Golden Reign
Chapter 53: Throes of Defiance
Previous Chapter Next ChapterA calming breeze wisps across his hair and face. Strangely, there are no scents to pick up, but much to feel. Dream-like and hazy, Crimson opens his eyes.
He finds himself laying on his back, staring up to a maelstrom of dark clouds, grey skies, jaded lightning. It takes him but a moment to register where he is. He hardly remembers what he was doing before ending up here.
He sits up, greeted with an infinite expanse of monochromatic grass. He cranes his neck to the left - his heart jumps at seeing his home, the modest construct of his property he unwillingly abandoned in New Mexico.
He holds the urge to verbally question his situation. Instead, he rises, crunching grey grass under his boots, and begins to walk to the porch. He ascends the wooden steps, one after the other, until he reaches the front door. He takes the handle, grips it firmly in a mixture of nostalgic remembrance and hesitation, and opens it. The inside of his home blows warmth and comfort, physically and emotionally. The home is lit by the lanterns and candles he knows and holds dear.
He steps in, turning his head to the right to look into the kitchen. Everything is neatly organized and untouched. He turns his head to the left. The living room is just as he remembers it, the two couches, a rocking chair, and a coffee table with a radio on it.
He walks further into the home and lets the front door close on its own. He walks straight, heading into the hall that houses the doors to the other parts of his home. Each door is closed. He proceeds to open them and peek in as he passes them.
A door to the right has the washroom, nothing is out of place, the basin and toilet are as clean as ever.
The first door on the left is Viola's old room, now used as storage. The same boxes, the same dust, everything as it was since the home was finished and resided in.
The next room of the left his the bedroom, the one which they share. The bed is made, the comforter and pillows are undisturbed. Grey light peers through the translucent curtains and give the room a feeling he cannot describe.
The last room on the right is also storage, and strangely, the door was left slightly ajar. He peeks through the gap, seeing nothing misplaced. He closes it and takes a step back, standing idle in the hall for a moment.
He returns to the junction between the living room and the kitchen. Everything is just as he remembers. This manifestation brightens his memory. He is happy to see it again...
... but to his great disappointment, Viola is nowhere to be found. Not even a trace of her spending idle time here, save for the opened door. It is very much like her to leave everything neat and nearly perfect. How he misses her... so much. So much so, he feels his stomach hollowing out. He feels his eyes becoming moist as they scan around the home idly.
Regardless of how he feels, It is good that she heeded his advice not to sit in his Rift for the rest of time, but...
He shakes his head. There are no buts. She is doing well for herself back at home...
... hopefully.
He walks to the rocking chair, turns languidly, and lets himself fall back into it. He rocks steadily from the force of his drop. He lets the chair comfort him as he fights the urge to let tears fall.
Dahlia darts her dilated gaze around the room in a panic, having been teleported sooner than she could realize it had happened. She is still visibly shaken from the fight she had to witness, rubbing her eyes promptly to wipe the forming emotion from them. She notes that Crimson stands right next to her, his mouth slightly hung with no expression to be discerned, yet his eyes passively glow from under his hair. It is faint, hardly noticeable, but she thinks it is the reason he is even standing right now.
She looks forward. To her front lies an oak desk with a fat, very displeased looking stallion sat behind it. More than just displeased, it looks like he is ready to pop a blood vessel and stroke. He has two unicorn henchmen at either side, totaling to four, and a very attractive mare just beside him. Behind him is a window that looks out to southern Equestria - the forecasted rainfall patters along the glass.
Just behind her to her left, another henchmen stands posted in the corner of the room next to the door. Another henchmen stands adjacent just behind Crimson on the opposite corner. Six total goons.
The fat stallion, who comes to be the center of attention, leans forward, putting his hooves on the table. “… Good… evening,” his gritty voice huffs, visibly trying to stay composed.
“… Hey,” Dahlia replies mistrustfully. She cannot stop her eyes from bouncing between him and the show-mare who still wears the necklace donning the relic.
"Heh." He twitches a smile, one somewhat unhinged. "Come on, now... beautiful mare like yourself don't need to be so... distant."
"I think I'll stay where I'm at, thanks."
Fighting to breathe, the stallion coughs, “Hrh, sure. Sure. ... That was… a good show ya’ put out there… with yer human.”
Eyes are directed to Crimson now. Still, he stands there, saying or doing nothing except idle with his mouth hung.
“He’s something alright,” Dahlia states dismissively, though takes one step closer to him to stand right by his side.
“Hrh. Hehe. Hrh!” the fat stallion enters a coughing fit. The room waits for him as he struggles, slowly but surely, he calms down and clears his throat. “Hrrhh… yeah. Yeah he is. … ‘Lil missy…” he gives Dahlia a pop-eye’d glare, “… d’you know who I am?”
“Can’t say I do,” she remarks snidely.
The stallion forms a cheek to cheek grin. “Then… allow me to introduce myself. My name… is Rhye Colton. Maybe ya’ heard of me. This is my establishment.”
Dahlia squints. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. Look, my human took the pit fair and square. You gonna give me my prize now or what?”
It sounds like Rhye tries to laugh again, but is drowned by another brief cough. “Prize? Hurh. Better. Even better than a prize, for a feisty yet gorgeous little mare like yerself. I’ve got a proposition for ya’.” Dahlia glares at him in silence, giving him the room to continue. “Let me be frank. I know you didn't use yer real name in the sign-up. Yer human just cost me millions worth’a damages today. And let’s just say I don’t take kindly to it. You'll need to pay me back, well in kind.” He scans his orbs up and down Dahlia's form with a licking of his teeth, eliciting his intentions clearly.
Disgusted, Dahlia throws her head back. “What? No fucking way! He killed your fighters in a fight! Duh! Don’t put up a bet if you’re not willing to lose.”
