“I have no idea why Blackbird was worried, because you seem fine.” Eerie sniffed and her teacup sloshed with the sudden movement. “Dim… the only thing I can think is that alchemical concoctions might work on you differently… due to the fact that you are not quite a pony. The fact that you have been altered might introduce some unintended side effects.”

Listening to Eerie, Dim did not look up from his mortar and pestle, but he nodded to show that he was paying attention. Her theory made an uncomfortable amount of sense. He thought back to the day he had left home, and how his mother had poisoned him. A tiny blackish-green leaf was dropped into the pasty mixture and the sound of stone against stone could be heard while he continued to grind.

“Dim, if I may say, you look unusually well rested. You must have slept well, and that’s always a good thing.” Eerie leaned in a little closer, almost to the point where she was peering over Dim’s shoulder at his work. “Something strange happened, I did sense something, but everything seems to be fine. I’m sure that it’s nothing.”

For something that was nothing, it sure had an effect upon him. Probably just a peculiar side effect. Lifting up some long-handled tongs, Dim focused a tiny amount of magic upon one end. These alchemist tongs were exceptionally long, made to be held at one end by magic with enough distance and damping across their lengths that the magical field would not contaminate the gripping surface. They required a delicate touch, but were critical to prevent anything from changing the final results of the alchemical process Even with the extended length, a unicorn had to mind one’s magic, lest one cause disastrous contamination.

Using the tongs with great care, he lifted a spider from a nearby glass jar, a fire widow, an arachnid that had a glowing bright orange hourglass on its plump, hairy abdomen. A curious creature, it spun silk that couldn’t be burned, but Dim had no interest in that. No, Dim wanted the spider’s venom, which made a creature particularly vulnerable to burning and fire, even creatures who might have been otherwise protected against flaming, fiery conflagration. He didn’t want his enemies resisting his primary source of damage, because such a thing would not stand.

“Dim… I don’t understand what you are doing. I’ve never seen such a recipe. What are you making?” Eerie was too close now, and brushed up against Dim’s neck, which caused his whole body to jerk a bit.

“Insurance,” Dim replied while his lip curled back into a sneer of annoyance.

“Delightfully cryptic. Insurance!” Eerie, perhaps realising that she was too close, took one petite step away, and continued to watch Dim work. “I’ve never even heard of some of these ingredients, Dim. I do hope that Istanbull’s alchemy shops are to your liking. We try to source obscure ingredients that do not require the exploitation of others. We’re trying new things. Exploring new options. An alchemical renaissance is taking place here, Dim. Perhaps you could teach some of our alchemists your secrets.”

“No.” Dim’s sneer intensified at the very thought of sharing his hard work and study.

“Dim… those dried blue caterpillars, they feast on poison joke and they are very dangerous—”

“I know.” Dim was amazed by his own patience and wondered how and why he had not snapped at Eerie. If it were anypony else, he might have set them on fire by now. Was this affection? Why this strange, abominable tolerance? It was disgusting and unnatural. “My use of them is very clever. If I mix them into a potion, they’ll cause instability and a wild number of side effects, but I have found a way to keep a tincture made out of their extraction separated from my poison. The caterpillar tincture disrupts and nullifies magical protections, allowing a second poison to take effect. It weakens the fire resistance of mine enemies.”

Eerie’s lips transformed into an intrigued pucker, and she leaned in close once more. “How?”

“Tiny slivers of metal,” Dim responded in a whisper almost as dry as old, brittle parchment. “I paint on a ring of sealant wax around the middle, and then apply the two different alchemical mixtures to both ends. In a fight that demands it, I can hurl a multitude of these tiny metal slivers at a foe and incapacitate them. They are useful for fighting unicorns, as you might imagine.”

“Wie hinterhältig.”

“Tatsächlich.”

“And the distilled poison joke tincture from the dried caterpillar helps to bypass magical protections, allowing the metal slivers to be effective. With enough thrown, one of them is bound to work. Chance is on my side.” Eerie stepped up to the table and peered down into Dim’s mortar. “The Equestrians would never allow for such weaponised alchemy. It would be verboten.”

“Kein Scheiß.”

