The amorphous clouds formed strange shapes—sentinels without form, guardians without definition—around the moon. Like a mother’s embrace of a newborn, the clouds seemed to cling to the moon as it rose into the sky, and it rose a ruddy, almost bloody, orange. The loaded cylinder of Blackbird’s revolver sat on the table before her, and she began to take apart the rest of her weapon. The Foalsitter was no mere revolver, but a cannon, a relic from another time, another age. It’s ninety-calibre bore was terrifying to behold, a black void held within ebony-black iron. It was a magic wand that performed only one trick, but that one trick was done well.

Abracadaver! And lo, a dead body would appear..

With a brush, she applied oil to each moving part, each hinge, each pin; her talon-fingers seemed to move on their own, with her paying very little attention to her task. She was swift, nimble, coordinated, and her companions around the table took notice. The night was alive with sound, causing ears to prick and heads to turn, looking for strix or other dangers.

“Who taught you to do that?” Gesundheit asked while his eyes lingered on Blackbird’s swift-moving talon-fingers.

“My mother,” was her calm reply, and she gave a sidelong glance to the pegasus beside her. “She put her big guns away, but kept a number of smaller sidearms around. I didn’t start my adventure with this gun, but I have it now. Somebirdy tried to find a new way to skin a cat, and I took exception to his efforts.”

“I too, take exception to things.” Dim took a sip of tea. “I am not a fan of bandits, for example.”

A unicorn mare brought out a tray loaded down with bread, cheese, and the various fruits of the forest. She put it down on the crude wooden table, nodded to Gesundheit; then with a smile, she took her leave, departing to go indoors where it was safe. Being outside at night was dangerous; the sensible remained behind locked doors and secured windows.

“You have something in common with my mother,” Blackbird said to Dim, and she had some faint awareness of the coldness in her voice. Given what had happened to her father, she herself had no pity nor remorse for anything done to bandits or raiders. “She taught me how to shoot. I think she expected me to become like her, a protector. I don’t mind hunting, but I’m not keen on leaving others a bloody mess.”

She watched as Dim levitated a slice of bread and a slice of cheese. Even though she said nothing, she was worried, because in her opinion, her companion didn’t eat nearly enough. It scared her a bit, because she needed him to be at his very best if they were going to find her mother. At the moment, there was an odd sense of calm about him, which seemed out of place to her, given what he had planned.

Glancing over at Gesundheit, she asked, “So, how does a pegasus get named Gesundheit, anyhow?”

This made the chestnut brown pegasus smile. “I’m allergic to clouds. No, really, I am. I get near them, and I start sneezing. It’s so bad that I can’t fly through them. My parents had to leave Cloudsdale, and I reckon that’s a good thing, probably saved me from the fascism that’s taken root there. I grew up honest, kind, and sensible on the ground. I hate to say it, but I’m the impressionable sort. Might be why I became a druid.”

Chewing, Dim turned to study the pegasus, and behind his goggles, his eyes could not be seen. Blackbird’s eyes lingered on Dim’s pointy ears, which weren’t covered at the moment. His ears… those ears. They were distinctive and unique. When Dim was done chewing, he swallowed, and she heard him say, “Sometimes, it is good for us to leave our home...”

For a moment, it appeared as though Dim was going to say something else, but after a few seconds of waiting, it seemed that nothing else was forthcoming. In the faint available light of the oil lantern burning overhead, Blackbird began to reassemble her sidearm, The Foalsitter. Gesundheit too, began eating, and there was a loud slurp when he bit into a green apple.

“By Luna’s light,” Dim muttered, more to himself than to his companions, “I am almost enjoying myself. I can’t recall feeling this way… ever. ‘Tis a strange calm for one so damned as myself.” He took a polite bite of his bread and cheese, his lips curling away from his teeth, then chewed in what appeared to be thoughtful silence.

Eyebrow arching, Blackbird glanced over at Gesundheit, only to find him looking at her, and he too, had one raised eyebrow. There was worry on the pegasus’ face, a genuine, sincere worry, and she could see pain in his eyes. His compassion for a stranger moved her, made her feel something within her breast, and gave her a much needed reminder that there was still good in the world. It was easy to forget that sometimes, after visiting Tortoise-Tuga or Cloppenburg.

“Why did you come here?” Dim asked once his mouth was empty. “Why come to this place?”

“Me?” Gesundheit looked a little surprised to be asked this question. “Equestria had many healers already looking after its needs. The Heliophant told us to go out and find the bad places in the world, for it is not the healthy or well-tended who need a healer. I wandered for a short time, and then I found this lot. Refugees. They wanted away from sin and vice. We settled here.”

Hearing this, Blackbird nodded. “This is a good place.”

“I worry that, with growth, this place will become like any other.” A sad, but still somehow hopeful smile flashed on Gesundheit’s muzzle. “I’ll do my best, but I know in my heart that this place will probably grow beyond what I am capable of pruning.”

