Author's Note

Sorry for all the delays guys!
My pre-readers dipped out so I have to do it myself and do some quick edits. I will be editing it again within the next few days.

Hope you all enjoy it!

4: The name of the game

The waning glimmers of sunlight peer through the rippling tapestry of twin sisters rising sun and moon; the day enters night. Tents have been erected around the old ruins in an attempt to bolster security. This was in response to a recent security breach. One of the few hidden magic’s that is no longer entombed is a very interesting enchantment. The user may cast the spell on a blank book and everything within a set range is recorded in the text. Zephyrus, king of the Roil Flush. “Cult leader” some call him. This sky-blue earth pony had a teal rats’ nest for a mane and tale with a spiraling void as a cutiemark. Zephyrus was absolutely furious when one of his underlings found the body of a pawn hidden in some shrubbery. In a normal platoon there are eight Pawns, two Rooks, two Bishops, two Knights, and one Queen. This was no normal platoon though, there were no less then twelve pawns on guard duty at all times which means something very sinister was at work here. Pawns tend to do the menial tasks and are what all new recruits start out as. Slowly they can work their way up to a tower, bishop, or knight. Rooks are the “lookouts” of the group. They keep an eye out on everything as well as collecting new information about hidden treasure and powerful magic’s. A bishop is one who takes all the information that is sent and filters it by relevance but that is not all. Bishops have a secondary task, recruiting. It is the job of a bishop to seek out rumors of the able-bodied and get them initiated. Anyone who refuses already knows too much and that is what the knights are for. Knights are known for their combat prowess and ability to follow orders to a tee. Queens are something else entirely. They are knights that have been affected by the dark magic’s that come will killing. The magic warps the personality and wipes the cutiemark from the pony. Not only are these queens vicious, some are outright insane. They are notorious for attaching themselves to their strongest emotion and corrupting it into something as grotesque as themselves.

Stoppage stood statuesque next to one of the most illustrious mares in Roil Flush. Being a zebra with red stripes she stuck out pretty well. Her mane off to one in a tousled shag style, tail mimicking. She was known as Alcipper of the setting sun. Alcipper made rank Queen within a few years of service. Stoppage was not so ambitious, He liked his rank as knight. None of the members are quite sure how long he has been in service. Any member that would be even close to him, in service time, has long sense perished. Zephyrus sat upon a refurbished throne, back center of the great hall. His efforts to restore the old castle proved profitable so far. It has even retained some of its old and dark magic. Despite the good fortunes in this investment, Zephyrus found himself agitated at his subordinates.

“So let me get this straight, you let a single hermit kill a pawn and infiltrate this complex!?” Zephyrus said in frustration, making exaggerated hoof motions.

“Iz not my fault. You were knowing that I was scouting. Stoppage was in the wrong here.” Alcipper said, accusatorily pointing a hoof at Stoppage. “If he would be doing job properly, we would not be having problem.” The passion in her voice rising with each comment she made. Stoppage seemed indifferent about the whole situation. The ironclad pony stood in silence. His shallow breath hitting the faceplate of his etched helmet.

“Are you not going to defend yourself against such accusations Stoppage?” Zephyrus leaned forward in anticipation. The soft clamor of Stoppage’s armor echoed throughout the empty hall as he stepped forward.

“Ah hell, y’know I aint t’blame. You can read it in that there book just like Al’ did” She did not take too kindly to his nickname. “That stripped came’n ear while I was fight’en that slave mare.” Once more Stoppage another term that irritated Alcipper. It would seem his attempts to antagonize her were working quite well. Alcipper was fuming at this point Tis what that bitch gets for lyin’

Zephyrus seemed to accept Stoppage’s excuse to some degree “Quite, which still means that we have a loose end though” with a flip of his hoof a thick codex appears in front of his muzzle, lingering in the air off its own aura. Zephyrus seems to flip through it casually before stopping on the entry “More disturbing is the familiar that she had. For whatever reason the book was not able to record it.” He ponders on this for some time, almost forgetting about Alcipper and stoppage. The two stood there in awkward silence. Looking up he utters a single statement “Take care of her”

“Yes my king!” The two say in unison

Flickering campfires illuminate the thick curtain of cumuli, the night baring on undisturbed. Guards now patrolling the grounds in pairs. Alcipper lay on a cot covered in blankets of the finest silk and pillows stuffed with exotic cotton. Alcipper was a Prima donna even before she joined up with the Roil Flush. Her tent reflected this with blue carpets and gold trim on everything, down to the last cup. Stoppage stood at entrance flap of her tent. He always hated Alcipper’s personal quarters.