With great care, Dim used an alchemist’s knife to open a seed pod, peeling it back, and allowing the pale green-yellow seeds within to fall into his mortar. A bitter, acrid stench filled the air, which made Eerie retreat. As for Dim himself, he was fond of this smell… it was the stench of future victories.

“I can also shrink the metal slivers with a spell, and they can be inhaled. Many of my foes have filled their lungs with the means of their defeat. It is taxing on me, but it is far worse to be dead.” Dim disposed of the now empty seed pod and began to grind the seeds he had added.

“Dim, when you are finished, we need to discuss some important issues. Perhaps over tea. You sound parched. For now, I must be going, because I need to find Jolie. Come and find me, Dim, when you are done.”

“Bestimmt.”

Mere moments after Eerie was gone, Dim had trouble concentrating. He was alone again, his prefered state of being… except that right now, it wasn’t. With a sneer of disgust, he had the realisation that he rather enjoyed Eerie’s company, and she wasn’t that bad of a pest. Blackbird could certainly be worse, but truth be told, he didn’t mind her company either and tolerated her incessant, endless questions.

Holding himself to task, Dim would finish his job and then go seek out Eerie’s company once more…

The door opened in silence and Dim stepped through the doorway. This was a room he was familiar with, it was Eerie’s prefered tearoom, and it was a small, intimate, cosy space that was always kept rather dark, not that he ever complained about that. This room was round in shape, had a somewhat domed ceiling covered in frescoes obscured by the everpresent shadows, and the walls had shelves covered in what Dim knew to be trophies of past victories. Helmets, bits of armor, battered, dented crowns, jeweled sceptres, and all manner of finery, all of which had been taken from their previous owners dying clutches or cold, dead bodies, as was the understood terms of surrender.

In the center of the room was a hexagonal table covered in a seer’s hexagram and it was around this cosy little table that Eerie had guests. Commodore Guillemot was spilled into a chair, relaxing, and appearing nothing at all like his formal, starchy self. In the faint, scant light, his dark pelt made him little more than an ambiguous pair of eyes hovering over a row of gleaming pearly whites. He puffed on a pipe of zebra make and eyeballed Dim as he entered.

Beside the commodore was Jolie—little, dwarfish, foal-sized Jolie—and Dim had entered when she was mid-laugh. Now, she had a reckless, perhaps even murderous grin, and she too watched every move Dim made whilst he approached the table. Jolie belonged at this table, given its occupants, Dim decided, and she fit right in. Being an earth pony made her no less dangerous and clearly, she had earned her captaincy.

When he drew near, he caught an intoxicating whiff of Blackbird, who was a bit disheveled. She stank of gun oil, of gunpowder, and of leather in the sun, the accoutrements of her chosen trade. Blackbird had a new bandoleer and she seemed quite comfortable in it. In her left talons, Blackbird held a teacup, and her right talons had white bandages around several knuckles. Dim worried—though he did nothing to show it—and eased himself down into an empty chair beside his wounded companion.

“So glad you could join us,” Eerie said while she busied herself with pouring Dim’s tea. “I found Jolie and she was catching up with an old friend. And then along came a Blackbird…” Eerie began tittering, a refined, polite sound, and she placed a square of pineapple-cherry cake on a delicate, square porcelain plate.

In response, Dim grunted and then took off his hat. He began to fish around inside of it, distracted, and pulled out several items. A fresh joint, somewhat moist with exotic oils, his cigarette holder, and four enormous brass ten gauge shells. These he set down in front of Blackbird, whose eyes went wide, and then he tossed his hat onto a sofa behind him without looking.

“Ooh, what a thoughtful gift,” Jolie said, her voice bubbling with laughter. “I told you, Blackbird, he’s a keeper. Diamonds might be a girl’s best friend, but they can’t keep you safe.”

“Dim, what do these do?” Blackbird asked while she set down her teacup and then picked up one of the ridiculously large shells.

“Keep them from getting wet,” Dim warned while he lit up. “For best results, fire into a crowd.” Satisfied with his answer, Dim turned his attention to Commodore Guillemot, and while studying the pegasus’ eyes, he asked, “And how is your young charge?”