The henchmen and the show-mare all have dilated pupils due to the gossamer attitude Dahlia has towards their boss. The stallion in question becomes ruddier, vibrating in his seat. “Heh! Well!” Rhye begins, opening his hooves to present the warehouse, “see, this here… this place here…” the henchmen around close their eyes, “IS MY FUCKING PIT! IT’S MY PIT! AND IT’S MY FUCKING RULES! BITCH!” Dahlia rears back and squints from the booming volume of Rhye’s screaming, trying not to get spit on even from her distance. “But, heeegh…” Rhye sits back down, acting as if he was always calm and unruffled, “… my proposition. Hrh. There’s somethin’ in the air tonight – I’m feelin’ mighty generous… so instead of havin’ you and yer human here reaped like the sow you are… you’ll be my playthang, AND…” he stops, presenting a very wide, gritty smile, “… I’ll even let you pick a prize. You get Equestria's best cock and a prize! Hah! Truly a double whammy, you know what I'm sayin'? I ain't normally this kind, but… like I said, I got that good hair today. So how ‘bout it? That cute little ass of yers as my dime piece, and you get to pick a prize.” His smile somehow becomes even larger, as if he just said the most gracious thing in existence.
Dahlia looks far from amused, being no stranger to this type of treatment. She glares at this stallion who is literally rejoicing in his own existence. “Huh,” she huffs, “what a deal.”
Rhye laughs once. “Hah! Right! Damn sure is! Hurry up 'n pick already, I can feel the blood flowin' to my loins, heha! What’s it gonna be, eh? You want yer bits? The two-mil, right into yer treasury account? Or you want the relic?”
Dahlia barely contemplates the offer. It is very obvious that none of this is fair and they are being forced to play his game. She gives the man a brief glance, seeing that he is still completely unresponsive. Her heartrate accelerates at this morbid sight, hoping he is still conscious. With a swallowing of saliva and tension, she states firmly, “How about... go fuck yourself, and give me my prize.”
The stallion’s expression contorts wickedly, his blood pressure hits the roof. With a scream from the diaphragm, “HRAAAAA!” he envelops both her and Crimson in his magic. Dahlia struggles as she is lifted into the air by her neck. Crimson is as well, but does not even bother fighting it. He lets his limp body be hung from the ethereal noose. “YOU DON’T GET IT, YOU STUPID FUCK!” Rhye belts. “THAT AIN'T ON THE TABLE! YOU DON’T WALK INTO MY HOUSE AND TAKE MY SHIT! YOU WALK INTO MY HOUSE, AND YOU DO WHAT I SAY! I GET WHAT I WANT HERE! YOU GET THAT, BITCH!?”
Dahlia struggles to take in oxygen, much less able to let out a reply. She hates herself for not having expected this trickery.
“YOU… YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH, HRRH. YOU REALLY DONE PISSED ME OFF. YOU DONE EMBARRASSED ME. I SHOULD SPOON YOUR EYES OUT YOUR FUCKIN’ HEAD, AND FUCK YOUR SKULL!” The henchmen and the show-mare only watch in fear. The show-mare even takes a few steps away from the blistering Rhye.
“Ghak! Hck!” Dahlia’s wings flap in her struggle. She does her best to turn her toiling gaze to Crimson, who looks like a hung corpse.
Rhye steams rage out of his nose like a bull. His twitching frown begins to reform into a demonic smile, watching as saliva begins to stream at the corners of her mouth. “You… hehe, you, bitch… you’re cute when you struggle. It’s… hrrh… stars damn it, you're a cute fuckin' thing~”
Dahlia’s eyes bulge from her sockets. Her struggle becomes even more frantic, causing the magic suspending her to pressure her neck. The grip becomes tighter, the very little air she was able to take in turns to nothing.
“Hhrhehehe… hehehehe…” The fat stallion reclines back in his fancy leather chair, salivating in anticipation. The henchmen turn their trepidation to amusement, but the show-mare looks utterly mortified. “I can't stay mad at you, beautiful. Heh... heheheh…”
Dahlia struggles to look at Crimson again. He is still not acting, still not moving. Her heart is sinking.
The belt around the stallion’s overgrown waist is enveloped in his magic, and with a finesse with his ethereal essence, his erection is displayed to everyone in the room. Once it is free and he laughs a bit further, admiring himself, he begins to bring Dahlia closer.
“Hrah!” Dahlia’s slowly closing eyes begin to run with tears as she turns them to the man, failing to cry out her dismay. “Crhim… saahh…”
Rhye levitates her closer, turning her around and aiming her flank his way. He grips the base of her tail, giddy with laughter, savoring the chance to peek at a new, fresh innocence. His magic pulls her tail up and he tilts his head down, so close to getting an unadulterated peek underneath.
“Die.”
Everyone in the room quakes at the sudden booming utterance that comes from the semi-limp human. Due to focusing on the heinous act of degeneracy, everyone completely failed to notice that the Arch Angel’s eyes became totally enveloped in gold, vibrantly glowing under his black hair.
Rhye moves Dahlia out of the way, both he and his erection glaring over to Crimson. His body tightens at seeing the man descend onto the ground, no longer being levitated by his magic despite it still being around his neck. “HWAOH!” he screams and tosses Dahlia back, right on top of the show-mare. The two collide and hit the carpet together, Dahlia gasping for air, and the show-mare grunting in pain.
The puppet that is Crimson's body suddenly twirls a spinning backfist and bashes the skull of the henchmen that is right behind him. The henchmen's upper head becomes a battered mess which paints brain and blood on the walls.
