He Who Stands On Vigil

Hawkri stood on the platform, breathing steam puffs into the freezing night air, his eyes wide with the sight he beheld.

There were all them Elements of Harmony – the lavender-coated librarian, the orange hat-sporting cowpony, the butter-yellow vet Pegasus, the crazed pink party animal, cyan-colored speedster with prismatic mane and tail and a marshmallow-white fashionista-unicorn. All of them were dressed warm and ready to roll, saddlebags fastened and filled.

“Er… Hi, ladies – what are you doing here?”

His question was ignored, and, to discard the awkward situation, Hawkri just lit a cigarette and sat on the bench.

“Train to Vanhoover arriving in five minutes.” – the conductor chimed in, tipping his hat to ponies and huffing slightly at our hero before coming back to his booth.

It was pretty cold out there.

When the cigarette was almost done with, Applejack cleared her throat, approaching the man:

“Heya, Hawkri was it?”

“Yup.”

“Ah wuz jus’ interested – how come that’cha took all that responsibility? Ah mean…”

“I got the drift, Applejack. I felt like this was right.”

“Why such the change of heart?”

“Because…” – Hawkri’s voice stopped short, and he let loose the uneasy sigh: that one mare was right. Right she was. Playing a total jerk cards to the denizens of Ponyville, he built up a steady reputation of “don’t-fuck-with-me” man, and he was generally avoided no to drag enough trouble.

“Because I was there when her mother was killed, and I was there when her mother died, so what you think I should’ve done?” – he slurred out, spitting at the rails.

“Ah dunno… well, juz leave that lil’ filly and get back t’ whatever ya’re doing?” – Applejack shrugged, staring at Hawkri intently.

There was no answer, and only the heavy breathing steamed into the chilling air. Awkward silence was there to stay, and the inbound train did few to change that – ponies boarded in silence, and so did Hawkri, sweeping some snow from his shoulders.

The carriage they got their places at was a sleeping compartment, and it held sleeping boxes, big enough for a pony to fit comfortably in, but not big enough for Hawkri. He managed to get inside, and was now stirring like a big bear in a small burrow, until he finally found a suitable position for himself, with legs bent and pressed against the wall of a carriage, and still, even folded this way, his head pressed hard against the wall of the compartment, and even the pillow was a little relief to his suffering. With a groan akin to the groan of an irritated bear, he squirmed out of his compartment, silently slid down and went to the tambour for a quick night smoke. Folding his fingers in a pinch, like Twilight taught him, he managed to conjure a flickering fire at the tip of them, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. A grim smile crept to his features, as our hero was much pleased with his skills.

“Umm… Can I ask you a question?.. if you’re okay with that?..” – the almost inaudible whisper behind his back make Hawkri launch his hand for the hilt of his blade, but none was present.

“Sure, Fluttershy.” – he turned to the timid Pegasus, which was shuffling at her hooves uncomfortably.

“I was just thinking… That, umm…” – the butter-yellow mare murmured, hiding behind her curtaining mane, which made her voice even more muffled.

“Бля… Fluttershy, please, speak up, if you want to be heard.” – Hawkri crouched near the Pegasus, holding his cigarette out; its tip was burning ember, and a trickle of bluish smoke danced in the air, dissipating under the roof of the carriage.

“I was just thinking…” – now the voice of animal caretaker was loud enough to match the normal whisper of an average person. – “Why did you had to… well, adopt Sunny? And how are you going to manage? Later, when it’s time for you to go?”

Hawkri winced, as if Fluttershy bucked him hard. Her words hit home, strumming the uncovered wound.

“I don’t know. Well, I do, mostly, but… Damn, this is complicated. Take a sit, Flutters, this is going to be hell of a long story.” – our hero sat to the carriage floor, legs crossed, accompanied by the Pegasus, who sat on her haunches and prepared to listen.

“Now, first of all – this conversation should be left between the two of us. Can I trust you with that?” – Nick’s green eyes stared intently and almost threatening into Fluttershy’s; the mare nodded, rather determined, and Hawkri kept on with his speaking.

“There is one thing that I prize more than anything in my life – it’s my honor. And sometimes I can do pretty… nasty things to accomplish with what my honor says me, and thus I am being quite avoided. The same I did for you, Fluttershy, when we first met – but there was my pride, and I couldn’t stand the feeling of being cared for. I just sneaked away, as you may know, and dashed straight away. And I regret playing such jerk on you, and I will beg your pardon for this, but this is not the subject matter. I mean, this is what I feel like, and let’s leave it there, ‘kay?”

“Sure...” – the timid and obviously frightened Pegasus squeaked in terror.

“Good. Now I am going to hit th’ hay and strongly advise you to do the same. Goodnight Flutters.” – Hawkri quickly raised to his feet, towering in the middle of tambour like a monument to the mankind and strode off, clicking his joints and crisping a neck.

“This is going to be quick. I can tell.” – he tried to reason himself, fitting into the box and grunting while trying to bend himself enough to fit. But something felt odd and alien in his mind, and it was a leftover of a conversation with kind pony. He was just too different, and this bothered him as Hell.

All in all, he had fallen asleep after all.

But his night was far from silent and quiet. He was dreaming, and his dreams were abnormal – he had seen all the people and ponies he had seen in his life. They were standing both sides from him, like an endless corridor of living creatures, like silent guards, watching every single of his tiny movements. And in the end of these seemingly endless rows, subject to the awkward dream logic, was standing Sunny’s mother, Green Fields, a faint smile dancing on her lips.

“I hope you take good care of my filly, sir Hawkri. I’ve trusted her to you, so do not fail.” – The mare’s voice came reverberating, as if transmitted on a dead frequency.

