and the incessant jangling afforded no reprieve from it whatsoever. After a moment, I was fairly certain the pony on the other side was just messing with the keys to annoy me. I would have called him out on it, but the pang of hurt that travelled up to my jaw and down to my knee allowed only a groan to escape my lips, reminding me how my mouth resulted in my great discomfort in the first place.

Eventually, the tool got the door open, and something was unceremoniously tossed inside. The door was locked shut yet again, and the voices of the guards soon faded into the distance. My head rotated to regard whatever was mewling on the ground, eyes widening in surprise to find that it was Hawkeye.

I don’t know what was done to her, what with there being no visible marks or anything of the sort adorning her body, but to find her in such a way where she was quietly sobbing and making no effort to preserve her dignity or get up off the floor left me perturbed.

A grunt freed itself from the confines of my throat as I carefully lifted myself from the uncomfortable mattress, a few of my joints popping as I did so. One of Hawkeye’s long ears straightened as the noise reached her, the griffon quieting herself down to where she only allowed a few small sniffles.

I stared for a long while. It was strange, seeing such a prideful creature meet with such woe. Maybe she finally understands how I felt when I was in her position. The thought came unbidden as I shifted in my seat, my shoes hitting the concrete. No, I don’t know what it is, but I don’t see a tormenter… I picked myself up off of the bed and slowly approached the fallen griffon. Not a thug, not a captor, not even a rival. I stood over her, descending with no small amount of difficulty into a kneeling position. I… I see—

“What?” Hawkeye asked. “You here to rub it in, this humiliation I feel?”

What came next was something that surprised even myself. I should have felt nothing but satisfaction from seeing her broken. I should have been whispering ‘I told you so’ in her ear to drive my point from the previous day home. Instead, I found myself wrapping an arm around her to comfort her. Why? That’s the question I kept asking myself as her breath hitched in her throat, clearly caught off guard by the action. She was probably wondering the same thing. As her sobbing once again returned, she leaned into my unbruised side. I thought. I thought on that question that the two of us were no doubt asking.

All I know is my answer would have been as good as hers, or anybody’s for that matter.

Some time later found Hawkeye asleep by my side on the floor. I wanted to leave her there and return to my uncomfortable bed, but the dull pain in my ribs kept me from following through with that. So instead, I opted to simply allow the birdie her peace (peace being a relative term in this instance) while I tried to gather my thoughts.

Would her pals actually pull through and be stupid enough to try to save her? In that event, if the scuffle wasn’t too short-lived, I could use the distraction to scramble off to someplace with less slave trading. There would be no telling how long I would survive the Soranora with nary a drop of water at my side and a broken ribcage, but that option beat these conditions any time.

Would she get her wits about her and realize that our best chance at freedom was working together, even if such a relationship would be strained at best and outright disastrous at worst? Well, the least we would get done is waiting around for too long and miss seizing our opportunity at escape. The most we would get done at that juncture, though, was one abandoning the other at the first chance to leave them to their fate with the Saddle Arabians, one abandoning the other should the two of us escape to leave them to their fate with the desert, or the both of us sticking together until we could rendezvous with Daring Do. Of course, that last, overly optimistic outcome would require the two of us sharing what would already be likely limited resources and putting up with one another without killing each other, but it was still at the very least feasible.

More feasible than Tony and Barney risking their cuts and their heads over breaking Hawkeye out, at least.

So no matter what, I couldn’t see myself getting out of this situation without allying with Hawkeye in some way… Shit. Why couldn’t whatever malevolent deity that sent me here just toss me a bone every once in awhile? I mean, I know I’m insanely fortunate to be alive, but I’d still like a stroke of luck that doesn’t carry with it the promise of more hurt down the road. C’est la vie and all that noise, I guess.

Little did I know, one of the few prayers I’ve ever called for would be answered.

My train of thought was derailed by yet another jangling of keys. Someone on the other side swore in that harsh tongue the Saddle Arabians normally speak in before, after a moment of deliberation, the right key was selected to allow for the door to be opened up.

Eyes snapping into focus from their place on some corner of the room, I felt a great apprehension rise in my chest as the Saddle Arabian strolled into the room, his buddy waiting outside. “My appreciation, Dehro. Now, would you mind keeping watch for me? Warn me if any other guards make their way down this hall.”

