I find myself thinking about you more and more. Silty. The Marble Statue. My statue. You were so mad when I first called you that. Thought I was trying to make you a ‘trophy.’

I’ve been with a lot of mares, Silty. I’ve got Fleur here, teasing me with that indescribable body of hers. Cold as ice, though. Won’t give me the time of day. Probably for the better; tapping that could get me a one-way trip to Tartarus. And you know, lately I’m not so interested. Not just in her, but in mares in general. They’ve been a serious pain in the ass for me lately, but it’s not even that. I’ve been with dozens of mares; beautiful, young, old, fillies just starting to learn what their cunts are for.

None of them were you. Looking back, I feel like I was just… looking. For something that doesn’t exist anymore. Funny thing, the act of looking. It’s what I do, isn’t it? Looking for treasures, looking for tail, looking for revenge, looking for meaning. I was never satisfied, because I didn’t know what it was that would satisfy me. I still don’t.

Damn it, I’m rambling. This is a waste of my time. You’re probably insulted, anyway. Can’t blame you. I turned into a real shit after you left.

—Cruelles Caballeron, Book of Shadows XLVIII,

December 20, 1002

Excerpt from personal diaries, translated from Palabras del Sur, June 16, 1007

Caballeron knocked on the door to the Acquisitions Office, wincing at the loud sound. He glanced around; nopony was watching. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been that loud. The corners of his lips tried to rise up, but he fought them down and remained stoic. Professional. Calm. This had to be done the right way.

The door opened, revealing a short, stubby yellow stallion with a brown mane. His scowl softened upon seeing Caballeron. The Dean of Acquisitions spoke first. “Ah, Cruelles. I take it the meeting with the Board went well?”

Twitch. Stay down, lips. “Very well. I’ve come to… put in some requests.”

Without cracking so much as a smile, the stallion replied, “I think the word you mean is ‘celebrate.’ Well, come on, she’s in her office. Just try not to get her too excited this time.”

“No promises.” Caballeron followed him inside, at last having mercy on his own lips with a smirk. “In fact, you may want to clear a path.”

The older stallion groaned and nodded, already walking away. They’d entered a room roughly the size of a regular classroom. Filing cabinets formed neat rows that reached all the way up to the ceiling, making the place feel much smaller than it really was. How Silty could stand to work in these claustrophobic conditions, Caballeron hadn’t a clue.

The path had become so familiar to him he could have walked it with his eyes closed. His smile grew more and more as he weaved through the equivalent of hallways. Within seconds, he’d stopped at a simple door. He paused to return his face to that same stoicness as before, the effort almost painful. One slow breath. Two. On the third, he knocked.

“Come in.”

He pushed through the door. The office was small, though a bit larger than what most of the professors at the school warranted. Priceless artifacts, most of them coming from the Jackal civilization, decorated the walls like aged trophies. There were a few others – the hilt of a Caribou sword here, the shards of ancient Equestrian pottery there – but none with a knowledge for archeology could doubt where Silty’s interests lay.

Squeezed behind a desk covered in towers of forms sat Silty, her horn dimly lit as three different pages hovered before her face. Without looking up, she asked, “Alright, CC, what’s the damage?”

Stay down, lips, stay down! “You always know it’s me. How do you do that?”

“You have a way of walking,” she replied, tone distracted. “I can hear you coming from clear across the school.”

He stood before her, eyeing the paper towers, some of which were taller than he was. “If these fall over while I’m here, I’m not gonna help you clean up the mess. Again.”

She rolled her eyes and set the forms down, levitating a quill to scribble on one of them. A quick glance told him the note was for rejection. “They aren’t going to fall,” she countered. “Again.”

Still as stone, Cabby. Still as stone. “They might. You tend to get excited about things.”

She waved a dismissive hoof, somehow managing not to hit one of the miniature skyscrapers. “Unless you’re here to tell me that you’ve been approved to expand the Overlook Dig again, I don’t see me getting too excited. So how long did they say they were going to make you wait this time?”

He sighed, doing his best to keep it from seeming exaggerated. “Ah, you know how the Directors are. One minute they’re making nice promises, the next they’re ripping the rug out from under you.” He pulled out the letter in his coat pocket with his teeth. His blood pounded, his legs wanted to do a little dance. He paused as he felt the extra weight in his coat pocket shift. Maybe…

No, wrong timing. He turned back to her and let her take the letter from his mouth. He then sat… and braced.

Silty deftly slipped the letter between the paper towers. Caballeron bit his lip as she gave him one last glance before opening the envelope, pulling out its contents and reading.