Hawkri was painfully aware of his awakening – he was shouting, like there was no tomorrow, a deep, throaty bellow, cold sweat streaming down his spine, breeding millions of slow, icy maggots, crawling down deep inside.

“Hey! Hey!!!” – a sharp yell dragged his attention, and he gazed, blindly, into the Twilight’s eyes, concern clear in her features.

“What in the name of Celestia is happening?”

“I had a… bad dream.”

“Everypony experience them from time to time! There is nothing…”

“I do never dream. My night is a shuteye and an awakening.” – Ponies froze in silence after this.

“You mean… you do not see dreams?” – Dash inquired cautiously.

“This is… unnatural!” – Rarity chimed in.

“As far as I know, the Dreamscape is open to anypony!” – Twilight creased her brow in disbelief.

“Assuming I am not a pony – well, they say this is a psychological issue. Like, my mind is either too overloaded or too well-disciplined to make me dream.” – Hawkri shrugged off the awkward conversation that was yet to come.

“No! This is really, really unnatural! I mean…” – the rough, callused palm pressed itself against the Twilight’s mouth, effectively silencing her.

“It. Is. Okay. Twilight.” – Carefully enunciating every word, Hawkri stuttered out.

“Furthermore, it is a middle of the night. I think this may wait till we arrive.”

“He’s right, y’all.” – AJ raised her voice. – “Guess we’d better hit th’ hay now, wouldn’t we?”

“Yeah… Mmm-hmm… Right…” – ponies replied hesitantly.

Then the carriage was once again permeated with silence and darkness, and only the sound of wheels was resonating throughout the place – choo-choo, choo-choo… Choo-choo, choo-choo…

Meanwhile, back in Ponyville, Sunrise Glitter was playing chess with Cheerilee.

“Checkmate, miss Cheerilee!” – filly was shining with glee.

“Indeed, this is a flawless victory, Sunny!” – the schoolmarm smiled warmly, ruffling the foal’s mane a bit.

“You are very good at it! I bet your special talent would be chess, and the same cutie mark.”

Sunny’s ears splayed back with the statement and Cheerilee winced involuntarily. She loved her students. And she was feeling strange warmth inside her, being near Sunny.

Unicorn filly blew the stray lock of mane off her eyes and asked straightforwardly:

“Do you like my dad?”

“Huh?”

“Nick, I mean, Hawkri. Do you like him?”

“Err…” – Cheerilee tried to smile, but it turned out like a grimace. She had never been a good liar, and no lies would even be needed, but the question itself was pretty… uneasy.

“And what made you think so?”

“Well, he comes to talk to you pretty often, you smile every time you see him.” – the peach-colored filly looked stern into the eyes of the teacher, wisdom beyond her age in her gaze.

Cheerilee felt really, oh so really uncomfortable.

“Well… Sunny. I do like Mister Hawkri – I respect him as a good person, and he takes good care of you, and he is really dependable…”

“Miss Cheerilee, you sure know what I am talking about. He cannot replace me my real father, but he sure tries hard. And if so…” – such a stern reply from a small filly sent cold, pricky needles down the mulberry mare’s spine. She placed a hoof, gingerly and gently, against Sunny’s cheek:

“I cannot say.”

“I see.”

Snow was whirling small blizzards behind the windows, and the wind in the chimney was howling and weeping, like a lost child.

“Hey, lazybones – Vanhoover in fifteen minutes.” – Hawkri woke up immediately with a feeling of a hot boulder, rolling behind his eyes and ravaging his skull from inside. Starting upwards, he banged his forehead against the ceiling so hard, that sparkles from his eyes could have started a good forest fire.

Hissing and cursing, he grabbed the damaged part with both hands and looked at Applejack, who was nudging his shoulder. The mare smiled, concern clear in her features:

“Good mornin’, y’all.”

“Indeed, good morning, Applejack. Thanks for wakin’ me up.” – Nick smiled, ignoring the stinging pain in his temples, and squirmed his way out from the sleep compartment. This ought to be a funny view – first – wriggling feet, then legs themselves appeared in midair, and then the man’s rump, sporting a loose camo pants – and as a sound provision behind that all, muffled grumbling and cursing.

Landing successfully, Hawkri made a beeline to the toilet. Finishing with his morning cleaning routine, he produced a pack of cigarettes, fiddled with it for a second and slid it back into the pocket.

“Daaw, t’Hell all this – we’re almost there.” – pushing the door to the main part of the carriage, he had seen that ponies already gathered around Twilight and were discussing something.

“…once we’re at the place, we should find somepony called…” – the librarian checked a scroll, held tightly in her telekinetic grip. – “Hack Wrench.”

“Gee, that’s a name…” – Rainbow drawled, as if recalling something.

“Anyway, he is the messenger. It says here he will be expecting us at some establishment, called ‘Maple Leaf’.” – Twilight frowned, inspecting the scroll, as if she was looking for some concealed text.

“That’s all.” – Hawkri cleared his throat. – “If you ladies don’t mind, we’re almost at the platform, and if I were you…” – our hero’s voice stopped short, seeing that the lavender and light blue auras fastened the saddlebags to the ponies – respectively.

“Don’t mind me.” – He grumbled and reached for his belongings. The blade sat snugly behind his back, belts fastened snugly, and coat thrown above – he was all set.

The brakes screeched, throwing bouquets of sparkles all around, and conductor announced the stop. Seven of them dislodged the train, welcomed by the freezing cold and sharp ice shards.

“Fuck! We’re in a blizzard!” – Hawkri mumbled through the razor-sharp gust of wind, trying to cover his face with a collar of his coat. Suddenly, the pink wall erupted from nowhere, cutting off the wind and snow. Twilight sighed and led the group, supporting her shield spell.