Dehro nodded his understanding as he stood his post, head on a swivel as he scanned the halls for others.

Now, by this point, I was understandably confused. What did this guy want with Hawkeye and I to warrant being cautious of other guards? Why did he seem so… familiar? Was it just too much to ask to just have a normal day in a prison cell?

“What do you want?” I demanded. It wasn’t so intimidating, I’d guess, with me being hardly able to get up and the wheezing, but I made up for it with a glare that could punch a hole through steel. “Ain’t too much I can offer to you guys outside of thinly veiled threats and the charm of a porcupine.”

To my disdain, he gave a soft chuckle in response. “Oh, the question isn’t about what I want, eh, Ladarion is it?” At my nod, he continued. “The question is what do you want.”

“To be honest, I just want some time to myself. You horses have already caused me enough harm, so I’d appreciate it if you got out.”

“I will leave you be in a moment. But first I must ask: how does freedom sound to you?”

“Like something too good to be true. Now get to the point.”

The guard smiled at that. “You truly are interesting, Ladarion. As you know, I go by the name Arib—”

“Wait, then that makes you that bastard that helped put me in here!” I exclaimed as I made to stand, the movement and the commotion causing Hawkeye to stir. No sooner than I had moved did I fall right back down, my ribs reminding me that they were still indeed broken.

Arib had backed up at my thunderous display before raising a brow at my inability to actually move. “You are hurt,” he observed.

“Not hurt enough to keep me from taking the first chance I get to wring your neck, pony.” I retorted, grabbing my side as I set my jaw.

Raising a hoof in what seemed to be a placating gesture, Arib took a step closer to me. “You’ve no reason to trust me, that much I know. But whatever is ailing you must be treated. Soon. There is no way you can survive the trek to Daring Do in the condition you are in.”

Now that got my attention. I went silent at the mention of the adventuring pony’s name. “I’m listening…”

“Ugh, my everything,” said Hawkeye as she shook her head. “What’s going o—” she turned to me and immediately freaked out, pushing herself away. “WHAT THE TARTARUS!?”

I gave her a withering glare. “Calm your tits, Hawkeye. Nothing happened. Now continue, if you would, Arib.”

The pony cast an amused glance over to the sputtering griffon before looking back to me. “Of course—” he began before Dehro tapped a hoof against the door twice, likely a warning. Arib muttered some foreign expletive, giving me a hard glance. “We do not have as much time as I was hoping for, but I cannot leave you empty-hooved. In three days’ time, we will be a lot closer to a place the Equestrian maps verify as being Argothra Falls. Do you know of it?” At my nod, he continued. “You and your griffon friend here will make your escape with the key I give you at the sound of a diversion. It will not be overly large, and it will leave as quickly as it arrives. In this time, the both of you must be well on your way.

“You will likely have to fight your way out, so be sure to take the opportunity to arm yourselves. How you do so is none of my concern.” Two more taps, both much lighter. “I am taking a large risk doing this. Do ensure my efforts weren’t for naught, will you?” With that, Arib began moving to the door.

“Wait!” Hawkeye interjected. Arib gave her an impatient look. “What do you get out of us escaping?”

He smiled, walking out of the room. “A favor.” The door locked behind him, and the hasty hoofsteps of him and his partner soon disappeared.

I noticed something on the floor. Reaching down, I picked it up to confirm that it wa the key Arib had mentioned giving us. Relief washed over me as I drew in a deep breath, slowly standing to make my way back to my bunk.

Hawkeye furrowed her brows at the pony’s answer as I pocketed the key before finally shrugging. “Well, so long as I get out of here in the end, I could care less what his motives are. And you!” she pointed at me from her bunk, glaring death at the side of my head.

I sighed, preparing for more conflict. “What is it?”

She didn’t reply for a moment, and as I glanced over to her I could see that she seemed to be contemplating whether or not she should bring something up. In the end, she huffed, suddenly finding a corner of the room much more interesting. “Forget it. We should focus on getting out of here first, then we can worry about what happened.”

