“What Stable are ya from?” Karat’s unicorn colt asked me.

“The R&D Stable. They tested all the new technology Stable-Tec was making,” I answered.

“Oh. Did they make pretty clothes?” her unicorn filly asked.

“I don't think they did. Well, they did make this hat and jacket.” I answered.

“Can I have the hat?” the colt asked.

“Can I have the jacket?” the filly asked as well.

"Uhh, sorry, but they’re all I own, so I can't just give them away," I said, doing my best not to upset the overly loud foals. They both frowned and looked ready to wine loudly with a deep inhale but were interrupted by their mother.

"Here we are." She had stopped in front of the New Appleloosa general store. "You said you can read and do math, right?" I nodded. She smiled. "Wonderful! My husband and I just need some pony to manage the store for a few hours. He just won't leave his register as long as there is business to be done." She held onto her smile as she spoke, but it just felt more fake as she went on.

"Retail work. Anypony can do that," I said as I trotted inside.

The store felt more like an antique shop rather than a general store considering the many old nick nacks along the wall, a glass case next to the register housing severe guns, and a toaster.

Passing through one of the aisles, the shelves were full of small boxes that held nails, screws, bolts, and other construction materials of different sizes, along with some acano tech parts, and small robot pieces. Looking over at another aisle, it had rolls of old tape, wonder glue, springs, and different lengths of steel tubes. Further in the back, behind the register, was a Sunset Sarsaparilla display fridge. It’s home to both soda bottles and beer bottles. There was even a spot that had food on it, though it was just several old cans and a whole lot of corn.

"You know, this is the most general of a general store I have ever been in," I expressed.

"That's the point," a gruff sounding stallion spoke up from behind the counter. He was a dark gray earth pony with light gray spots. His mane a dull rust color with several strands of either gray or white. "By selling everything a pony might need, the ponies will come here first before browsing the merchant stalls outside." He then looked passed me and over at Karat. "Hony, who's the stallion?"

Karat chuckled. "It's that stable pony. You know, the one who fell into that ghoul clinic around a month ago. He can do that math stuff, so I thought that he could look after things here while we can go out to the dance."

The stallion sighed. "Karat, Darling, my love, you know I can't just let a pony I only just met in charge of my store."

Nodding, I turned to Karat. "Though I do need some sort of job, he is right. Most places at least have the pony supervised first."

"See, he gets it. By the way, what's your name?" the stallion asked me.

"Slowtrot," I answered.

"Good to meet you, Mister Slowtrot. I'm Heavy Hoof, the owner of this here store." He then turned to his wife. "And what about the children, you know they don't like to go to the dance."

Karat fluttered her eyes at her husband. "They can stay here. Mister Slowtrot should be more than capable to look after them."

Heavy Hoof paused for a long moment, seemingly having a hard time processing what his wife just said, then sighed. "No offense to Mister Slowtrot, but I don't think that would..."

He was interrupted by Karat stomping on the ground. "But I want to go to the dance!" she whined.

"But honey." Heavy tried to interject, but again was interrupted by another stomp.

"We never go out anymore! You just stay behind that counter all day. Somepony very important is showing up tonight!" she again whined.

"But there's so much work to-" Heavy again was interrupted.

"You promised we'd go out together! I can't just show up by myself! What would the neighbors think?!" This time she emphasized her words with several stomps.

I watched as the seemingly tall and proud looking stallion seemed to shrink in size. "But-"

"No butts! I finally have free time from my own work so we're going out, and that’s final!" Katat insisted loudly.

Heavy Hoof looked over at me. His eyes pleading for help, of which I could not give.

*Jingle*

As though sent by Celestia herself, Star Charter stepped in with her daughter Bridget and another filly that I do not know yet. "Sup Karat. Hope I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Karat stuck her nose up and looked away, but Heavy smiled and spoke up. "Actually, we were just discussing about finding a sitter for our foals. My darling finally has some time off and wants to go to the weekly dance, but you know how hard it is to find a sitter at the last moment."

Star's eyes darted around the room, falling onto Karats two foals. She took a step back, seemingly ready to bolt out the door. "Oh, yeah… I heard that the Lightbringer Group might be free."

"But Mom, they said they were doing a camping trip with the older foals," Bridget spoke up.

Star sighed.

I saw Karat smile and trot over to Star. "Oh thank you for agreeing to take after my little angels. You're a lifesaver."