“Well, this is much easier.” – Hawkri chuckled, following Applejack.

The next fifteen minutes they’ve passed inside the railroad station, trying to explain their next destination to the silly-looking mare behind the counter:

“We need to get to…” – Twilight was already gesturing her inquiry to the mare, who seemed very interested – but never understood the word. – “…the ‘Maple Leaf’!”

“Parlez vous Prançais?” – the mare asked, finally, looking at the group with mismatching eyes – one was bright amber color, while another was deep navy blue. Such contrast was kind of spooky.

“Oh, she’s Prench! Allow me…” – Rarity trotted in and chirped something. Mare’s ears perked up and she replied with a stream of almost unintelligible words.

The conversation lasted for a good ten minutes – during which Hawkri managed to go for a smoke, place a bet with Applejack and memorize half of the timetable, hanging at the wall.

“Au revoire, mon ami!” – finally chirped Rarity, trotting elegantly to the rest of the group. “Monique said this is really, really close – just a hoof length from here!”

“And what has taken ya so long, Ah wonder?” – Applejack snided, smirking to Hawkri.

“Why, I positively had to know what’s in this year in Prance!” – Rarity rolled her eyes.

“He-he, Hawkri – looks like somepony loosed!” – AJ smirked sinisterly, nudging our hero with her hoof.

“I guess so…” – Nick sighed heavily, scratching his head. – “So, what’cha wanna me t’do, boss?”

“Nufin much – thirty push-ups, right here!” – AJ commanded, giggling.

“Nuuuughhh… ‘kay.” – Hawkri took his position and began doing push-ups.

“An’ dont’cha forget ta count!” – Applejack was already rolling at the floor laughing her ass off.

“Ten! Eleven! Twelve… Twenty-two… Twenty-nine! Thirty!” – Hawkri exhaled, still standing on four bones. – “There you go. Good enough?”

“Yup.”

“Then we should keep goin’, I suppose? Heh?”

“Sure!” – And fully satisfied Applejack trotted forward, opening the door and letting the chill inside.

“Y’all what, froze to th’ floor?” – She giggled, proceeding.

“I’ll kill that mare one day…” – muttered Hawkri, producing a couple of fingerless gloves and fastening them on his hands. Shrugging his bag higher, he smiled to the shocked ponies around and hightailed after the leaving Elements of Harmony.

The morning tranquility in Ponyville was a pure bliss after the night’s blizzard. Cheerilee was dozing off at the couch in Sunny’s house, fireplace almost died out, and the frost patterns on the windows reflected and dispersed the sunlight filtering through it, making the interior of a common, humble house look like a fairy tale. The opened book was lying forgotten on the floor, and Sunrise Glitter cuddled close to the schoolmarm, slightly snoring in her sleep. No one would want to interrupt such a beautiful dream, and neither would we.

The ‘Maple Leaf’ appeared to be the small canteen, almost devoid of customers – except for a lanky colored man, sporting an oil-stained jumpsuit and a black Mohawk. He was sipping on a coffee and reading a newspaper, and he seemed so consumed with his occupation, that he had even paid no attention to the doorbell ringing and hooves clopping against the floor tiling.

“So, we’re here. Who is Hack Wrench?” – Pinkie demanded sleepily. She looked like she needed coffee. Hawkri shook his head – he knew just for certain that this pink menace was constantly hopping on the bean.

“Что совой об пень, что пнем об сову…” – he mumbled, chuckling to himself while studying the menu.

“Looks like he’s not here yet?” – Twilight threw a wild guess, which had gone totally idle – everypony was busy with their affairs. Fluttershy climbed into the farthest booth and mumbled something to Pinkie, Applejack was studying the menu as well, Rarity was too busy arranging her mane, and Rainbow Dash was fiddling with a drinking straw. So Twilight just ordered herself something to eat and coffee and joined Fluttershy. Others followed suit, but Hawkri stayed at the counter.

“Hey, mister.” – He addressed the stallion behind the counter, - “I need somepony called Hack Wrench. Is he in here?”

“Err, you mean the ol’ Wrenchie? No, he’ll come by, lemmesee, around an hour. Is there a problem, pal?” – The bartender cocked his head to the side, examining Nick’s features.

“Not at the slightest. Thank ye kindly, sir. And yes, I’ll be some omelette with cheese and coffee, please.” – Hawkri tried to put on his best smile, which seemed to work pretty well – at least the suspicious couterman accepted his offer and smiled back.

“Hey, matey – ya got a light?” – Somebody drawled from behind him, with a thick, cockney-like accent, which was neither pure English nor the dialect.

“Yeah, sure.” – He turned round to face the lanky negro, baring his teeth in the pity attempt to smile.

“Ya wuz lookin fer Hack Wrench?”

“Kind of. What’s it to you?” – Lighter appeared in Hawkri’s hands, and a small fire came to life with a trigger click.

“Cuz I are the Wrench, matey.” – The guy in the jumpsuit smiled nastily, blowing a puff of smoke into the man’s face.

“Do it again, and they’ll call ye Screw Loose. Matey.” – Hawkri responded with a smile. – “Then, if you really are who you claim you are, there are my friends. Come to them, they’ll tell ya, what to do.”

“Okie-dokie, matey, ye’r da boss here…” – the heinous colored dude grinned again and followed Hawkri to the booth, where ponies were having breakfast and chatting.

“Ladies – looks like this is the one we were looking for. Hack Wrench.” – the black guy smiled nastily and waved a hand at the Elements.

“Err… we were expecting you to be a pony… kinda…” – Rainbow Dash inquired suspiciously.

“Mah homies call me Hack Wrench, so Ah guess Ah’m da one ya need.” – With every second passing Hawkri felt something fishy around this goon. He downed his coffee down and clutched a mug – just in case. All his experience of bar fights – both drunk and sober – told the man that the mug can be better than even any pistol – just you time it right.

