Laud nodded in an upwards motion towards the monitor. "Let's see it."

"Of course." Gregor slid the disc back where it came from originally, and it began to play. "As you can immediately see, the distance is considerable."

"Unfortunate..." Laud pondered silently if the culprit had done that on purpose, working on a wall not too close to either ship. Still... "There." A bit of movement. It was maddeningly small on the screen. He could barely see more than something moving.

The angle was right. They had caught the right part of the wall they had found the debris and that the line of detonation had led towards. "You can't make it any larger?"

"If we were watching this as it happened, perhaps." Gregor lifted his shoulders slowly. "But, after the fact..." He made a spreading gesture with his hands, the computer following the motion and zooming in, just showing larger ugly pixels. "I don't think this helps greatly. I apologize, truly. If I could do more--"

"--I Understand." Not exactly that, but he felt sure Gregor was speaking the truth. "Ah ha..." The blob seperated enough to see several of them moving up there instead of one indistinct mass. There was enough space between one and the next to confirm they were seperate things. They seemed to be moving randomly until they fell or jumped down off the back of the wall. "Stop."

The image stopped. "Can you go back very very very slowly?"

"One instant at a time." Gregor bowed towards the screen and made the subtle gesture, bidding it to step back one frame, then the next, playing time backwards.

"They were... wearing cloaks, or they had tails." He pointed at where trailing pixels gave the impression. "That rules me out, not that anyone suspected me."

Gregor turned a jovial smile, one of his specialties. "You must be feeling better, Good Sir, to make such a jest."

"This is still invaluable evidence." Laud stood, his stance firm. "Three. There were three figures. They saw the explosion, and fled. They did not do it in an organized manner, which makes me think it was not a merchant or one of yours. I respect both highly enough to imagine if they wanted to commit this attack, they would not act like bumbling fools suddenly when nothing was approaching them."

Father inclined his head faintly. "I pray my children would not launch such a craven deed, but if they had it in mind, they should act with the calm of the pancreator himself, not a panicked fleeing of the scene as we see here. I suspect the hair--"

"--What hair?" Laud turned on Gregor, suspicion in his eyes.

"Come now, Good Sir. We are in this together, and I asked the merchants. You did not pay them for privacy." Gregor spread his hands in a gentle show of impotent harmlessness. "Still, I imagine that hair will be of pony origin. It makes sense, looking back on it. I hadn't pieced together that they had fled in a panic."

"Different eyes can make the difference," spoke Laud in slow and purposeful words, thoughts turning in his head in a jumble. "What did you see, before I made my conclusion?"

"I confess, I did not think to watch the way they moved, small and indisctinct as they were, but now that you have brought it up, it seems crystal clear." He brought his hands together with no clap, clasping them gently. "They did not move as if gathering things. It was a moment of random movement before fleeing. This is... a lamentable situation. Poor pony."

"Poor..." Laud's right hand fell limp, his left cutting across suddenly. "I remind, those attackers, ponies or otherwise, nearly killed a merchant man."

"And had no idea that would happen." Gregor dipped his head. "They are wayward children, fleeing with a bloody knife, scared and crying. They know not what they were doing, but have witnessed the effect. I feel certain in this."

"Such a talking to," sighed out Laud, imagining Mayor Mare chastising whoever was responsible. "Father, humor me. What do you think they expected to happen when they set off explosives?"

"Your wife was one of the victims, was she not? She is not hospitalized. She is not even sent home." He spread his fingers but kept his palms touching. "Neither pony present was more than dazed. If all of them were ponies, what harm would have been caused?"

Laud imagined it, replacing the merchant man with another pony. The explosion rips apart the area, sending all three sprawling in ungainly heaps, but then they'd all get back up, dizzy but unharmed. "A practical joke, gone too far."

"Exactly as I see it. The poor things are likely hiding somewhere, praying to whatever local force, their princess perhaps? That their prank will not cost them too dearly. Like the cherubs they resemble, inhuman and terrible, they know not the frailties of mortality at times, and we are the mortals among them."

"Genius!" He suddenly slapped down a hand on Gregor's shoulder so hard his guards suddenly stepped forward, swords starting to slide from their sheathes.

Gregor raised a halting hand immediately, a carefully held smile on his face. Even as his guards drew back into idleness, he laughed at Laud. "To what do I owe this compliment?"

"You've just told me how to find them. Everyone's been here, and we've been tracking their comings and goings. The ones that left went over the wall. Either they came in and didn't check back out, or they never went either way. Since the entire town seems to have taken the time to come here today, we just have to look for three names not listed. As soon as that hair is confirmed to be of pony origin, that is."

"Very good, very good..." He tapped his fingers as he began to amble across the room, playing up a doddering little friar, innocent and jovial. "I do pray you are not too harsh on them when you find them. They are already hurting themselves, I should imagine."

