“Whatcha doin?” a familiar voice asked.

“Hiding,” I replied quietly.

“Yer not doin very well,” the voice noted.

“There are many ways to hide, Bloom, sometimes just not being where you’re expected is enough,” I replied distantly, my thoughts on the many deaths I would suffer if Luna caught me before Tzu calmed her down. She’d see reason eventually, she always did.

“So why are ya hidin?” Applebloom asked curiously.

“Because Luna’s pretty pissed at me,” I explained curtly.

“Why?” Applebloom pressed.

“Because I...” I began, pausing as I struggled to find the right way to tell the filly that I had murdered thirty ponies the day before. Their deaths were necessary and would save far more, but children shouldn’t have to understand that level of pragmaticism.

“Dammit! Shit!” Mac cursed before freezing and looking around nervously. His face fell when he spotted Applebloom and I sitting against a tree just a few yards away.

“Whatcha actin’ weird for Big Mac? I didn’t hear nothin’,” Applebloom lied, getting a mix of gratitude and mild admonishment from her brother in return.

“So… Why’re you watchin’ me?” Mac asked in an obvious effort to distract everyone from his outburst.

“I was here first,” I countered, causing Mac to flinch, “Want to tell me what has you so distracted?”

“No,” Mac responded quietly, failing to draw out the word like he usually did.

“Is it the tree?” I prompted, my guess fueled by the deep notch Mac had cut into the plant before his ax had broken.

“Part of it,” Mac allowed.

“That’s one of the ones Pa planted,” Applebloom noted, “Why are ya cuttin’ it down?”

“It’s dying,” I replied, recognizing the early signs of fungal growth on the bark.

“Eeeyep,” Mac confirmed sadly.

“And if left alone, it’ll take the whole field with it,” I continued.

“Eeeyep,” Mac repeated.

“And the other part?” I asked.

“I just broke Pa’s ax,” Mac spat as he kicked the broken handle away.

“So? That ax has gone through a half dozen handles, just stick another on and get to it,” I chided, snapping Mac out of his funk.

“Can’t find one, I’ve been lookin’ fer months,” Mac shot back, his sadness replaced with anger.

“Then make one,” I suggested simply before adding, “Or look in the right places. Privateer armories should have them by the cartload, given that you’ve been swinging a boarding ax all these years.”

“A what?” Applebloom asked, though she had barely beaten Mac to the question.

“A boarding ax, it’s used to kill pirates,” I explained briefly.

“Pa fought pirates?” Applebloom wondered, her awe clear in her face and tone.

“No, he worked this farm his whole life,” Mac corrected firmly.

“Same as his father and his father before,” I agreed, “But your great-great-grandfather served first in the Equestrian Navy, then with a privateer crew, and only then did he return here to live out his days on the farm. That… is not his ax, it’s been replaced piecemeal over the centuries. A broken handle here, a busted blade there, but the spirit of it remains intact.”

“How do you know this?” Mac asked evenly.

“Didn’t we cover this last time? I’ve been connected to your family since long before you had your own farm. It doesn’t hurt that it was my ship he sailed on,” I allowed.

“You’ve got a pirate ship?” Applebloom asked excitedly, “Pipsqueak’s gonna be so jealous. I’ve got a friend who was a real pirate.”

“Privateer, and no. She sank decades ago, though she’d been resigned to that fate longer ago still. Once the big companies got their own ships, I lost contracts and had to let the crew go. After that I left her to rot and join the rest at the bottom of Baltimare Bay,” I explained.

“So not a pirate. Then what’s a piravteer?” Applebloom asked. I let Mac think I hadn’t noticed him sidle closer once my tale had begun.

“Privateers are to the ocean what mercenaries are the land. They haul cargo from port to port and are no strangers to a dustup. You need iron moved from Stalliongrad to Prance and aren’t sure the waters are safe? Hire a privateer ship. Forty-six guns on three decks, a bosun with no fear of boarding actions and a particular fondness for his ax, and an unkillable captain. We were the nightmare of every scurvy ridden son of a whore along the whole of the coast, until the pirates either died or found safer jobs and the seas were safe enough to retire the noble privateers,” I explained, giving Applefritter a posthumous promotion for the sake of grandeur, “This was all before I discovered how easy it was to make money off of owning land, otherwise I’d probably still be out there. Miss the cannons too, had to skuttle those before anyone got a good enough look at how they worked. Damn, now you’ve got me all sentimental.”

“What about the smell of the sea and the wind in your face? Like the books say?” Applebloom pressed.

“We’re not that far inland, I can still smell the ocean when the wind blows the right way. I hear the call of the open seas now and again too, to take my place behind that wheel just one more time. Maybe I’ll get to someday, but I have ties here that I can’t ignore,” I replied.

“And the wind? I assume you get that craving allieved whenever you fly?” a new voice asked. A voice that sent a chill down my spine.

“Yeah, that was never a really important one to me,” I replied with a shrug.

“So who were you then? What lie of a name did you use?” Luna continued.

“I was a minotaur then, going by Hugo the Red,” I answered, catching Mac and Applebloom share a look that promised a trip to Twilight’s library for the full story.

“How many ponies lost their lives at the end of Hugo’s sword?” Luna pressed as she circled the tree I sat against. Between that and the look in her eyes, it almost felt like being adrift and in the sights of a particularly nasty shark.

“Six hundred and twenty-nine, if you count the ones I ordered and those that sank. Slightly over a hundred otherwise. Best Defense can claim twice that and Jekyll has tens of thousands,” I retorted as I stood up and squared up for a fight.

“Heh, don’t be daft. I’m not going to start a fight I can’t win, not at this distance anyway,” Luna spat before taking a single step back, “But I see now why it was so easy for you to kill another thirty yesterday.”

“No, that’s not why. I kill because it’s what I am, what I have to be. You’ve known that from the beginning, yet you only care when it’s pony lives being lost,” I rebuked.

“I’m only responsible for the pony ones,” Luna snapped.

“Then you should be applauding me, because-” I attempted.

“Thousands will be saved, incompetent leaders, blah, blah, blah, I don’t care. There were other ways to handle that,” Luna interjected.

“No, there weren’t. Not without giving the survivors a clear vision of what war looks like, not without making it clear to everyone what real war looks like,” I refuted with deadly calm.

“Bah, you’ll never understand,” Luna huffed as she turned away.

“You don’t think I understand? Have you forgotten everything I’ve told you? I watched my home die, Luna. I’m just doing my best to keep you from knowing what that feels like,” I responded more softly.

Luna winced before finally relenting, “I...I can’t agree with that, but I’m not naïve enough to blindly ignore your reasons. Nor can I win this fight. Truce?”

“I smell an ulterior motive,” I noted suspiciously.