A second passed.

Two.

Silty’s eyebrows would have impacted the ceiling had they not been attached to her face. She let out a pitched squeal and bounced. One of her legs bumped the desk; towers rocked, tilted… and remained in place.

Then they shattered into a billion pages as she dove over the desk to engulf him in a tight hug. “Three more years! Three more years, Cabby!”

Oh, look, he was grinning. He gave up the fight and held her tight, laughing as a page settled on his muzzle. “Celestia increased educational funding this year, and the school won a special fund specifically because of the Overlook dig. We’re free to expand… heck, as far as we can! We’ll get to the edge of the town before we run out of funds.”

“That’s wonderful! Oh, Cabby, I’m so happy for you!” She kissed him right on the lips, and he returned it eagerly.

They parted shortly, Silty pronking and giggling like a school filly. “Oh, this is so exciting! Who knows what you’ll uncover? There’s no telling how far out the town goes. You’d better remember to leave some choice artifacts for me to add to my collection.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “What, you expect me to do all the work? Why should I find them all?”

Her bouncing ceased and she blew a floating form away from her eyes. “Yeah, because the workers like watching you sit on the sidelines sipping martinis. And we both know I’m not going back.”

He set a hoof to her shoulder, firmly, and met her gaze. “Says who?”

Silty glanced at his hoof, brow furrowed. “Uh, the guys who write our checks? I’m in Acquisitions now, you know that.”

“But you don’t have to be.” He grinned as her eyebrows rose once more. “I spoke to Ledger before heading here. I had to make a couple promises, but if you want back out in the field, we can do it.”

The air left her, blowing the paper from his muzzle. “Y-you’re serious? I can be an archeologist again?”

“Yes, and let’s be clear.” He pecked her on the lips. “I want you with me. This is our dig, Silty, and you—”

She launched into him, squealing and holding him tight even as they collapsed onto the floor. More papers flew about as she gave him a firmer kiss than before, with a little tongue to boot. “Yes, yes, yes! I love you, you hunky stallion!”

Back on her hooves an instant later, she began bouncing in small circles. “Th-there’s so much to do! I need to write my mother, my collection needs to be secured, the house too, and and and—” She laughed wildly and leapt for the door. “You’re the best coltfriend ever, Cabby! I’ve gotta get started!”

“We’ve got time,” he called after her, only halfway off the floor. “Shouldn’t you clean this mess up?”

“Screw the mess, I’m not in Acquisitions anymore.” She disappeared out the door at full gallop, shouting at the top of her lungs. “I’m an archeologist!”

He sat in the middle of her room, which now looked as if a hurricane had passed through. He chuckled, then frowned. With a sigh, he reached into his pouch once more and pulled out a small case. It opened to reveal a shimmering silver necklace. “Darn it, Silty, if you’d just held back a little.” After a moment’s consideration, however, he gained a soft smile. “But y’know, I bet she’d find the dig itself more romantic. Plan B, then.”

Putting the necklace away, he stood, stretched, and trotted for the door. His progress came to a halt at the threshold when the Dean of Acquisitions appeared and pressed a hoof to his chest. He smirked at Caballeron. In unison, the two glanced back into Silty’s office. Forms were literally everywhere, some still fluttering about like so much debris. Caballeron looked to the stallion, then back to the mess, then back to the stallion. He caught the look in the Director's eyes.

With a groan, he turned back for the office. “Damn it, Silty…” He wasted no time getting to work. He hoped he could simply get things looking neat and leave the sorting for some intern to do, because he had far more important things on his mind. Then again…

He paused to glance at the door. The Dean was nowhere to be seen. A small smirk lit his lips; perhaps he could find a few of his team’s official requests. Would anypony notice if the stamp of approval… ‘dropped’ onto them during Silty’s excitement? She wouldn’t approve, of course, but as she said: she wasn’t in Acquisitions anymore. The little devil inside him gleefully rubbed its hooves.

Ah, but then again, there was the matter of the wrong people catching wind and tracing things back to her. Caballeron wilted, his little scheme vanishing in a puff of smoke. It was one thing to play the system a little, it was another when somepony else took the fall for his actions. Especially Silty. If there was any pony he never wanted to hurt, it was her. And so, grumbling about his accursed loyalty, he set to work doing the job the right way.

He didn’t get very far before the commotion started. Somepony called his name from beyond the doorway. He poked his head out, but couldn’t see for all the filing cabinets. Whoever it as, she sounded scared. Perhaps a student in one of his classes freaking over an essay? It wouldn’t be the first time. He’d be glad when he could go out to the field and not worry about such mundane problems.