"HOAAAAAAAH!" Everyone in the room screams in horror. The other henchmen located next to the door channels a bolt of magic, while the others try restraining him. The goon fires off his bolt of magic, aimed to Crimson's chest.
It connects, flesh sears at his left pectoral, and it throws his left arm back, though it fails to stop his stride. He leaps towards the goon that fired at him, and within the time of a fearful gasp, he grasps the goon's head and smashes it into the wall, the one made from several layers of industrial steel. The wall hardly dents, but the goon’s head becomes paste, just as his comrade's.
More screams. More terror. The possessed man stumbles his body towards the desk which Rhye sits. All five stallions, Rhye and his four remaining henchmen, further press their magical binds to try and stop him. To no avail, he arrives at the oak desk without a zombified step missed, and he puts his hand under the table, flinging two-hundred pounds of polished wood to the left into the two henchmen standing at Rhye’s right. The desk cripples them upon impact, smashes them into the wall, and gores them like flies to a swatter.
Rhye shrieks like a colt, trembling with his cock still out. He and his remaining two henchmen still try to grasp him again and again with their magic, but for a reason they cannot comprehend, he is unaffected like he was before. He looks to his henchmen, sputtering and fumbling in his panic. “F-Fh-Fuh-Fucking get him! Get him!”
The quaking henchmen begin to charge their horns to fire magical bolts. The time it takes their horns to rev up, the angel extends his hand. Billions of small molecules form from around him and piece together a greatsword of golden light. This act befuddles the unicorn henchmen trying to focus their magic. They manage to charge their attack, they simultaneously fire bolts that melt through flesh, one hitting Crimson on the stomach and the other in the center of his collarbone. His skin sears and singes, his upper body lurches backwards from the force of the hits. He briefly remains bent, as if pulled back to pass under a limbo bar, before he reels forward, giving little time for the henchmen to scream their dismay. The angel swings the sword diagonally to cut the first henchmen in the neck and the second one across the chest in one swoop. The force of the swing bats them to the ground with gashes that glow with magma-like gold, which quickly fades out to a normal laceration. Their discombobulated forms pool blood from their wounds unnaturally, as if an anti-coagulant has affected the cut.
Crimson now turns to Rhye, and for whatever sickening motive, he has not gotten soft. As if he did not recognize he would eventually become the next target, he howls and tries to jump from his chair at the realization of coming death. Crimson lifts his foot and axe-kicks the stallion in mid air, driving him directly onto the floor.
The kick and slam alone is enough to pulverize Rhye's bones and wind him out. The angel walks to him and lifts the sword above his head, his body lopsided as if piloted by invisible strings.
“Aagh, ahrh, w-what in—rrh—the seven levels of tartarus are you!?” Rhye cries in desperation. He receives nothing as a response. “M-My grand—rhh-papi… will find you... y-you'll--hrrrh-- you'll never rest... he--hrhh-he... HE WILL GUT YOU LIKE THE FUCKIN' PIG YOU ARE--!”
The stallion’s head comes clean off with a horizontal swipe of the greatsword. Blood sputters from his fallen head and open neck, and the body becomes limp. The rambunctious stallion is no more.
Crimson’s sword disperses into the aether, his hand briefly stays at the pose of holding the handle before it relaxes. After two seconds of idling, he turns his staggering body around, returning to the two mares who have since recovered and are now mortified at his presence. He briefly ignores Dahlia and reaches down to the necklace around the show-mare's neck. Her river of tears and sobs halt for but a second when he rips the necklace off with a single quick pull. She yelps at the force of the tug before scooting across the ground away from him, until her back presses the wall.
He clenches it tightly, bringing it up to his face to gawk at the orange orb inside the pendant.
He proceeds to pick up Dahlia with his free arm, holding her close to his blood-stained chest. She quakes in fright, gazing up at him while tears still stream down her face. The angel turns and pushes the leather chair aside by walking into it, coming into contact with the office window. He raises his leg for a push-kick, smashing a sizable hole in the window before he steps up onto the sill. His form shatters more of the window off until he stands on the sill completely, his body further gashed by protruding glass shards. He protects Dahlia from coming into contact with the glass, but takes no regard for himself.
He briefly stands at the edge, sweeping thoughts graze his unconscious mind, as if reflecting in a dream. Nothing feels real, yet the world happens around him as his body moves on its own accord.
He leans forward and turns one-eighty, dropping three stories from Rhye’s office. He plummets from the highest window at the back of the warehouse, coming down along with the rain that falls from the clouds above. Dahlia squeals when he hits the ground on his back. He remains on the cool, moist dirt for a moment, relishing in the freshness of the earth while staring up at the dark grey sky. He feels Dahlia panting against him, sniffling, trying to keep herself from weeping further.
He rises to his feet like a reanimated corpse. Throwing his lagging head left and right, he spots no one leaving the warehouse. Show must be still going on, even after they left. No one saw him jump out the window, no wandering guards or goons around the mine or warehouse, possibly due to the crowd control that had to be done during his fight.
Without hesitation, and nothing trying to stop him now, his form dances with golden dust. His wings and halo combust into reality, and as soon as they piece together, a single powerful flap of his wings jets him into the raining sky.
With every emotion pouring out at once, Dahlia silently watches him as he carries her across the sky. She cannot even begin a thought. Her heart is heavy, filled with fear, trepidation, dread, concern... and veneration.
The ground below becomes distant and fogged from the weather. The angel soars towards Salt Lick, a faded beacon of gold past the grey clouds.
>~~<
As night falls, the city of Salt Lick has no residents outside the comfort of their homes. All is quite and peaceful.
...
FwPWWSCH!
A mass descends from high above, onto the road in front of the Rooted Greens. He lands on his two feet which splats mud in a large circle around him. No angelic features to be found, it appears as if some man had just rained down.