If we get out of here, you mean. “Whatever. Just get yourself some proper rest. I doubt the floor is all that comfortable.”

“These bunks are hardly any different,” she murmured.

Yawning, I stretched to the best of my ability, the pangs still reverberating across my midsection persuading me not to overexert myself. “Them’s the breaks. I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse.”

Her attention shifted back to me. “Ladarion. So that’s your name, right?” The surprise I felt was evident on my face, judging from her small smirk. “I heard that guard call you by it when he trotted in. It’s… unusual. I may still call you ape, though, for the sake of being concise.”

“Are you… was that an actual joke and not a death threat?” I asked.

And like that, her smirk fell. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Like you said, it’s best we work together on this. But the moment we’re out of this place…” she left the sentence open to interpretation.

“Yeah, I’d expect nothing less.”

Here we were, finally with a common ground to stand on. Hawkeye and I realized we were better off helping one another; there was a spanner in the works aiding us in our escape from the Saddle Arabian operation; and Daring was waiting on us.

So many little blessings. It felt as though everything was finally going perfectly. Too perfectly. That may have been why it felt as though something would go horribly wrong.

It was with no small amount of difficulty that I found myself once again restlessly shifting about on my bed. Between being captured and locked up in a room with someone that was as likely to help me as she was to slit my throat in my sleep, the ebbing pain piercing my side, and the burning sensation in my hand that scorched my thoughts, I was a proper wreck.

Let’s not even mention the added effect of the disturbing memory of Queseque’s betrayal that branded my subconscious and probably would until the day I stopped breathing.

“None can be trusted,” a distorted voice whispered. I found no reason not to agree. Here I lied, body bruised, conscience addled, and pride stripped from me as I was bound to this world’s machinations. What did I ever do to deserve thi—?

“Hey, are you awake, you shaved ape?” I sighed. One thing I hate more than anything, and this is even before I was chucked into the plundered land of pony hicks, is being interrupted mid-tho—. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. I’ve got something I want to discuss with you, something about our current predicament. It’ll just take a sec, I promise.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Ladarion. This pony—Arib, I think he called himself—he’s a part of the Saddle Arabians’ snatch and grab operation based here in southern Equestria. What makes you think we can trust him or his ilk?”

You know, as far as I’m concerned, you’re of his ilk. “Nothing. Call me disenchanted or cynical, but I see very little going in my—our—favor. Still, give some thought. What has he to gain from the release of two ultimately powerless individuals such as you and I? Fame? Doubtfully. Fortune? Perhaps. A favor? Yes. From whom, we can both guess,” obviously something to do with Daring Do, “but at the moment, let’s mull over what the favor would be.

“You see, with my amazing theoretical skills and the intelligence to boot—“ Hawkeye snorted at that, “—I’m guessing it would have something to do with something less materialistic. Maybe he’s trying to achieve some form of enlightenment with the aid of whoever he’s plotting with. Maybe he’s an undercover double agent and visionary who sees the wrongs of this trade, yet, knowing how deep he is in it, wants for word to be spread of it so that it cripples Saddle Arabia’s reputation with other nations, dissolves the trade, and allows him to seek asylum elsewhere in the unlikely case that he’s compromised. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s fuckin’ with us and was sent here by his higher ups to keep tabs on what are possibly the two most volatile, violent, and vindictive prisoners they have locked up to make sure we’re not planning on causing too much trouble for the caravan in the near future.” I took a moment of thought, the Hercule Poirot in me finally silencing himself. “My money’s on the first.” I always did agree with the doctrine of Buddhism. I mean, it didn’t stop me from being a vain, petty jerk with a bit of a sociopathic and hedonistic streak, but I regardless respected the wise words the text held within.

The room was silent for a full minute after I got through rambling on about that mumbo-jumbo. I was just about to try to fall back into my uneasy reverie before Hawkeye spoke up. “T-that… makes a disturbing amount of sense.”

“What, Arib wanting to take the path of enlightenment?” I asked, letting a small, trollish smile grace my lips.

“No, you moron, the part where you said the guy’s trying his luck with ‘the two most volatile, violent, and vindictive prisoners they have locked up’.”