Star opened her mouth, clearly ready to argue, but quickly looked down at her daughter. After that, she likely decided to take a less aggressive posture. She returned Krat’s smile. "Well, since it’s last minute, it's going to cost extra. I am already looking after another foal as you can see." This stole the smile from Karat's face.

I looked at the new filly. She a dark gray earth pony with light gray spots and a vibrant rust-red mane. I then looked over at Karats foals. The filly was a tan unicorn with a dirty bond mane. The colt was a dusty brown unicorn who also had a dirty blond mane. Karat herself was a creamy light gray earth pony mare with a golden blond mane. She wore glasses and had no spots. My eyes then drifted from Heavy Hoof, down to the other filly, and then over to Star who looked back at me, giving me an ever so slight shake of her head.

Messaged received.

Once more I entered my agreeable working pony mode. I put on a genuinely fake smile. "Well if it's just for a few hours, I can hoofle that. I did work at Barnyard Bargains for a year before they started replacing some of the staff with robots."

I got a bit of a confused look from the others, then Katat again smiled. "See Honey, he's got work experience, so everything is fine. Now let's go."

Heavy Hoof gave a defeated sigh as Star and I trotted up to the register. He then waved me to come around to the other side. "I'll show you how to work this as I ring up Star." I trotted around and got a look at what was even a vintage register back during the war. Although several of the keys had been replaced with crude imitation, most of the original keys were worn down to barely readable nubs. "Alright, Miss Star, what can I get you?"

"Some cooking oil if you still have some. Since there are going to be even more mouths to feed, I'll take two cans of sham and two cans of beans… at a discount," Star Charter requested.

There was a momentary pause before Heavy seemed to shrink a bit more, then he nodded. Pulling out a notebook, Heavy Hoof showed me that he had every product and its price in it. Some pieces were crossed out and another number added. "Right. I have the baseline of everything I sell in this. Never sell lower, and the higher you can charge the pony, the better." He briefly looked up at Star with a huff, "Special cases notwithstanding. Now, do you know how to use a register?"

"One like this, ya. It's basically just a big calculator with bits inside," I answered.

Heavy scratched his chin for a moment, and then backed up. "Show me then." Heavy demanded.

Stepping up to the register, I flipped through the notebook. It took me a minute to navigate it. Once I found it, I then type in the cost. When I was done, Heavy added Stars discount. After that, caps were exchanged. He nodded in approval then pointed under the counter where I saw a double-barrel shotgun. "In case of a robbery, use the first shell to wound, and the second to kill."

"Is that a real worry?" I asked.

"It's rare," Star spoke up. "The deputies keep a lid on most of the crime, but now and then some idiot thinks they can rob a store then jump on the train."

"Alright. We’re going to get ready. Just familiarize yourself with the store," Heavy told me before turning to trot to the back of the store. Karat followed him out.

"Strange,” she mused. “I thought the mayor needed Karat available in case he needed any errands run," Star commented as she put the canned food into her saddlebag. "I hope she didn't just dump all her work on Harp." She then shrugged. "Oh well. She's a grown mare. She seems to know how to take care of herself.

Star then whistled loudly, getting all the foal's attention “Bridget, Light Step, let’s go. That includes you two rugrats as well."

A groan came from the brother and sister. They trotted over to Star while grumbling something to themselves.

"Are you sure you can hoofle four foals on such short notice?" I asked in concern.

Star chuckled. "It's going to be six actually, but I'll be fine. I volunteer at the school a few days a week, so this is quite manageable for me."

Bridget fluttered onto her mother's back. "We're building a fort at the clinic and Jali is showing us how to make medical tea."

"Yep, whoever thought having a tea party could be healthy!" Star claimed in what was clearly her being playful.

Karats foals now looked a bit more interested in what they were talking about.

"Maybe we can have a filly's vs colts game a bit later,” Star proposed. “The losers ha’s cooties."

The two foal’s ears perked up, then they both narrowed their eyes at each other. Soon they were rushing out of the shop, followed by Bridget and Light Step. This got a chuckle from Star as she bragged, "Works every time. Those two can't help but compete with each other. I think it might be because Karat doesn't give them enough attention.”

Star then sighed, “Anywho, I should head out to make sure none of them get in trouble."

With that, Star trotted out. I was left alone in the store.

