A full moon lathers its beautiful glow across Equestria's midnight. A dance of clouds surround it, yet allow a precise window to peek through and face the land.

All is quiet in the Slums, save the closing of the motel's dusty wooden door. Dahlia and Crimson come down the steps and onto the sand - the mare dons her saddlebags and a profound scowl. The man houses concern at her stoic front, the one that didn't shed even a single tear for her friend.

The man stays behind her a few steps. Both have nothing to say, but their goal is certain and understood.

They make a quick and steady pace out of the Slums and towards the deserts of south Equestria. Ruined buildings and faded cobble roads turn to expanses of dunes and sand soon enough. Still, nothing is said.

The cool air of the nighttime desert is rather refreshing; the point of the year they're in and the desert's geography allows this biome to be comfortable rather than freezing or scorching.

Crimson minds mild annoyance at his boots sinking into the sand at each step. He occasionally glances at Dahlia, wondering how she's so effortlessly able to wade through the ever-changing slopes and altitudes of the terrain. Her hooves work nothing less of a miracle to keep her so composed and balanced.

At about three miles in, Dahlia slows her steady trek and reaches for her saddlebags, obtaining a flask of water and uncapping it with her teeth. She takes two unfiltered swigs then sighs, feeling her body shiver lightly at the refreshment.

Without looking back, holding a grimace on her face, she offers the flask out blindly to Crimson.

He feels a little better about the energy between them when she does, finding solace that she still cares for him to some degree.

"Thank you," he calls formally, to which she doesn’t reply. He takes the flask and brings it up to his lips. The water is cool and it comes in smoothly. He too feels the tingle of a chilled beverage coming down after a length of physical activity, enhanced by the already fresh air around him. He hands the flask to Dahlia, who distantly takes it back with her wing and pockets it into her left saddlebag.

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out steadily. Only now, strolling through the expanse of Equestria's southern desert in the dead of night, does he really take the time to appreciate being out of the smog. He doesn't think he'll be back there soon for any reason, except for offered transportation. The motel has nothing left for neither him nor his companion, and everything Gloriosa promised to him is located outside of the Slums. In many ways, he's glad he doesn't have a reason to return, yet... it feels incomplete.

An easy breeze keeps them company as they walk, the only sound to break the unencumbered quietness. Oddly enough he doesn't feel off-put or awkward between their shared silence. He strides behind her without worry.

He mostly keeps his eyes forward at the ever-changing horizon line. Nothing comes into view for a time. Occasionally littered vegetation or animal howls vary the farther they travel, but it's finally into the fourth hour that something appears in the distance. Some sort of small town-city that has a few buildings. Lights begin to shine into the atmosphere after they cross the invisible threshold.

"What's this place called?" Crimson suddenly inquires, his deep drawl breaking the silence in a slightly uncomfortable way. A part of him doesn't expect a response.

"Maracas," she says in an unrefined accent. It almost makes Crimson snicker, though he doesn't since he appreciates her actually responding.

"Hm. Don't look too big. Trade route?"

"Yeah. It's also a rest zone. See those tall buildings?"

"I do."

"All of them are hotels. The place isn't lacking sleeping space, which is where the city gets most of its money. I have a room there. We'll stay there while we wait for the trade."

"Right. Any more business than just the zebras?"

"... Mmmmaybe. It's all kinda going as it's coming, but nothing concrete for now. But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You heard what Gloriosa said. What's the plan?"

“Rackin’ it right now. We still got a few days before that swap. I’ll get back to you on that after we finish this hike.”

Dahlia shrugs at his lackluster response. “You better. There’s a lot to unpack. Good thing I have this for us in the mean time, we’ll get a monetary head start!”

“Good to know yer thinkin’ ahead.”

“Waaay ahead. I have a few more of these planned if we get the time.”

“If this goes swimmin’ly, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Then get ready for more, ‘cuz this’ll be easy as cake.” A thought visibly strikes the mare, giving her an air of curiosity. Just of the sight of this, her usual curious air, Crimson feels a bit better about what happened only hours ago. Though, the pain is still obviously burrowed deep in her eyes. He tries to ignore this, prepping himself for her incoming question. “You planning on talking when we get to the hurdle? Or you gonna play it ‘dumb?’”

"What do you suppose is best?"

She looks back at him questioningly. "Shouldn't you know?"

He furrows his brows at her return. "On what accord?"

"Because you know what you've been through - I haven't? Duh. I'd weigh our options, but I don't even know what they are. What do you think works better here?"

He ponders her words for a matter of seconds, lining his lips. "... Let's try no talkin'. Don't think anyone outside Gloriosa's hold knows I can. Word's pretty tight there."

"What about Majesty's? Wasn't that a whole thing?"

"Shouldn't surprise me you know about that, but it does. How'd you find out?"

"Literally everypony in Equestria knows. I couldn’t walk down the street without hearing somepony screaming about it. It was pretty insane. The entire building blew up last night."

"Yeah, it did. No one inside the building survived and most of the exterior force got snuffed. I'd be ripe to assume the dead can't make a report on my speech."

"Any outside witnesses?"

"None. Didn't step outta the property save to jump off the city. No bodies out back in the gardens neither."