“It astonishes me how honest you nose can be when your mouth lies so often. Yes, there are terms to this truce,” Luna confessed.

“Name them,” I prompted.

“Just one. You do better than that hollow description of your time at sea. I believe we’d all enjoy a swashbuckling adventure to take our minds off our troubles for an afternoon.” Luna decreed with a hint of a smile. It would seem that Tzu had done better than I’d expected before leaking my location to the mare.

“Two things first,” Mac interjected, “If the privateers are gone then why are there still armories? And the tree still needs to come down.”

“Tradition has even more sway on the sea than it does here, the name will likely never change,” I replied as I sent a swarm of tendrils to scour the infection from the tree. It’d still need to come down, as the conditions that caused the fungus to take root were still present, but I thought it should get one last harvest before fate called it home. I thought for a moment before voicing my thoughts, “Hmm, where to begin with this one…”

It was a calm day, at least as far as the weather went. A mere six clouds in the whole sky, waves no bigger than a foal’s hoof, and an easy breeze. I’d ordered the oars out to make up for the lack of power from the sails, not that it mattered. We were two days ahead of schedule and could’ve afforded the rest.

Six miles from port. Six mere miles from finishing the delivery and cashing out for some well deserved fun in Baltimare. You’ll find this story in Twilight’s library, it’s called ‘Nine Miles In Tartarus.’ The book really doesn’t do it justice, or even get much correct for that matter.

They came a little after midday, Torn Sail and his entire fleet. Twenty ships in all. He was mad that I’d wrecked his pathetic excuse for a blockade the last time I’d been in the area. He was a right bastard in his own way, having refused to sink a single vessel during his failed embargo of Baltimare. His goons boarded every one of them and slaughtered the crews, but took the officers for ransome. In those days, only ponies born to aristocratic families could become officers. When the families didn’t pay, he sent pieces of their kin back in little boxes. I learned of his methods after the battle, but he remains one of the very few that I truly enjoyed killing.

I never learned where they came from, just that the lookout started screaming as we were finishing our lunch. By the time I made it out onto the deck, there was a veritable forest of masts heading our way.

“Captain?” one of the rowers asked as he wrenched his gaze away from the rapidly approaching wall of death.

“Lower the sails, pull in the oars, and someone fetch me my bloody sword!” I roared before they had the opportunity to even think about panicking. In an instant, they were scrambling about the deck to make my demands manifest. My sword belt was in my hands barely a second later, prompting me to grin at the crew as I strapped it around my waist. Even if the odds were slim, I needed to be the definition of confidence, “Well, what are the rest of you waiting for? Prepare to repel boarders! Arm yourselves! Let’s show these limp dicks what a real crew looks like!”

In retrospect, I should’ve waited before telling them to ready themselves. That quarter-second of chaos cost us the lead sail.

“Archers!” the lookout shouted just before a hail of arrows fell upon the ship. The first of the three masts tock the brunt of the attack, with it’s thick sail ensnaring the arrows meant for my crew. The lookout had no such cover and dropped to the deck with sixteen arrows peppering his corpse. On any other ship, this would’ve roused a cheer from the others. Big Sky, the lookout, didn’t have any family to inherit his money, causing both his balance and the double share granted to those that died on voyage to return to the rest of the crew. They kept silent because they knew I wouldn’t tolerate any celebration, to break this rule meant forfeiture of their earnings at best and a keelhauling at worst.

“Damn, they’ll pay for that,” I snarled before turning sharply to ascend the stairs that lead to the wheel. I was conflicted about what strategy to take, as turning sidelong would allow for a lethal broadside but erase the cover of the sails. I opted to take her straight in, even ram one of the enemy vessels if I could manage it. Her prow and keel were the stuff of nightmares, solid steel and serrated for good measure. The Carbonaro, she already had the name when I got her, didn’t have a ram. I’d removed it in favor of driving the ship onto my enemies and sawing them in two. It even worked once out of every twelve tries.

“Captain, we can’t handle this many,” my helmspony tutted nervously. He was no coward, but we’d never faced odds like this before. I understood his trepidation and spared him the verbal lashing I nearly released on reflex, instead I cracked a wry smile and set our course towards the largest of the enemy vessels.

“Ready weapons, we’re going in hot!” I shouted, nearly cackling. I had nothing to shout over, but it helped put the crew in the right mindset. Our going was slow, especially now that we were down a sail. Slow but safe from their arrows as long as enough of the front sail remained to keep them at bay.

The enemy ships had their oars out, making up for the lack of wind with their muscle. Good for them, better for me. More of them on the oars meant that there were less that would be combat capable.

It took over an hour for them to close the distance, an hour that widened my grin with every minute. I’d watched them cycle the oarsponies, tiring another set each and cutting down on their abilities even further. We were still outnumbered and outclassed, but I’d happily take any advantage they offered.

They thought they had us made, they were so close to being right about that. The frigate I had chosen to ram over an hour ago had more going for it than just being the largest. It had a single flaw I could see from that distance. A flaw I exploited.

When our ships collided, instead of the rams deflecting off one another and offering a perfect opportunity for boarding actions, as I was sure they were anticipating and the reason they hadn’t moved to avoid me, my ship climbed their ram and cut deep into the deck. We nearly cut the ship in half lengthwise before they took enough water to allow us to fall off the aft. One flaw, their bowsprit had broken off and hadn’t been replaced.

One ship down and we hadn’t fired a single shot, though with a laugh I decided it was about time we changed that.

“FIRE AT WILL!” I roared over the screeching of wood on steel and the screams on the pirates we’d just sunk. The next half-second deafened everyone on deck for both my ship and those that were too close to escape our wrath. Forty-six cannons went off almost at once, shredding no less than three of the other vessels and sending them to the seafloor with their flagship. Six more were flagging but still capable, not good enough for me to count them out just yet. Four down, sixteen to go, and a full minute before the cannons were ready to fire once more.

“Captain? What are we going to do?” the helmspony asked. A stupid question. We were the only ship with weapons of that magnitude, they’d have to ram us to bring us down or board us to take the ship. They definitely wanted the ship.

“Draw your sword, we’re going to have guests,” I instructed as I followed my own command and hopped the railing to land on the main deck. As predicted, two of the undamaged vessels pulled up on either side and began disgorging a mix of earth ponies, gryphons, and the occasional minotaur.

“Get your own bloody ship, ye bastards!” my bosun slurred around the haft of his ax as he met the first wave on the starboard side, cleaving the first pirate to touch my ship in two. I tipped my head in his direction to send reinforcements while I moved to secure the other side until the cannons could ready another round.