As he stepped out into the main office, a mare appeared at the end of one of the rows. He took in her features as she bounded towards him; definitely a student, but from a class… last year? Why would she be coming at him like this?

She slid to a stop in front of him, gasping for breath. “P-professor, I came as fast as I—”

He raised a hoof. “Calm down. Whatever it is, I’m sure it doesn’t warrant this kind of—”

The student slapped his hoof down and shook her head frantically. “There’s been an accident! Miss Eyes is… She’s…”

Caballeron’s blood ran cold. “Where?”

“B-by the school post office. It was—”

He shoved the mare aside and ran. Ponies tried to call out to him as he barreled through the halls, but their voices were drowned out by the incessant pounding in his ears. She’s fine, just fine. The student was scared, that’s all. Silty will laugh it off and poke fun at the poor thing. Nothing gets the big girl down. Nothing. She’s fine. The thoughts repeated over and over, struggling to block out all doubt. The girl overreacted. Surely.

But if she hadn’t? He put on the speed, sliding across the wooden floor at a corner and slamming into the wall. Paying no mind to the pain in his shoulder, he galloped to the double doors leading outside.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where to go; a crowd had gathered near the front of the school’s post office. Over the heads of ponies rose a carriage on its side, one of the wheels still spinning on its lopsided axis. He rushed into the crowd, shoving ponies aside without apology. “Silty? Out of my way. Silty!” He strained his ears to hear her over the chattering crowd, but earned no answer. “Move it, curse you!”

She’s okay she’s okay she’s okay…

He burst through the crowd, nearly falling on his face from the effort. He looked up, and all hope left him. Silty lay on her side… partly. A pony’s body wasn’t supposed to twist like that. Her upper body was on its back, her legs unmoving, her eyes gazing at the sky. Two ponies knelt at her side, but he neither heard their words or recognized their faces. Even as he came to realize what he was seeing, her eyes began rolling back into their sockets and her chest spasmed.

“No you don’t!” Caballeron shoved one of the ponies aside and nuzzled her cheek. “You don’t get to do that. Come on, Silty, hold on. You haven’t become famous yet. You can’t go until you do, you hear me?”

Her only response was to gasp through her wide open mouth. Her face had already turned a deep shade of blue.

“No, stop that!” He held her face. “Don’t you dare!” He looked to the pony opposite him. “What are you doing? Help her!”

The pony only looked away.

“I… you… Somepony help her!” He looked at the crowd, but not a pony stepped forward. Cursing, he looked down to find her gasps weakening. “No, nononono, come on, big girl. Breathe!”

That was when she stopped moving entirely. His mind froze as he took in her blue face, her wide, motionless lips, her rolled back eyes. Time, it seemed, had stopped. That could be the only explanation. Soon it would kick back in and she’d be gasping for air once more. He just had to wait. Any second now.

Any second.

Any…

“S-Silty?”

Silence hung in the air like dead weight, pulling down on his withers like an anchor. His eyes burned. Something began to bubble up, something primal and unpleasant and loathsome. Something Caballeron wanted absolutely nothing to do with. If he could avoid nothing else in the world, he would avoid that.

So he did the next worst thing, and the devil within him sharpened its horns.

Caballeron jumped to his hooves as he bellowed. “Who did this?!”

He whipped around to glare at the crowd, who all retreated from his snarl. He snorted steam, body low and one hoof scraping the cobblstones. “Don’t just stare at me, talk!” When nopony answered, he leapt forward to grab the closest pony he could, a wide-eyed student. Lifting the gasping pegasus off the ground, he shook the pony and shouted in her face. “Where is he? Who did it? Tell me!”

“Cruelles! Let her go!”

The mare fled back into the crowd the instant he dropped her. Caballeron spun around to find the school’s head doctor gaping at him. “Pulso! Where were you! You bucking useless piece of trash, do you know what I’m gonna do to you?”

Pulso looked to Silty’s still body, his ears lowered and his shoulders slumping. “Oh... Cruelles, I am so—”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” He launched, but didn’t get more than a couple steps before strong legs grasped him from three directions. He pushed and kicked and shoved, never taking his eyes off the forlorn face of the doctor. “You should have been here! You could have saved her! Don’t you pretend to be sorry, you shitfaced crackpot! I’ll kill you, do you hear me? I’m gonna—”

Something hard cracked against the back of Caballeron’s skull. The impact rocked him forward and the pain was incredible… but not enough. With a roar that made everypony nearby back away, he turned and heabutted one of his captors in the muzzle. The mare cried out and lost her grip, which was all it took for him to jerk his foreleg free and deliver a powerful punch in the gut of the pony on his opposite side. The stallion’s eyes boggled as the air left him, and with another shake Caballeron had freed his other foreleg.