"Well, if you think all bases are covered then that could be an option. Maybe separating Crimson as far from Sky as possible is a smarter move."

"Agreed. Less complicated, don't ya' think?"

Dahlia mulls the idea around for a moment before speaking up again, "Yeah. A break from your dumb voice is a plus."

"Glad we share the sentiment. I already got a collar on too."

"That may be true, but you know what's even better? It's not needed anymore."

Crimson comes to a brief halt, causing her to pause as well. "... Serious?"

"Dead. We could have played pony master without embarrassing you, but you have an unbreakable collar on anyway. Lucky you right?"

"Super lucky. What changed?"

"Amendment to the Doctrine got passed a few days ago. Humans are now officially allowed in public spaces and can't be screwed with by badges. Which means...!"

"... No re-run of Canterlot."

"Bingo! We're free to go where we please as long as you aren't being stupid. We'll definitely be using this to our advantage pretty soon. For now, let's get this trade done."

The man nods, prompting them to both continue walking.

‎

‎ ‎

The duo finally enter the city through a tall border - wooden poles, carved to spikes, surround it, making the inside look compacted. In this city, Crimson witnesses all sorts of animals roaming about, many of them he's familiar with already. Gryphons, zebras, camels, ponies, and some that he's never seen before.

Creatures of all black with fangs, large pastel eyes that have a gloomy hue to them. There's very few, rarely sprinkled between the already sparse crowd. Even with all of these different races and creatures, there isn't a single human about except for him. They mostly seem entertained by whatever deals they’re trying to strike with one another in the middle of the night, but to his grievance, some still stare at him like the foreigner he is.

Dahlia keeps a calm front and continues leading him towards one of the taller buildings that calls itself a 'hotel,' with no name to label it. It looks much, much less impressive than anything in the major cities, and having only recently been in the luxurious suite Axel owned, the comparison is jarring.

The building is entered from the front through swinging saloon doors, and the very first floor is just that: a saloon.

The energy around them becomes quickly barbaric and uncomposed. Lots of swearing, drinking, banter, and general roughhousing brims the air with testosterone.

“Wait here,” Dahlia nudges Crimson’s leg with her rump, making him pause next to the swinging doors. She walks further in, melding in with the boisterous noise. Crimson tracks her movements, seeing that she approaches the bar at the farthest end. She calls for the stallion’s attention, he turns, and he gives her a wide smile with the throwing up of two arms. They exchange a few words before the barkeep reaches under the bar and takes something out, passing it to Dahlia. She nods gratefully and gives a last few words before turning back around.

She comes back to Crimson and takes a hard left towards a staircase that leads up to a second floor. The man follows suit before they're largely noticed by any of the tenants.

Ascending up the staircase puts them along a balcony that overwatches the first floor. They continue along this L-shaped walkway until they hit the far wall, which has three rustic elevators. Just by the button panels and elevator doors, it hardly looks like they'll work. But, at the press of Dahlia's hoof, the mechanisms spring to life.

This machine-work is completely graceless, especially compared to the marvel that is the Research Tower's. From what he hears, actual gears, oil, and cogs are toiling to move the heavy metal box behind the iron doors, rather than magic. It's not obnoxiously loud but has a boom to it.

Their boarding arrives at a reasonable time, possibly only a few floors up, and they both step in. Dahlia is quick to hit another button around the middle of the selection. They rise to their designated zone.

The elevator does little to announce their arrival, only the rumble of the mechanisms dying. The doors come open to present a hallway that spans left, right, and forward. The mare walks straight, guiding them both down the hall.

She stops at a wooden door with little uniqueness. Reaching into her saddlebag for a wavy metal key, she takes it and unlocks the door. Both enter, with Crimson to close it behind them.

Crimson is astonished to see the inside, this room is a spacious studio with everything compacted into a roughly twelve-hundred square-foot space - all lit by an amber bulb in the very middle of the ceiling. What he takes to impression is the balcony on the far end, one accessed by sliding glass doors. It looks wide and has a few reclining lawn chairs that look off towards the north.

Dahlia turns off the light, leaving the room lit by gentle moonlight. She moves towards the bed, setting down her bags and herself onto it. She takes her tail and begins to stroke the sand and locks out of it.

Crimson takes a quick look around the dark room. Two queen beds on the left, a three-cushion couch next to the doors of the balcony, an island sat by four chairs with plethora of newspapers and magazines on it to the right, a small grey spark powder fridge, and a very primitive stove next to a stone counter-top. It works well enough, he thinks.

"The sun's coming up soon,” Dahlia starts. “We have about six hours before the trade group gets here. If you wanna catch some shut eye, do it now."

"Think you might need the rest more than I do."

"Worry about yourself."

He passes a lackluster blink, dropping the effort to retort. He continues taking in the rest of the room.

"The room comes with drinks and stuff. Whatever is in that fridge is ours. They'll refill it every noon."

“Quite the investment."

"Hardly. I’m not sinking nearly as much money as you think into this room. The best part is that it’s reserved for me. We can come back to it if we're in the area."

"Some sort'a special premium yer payin' for?"

She shakes her head and lets go of her tail, putting her hooves at her hips proudly. "Nah, I know a few faces. They like me around here."