“Okay… Well, Mister Wrench – we are supposed to be at Princess’ today. Will you lead us?”

“Not a prob, gal, Ah’ll juz stuff mah eathole with sumfin ta munch – hell, amma so fuggin hungry…”

“I know that feeling – when you get munchies…” – sighed Pinkie, whose mane seemingly deflated and now hung, curtain-like, at the side of her head.

“Applejack – can I have you for a second?” – Hawkri gestured outside the canteen.

“Sure thing, sugarcube – sup?” – the mare trotted easily from the table and followed the man.

Vanhoover buzzed outside. It was nothing much, really – an industrial city, much like lots of cities back in Hawkri’s world. Ponies, harnessed in carriages, were shuffling all around, other ponies were strolling down the streets – the day was only beginning. Tall buildings and factory chimneys reigned in the dim, gray sky above. The snow ceased dropping, and wind died down, so the plumes of ink-black smoke were like a tall totems of the unknown industrial deity.

AJ shuffled her hooves: the farmer pony was clearly not much comfortable in the chilly outdoor.

“What’s that matter ya summoned me fer, sugarcube?”

“I’ve asked the bartender, if there is any Hack Wrench.”

“So? He had shown ya that funny black dude?”

“No. He said that ‘the ol’ Wrenchie’ will come in an hour, tops.”

Applejack shook her head:

“Ya mean…”

“He may call himself Hack Wrench, but from how much I see, this sonofabitch is an imposter. Or a mugger tops. So, I’ll be here for a smoke, and you get back there. If he’ll twig the wrong way – buck that asshat well. I’ll be here.”

The orange pony’s muzzle creased with suspicion:

“Sugarcube, y’all may be overdramatizing things juz a tad bit…”

But no. Hawkri was not. A loud, ear-piercing shriek erupted like a volcano, and both – pony and human – charged inside, nearly busting the hell out of the door. What they had seen was Rarity, flailing her hooves all around and shrieking like there was no tomorrow, while she was held fast by that negro – Wrench or whatever his name was. A dirty, hand-made blade was held at her throat, while the tapster was aiming at the rest of the ponies with a shotgun, customized for a pony use.

“AJ – down there…” – Hawkri gestured, enunciating the words with his lips only. AJ nodded her approval and crawled down to the counter, hiding under the tables, which was not that big a deal, because all attention was fixed at Hawkri, who was standing, his arms lifted, and smiling like a total goofball.

“Hack Wrench, whaddya want, fella? And why’d ya grab mah friend like that?”

“Let me go, you beast, you ruffian! Let me be this instant! It is an unbecoming behavior when around lady!” – Rarity’s shrieks never made it easier.

“Now ye’r talkin’, huh? Money! Solid fuggin cash, right here an’ right now, matey…” – the black guy slurred the last word in an especially filthy manner.

“Dontcha e’en think of usin’ dat fancy-schmancy majyyks o’ yers, m’dear…” – the tapster waved his shotgun, baring his teeth in a pale reminiscence of a smile. – “Juz ye flare dat horn o’yers – and y’all have a couple o’ extra holes in ye.” – The weapon clicked with a very nasty “cling-clank”.

“Okay-okay, fellow… Just take that easy. Here’s all them money we have.” – Hawkri produced a pouch of coins from his pocket, dandling it in the air to indicate them were really money.

“Put it on th’ counter. An’ take it easy, mate – one wrong step and mah homie Hack will draw that lass o’yers an extra mouth.” – The bartender flipped his ear to indicate that his patience was running low.

Slowly, steadily Hawkri approached the counter, his arms raised all the time, his mind racing. He hoped that Applejack would be witty enough to follow his example and make this small and risky as Hell made-up-rescue-plan into a full-fledged rescue operation.

As soon as the pouch of bits touched the counter, the short and dull barrel of shotgun swiveled around, now looking at Hawkri’s chest.

“Sorry, matey – y’all know t’much.” – the black guy was smiling a smile of an idiot, showing the world his rare teeth.

“Well, okay…” – Nick’s head hung low, as if submitting to the circumstances, while his hand caught a grasp at the high bar stool back.

“But…”

‘What?” – The tapster nervously cocked the gun.

“Can I have a last smoke?” – Nick’s hand clutched tightly around the cold metal of the stool.

Stallion’s snout looked the same as if it had broken – such wide was his sadistic smile.

“Have one…”

“Catch!” – Yelled Hawkri, releasing a small fireball from a folded in a pinch fingers, as Twilight taught him. The gunpowder in the shell burst, and the tapster dropped the gun, swirling at the place and cursing like there is no tomorrow, but a roundhouse buck from Applejack brought him to the ground out cold.

Hack Wrench has never been too bright or too quick. And when the heavy stool found its best landing site at his head, he regretted that.

All the fight took no more than three heartbeats. All them ponies looked unharmed, if a bit startled. Except for Pinkie, who was plainly sipping her coffee. The second pot of the stuff.

“Well… Good moving, I’d say…” – Rainbow Dash finally found her voice to stutter out something more or less intelligible.

“Hey, he’d just saved our flanks! Dontcha forget that, sugarcube!” – AJ’s head popped up from beneath the counter, tugging the loose end of the lasso with her teeth. Twilight shook off her confusion and opened her mouth to say something, but the moan from somewhere down attracted their attention.

That was the Wrench guy – he was squirming weakly and moaning, trying to get back to his feet. But Rarity never gave him the chance to do so – a ladylike blow landed at the face and prevented him from doing so.

“Serves you right!” – She huffed, raised her snout and proceeded to the door with the sign “Mares” on it.