The pirates on the port side actually stopped dead as I strode towards them, my reputation causing them to collectively rethink their entire lives. They only broke from their stupor once I had crossed to their ship and relieved the nearest of his head. They could’ve swarmed me, overwhelmed me with sheer numbers. They didn’t, they circled me and tried to knick me to death with little cuts whenever they saw an opening. A cautious approach for sure, but a flawed one.

I feigned openings for them and quickly executed whichever was stupid enough to take the bait. I threw a handful overboard as I recall, though I kept it to those that lacked the ability to fly. I was a bit too caught up in the fight, caving in the skull of one minotaur I punched in the nose. The others broke after that and dove overboard, apparently deciding that the sharks were better company.

The last of the other pirates were backing off as well, having lost more than they were willing to part with to my much more rested crew. They refused to call off the boarding however, instead maintaining their ground on their vessel while we did the same. Shame for them, there were none aboard my ship when their’s ceased existing. One minute. Time simply ran out for them.

Two shots rang out from the port side cannons, seemingly an afterthought to remove the pacified vessel from the field. Smart, it would cut down on confusion during the remainder of the fight. I made a note to grant whoever called those shots a double share when we finally made port. If we made port.

Fourteen left. Ten of mine dead on the deck, thirty remaining. A poor trade.

Our little display granted us a nice bit of respite while the remaining ships tried to guess how many broadsides we had left. It became a mind game, I halted our firing to conserve ammunition and make them guess that much harder. The answer was ninety, ninety cannonballs remaining. Less than two full broadsides, at least in storage. Our guns were all loaded with another ninety-two rounds. I’d never anticipated needing more than six full barrages to make my point, and any more would severely cut into our hauling capacity. Four then, we’d need to make each shot count.

Or kill their admiral, that would send them running and likely end their entire band. What few made it through their power struggles wouldn’t pose much threat to us at least. I just had to find Torn Sail and bury my sword in his heart. He was a slippery one, never taking his flagships into battle. I knew that by reputation alone, I’d have to hunt down whichever sloop he was hiding on and bring it down.

“Target the little ones, single shots only,” I growled as I thought about how to proceed. The sloops posed little threat to us, having only five crew apiece. However, it would cause Sail to hide behind the cover of one of the larger ships and reveal his position within the floatilla. Or die in the opening salvo, that was a possibility too. The best possibility.

Ten more ships died by that order, fifty pirates killed by seven words. This confused me, those were all of the sloops and the rest of the fleet weren’t backing off. The four brigantines remained to keep us from Baltimare. Torn Sail was a slippery one.

“He’s changed tactics, he knew we’d target the sloops. He’s on that ship,” I declared, fixing my gaze on the one brigantine the others now moved to defend. He was scared of us now, we’d fended off his attacks and killed more than he’d expected.

“What are your orders Captain?” the bosun asked, his ax still in his grip and dripping with warm blood.

“Their escorts and flagship is down, Torn Sail is holding out on the chance that we’ll rush in to finish this,” I noted, more to myself.

“So we finish them with the cannons?” the bosun predicted.

“No, we rush in and finish this. Ready all guns, I want to eliminate two of those brigs and cut the middle one in half. Then I’ll face Sail myself and make him pay for the lives he’s taken today,” I corrected. I knew it was what my enemy wanted, but I wanted it too.

By my order, we pressed forward. Our guns were ready, our minds keen on the victory we could almost taste, and our steel thirsty for more pirate blood. They were evidently out of arrows as well, as they didn’t fire a single shot as we approached. Then Sail sprung the trap we had so happily sailed right into. In retrospect, the lack of incoming fire should have tipped me off. There was no way they were out of arrows. The calm seas also belied their strategy, as any considerable chop would’ve rendered their ploy obvious and easily countered.

I knew Sail had three flagships. I should’ve been more attentive to the fact that we’d only sunk one. Instead our first warning came when our own bowsprit crumpled and we abruptly halted in the water, throwing myself and the rest of the crew forward. The massive galleon that appeared before us with a slight shimmer, not unlike the heated air above a stove, had missed its fatal ram and crippled our own ability to do the same. I could feel water entering my beloved vessel through cracks in her underbelly, though my dedicated crew would repair those without prompting. I returned to my hooves just in time to be thrown back to the deck as another galeon appeared and nearly tore off the aft third of my ship.

I could’ve cried, there was no way we could repair that kind of damage this far out. My ship was dead, only held aloft by the grace of the two pirate vessels pinning her between them. Two pirate galleons, ships that wouldn’t be missed. Ships that could be commandeered legally and kept.

“Alright boys, new plan. Hooks out, grapple that bitch there. Make her keep us afloat!” I hollered over the groaning superstructure. That got them back into the fight, a solid plan to keep fighting. A chance at seeing tomorrow.

Harpoons went out, lines were tied, and the pirates on the significantly larger ships began swearing at us to get off. I believe I recall being called an overgrown barnicle at least two dozen times. I didn’t care about their insults in the slightest, they’d be dead in a moment anyway. I had a ship to avenge.

Sheathing my sword and taking another in my teeth, I began climbing the ship we’d so rudely turned into a lopsided catamaran. The pirates aboard took exception to this and threw everything they could over the side in an effort to shake me off. I ended up having to dodge barrels, swords, and whatever else they could find in their effort to dislodge me. One got the bright idea to fire his bow over the side and caught me in the shoulder, though we all know how very little that means. Hugo however, he was mortal as far as anyone knew and this caused me to nearly fall back to the deck.

The pirates cheered as I was forced to let go with my injured arm, though they stopped when I grunted in determination and continued climbing. More arrows found homes in my body, though I ducked my head so they caught in my back and could be passed off as shallow flesh wounds.

There were no cheers or curses when I hauled myself onto the deck and took a sword in each hand. My once regal coat, the symbol of my station as captain, was torn and bloody. Holes had been cut by both enemy blades and splinters from my own dying ship, sections had ripped away entirely, caught on bits of refuse when I had been flung about the deck by the collisions. Indeed it was barely fit to be a dishrag by the time I made it to the main deck of the galleon. I looked every part the savage, a being made of rage and Tartarus bent on revenge for his crippled ship.

I was on them in an instant. My crew couldn’t see me from this height, the other galleon was busy with its own problems, and the brigantines were much too far away. I could tear into them without the limits imposed by my identity as Hugo the Red. The first, a gryphon that looked much too young to have been on the ship for more than a month, didn’t have time to do anything more than follow the path of my sword as it ran through his eye and out the back of his head before plunging into the heart of the unicorn behind him with a single downward thrust.

I snapped the blade with a single violent twist and threw the remains into a minotaur that had been among the ones on deck. The blunted leading edge slipped between a pair of ribs and punctured his lung, dropping him to his knees in pain just in time for me to catch the meat of his neck with my other sword as I brought it around to decapitate the other battlemage. With their unicorns down and no other spell casters in the bunch, they made an effort to flee. I did not allow this.