Looking through the notebook, I reviewed the products that were here. The antique vibe of this place was still there, but now it made me feel more relaxed. Maybe it was because some of the stuff here was nearly as old as I was, which still didn't feel right to me.

On the counter was a radio. It clearly saw better days. Curious, I turned it on just to test it. What played was Sweetie Bell singing one of her original songs. It was just as somber of a song as the first time I heard it.

When the song came to a close, a stallion with a deep voice spoke up. "This is DJ Pon3y, and ain't Sweetie Bell the best? I never get tired of hearing her sing.”

It was strange hearing that name, as I remember a DJ Pon3y from my time, who was a famous party music mixer with more albums than I can remember. Though from what I remember, that pony was a mare, and she was famous for never talking. I could only guess the name had been passed down, or it was simply just coincidence.

I continued to listen. “But, you know what they say about too much of a good thing, so let’s break up the good vibes with some good news! The sleepers have awakened! Yes, that's right! The two mysterious stable ponies that fell out of nowhere in New Appleloosa have finally woken up. The who, what, how, and where they came from is still unknown, but I advise giving them the time and space to sort all that out."

I scratched my chin, a bit confused about how this pon3y knew about Harp and I had woken up so quickly.

The DJ continued. "In other news, the terrorist Spritz Cookie has finally been captured by the NCR. She and her Renegade Steel Ragers had been harassing NCR caravan for the last ten years now, where she had avoided not just the NCR, but both Applejack Rangers and other Steel Ranger chapters. With her capture, the many caravans under NCR protection can now breathe a sigh of relief and focus on other problems, such as raiders, feral ghouls, and other vicious monsters that have a taste for pony meat."

It seemed that there were quite a few bad things going on outside New Appleloosa, though it was nice not to hear about the war anymore.

The radio broadcast continued. "Now for your public service announcement, don't do chems! No joke, my fillies and colts, no joke at all. By now you should know the usual dangers; addiction, withdrawal, and the ever dark presence of an overdose.” Nothing new to me.

“But, lately, there's been a new danger along with a new chem going around. This danger is caused by the chems being cut. What do I mean by cut? I mean that some scummy chem pusher is adding different and more dangerous stuff to their chems to make it cheaper and more addictive. They don’t care what this cut will do to the ponies using it.” Alright, this was new to me.

“The NCR, with the aid of the Angels, are trying to stop the distribution of the tampered chems. They are offering a safe place for addicted ponies to get high and seek treatment if they choose to.” The DJ informed everypony.

There was a pause, and then a long sigh from the DJ, “Now I really do not advocate the taking of chems, but if you must, then seek out the Angels. Those zebras take their profession seriously. They will not cut your chems with detergent or Chill.”

Music then softly started to play as the DJ clearly started to wrap up. “Now with the news out of the way, let's get back to some good vibes. How about a wasteland classic from the Wasteland Wailers…"

I turned the radio off as I heard hoofsteps from the back. Heavy and Karat trotted back in the store, both wearing far nicer and cleaner clothes. They are the kind of clothes you take to some kind of barn dance, though that might actually be where they were going.

"We should only be a few hours, but if it gets too late, there's a lock on the door that will only open from the inside, so you can just turn it and leave," Heavy informed me. I nodded, and the two trotted outside, leaving me fully on my own.

I turned the radio back on to listen to the music. I also flipped through the notebook again. It showed me how some items have gone up in price and where others have dipped. I am no economist, but I did understand a little of what I was looking at. Things. such as clean water and small-caliber ammunition, have gone down in price, but spark batters have significantly jumped up in costs. It still confused me why bottle caps was the currency, though colt me would have been stoked. I did, at one point, have a full box of soda caps.

*Ding*

The door opened and a pony dressed in patchwork rags covered in pockets trotted in. He mulled around for a few minutes, looking at random items and touching a few of them. I was unsure if this was a normal customer or not, as they looked like a homeless pony. When the Stallion came up to the register, He smelled like a homeless pony. "Hey, ya got ta nails?" He asked with a breath that smells like an ashtray.

"Nails?" I clarified.

"Ya nails." They repeated.

I pointed down the middle aisle. "There's different sizes of nails down there. Just bring them up and I'll ring you up."

They looked behind them and then back at me with a scowling face. "Not tos nails. Nail nails!" I raised an eyebrow. "Coffin Nails ya fuckwit!"