“Sure, she needs to arrange her mane after this.” – Hawkri chuckled, provoking an outburst of laughter from the ponies. At least, this was not a hysterical one – but a good, honest, hearty laughter.

“That pyrokinesis was pretty good. I’d rather say – decent…” – Twilight murmured, once the fit of laughter had let her be.

“I had a good teacher.”

“No, that’s not the point. It is fueled with not only your arcane power and mana flow inside your system, but also with your emotions and thoughts.” – Twilight snatched a piece of parchment and a quill from her saddlebags and began sketching some complicated schematics. This was about to develop to a full-blown lecture, if not Pinkie – who already regained her fluffy and slightly crazed composure:

“Twilight, what I am saying is not that much important how he had done that – the fact is that he did! And so I think we can throw a party!!” – The vicious-looking cannon appeared from somewhere (this was the most sacred of all Arcane Magic Sciences – the Magic of Random) and was about to blast, when Applejack stood forward and placed a hoof against the barrel of the cannon.

“Whoa nelly, take it easy. We’ll throw a party later, when this all will be all sorted out. And Ah promise Ah myself will lend ya a hoof with organizin’ it. ‘kay?”

“Okie-dokie-lokie!” – Bubbled the party animal, and the locked and loaded cannon disappeared as quickly as it had appeared before.

So, the crisis was coped with, bad goons all tied up and hung like a beef side in the locker room, and seven friends sat quietly, chatting and sipping their coffee, waiting for the Hack Wrench. The real one.

Once Hawkri’s inner chronometer claimed it was two hours since they got here, the door creaked open, letting in a robust middle-aged stallion, sporting a blue collar’s dungaree, stained with coal and machine oil. His coat was dusty and dirty, as if he just got out of the coal mine, and his mane was hanging in unkempt icicles.

The newcomer trotted tiredly to the counter and rang a bell once. Then he rang again, with a sigh.

“Hey, Tokey, where the hay are you?”

“Hack Wrench, I presume?” – Hawkri grinned sinisterly, appearing behind the stallion. Much to his surprise, he turned his head, inspected our hero and stated blankly:

“Nick Hawkri. The guardian of Sunrise Glitter and the person Princess wished to see. Yes, I am the Hack Wrench. At least, this is my disguise and my pseudonym.” – The strange stallion extended a hoof, offering a handshake.

“Nice to meet you…” – Nick was a bit flabbergasted with the reference he was just presented to. This stallion was something much more than just a messenger. He ought to be.

“Lady Twilight Sparkle, Lady Rainbow Dash, Lady Rarity, Lady Fluttershy, Lady Applejack and Lady Pinkie Pie  - I am Hack Wrench. Your messenger and guide.” – He bowed courteously. – “If you wish, we will proceed immediately, but if you would like to rest, I will lead you to your quarters Princess had booked for you.”

“We’d love to…” – Rarity began, but Pinkie cut her short with an elbow at the ribs:

“We’d love to see the Princess now, but we’re tired with the journey, and we’d like to have some rest.”

“Very well then, please, follow me. This is not really far away, so we’ll just trot there.” – the strange stallion turned his head to Hawkri. – “Sir Hawkri, please, follow me as well. Princess had reserved you an accommodation as well.”

«Как это мило, съешь меня черви…» - murmured Hawkri, shrugging his blade conveniently and following Hack Wrench.

While the bloody skirmish in Vanhoover was cresting, in quiet, sleepy, winter-coated Ponyville Sunrise Glitter stirred in her sleep, smiling to something only she had seen and only she knew. Cheerilee, who was already wide awake and sat reading a book, smiled at the view of the sleeping filly. Her heart warmed, as if he was her own daughter, and she silently wished this to be true.

But it was not, alas, and bittersweet sorrow was reigning in the soul of mulberry mare. She kept reading, but never caught the sense behind the lines. When Sunny yawned and stretched, gradually waking up, Cheerilee was reading the same page for the fifth time already, words just flowing past her mind.

“Morning, miss Cheerilee…” – smiled the filly, trotting to the bathroom.

“Morning, Sunny.” – replied the teacher, following the foal with her eyes.

“Wise beyond her ages, bright and talented – but lethally dangerous to all ponykind? What kind of cruel irony is behind it?”

The ‘accommodations’, reserved by Princess for the seven of them, were nothing outstanding – standard rooms for two, humbly furnished, light and simple. All to his liking.

“This room is for Ladies Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie.” – Hack Wrench gestured towards the door with a brass number “1” on it.

“This one is for Ladies Rarity and Applejack.” – The same towards number “2”.

“This is for Ladies Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash” – Waving a hoof towards number “3”.

Stopping in front of the last door, which was adorned with the plate number “5”, Hack Wrench hesitated for a second.

“Sir Hawkri, those accommodations are yours. But…”

“I don’t like that ‘but’ thing. What’s it?” – Our hero shrugged uncomfortably.

“This room was once an office for a stage commandant, but… a crime was once committed in here. Racket and battery, precisely.”

“And how should this repulse me or anyone else from staying here?” – Hawkri’s smile grew wider and wider.

“My obligation is to warn you, sir. Have a good stay. I will come around at half past nine in the evening to escort all of you to the Princess. Good luck, sir.” – With a courteous, but filled with dignity bow Hack Wrench trotted down the corridor.

“Подумаешь – рэкет и побои… Я и похуже вытворял.” – mused Nick to himself, entering the room.

It was rather decent – for a hotel room. Nothing odd, bed-wardrobe-drawer. A great window was spreading all over the opposite to the entrance wall, and the landscape of Vanhoover – the best part of it – was quite a sight to see. A neat park, which was seen from the window, winked friendly with a frozen mirror of a pond. Bare trees, covered with fluffy caps of snow, stood like a guard of honor all around the cleaned paths, and some figures – both ponies and humans – were seen strolling down the park, enjoying the fine day and the fair winter weather.