Tendrils caught them and dragged them back to me as Hugo’s now empty right hand exploded into a vicious claw. Those that saw this tried everything in their power to resist the fate that came for them, prying up deckboards or digging furrows as they struggled against that destiny all living things eventually meet.

I took another look around to ensure my secret was safe and saw what had the other galleon so preoccupied earlier, it was listing dramatically and threatening to capsize. Glancing further down, I saw the entry wounds of twenty-three cannon shells, I’d been so occupied with this one that I hadn’t even noticed my crew cutting the bottom out of the other ship.

I made another mental note to chastise whoever had ordered a full broadside for that, anything beyond five shells was a waste of ammunition.

“Yo ho fiddly dee, why do these pirates keep coming at me? Don't you know it's bad for your health, your life is made of more than just wealth,” I sang to the dead as I made for the wheel.

“You did not say that,” Luna declared firmly.

“Yes, I did,” I retorted in the same tone of voice.

“Bullshit,” Luna replied.

“Language,” Mac complained with a look towards Applebloom.

“I really did say that,” I affirmed.

“And I've seen how melancholy you get during a fight, you wouldn't sing for the sake of singing. Thus, I don't believe you,” Luna elaborated.

“Anyway…”

As I was saying…

“If you're not going be honest, you might as well not tell the story at all,” Luna continued crossly.

“Is it that difficult to believe? Am I not allowed to have one group I don't have to feel guilty about killing? Pirates are scum, always have been and always will be. The world is better without them,” I retorted, feeling my temper rise.

“And changelings are any better?”

“That wasn't guilt, it was disappointment. I was hoping for a challenge.”

Where was I? Right, I'd just taken the wheel.

So there I was, helming a ship twice the size of anything I'd ever touched before. To put it bluntly, that monster turned like a refrigerator in a field of molasses. On the upside, I now had two ships they really didn't want to sink. I would've laid a claim right then and there if it had been equipped with a crane. As it stood, I wasn't able to move our haul to the more intact vessel.

I'd just have to break through with what I had left, a feat much easier said than done. Particularly since I couldn't be sure when the rest of the galleon's crew would wisen to the fact that they were leaving formation and investigate. Seventy more pirates right then would be disastrous, provided the vessel was operating with a full crew. Spoiler, it was.

Our luck finally ran out just as I was about to call Sail's bluff and either force him out of the way or under my much larger keel. The worst possible moment to hear some pirate below me say, “Alright you go up first and these bucks will be right behind you.”

To make matters worse, a decent portion of my crew was finishing the transition between vessels and setting up the galleon's defenses. I couldn't cheat.

“Oi, Butterball! Sword me!” I shouted at the first crewpony I saw, getting a pair of swords thrown at my face in response. Interestingly, the second sword came from Grilled Cabbages. Why he threw his blade at me was a mystery I never got the opportunity to solve. Regardless, I ducked and caught both of them. I'd had a fair amount of practice doing this maneuver as it was a trick we occasionally did in pubs that didn't know us to score a free round.

These pirates proved to be just as dumb as the rest, only pausing for a moment when they saw me standing at the top of the only stairwell before blindly charging at the scary minotaur that was already littered with the arrows of their crewmates.

I was surprised when I killed the first two without even moving, the mass of bodies pushed them onto the points of my swords. I had to drop the both of them and tactically acquire another set when I couldn't pull the previous set out fast enough.

There was no finesse to this fight, just wild swings in as many directions as possible as fast as possible. Normally this succeeds in beating the enemy back and gaining enough room to control the fight and swing the odds in my favor, however the press of the other pirates just kept pushing them in. I ended up breaking that pair of swords and scooping up another set before the fight ended. That was the only time a sword had broken in my hand without me directly causing it.

I should mention that I didn't win the fight, it ended when our ship hit something and sent me flying out of the stairwell and sliding across the deck.

“REPORT!” I roared before I had even regained my footing.

“We're caught on all three brigs, they tried to stall us and got tangled,” Grilled responded before an arm came over the side of the ship, followed by a knife wielding gryphon attached to said arm. Grilled Cabbages was dead and over the side before anyone had a chance to stop it, and my answer died with him.

The gryphon got one of my pilfered swords thrown through his neck before he could celebrate his victory at least, so there's that.

“I want ten holding the stairs, I'm ending this shit,” I ordered, getting more than a few odd looks at the arrows protruding from my shoulders and back, “I'm fine, hold the stairs.”

I wasted no time hopping the rail and dropping onto the deck of the first brigantine. Thirty crew per ship if fully crewed. Ninety total. Ninety to one was nothing as long as they didn't do another blind rush and push me over the side.

They did another blind rush and pushed me over the damn side of the ship. I took ten of them with me though, so they fell short in that particular trade.

At this point, I was more annoyed than angry. They'd pushed me off the deck and into the ropes binding the four ships, tangling me in the process. It took me three minutes I couldn't afford to cut myself loose and return to the deck. I could see my crew valiantly keeping the pirates from scaling the galleon, but I also saw three of them die. Fourteen of my crew were dead, plus however many had fallen holding the stairs.

“SAIL! SHOW YOURSELF!” I roared as I brandished my swords.

“Hugo the Red is actually fighting fair? Is it my birthday?” Torn Sail sneered as he walked out of the cabin of the ship opposite me. A triple bluff then, hiding on one of his own screening vessels.

“Twenty to one. Ninety to one. I don't care, we're going to settle this today,” I promised.

“Yes we are. Shoot him,” Sail ordered, prompting a single archer to fire one arrow at me. He must've thought I was weak and tired by then, he was right. I'd spent a lot of energy during the fight and hadn't been at full strength to begin with. I was still capable enough to deflect the arrow with a flick of the blade in my left hand, though the angle was wrong for the cool redirection into one of his pirates that I'd tried to do.

“No arrows, I have enough of those already,” I replied with a grin as I tapped some of the projectiles protruding from my back and shoulders.

“Pure bravado, you're half dead already,” Sail asserted.

“Then I'm half alive, more than enough to end you,” I countered, drawing the attentions of the pirates that were supposed to be retaking the galleon. One got the bright idea to drop onto me for a surprise attack, though seemed to forget that he wasn't supposed to yell the entire time. His stupidity caused me to sidestep him and remove his head with a single motion.

“So it seems you have more in you than I thought. Kill him,” Sail ordered without raising his voice. I had every advantage this time, they were too far away to rush me and I had plenty of space to move around. Torn Sail just stood there with a smug look as the remaining pirates descended on me.