“You know that was the third hypothesis, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but think about it. Who better to take down the growing Saddle Arabian operation than the beautiful, graceful Hawkeye and her brutish, antagonistic sidekick?”

Bitch, you weren’t beautiful or graceful when I was beatin’ that ass. To be fair, though, she had a point: I was rather brutish and antagonistic during our little ‘disagreement’, so I couldn’t rightfully refute her without making an ass of myself. “Sidekick? Ain’t that what I gave you back at that factory?”

If looks could kill, then, well, I’d be as much of a mess on the outside as I was on the inside. I focused just enough to catch the end of what she was saying. “—you sadistic, single-minded pile of horse shi—,” and I again tuned her out. When I came back down to earth, I opened an eye and looked at the fuming griffon as she took heavy, controlled breaths, likely trying to calm herself.

“You done, featherhead?”

“I’m trying to keep myself from beating your conceited face in with one of your forearms. But other than that, yes. Just peachy.”

“Beautiful. Now, back on topic, what makes you think that guy’s actually a good fella? I mean, a slaver’s a slaver in my books. None of ‘em deserve any kind of respect or trust in my books.”

“You say that as though you have some in-depth knowledge of it.” Oh, honey, the tales I could tell you about the olden days of… well, basically anywhere on Earth. “To be frank, I don’t truly care about destroying the Saddle Arabian network, not that two people could realistically do that anyways with nothing but whispers and rumors. Besides, that would mean more time dealing with the likes of you.”

Hold up just a cherry-pickin’ second! “Wait, are you implying that you’d prefer the company of traffickers over me? You sayin’ I’m worse than a fucking person who deals flesh for gold!?”

Hawkeye coolly regarded her talons, brushing them on her coat before holding her forearm out in front of her. “Well, I despise both you and them, but they aren’t the ones who crippled me. With you, it’s personal.”

Now it was my turn to be pissed. “More personal than the dune-kicking bastards who want to sell a life they have no right to call theirs? The bastards that are a lot like you?”

And the hate-ball landed right back in her court. She flinched as if struck, her icy façade melting away as the flames of anger rose in her heart, kindling her ire. “You… you…! You vulgar, mouth-breathing, idiotic fool!”

“Good for nothin’, hollow-skulled, unstable reprobate!”

“Two-faced, conniving, emotionless swine!”

“Whiny, big-mouthed, shameless harlot!”

“Insufferable sadist!”

“Hypocritical coward!”

“Ape!”

“Bird!”

At some point we had both gotten out of our bunks and into each others’ faces, fiercely staring one another down with intensity rivaling that of your mom’s ass. After a few minutes of huffing and puffing, I spoke.

“Go ‘head. Swing first. I dare you. I double dare you, Featherbrain.”

“No guards are gonna save you this time, Bananaboy.”

So there we stood, still staring at one another. One hour, two hours, three days, 4 weeks! That’s how long we stood there, both too proud to break eye contact, even as we wasted away. Or at least, that’s how long it felt like we were staring at each other.

Eventually, I blinked.

Hawkeye had a victorious smirk on her beak at that, to which I retaliated with a dark glare. Waving me off, she said “Pheh, not even worth anymore of my time.”

“Oh yeah, well… your face,” I lamely responded, heading back to my side of the room. As I sat back down, I noticed the warmth in my hand had deteriorated rather a lot, my chest lightly glowing as I felt a bit of the pain in my side disappear. I looked down into my hand to find the red stone (I still didn’t know how it kept getting there) resting snug in my palm. Hm…

“That comeback was awful, Ladarion.”

“Oh yeah, well… your face,” came the reply again.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes at that, failing to adopt an annoyed expression as her beak lightly curved into something resembling a grin. I might have been imagining things, though. “One of these days, Ladarion.”

I furrowed my brows at that. “So with that out of the way, what do you think of Arib?”

“He’s about as good as the lot ‘em, like you said. Still, he’s our best bet at this point. I mean, what kind of guard meant to keep tabs on us gives us a plan and then a method of escape? Too many conveniences to be accidental, so I’m willing to bet he actually wants to help. For whatever confounded reason…” The last part was muttered below her breath.

“What happened to Tony and Barney coming to your rescue?”