Quaking, Dahlia braced deeply for the landing but finds herself confused when the force of the impact was null for her, absorbed by the man's hold. She directs her rigid stare to him, seeing his half-lidded eyes still gently glowing under his hair, though not as prominently as before.
The man walks. He ascends the small staircase to the saloon's porch and walks into the swinging doors carelessly. The few residents that are found still partaking in food or drink turn their grave attention to the sight. Even the barkeep, still cooking and baking, bestows a squinted grimace to what he sees.
No words, no whispers, no offers to help, no condemnation, not a gasp or question. The room is silent as Crimson tracks mud through the saloon, trudging to the staircase and climbing it to the top. He disappears into the second floor, eyes still watch the direction in which he left. Then, not five seconds later, conversation resumes like normal, as if nothing ever happened.
As soon as Crimson arrives at their door, Dahlia fishes through her shirt pocket and retrieves the room key. Held close enough to it, she pushes the key into the knob and unlocks the door while still held by the man. He opens it and steps them both in, kicking the door behind him shut. He carefully bends over to set Dahlia on the floor, and she comes off of his hold. She takes a step back and stares up at him. His eyes are still glowing under his hair. It's missable, very much so, but where she stands displays it clearly for her to see. Her heart excites at watching it, the golden magma which swirls in his irises... which fades like a light flickering off.
Dahlia gasps woefully when he suddenly falls forward and drops the necklace onto the ground, the force keeping his body operating having now vanished. She dashes up to him and catches what she can of his falling body with her back, gritting her teeth and grunting under his weight. She carefully places him on the ground on his back and splays him out like a star, making sure he's evenly laid.
Not a moment after she gets him rested, a knock is heard at her door. She takes irritation at being disturbed, which is the last thing she wants to be. She trots around the man and opens the door a crack.
She sees it is the barkeep again. Raising her brows, she opens it all the way. The stallion with the stern expression holds a bucket of water on his back and several towels in his hoof.
Dahlia sees what he has brought, finding guilt in herself for being disgruntled at his help. No words are exchanged, no words are needed. The stallion lets himself in a few steps, setting the water bucket and towels down at the feet of the man. He turns, gives Dahlia a curt nod, and leaves. She shuts the door behind him, putting her forehead on the door for a moment. She clenches her teeth, trying to keep herself together, before coming off of it and returning to Crimson.
She spends some time with the brought provisions to clean Crimson up from most of his blood, dirt, and grime. She saves some of the towels to dry him off and gently moves his limbs around to make sure she did not miss a spot. Once he is relatively clean, she cleans and dries herself with the remaining towels, albeit she was not nearly as mucked up as he was.
After the cleansing, Dahlia musters her strength to pull Crimson from under his armpits, just as she has before. She drags him to the bed, props him at the side of it, then climbs onto the bed to pull him up and on top of it. With puffs of exertion, she is able to get him comfortably rested on the bed with his head on a pillow.
She sighs and briefly admires her handiwork, successful at getting him cleaned, dried, and in bed. She sits on the bed right next to him, her magenta orbs glittering as she silently stares at his comatose state.
...
Tears rampantly form in her eyes. She cannot hold it in anymore. Everything that just happened, and even everything that has happened in the past, rams into her pith like a freight train. She begins to sob terribly, letting her eyes close and her chin tuck. Drop after drop, the bed stains with her. Her breath cuts off between her hiccupping weeps again and again. The only company she has is the pattering of rain on the windows of the room.
She crawls close to Crimson, hugs his arm, and cries herself to sleep at his side.
Their collective hooves clop against the pristine marble floors of Canterlot’s streets as they make their way to the immense stadium located at the north-west end of the city.
The night is young. Moonlight and Magnifying Glass walk together, the mare with a deep blue scarf around her neck, her pink saddlebags around her waist, and a filly sitting on her back. Furi hugs the back of her neck, pressing up against the unicorn’s deep blue and pink mane. Magnifying wears his fine white suit and has a spiffy gelled combing of his mane.
“Are you excited, dear?” Magnifying asks Moonlight, having some excitement in his voice himself.
The mare keeps her eyes to ground, where she always keeps them. “Y-Yes, v-very much so. I haven’t been to the Canterlot Games in… um…”
“Seven years!”
Moonlight puts up a wobbly smile, failing to hide her trepidation to his uncanny knowledge. “… I-Indeed.”
The trio approach a line of ponies waiting to greet the entrance booth to the stadium. The closer they get, the more audible the festivities become. It isn’t long before they pass through the tall metal gates surrounding the stadium that an event coordinator pony spots them.
The pegasus stallion wearing company clothes and hat flies up to the researchers, landing at their front with a wide smile. “Head Researcher, Scribe, it’s an honor to have your attendance tonight! Please, use the express lane to the right.” He points to the right side of ticket booth, just off from the incredibly long line of ponies trying to get in. “Refer to your tickets for your seating arrangements!”
“Thank you, good sir!” Magnifying responds confidently for the group. They move to the advised entry point, presenting their tickets to a make-up polished mare inside the booth. She takes their three tickets with her pink magic and tears their tickets in half, returning the bottom portion to them. Moonlight takes them and slips into her saddlebags.
The booth mare charges her horn again and obtains something from under her desk. She levitates two silver rings up and towards them. Moonlight looks terrified at the little ring as it approaches her, but Magnifying looks content. The rings are slipped over their horns and sit at their base. Even without channeling her magic, Moonlight can feel the ring already sapping away at her. “Please enjoy the show!” the booth mare happily says while waving them through.
The three enter the softly lit cement passage that leads into the stadium. The concern across Moonlight’s face doesn’t let up, feeling more than just vulnerable at having her magic silenced by the ring. Magnifying notices this and decides to call to her, "It's okay, Moonlight. It's just for the Games! You'll forget it's there!"