"If only you were this popular with the Guard." Dahlia slouches and gawks at him boredly. He strides towards the sliding doors and takes the handle with his fingertips, softly prying it open. A gust of cool wind hits his face, invading the warm room behind. With a meditated inhale through his nose, he steps out.

"Leave the door open, would ya'?" the mare calls from behind him.

He does as she asks and leaves it as is. His boots click quietly on the cement balcony before he finds a seat on the left-most lawn chair. He sits down and kicks his feet up, and to his pleasant surprise, it fits him almost perfect. His feet hang off just after the heel, but it's great otherwise. He smiles slightly at his subconscious being satisfied and relaxes, crossing his fingers over his stomach.

He looks out to the expanse that is Equestria, having a great view from his fairly high vantage point. He will never lose reverence for seeing Canterlot at such a far distance, a royal beacon of lights and majesty, propped up upon its rocky throne.

Other familiar sights can be perceived as well. He can make out Las Pegasus, Los Ungulas, Dodge Junction, Cloudsdale, the Everfree, the far snowy mountains of Yakyakistan, and other scattered points of interest he hasn't been to. It's a gorgeous sight, especially under the easy glow of the night.

"How can a place this beautiful be filled with so much hell? ... Like a god damn fairy tale nightmare." He shakes his head slowly, his hair rubbing the backrest of the seat. "... Reckon that's what it is."

“The heck?”

He hears the mare call from inside, garnering his attention. He sits up and cranes his neck, looking past the glass to see her rise from the bed.

Dahlia trots to the door and picks something up from the ground with her wing, appearing to be a rolled up parchment that was slipped through the bottom of the door. She quickly unravels it and holds it up to her face. Her eyes skim left and right quickly. “… You’re joking.”

The man spins on his rear to kick his legs off the side of the chair and stand up. He walks to the sliding door and leans on the frame. “What’s it say?”

The mare sighs in agitation. “The zebras got caught in a sandstorm and have to wait it out. They’ll be here a day late.”

“Hm,” the man bites the corner of his lip.

“Uugh, that’s so annoying. I really don’t wanna wait here for a day doing nothing.”

“Who said we have to? Don’t you got some other rounds stacked up?”

Dahlia brightens in realization. “Oh right! Yeah! I had planned to get some stuff done the day after, but I guess we can get tackle it tomorrow. We might surprise my buyers showing up a day early, but it shouldn't be a big deal. Yeah," she nods with a smile, "good thinking, Crim. We can get that done tomorrow while we wait for the zebras.”

“Anythin’ I should know?”

“Nah, they’re your run-of-the-mill show and swaps. Just look as intimidating as possible.”

“Right.”

“Rest up, we’ll leave bright and early since we’re hitting two different towns. If I know those two buyers, they’ll be available by noon. We should be able to get everything done by twelve and get back here with some time to unwind.”

He nods and salutes with two fingers, signaling his departure. He would wish her a restful night, but he doesn’t want a do-over of a few minutes ago. As Dahlia returns to the bed, he turns and sits back down on the lawn chair, kicking his feet up and prepping to relax himself until sunrise. He locks his fingers behind his head and sighs through his nose, letting his eyes fall shut.

‎

‎

Once the sun kisses Crimson’s skin, his exhausted eyes pry open in time to admire the sunrise. He admires it for a second, letting his eyes adjust to being open. He gets up and stretches his body out, getting a few nice pops from his trunk.

He catches glimpse of Dahlia doing the same. She crawls off the bed and bends herself over, putting her chin close to the ground while lifting her flank to pop her back. There’s something about that pose, that specific movement, it looks so damn satisfying to pull off that it makes Crimson just a tad jealous.

The mare exhales deeply and stands up straight again, immediately rolling her eyes. “You’re really are just a stallion at heart, huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a pervert just like them.”

“If you think I’m knockin’ my rocks by lookin’ at you, you’re boastin’ yerself too hard.”

Dahlia spits and scoffs, “Pffhoh, yeah, sure. That’s exactly why your eyes nearly fell out of your head, creep.”

Crimson leers and crosses his arms. “Alright, fine, you got me. Got caught red-handed starin’ at yer fine, curvaceous body. I would say it won’t happen again, but I’d be lyin’—”

“Okay, I get it, for the love of everything sane, please fucking stop.”

“At yer command.”

“Get serious, we’re heading out. Get my bags.”

Crimson does as she says, walking towards the end of the bed he’s closest to and retrieving the green saddlebags from the ground. He holds them from the back strap with his index finger and walks up to Dahlia, handing them to her directly. She takes them with her wing, he feels her feathers brush up against him very peculiarly.

She gets them over her back and humps her rear to set them properly. She heads for the door, tilting her head for Crimson to follow.

‎

‎

A steady pace out of Maracas' south exit puts them on a cobblestone trail that connects to neighboring towns. They stay on the path until it forks into three directions, where Dahlia guides them to the farthest-right path heading west. The distant visage of the town in question is quickly seen and a roughly thirty-minute walk puts them on the outskirts.

As they come in for the approach, Dahlia briefly mentions to Crimson that this city is named Nole, a city very similar to Maracas in terms of building materials used and border structure, but the placement of everything inside is unique to itself. The populous proves to be of the same crowd, mostly made up for griffons and ponies, but a decent amount of camels, zebras, and the occasional human too. Everyone is dressed in proper attire for the desert, mostly rags that aid in keeping sand and dust away.