Hawkeye lied on her bunk in a sphinxlike position, making herself as comfortable as she could on the lumpy mattress. “You’re still completely, unequivocally dead wrong about everything you’ve said about them, but with Barney at the head, those two will be waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Something that could take a couple of days or a couple of weeks. I’d rather not be here for a couple of weeks.”

Placing more faith in the guard who’s part of the guys who tried screwing you and yours over in a deal than your own allies? Ouch. I’m beginning to think the end of days is upon us. Just kidding, I already knew the end of days was upon us. Pushing the queer thought out of mind, I replied. “You sure can say that again, Hawkeye. I’d rather stick to being free and maybe dying as opposed to staying in here and making death inescapable.”

“Ditto.”

Sensing a lull in the conversation, and noticing that the tension that was usually permeating the air in the room had been dispelled, I tried what little of my luck remained. “So, uh, yo Hawkeye?”

“Hm?”

“This may sound strange, but I been wondering something.”

“Go on, then. Ask away. Not like there’s much else to do in this accursed cell.”

“Is Hawkeye your real name?

Her ears perked up at that. “What?”

“Hawkeye. That’s your real name? You know, the one bestowed upon you by your mommy and your daddy?” Or your daddy and your daddy. Or your mommy and your mommy. Or your—

“No.”

“No to what? The mom and dad thing?”

She facewhatevered. “I like it better when we’re yelling at each other. At least then you don’t have much of a chance to act even more dense than you usually do.”

I shrugged before I was reminded of something of grave importance. My eyes bulged out of my head as I jumped up off the bed like my ass was on fire, my hands patting and searching every pocket I had in a desperate attempt to reclaim what was mine. The display put Hawkeye ill at ease.

“What the Tartarus is going on with you? “

“I know it has to be in here somewhere…! Goddammit, where is it!?”

Now she looked less perplexed and more concerned. “This isn’t something that affects me too, is it? I swear, if you lost that damned key, I’ll—!”

“No, this isn’t about the key, dammit! I could’ve sworn I had it in here somewhere…”

As I went back to rifling through my pockets, Hawkeye’s face contorted in confusion, the griffon no less disturbed. “Then what is it? Tell me already!”

And then I finally had it. I pulled out of my pocket…

“Why are you holding out your empty palms to me?”

A shit-eating grin was weaved onto my face. “Oh no, you misunderstand the meaning of this, Hawkeye. Can’t you see? If you look just a bit closer, this is the amount of fucks I give about your opinion of me.” And like that, I dropped the mic, letting the invisible handful of fucks fall not so gracefully to the dust-covered floor. My fingers closed, only the two middle fingers left saluting the bewildered griffon in an epic “Fuck you!” as I made my way back to my bunk.

I never took my eyes off of the winged cat, absorbing every delectable detail of her blue screening face. I really wish my phone still worked, because if I could, I would have snapped a picture of that expression to immortalize it and plastered it on my wall back home. Giving myself a mental high-five, I watched as her face slowly morphed from puzzled to unamused.

“Gotcha, bitch!” I chuckled wholeheartedly at her plight, one of the few actual laughs I’ve had her in the dainty, fun-filled land of Equestria.

Hawkeye huffed, though I could see yet another ghost of a smile on her face. “Idiot… Anyway, the answer to your question is no, Hawkeye is not my real name.”

“Really?” I asked.

“You may have us pegged for a team of losers after our falling out with the Saddle Arabians, but we’re not complete amateurs, Ladarion. We never address each other by name when on the job. You probably noticed this when Sarey—Sarub—Sanjay—,”

“Sarif.”

“—Thanks. You probably noticed this when Sarif, the smug snake, kept calling Barney by the name of Bare Yield. Same as him, we all hide our names to better ensure anonymity.”

“No offense, but two ponies and a griffon is rather hard to miss, I’d assume.”

“It’s not as uncommon for ponies and griffons to intermingle as you’d think. Or at least, that's how it used to be. Some small-minded idiots in an unoriginally named pony hamlet to the north, closer to Canterlot, may have a differing opinion – from what I’ve heard, a hot-blooded pigeon visited the town and gave griffons everywhere a bad image when she ignorantly bullied the bloody Elements of Harmony. Still, almost anywhere with a respectable community that actually is aware of events and peoples outside of its bounds has a small mix of at least two races. Sure, there’s often a majority of ponies over griffons here in Equestria, as surprising as that may sound, but in Gryphonia it’s vice versa. Again, big surprise there.”