That left the pony holding his hindquarters. He began bucking wildly, snarling and growling, but the pony held on tight. He tried circling, jumping, twisting and kicking, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get free. Before he knew it, burly ponies in brown officer uniforms were tackling him. He bit and bucked and bellowed, but finally somepony managed to deliver another blow to his head, and everything went black.

The study was dark, the curtains closed and the candles unlit. Caballeron leaned on his desk, forehead pressed against his forehooves. His eyes were locked on the silver necklace between his elbows. Even in the dark, it gleamed. He said nothing, shed no tears, paid no mind to his rumbling stomach.

He just stared. Stared and ruminated on once was’s and might have been’s.

His ears perked to a loud knock from his front door. He didn’t move. They would go away in time. He didn’t want to answer. Did want to do anything. It wasn’t as if doing something would make things better.

And yet the knocking continued. Whoever was at his door, they were persistent. Finally, he realized that his ‘guest’ had no respect for his brooding. Grumbling under his breath, he closed the necklace case and set it lovingly on a shelf before descending down the stairs of his townhouse. A glance at a mirror in the hall revealed a very different stallion from what he was accustomed to; mane a mess, eyes bloodshot, body gaunt and a few days of stubble on his chin. A long lost part of him considered cleaning up, but he thought better of it; perhaps his wretched countenance would scare the annoying visitor away first thing.

He flung the door open to find…a filly? He squinted against the bright sunlight – what was it, noon? Later? – as he tried to make sense of the small shape before him.

The pony’s hoof had been raised in preparation for another knock. It lowered slowly, and a young but scratchy voice spoke. “Mr. Caballeron?” She had a faint Equestrian accent, but otherwise spoke Palabras del Sur quite well.

He grumbled out a rough “What do you want?” that she might have been able to comprehend.

“I-I’m your new assistant. For the… dig?”

Assistant?

Comprehension struck him like a hammer: this was supposed to be Silty’s replacement. In an instant of bitter venom, he strongly considered slamming the door in her face. He flung the devil within aside, however, harshly reminding himself that he couldn’t hold this pony at fault for… anything, really. Except disturbing his mourning. But if she’d come here to bug him with such determination, she’d probably been ordered to by somepony at the school. As much as he wanted to tell her to go away, he guessed it wouldn’t be fair to put her in that position.

With his mind made up, he rubbed his eyes one last time and, with his vision finally cleared, got his first good look at her. For a moment, he thought his eyes deceived; this pony was so young she could hardly be called a mare. A pegasus with a typically light build, she sported a golden coloration and a mane that was… grey? Shades of grey. What would one call that? Bah, he wasn’t an expert in colors. She stared up at him with anxious, rose-colored eyes framed by a pair of red glasses.

He stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. At last he blurted out, “How old are you?”

She straightened up with a little gasp and a smile. “Just turned fifteen, sir.”

“Fifteen?” He took in her youthful appearance, jaw working slowly. “They expect a fifteen year old to be able to lead a dig site?”

Her expression dropped. “I-I’ve worked digs before. A half dozen! I brought my career history, h-here, I’ll show you.”

He stopped her from reaching into her saddlebags with a hoof to the shoulder. She met his eyes even as she chewed her lip.

“What’s your name, filly?”

She hesitated. “A.K. Yearling.”

His eyebrows shot up. “That A.K. Yearling? Of the Unitopia Watch site?”

“Yeah!” Her wings burst open and a grin shot to her lips. “You’ve heard of it? That was an amazing find! I still can’t believe the sheer number of ancient unicorn tribe artifacts we found. Old Miss Igneous refused to believe me when I told her we should be looking on top of Callyhoof Mountain three miles west of the dig, so I had to go there myself and bring back a dagger, and even then she thought I was lying so I went again and brought back an onyx necklace, and at that point she demanded I show her the site because she still thought I was snatching them from somewhere around the dig instead but you should have seen the way her eyes popped out of her head when we landed right in the ruins of the guard tower but you couldn’t tell it was a guard tower at the time because it was still mostly buried even so she knew right away that I’d—”

He silenced her rambling with a hoof to her lips. Slowly, his struggling brain processed everything she’d said. It flailed about wildly in an attempt to make sense of everything he was hearing. “B-but… but that was two years ago! You mean to tell me you made your first archeological breakthrough at the age of thirteen?”