“Last mistake,” I commented just loud enough to be heard over the screaming pirates before I moved. My swords sang as I twisted and cut through the first row, then hopped over the second to break the backs of two more while also stabbing another pair. Now they couldn't push me around and I could just run them out. Sailors are a very perishable resource and dry up quickly when given bad orders.

As expected, they backed off when they realized that not one of their dead fellows had managed to touch me. Not particularly surprising, earth ponies aren't much good in a swordfight. They don't have any reach and just holding the sword blocks their view, not to mention how they expose their necks when they swing. Meanwhile I had these things called arms, which allowed for a much greater range of motion without putting vital areas in danger.

It seemed like my luck was finally turning around, the pirates had gone on the defensive and were backing towards a more concerned looking Sail while I stalked towards them. They deserted when they couldn't back up any further, jumping the rail and making to swim for the shore. Then I was alone with Torn Sail, who stood frozen in disbelief for a moment before fumbling in his attempt to draw his fancy sword. He tried to run after I lazily reached over and cut his belt, sending his sword clattering to the deck. A thrown sword through his leg ended his flight after a single step, leaving him at my nonexistent mercy.

“You broke my ship,” I stated as I grabbed him by the throat and tore him off of the sword, all but severing his leg below the knee.

“What are you?” He demanded fearfully.

“Your nightmares made manifest,” I replied while dragging him towards the mast.

“Look, I'm sorry about all of this! I'm sure we can come to an understanding, I'll pay you whatever you want! I'll work for you, help you build a fleet instead of just one ship! I'll do anything, just please don't kill me!” Sail begged.

“I'm not going to kill you,” I responded as I wrapped a well chosen rope around his neck and tied it off.

“You're not? You're just taking me to prison?” Sail reasoned, his relief clear in his voice.

“No. Gravity and this rope are going to kill you, pirates get hanged,” I corrected before yanking down on the other end of the rope and propelling Sail up the mast. He struggled for a long time, a result of me not tying him down as tightly as I should have, but that mattered little after I tied the rope off and walked away from the dying pirate.

It took us almost a full day to get the massive clusterfuck of ships into the harbor, longer still for the Baltimare authorities to round up the surviving pirates and root them out of every hiding space on the galleon.

The conversation I'd had with the guard captain that came to investigate when we lashed to the pier is worthy of making it into this story.

“Would anypony care to explain what I'm looking at?” He demanded indignantly.

“Doesn't look like it, that right is usually reserved for the captain,” I snarked as I landed on the dock, my coat still in tatters and my back littered with arrows. We'd gotten a few out, but it was slow going and there were more important things to worry about.

“Explain yourself,” the guard ordered.

“You said anypony, I'm a minotaur. So nopony is willing to explain, but somebody is,” I replied, getting a few laughs from my crew.

“Keep it up and I'll have you in irons,” the guard threatened.

“I doubt that, the papers would crucify you. Privateer captain ends pirate reign of terror, arrested for rudeness. Fantastic headline, wouldn't you say?” I mocked.

“Fine, would somebody explain what this mess is doing in my harbor?” He relented.

“Did you miss the massive battle just over there?” I asked.

“I heard it, sure. Are you saying you're survivors from that?” He pressed.

“Survivors? We bloody won mate, we're fuckin’ champions of the sea!” My bosun shouted.

“Torn Sail hangs from the mast, his fleet now sails below the waves. I am Hugo the Red, privateer and terror of pirates the world over,” I introduced with a flourish that would've looked even more pretentious if I'd still had my hat. I hadn't noticed that it had flown off until the battle was over, didn’t really care either.

“Iron Sentry, captain of the local guard regiment. I can't say I've ever heard of you,” Sentry replied.

“Ask around. You'll need to watch the coastline for survivors and search the galleon here, more than a few either abandoned ship or are otherwise unaccounted for. If all goes well, you should be hanging pirates for the rest of the week,” I informed him, all but ignoring his implied question.

“You truly expect me to believe that you and your crew singlehoofedly took out a pirate fleet? I think it's more likely that you're pirates trying to slip into my city,” Sentry demanded. I could tell he didn't believe that but had to try every narrative anyway.

“My papers are in my cabin, one of my crew will search the wreckage for them,” I allowed, causing him to look at the remains of my ship as it clung to the galleon like a parasite.

“Have you laid a claim on these vessels?” Sentry asked, convinced enough to drop his act.

“Verbally, I'll need to do the paperwork once we finish here,” I replied.

“It can wait until after you've seen an apothecary,” Sentry suggested.

“I was actually thinking of leaving them in, makes me look more fearsome,” I responded sarcastically, “But really, they're barely through the skin. I believe there's another issue you're neglecting?”

“Dock fees? Forget them, I don't want to even try figuring out how many spaces you're taking up with this mess,” Sentry guessed.

“Much obliged, but I was referring to the bounty. What was Torn Sail up to?” I corrected.

“Fifty big shines and a kurk,” One of my crew replied.

“Fifty thousands bits for his head, another ten if he's already dead,” I translated.

“What was that language?” Sentry asked, distracted by the nonsense.

“Pubwalla,” the same crewpony replied.

“He's drunk,” I clarified.

“Uh, okay then. What was that number? Sixty thousand bits? That'll take time for me to get. I'll have to report this back to Canterlot headquarters as well,” Sentry responded, going slightly pale at the figure.

“I'll drop in tomorrow morning to give my statement,” I replied, “I think my crew wants to celebrate seeing today at all.”

Sentry nodded and stepped out of the way as the fifteen surviving crew members disembarked to limp after me towards the town.

“Alright boys, we have a choice to make,” I announced after two hours of solid drinking at the nearest bar. They'd earned it as far as I was concerned, our official business could wait until we were finished honoring our dead.

“How to spend all the money were about to make?” One crewpony cried, raising cheers from the rest.

“Do we repair the Carbonaro or move everything to the galleon?” I asked, silencing their ruckus.

“The bigger broadsides and more storage would be good.”

“More crew space as well, means we can get in and out faster.”

“Yeah, dedicated oarsponies so we don't have to break our backs in calm seas.”

“I don't like it, that thing seems like it would just invite trouble.”

“It couldn't turn for shit.”

“We could fix that, I heard from a guy about a new rudder that works a lot better on big ships.”

“Can we afford that?”

“We could if we did a few runs with the galleon and took a pay cut,” I allowed.

“How about both, we could run both ships as the start of a fleet.”

“No, I can't watch over both ships. I'm no admiral, I'm a captain,” I responded.

“Then take your pick captain, which one do you want?” My bosun replied.

“So which one did ya choose?” Bloom asked.

“Maybe you'll find out someday,” I teased.

“Tradition is more important on the ocean than on land, he kept the Carbonaro,” Luna guessed.