Obviously still dissatisfied, Moonlight reaches up to touch the ring lightly. Her mouth drops in shock when it doesn't budge at all. "Wah?"
"The wearer can't take the ring off, silly. Please, dear, don't fret! It was made and perfected by yours truly, remember? I can assure nothing will happen to you, and it'll come off clean as a whistle once the Games are done!" He points to his own ring which he confidently dons. Moonlight only finds some comfort in his words, but still forces herself to swallow her distress.
As artificial light floods the passage, the clamors of the crowd become louder. Once they step out onto the bleachers, taking in how absolutely tiny they are in comparison to this gargantuan structure.
Moonlight manually reaches into her saddlebags and retrieves their tickets to find where their seats are located. She feels embarrassed to see that they’re in the VIP section of the east box. Celestia really went above and beyond for no real reason, she would have been happy with any seat…
… She would have been even happier if she could stay in her room. Nevertheless, through her mentor’s and Magnifying’s coaxing, here she is. The only relief she feels is that Furi gets to experience the Games for the first time in her life.
Magnifying leans his face closer to Moonlight’s, taking a glance at the tickets as well. “Wowie! The VIP seats?” This comment causes the light blush on her cheeks to spread to the rest of her face. A few ponies around heard him and gawk over with wide eyes. “Ah, I know where those are. This way, dear.” He begins to lead the way, looking back at her to ensure she follows. Moonlight does so, keeping her head low and her eyes on the ground. A quick glance towards the box where she’s assigned to sit shows that there aren’t too many ponies there, and there are no others next to her seat. Her tension relieves slightly at this.
Once the three find their seats, Furi whimpers to Moonlight when she is set down on her own seat. With a warm smile, Moonlight takes her seat then reaches to the filly, picking her up and setting her down at her belly.
Magnifying watches this interaction with a simper. Once Furi notices the stallion staring at her, the contentment that was found on her face vanishes. She looks away with a frown. This causes Magnifying to do the same, blushing a little at his cheeks. He’s just glad Moonlight didn’t witness this interaction, her being preoccupied observing the air balloon with multicolored floodlights appearing in the sky above the stadium.
Before long, the announcer behind a microphone on a levitating stage in the middle of the coliseum advocates for the commencing of the Games. The crowd cheers and whistles their excitement, including Furi delivering an ecstatic, “Yaaaay!” Moonlight and Magnifying exchange a smile with each other.
>~~~~<
Time seems to fly by like wind, before long the Games are coming to a close. The competition nears its end, and the winners are declared as they stand proud on elevated podiums.
Crowds celebrate the victories despite who actually won. Merriment and cheer is shared between all, and as the event ends, everyone rises from their seats filled with dopamine and satisfaction.
“Yaaaa, yaaaaa!” Furi cheers, bouncing lightly in between Moonlight’s hold. “Momo! Yaaaa!” She cheers for a specific mare who dons a second place medal.
Moonlight leans down to Furi and murmurs to her, “Ready to go home, little one?”
“Mm!” she nods twice.
With Furi's permission granted, Moonlight and Magnifying come off their padded chairs and begin to take their exit. Moonlight cherishes the fact that they are allowed to take the VIP exit, where far less attendants are flooding to leave.
Returning to the entry booths, Magnifying allows Moonlight to proceed first, where the mare excitedly trots forward. The mare at the booth happily takes the ring from Moonlight's horn and an instant wave of distress euphorically floods out of her body.
Magnifying is next as the mare takes his off as well. Rather than return it to the inside of the booth, she keeps it held out for him. He takes it slyly into his hoof and shoves it into his suit’s chest pocket, glancing quickly to ensure no one saw him. He winks at the mare at the booth, and she winks right back.
Stepping back out into the marbled streets under the shining moon, Magnifying can’t help but release a giddy chuckle. “Heha, wow! The Canterlot Games! That was incredible, wasn’t it?"
Moonlight returns a giggle and nods in agreement. “It certainly was."
"The flaming toss was especially exhilarating!"
"Ooo, that it was! Though, I was more partial to the underwater magic casting competition!”
“Hahaha, a classic! It never ceases to amaze me what kind of talent the Games pull each year! It makes me think some of those ponies are superheroes or something!”
“My thoughts exactly! Oo!” Moonlight taps her hooves in excitement, causing Furi to bounce a little and giggle behind her. “That reminds me! The earth pony track racer!”
“Clementine?” Magnifying asks in assumption, already knowing who she's referring to.
“Yes! Doesn’t she sort of remind you of—”
“Margareet, the Wind Rider?” they both finish together. They share in laughter at having the same idea.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Moonlight cheers her excitement. “I was soooo sad when I found out they were discontinuing the comic series!”
“Hoo, I know!” Magnifying throwing his head back and a hoof to his forehead in theatrical exaggeration. “I really wanted to know what happened after she stopped the cold war between the minotaurs and the hippogryphs!”
Moonlight huffs her disappointment, yet still smiles. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
They continue to exchange contentment as they return to the Canterlot castle. They both venture to return to their rooms, retiring for the night as they are both up a bit later than they are used to.
They give each other their goodbyes at the front of Moonlight’s room door, keeping their departure easy and quiet as to not disturb the already sleeping filly.
As Moonlight disappears behind her door, Magnifying waves his hoof. Once the door closes completely, he still holds his smile… which slowly turns shadowed.
The morning sun fails to punch through the heavy rainclouds of central Equestria. Water still falls from the sky, playing its unique song while using the land as its instrument.
Dahlia sighs deeply as her body returns to the waking world. She realizes she is holding something warm, unsure of what it actually is until she open her eyes. It is Crimson’s arm.