“Zo pagey, vat are we going to be doings about this zebra?” She said, getting comfortable

“I says we just smash her and git er done.” He said bluntly

“I have better idea. Lets sends the new knight after her, yes?”

“You say’in I can’t get it done?” He said, sounding offended.

She snickers, knowing she is already getting to him “I noticed how poorly you perform in the city pagey. Then again you preforms poorly in most cases” She said with a grin “You’re not getting any youngers you know. Stamina might be issue. All you doing anymore is fighting the slave mares, but that’s ok. They aren’t knowing what a real fighter iz. Like their first time, ya?” Though she could not see him, Alcipper knew we was on the verge of rupturing into a rage. She just gave him a loving smile.

“Fine! Have it your way, no skin off my back. She messes up, it’s ur head” He said, stomping out.

Agent 47 sat against the wall, a tarnished coin in his hand. He could not sleep. 47 was riddled with emotions that he could not understand. Not the same emotions he had with the rabbit and not the same as the mouse. Those were different, love for an animal. Something to protect that would love you for it, never truly understanding the plight of life. As the tempest of thoughts begins to break, so does first light. That familiar stream of light illuminating his glum face. One of the differences in this world is the sunlight. Here the sun does not have that harsh brightness. It is always a soft light, never burning its image into his retina. It is pleasing to him. The birds started their morning chatter right on time. Zecora will be up soon. As if on cue he heard the slight pressing of hoofs on the hut’s floor. It is not long before Zecora lightly taps on his door. In only a moment 47 was up and at the door, coin in pocket. Upon opening it he was surprised to see that Zecora had her mane back in order.

“Did you sleep well?” She enquired, rather bright eyed.

“Yes I did Zecora” Another lie added to the list “How about yourself?”

“I slept well Anon. Come to the table and talk, breakfast is almost ready” She gives a coy little smile before heading there herself. Why is she being so forward and nice? Is this another pony thing? I suppose I will find out today. 47 soon joins her in his usual spot, assuming his normal sitting style. Zecora dished the food as normal, setting it on the table in association were they sit. Though Zecora’s spot has moved closer to 47’s. The eat quietly for some time before Zecora starts up some small talk.

“So how is it, the oatmeal. I would like to know how you feel”

“It is sufficient” His blunted response concerned her

“I could make something else if you so desire. Dear anon, you would only need to inquire”

“It’s fine Zecora. I like it”

“I could pick up some-” He cut in abruptly

“I would have no quarrel with change. Just be sure it is in your price range” He said, mimicking her accent. Zecora was caught off guard by this. He takes notice of her internal confliction and begins one of his own. A smile threatens his usual stone-faced expression. It only takes a “bu…wha…hu?” from Zecora before 47’s face is consumed by a smug grin. They both let out a small laugh.

“You look good with a smile Anon, you should wear it more often.” She says, retaining her own smile.

“Some things are better left hidden till the time is right Zecora.”

“Indeed. So are you excited to see rarity? For your suit, she is the element of charity”

“Yes and no. I don’t like attention very much. Walking into town will do just that. I have been trying to think of a way to avoid a scene but nothing comes to mind.” He swirls the last of the oatmeal, watching it slosh around at the bottom.

“I think I may have a solution, thought we need weight distribution.”