"You too?" He turned for the door, looking ready to get back to action. "Thank you, Father, for finding that video and sharing it. I will see justice is done. If they are ponies, it will be pony justice. I have not earned the right to impose my own on them in their own kingdom, but it must satisfy that injured man and his colleagues or there will be other prices to pay." He marched from the room, eyes shining with renewed determination.

Gregor watched him go, tapping his fingers as he turned back towards the console. "Without sin, no creature alive can exist entirely in this state, but they dance close enough to make one forget at times." He dismissed the guards to have a moment to himself. It was a learning moment, he decided.

"Have you seen a dragon?" asked Spike, fluttering over a few merchant's head.

"At least one," one replied with a smirk.

"Besides me." Spike rolled his eyes. "A bit larger?" Their words were being loyally translated by the collars they all wore. "Blue, not purple." He gestured over himself. "Probably had a big fancy gun on her back."

"Oh! Her. She is a her, right?" The man seemed not entirely certain. "She has the voice, but that's hard to nail down when a dragon makes noises like a horse at you."

Spike let out a slow breath. "She is a she and she better not hear you wondering about that. So where--"

"--And you are a boy dragon?" Eyes went to where evidence of that normally resided, but there was nothing there to easily confirm the fact.

Spike didn't even seem to get what they were looking at or for. "Yes? Now where did you last see her? It is my duty to protect her."

One of them snorted out a chuckle. "Well we wouldn't want to keep the boy dragon from protecting the, uh, lady lord."

"No, you wouldn't." Spike frowned at the two of them. "If I need to remind, I am a squire of Laud Mountbatten."

Their stances subtly straightened, the levity fleeing them. One pointed across the market. "She was browsing on the second aisle."

"Thank you." Spike left them, grumbling softly to himself. It bothered on some level that he had to name drop his teacher to get respect with some people, but still... at least he had that option. "Baby steps..." He had to move like a knight and speak like a knight and carry himself like a knight. People would begin to treat him like one as he became one, or so he hoped. It had been working with the ponies for the most part. That was a good, if odd, feeling.

There was Ember, turning this way and that in front of a mirror. She was not as naked as Spike. She wore her gun on her back, smiling confidently as she turned, showing off the fabric that hung from her form. "Shiny, pretty, but looks awful for doing anything in." She prodded one of the empty hanging cloth bits at her chest. "Comes with pockets though, that's nice." Not like she had any flesh to put in them as a human woman might.

The salesman had the good sense to not correct her on that point. "We can have those reinforced, if you plan on anything heavy."

"Mmm, maybe, but-- Hey."

"Hey." Spike landed beside her. "Doing some clothes shopping?"

"Did you know they can make fireproof threads?" She lifted her shoulders. "Costs more than the other stuff, but they say it can stand anything. I could go lava swimming in the stuff."

Spike rubbed behind his head, imagining that. "Huh, impressive. Would it, uh, let someone who isn't a dragon do that?"

Ember burst into laughter even as she stripped off the dress. "No. They'd make funny noises and burn and then there'd be a bit of clothes floating on the lava."

The salesman coughed into a hand. "Humans who wish to approach lava typically wear much more serious protections, and aren't trying to look good at the time. This is more for people who work in hot places. Smelters, foundries, and things like that. You can look reasonable and not have your clothes catch fire as you do things."

"Sounds useful." Spike nodded softly, looking over the selection a moment before he remembered. "Oh yeah, you alright?"

"I'm shopping." She jingled her less-full bag of coins. "Almost tapped, but I'm feeling pretty good about it. I even got some gifts to bring home. Not like I was the only one that paid the price of these coins. Figure they deserve something, ya know?"

"Hey, that's great." He clapped his hands together before his eyes wandered to a hanging blouse. It had no great frills or billowing things. It was simple, but its bold reds and yellows... "That one looks like it'd really make your scales stand out."

Ember blinked dumbly before reaching for the blouse he pointed out. She held it out, comparing her arm against it. "Huh... not bad. When did you learn about fashion, Spike? You're full of talents I don't know about."

Spike laughed nervously, not daring to admit he had learned much of color coordination from his time helping Rarity. "I have a bit of an eye for that. Try it out. It looks like it won't get in the way of stuff."

"Nice and simple, but still pretty." She threw it over her head and wriggled into place, it hanging off of her a little oddly with her spines and inhuman configuration. "It's about the right size, but--"

"--Think nothing of it," cut in the salesman. "If you like the look of it, we'll get it tailored to your exact needs. It'll fit you like a glove."

She flashed a wicked smile. "You humans sure know how to make a buyer happy with their buy."

"Purchase," suggested Spike in a stage whisper.

"Whatever. I'll take it." Ember held up her money bag. "Shopping is a hobby I never knew I'd like until today."

Author's Notes:

Turns out, Ember was just fine, shopping in style! Also turns out Spike knows some style tricks. How useful!

Written early for patreons who got this ahead of everyone else. Want to get early chapters, or even your own story written? atreon!

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