“This is why we need responsible nobility.” Dim’s ears pricked upwards, and the inward facing points almost touched. “Such is the way of things. The trick, it seems, is finding good nobles. Alas, I know not where to find them.”

“There is great reform in Equestria, or there was when I left.” Gesundheit eyed his apple, looking a bit morose, and he let out a sigh. “The nobles were being restored to rule and the ponies rejoiced. A new order was being established, but I don’t think anypony quite knows what this new order is, just yet. A new form of governance is emerging.”

“I have only read a little bit in the papers,” Dim remarked while Gesundheit took a bite of his apple. “A new feudal contract. More protections and guarantees offered by the Crown, in return for more service from the peasantry. Centralised government hasn’t quite worked out and the peasantry longs for a return of localised fiefdoms. The entire world watches.”

“Indeed it does,” Gesundheit replied around a mouthful of apple.

“I don’t understand much of what was just said.” Blackbird hated her own confession, her admission of ignorance—it made her feel a bit stupid—but her companions didn’t seem to think any less of her. Relieved, she replaced the cylinder into her revolver and locked it into place with a satisfying click. She smiled her best smile, raised her revolver in salute for but a moment, and then stuffed it back into its holster.

Meanwhile, Dim had finished his bread and cheese. “I am going for a walk…”

Dim was gone and worry began to gnaw upon Blackbird. Sitting at a table on a wooden balcony high in the trees, she felt a little useless at this moment. She doubted that shooting the lake monster would have much of an effect, and Dim was going in alone. What if he failed? What if something happened? How would she find her mother without him? How would she save him?

“You seem worried.”

“I am,” Blackbird admitted, and she hated the feelings that rose up within her. She felt like a foal again, a little, ineffectual, helpless foal, and she loathed this feeling more than anything. There were butterflies—no, not butterflies—there were parasprites in her stomach, swarming around and devouring her from within.

“I think your friend has a good chance. He’s made a whole batch of harpoons and he and the blacksmith have secured those to barrels to be used as floats. It’s a smart plan, if somepony can get in close enough to do what must be done.” Gesundheit’s eyes lingered upon the platter of food, but he reached for nothing.

“So, about that sad sickness that you mentioned—”

“What about it?” Gesundheit asked.

She thought of her mother before she continued—“can it be cured?”

The first reply came in the form of a shrug done with both Gesundheit’s forelegs and his wings. Then the wise pegasus began to speak: “Sometimes. Maybe. Not every creature recovers from it. Just like the body, the mind too, can be hurt. Lasting harm can be done. It rarely if ever fixes itself on its own, and to cure it you need a healer. Somepony like Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Empress of the Crystal Empire. I have heard it said that she can cure anything… heal any wound of the mind, body, or spirit.”

“He”—she paused, hesitating with what she had to say next—“is a tortured soul. Like my mom was. My father, he healed my mother. I don’t know how, he mighta done it by just existing, but he set her straight. Maybe this princess coulda helped my mother too.” Blackbird closed her eyes and then thought about the faces of her parents, images burned into her memory.

“I see another tortured soul,” Gesundheit said in a gentle whisper.

Opening her eyes, Blackbird turned her head and stared at the pegasus beside her.

She was about to say something, maybe even something a bit rash, but the night sky over the lake lit up with a bright flare of light, illuminating the area. She lept from her seat with a flap of her still-folded wings, and in a single bound, she was at the railing. Squinting, leaning against the railing, she peered in the direction of the lake, hoping to spot Dim.

What she actually saw took her breath away. Something monstrous had surfaced in the lake and she could see tentacles writhing and waving about. She saw flames, and the source of these flames was Dim. He was tiny and small from this distance, but she could see him. He was blinking around in bright flashes of magic, popping in and out of existence rapid-fire.

The largest explosion that Blackbird had ever seen happened, and a pillar of roiling fire rose from the lake while unfolding like a scroll. The sound was deafening and the shockwave struck her so hard that it was like a slap. All of her skin stung—as though she had a sunburn—and tears flowed from her eyes because of the sting. Her vision blurred and she gripped the rail with her talons, refusing to turn away. The pillar of fire was still rising, still growing, still blooming, and the heat from it washed over them in waves.

“That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Gesundheit murmured while he took his place beside Blackbird. Then, perhaps as an afterthought he added, “The lake is on fire.”

“Yeah, that happens. He set the ocean on fire the first day I met him.”

“So much destructive force… and yet, even the volcano serves the will of Terra Firma. I will not be afraid, but shall instead show reverence.” Gesundheit bowed his head a little, but kept his eyes on the lake.

Her claws dug into the rail while her stomach did flip flops. So terrible was her fear that Blackbird forgot that Dim was her best chance to find her mother, and all she could think about was Dim’s own safety. He was still blinking around down there, sometimes even blinking into existence into the open air over the lake, and somehow not falling into the water before he blinked away again.