“He said ‘nine-thirty’, huh…” – Hawkri checked his wristwatch. – “Looks like I have a shitload of time to stroll around. Better check this out.”

Said means done, and Nick, dropping his bag into the wardrobe and picking just the necessary – a pouch of coins and his gloves – went off to the corridor. Striding with his wide, sure gait, he made his way to the room, where Twilight and Rainbow were situated, and knocked three times.

Silence was the only answer.

He knocked again, somewhat more persistently. A quiet shuffle was heard from behind the door, and sleepy Twilight emerged from behind it.

“What’s it, Hawkri?” – she yawned, lowering her voice not to wake up Rainbow.

“Wrench told that he’ll come by half past nine in the evening. I’ll go stroll around, just for a walk, ‘kay?”

“Sure, just take care and don’t be late. There’s no way we’ll possibly find you here if you’ll get lost.” – Twilight yawned again and closed the door, leaving Nick to himself.

“Okay, you’re the boss…” – our hero muttered, shrugging. Something clenched to his back, and he frowned. He forgot of the scabbard.

“Ну так и быть.” – his sword sat snugly at the wardrobe, near the bag, and, free from everything that could get in his way, Hawkri hightailed outside – of fear that something else would occur and hold him back. But this was inappropriate – to his mind.

“Hey, Dinky – catch!” – the snowball whistled through the air, catching the unicorn filly in her side.

“Ah, so! Then you catch!” – Dinky Doo launched her own snowball in a mocking anger, which hit Sunny.

The snow fight between the fillies, complete with giggles and bursts of laughter, was watched silently by two mares.

“Say, Cheerilee – what’s it like – being a teacher?” – Ditzy inquired, cocking her head to the side.

“The same as being a mailmare, I guess.” – Cheerilee smiled. – “How can I tell?”

“At least – what do you feel about it?”

“Well… Some may say that I give these foals what they’ll need to know. At least, that’s the most common opinion, isn’t it?” – Ditzy nodded her approval. – “But what I feel… I see them grow up, and this warms my heart – the knowledge that I see their best age and I contribute in their development. I love all of them, as my own children – but I just cannot help myself not to feel…” – Cheerilee’s voice stopped short, as if the mulberry mare was trying to find some words. A stray lock of her mane fell to her eyes, but she ignored it.

“I feel… devoid of something important. They come and go, the generations change, and they promote to the next years – and I stay. That’s what I feel. Void inside.”

Derpy nudged the schoolmare gingerly:

“Hey, raise your spirits! I know that feeling – well, I thought I do, at least.”

“How so?”

“Well, Dinky is my little sister, as you know, right?”

“…”

“So, I know I will not be able to be by her all the time. She’ll grow, and she’ll find her own way. While I am a just a cross-eyed klutz and bound to carry the mail until my wings can hold me up. Then…” – Ditzy’s ears splayed back.

“You aren’t a klutz, Ditzy. I know you for the most part of my life, and I know what I’m talking about.” – Cheerilee hugged her friend, comforting her. – “You’re a loving, caring mare. Just don’t sell yourself short like this. You’re much stronger then you think. Trust me, I know.”

“Yeah, I guess…” – Ditzy’s reply was interrupted with a sudden snowball that hit her wing. A giggle was heard from behind the snow pile and a tiny “Sorry, sis!” was almost muffled by the burst of laughter.

“Ah so! It’s a war then!” – Ditzy yelled, smile plastered to her muzzle. Grabbing a hoofful of snow, she quickly formed a snowball and tossed it to Cheerilee.

The idea was contagious, and soon both mares were laughing and frolicking in the snow like foals.

“Hmm… Apple Avenue runs left, while I need… The hell I need, I’ll just go straight!” – Hawkri lit a cigarette, leisurely strolling down the pavement, looking at his reflections in the display windows and sometimes stopping by to examine the goods, laid out on display. He ran at the bookstore, which was pressed tight between some fancy cafeteria and a boutique. He’d just stroll by, if not the doorbell, hanging above the door, which was ripped off with a gust of wind and had fallen right to Nick’s feet.

“What?” – He crouched and grabbed the object: the small, bronze-cast bell, green with age but still loud and sharp. Shrugging, he just hung it back where it belonged. Being done, Hawkri pulled one last drag from the cigarette and threw the stub away to the litter bin near the door. The sign on it humbly proclaimed “The Lost Books”. Of course, no bookworm like Hawkri or Twilight could possibly just go past this, and man pulled the handle.

Heavy wooden door creaked open, and a wave of heavy, sweet, dusty odor hit Nick’s nostrils. This was the odor of old paper, leather and dust, accumulated through years of storage.

“Шикарно…” – moaned our hero, stepping inside. The door closed with a gentle “Thump”, cutting off any sounds from outside.

The towering bookshelves were standing everywhere – all filled to the brim. Ancient-looking volumes and scrolls lay near the paperbacks; soft-bounds were stacked at the small trolleys all around, mixed with the ones that looked like a flurry of sheets, stuffed into the cover. Some books were wrapped in leather or paper, some were covered with wooden slabs instead of cover – all kinds of them.

Hawkri took one – random at all. The title said “Мёртвые Души” – which as already amazing. How could the book from his world get into this universe?

But the main surprise was inside. Opening the book, Hawkri never read the well-known scenes. It was volume two! The one that was burnt!

“How?!...” – he croaked involuntarily, feeling cold in his guts. The amulet, that was resting around his neck, twitched and began tugging at the chain, as if it wished to run the hell away.