Dahlia leads the man through the town, finding it quite a bit bigger than Maracas. They navigate through the outskirts made of residences, leading into a busy central that quarters many shopkeepers and stand owners calling and pedaling their produce or wears. Some even try to stand in Dahlia's way to advertise their products to her, which she easily and rudely blows them off without regard.

Exiting the center, their surroundings turn from shops to multi-floored townhouses and apartments. The streets they follow are deviated from when the tan mare directs them into one of many alleyways shrouded away from the sun's gaze. They slink through this unbeaten path until Dahlia finds a lop-sided wooden door at the backside of an unassuming duplex. She looks around, ensuring no one watches them from any of the broken windows or building corners, then knocks on the door. She steps back, her tail going in between Crimson's legs.

The door is hesitantly answered by a lime green eyeball peeking through a peephole. Once it spots the duo, it disappears for a moment. The door comes open with a dull creak. On the other side, two griffons stand, both older-looking with a bounty of scars on their faces. Their bodies are hidden behind cloaks that match their tan and yellow feather patterns. They glare at Dahlia first before setting their eyes on the human behind her. Their faces remain cold and unreadable.

The griffon who peeked through the door speaks up first. "You're here quick. Thought it was t'marra."

"Consider it express delivery," Dahlia retorts.

"Never seen you with a human before," he throws his beak at the man. "He yours?"

"Don't worry about him. Worry about this instead," she declares, reaching into her right saddlebag to rummage through clinks of metal. She pulls out a spherical object and holds it in her hoof, one that looks almost as if it was staring back at him.

The griffons eye this orb with judgement. "... Does it still work?" the same griffon asks.

"You tell me." She reaches her muzzle to tap it with the end of her nose. This orb begins to glow with purple magic, before something akin to an iris and pupil form inside of it and blink awake. This unsettling display ends when the eye disperses into a menagerie of colors. Only now do the stoic fronts on the griffons turn up for impression.

"... Price we agreed on still stands," the griffon states.

"Which doesn't include the smuggling or the carrying fee," Dahlia declares.

The griffons give her a scrunched grimace. "Boss didn't talk about any fees, it was a clear cut price. Don't try to haggle us."

"It isn't a haggle, it's a demand. You've bought from me before, you should already know this. Not my fault if your boss forgot to give you the details."

"Didn't you listen? Boss didn't talk about any fees. That means: there's no fees."

Dahlia rolls her eyes at him, returning a severely unenthused look to him. "Again, not my problem if he forgot to bring it up. If you don't wanna pay up what's needed for this piece, go find somepony else. Not gonna waste my time when I can sell this thing in five minutes to the Rakalens across town, for double what I'm getting from you."

"We ain't paying no fucking fees, and you ain't selling it to our enemies," the griffon spits. "Give us the ward, Wisp. Or we'll make you sorry you--"

Crimson leans forward suddenly, looming over Dahlia to display one sharp hazel eye from under his hair. The griffons are quick to take a step back. "... I what?" the mare pries.

"Eeh, uh... he... understands us?" the now trepid griffon shoots his glare between her and the human.

"You wanna find out?"

The griffons sit in a momentary silence. The two exchange looks, coming to a silent agreement. "... Twelve percent, right?" Dahlia confirms with a nod. The second griffon turns and disappears into the home for a few seconds before he returns with two bags of bits – one larger and plump already tied with a string, the other smaller and modest which the griffon just now finishes tying.

With a swift exchange, the coins end up on Dahlia’s wing while the ward ends up in the front griffon’s claw. The griffons give the little mare a stern nod of approval and back into their homes, closing the door.

The duo turn to march out of this alleyway. Dahlia grins mischievously, ensuring no one is around before she voices her thoughts. “Hehe, suckers. My fee was already attached to the final price. Let’s hope their boss doesn’t find out I duped them for a bit extra~”

Crimson stays silent, simply walking behind her.

She pockets the money in her left saddlebag before continuing, “Alright, next stop is Ticlan. It’s another city just like this one about a mile off. Gonna be real with you, Crim, it might not be as smooth as this trade was, so expect the worst even if it doesn’t get that bad.”

Crimson reaches into his inner chest pocket, taking his pistol and lifting it slightly. He gages the weight even if he already knew he loaded it. The comfort of assurance.

“We’re gonna enter from the east gate, we’ll use that as our rendezvous point if we get separated. Sound good?” She turns her head back to glance at the silent man. He gives a curt nod in return.

With that, they follow the cobble roads to the next city over.

‎

‎

The sun has risen to the middle of the sky, the noon heat rises from the sanded grounds around them. Arriving at the eastern borders of Ticlan, Dahlia gives the man a firm stare and declares this entrance as their returning point. They proceed into the town with heightened caution.

The city is nearly a carbon copy the previous one – the most notable difference being more structures made of stone rather than adobe or wood. Dahlia guides them through the crowds and swerves expertly past the clamoring shop owners foisting their products.

The energy is remarkably similar to Nole, it nearly feels as if they hadn’t walked a mile and a half to get to Ticlan, but it’s an undeniable fact they did. What’s also unshakable is the feeling that Crimson is being stared at more often than usual.