I sighed, "First off, aren’t any kind of nails good for a coffin, and two, I would appreciate it if you don't insult me."

The pony huffed at me. "Coffin nails are smokes, and you are a fuckwit id I got ta spell it out for ya, ya fuckwit."

I was unsure if I should tell the customer to leave or not, but figuring it was just bad luck, I checked under the counter, and found a packet of cigarettes. Placing one up, I flipped through the notebook, looking for the product. "Right. It's going to be fifteen caps." I looked up to see the customer already leaving, the cigarette gone, and twelve caps on the counter. Sighing, I gathered up the caps and made a mental note to not put out products from behind the counter until I’m given the caps. I also double-checked the cigarettes and saw that what I gave the stallion was not coffin nails, but a brand called death sticks.

The door dinged again. This time it was a group of ponies, most in patchwork clothes and a few of the ponies sporting old scars that looked painful. They split up into smaller groups and browsed the storse wheres. One old stallion was interested in some rusty farming tool. An older mare had stopped at a pile of scrap cloth and thread. Looking at the nails were three stallions, with one of them pulling out a scrap of paper for them to look at. Lastly was two youngish mares who looked at some random things as they chatted with each other.

First to come up was the three stallions who had taken a box of nails, a hammer, four yardstick rulers. "Let’s see. With the boxes being fifty nails at one cap a nail, the hammer being fifteen caps, and the yardsticks ten caps each, that will be one-hundred and ninety-five caps"

They looked at each other. One of them sighed. "The boss only gave us one-hundred and seventy-five caps. Is there any way we can get it lowered?"

"Sorry, I promised the owner to not go below a certain price." They didn't look happy about my answer but did look ready to argue about it. "Can't you just get the one yard stick?"

The one who spoke before shook his head. "Boss said we need four, otherwise we’re working on guesswork, and she hates working on guesswork."

Sounds reasonable. Back during the war, a shabby job got ponies killed, but then again it was annoying how hard it was to get what you needed for a job with how scarce materials became. If I remember correctly, most of the older ponies just took the junk we had and turned it into what we needed. Looking down at the yard sticks, a thought crossed my mind. "Say, couldn't you just make your own yard sticks?"

"Say what?" One of the three stallions raised an eyebrow.

I took one of them and laid it longwise on the counter. "Well just take one of these and use it to make copies from some wood you don't need."

One of the stallions scratched his chin and nodded. "Say, I think he has a point. We do have some scrap wood at the sight we have no use for. Alright, then we'll just get the one yardstick."

"That will be one-hundred and seventy-five caps." The stallions paid, and were on their way, leaving me with three yardsticks.

After several minutes, the next pony to come up was the old stallion. He was holding a hoe and a shovel. Both were rusty in parts. It looked like the edges had been sharpened. "I'll give ya thirty caps for these two, no more." His voice was gruff, and his breath smelled thick with tobacco.

Looking in the notebook, I found two of each item, one marked clean, and one marked as scavenged. Looking over where he had gotten them, I could see a shovel that was in far better condition since it has no rust. The clean items were marked fifty caps, where the scavenged were thirty caps… "Sorry, but you're asking for a fifty percent discount. I can’t do that. I can give you one for thirty caps."

The old stallion huffed. "Listen here youngin, I sure as Lunas plot I can get this even cheaper from those merchants outside, so I'm being fair offering you this!"

I gave him my retail smile. It’s fake as plastic, just like the robots that replace me in some of my jobs. "Oh, that's unfortunate to hear. If you could bring in one of those items, I'll see if my manager can match the cost."

He was taken aback for a moment, looking a bit confused. "Why in Celestia's grateful sky would I do that? I would already have what I want. You know what, how about thirty-five caps then?

"That's still too low in price, sir. If you can't afford both, how about getting one for now," I said as politely as possible.

This time the old pony groaned. "Look here sonny, these here tools were clearly used as weapons. They are sharpened and rusted from blood. They’re not worth more than twenty caps each! Even the wood is all worn out."

This was starting to get annoying. He wanted it for "forty caps" for the two when it's listed as sixty.

Looking back up at the stallion, his nose was scrunched up. "Now that's highway robbery. I'll give you thirty-five caps for each, and no higher!"

I paused for a moment to process what just happened… "Ya, it's a deal!" I said, and he hoofed over seventy caps, ten caps over the selling price. To say I was a bit confused would be an understatement, but at least it covered the loss from the cigarette.