He was not sure how he was talked into it but it sure beats wading through a flock of franticly fascinated ponys fighting to ask frivolous questions. Zecora was pulling 47 through the streets of ponyville via cart and package. She had fashioned a large crate that would hide him, retaining his existence. There were small slits in the crate that allowed him to peer out at the populous. It was rather interesting to see all the brightly colored ponys going about their daily business. Most not even sparing Zecora a second glance. There was one lime green ‘Unicorn’ that seemed too excited to see Zecora. She also asked too many questions but thankfully Zecora was able to get her distracted long enough to make an escape. It was not too long before they were confronted by a large building that could only be described as a French carousel. 47 could not help but sigh. Anything with that bad of taste should not be touching my suit.. Zecora unhitched herself from the wagon, cantering to the boxed 47.

“Be strong, this will not take long.” She whispered. Trotting over to the door she rang the bell. It was not long before this ‘Rarity’ answered. She was a pure white unicorn with a royal purple mane. They seemed to talk for a bit casually. Try as he might, 47 could not hear a single word they said. He found this slightly irritating. There was an exasperated gasp and at that moment all 47 could do was put his forehead into his palm. Did you really need to tell her out in the open Zecora? Really!? Zecora soon trotted back and re-hitched herself to the cart then proceeded to wheel him to the back of the building. She backed the cart up to a larger backdoor. At least I don’t need to worry about windows. They all seem to be located on the top floor of this funhouse. The door opened and rarity’s head soon pocked out. She looked left, then right, before opening the door all the way. 47 ended up burring his face in both his hands. I should have just walked, It would have been less conspicuous. He soon felt the strangest sensation in his entire life. Weightlessness. Rarity seemed to be using her magic to gently lift the crate out of the cart and in through the backdoor. Softly, she set it down and led Zecora into the other room. This backroom was as plane as it was dim. Clearly a storage room.

“Now Zecora, I know I owe you a favor but must you really come out of nowhere and request my whole shop be closed down for the day?”Zecora gave Rarity a petite nod. Rarity lets a long, drawn-out, sigh. “Honestly Zecora, you could have called first”

“With what phone Rarity?”

“Well you have a point. Well couldn’t you have sent a letter?”

“Derpy won’t come into the everfree. Not even for the likes of me” She said with a confident smile. Knowing that she has won. Rarity thinks for a time before she admits defeat, turning the signs from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ “The blinds also. Trust me.” She is inquisitive at first but figures it is just best to comply for right now.

After shutting all the blinds she looks to Zecora “So, you care to let me in on this ‘big’ secret of yours?”

“It is better if I show you Rarity. He is quite the irregularity.” Zecora leads her back to the crate. Zecora unlatches the side of the box and lets it fall to the floor, revealing an empty box.

“Is…this a joke zecora?” Zecora franticly looks in and around the box.

“He was just in here-” Before she could finish the sentence a large figure steps out of the shadows.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Rarity. My name is Anonymous” He kneels down on his left knee and holds his right hand out “But you may call me Anon if you so wish.” She is taken aback by him cautiously putting her hoof in his hand.

“R-rarity” 47 grips Rarity's hoof and gives a firm handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you Rarity. I did not feel it would be appropriate for our first encounter to be one that involved me popping out of a box. I also took the liberty of closing your backdoor, I hope you don’t mind.” He said releasing her hoof

“Not at all darling, the pleasure is all mine. It is refreshing to meet an interesting personality such as your own” Darling, huh. Have you become a fashion pony mei ling?[i/] She maintains a wary distance from 47 “And how might I be of service?”

“Well as you can see I am having a wardrobe malfunction.” He said motioning to his person. Rarity instantly noticing all the frayed hems and small tears. “Zecora said that you would be the most able-bodied pony with the skills to fix this”

“Well Zecora is one of the wisest ponys around. It is a good thing you listen to her.” This statement seems to catch Zecora off guard, causing flush and look away. “Come into the show room and let’s get your measurements darling.” Both Zecora and 47 follow Rarity into one of the corners of the main room of the first floor. It is a chaotic collection of displays, sporting the latest in pony fashion. Rarity seems to snap into some professional mode, taking quick measurements and writing them down on a notepad with her magic. “Left Forearm out” 47 complies with no hesitation. “Ok, now Right.” This goes on for some time. Zecora just watching from the sidelines. She feels an unfamiliar emotion building in her chest. Jealousy. She loathes the sight of Rarity getting physically close to Anonymous. She does not even know him, why must her measurements be so invasive!? Zecora’s distress was almost boiling by the time Rarity was done measuring him. “Alright, I think I have all of your numbers. What can I create for you?”