Interesting. If I cared about this world, I’d probably go adventuring just to visit these places.

Sometimes I should keep my mind shut, I would soon come to learn. I rested my head on my fist.

“Hm. Doesn’t change the fact that Barney still gave his name to that Sarif guy at the round table.”

“Not his real name, wise guy.”

“What?”

“That wasn’t his real name either. You see, we have something of a story around our names. I’m Hawkeye because I have the eyes of a hawk, Bare Yield got his name from the fact that he likes being ironic and usually gets us more bits than was bargained for, and Tony got his because… well, because he’s Tony.”

“So are you gonna tell me your real name and not a pseudonym?”

“Ha ha, no.”

“C’mon, what do you have to lose.”

“My partnership with Tony and Barney. Duh.”

“Man, that sucks! All that build up to nothin’!”

“Cry me a river.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You probably subsist off the tears of the innocent.”

“If you’re innocent in any aspect, then this world is even more screwed than I originally thought,” she quipped. I began patting at my pockets again, the meaning of the action not going over her head. She glared at me. “Oh, shut up, ya hatchling.”

“Well, excuse me, missy, for trying to keep myself entertained.” Overgrown rodent.

“Whatever,” she replied, contemplating something. Her eyes widened slightly as she rummaged through her feathers for something.

“Hey, HEY! You’re getting my dirty floor even more filthy with all of your molting. Would you kindly go do that two inches in that direction, please?”

Rolling her eyes, Hawkeye pulled out her prize: it was a… a golden coin? My eyes widened in realization as I recalled that this was the golden coin. The one she pilfered from my sack some time past.

“How about we play a game you’re familiar with? Heads or tails?”

That ‘game’ of heads or tails turned into a couple of games. Then, those couple of games turned into more useless conversations. Something about the morality of catching all wildlife and forcing them into ‘battles’ with their fellows for international entertainment, why we shouldn’t allow ourselves to fall prey to the purviews of the conundrums of philosophy when discussing the subtleties of beauty, and the unnecessary length of the latter half of the Frieza arc. No, I’m not making that last one up. Trust me when I say I was just as confused when Hawkeye managed to go on a forty minute rant about just how useless Krillin managed to make himself in basically every confrontation. I didn’t even want to get her started on the presence of Bulma, lest I be in for two hours more of passionate yelling.

It was at that instant that I decided that if I wasn’t on drugs, maybe I should consider them if this was my new reality.

All in all, though, it felt nice being able to simply chat with someone who tried to kill me the day before. It was even better because I wasn’t free of guilt either, which gave us pretty even ground, knowing we shouldn’t trust each other too much. Yet, I, an alien to this land who was feeling more and more estranged each day, managed to desperately grasp onto any semblance of my shattered concept of normalcy like a sinking man would to a life raft.

It almost made me forget that this was the same griffon that had tried giving me over to the Saddle Arabians in the first place and would take the first opportunity to either claw me when I wasn’t looking and leave me to die without supplies in the desert should we escape or simply abandon me at her earliest convenience.

See, I like relationships where everything is laid out from the get-go as opposed to those wherein you think you’ve got a pal, but then the next minute he’s poisoning your drinks, slicing his father’s throat open, blaming you for murder, and then selling you off to slavery.

Yeah. Don’t you just hate it when something like that happens? I know I do.

But I digress, the next surprise of the day came in the exalted form of Sarif. The captain of the red-garbs stepped calmly into our cell, Arib and a random guard in tow. Hawkeye discreetly scooted her way a few inches away from the group. I was occupied by questioning the wisdom of such a decision – that of allowing all sentinels into a confined space, that is – but something told me protocol wouldn’t permit less than two soldiers standing guard outside a cell occupied by security personnel for, y’know, security reasons.

Arib’s little visit the previous day was a special case, I presume, as protocol obviously had to be broken to give him and his buddy time to inform us of an escape plan.