Blushing and rubbing her leg, she replied, “I-I wouldn’t say that. I mean, all I really did was retranslate the Platinum Scroll in a slightly different way. It was still Miss Igneous’s find.”

Caballeron wasn’t sure how to take this discovery. Part of him knew that this pony being chosen for his assistant was a move on the school’s part to get him to stop moping and get back to work. He recognized this for the gift that it was; a brilliant young archeologist on his team who was modest enough to not try to steal the credit from under his muzzle. He’d never imagined that the pony behind the Unitopia Watch site and the Tomb of the griffon king Shearing Feather had been so young.

And attractive. Too attractive. His lips curled in a scowl at Yearling’s shapely, muscular form. Had that factored into her being chosen as well, or just a coincidence? If they thought having a cute young mare would make him forget his big girl that quickly, they had another thing coming.

“Uh, Mr. Caballeron?”

Realizing he’d been staring, Caballeron shook himself and stepped aside. “Alright, come in and we’ll talk.” He waited for her to enter, unnerved by how she did so with a strange combination of flight and walking. He promptly dubbed the motion a ‘flitter’ and wondered if it wasn’t a sign of her lingering excitement. “Now, let’s start with—”

She released a massive gasp and darted to an object hanging from his wall. “Is that a coyote ceremonial mask? Oh, Pre-Celestial fifth century? And you found one with the ears intact!” She let out a small squeal, her eyes shining with glee and her wings popping open. “And the engravings around the eye sockets! Clearly from the Barktarian Region. Maybe it’s from around the time of the War of Pawticlus?”

Caballeron’s intended snap faded from his lips and his eyebrows reacquainted themselves with his bangs. “You can tell all that just by looking?”

She went stiff for a moment, gradually forcing her wings down, then turned to him with a fresh blush. “S-sorry. I’ve been trying to keep my excitement down. It’s just... so… awesome!” She slapped a hoof over her lips. “I m-mean, interesting. I’ll calm down now, I promise.”

Despite all his misgivings, Caballeron chuckled at her antics. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Boss?”

Caballeron flinched as his thoughts were interrupted. He found himself staring at one of the more recently unearthed Jackal homes, which had a small team of researchers cataloguing its possessions. Adjusting his helmet against the sun, he wondered how long he’d been sitting there.

He turned to find Yearling sitting by his side, her own pith helmet adjusted back to better see him. “Hmm?”

She glanced at the ancient house, then back to him. “Are you alright? You looked… sad.”

He sighed and brought his eyes back to the home. “I’m fine, kid. Just… thinking about Silty.”

“Oh.” She sat in silence for a while, fidgeting in place. “I’ve been trying not to ask about her.”

He grunted. “I appreciate that.”

Another moment of anxious fiddling with her clipboard. “I never got to say it, but… But I never wanted you to think I was trying to, well, replace her. I mean, in terms of the job I am, but I’m not really, not in the way that counts. Except as it counts on the job! That is to say…” He turned his gaze upon her, and she promptly looked to her hooves. “N-nevermind.”

With another weary sigh, he patted her helmet – a habit he’d developed because it always resulted in an amusingly sour look from her youthful face. He didn’t smile at her pout this time, though. “It’s alright. I get what you’re trying to say.” Turning away from the house, he looked over the vast dig site. The Overlook Dig had by now uncovered a dozen homes of various designs and was perhaps halfway through uncovering what he suspected was a marketplace. It had already been established as the single biggest find in archology since the practice had begun two centuries ago.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked her without looking her way.

She followed his gaze with a thoughtful frown. “The Overlook Dig?”

“It’s a legacy,” he corrected, voice soft. “And I want it to be Silty’s. Her name. Her find. Her glory.” He looked to the cloudy skies and offered them a feeble smile. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You really cared about her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He thought back to a silver necklace still resting in its box under his pillow. “A lot.”

Yearling wasn’t Silty, but Caballeron was coming to know her enough that he knew she was watching him. He’d grown to like the filly, not least because her past findings had nothing to do with luck. She was born to do this job. He found it almost enviable.

She gave a light cough. “I hope I can do half a good a job in her place.”

He huffed a small laugh and gave her a genuine smile. Those were far less common for him nowadays. “Kid, you’re ten times the archeologist Silty ever was.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, really? But you make her sound like she was amazing.”