Before responding, the commodore puffed on his pipe a few times, and there was a rustle of feathers as he shifted in his seat. “He is saying goodbye to his mother and his sister. You did him a kindness, Dim, and I’ll not forget that. Poor lad is still pretty shook up, but I dare say he’s happy about the outcome.”

“‘Twas no kindness on my part.” Dim too, now puffed, and he exhaled a flock of fleeing birds, all made of smoke. “But was justice that motivated me.” When a teacup was set down in front of him, Dim wasted no time. It was hot, somewhat citrusy, and the strong scent of vanilla was almost cloying. He pulled his cigarette holder from his lips and took the first sip, hoping it was cool enough for consumption. Try as he might, Dim could not contain the sigh of relief that escaped him, and that first swallow did much to satisfy his parched throat.

The clove oil killed the painful tickle that had plagued him for so long—and had been made worse with his recent injury—while the tea eased the dreadful dryness. Somehow, Dim allowed himself to relax, and he slumped over in his chair, looking very much like a worn out aristocratic vagabond.

“The world needs more justice,” Commodore Guillemot said while he too relaxed a bit more in his chair. “Istanbull stands out as a beacon during these trying times—”

“You say that because I pay your salary.” Eerie’s voice was teasing and she batted her eyelashes while she grinned at her guest.

The pegasus cleared his throat, puffed on his pipe for a bit, and then pulled his pipe away, holding the bulbous bowl in his fetlock. “That in itself is a justice. I’ve been able to keep my crew paid and active. They’re good sailors and I’d hate to see them lured astray due to desperation. These are troubled times.”

“Does the Crown not pay you?” Dim asked.

At this, the pegasus looked troubled and he squirmed in his seat. Beside him, Jolie’s smile vanished, and Eerie, a helpful, considerate sort, gave the commodore another slice of pineapple-cherry cake. Dim waited, sipped his tea, and beside him, Blackbird was stuffing away the brass shells into a pouch on her bandoleer.

“At this point, I’m not certain if there is a Crown.” The words pained Commodore Guillemot, and each of his words lingered as smoke. “A while back, there was quite a massacre. Two centuries worth of guardsponies went to a town called Shepherd’s Shore. Somepony called the Shade Lord or the Lord of Shades or some such nonsense… that was the day he set off his bloody rebellion. Slaughtered the guards… not so much a killing, no… he slaughtered them to send a message. From what I understand, he turned their armor into a boiling mass of liquid. The horror of it all defies description.”

Dim felt his blood freeze in his veins and somehow managed to hide his reaction.

“Since then, this Lord of Shades has been hitting us where it hurts. Massacre after massacre. Some of the Royal Families have been killed. Our Empire was left weakened after the collapse of colonial rule and now, everypony is fighting over what little is left. The Isles are divided. Civil war is brewing. Old families who suffered political slights or were outed, they see this as a time for revenge. We’re undone by past sins and mistakes.” The commodore’s eyes were watery now and the foreleg that held his pipe trembled. “The sun has finally set upon our mighty empire.”

Dim discovered that Eerie was looking at him—she was staring right at him—and even worse, he realised, she knew. For a moment, he panicked, though he did not show it, and there was a pain in his heart from the sudden anxious fluttering it did. If Eerie knew, why hadn’t she told the commodore? What game was being played here? Caring nothing of the consequences, Dim gulped some of his tea, and it burned all the way down. Was Eerie going to hold this over his head to blackmail him? If he moved right now, he might take her by surprise and kill her, but getting out would still be tricky. He had a hat full of tricks that might help, but he was tired, fatigued from working, and now was not a good time for a bloodbath.

Clucking her tongue, Eerie gave Dim a nod. “Darling, you look famished. Do eat your cake and try to relax a little, okay?”

The commodore, it seemed, had more to say, and he did so with great sadness. “I stuck to my mission and followed my last clear, concise order... establish good relations with Istanbull for the purposes of trade and goodwill between nations. It was part of the Celestia Directive. If the Isles could somehow establish a sense of goodwill and trust after the collapse of our colonies, we could gain prefered trading status once again.” The pegasus sighed, a defeated sound, and shook his head. “I don’t see that happening now, but I will continue following the last orders given to me.”