Nevertheless, they press on. Just like before, the shops at the center mesh into residences when approaching the borders of the city. Dahlia follows a concrete sidewalk that spans in between favelas and condos. At a non-descript archway into a blue three-story home, Dahlia takes the turn to walk up the wooden steps. Crimson basks in the shade once they step through the archway and rise up to a door left ajar. Without the courtesy to knock or let anyone know they’re entering, Dahlia shoulders the door open all the way and keeps walking.

Inside this first floor dining room, there are three gruff pegasus stallions and two burly zebras smoking cigarettes around a circular table while playing cards. They briefly stop their game to watch the out-of-place duo stride up to the next staircase. Only one of them moves to take a sip out of a beer bottle.

Ascending the second floor puts them in a strange mix between a washroom and bedroom, where three mares gossiping amongst each other in Sponish are hoof-washing clothes - one earth, one pegasus, and one unicorn. Again, at seeing the two arrive, they remain quiet and ogle them while they ascend the second staircase.

At the highest floor of this home is another bedroom layout with multiple twin beds and more child-like decorations despite there being no kids around. Instead, four grizzled earth stallions stand on the room’s balcony and overlook the neighborhood. Crimson and Dahlia approach them from behind, it’s obvious they act as if they are unaware of their presence. Once the duo come within a distance of a few feet, the four of them collectively walk together to the left side of the balcony, glaring at them while giving the space to stand on the right side.

Crimson and Dahlia take their oppressive hint and move to the right side of the balcony, standing next to a few hanging potted plants and wooden chairs. This balcony is surrounded by wooden rails that have seen some wear, but look stable enough to still work.

An ominous mad-dogging comes from the four stallions, to not only Dahlia, but Crimson as well. Each stallion is dressed in fairly casual attire - printed shirts and cargo shorts. Only one of them speaks up first, a blonde stallion with a light blue coat who stands in the middle. "Hi," he simply says, sounding rather friendly even though his voice is rough and mature.

"Hey," the mare replies plainly.

"My muscle wasn't wrong. You showed up early." With this revelation, Crimson understands why he felt more watched than usual. "With a human no less. What, no warning, no nada?"

"Thought I'd surprise you, Barco. You like surprises, don't you?"

The stallion named Barco snickers and lifts his eyes upwards. "You're right, I do. I do love surprises. And this... this is a surprise for sure." He smacks his lips with a grin. "So what, chica? You didn't come all this way for courtesy visit. Que hay? You bring me my shit early or what?"

Dahlia smirks in return and reaches her hoof into her right saddlebag. The same sounds of clinking as before ding from inside. She takes out a single playing card, one without any noticeably outstanding attributes. Just a regular old playing card. "From yours truly."

Barco raises his lips closer to his nostrils, nodding slowly but repeatedly. "You never fail, Wisp, you never fail. It's why I like you. Mira," he throws his head to the left, signaling the silent approach of one of the mares, the earth mare, who was doing laundry downstairs. She holds a small square strongbox in her hoof, one dazzled with different patterns and gems. She opens it and presents the contents - more gems rested atop stacks of bits. "That's for you, for a job well done."

Dahlia nods, extending her hoof outwards to offer the card. At this, the stallion whistles abruptly. The mare holding the payment lowers her head and trots to Dahlia quickly. She takes the playing card trepidly and replaces it with the weighty strongbox.

Dahlia gauges its volume by bringing her hoof up and down. Satisfied, she proceeds to look inside the box again. She analyzes the gems on the top, three emeralds, a ruby, two sapphires, and one diamond. The payment's all there, but... she bites her corner lip, feeling something mischievous come to mind. "... What happened to the third sapphire?"

"Que?" Barco asks cynically, giving her the side of his face.

"The third sapphire," Dahlia repeats, looking up to him seriously. "That's what we agreed on."

The stallion glares at her with his mouth hung for much longer than necessary. "... Hah!" He suddenly laughs once. "You take too much human dick on the way over here or what, chica? You not thinking straight?"

"I'm not fucking around, Barco."

The stallion freezes briefly, holding the same pose for three seconds before his face falls for a depressed frown. "Wisp..." he states her name gravely, taking two steps closer to her, "... you're not trying to play me right now, right? ... Right? Mm? Tell me I'm right, come on. Tell me."

Crimson becomes visibly defensive of Dahlia as he steps closer, but the mare herself puts a hoof to Crimson's thigh to calm him down. "You're right, I'm not. Everything we agreed on is in the box, except for that last sapphire. I'm not sure how you forgot it."

The stallion huffs and shakes his head, obviously holding back severe agitation. He pauses, freezes, and holds himself still for two seconds. He then smacks his lips again and nods repeatedly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, discupla me, I'm not sure how I forgot it either. That's my mistake, girly, for real, just-- lemme get one of my guys to go fetch it for you, okay?"

Dahlia squints at his obvious sarcasm. She reaches and snatches the card out of the mare next to her, pushing the box back into her chest. The mare gasps in surprise at the swift and sudden action. Only Barco's pupils move when witnessing this - his smirking doesn't let up. "That last sapphire, Barco. Or I walk."