Speaking of Arib, the agent stood straight-faced as he followed Sarif; however, upon closer scrutiny, the pony radiated the tiniest sliver of anxiety. It was almost unnoticeable, though.

Sarif approached us, or rather me, an appraising eye holding within it an odd amalgamation of cool triumph and restrained hatred. I stared back into his eyes defiantly, though deep inside I held the coming confrontation with great trepidation.

“Ladarion,” he said with distaste, his eyes narrowing. “So good to see you again.”

“Can’t say the sentiment stands mutually, Sarif. So what brings you to this humble little cell, huh? Gonna boast about your victory over a thief,” I ignored the sudden heat on the side of my head from Hawkeye’s glare, “and an average Joe?”

“I do not know who this ‘Joe’ is, but I do know that you and the thief,” the glare was then turned to him, “have had troubles in recent passing. I came here to sort that out, but I see the two of you have seemingly mended those troubles. And as much as I would love to gloat, I have an actual purpose in taking the time out of my schedule to make this visit.”

I stared at him. He stared back.

After a few seconds of silence, Hawkeye got tired of waiting for Sarif waiting for me to ask the next obvious question and decided to butt in. “So what’s your reason for being here, then?”

“Lift your shirt, ape,” Sarif said.

I raised my hands to my chest defensively. “Woah now, cowboy, you didn’t even take me out to dinner first.”

“You must have taken that for a suggestion. I was not asking you, I was telling you. It has come to my attention that you were injured; I would like to see the contusion.”

Frowning, but seeing no nonviolent way out of this, I shrugged and lifted my shirt.

Sarif hummed, eyeing the discolored flesh with the barest hint of what I almost wanted to call sympathy. It was overshadowed by revulsion, though.

When Sarif moved forward, hoof outstretched to touch the bruise, I dropped leaned away, flinching in pain at the sudden movement. I grasped my ribs, causing Sarif to raise a brow.

“Okay, yeah, I was brutalized by one of your damn guards in an altercation, but I don’t see how this time is any different than the others.”

“Would you be able to identify the guard who assaulted you in such a fashion? I have a roster of sentries dispatched to this wing, should that help.”

I looked up at him, confused. “Why the hell do you so suddenly care about my well-being?”

“It is my job to ensure the health of those who have caught the eye of Yarghuul in this region, Ladarion. He who is responsible for your unreasonably harsh treatment will be punished accordingly.” For some reason, the guard by Arib shifted nervously at that declaration.

“You know I could just lie and tell you it was anyone, right?”

“To do such a thing would be ridiculous. You have some thought going on in that primate skull of yours, I’d imagine. Either way, we can narrow down the potential suspects with a list of details provided by you if possible and the time of your harm.”

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I told him about the approximate time when I was beaten. “So it aligns with the time of Hawkeye’s interrogation, then.” Sarif nodded at the information. “Did you get any facial details?”

“None,” I answered. “I was kinda busy getting my ass kicked by basically everyone.” I didn’t really hold any warm feelings about ‘Detective’ Sarif’s asshole troops anyway, so it wasn’t my concern if either both, one, or none of them had their hides tanned. I really just wanted to get out of this damned place and not be bothered by anyone.

“It would have been better to have a confirmation, but all evidence points to… you, Private Tewar.” The random guard, now named, jumped slightly at the accusation, for some reason bowing to his captain. “Rise, soldier. Do you have anything to say in your defense for this most grave of crimes against the Crown?”

“S-Sir, I was only responding to the skirmish between the ape and the thief! In the heat of the moment, I admit I acted zealously in my haste, but it was only with the intention of stopping them from damaging each other grievously.”

“Um. I was on the ground, reeling from a possible concussion with an angry bird-lion-cat thing,” and again a glare was cast upon me, “trying her damnedest to bash in my forehead. If I seemed threatening to you even in that state, then you got a major malfunction, bub.” I crossed my arms and shook my head contemptuously at the poor pony logic.

The guard was left speechless at that, so Sarif took the reins and spoke for him. “So you are guilty of bringing him undue harm?”

“Captain, you must understand, I was simply upholding the pea-,” he was interrupted when Sarif turned and sent a hoof careening into the side of his face, effectively smacking the taste out of his pleading mouth.