There was a hissing sizzle of magic and then Dim was right there on the balcony. Blackbird screamed, she couldn’t help it, she screamed just like a scared little filly discovering there was an actual monster beneath her bed. Wood splintered beneath her claws as she dug into the rail, squeezing with her terror. When there was no more air left in her lungs, she sucked in a wheezing, ragged inhale to fill them, then she shrieked again for good measure; this one helped her recover her damaged feminine sensibilities.

Shaking, Dim shuffled over to a chair, and Gesundheit moved to help him. Blackbird recovered her senses after a few panting breaths, and then she too, was at Dim’s side. The shaking was bad—she had never seen anything quite like it—and she wondered what was wrong with him. Had he been injured? Poisoned?

“It is done,” Dim said through teeth that clattered together. “The beast cannot submerge.”

“How can I help you?” Gesundheit asked.

“The blood sings from battle and I have foolishly conditioned my body to expect coca and opium.” Dim gritted his teeth for a moment, and his paper-thin lips curled back in pain. “This body still wants…”

“I understand.” Gesundheit’s voice was soft and the pegasus stallion just stood there, his ears drooping, and there was a profound expression of pain that could be seen upon his face.

Reaching out, Blackbird plucked Dim’s hat off of his head, and noticed that it was bone dry. He hadn’t even gotten wet when fighting the lake monster. She reached inside, fished out the silver case that held his cigarettes, opened it, and pulled out a nail. Dim, perhaps anticipating her actions, had already pulled out his silver cigarette holder, and it now floated in front of her face.

She pushed one end of the joint into the holder, and then held it out to Dim, who took it. The long silver stem hung from the corner of his mouth, bobbing up and down while his teeth clenched together. There was a flicker of flame, and then the end of the spliff glowed a cherry red. She was rewarded with a faceful of smoke for her troubles, but she didn’t mind.

“With the floats in place, the creature will exhaust itself. When the dawn comes, the sun should finish it off.” Gesundheit returned to his seat, sat down, and rested his forelegs upon the table. “Baumhaus owes you a debt of gratitude.”

“Wait until dawn,” Dim responded, and curls of smoke crawled out of his mouth like seeking tendrils. “We shall see if my plan works and if the floats hold.”

Turning her head, Blackbird looked over in the direction of the lake, which was still burning. An island of flames floated in the water, and faint, keening cries of anguish could be heard. She understood the battle that had just taken place, the quickness of it, the suddenness. Every second spent fighting was a second exposed to risk. A chance for something to happen, to go wrong, for the plan to fail. Dim had gone in, lured the monster to the surface, engaged it, weakened it considerably, and had stabbed it with harpoons.

Time and sunlight would finish what Dim had started.

Again she turned her head, this time to look at Dim, and he was just inches away from her muzzle. His breathing was heavy and she could hear something rattling around inside of his barrel. It worried her, that sound, and without thinking about it, she reached out and touched him. He jerked away for a moment, a confused expression on his face, and then, puffing his cigarette, he relaxed. Blackbird persisted, and began smoothing out his cloak. It had been a fine, fine fabric once, but now it was rather ratty and threadbare.

“The Heliophant says that the art of combat is to minimise risk.” Gesundheit let out a nervous chuckle, and shook his head. “I’m not sure I believe that. The Heliophant takes extraordinary risks when he goes into battle, and from what little I know of him, he doesn’t really plan. He just improvises as the situation demands.”

“I’ve had to improvise,” Dim wheezed as he struggled to calm himself. “I prefer planning. I am… frail.” He took an enormous toke and then with his nostrils flaring, he held it for as long as possible. When the need to breathe overtook him, the blue smoke came out in a vast, billowing cloud that reeked of sweet cloves.

Sniffing, Gesundheit’s eyes narrowed. “I did not expect cloves. Why cloves?”

It took several seconds before Dim responded, “The Grittish Isles damaged my lungs… the coal dust. I am frail and I grew up in a sterile environment. The dust, the pollution, the miasmas, they were hard on me. There was a retired ship’s doctor on Tortoise-Tuga. He was a drunkard, but he still knew medicine.”

“I see.” The pegasus pony sighed. “I am going to fix some tea. Perhaps that will help you. Something warm and soothing. Maybe Chancy has some leftover broth or soup.”

Blackbird, unable to resist, poked at Dim’s cloak with her talons, and the weak threads fell apart at her touch. She frowned—a feminine frown of intense disapproval—and then she said to Dim in a soft whisper, “When we reach a place a bit more civilised, I’m going to buy some fabric and I’m going to make you a new cloak.”

“You sew?” Dim asked, and she could see the surprise on his face. “You did not strike me as a domestic creature.”

A smile split her worried face, and her green eyes twinkled with merriment. “I actually prefer sewing to stealing and killing…”

Author's Notes:

Next chapter: a tranquil dawn.