“Oh, she was.” He nodded. “An amazing mare. Good friend.” He chuckled and looked back to the dig. “Lousy archeologist. She made up for it in with sheer tenacity and lots of optimism.”

“I, uh…” She tittered and fidgeted with her helmet, clearly at a loss for how to deal with this topic. He couldn’t blame her; this was the first time he’d really spoken of Silty with her.

He patted her helmet, and she rewarded him with that cute little scowl. “I’m glad you joined the team, kid.”

The scowl switched for a beaming grin so fast it was like the former had never existed. “Really?”

“Yeah. Sorry I never said it before.” He began walking through the dig, beckoning her to follow, and she flittered after him. “You’ve got a promising career ahead of you, and I’m glad to have been part of it. With your help, Silty’s dream is coming together faster than either of us ever imagined.” As they walked, he took to eyeing the other workers around the dig, making sure they were doing their jobs properly. They always did, but it never hurt to be vigilant.

“I’m just doing my job, sir.”

He chuckled at her ever-present politeness. He wondered if she knew that he sometimes overheard her more aggressive talk with the workers. It was nice to have a pony around who knew when the situation called for a firebrand. He was also aware of her grin, even without having to look. Yearling took pride in her skills, and he couldn’t fault that.

“You know,” he said after a moment of silence between the two, “when they first assigned you to be my assistant out here, I wasn’t even sure I intended to keep up the job.” He cast a glance her way and saw, with satisfaction, that he now had her full attention. “Silty’s death hit me hard. I… don’t think I’ll ever get over it.”

She tilted her head, quickly raising her hoof to keep her oversized helmet from tipping off. “So why did you come back out here?”

“You, to be blunt.” He shot her another smile and chuckled as she glanced away with a blush. “You were so full of energy, so excited to get the chance to get out here and discover. It… reminded me of her.” He sighed and paused before the entrance to the sand-coated marketplace. “The day she died, I’d just told her that she’d get to be an archeologist again. She was so thrilled, it was like she’d been reduced to a filly. I…” He closed his eyes against the liquid in his eyes. “I think it’s how I’ll always remember her.”

Another moment of silence passed between them. Yearling patted his shoulder and asked, curiously, “Was she pretty?”

He barked a laugh and rubbed his eyes. “Nope! Not at all. But she was mine, and there’ll never be another like her.” Once his eyes had cleared, he straightened his posture and took in the marketplace once more, watching as diamond dogs and ponies worked in tandem to meticulously clear out the soil and rock covering the area. “That’s why I came back. She deserves this. She may not have been the greatest archeologist, but she was here and she did her part. I want the world to remember that Silty Eyes was a key figure in the discovery of Pawtlpotl.”

He eyed the workers for a time, but mostly he basked. Basked in the success of the dig, and in the knowledge that Silty’s dream would be a reality. She might be gone… and sometimes he still cried at night. But at least he could give her what she always wanted and deserved. If he could do nothing else for her, he would do this.

“Ummm…”

Yearling’s voice had been barely audible. He turned to find her hiding her face behind her clipboard, the pith helmet leaned over her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She glanced over her clipboard and gave the tiniest yelp. “I… Uh, well, now that you mention it… er…”

Sighing, he turned back to watch the workers. “Spit it out, kid.”

She tittered and fidgeted for a good time, and he let her. If it was important, she’d get it out eventually. After what seemed an eternity, she finally managed to ask timidly, “What if it’s… not… Pawtlpotl?”

His brow furrowed as this concept danced around his brain. After a few seconds he gave up on it as indecipherable and turned to her. “What do you mean?”

She twirled the clipboard between her hooves as her wings gave small flaps. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’ve been going over your translations of some of the tablets you and Silty found. I… I found some irregularities. Maybe… maybe they don’t say what you think they do?”

Was she serious? He considered the possibility carefully. The translations had been time consuming and, if he were honest, not just a little challenging. He’d been forced to make some educated guesses here and there. Could he have made a mistake?

This was still a major find in archeology. But to think that they’d not found Pawtlpotl, the legendary Jackal city? No. This was Silty’s legacy. He did his best work because her name had been attached to it. To have his theories and translations debunked would destroy all he’d worked for in her name! There was no way he’d have slipped on something this important.

He chuckled and shook his head. Yearling might be an archeological prodigy, but she was still equine. Ponies make mistakes. “I suggest you take another look. This is definitely Pawtlpotl.”