“A black notch lapel two piece suit, French cuff shirt, Both in wool. Reinforced seams, invisible stitching with a silk lining. I also need the joints to move naturally. If that would not be too much.” He stated bluntly, he intentionally leaves out the black leather gloves. That one is not worth touching.

“I did notice how well your suit was designed. I will need to borrow it so that I can replicate the same technique.” She says giving his shoulder a little tug with her magic. Zecora was on the verge of a literal explosion at this point.

“Ah, yes. Well for my kind to be undressed is considered indecent.” Thank you Anon! Talk some sense into that mare! Rarity thinks for a moment before offering a suggestion.

“Well I would whip you something up real quick. Perhaps A plain white shirt like the one you are wearing and some pants?”

“That would be greatly appreciated Rarity. Thank you again for your generosity.” Rarity beams a bright smile.

“Alright, it won’t take too long, I will need some help making sure it looks correct so I will be having Zecora join me in my room upstairs. In the meantime you are free to relax down here Anonymous. Come along Zecora.” Rarity leads the now fuming Zecora up the winding staircase. Just as 47 was about to head back into the backroom a slight movement catches his eye. Something shifted toward the staircase. Turning around he seen nothing. Mannequins of ponys and skewed fabric lay everywhere. One of the Mannequins did not have a metal pedestal running through the center like the rest. Sneaky. Bets that is some more unicorn magic at work. Readying his body to counter attack, 47 walks over to the Mannequin as nonchalantly as he possibly could. It remained stationary. Thinking back to some training he remembered something that would prove helpful. 47 took a deep breath in through his nose, testing the air. It was stale, more so than the rest of the shop. It lacked that perfume smell. It was defiantly not from around here. Smelt like the Everfree. An assassin? Zecora was spotted then. Not good. [i/]

Zecora stood next to Rarity “Are you ok Zecora? You seemed, distracted” she said tending to the plain white fabric.

“I am fine” She said bluntly. She would need to try a lot harder than that if she wants to fool Rarity.

“Come now Zecora, you can tell me anything.” She said not looking up from her work. “I can keep a secret darling.” The word “Forever” seems to linger in the air for some reason. Truth is Rarity, I don’t know for sure…

She takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before confessing her feelings. “Well…the thing is…” Why is this so hard!? Come on Zecora, pull yourself together. “So I found Anonymous a few days ago…”

47 was literally face to face with the mannequin, waiting for it to move. He was close enough to the muzzle the he could feel the hot breath that mannequin exhaled. Ether Rarity is a very sick individual or this is the worst assassin I have ever seen. In a single motion he pulled the a jagged knife out from his sleeve and cuts at the mannequin muzzle. It quickly jerked its head back, planting its fore hooves. The dummy pivots, thrusting its backend at 47, and releases a powerful buck. Side stepping the hit, 47 grips the hilt of the knife tightly to pack his fist for harder hit. He throws a right hook at the ‘would be’ pony’s head.

Zecora shifts from hoof to hoof uncomfortably as Rarity continues to press her with questions. “So you have only known him a few days at most, but he lives with you?” Rarity continued to work on the garment. For her first human shirt it was turning out pretty good.

“Well yes, he was a mess. I was not going to force him to stay out after dark. So in my head ignited a spark. He could keep me company and I would give him sanctuary.”

“That night was over twenty four hours ago. So is he’s not living with you now?” She said rather matter-of-factly. Rarity held the t-shirt up with a pleased look. “This looks correct, right?”

Zecora could not help but flush at the prospect of Anon ‘living’ with her. “I-it is not like that Rarity.” Rarity seemed to move onto the lower half of Anon’s new ensemble. “It is not like he has anywhere to go. His race is pretty rare you know” Rarity was going through various fabrics, looking for the right type and color. Black or a darker blue should work.[i/] She thought.