She feels like she should back away and put up a fit of embarrassment, but… nothing inside her tells her to do that. In fact, it is the very opposite. She wants to keep holding it, especially since the man has yet to wake.
Concern wraps around her heart at his grim state, though it is tentative and mostly eased by the firm rising and falling of his chest. His breathing has ceased its rough rasping and returned to normal overnight.
She cannot believe that he is recovering so quickly. She should know better, having hear plenty of talk between the underlings of the Consortium and the Horseshoes. The angel who protects everyone and lives through all adversity. She thinks it all sounds so stupid when rumored, but witnessing it in the flesh is anything but.
After laying next to him for a bit longer than she anticipated, she reluctantly lets go of his arm and rises from the bed. The first thing to draw her attention is Crimson’s clothing next to her, which she pushed aside to lay him and herself down. She catches glimpse of the hardly-noticeable bloodstains that dot around his duster – the bloodstains caused by the zebra tribe. Retaking that day is making her feel emotions she does not want to feel.
She reaches to grab the dark grey duster and inspect it closer. She realizes quickly that these are the exact same clothes he had when he arrived in Equestria, only dyed a different color, and this simple fact drives severe consternation in her heart. There is only one pony who would have these clothes, one insane fucking lunatic that he would have obtained these from. Now she has a crippling feeling that he has been waiting for an opportune moment to talk about this, but... deep inside, she hopes he does not bring it up, even if she is happy that he is reunited with something that means a lot to him.
Her gaze slowly drags over to the unconscious man, staring at him in disbelief. She has no idea what he has done or what he has been through during his time in her home world… but just this…
She looks back down at the duster with a frown. She continues examining it, feeling odd bumps and grooves inside of it. She knows it would be prying, but she cannot really contain herself or her curiosity very well. She goes through his pockets.
She finds the four boxes of dart-flinger ammo inside his two outside pockets, which she expected since she saw him put them in there. She rummages through his inner pockets, noting that they are much deeper than the outside two. In one she finds the pistol itself and decides not to mess with something she does not understand. She leaves it alone and finishes through the other pocket.
She finds two objects of interest, pulling both out. One is a small metal ball which she swears she has seen before, and the other is a… bunny plushy? She scrutinizes the round sphere that is this red and white stuffed animal. It is not like any stuffed animal she has ever seen, and at attempting to find a label or manufacturer’s tag, she does not find one. It might be made by hand. … Or hoof.
She sets down the plush and fixates on the smaller metal ball. She pops it open with her hoof and looks inside. Ah, right, she remembers what it is. It is the super moss the Black Horseshoe Brains invented. She comes to wonder how this man obtained such a niche acquisition. She feels hungry, but not nearly enough to want to suffer through this stuff.
She pockets his belongings again and returns his duster to the pile of his clothes. She gives him another glance, curious and wondering…
She comes off the bed with a sigh that acclimates her to the waking world. She approaches her saddlebags and gets them flipped over her back. She then retrieves the relic which was left on the ground overnight. Stuffing it into her bag, she moves for the door and opens it.
She can not stop herself from turning to give him one more gaze. There is a feeling of déjà vu, one which she fails to ignore despite her attempt.
>~~~<
Dahlia staggers when the transponder throws her into Cosma’s lab. She shakes her head and blinks her eyes, looking around with haste. She spots Cosma at her desk, speaking to Kleid on the other side.
Everyone exchanges a quiet stare, just before empathy takes Kleid and Cosma’s expression. “Welcome back, Wisp," the stallion calls.
“Hey,” Dahlia replies dispiritedly.
“You are alone?” he asks solemnly.
“Yeah,” she responds the same way.
“I’m very sorry for your loss. I take it the mission was an unfortunate failure?”
Dahlia’s ears perk up, now realizing that her mopiness wasn’t helping their assumption. “Oh, uh, n-no, no.” She reaches into her bags and takes out the necklace which contains the relic. At its mere sight, both Kleid and Cosma gasp with opened cheek to cheek smiles. “Sky’s… resting, right now. It was hard on him.”
“HOhahaha!” Kleid bursts from excitement. “I wouldn’t doubt that! Give him my greatest regards!”
“Hahaha, wow wow wow! Your human is incredible!” Cosma follows up. “We need to get Ruby in here!”
Just as the name was spoken, the door to Cosma’s lab rises. The aforementioned mare stands at the frame, glaring in with dead-pan seriousness. “I heard my name.” She glances from her lab mates to the foreigner by the transponder. Her eyes hone in on the relic she presents, and her orange orbs widen tremendously. “… No way.” She stands frozen for a second.
“Way,” Dahlia counters cheekily.
She is taken aback when Ruby dashes up to her, looming right over her repeating, “Noway noway noway noway noway!” Her enthusiasm even confounds Kleid and Cosma.
“Wohow, Ruby,” Kleid chuckles, “I’ve never seen you this excited in my life! And I’ve know you since we were foals!”
“ThisIsLiterallyTheMostExcitingThingEver,Kleid!” Her mouth forms vowels at an alarming pace. She glances up to Dahlia, as if begging for mercy. “M-May I?”
Dahlia nods and holds it a bit further out for her to take. “Knock yourself out.”
Ruby’s appropriately colored magic takes the relic as carefully as a delicate egg, her enthusiasm making her irises wobble. “… It’s so beautiful. The colors, the dance of the enchantment between its insulated confinement…”
“A true marvel of magic,” Kleid comments before facing Dahlia. “Much of our time and resources went into trying to take it. You and your human have proved to be an outstanding asset to our team, Wisp. You managed to accomplish we could only dream of! It has me thinking. What was your strategy to pry it from Rhye's grubby hooves? It couldn't be as simple as win the four rounds, right?"