“How sure are you?” I asked.

“Quite, it's the only way the numbers match. Forty-six guns on three decks, you would have added more if you got a bigger ship,” Luna replied.

“You were listening for longer than I thought. Yes, I kept my frigate and sold the galleon,” I allowed.

“To some miserable jerk that paid to keep it maintained in dry dock,” Luna continued.

“Get out of my head,” I warned.

“I'm not using magic, I just doubt that you would cut ties with something as valuable as the open ocean,” Luna pressed.

“Ships are a massive expenditure, I'd be hard pressed to maintain one back then. Buying one would've been completely out of the question,” I retorted, “But I did sell it to someone who did just that.”

“Lucky guess then,” Luna allowed, “One question though, why was the bounty higher if he was dead? That seems to be the opposite of what I'd heard.”

“Some criminals are politically connected or are otherwise hard to convict, it's easier just to prove that they're dead. Prince Torn Sail would be a perfect example. Or more relevantly to the current age, if Blueblood started murdering homeless ponies,” I answered.

“Would you collect that bounty?” Luna asked. I recognized the trap, but walked into it anyway.

“You're damn right I would, I'd drop his head on your sister's desk. Murderers don't get to step within sight of my nieces,” I replied instantly.

“Except you,” Luna countered.

“Obviously, though whether what I do can be called murder is up for debate. Some might point out that murder means an unlawful killing, but all of mine can be classified as acts in accordance with the rules of war or part of local ordinances,” I pointed out.

“War? What war? Against the Crystal Kingdom? That was a thousand years ago,” Luna protested.

“Never surrendered, no treaties, no formal end of hostilities. Technically speaking, the war is still on,” I replied.

“That is an intensely problematic statement, it makes you a hostile invader at best and a subversive agent at worst,” Luna pointed out.

I simply stared at her until she dropped her head and sighed.

“I'm a fool. I already knew both of those were true,” Luna relented.

“Then you'll stick with the choice you've already made?” I mused.

“What choice?” Luna asked.

“To side with the lesser evil and stick with me,” I clarified.

“That's not a choice, I have nothing else,” Luna protested.

“Sure you do. You have your health and an effectively unlimited amount of time to build yourself up. I highly recommend getting into land, it's quite a lucrative business,” I countered.

“You really want me to say it? Fine. I need you for more than a roof over my head and gold in my purse. I'm angry at you for what you did, but I still love you,” Luna seethed.

“For that part, I apologize. My intention was never to upset you or add to the conflict in your life,” I offered, hoping the olive branch would be enough.

“I suppose that'll have to do. Apology accepted,” Luna allowed before noticing that the Apples had left at some point. I hadn't noticed them leave either, my only clue being when Luna looked around for them.

“Shall we go home then?” I suggested.

“Let's walk, I have a feeling that I'll get buried in paperwork as soon as we arrive,” Luna responded, a slightly sheepish tone entering her voice.

“Sounds good to me, it's such a nice day after all,” I agreed despite knowing full well that it was scheduled to rain in less than ten minutes.

“So,” Luna began as we set off in Abaddon's general direction, “How much of that story was true?”

“All of it, though I left out some parts,” I replied honestly.

“Such as?” Luna prompted.

“The fact that Torn Sail was a pegasus, a bastard, and the real way I killed him,” I listed.

“Something juicy I take it? Unsuitable for young ears?” Luna guessed.

“Remember how I said I hadn't wrapped his neck tight enough? He was able to use his wings to steal breaths, which he then used to call my mother a whore,” I began.

“You did much the same to them, it doesn't seem like much of an insult given the context,” Luna commented.

“True, but it was the principal of the matter. So what I did in retaliation was go below deck to find myself a decently small herreshoff anchor, then I went back on deck. Sail never would have guessed what that anchor was for, at least until I cut him down and forced the entire anchor up his ass. Strung him back up by the anchor afterwards. It was very gruesome, even by my standards,” I concluded.

“The whole anchor? Why would you even think to do that?” Luna demanded, aghast at the mental image I was sure she was now haunted by.

“Well you see, there was this song on my world that was just perfect for the situation and it popped into my head at that moment. It's called ‘Fucked With an Anchor,’” I replied, grinning widely.

“Please never do that in my presence, just the thought is turning my stomach. In fact, let's never talk about Torn Sail again,” Luna requested.

“Sure,” I allowed. After a few minutes of awkward silence as we walked, I decided to have a little fun, “~Fuck. You. You're a fuckin' wanker. We're gonna punch you right in the balls. Fuck. You. With a fuckin' anchor. You're all cunts so fuck you all.~”

“You are the biggest asshole to ever walk Equis,” Luna declared, snickering.

“Aye,” I agreed, losing my grin when a torrent of rain chose that moment to fall on our heads. I covered Luna with a wing without thinking about it, but left myself in the downpour. The rain abruptly halted a half second later, though that was an easier mystery to solve. All it took was a glance to see the shield Luna was projecting around us to ward off the rain. Why it had been instinct instead of conscious effort that had lead to the wing over Luna was what dominated my thoughts.

“You have a look,” Luna commented.

“My face didn't move, I don't do looks unless I want to,” I countered.

“You still have a look,” Luna rebutted.

“Fine, I'm concerned,” I relented.

“Is it the southern border? Tzu had another idea of how to handle that,” Luna guessed, offering me a perfect excuse until I figured myself out.

“Did he? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, that is his primary function,” I replied.

“Job,” Luna corrected, “Calling it a function makes him sound like a machine or spell.”

“Sore spot?” I assumed.

“Pet peeve, yes. Tia said it a few too many times for my liking,” Luna admitted with no change in tone.

“I still don't believe that she's any different,” I stated, thankful for another change in subject. I really didn't want to talk about myself at the moment.

“I do. I think I have to. It doesn't mean I forgive her, but she's better than she was before and we're being followed,” Luna responded casually, so casually that I almost missed the warning at the end.

I halted abruptly and turned around on the spot, “It's generally unwise to stalk me, doubly so for one that can send you into orbit with a thought.”

“Subtle,” Luna deadpanned.

I scoffed and returned to my previous path when the figure revealed itself. I wouldn't call our shadow harmless, but I seriously doubted that it was looking to fight either of us.

“You really ought to keep him on a tighter leash,” I chided as Luna caught up to me and resumed our pace.

“Fang? I forbade him from hurting anyone that didn't pose a direct threat,” Luna protested.

“I did the same thing, then he mauled Trixie's mom and made another survivor for me to feel guilty about,” I snapped more harshly than intended.

“Stop it, what really has you so on edge?” Luna demanded.

“I. Don't. Know,” I growled dangerously, intending to force her into recognizing that it was a subject I didn't want to talk about.