Yearling flinched. “B-but, if it isn’t, then—”

“It is.” He shot her a hard look. “I didn’t agree to let you join this dig just so you could go casting doubts around. This is Pawtlpotl, and Silty’s name will go down in the history books as its discoverer.”

The filly stepped back, her head hanging. Her helmet slipped a little further over her face and he could see her lower lip trembling.

Curse him, why’d he have to take that tone? He reached up and pushed the helmet back, looking her in the eyes. “Hey, it’s alright. It was just a little mistake.”

“But I…” She bit her lip, her eyes shifting in thought. Finally, she let her face drop again. “O-okay. I’m sorry I bothered you about it.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” And he was surprised to realize he meant it. “If you think you’ve found something, good or bad, always report it. Even if it ends up being a false alarm, the worst you can do is keep it to yourself. Alright?” He waited for her nod, then smiled and patted her helmet. “Good girl. Why don’t you go take another look at the records? Maybe you’ll find what you did wrong.”

Yearling didn’t give him her usual scowl. She just walked away, head hanging low. He watched her go, miffed by her behavior. I guess she takes failure pretty seriously.

After a moment’s consideration, he shrugged and turned back to the marketplace. He’d make it up to her later. It was time he got his hooves dirty.

Caballeron was in the Academy’s Storage and Research wing helping to put away the latest haul from the Overlook when they came. Director Colarse stomped through the hallway, backed by a quintet of armed Royal Guards. “Caballeron! I hope you’ve got a dang good explanation for this!”

Ears perked and eyes shifted onto the approaching figures, all of whom came to an abrupt stop at the sudden attention. Caballeron frowned at the Director, but his mind lit up when he saw the Guard. The brownshirts were one thing, but the Guard? What was this all about? Why would they visit the school – and wanting to see him, no less? And he’d been having such a good day.

Approaching warily, he asked, “What’s going on, Colarse?”

“What’s going on is this.” The director reached into his saddlebags and pulled out something; a familiar stone tablet.

Caballeron sucked in a sharp breath as the object was displayed to him. “What are you doing with that in your saddlebags? That is a priceless relic, you fool!”

“Is it?” Colarse pulled the tablet back before he could grab it. “Take a closer look.”

What was going on here? Caballeron studied the director’s face. His brow was furrowed, but the look in his eye was less accusing and more concerned. Curious, so he wasn’t getting blamed for something? He looked at the tablet, inspecting it more closely.

It took all of three seconds to see it, and when he did a chill ran down his spine. “What the… What happened to the words?” He reached for the stone, only to have it pulled away once more. “Damn it, let me look at the thing!”

“Evidence, Cruelles.” Colarse stepped back, his movement like a flighty bee trying to keep its distance. “The Guard won’t let anypony touch them. I’m lucky I was able to bring this one. Now please, tell me you had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t even know what’s happening. Now let me see that tablet!” He started to approach, but one of the armed ponies stepped in his way. He scowled at the mare, clearly an officer, then shifted to get a better look at Colarse. “Give me the details.”

“The ‘detail’ is that somepony tampered with the Outlook talismans,” the director hissed. “Dozens of tablets! Somepony went in and changed the lettering.”

The hackles on Caballerons’ neck rose. His legs started to shake. “They. Did. What?”

“You see that?” Colarse snapped at the mare between them. “Does that look like the reaction of a guilty stallion to you?”

“The evidence points to Mr. Caballeron.” The officer leveled Cruelles with a firm look. “We need to bring you in for questioning.”

He snorted and backed away. “Evidence? What evidence?”

“All in due time, Mr. Caballeron.” She gestured to her three companions, who spread out as if to block escape. “Are you going to come quietly?”

Caballeron considered refusing, even knowing they’d try to force him. The little devil in the back of his head was clawing at the walls to be let out, but he gripped it by the tail and flung to the back of his mind. He’d done nothing. A guiltless pony had no need to fear. He’d go in, answer their stupid questions, and then get to the bottom of things himself.

He lifted his head high just for the sake of looking down his muzzle at her. “I’ll go. I want to know who’s screwing with my research as much as you do.”

She nodded and stepped aside. “There’s a carriage waiting outside.”

With the four guards surrounding him, Caballeron allowed himself to be led out, but not before shouting back at the crew, “I’m gonna be back by morning. Don’t let me come here and find out you’ve all been slacking off! And somepony tell Yearling.” The thought of his young assistant almost brought him short.

“She’s gonna freak out.”

Caballeron wasn’t back by morning.