Dahlia regresses back into a defensive shell. She squints her eyes and keeps them planted on the ground. Her reaction does not bode well with the Brains around, especially not Kleid.
"Wisp," Kleid calls to her again, "we require an answer. And if you know what is best for you..." he steps closer to her, leering with a popped eye, "... you will answer honestly."
The constricting energy she feels swamps her. She did not plan on lying to them but now feels inclined to in case they do not like the outcome. "... Sky managed to win. I won't drag this out by giving you the play-by-play, but he killed the other humans, plain and simple. Rhye wasn't too happy about this and used his magic to... pull us into his office or something."
"He... pulled you?"
"Yeah. Teleported us or something."
Kleid becomes visibly distraught at this. "Wisp, my sincerest apologies. I had no idea he was capable of translocation magic. I would have warned you if I knew this."
"It's... whatever," she states simply, obviously still pushing through the shock.
"This is nothing to scoff at. Even our most powerful mages struggle at perfect translocation magic. But, obviously the outcome is favorable despite this. What occurred after he translocated you into his office?"
"Tried 'bargaining' with me. He didn't like what I had to say, so he... well, he tried killing Sky and raping me."
The Brains around look much more empathetic as she finishes her explanation. "So you won fair and square," Ruby begins, "but like the child he is, he couldn't bare the thought of being bested. Typical."
"And your solution to this dilemma?" Kleid follows up.
Dahlia clenches her jaw briefly before responding. "... Sky protected me. He killed Rhye and his thugs."
The Brains appear exceptionally grave at this disclosure. Kleid especially, letting his eyes bounce around different parts of the floor. "I understand the necessity," he explains, "but this has made our job much more complicated. It isn't long until the Doyens hear of this and begin a Family-wide search of the perpetrator. You may not be pleased to know this, but they won't put a hoof to us. Not myself, not my team. We are marked as essential by two of the Doyens, and even given the liberty to conduct as we please with our research - so long as we obtain the relics for them. Instead, they will track down your human and kill him. Maybe yourself included, depending on how the Doyens feel about you." Dahlia shivers. Kleid sighs in acknowledgement to her emotion. "That is the reality of the situation. I, and the rest of my subordinates, will attempt to aid you as much as possible before the Family identifies your human. But once he caught..." Kleid turns away, keeping focused on the window that looks outside of the lab. "... We can harbor either of you no longer. We will have to surrender you to the Family. I tell you all of this ahead of time so you are prepared for such an event."
Fighting against thousands of mental tracks, Dahlia suppresses her morose musing well enough to harden up and stern her expression. "... Then we don't have any time to waste. We'll get you what you need, and you'll get me what I need."
Kleid nods with a serious smile. "Indeed." He looks to Cosma, who's eyes widen as she realizes her cue. The mare reaches into her desk with her magic and pulls out three folders and one notebook, levitating them over to Dahlia. "There is half of the documentation left behind by Keeper before he defected from us. The other half awaits you when you successfully retrieve the remaining two relics."
Dahlia takes the documents from Cosma's magic and hastily organizes them into her saddlebags. "Then let's talk business. The last two relics, what's your plan on getting them?"
"We have prepared notes and paperwork for you to study in the mean, and there's a... special spell, that we're codifying that we shall expose to you later. We will wait for your human to be adequately rested before we commence, which should give you a slew of time to study the notes. There is no easy way to say this, but this will be your toughest assignment yet… one so delicate… one so potentially volatile…” His expression begins to progressively unhinge, his eyes glare into Dahlia's very soul. It is plain to see how this endeavor is stressing the stallion. “If you happen to fail, not only are you going to be hurting… all of Equestria will.” Dahlia’s ears fall onto her head. “So listen, Wisp… and listen very, very closely…”
>~~~~<
The tan mare flicks her rump up to adjust her saddlebags as she walks back to Salt Lick city. Her deep contemplation is directed to the ground.
Returning to the Rooted Greens saloon, she arrives back up to the second floor and heads for her door. She stops when she sees the barkeep sweeping up here. They share a glance.
“Need somethin’?” the barkeep asks.
“… I’ll take another soup and crackers meal, I guess,” she responds halfheartedly. She reaches into her saddlebags and gets her coin-purse out. She finds herself stopped by the stern stallion when he throws his hoof forward.
“On the house.”
“… Really?” she asks, getting a nod from the stallion. “Why?”
The stallion squints, his eyes quickly shift left and right before they stop on her again. “A friend of mine likes you. Let’s leave it at that.”
Dahlia takes a moment to accept what he said, but eventually responds, “Thanks.” She nods gratefully and resumes entering her room. The stallion gawks at her in silence until she leaves his field of view.
Closing the door behind herself, she is relieved to see Crimson still unmoved and asleep in the bed, knocking away the fear that someone may have taken him. She climbs back onto the bed and sits on the edge of it by the man’s feet, dropping her saddlebags off just behind her. She ponders silently about everything Kleid told her.
Out of the many things she has done in her life, the fearlessness she keeps against the unknown and the potentially dangerous, this… this is taking it all to a new height. The already mountainous stress of this next task only worsens when she thinks about the murder of the Doyen's grandson. She does not fear much for herself, but instead for the man next to her, who has yet to recover. She looks to him, at how he peacefully sleeps after what he has had to endure. She cannot begin to imagine what else he had to go through just to get to this point.
With great hesitance, she reaches out to touch his shin. At making contact with his skin, she feels too embarrassed to continue even though he is unable to react to it. She turns away from him, trying to rid herself of whatever it is she feels inside her chest.
After a moment, she reaches for her bags and rummages through them, retrieving the plans and notes she was given. She sullenly studies them, waiting for her food to arrive.