“Oh I am fully aware of what heShe turned to face Zecora is dear. That nice, younger unicorn always goes on about the history of them. Though she always told me that they were a myth. Interesting to see she was wrong.” Rarity thought for some time before continuing on. “Since he is your secret you should tell her about him” She turned to face Zecore “It would mean the world to her Zecora. I would never tell her myself, even though it pains me.” Rarity walked over to Zecora, disregarding the fabric to the floor. Zecora visibly getting more and more uncomfortable with the situation “Lyra has had such a rough time sense she was kicked out of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, for her overenthusiastic studies.”

“Well…” Zecora could not bear looking Rarity in the eyes at this point. Down casting her gaze her emerald gaze Zecora continues “in the end it is not up to me. Even if it would fill another with glee” Rarity places a hoof on Zecora’s chin and guides her stare up to her sky blue gaze.

“It does not need to be right now darling. Lyra has waited a lifetime to see one. A few more days could not hurt.” Zecora seems to lighten up. Rarity Smiles softly “Besides, She should meet him when he actually has something nice to wear.” The two let out a little giggle. They soon realize that there conversation was not as private as they would have liked it to be. I little white unicorn stood at the door to rarity’s room with stars in her eyes, her eye color was tone brighter than Zecora’s. Her mane and tail were two tone fuchsia with some curl at the ends.

“There is a mythical creature here!?” She managed squeak out in excitement. Rarity give the now irritated Zecora a shy smile as she tried to cope with the turn of events.

“Umm, well sweetie by hear we mean…uh” Rarity clearly struggling to think of some bluff she could use. Zecora trots over to the little filly

“Why yes he is here. You can even see him, but you must make a promise” Sweetie belle gave an overenthusiastic nod

“Anything in the world miss Zecora! Anything at all! I might even get my cuti-” Zecora cut her off with a vary stern look and knelt down to her level

“You mustn’t tell a soul little belle. Not Scootallo, not applebloom, not even your parents. You know what happens to little fillies who don’t keep secrets right?” Sweetie gave a less enthusiastic shake of her head. “They disappear into the night, out of sight. Knowing nothing in life but fright. Try as they might, they are gone without a fight.” Sweetie had a horrified look on her face at this point. Zecora smiled and ruffled her mane. “Go on little one, He will not be here for long. Maybe you could color with him, perhaps sing him a song?” Sweetie belle seemed to light up at the prospect of a new friend to play with.

“I’ll go get my coloring books!” She beamed. As sweetie left Zecora rose to her hooves and faced rarity. To her surprise Rarity seems to be over flowing with joy. Zecora could not help but give an inquisitive raise of her eyebrow

“You are so good with sweetie Zecora. You handled that much better than I could even dream of doing. How are you so good with little fillies?” Zecora gives a little smile

“Maybe I will tell you one day Rarity. For now we should keep working”

The scrap between the two assassins had led the backroom, the mannequin struggling to free itself from 47’s headlock unsuccessfully. 47 had tried to choke it out but the neck was too thick. One thing I know that will work is force.[i/] He tightened up his free fist with the intent to strike as hard as he could. One. Two. Three. Four. 47 landed powerful blows right behind the creature’s ear. He suspected there would be a nerve cluster there. Five. Six. Seven. And he was right. Each hit took a visable toll on the fictitious figure. On the twelfth hit the mannequin collapsed. 47 let it fall to the floor in a heap. He flips the mannequin belly up and mounts the thing, staring into its fake eyes. “w-what are you…?” it choked out in a surprisingly feminine voice.