"Hnhn," the stallion huffs an airy chuckle. "Chingada, Wisp. And here I thought we were cool. What happened, mm? Am I small-time now? Am I not good anymore? Now 'cause you got a human you think you're too good for me? Is that it, hm? Horny little mare spends her life savings on a human from the Horseshoes and suddenly... she's on top of the world..." He takes another two steps closer to Dahlia, standing only about a meter away. "That what it is?"

"What it is," Dahlia begins with a snarl, "is you going cheap on me, Barco. You're the last pony I expected to pull a product for less than it's worth."

"Hohoho, so now I'm cheap! Did you hear that, putos?" He takes a lazy, exaggerated stare at his mates at his side. "I'm cheap now, I'm cheap!" he echoes while his smile grows. He returns his oddly hyper stare to Dahlia. "So if it wasn't enough for you try and play me, you come here and you call me cheap? You come here, to my house, with your cute little face and your pretty-boy human, and you wanna FUCK with me?"

Dahlia squints her eyes and pulls her head back when he screams close to her face. Again, she has to put a hoof on Crimson to stop him from jumping at the imposing stallion. "Last chance. If that last sapphire doesn't show up, we're leaving."

The stallion suddenly turns around and starts to mutter to himself. "So now you're cheap, and now she's leaving, and it's your last chance-- nooo, she needs the last sapphire-- nooo, but she's not trying to play you, no, Barco, she's not trying to play you, nooo nonono, please..." He pauses again, unmoving. ... He turns around slowly and smiles again. "Look, Wisp, it's beautiful what you're doing. Pinching every last bit you can outta me before you sail away, trying to make me believe that was the deal from the beginning. I know that's what you do, it's what your kind likes to do... and I like that. No, I respect that. You use those beautiful little wings of yours to fly high, bullshit the pendejos, but hermana... down here..." he lifts his hoof to demonstrate the city of Ticlan. He then brings it down, crunching some wry grains of sand that are littered on the cement floor of the balcony. "... Down here, with all the cretins and bastards... you hit the ground."

Dahlia clenches her teeth and holds her composure.

"... I'mma give you thirty seconds. If you don't honor our deal, Wisp, I will. Come on," he whistles to her like one would a dog, "give papi the card. Take your payment, and get the fuck outta here."

Dahlia scowls at him deeply, taking no fondness in his choice of words. She returns the playing card to her saddlebag and scoffs, "Go fuck yourself, Barco."

The stallion's wicked smile slowly melds into a bored, resting expression. Even his henchmen look at him in a manner that says 'you gonna take that?' Barco lifts his lips closer to his nostrils as he did before, nodding repeatedly. "... Okay. Okay, I will."

"Hrck!" From the blindside, peeking from behind the balcony frame, the unicorn mare who was washing clothing downstairs channels her magic for a mighty push against Crimson's chest. The man staggers back hard enough to break the wooden rail behind him, it wasn't enough to throw him off balance as he is ripe to recover before he falls off the edge -- "Rrh!" -- little does he expect for one of the pegasus stallions who was playing cards to suddenly come from under the balcony, latch onto him, and yank him off the edge.

Dahlia gasps as he falls, quickly turning her attention to the stallions that rush her. There isn't even a second to react.

Yet, that's all the time she needs to swerve under a small spacing in the remains of the wooden railing that Crimson didn't break, avoiding being grabbed by the rushing stallions. Dahlia quickly flaps her wings to ascend just high enough to level herself with a hanging potted plant. She kicks it, it rips off the thin, weak string it was suspended on, and it flies towards the unicorn mare to smash right onto her head. The mare cries her pain as she is thrown into a semi-conscious stun.

Dahlia tries to escape by flying off, but is quickly stopped when two other pegasus stallions come from below to stop her. She takes a millisecond to dart her eyes down to the ground below, seeing Crimson beating the pegasus who grabbed him into unconsciousness. With that as the display, she's confident enough in him to fend for herself.

Surrounded by both the earth stallions and pegasi, she remains completely still in the air.

"I'LL FUCK YOU UP, WISP!" Barco shouts to her.

She faces him and barks back, "Try it, 'pendeyho!'"

At her turning her back, the pegasus stallions rush her.

Barco and his henchmen anticipate her being detained with grins, grins which falter when she rolls over them unexpectedly; Dahlia performs and aerial somersault right over the attackers, allowing their speed to crash right into Barco and his henchmen. While the group of pissed stallions grunt and get off of each other, Dahlia dons her alacrity to snatch the strongbox out of the earth mare's hold and fly towards the staircase with it, expertly maneuvering down to the first floor without touching the ground. She can hear Barco upstairs cussing out his henchmen for allowing this to happen. With a snicker, she shoves the strongbox into her left saddlebag while flying. Once she arrives to the first floor, she notes the front door was mostly closed but left slightly ajar again. She speeds up to it and roundhouse kicks it open, dashing outside as quickly as she can. This action causes to two zebras that were standing guard outside to jump in fright, giving her the perfect window to simply fly past them.

She smiles at her dumb luck and sticks her tongue out at them as she flies away. When she looks forward, her eyes direct upwards, seeing she has nothing to smile about as more of Barco's henchmen have taken to the sky. With dilated eyes, she darts down closer to the ground and flies just above it. Some henchmen spot her and begin to follow her flight while others stay high in the sky in case she wants to fly away.