“How about we skip the part where I pry it out of you and you just tell me what's wrong?” Luna requested, “And drop the scary demon guy act, I'm just a little past that by this point.”

“I held a wing out for you.”

“So? That's pretty far from being a big deal.”

“I did it without thinking about it.”

“Again, so?”

“I consider every action, every shift. Growing a wing and holding it out for you should have at least crossed my mind, given time for judging the best size and angle for it at least,” I explained.

“That sounds really annoying, but I wouldn't worry about it. I'd assume I was simply growing on you,” Luna chuckled, still not understanding what I was trying to say.

“But it isn't me, that's not how this works. I don't grow limbs without effort, it requires the moving and configuration of biomass, allocation of resources, cost versus benefit analyses, things like that. I do not shift on instinct,” I insisted.

“Cost versus benefit?” Luna repeated, disbelieving.

“You want an example? Here. I use all of the weapons in the game my body came from except one. That being the hammerfists,” I began, flooding my hands with biomass to demonstrate and weighing them down enough to make me hunch, “I don't use these because of the easy target they make me. I'm slower and it presents an easy target to wreck as much of my mass as possible with little effort. Shoot one of these with a cure bullet and you'll knock out two fifths of my entire mass. Potential cost is much too high, I'd rather carry a hammer instead.”

“I guess that's a fair point,” Luna admitted, “But I still don't understand why providing me with shelter bothered you.”

“You're messing with me,” I stated.

“I am indeed,” Luna confessed with a sly smile, “I believe your instinctive movement is related to the other changes you're undergoing, along with sleeping.”

“Good enough for now, I'll put it on the Sierras’ list just to be sure though,” I allowed, hoping she was right.

A knock on the shield stole our attention, directing it towards a sopping wet and scared looking enforcer. Luna let Fang in right away and ushered him to walk with us.

“What's wrong?” Luna asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Many dangers, not safe for you here,” Fang insisted, seeming terrified of something. I readied my claws just to be safe, but doubted there was anything out there. My guards did not get days off after all.

“Jay?” Luna asked, now mirroring Fang's fear.

“Gamma?” I asked in turn, prompting an enforcer to emerge from behind a nearby tree.

“Nothing but bugs and the occasional squirrel, no threats of any kind,” The Gamma replied before looking up and cracking a joke, “Except pneumonia maybe.”

“See! VINDICATION! MAny dANgERs here. Need to go home, SAFE there!” Fang declared. He sounded and looked even more unhinged than usual.

“Fang, are you afraid of the rain?” Luna asked sympathetically.

“Mmhmm,” Fang whimpered.

“Please don't encourage him,” I sighed, placing a clawed hand to my face in embarrassment. I should have guessed as much, declaring war on the rain was par for the course when Fang was involved.

“Settle down Fang, the rain isn't bad,” Luna chided, taking a somewhat hard stance on the subject.

“It is BAD, it attacks you. You defend against it, see?” Fang insisted, pointing at the shield.

“It isn't attacking us, we just don't want to be wet and cold,” Luna countered.

“He's not going to understand, all he sees is you using a combat spell,” I pointed out, causing Luna to reconsider her argument. Fang didn't seem to notice that I was there or acknowledge my words, so the advice didn't throw him off in the slightest.

“I...No, I'm not having this argument. Fang, you are to deal with this fear and remain silent until we get home,” Luna admonished sternly, making the centuries old murder machine flinch and move to follow behind her like a child that had been caught misbehaving.

“Good work,” I praised as we resumed our trek.

We walked in a somehow more uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until a seemingly innocuous bird call sent Fang and I into a defensive posture, much to Luna's confusion.

“What is it now? Are the birds evil too?” Luna asked in exasperation.

“No birds,” I responded curtly.

“No calls in the rain, it's a warning,” Fang added, sounding lucid. I'd thank my lucky stars for that timing later, once we had dealt with whatever was approaching.

Both of us stood down when a familiar yellow pegasus stepped out of the bushes.

“Why the hell did they call a warning over you?” I asked as I reformed my hands, “That's supposed to be used for dangerous things.”

“I-I can't say, maybe because-” Fluttershy began before something fast impacted my head. I heard Luna's scream of pain before my hearing cut out. It took me an eighth of a second to puzzle together what had happened. I had been struck with a cure bullet, one that had shattered the basic shield Luna had been projecting. I'd been hit in the forehead, placing the trajectory well off Luna's left side. Her pain must have come from magical feedback instead of a real wound. My pain was much easier to figure out, I'd just had a hundred pounds of biomass poisoned and killed by that bullet.

My head reformed in under a second, but that had been plenty of time for Fang to dart forward and grab Shy by the throat.

“Hold,” I ordered as I approached the pair. I had clearly been the target, inclining me to let Luna defend herself, “What were you going to say?”

“Something has my animal friends scared too,” Shy concluded in a voice that was somewhere between a strangled croak and a terrified squeak.

“Let her go, it was a shot of opportunity,” I instructed, causing Fang to unceremoniously drop Shy onto the mud, “That was a bit harsh, I said she wasn't involved. Sorry about him, he's batshit insane. Come with us, we'll get you cleaned up.”

“Oh, it's okay, I really don't want to be a bother. Especially after I got you shot and everything,” Shy responded meekly, though it was clear to the whole world that she wanted away from this place more than anything else.

“You good Lu?” I asked as I motioned for Fang to gently collect Shy.

“That hurt a lot, I don't think magic is on the menu right now,” Luna complained as she returned to her hooves and brushed some of the mud off of her side from when she'd fallen over.

“Backup plan then. Fang, give me a wall,” I responded as I gathered my stolen power.

“Where are we going?” Shy asked nervously.

“Our vacation home, nothing to worry about,” Luna replied with a grimace, her horn was smoking slightly and was clearly bothering her.

“You mean Tartarus? I'm so sorry for getting you hurt, please don't take me there,” Shy pleaded as she scrambled to escape from Fang. I already had the portal open by then and Luna was stepping through ahead of the rest of us. Shy had her eyes shut tight and didn't seem to notice me taking her from Fang and bringing her through to the warmer locale.

Fang simply nodded and removed the wall, trapping himself on the other side. I knew where he was going and expected to find the spine of the sharpshooter on my desk when we got home, he wouldn't be Fang otherwise.

“Please, demons are so scary. I don't want them to eat me!” Shy wailed.

“Fluttershy, I highly doubt they would do that. At least the ones we employ,” Luna insisted.

Harry was just opening the door to greet us when he froze, “You, I know you.”

“Yes Harry, I'm your boss. It would be weird if you didn't know me,” I snarked.

“Duh Boss, of course I know you and your better half. I meant the little one, that's Fluttershy. The Fluttershy,” Harry gushed as he hustled to a spot ten feet away from the mare in my arms.