“You will never know” 47 stated bluntly. Putting one hand on the back of her head and the other on the jaw, He gave a mighty twist. This caused a flection motion within the cervical spine. The vertebra and soft tissues giving way to the flow of force applied with a series of cracks. Needless to say, she died almost instantly. Working off of instinct he flipped the crate so that the opening was face up. The 47 proceeded to stash the body in his crate. Once he closed the lid 47 gave himself a moment to breath. There were a series of small clops rushing down the stairs. Before he had time to act the sound was upon him. A two foot pony with saddlebags that stood at the door with an overexcited smile. When she spoke it almost hurt 47. The only audible noises that resonated from her voice box were squeaks and exasperated gasps. “Calm down little one. I mean no harm. What is your name?” 47 Kneels down and holds out a hand “My Name is Anonymous. You may call me Anon if you wish.” Sweetie Belle was bouncing at this point, her horn letting out faint green sparks. 47 could not though of her as a bomb with a fuse. “It is ok little pony. Calm down.” He waited a few minutes for her to calm down. “Are you able to speak yet?” Sweetie Belle took a few slow breaths.

“Yeah! I just never thought I would meet a living legend before!” She exclaims. 47 can help but feel some form of pride when Sweetie called him a legend.

“My arm is going to get tired if you don’t shake my hand, little one.” Sweetie looked at his outstretched arm with a tilted head.

“What’s a hand and why is it shaking?” He forces a little smile

“Just take your han-hoof and lift it close to mine” She does this with a bit of hesitation. 47 lightly grabs her soft hoof. “Now move it up and down slowly” She does this. “Very good.” 47 lets go and sits in place. “So what’s your name?”

“My name is Sweetie Belle!” she announces proudly. “I am Rarity’s little sister.”

Good thing I read magazines, those articles on kids are proving useful right now. “Oh, Rarity’s sister. I should have guessed. You are very pretty like she is.” He says with a caring smile. “I wish I had a sister like her.”

“Yeah! She is the bestist sister in the whole world!” Sweetie takes her saddlebag off and starts digging through it. “Just look at all these drawings of us together I have!” The floor is soon devoured by a splash of coloring utensils and poorly done drawings.

“Hey, some of these are really good Sweetie Belle. Are you an Artist?” Another lie. Well…A nice lie[i/] He picked up a few of them in an appraising manner to solidify his compliment.

“No. But I want to be like my big sister and make dresses! That is my dream.” She lets out a discontented sigh. “But I am no good with fabric.” 47 placed his hand on top of her head. A Sweetie Belle let out a surprised gasp.

“You have time to practice with your arts Sweetie bell. Just enjoy this opportunity to discover your passions. You will have plenty of time afterwards to prefect what you love to do little one.” With that said he ruffled her mane a little bit and withdrew his hand back to his lap. Sweetie bell smiled wildly

“Thanks a lot Mr. Anon. You are really nice to me, unlike a lot of the school foals. Hey, I have an idea! How about you draw me something and I draw you something! Wont that be fun?” 47 lets out a chuckle.

“Ok, but only one drawing. I will be leaving soon” With much enthusiasm, Sweetie Belle gives him some crayons and paper. Before long she started off on her own. 47 stared down at the paper for some time before anything actually came to mind. He drew the one thing of importance to him, his insignia. Taking a black crayon, he started drawing light guidelines. After a while he switched to red to finish the drawing.

“Ok Mr. Anon, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!” Sweetie Belle presented a crude drawing of the two playing with a large red ball. The colors were spot on but the proportions were not to flattering. 47 Handed the artwork to her face down “For you Miss Belle.”

She turned it over, her eyes filling with tears. To her it looked like a large red rose with a small thorn less stem, lying on the ground. The petals sharp with some symmetry. He clearly but a lot of effort into it. “I love it!” She rushed over to 47 and jumped up onto him, wrapping her forelegs around his neck. “This is the nicest thing anypony has ever done for me. Thank you so much Mr. Anon!” 47 awkwardly half hugged her back and looked up to see Zecora with a big cheesy grin on her face. how long Zecora, how long!? He shot the most sinister glare he could muster in her general direction. She just closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. 47 could not help but smile after seeing Zecora be so silly. This smile was not one he had to force, it was a true genuine moment of happiness.

“I hate to interrupt but, Rarity is done with your new clothes.” Zecora took the folded clothes out of her saddlebag and presented them to him. Cradling the new parasite that he’d acquired, 47 stood up and walked the distance to Zecora.

“I propose a trade Zecora. The girl for the clothes for the girl.”

“Deal.”