She continues her mad dash towards the center of town with the highest density of population. She looks back, seeing five stallions flying at incredible speeds just behind her. She'll try to lose them in the town center.

Once the residences turn to shops and stands, she stops flapping her wings and lets her four hooves carry her. The speed is a frantic sprint until it slow to a run. This gives the henchmen an opportunity to get closer, but they fail to realize that slowing down was a necessary step. Three henchmen are unable to slow down in time to prevent colliding into innocent bystanders - a ruckus spawns among the townsfolk. The smarter two continue with a sprint behind Dahlia.

The mare squints her eyes as she bobs and weaves through the crowd, her avoiding collision with any other body coming to look like an intricate dance. The more dense the population becomes, the harder the henchmen are to spot. After a good amount dodging and swerving, Dahlia's panting breaths become her most exasperated trait when her motions die down to almost a regular trot.

Looking up, she still sees some goons in the skies above aiming their sights down to find her. After enough melding and blending, she notes that they've lost her in the wave of bodies. Taking panting breaths, she directs herself into one of the many alleyways at random to try and catch her breath.

She rounds one corner, another corner, another and another, getting herself as lost as possible in order to--

"Gyah!" she staggers after turning another corner, a tall shaded figure pops out just as she does. Her heart neatly jumps out of her mouth, but her body is quick to relax with an agitated sigh when she sees who it is. "Hrrh, what the fuck, Crim!" she whispers, "don't scare me like that!"

The man leans back and shrugs. She notices that the man doesn't even have a scratch on him, it makes the stress she had at him being pushed off the balcony die away instantly.

"C'mon, we need to get the fuck outta here."

Crimson nods in agreement. Together, they take the shaded alleyways at Dahlia's guidance. They end up finding the north of Ticlan's border and use it to slip away into the desert. Although they have to take a long route, they escape well enough from Barco's goons with not only the payment, but the card as well.

‎ ‎

‎ ‎

Barging into their room in Maracas, the duo let out a united sigh of relief. Crimson strides to the island which sits the plethora of magazines and takes a seat on a stool. Dahlia drops her heavy saddlebags onto the ground before she throws herself onto the bed, rolling onto her back.

"Uuugh," Dahlia groans out her exhaustion unnecessarily loud.

"Sheesh," Crimson sighs again, rubbing the sand off his eyelids. "That was a whole lotta somethin'."

"Yeah, it was. But screw them, I got paid~"

"That's what it looks like. How much money you make?"

"From both deals? In bits alone I got six-thousand five-hundred bits. With those gems from Barco? Another five-thousand."

"Eleven-thousand five-hundred? What, you wanna buy a house in Las Pegasus?"

"Pfft, that would be a huge waste. I was thinking more... Manehattan~"

Crimson flatulates with his lips and lays his head down on his right bicep, having zero clue where or what that is. "You got the money, don't let your dream end as a thought."

"I won't, but I'm not done yet. There's still way more bits to go before this mare is ready to settle down."

"Yer love of money is as strong as ever."

"Damn right. My treasury is already huge but I still want more. And I won't stop until I've got everything I want~"

"Ch, good luck with that."

"Good luck? I am luck. It's always on my side~"

Crimson closes his eyes, savoring being out of the sun. Having left the balcony door open only served to cool down the room to a comfortable level, making him savor his comfort further.

"Hey, do me a solid?"

"A solid? The hell is a solid? Ain't gonna shit in front of you, if that's what you mean."

Dahlia gags audibly. "Fuck you! A favor, dude! You live under a rock?"

"Never heard nobody use the word 'solid' as a favor."

"Well get with the times, gramps. Do me a solid."

He lifts his head, groaning at his relaxation being interrupted so soon. "What 'solid' can I do you for?"

"Go to the fridge there and get me a soda."

Crimson sees where she points her hoof. The sparkpowder fridge next to the stove stands proudly. The man slogs out of his seat and stumbles over to the fridge, opening it up and peering inside. A pleasant shock courses through his body. He doesn't need to understand the writing on the label to know what it is... "Why didn't you tell me they got dark beer?"

"You can't tell me you actually like that crap."

"Dark beer's one of the highest blessin's know to man, Deedee. But since you ain't a man, I'll excuse yer tasteless palate."

"Just give me an orange soda before I kick your ass."

Crimson retrieves one bottle of beer from the count of twenty-four, then one orange soda bottle from a count of twelve. He shuts the fridge with a soft slam, turning about-face to walk over and hand Dahlia her beverage.

"Thanks," Dahlia says as she sits up, taking it from him before swatting the cap off with her hoof effortlessly. Crimson presses his thumb against the hard-cap and pops it off with equal ease. The mare reaches her drink upward, offering a toast to the man. He accepts it with a smirk, and their bottles clank.

Down the hatch, they both take immodest swigs from their beverages. One after the other, Dahlia takes her lips off from her drink first with a satisfied sigh. "Phew, I love this stuff," Dahlia beams. "Used to drink it all the time."

"The brand or the drink?" Crimson inquires.

"Both, actually. This is one of the few pops still made since before the Great War. How about yours? You enjoying your carbonated poison?"