“And I will continue paying the salary of your fleet,” Eerie said in a voice of calm reassurance. “Dim, do try to eat something. Your condition is distressing.”

Jolie reached over—which, because of her short, stubby legs, it was a long reach for her that required her to shimmy her body—and she patted the commodore upon his foreleg, which rested on the arm of his chair. It was an odd sight, a pirate comforting a commodore, a naval officer that by all rights, should have been the pirate’s bane.

Trembling, Dim didn’t want to remember that day at Shepherd’s Shore. It was almost too much to bear. He had been so addled, so full of grief. Darling Dark had just died and he had witnessed the private grief of two sisters. It had been an accident and he had been confused. The sights and the smells of that day haunted him now, and the sounds… his ears began a mad dance as they pivoted to and fro, listening to the phantom sounds of butchery.

With nothing that he could do, and no means of escape, Dim began to nibble on his cake which now tasted like ashes upon his lips. Somehow, he managed to swallow some with the help of some tea, he took a few puffs on his joint, and then continued to eat the delectable treat that he couldn’t enjoy.

“Blackbird, you should show Dim the new toy that Jolie gave you.” Eerie’s voice had a thin veneer of aristocratic command and she made a gesture in Blackbird’s direction with her hoof. “Mind those tender knuckles of yours, darling. Punching someone in armor is a foolish endeavour, wouldn’t you agree?”

Flexing her bandaged talons, Blackbird shrugged. “I still coldcocked that smarmy bastard right into the dirt.”

“Darling, it was a training exercise.” Eerie tittered again—a sound that Dim found quite grating now—and she poured a bit more tea for Blackbird, as well as placing another slice of cake upon her empty plate. “He was supposed to get you to react, and I suppose you did. Though I don’t think anyone saw that dreadful suckerpunch coming. Now show Dim your new toy. It’s very exciting.”

Blackbird reached under her wing, fiddled around for a moment, and when Dim saw the cannon inches away from his nose, he almost choked on his cake. He coughed a few times, and cross eyed, he tried to focus on the gun that appeared as though it should be mounted on the deck of a ship. Even in Blackbird’s large talons, the gun appeared monstrous in size and the barrel was the size of a mineshaft.

“It is a little something I traded for with a dragon,” Jolie said, still patting the commodore upon his leg. “Gratin tried firing it once and it almost broke his talons. No one on my crew was strong enough to fire the damn thing. The dragons have started making firearms, can you believe that? It’s well made, too. Dragonsized. It’s a four bore—”

This time, Dim did choke, and he saw stars in his vision while the hunk of cake in his gullet made up its mind to go up or down. Sputtering, Dim felt the painful lump go down, and then he gasped to fill his lungs with some much needed air while Blackbird set the massive cannon on the table in front of him with a clank of tableware.

“—and the dragons somehow even got the rifling of the barrel right. Sorta. It’s accurate enough, I suppose.” Jolie pulled her hoof away from the commodore, flopped back into her chair, and didn’t seem worried at all that Dim was having difficulties breathing. “The dragons still have a long way to go before they’ve perfected weaponsmithing. I suspect that this was one of their finest pieces, and it was traded away so it would be talked about and admired. It’s just too damn big though, and too impractical for anybody other than Blackbird or some big brute.”

“I’m a brute,” Blackbird said in a singsong voice. “I’ve never owned a gun that fires a quarter of a pound chunk of lead before. Dim, Jolie gave me some shells that she calls grapeshot, but I don’t think there’s any grapes in there, though I do think there would be a lot of whining if I fired a grapeshot load into a crowd.”

When Blackbird began to laugh at her own joke, Dim had recovered enough to groan.

There was something on the barrel of the cannon, and Dim leaned forward to have a better look. Etched on the barrel was a boar—there were four of them—and it seemed as though dragons too, were enamoured with puns. Dim coughed a bit more, swallowed some of his tea, and kept looking at the terrifying weapon. For a moment, Dim’s eyes strayed towards Eerie, then the commodore, and then he gazed upon the polished nickel barrel of the fantastic portable cannon once more.

