Five days. Instead of a few hours by train, their trip to Baltimare took five days. They hitched rides on wagons and with caravans during the night, walked during the day, and made meal breaks quick to save time. But still the trip took five days. It bore repeating, and Starlight repeated it to Anon whenever presented the opportunity.

She wasn’t angry with him, or at least not after the first day. But she felt like the cold shoulder was her only tool to keep Anon in line. He would try to talk to her, to joke, prod, sometimes cajole, but she kept her composure icy, even when he flew into a fit, tripped over himself, or burnt his potato chips. (Seriously, how? You don’t even cook those.) But she only managed to maintain her aloof distance for half a day.

In truth, it was hard for her to stay distant toward him, even when he was being an obnoxious pervert. Before the Stableton events, her impression of him had been one dimensional. He was the annoying, sex crazed alien who couldn’t keep his hands to himself or his mouth shut. But in Stableton she’d seen him be cunning, brave, and forgiving. Those impressions grew stronger the more time she spent with him; they cemented themselves; they gave a new meaning to his rambunctiousness.

It wasn’t more than two days, then, before she found herself leaning on him during their rides, walking at his side during long stretches of road, and nuzzling him goodnight. Before, somewhere buried in her heart, she started to think of him as a friend.

She wasn’t as surprised to find herself with her forelegs in his lap while he combed his fingers through her mane as she would have been a week before. It would have been unthinkable then. Now, as they flipped through Better Boardgames together, she hardly considered it.

The cart in which they rode, surrounded by bales of hay, jostled and creaked. She felt Anon drop his hand on her back to keep her steady and smiled at him. He wasn’t smiling.

“Is it your back?” Starlight asked and patted his lap.

He nodded, his face contorted in discomfort. The first few cart rides hadn’t seemed to bother him much, but by the third stretch across uneven roads, Anon was complaining it felt like an elephant had used him as slippers—his words.

Starlight sat up and peeked over stacked hay, past the stallion driving and the bull pulling the cart, into the near distance. She felt her heart skip and her cheek muscles pulled an involuntary grin. There was smoke on the horizon. Nay, more than that, there was the sprawling outline of a city. She sat down and rubbed a hoof Anon’s back. “Hang on a bit longer. We’re almost there.”

“To the jaws of death?” Anon grumbled.

Starlight giggled. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re in luck, I know the best alchemist in Baltimare. She’s actually why we’re here. As soon as we find a place to stay, I’ll get you a pain-relieving tincture.”

Starlight stopped rubbing his back, worms nibbling her nerves. She would get him a tincture on the assumption the alchemist in question didn’t shut the door in her face.

She pushed those thoughts away and leaned against Anon. “Isn’t there somepony here you want to meet, too?”

Anon’s pained look didn’t vanish, but Starlight saw his eyes shift to the side. She noted it as an obvious yes to herself.

“I don’t know,” Anon said. “I guess.”

“Well, it’s what we’re here for,” Starlight said. “Apology tour, remember?”

Anon didn’t look at her. Starlight felt concern nest in her chest. She brushed her nose against his neck and chuckled when he flinched.

“How about I come with you?” Starlight asked.

“No!” Anon snapped his head toward her, his face urgent. He seemed to realize the intensity of his reaction. He turned away.

Starlight looked at his lap. “Is there something wrong?”

She felt Anon rub her back. When she looked up, he was giving her a cheesy, though pained, grin.

“It’s just something I want to do alone. No biggie,” Anon said.

Starlight nodded slowly. She felt his hand travel down to her butt. She instinctively knocked him across the face with magic, causing his body to twist in recoil.

“Ah, my back!” Anon yelled.

“I forgot! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

--

Their cart pulled to a stop a half hour later. Starlight jumped off. Anon slumped out.

“Thanks again for the ride,” Starlight said and handed both the driver and the bull a bit.

“Any time, ma’am,” the bull said and bowed. “Your friend okay though?”

Starlight looked to Anon. He was dragging along the cart, his hand gripping its side.

“I hope so,” Starlight said. She bid the driver and bull farewell and looked around as Anon shuffled to her side. The city was no Manehattan, but it was grand. The streets were paved with cobblestone, the sidewalks with bricks. Most of the buildings were made of brick and stone too, a far cry from Ponyville and Stableton. The streets bustled, even in the obscure neighborhood off in which they’d been dropped. The homes were rowhouses, wedged together as though carved from a single stone. Stand-alone buildings, whether temples, shops, or municipal, were a mix of architectural styles. Twilight had talked enough about Canterlot and Manehattan architecture for Starlight to pick out in what period certain structures were built. She recognized the neoclassical design of a Sun Temple down the street, and the colonial influence in a group of buildings a block over.

But Starlight’s attention was stripped from the city’s look when she heard Anon’s pained groan. Right now, she needed function over style. She needed to find them an inn. It wasn’t too difficult. They were in west Baltimare, a part of the city in which she’d spent a lot of time. She prodded her half-dead companion and bid him follow. He did, though slower than an old mare with sciatica.

After a short walk, punctuated by frequent breaks, they stood before a building wedged between a y-intersection. The sign above its entrance read “The Hoofland”. She’d remembered it from her last visit. Starlight led them inside. The foyer was simple, a front desk faced the door, flanked on either side by a staircase. To the left and right were hallways lined with doors. The carpet seemed old, as did the wallpaper, the staircases, and even the mare behind a desk.