The ‘evidence’ against him was nothing short of absurd. Apparently somepony insisted on having seen him enter the store rooms for the tablets right before the most recent vandalism. That seemed vague to even his questioners, but the criminal had left the tools of the act behind, along with fur and mane hairs that looked startlingly similar to Caballeron's. Worse, the tampering had apparently been going on for months! By this point Caballeron suspected he was being framed, and suggested they look closer at the pony who was accusing him. Alas, she had an alibi, with witnesses.

Still, Caballeron had been confident they’d be able to prove his innocence, even after having to stay a night in jail. When they asked permission to search his townhouse, he gave it readily; what possible evidence could they find to incriminate him there?

He’d been a fool.

He stared at the officer from before, who he now knew was named Cherry Picker. Odd name for a Royal Guard. “A journal.”

Officer Picker nodded solemnly, lifting up a small green book. “Your personal journal.”

He stared at the unfamiliar thing in puzzlement. “I don’t keep a journal.”

“No?”

“No.” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the book. “I mean, I keep official journals for the Outlook digsite and my research notes, but personal, everyday stuff? No need.”

She raised an eyebrow, then flipped the book open. “It has your hoofwriting.”

Gritting his teeth, Caballeron pushed the little demon to the back of his mind. “You are mistaken.”

“I don’t think I am.” Flipping a few more pages, she began to read. “ ‘The damn tablets aren’t getting the results I need. Clearly we were mistaken; this isn’t Pawtlpotl after all. I didn’t spend all these years of my life on a lost cause. Perhaps, if I can’t find the evidence, I can make it.’ ”

The devil came back with a vengeance. Caballeron shot to his hooves, chest banging against the table as he did. “It’s a lie! I didn’t write that!”

Officer Picker continued as if he’d not spoken. “ ‘It would be one thing if it was just my career on the line. I could accept the setback. But the Outlook isn’t just my dig site, it’s also Silty’s. If I can protect her reputation—‘ ”

Caballeron launched himself over the table, only to be caught halfway over it by the magic of the watching guards. He squirmed and roared in Officer Picker’s startled face. “Who wrote it? I’ll kill them for abusing her name like that! Give me that fucking book! I’ll track them down, I’ll rip them to pieces!”

The book snapped closed as the mare retreated. “Calm down!”

“Fuck you!” He kicked and flailed, emitting snarls and growls as he hung in midair. “They’re framing me, and they’re using my fucking dead fiancee’s fucking name to do it!”

She stuffed the foul thing back into her pocket, scowling at him all the while. “We’ll determine the validity of the journal for ourselves, Mr. Caballeron. I’ll admit, we didn’t have too much to go on when we first brought you in, but after finding this the odds are not in your favor. If you are guilty, I’d seriously consider a confession.”

“I’m not confessing to a Celestia-be-damned thing!”

“Suit yourself.” She nodded to the guards, and Caballeron was carried out the door.

He fought and kicked and grasped, but the guards did an excellent job of keeping him away from anything he might use for leverage. “Give me that book! I’m being framed! I won’t let them do this to me!”

“Boss!”

The fire dimmed just slightly at the familiar voice. He turned his head to find A.K. Yearling watching from an office down the hall. Hope flared within him at the sight of her tear-streaked face. “Kid! You gotta get back to the campus. Tell Colarse what’s going on. You’ve gotta find the truth. I didn’t do this!”

She jumped up and followed as he was carried back towards the cells. “I’m sorry, Boss, I’m so sorry!” Her path was blocked by a pair of guards. “I didn’t know they’d accuse you like this!”

Wait, what? He paused his fighting to stare at her. “What are you saying?”

She pressed against the guards, anguish clear on her face. “I found the tablets. I found them and you weren’t there, so I told Director Colarse. I’m sorry, I didn’t think they’d target you like this!”

It had been her. The witness they’d spoken of. Did she plant the journal, too? Why would she?

Of course, it was obvious. She was a rising star. She wanted credit. She needed him out of the way!

The world turned red. “Y-you… You!” He resumed the struggle as he glared at her horrified face. “You fucking traitorous bitch! I accepted you, was gonna make you part of something special! And you used Silty’s name to do it!”

Her fight against the guards ceased and her eyes grew wide. “W-what? No, I never—”

“Shut up!” He roared with such ferocity even the guards holding him in the air paused. “You’re dead you little whorse! You hear me? Dead! You better hope they throw me in jail, because if they don’t I am going to make you pay, do you hear me? Do you fucking hear me?!”

He was still screaming when the doors to the cell block slammed in his face. The last he saw of her was her tear-streaked, horrified expression.