The next customer was the older mare. She was holding the cloth scraps and thread she had been looking at.

"How can I help you?" I ask in my well-practiced retail voice.

"Oh how polite Yes, I'd like to buy all this." She had a slight smile and a quiet voice. "I need to make a quilt for my son, or he's going to be cold tonight."

Nodding, I may have not been interested in why she was shopping, but knew not to look or sound disinterested, or I’d risk an unhappy pony.

“Let’s see. The thread is five caps a spool, and the cloth scraps is a cap for a square.” The older mare pulled out her pouch and, one at a time, placed a cap on the counter. It counted to thirty-two caps. Most of them were dirty with a lot of paint missing. I then went through the items she was buying and found that she had two spools of thread and forty-three cloth scrap squares. “Right. All together you’re twenty-one caps short. You want to remove anything?”

She looked down for a moment, “I see.” Her eyes welled up a little, and she shuffled. “Alright. That’s fine.”

I felt a pinch of guilt in my chest, causing me to sigh. “You know what, I’m eight caps over right now. How about I add that to your total? Then you’re only thirteen caps short.”

The old mare wiped a tear-off with her fenlock. “Oh thank you.” I removed the thirteen cloth scraps and made the exchange. Although she still seemed sad, at least I was able to help a little. I was unsure if I was being played or not. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. I just hope I don’t lose the job because of it… again.

Time passed, The two remaining mares still chatted as they looked around the shop. The door dinged again, and a green cowpony mare trotted in. She looked about as rough as the sheriff but, instead of scars, she had two mechanical back legs. From under her hat were strands of her red tangled mane, with two red eyes looking right at me. Reaching the counter, she placed a bag of caps on the counter. “I need to confirm if my order is ready.” I stared back at her, a bit confused, and she sighed. “I ordered for two barrels of water and two weeks provisions of rations.”

Feeling a bit confused, I looked under the counter. I saw several pieces of paper and a folder. Pulling out the folder, inside was several clean pieces of paper covered in scribbles which had stamps on it. They seem like trade deal forms, exchanges, and some other legal mumbo I had a hard time wrapping my head around. Each one had several names attached to it. One name in scribbles and the rest in more clear writing. I could only guess this was what I was looking for. “Name?”

“Percussion Cap,” the mare told me.

Flipping through the documents, I found her name. It had several stamps saying “Approved” but the writing was just unreadable. There was a second piece of paper attached to the first. Luckily it was typed in. It listed several items, including the two barrels of water. On this document was stamped “paid” and next to it was a list with a date and the word “Delivered”. Checking my pipbuck, the date was listed for tomorrow. “Looks like your order will be ready tomorrow. Anything else?”

I saw her shake one of her cyber legs before responding. “Any word on any spark batteries coming into your stock?”

Looking through the notebook, I found several listings of different spark batteries. Next to them was a note paper clipped in saying that none were in stock. Any new stock was to go to the mayor. “Sorry. Looks like any spark batteries we do get goes to the mayor.”

“So that’s fucking why there's no fucking spark batteries in town!” Percussion Cap huffed. “Thanks for the info. Everypony else just gave me the runaround.” She then turned around and stomped out of the store, muttering along the way.

With a ding, I was left with the two mares who were still just looking around. Soon after they left, not buying anything.

Turning up the radio, I sat in the now still shop with only my pipbuck to mess with, but I was not feeling like reading the notes still in it.

What were a few minutes became an hour with little interruption. During that time, it was mainly some pony buying a snack or cooled beer. Another hour passed and, through the window outside, I could see the sky turning red and lights being turned on.

The door dinged. I looked to see the dusty pegasus mare from Spot Weld’s workshop trotted in along with two strong looking stallions carrying heavy boxes. The stallions looked a lot like the bikers the newspapers warned ponies to stay away from. Their fur was painted and had black vests decorated with spikes over a tanis olive military jacket. Actually, they looked a lot like a certain biker gang that got featured in the news. Something about gang wars or chem dealers. It was something Desperados, though back home, the Tartarus Angles was the main biker gang in the area.

The mare looked at me, raised an eyebrow, then trotted over with a clipboard. "Guess Heavy Hoof is out. No matter. Can you sign this for me as proof of delivery?"

She passed me the clipboard. "Alright, but what's in the boxes?" I asked as I took a pen into my mouth and signed the paper.