“Stuff’s not bad.” He offers the bottle to her, "Want a sip?"

“Hell no! I'd rather enjoy my drink instead of fight it."

The man shrugs and bring the bottle back to himself. "More fer me. Where's this from?"

"It’s local. The distillery is actually two buildings off from this hotel.”

“Hm. They export?”

“Yup. Every major city and a few towns. Remember Dodge?”

“I do.”

“There too.”

"Very nice," Crimson simpers, admiring the deep blue labeled printed with fancy words and markings. His eyes end up shifting from the bottle to the mare just past it, who looks off into the distance while taking another drink from her soda.

...

Magenta orbs shift his way, ones that become quickly questioning. "... Are we doing a staring contest now or something?"

Realization boots him back into reality with start. He blinks twice. "Mh, appears that I just lost."

"Nothing new there since you were competing against me. What's with the look, though, seriously? I got something on my face?"

"Nah. Was just thinkin'."

"About?"

"You let yer hair grow."

She looks at the strands in front of her face, then reaches around to pull the mane which rests on her neck forward with her hooves. She looks at it, almost distastefully. "Yeah, haven't had the chance to cut my mane in a while. I'm usually on top of it. Guess it slipped."

"You look nice with long hair. Least I think so."

"Eh, I don't like it. I might get around to getting it trimmed down soon. It only gets the in way. Like right now, actually." She blows some of her hair away from her right eye.

"Guess yer right."

"It's not very practical... unless that's the intention." She hits at the mop upon his head.

"Glad you're able to acknowledge good use of a tool." He crosses his arms, giving the mare another studious look. She visibly becomes squeamish under his gaze. "Pardon my starin', I just... tryin'a figure somethin' out."

"About me, or...?"

The man snaps his fingers, the idea springing into his mind. "I know what yer hair reminds me of now. You kinda look like my sister, you two have a real similar style."

"I've never met her, but if she has hair like me, that already makes her cooler than you."

"Well you'd be right about that, she's way cooler than me. Hopefully soon enough I get to see her again."

Dahlia nods twice, letting her eyes drift to the side. They haphazardly land on the opened doors of the balcony. After some silence and contemplation, she speaks up. "You wanna sit outside for a bit?"

"Sure."

The two make their way to the balconies and take their respective seats, taking a moment to finish their beverages while looking out to Equestria's waning afternoon.

‎ ‎

‎‎

"The hell was up with that card anyway?" Crimson asks, gazing out to the setting sun. Both he and Dahlia sit at the lawn chairs on the balcony, savoring more drinks and the view of Equestria.

"The playing card?" Dahlia counter-assesses.

"Yeah. Regular ol' deck card ain't nothin' to write home about."

"Crim, it's an enchanted playing card. You think Barco was about to fork over thousands for a regular fucking playing card?"

"Well what does this 'enchanted' playin' card do? Win you every hand?"

"Yeah, literally it does. It magically morphs into whatever card you want it to when you have it tucked away. It even takes the design of whatever deck the house is playing. If you know how to cheat at poker or blackjack, that card will make you a millionaire."

"No shit?"

"No shit, dude."

"Damn," he raises his brows, thinking about the implications. "Why don't you use that thing to make all the money you want? 'Stead of riskin' yer life like you did today."

"Because I don't have ears big enough to hide the card behind. I'm not lucky in that sense."

"Hide it under yer sleeve."

"I've never tried learning that, and I don't wanna. I'm not patient enough to play card games, much less cheat at them. You gotta be reeeaaally patient for that shit."

"But yer patient enough to avoid gettin' an arrow in the head from a booby trap?"

"Yup. That's how life is, Crim. Unpredictable."

"More like you tried and couldn't figure it out."

"Shut up."

"Ain't no shame in admittin' yer bad at somethin', Deedee. Like me, I fuckin' suck at throwin' darts. I can shoot a bottle a mile away, but can't hit the center of a dart board to save my life."

"Pft, what? How can you shoot a gun but not know how to throw darts?"

"How can you cheat someone outta their money but not know how to cheat at poker?"

"They're two different things, smartass."

"You just answered yer own question."

Dahlia rolls her eyes, unable to keep a smile off her face. "Yeah, well, keep your weird riddles to yourself. I'm going to bed. We have that trade with the zebras tomorrow, and you need to be serious. No screwing around."

"You see me screwin' around today?"

Dahlia bites the inside of her cheek. "... No, but... still. Be serious. This trade is gonna be bigger than both trades we had today combined."

"Combined? God damn, what are we tradin' them? Our souls?"

"The rings, Crim, the rings."

Realization strikes him. "Ah, right, the one you fabricated. Well, long as you know what yer doin'."

"Trust me, I do. Now get some rest, we'll be up bright an early."

"You rest up too. Need it after dodging them goons."

Dahlia takes a glance at him, seeming lackluster. Though, to his pleasant surprise, she smiles at him. "I'll sleep like a baby tonight, don't worry about me."

"That's what Iike to hear. G'night, Dahlia."

"... Goodnight," she replies hesitantly, turning herself to rest on the bed.

The evening gives away to night peacefully.

Next Chapter: Getting Burned Estimated time remaining: 11 Hours, 3 Minutes