“Enough of your excuses! Do you realize what would happen to all of us if Yahguul were to see him in this condition!? He would not be pleased! We would be lucky to be tried for treason, much less return to Saddle Arabia at all!” Sarif took a moment to compose himself, Hawkeye and Arib watching the display with surprise evident on their faces at the normally calm and collected leader of the red garbs losing his temper whilst I took a moment to wonder whether anything on this planet was mentally stable.

“Head to the barracks for reassignment,” Sarif commanded after he cooled down. “I cannot have this same mistake made. Sands above and below, such a thing would be far too costly.” There was a small pause as the tension in the room, still palpable, properly settled itself. “Dismissed!”

The guard quickly made himself scarce. Surely enough, I felt just a tad better, the pain in my side diminishing at the lingering taste of fear and anger.

I don’t think the unions back home would appreciate this kind of leader-worker relationship. “Now that that’s out of the way, you got anything else for us?” Wouldn’t want to impose on your ever so busy schedule of poisoning the elderly, poaching endangered birds, or taking toilet paper rolls from public restrooms.

Sarif cleared his throat. “For now, that will be all. I will send a physician with painkilling medication to your cell. As much as I would enjoy seeing you suffer, it is beyond my station at the moment to act upon my wishes. We shall likely see one another in Saddle Arabia, when I am no longer charged with the prince’s protection. Till then, Ladarion.” He turned around and began walking out of the cell. “Come, Arib. There are a few preparations that must be made before your trek across the Soranora.” With that, Sarif and Arib left.

I felt some of the tension in the air dissipate with Sarif’s absence. I wasn’t expecting him to personally visit me, but, thinking on it, stranger has happened in my stay in Ponyland. Truly, I should have expected it.

While I was ruminating on the conversation with Sarif, Hawkeye eased her way back over to a respectable distance from me, a frown on her face. “That was… odd.”

“Indeed it was, although I was anticipating the conversation to go worse than that. I guess Murphy’s taking the day off today.”

“Why would he admit to wanting you dead or worse and then lash out at the guard who hurt you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Hawkeye. I’d attribute his behavior to the fact that his job is ensuring valuable ‘cargo’ gets along unmarred.”

“And why is he holding a grudge against you, anyway? Sure, he was happy when he caught me after I humiliated him in the desert, but he genuinely seems more concerned about you.”

“Is this a jealousy thing? Hawkeye, you and I both know I’m the prettiest of the two of us. Of course I’m going to get the most attention.”

The look on Hawkeye’s face was priceless. “There are a hundred ways I could rebut that, but since I’m well aware of your attempt to derail our little heart-to-heart, I won’t take the bait. Why is Sarif so concerned over you?”

Probably because I, according to him, killed a few of the bastards on his team. I tried my best to keep those unpleasant thoughts in my subconscious. “No clue. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I went from some chump in chains to some chump who befriended the most powerful family in Sauna Pai in less than a day.”

“But from what I see, you’re still some chump in chains at the end of the day.”

I had no retort for that, so I was silent for a moment. Eventually, I sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

After about 30 or so seconds of nothing being said, Hawkeye spoke up again. “So what happened,” she asked.

I clenched my teeth in anger. “I had a falling out with the head of the household.”

“And that resulted in you being sent here? Must’ve been one crazy falling out.”

“I’d rather not talk about it. It still burns.” All lessons do, come to think of it.

“You sure you don’t want to-.”

“I’m sure,” I growled.

“…Alright, then. Want to play a few more rounds of Heads or Tails?” Hawkeye asked, pulling out the coin.

“Nah. I’m gettin’ tired. Think I’ll turn in for the night.”

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Okay, Ladarion. Guess I’ll have to find something else to do to pass the time.”

“You’ll manage.”

I slid onto my bunk, placing my hands behind my head. Ignoring Hawkeye’s melodramatic sigh, I closed my eyes. As I slipped from my unfortunate reality into the less comforting realm of unconsciousness, the fog again enveloped my thoughts.

And what I saw on the other side was certainly something.

Author's Notes:

I surprised even myself with this update. See you guys whenever the next hits.