"Just a bunch of junk. Blue Skies has a hard time selling since ponies come here first to find shit like this, so it's a win-win for both our businesses." She took the clipboard and smiled. "So you can actually write and here I was thinking ya’ll ground pounders just pretend to by just drawing loops."

The pegasus turned around and nodded at the two biker ponies. They dropped the boxes haphazardly then turned to leave.

On their vest was a flaming skull wearing a cowpony hat along with the words ‘Route 50 Desperados’ printed under it. That got me to pause for a moment about how a biker gang from over two-hundred years ago could still be around. They quickly left, and I eventually gave up on pondering about them. I started to wonder what else was still around. Maybe, just maybe, Pinky Pie was actually still watching us, as her posters promised.

One more ding issued. The drunk form of Karat stumbled in. Her dress was slightly dirty. Her make up was a bit smudged but the big tell was the bottle she held in her mouth. I watched as she made her way to the counter. leaning on the counter, she fluttered her eyes a bit too much as she put the bottle down. "Hey handsome." Her breath smelled of booze.

"Hello, Miss Gold. Is your husband picking up your kids?" I asked, trying to deflect her cargo train signal level of flirting.

She huffed. "That useless stallion. Ya, he's picking my kids up. He’ll probably sneak off to see his favorite whore later. Let's talk about something better… us." She fluttered her eyes again.

That was more than I wanted to know.

"I'm very grateful for you getting me this job, and I'd be glad to talk about further employment, tomorrow." I deflected.

Karat chuckled. "How about tonight, you can work me hard and long?"

I kept my neutral retail smile up, unsure how to deal with this drunk mare. "I'm sure that would be a bad idea ma’am, and I'm sure you've had a long day."

She waved me off dismissively. "Mister Slowtrot, do I… *urp* I have to remind you who I am? I work for the mayor, and if I so chose to… I can make it so that you can't get a job here. now what do you say?"

"Isn't that illegal?" The words practically jumped out of my mouth before I knew not to say them. "I mean… uhh… you could get in trouble, and I wouldn't want to see you get in trouble. Also, think of our age. I'm practically-"

A hoof slammed on the counter as Karat stared daggers at me. "Are you calling me old!" she growled.

"No, no. The opposite. We were just from different eras!" I defended myself.

"I'm not that old!" she yelled and swung her hoof at me.

I instinctively backed away. She missed, hitting the old register with a loud thud and a crack. I watched as Karats face went from anger, to shock, and then fear. She let out a silent inhale of a scream as she retreated back, holding her hoof, it having a nasty looking crack in it.

"Shit! Stay there, Miss Karat!" I quickly trotted around the counter to her. Next, I put my pipbuck over her. "Ironbuck, begin medical scan."

My pipbuck's screen switched to showing a mare with her right foreleg outlined in dots.

"Right. This will tell me how bad your hoof is hurt. We can get the doctor to help patch it up for you." I informed her.

Looking at the screen, it said that she had a hairline fracture and something called balefire crotch.

"Right. Just a hairline fracture. Nothing more, and nothing else," I told her while trying to keep a straight face.

With her other hoof, she grabbed my pipbuck and forced it into her view. It only lasted for a second, but when she looked back up at me, tears in her eyes, I knew that she knew that I knew…

The door dinged. Heavy Hoof trotted in with his kids. I took my opportunity. "Thank Celestia you're here!" I said as I trotted over to him.

Heavy Hoof looked over with concern on his face. "What happened?"

"Your wife tripped and damaged her hoof. I think it looks like a hairline fracture, but I'm no doctor, so Doctor Quacksalver should look at it." I turned off my pipbuck screen as I looked over at Karat. I gave her a nod before looking back at Heavy Hoof. "I'll go get him. You should go get her to bed."

The stallion furrowed his brow at me for a moment, then looked at his wife who was nursing her hoof. "Go get the doctor. Last I saw him, he was heading back to his clinic. I'll tend to my wife."

I quickly exited the shop. When the door closed, I took a deep breath. "Three jobs lost in a day. That's a new record."

Kicking the dirt in frustration, I then made my way to the doctor’s clinic, unsure what to do next.

As I ran to the clinic, I saw the sun setting, but also saw that the moon had already passed the horizon. It’s almost like Luna was impatiently doing her job…

Wait. What happened to the Princesses?