“Welcome, hon,” the elder mare said. She had a yellow coat and a grey mane tied in a top bun.

“Hi, I’d like to rent a room for two, please,” Starlight said.

Annon dragged in behind her and leaned on the desk.

“Why are we still here? Just to suffer?” he said, then lowered himself onto the ground.

Starlight gave a nervous smile.

“Why of course you would” the old mare said. “Why else would you come to the best inn in Baltimare?” She produced two keys from beneath the desk and slid them to Starlight. “You’ll have room 26, up the stairs and to the right. And if you need anything, just call on Swift Service. That’s me, hon.” She winked.

“Thanks, we will. Come on, Anon.” Starlight helped him to his feet.

“And what’s your name, sweetheart?” Swift asked, flipping open a ledger.

“Oh, sorry. Starlight Glimmer.”

“Enjoy your stay at The Hoofland, Starlight!”

--

The room was… cozy. There were two beds, between them a night stand with a lantern, and a small bathroom near the door. Anon collapsed on one of the beds, face down, and groaned.

“That bad, huh?” Starlight said. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get that tincture for you right now. Just try not to move too much.”

Anon grumbled from his pillow. Starlight took the sound as an acknowledgement of some sort. She placed her saddlebags by the other bed, checked her mane in the bathroom mirror, then left the human to recover.

She hurried from The Hoofland after nearly colliding with a bandaged mare. She scanned street signs and racked her brain. Was it left? Maybe right? No, now she remembered, it was near Gwynn’s Fawns. Starlight weaved through crowds and hoof traffic, made a sharp right, and stopped, breathing heavy, in front of a nondescript shop, the post above which read “Potions, Poultices, and Tonics”.

She felt that nervous tingle again, like somepony was applying a feather to her cerebellum and the sensation was traveling her spine.

“Long time no see?” she said to herself. “No, no. Hey, I know this is a little awkward, but I’m back! No, that won’t do it either. I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms, but even poison leaves can be purified? Ugh, no that one was horrible.” She inhaled, steadied herself, and stood tall. “You can do this, Starlight. You just have to go in there and apologize.”

She approached the door, took another deep breath, and opened it. A thick plume of some noxious smoke smacked her in the face and she stumbled backward, coughing.

A second cough joined her, and a light blue unicorn with a frizzy white mane stuck her head through the door.

Starlight wheezed through her coughs and waved away what remained of the cloud.

“Ms. Chloride?” Starlight said when she was sure her lungs were still on the inside.

The blue mare continued to cough, eyes closed, and shook her head. “N-no, ufh. J-just Salt…” she opened her eyes and looked at Starlight. “… Water. S-Starlight Glimmer?”

Starlight smiled as well as she could, but she felt her cheeks twitch resistance. “Heeey… Yeah, It’s me. I’m back.”

“O-oh.” Salt Water looked at the ground, then to Starlight, then to the ground. “I see.”

They stood in front of the shop in silence for moments that felt like hours.

“May I come in?”

“S-sure, I guess.” Salt Water entered the shop and Starlight followed. Inside were rows and shelves of multicolored vials, each with a different label. Potions for growth, for hair remover, for allergies, for birth control; it seemed there was a tonic for almost every desired ailment or alteration. In the back a beaker fizzled and steamed atop an alchemy table, between a ring stand and a bottle labeled “aqua regia”. Salt Water levitated the beaker and examined it, her back to Starlight.

“So…” Starlight began, “I see you’re still at it. The alchemy, I mean.”

“Y-yes,” Salt Water said.

“And how is business going?”

“Mmh.”

Starlight felt her stomach dancing. She approached Salt Water like a mouse to crumbs and lowered her head. “I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for the way I acted before. A lot has changed since then. Can you… Can you forgive me?”

“Mmh.”

Starlight pulled back her ears. “I’ll take that as a no, then?”

Salter Water set down the beaker and turned to Starlight, her face indifferent. “I-if you want to read it that way. We—I’m over it. N-now if there’s nothing else you need…”

Starlight’s heart sank, but she raised her head. “Actually, there is something else. I’m looking for a tincture for pain relief, specifically for the lower back.”

“S-sorry, fresh out.”

“Out? But how? Who?”

“W-well it’s a big city, Starlight.” Salt Water walked behind her alchemy table and fiddled with the clamp on her ring stand. “We—I run out of things often.” She paused and then looked up, eyebrow raised. “A-although my last pain reliever w-was bought by a mare I’d never seen before. I think she said her name was…”

--

Knock Knock

Anon opened his eyes and groaned.

Knock Knock Knock, the sound’s intensity grew.

“Starlight, did you forget your key?” He said as he dragged himself out of bed. He slogged to the door, one hand on his back.

Knock Knock KNOCK KNOCK

“I’m coming. Hold your horses. Heh, get it? Horses. Heheh, ow. Laughing hurts too?”

Anon gripped the door knob and pulled.

“Next time don’t forget your k—AAH!”

Anon fell back on his ass. Pain shot through his entire body and he tensed, although the physical tension was preferable to the fear knotting inside him.

Standing in the door, head wrapped in gauze, was Rainy Days.