“There is nothing amusing, young master.” – a shaky, coarse voice sounded from the shadows under the spiral stairs, and some kind of creature – invisible in the deep shade – emerged from it, hiding its hands in the broad sleeves of some kind of robe. When it came closer to the lamp, Nick had managed that this was a man – incredibly old, wrinkled and bird-like, bent with age. But his eyes… They were shining bright, like a sapphire stones, drowned deep in their sockets under the bushy brows.

“My name is Azek, young master, I am the keeper of this librarium.” – a wide, circular gesture still never revealed the hands of this man.

“Nick Hawkri, pleased to meet you, sir…” – our hero managed to stutter out. Something was clearly fishy down here, he just knew it – but not the way ‘fishy’ usually have been.

“Ah! I have something for you, sir Hawkri… Here!” – Azek moved around with just incredible for his age speed and grace. He just… flown around the place. As if he was flying.

“This is the Liber Colloquii, master. Read it.” – an oddly familiar, black leather-bound book sat snugly in Hawkri’s hands. A strange, snake-like symbol was embossed in the black leather on the front cover, along with the runic encryption, Liber Colloquii. The Book of Conversations.

Our hero hesitantly weighed the volume in his hand. It was decently heavy and thick. How come that it was so much familiar? Nick’s fingertips danced through the smooth leather of the cover, feeling its warmth, and flipped it open.

Already the first lines were like a hammer blow: this was his own book! The one he’d write once! Theses that were rolling and colliding in the back of his mind, his own words, his own thoughts – all were here, scribed carefully in runes, the way he always did.

Still disbelieving his own eyes, he flipped the book further: schematics, sketches, diagrams, scribed at the dense yellowish paper – all were of his own!

“How?” – he turned to Azek, who was perching behind him, like a patient raven.

“This librarium contains the books that had never seen the world. Those that died in the mind of their creators, or were unfinished and laid as a pile of rough work or – as with Liber Colloquii – were stored so deeply and protected, that no one ever knew they existed.” – the old man shook his head, emitting some sound between the cough and croak – this should have been laughter.

“I… Uh… How could you have known that I’ll come by?”

“It is your fate – it is your way. The Architect of Fate would have brought you here no matter how long would this have taken.”

“You mean that I was somehow doomed to experience all this? The shift here, all odyssey with the Sunny…”

“Yes.” – now this was a full-fledged croak, those of an old raven.

Hawkri stood bemused. An amulet kept twitching, like a caged bird, reacting to magic, that permeated the air in this strange place. Clenching the book in his hands, he just stood there, while his mind raced in the spheres, unknown to any other.

Finally shaking off the delusion, he put the book to the counter and asked:

“Azek… And what’s up there – on the first floor?”

“There are the books that were destroyed, young master. All of them.” – something in the voice of the old shop owner warned Nick from getting up there, and he obeyed the impulse – grabbing a book and turning to Azek:

“How much do I owe you for the book?”

“You just took what is already yours, young master Hawkri. Or should I say – Grand Master Septimus?” – Azek grinned, baring white, large, sharp teeth, so contrasting with his external fragility and aged look. – “This is yours to take.”

“Thank you…” – muttered our hero, putting the book safely into the inner pocket of his coat, his head spinning right round and feeling funny, as if someone replaced his brain with a balloon and opened the gas valve, inflating it mercilessly.

“Azek?”

“Yes, Grand Master?”

“Don’t call me like that. How would you come here?.. I mean… In this universe?” – Hawkri just waved expressively, circling the roundabouts.

“I never came here. I am nowhere, Master.” – Azek grinned again, and Hawkri stepped back a mite, experiencing the moment of some illusion: he had seen the old, bent librarian – and at the same time a giant man, almost twice Hawkri’s height, whose eyes were glowing bright blue and radiance came all around his mighty body, sporting a wide crimson robe, with a great book chained to his waistband. Sculpted features were filled with interest, and his glowing eyes felt like x-ray – they were piercing it all to the very soul of our hero. Clean-shaved skull bore a great scar across the crown of the head, and he was leaning at a staff, which was seemingly carved from a solid crystal.

“Ahriman…” – whispered Hawkri under his breath.

However, the illusion dissipated as quick as it had appeared, and only the old raven-like librarian was there to stay, smiling viciously, his hands locked behind the decent cover of the broad sleeves of his robe.

“Come back anytime, Grand Master.” – Hawkri nodded, like an automaton, unable to comprehend what was happening – like he was possessed, and only the frantic tugs of the amulet on his neck reminded that he was still here.

Standing at the exit, he looked at Azek and smiled. Opening his mouth to say goodbye – the sounds of a simple phrase warped terribly, resonated and reverberated into something totally unknown - and spooky as Hell. Azek bowed low, respectfully, and the door behind Hawkri closed.

Chill wind outside arranged his mind. Shaking his head, Hawkri grabbed at his temples and sat to the border. The book – his book! – felt warm through the fabric of his turtleneck, heating up his chest. World around seemed steady and mundane – never Nick thought he’d be glad to say that. Lighting a cigarette with his fingers absentmindedly, he pulled a deep drag and coughed, inhaling too much cold air with the smoke, and this little accident has finally arranged everything the way it should have been.

Clearing his throat and glaring daggers at the innocent cigarette, he glanced at his wristwatch. Then he shook his wrist and knocked at the glass of the dial.

“Это что-то новенькое…” – he murmured to himself. He clearly remembered that before entering the bookstore – Librarium, flashed in his mind – it was ten in the morning. And now it was already four o’clock in the afternoon!

Six hours – but how? He could have sworn he passed not more than half an hour there – damn. Some more shenanigans. Oh well, shit happens, thought our hero, clicked his knuckles and made his way to the closest restaurant – munchies got him. And it was really not the way he was going to cope with that.