A yawning Moonlight returns to her room in Canterlot Castle at the break of dawn, having taken Furi back to the orphanage. The strict rules that govern over the institution do not allow the orphans to leave for extended periods of time during the weekdays.
She is extremely grateful to the Countess who runs the orphanage, who allowed a one-time exception to give Furi not only a day out to enjoy the Canterlot Games, but also the night to spend it with her. The only stipulation was that Furi must be returned at the break of dawn, so that is what she accomplished, even if it caused her to lose a few more hours of sleep than she is used to. The memories formed last night were more than worth it to her.
As she rounds the quiet early-morning halls of the Castle, she gives meek helloes to the patrolling guards. Nothing out of the ordinary on her trepid trot back to her room...
... except. "Magnifying?" she whispers to herself after she spots the stallion waiting outside her door, who has not noticed her come around the corner of the hall. She stops herself from continuing briefly, taking a cautious look down to the stallion.
Said stallion appears to be... looking into the lock of her door? Perhaps trying to see through it? There is nothing he could see, it is all lock and metal to prevent such a thing from transpiring. Still, he attempts.
"Magnifying?"
"HAhAH!" the stallion hisses up like a startled cat, eyes dilating before he spins around to face the mare who snuck up on him. "M-M-Moonlight!?"
"H-Hi," she responds while taking a step back from his discombobulated form. "... U-Um," she hums as if starting an idea, but in reality does not know what to say and ends up remaining quiet.
"H-Hey! M-Moonlight!" he tries to cover up the dead air. "W-What are you doing out this early? -- Oh!" he exclaims before Moonlight has the opportunity to say anything. "Right! Taking Furi back to the orphanage! Shucks, I just missed it, didn't I?"
Moonlight smiles awkwardly and nods. "J-Just barely, ehe..."
"I-I'm sorry, Moonlight! I was wanting to walk her home with you, but--but..."
Moonlight waves her hoof several times to try and appease to him. "Nono, it's okay! Really. She was asleep the entire walk over, it wasn't much to miss."
"Oh, well... well, if you say so! Ehehe," he wipes his forehead from some forming beads of sweat. "D-Did you maybe want to get some breakfast with me?"
Moonlight puckers her lips, feeling that familiar pang of guilt surface. "... I..."
"H-Hey, maybe later! I know you're up much earlier than usual, so... in about four hours? Does ten sound good?"
The meek unicorn nods twice. "T-That sounds good."
"Eha! Great! Where you craving something in particular?"
To this, the mare thinks properly. "... Whipped raspberry crepes?"
"Deeelicious! Your wish is my command, dear!"
Moonlight nods bashfully in appreciation. "Th-Thank you, Magnifying."
"I-I'll be back soon!"
The stallion turns around, still holding that unnervingly wide smile as he trots away and looks back towards Moonlight. She waves at him until he turns the corner and disappears from sight.
Holding herself together, Moonlight waits until she has successfully entered her room and closed the door to let out a tense sigh. Something she is quickly noticing is how easily tense she becomes without Furi around... and much more so when Magnifying is.
The thought irks her, that she is... possibly... bothered by his presence? "No!" she whispers to herself scoldingly, accidentally letting it slip from between her lips. That is not it, maybe something else is bothering her. She is not positive what he was trying to do at her door just now, but she does not want to jump to conclusions and make him or herself look inferior. She is perhaps overthinking this. Maybe he knocked multiple times and did not get an answer. It is definitely something like that.
Far too tired to think on it for long, Moonlight unravels her scarf from around her neck and hangs it on the coat hanger next to the door. She trots upstairs to her bed, crawling under the sheets to hug Soap tightly. She lets her tired eyes close, attempting to achieve a little more sleep before having to deal with reality.
It is not long until night returns and the moon ogles over Salt Lick city.
Dahlia, glazing her unfocused and fatigued eyes through the notes for the five-hundredth time, finally decides to set them down once she agrees with her conscious that she needs some rest. She rises from her laying position next to Crimson, coming off the bed and acquiring the three empty bowls from the floor with her wing. She balances them towards the door, unlocking and opening it to set the bowls down in the hallway outside as instructed by the barkeep.
She closes and locks the door again, returning to the bed while rubbing her left eye. She climbs back up, pushing her saddlebags and papers off a ways, and lays down on her side.
The song of the rain has become unnoticeable background noise at this point, the midlands of Equestria are known to receive copious rain in the spring. Dahlia lets her barely-open eyes rest on the man. The shadows of the rain drops hitting the windows dance across his form and the rest of the room.
She does not know if she missed it while going through the homework Kleid made for her, but Crimson is looking much better now in comparison to this morning. Many of the wounds have turned to closed scars, his skin is retaking its coloration, and his breathing is silent and healthy. She feels that she should know better than to be startled by his preternatural abilities, but she can not help her admiration.
The longer she stares at him, she begins to recall what he looked like when they had first met. His deep red hair, his constant scowl, his punchy gaze... she is fighting plenty of battles in her psyche, the feeling of missing the way he looked is one of them.
The one battle she fails to fight is the push to crawl to him and hold his arm again. Even though parts of her tell her not to, or that it is a bad idea, she does so anyway. Her hooves and arms come around his bicep and tricep. At holding him again, she clenches her teeth and fights back the urge to cry.
Life was so simple before. Raid temples and tombs, sell the shit inside, get money. That is all it was, and she was happy with that. Now she does not understand anything anymore and everything is so unnecessarily complicated. The fault is all in due to the man she holds. She hates him with a burning passion. It is his fault why everything is the way it is now. If he had not been slumped over in front of that temple one beautiful nippy spring afternoon...
She hates this man... yet, a tear comes streaming down her cheek.