“Well…” Eerie’s sudden words caused Dim’s ears to prick upwards. “Now that we’re all here and comfortable, there is much that needs to be discussed about the situation in Fancy. I’ve had some updates about the situation and with greater understanding, the situation is far more dire. The Grittish Isles might already be gone, as darling Guillemot has mentioned, but we have a chance to save Fancy from suffering the same fate. There is much that needs to be said, so settle in, all of you, and I will tell you exactly what I expect from each of you.”

The commodore, confused, shook his head. “Why am I here for this?”

“From you, I need a distraction,” Eerie replied in a voice of cool, calm, command. “Don’t worry, it is nothing that will besmirch your sterling reputation. In fact, you will be viewed as a hero once this is done. You have a fleet, but I am going to give you an armada, and you are going to liberate the former colonies of Fancy from the rule of pirates and slavers. You will offer no quarter, I demand this. There are no conditions of surrender. I require obliteration, I need an example made, you see.”

The commodore seemed doubtful, in Dim’s eyes. “That is quite a task—”

“It is time for the world to see Istanbull’s new gunships… our dreadnoughts. I don’t have many, mind you, but the few that I have should be enough to get everyone’s attention. I want the whole of the world to be holding their breath and perhaps shitting themselves in fear. I have in my possession guns capable of firing over the horizon—guns so powerful that to fire them and hit your target, you have to calculate the curvature of Terra Prime. My biggest issue right now is that I have more of these guns available to me than I do creatures capable of the calculations.”

“How is such a thing even possible?” Commodore Guillemot asked and his body went rigid while he leaned forward in his chair.

“The barrels of the guns take up the entire length of the ship,” Eerie replied, still calm, cool, and in control. “The ship is built around the gun… the barrel of said gun is a little over one hundred and sixty feet in length. It fires a thirty four inch wide shell that is over thirteen feet in length and has a range of about twenty five miles.”

Dim had trouble comprehending Eerie’s words, but he understood the gist well enough: Eerie was about to announce a new era in warfare, and that the old era would be relegated to the history books. How had she done this? Dim realised that it didn’t matter how, that was irrelevant. What was far more important was that she had. This was something that would get the attention of the entire world—including Equestria. He couldn’t help but wonder what sort of game Eerie was playing.

“Fancy will offer their former colonies protection, but will also offer a guarantee of autonomy and free rule. This is a gesture of goodwill, done with the hope of soothing past hurts.” Eerie poured herself more tea, added a splash of cream, and then turned her commanding gaze upon Dim. “For Fancy to be able to do this, there needs to be stability. Your job will be to deal with the Ascendancy as you see fit—”

“Which means that you want them dead,” Blackbird deadpanned.

“Why… yes… that is exactly what I want.” Eerie gave Blackbird a nod of confirmation and then returned her attention to Dim. “This might not be a solution, but it will be a start. Fancy needs to unify again. The sleeping giant must awaken. Dim, you will be in charge. I give you command of this operation. I will also give you two capable advisors, Bombay and Pâté au Poulet. The Bard is a native to Fancy, he speaks the language, and he will know the local customs. You would do well to heed his words and listen to his counsel. Bombay has a marvellous head for tactics, but is dreadful at command. She is wily and capable of great treachery though.”

“This is quite a plan—”

“Blackbird, where others see the world crumbling apart a piece at a time, I see opportunity.” Eerie’s eyes narrowed and the flickering flames of the candlelight could be seen reflecting in them. “I intend to use this unique situation as a catalyst for rapid change. Modesto had much to say about this, and a fair bit of this is his plan. I had the initial idea, but Modesto sorted out many of the fine details, and Mars saw the opportunity with the former colonies of Fancy, because we knew that we needed a distraction while Dim did his job. Dim is bound to make a mess, so we need the world’s eyes focused elsewhere.”

“And I’m supposed to haul Dim over to Fancy and drop the bomb upon those poor unsuspecting bastards, I guess?” Jolie rested both of her short forelegs against the edge of the table and looked like a curious, overexcited foal that was a bit too happy about having tea with the adults.