“I-wha-EEEEEK A DEMON!” Fluttershy squeaked as she fought harder to escape. I was forced to let her go before she hurt herself, allowing her to sprint into the corner and shiver in fear.

Harry moved to maintain the distance and crouched to seem less imposing, “Hello Fluttershy, my name is Harry. I've heard a lot about you from our mutual friend.”

“Damnit Sweetie Belle,” I cursed as I led Luna to the nearest sofa and sat down next to her to watch the show. Bringing Shy hadn't been ideal, but she was a target of opportunity as well and it would have been a major hit to national morale if that shooter had gotten her.

One of the maids brought Luna an unrequested drink, which she promptly poured on her own head before asking for another.

“Please don't eat me,” Shy begged piteously as she tried to shrink even smaller.

“I wouldn't dream of it. Kindness is something very rare down here, the amount that was shown to me when I escaped is something I treasure very much,” Harry responded quietly. Shy opened one eye just enough to see the demon before her and clamped it shut as soon as she got a look at him, “I know, I look scary and my head is on fire and all that stuff. Do you know what I did when I lived on the surface?”

“No,” Shy squeaked, but at least she didn't flinch this time.

“I made vegetable kebabs, I'd set the sticks on my horns and let the fire cook them right on top of my head,” Harry chuckled.

“I remember that. You're Jekyll's friend, from the Crystal Kingdom? You're that Harry?” Shy asked, her eye opening again.

“That's me,” Harry confirmed with a soft smile, “I promise you that you're safe here, no one will hurt you.”

“L-Luna?” Shy stammered.

“He's a ripper type demon, they don't know how to lie,” Luna replied as she poured another glass of water onto her steaming horn, “I don't suppose I could get another? And something stronger for my headache?”

“What's a ripper?” Shy wondered as she finally stopped shaking and started to leave her corner.

“The embodiment of what you would call wrath, there's a reason we're the first thing that comes to mind when you think of a demon. We are usually the ones to cause a great deal of suffering and death during an incursion, at least under the previous king. Lord Jekyll doesn't approve of that, so we don't break through and kill people anymore,” Harry answered honestly, sending Shy back into her corner.

“Couldn't you at least omit some of that?” I sighed.

“No,” Harry replied. When Shy refused to move or speak further, Harry moved closer until he was sitting against the wall next to her, “I thought I enjoyed those fights, all that bloodshed, but I found true happiness pushing that simple cart around the city and making children smile when they saw the funny demon with kebabs on his head.”

That got Shy's attention once more, prompting her to sit up and look at him without fear, “You really can't lie? You really liked to cook more than fighting?”

“I'll never understand you other races and your aversion to the truth, it doesn't make any sense. Even now it makes you question everything, I see no point to it,” Harry laughed.

“But you might hurt someone with the truth if it's bad,” Shy argued. I doubted that she believed what she was saying, but Harry was no stranger to skeptics.

“Then they are hurt, that isn't the fault of the truth. Metaphysical concepts cannot be responsible for pain, nor are the ones who speak it,” Harry responded simply.

“Would you list all the wrongs you have done? Even if it cost you your friends?” Shy pressed.

“I have done nothing that was wrong at the time that I did it, the king of Tartarus decides those things. By the current law, I am a mass murderer and scum of the highest order. My crimes by your law are uncountable, murder was my job and I was quite good at it. Now my job is to do a great deal of paperwork and see to the daily operations of Tartarus, I'm quite good at this job as well. I could spend the rest of your mortal life listing everything you would call a crime and feel no shame because there is no shame in honesty,” Harry confirmed.

“Wow, your convictions are made of iron aren't they?” Shy commented.

“Indeed,” Harry chuckled as he patted her shoulder, causing her to flinch at the unexpected contact, “Sorry, old habit.”

“No, it's fine. That was a lot softer than I'd expected from someone so big,” Shy allowed, prompting Harry to return his hand to her shoulder.

“I promised that no harm would come to you,” Harry responded simply.

“So you did. Are you sure the others here will be so nice?” Shy asked as one of the maids approached them. Shy didn't try to hide this time and accepted the glass of water she was offered.

“Dear, the only others you'll see are my sisters. We don't do the whole fighting thing if we can help it, not really our style. I'm Mop by the way, big fan,” the maid replied with a smile before hurrying off to her next task.

“This place is a lot nicer than I was expecting,” Shy confessed.

“Only the best for my guests,” I declared as I propped my feet up and settled in.

“That's all there are? Just a few demons?” Shy asked in confusion, recognizing that this was counter to my previous descriptions.

“That you will likely see during your stay. You will probably encounter a guard if you wander away from this room, or another member of the staff if business comes up, but neither of those are particularly likely,” Harry corrected, “You will see too many demons if you somehow leave the palace, and they will kill you before the air can eat your lungs.”

“What was that about the air?” Luna asked suddenly.

“Chill, I fixed it when we came back inside. Takes days of exposure anyway,” I responded before anything could come of the comment.

“So aside from waiting for my feedback sickness to pass, why are we here?” Luna wondered.

“Killing time while Fang kills our attacker, and using that time to get cleaned up. Both of you ladies are covered in mud,” I pointed out, causing Luna to look at the mess she'd made on the sofa.

“Ah, will this clean easily?” Luna asked.

“I have no idea, I employ people for that,” I replied.

“I suppose that's fair. Fluttershy, have you ever been washed by another? It's quite relaxing once you get used to it,” Luna commented as four of the maids appeared from wherever they'd been listening in from.

“Bathing? With others? Oh no, I hated that in flight school,” Shy protested.

“I assure you that we are professionals ma'am, there will be no locker room tomfoolery here,” one of the demons declared.

“Says the worst gossip I have ever met,” Luna teased as she stood from her seat, “Sorry about the mess, I forgot all about the mud.”

“Don't worry about it my queen, a little surface mud is nothing to concern yourself with,” a different maid assured her as both of the ponies were led away, one looking much less comfortable with the idea than the other.

“When the fuck did Lu get a bath here?” I asked once they were out of earshot.

Author's Notes:

So yeah, I'm still alive. I know how long it has been and can only offer endless apologies and thanks for the support. I haven't burned myself out or anything, life just found a way to get annoying as hell for the better part of a year. Short version, I have moved all of my belongings four times since the last chapter was posted and helped organize a lawsuit at the same time. While dealing with fraud and identity theft.

Yep, life sucks and then you die.

But now everything has calmed down some and I can actually find the time and energy to OPEN MY LAPTOP AT ALL. So yeah, short short version: I'm back in business y'all.

Eric's Editor's Note:
IT LIIIIVESSS!
* Ominous lightning *