47 Pulled on Sweetie a little only to find her squeezing tighter. “Come on now sweetie.”

She buries her head into his shoulder. “But you are so warm Mr. Anon~”

Zecora chimes in “Come now Sweetie belle, Anon Needs to get dressed” A sigh can be heard from Sweetie Belle

“Ok Zecora…” She releases 47 from her vice grip. He gently sets her on the ground. She tries her best to pout but when 47 pats her head she can’t stop herself from smiling “Okok, I’ll let him get dressed. Just let me pick all my stuff up.” Sweetie belle starts rushing around the room collecting her things and tossing them haphazardly into her bag. The only thing that she regards with care is the drawing 47 made. Zecora moved a little closer to 47

“Sorry, she caught rarity and I talking about you” She whispered. 47 took the clothes from Zecora and began to inspect them thoroughly stretching them in certain various places.

“We will talk about it later” He said bluntly. 47 catches sweetie before she has a chance to leave the room. Scooping her up saddlebags and all. “If you are good and listen to Rarity, I will come back and visit. Does that sound nice?” Sweetie gets a huge smile

“I’ll be the best filly in school Mr. Anon. I promise!” With that said 47 sets Sweetie Belle on the floor. She rushes back upstairs and out of sight. Zecora closes the door and breathes a sigh of relief. When she turns around she freezes in her tracks. Anon already has most of his suit off, save for the pants. Zecora blushed furiously and turned her head away.

“You are awfully quiet back there zecora” 47 said while taking off his shoes, gloves, then sliding off his slacks with ease.

“I-I am fine. I did not know you were undressing already” No attempt was made to cover-up the fact that she was flustered. 47 looked back to see Zecora turned away from him. He slides up his new pair of jeans to discover that the fit like a glove. She really is good. Maybe even the best tailor I have had. After securing his pants he took the coin from his old slacks placed it in his new pocket. Looking back at Zecora he could see her shifting back and forth uncomfortably.

“You know I don’t mind if you look Zecora. I am not that scary close up.” She stiffened up just like a board. Before she knew it he was right behind her, his hand running through her fur and up her spine. Oh by the goddess does this feel good. 47 left his hand at the base of her neck hoops, right on her left shoulder. “Zecora” he whispered “It is ok, I am not going to get upset.” Shakily she turned her head and meet 47’s gaze. His expression was softer than normal. Try as she might, her face felt like it was on fire. “You can look at my body, I feel comfortable with you.” 47 could not understand why he was doing this but it felt right. Zecora turned her body to face his. 47 sat on both of his knees with open arms. She slowly circled him taking note of all the Scars and indentations on his body. The Contracture scar that led from his lower right shoulder to his elbow as well as the three vertically orientated contractures on his right breast. A few deeper laceration scars on his left breast. Some of the scars were round, Zecora had no idea how they could have been made. There was one on his chin but the one she found most interesting one was the horizontal scar running through his cutiemark on the back of his head.

“You have been through a lot my friend” She said in a low tone. Zecora decides to make one last round about to make sure she had not missed anything. Her eyes started to look more at his exquisite physique. The muscle definition. His toned back, with every curve in the right place. By the time she made it full circle she had decided This is my stallion and I will make him know that I have chosen him. She lightly puts a hoof on his chest. Now or never Zecora She leans her muzzle forward, eyes close, moving in for a kiss. Before she could plant it 47 stands up abruptly, almost toppling her over.

“Well that got weird.” He said putting on his new white shirt. Zecora’s head cleared and she finally realized the gravity of what she had almost done.

The more Zecora tried to justify her actions the more upset she grew “Anonymous I did not mean! I was not- What I am trying to say!”

“Zecora. Stop talking. You are making it worse for yourself.” He said bluntly, folding up his old suit. Zecora fell back on her haunches and remained silent. “We have some things to talk about Zecora. Very important things.”

Zecora swallowed “W-what things do we need to talk about A-anon?” She could feel herself flush just by saying his name.

“Well mostly about this” He said opening the lid. “Come look.” Zecora rose to her hooves once more and trotted over.

“What is that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. It was trying to kill us”