“Jolie, I need you to be Dim’s eyes in the sky. The Ascendancy proves elusive, very much so. You and your ship will be allowed to operate in Fancy, but you may not use any of your ship’s weapons. It was difficult to get Fancy to agree and I had to make promises… token gestures of goodwill. Dim’s destruction will be bad enough, so we don’t need a warship raining down death from above—”

“I daresay that Dim is worse than my cute little boat,” Jolie said while resting her chin on her forelegs.

“Fancy is scared of your warship, but they don’t know about Dim,” Eerie replied.

“And when they do know about Dim, it’ll be too late.” Jolie rolled her eyes and let out a snort. “Eerie, this might backfire on you.”

“Of this I am painfully aware.” Eerie leveled her commanding gaze upon Dim and tried to burn holes right through his skull. “This is why I am trusting Dim. I am trusting him as family to do right and to try and show some restraint. I already know this is going to be a debacle and I am fully ready to make some formal apologies. Modesto is busy scribing them even now. But this is a job that needs doing and it remains to be seen how Dim will do it.”

“So you’re gambling that Fancy will be so happy about the removal of instability that they’ll turn a blind eye to Dim’s destruction—”

“Jolie, eat some cake or something.” Eerie’s head turned in Jolie’s direction and her lip curled into a leering smirk. “Stating the obvious is such an annoying habit. Just do something to occupy that mouth of yours.”

The little mare began to giggle, licked her teeth, and then burst out laughing when Eerie slid the entire remains of the cake in her direction. Dim meanwhile, understood how much of this rested upon his withers, and how he handled himself. Commodore Guillemot too, had to be feeling some pressure, and Dim looked down at the Four Boars, still resting upon the table in front of him.

“There has been much ego stroking and mutual masturbation,” Dim remarked, “for which I am grateful. My shaft has been suitably stroked. But what of Blackbird? Is she to get no satisfaction? You brought up Pâté au Poulet and Bombay, yet they are not here at this meeting, but Blackbird is. Why? Share the love, Eerie.”

Jolie, still snickering, began to cram cake into her mouth as fast as her little hooves could scoop it up, and she did this with much licking, lip smacking, and gusto. Meanwhile, Eerie now had her terrific deadpan expression locked on Dim, and the commodore had resumed smoking his pipe. Dim too, was puffing away, his joint was almost gone now.

“We Darks are so talented at magic… as a family, we’re some of the most powerful unicorns in the world. We’re so gifted, so capable, there is nothing we can’t do. Except for Dim. Alas, poor Dim. He received only a pittance when it came to portioning out the family’s magic, and Fate, being no great compensator to the misfortunate, having no sense of fairness, gave Dim quite a different gift altogether: Fate decreed that Dim was to be an asshole… perhaps the greatest asshole in all of existence, and all of the world would clench in fear of his assholery.”

Across the table, Jolie choked on her cake and Guillemot was forced to start pounding the filly-sized mare on her back. Blackbird chortled and clamped her uninjured talons over her mouth to try and hold everything back. Eerie’s deadpan expression seemed unbreakable, and Dim stared at her, wondering how love and hatred could hold such equal measure in his heart.

“Blackbird, your mission, should you choose to accept it, will be to counter Dim’s abhorrent assholery. You will counteract his odious, objectionable, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, repellent behaviour, his reprehensible, intolerable, atrocious nature, and you will do what you seem to do best. You will make friends. You will earn trust. It is my sincere hope that you will find some way to counteract Dim’s detestable, deplorable, degenerate, disgusting demeanour, or else this mission might very well be doomed. I am placing all of my faith and hope into you, my dear, beautiful girl, and you must try to be a countermeasure to Dim’s unpleasantness.”

“You ask the impossible,” Blackbird quipped.

With a snarl, Dim threw himself back in his chair and let out a dismissive huff.

“We all have our jobs to do,” Eerie continued, “and now, we shall get down to the finer details. I have some goals I wish to accomplish, and each of you will have a list of tasks to achieve. Settle in, darling dear ones, we’re going to be here for a while…”

Author's Notes:

Dim needs some burn cream.