At the meantime, while Equestrian folk was enjoying their winter, high in the mountains, where winds howled like hungry wolves, a Griffin landed at the steep rock, protruding from the slope like a claw. Shaking the snow off his wings, the beast proceeded into the cave, descending down the unlit corridors. He needed no light, though – he remembered the road. Turn left – then right – and dead end. For anyone it was a dead end – but not for him and his brethren.

Razor-sharp claw dug a furrow at the smooth stone, and a great slab became transparent, revealing a big hall, dimly lit with fuming torches. It was not devoid of life, however – a Minotaur was pacing to and fro, arms clinched behind his back, armor clinking on his mighty frame with each movement. The Griffins, sitting at the corner, watched him with undisguised despise through half-lidded eyes.

The newcomer entered, unfurling his wings in a ritual gesture of greeting. Griffins responded with the same gesture, and a Minotaur, stopping his frantic pacing, banged his chest twice with his fist – a ritual of warriors’ greeting.

“So, Ignatius – what do you have?” – demanded the figure, concealed in shadows, and only the glistening eyes told that this was not an illusion, but a living creature. The voice – deep, silky and threatening – belonged to the Primus, the Headmaster of Order of Claw and Horn.

“Primus, my Master. Phosis, Alariche - nice to see you, ladies. Black Shard.” – the newcomer bowed to the Coven, proceeding to the circle in the center of the hall.

“I am afraid, my news would not be much pleasant, my Master. We’ve lost Steel Hooves.”

“How so?” – drawled the voice from the shadows.

“He had the filly. But then a human interjected.”

“Ha! Humans are no match for our power!” – bellowed the Minotaur, landing his fist to the stalagmite. Rock shards flew like a shrapnel, but the brute barely noticed the blow itself.

“But Steel Hooves’ head is laying in the Everfree Forest, and his flesh is fed to the wilds.” – snarled the Griffin from the corner – Phosis or Alariche, twin sisters. No one could tell them from one another, and when it came to fight, they were a deadly duet – a whirlwind of claws, beaks and paws.

“True it is, Phosis… And who is that human?” – inquired Primus, still remaining his position in the shadows, and only the lessened glistening of squinted eyes told he was interested.

“His name is Hawkri, milord. I cannot tell anything more – ponies erected steady airborne patrols, so I had to get out of there not to blow our cover.” – Ignatius confessed.

“You did well, Ignatius… You did well.” – Primus’ voice resembled a blade, cloaked in silk. – “You’ve repaid my faith in you.”

Bowing, Ignatius never had seen the hulk of Black Shard launching towards him. But even if he would have – his destiny was already known.

The Griffin’s head flew in the air, raining with crimson gore, showering the hall, while his decapitated corpse remained bowed for a split second – and then just folded down, like a broken straw, pooling the circle in its blood, streaming from the ripped apart arteries.

Black Shard snorted loudly, catching his victim’s head in midair and raising it in the air. His hooves were already washed with gore, and the Griffin sisters were watching the massacre with glee.

“He did his part. But now we need some help with that part…” – slurred the voice from the shadows, and a great, scaled paw reached to the puddle of blood, soaking in it.

“And we’ll need another scout for our Coven…” – added Primus, licking the blood of his subordinate from his claws.

Finishing his meal and paying the bill, Hawkri decided to move back to the hotel and study his own book. He was curious with how Azek called him the Grand Master. What in the fuck’s name should that mean?

First pages he had scanned through gave him no clue. There were a bunch of philosophic theses, and his thoughts of it, some schematics and some aphorisms – but that was not nearly enough to shed some light to his title.

“Все чудесатее и чудесатее…” – he mused, entering the warm lobby of his hotel and making a beeline to the closing already elevator doors.

“S’rry!” – And with a bang he fit right in, much to the dismay of already boarded ponies. Our hero smiled the best he could, squeezing against the elevator wall and trying not to breathe. This cabin was way too narrow for him and three ponies.

Once he got to his chamber and kicked the door open, anticipating how he will stretch his legs on the bed with a book, he heard a polite cough behind his back. There was a maid pony, looking at him with equal amounts of concern and interest.

“May I help you?” – Our hero demanded politely.

“I suppose so, sir.” – The mare creased an eyebrow at him. – “Could you please step aside? I’d like to gather my cleaning appliances.”

“And?..”

“And you’re blocking the way, sir – with all due respect.” – giggled the mare.

“Er – sure!” – Hawkri slipped into his room, smiling charmingly and waving a hand at the maid. – “G’bye!”

Finally home, he thought and chuckled at the very idea of calling a hotel room “home”. Indeed, his home was fuq knows where, and at least two dozens of moons was before he could possibly get there. So, lacking alternatives of something better…

Plopping himself at the bed and stretching his legs, Hawkri adjusted the pillow to the “read” position, produced the book and a pack of cigarettes. After a moment’s consideration, he raised his ass to go get an ashtray, grumbling and scratching his chin like a moron. Finally having all the necessities for a comfortable reading, he began studying his own book.

“Mmm! That’s wonderful, miss Derpy!” – Sunrise Glitter relished at the taste of a muffin, fresh out the oven, that Derpy put on her plate.

“I told you my sis makes them best muffins in Ponyville!” – chastised Dinky, sipping a bit of her tea.

“Cherilee, say, Hawkri is in Vanhoover, right?” – Derpy gazed at the teacher intently, bringing the next batch of muffins into the oven.

“Yes, he is. And what’s it?” – asked another mare, who was doing the dishes.

“I just thought… you know… to ask him out sometime, maybe?” – Ditzy blushed like a rose.

“Go ahead! Give it a shot, Ditz! I think he’ll buy it…” – Cheerilee made her best doe eyes, laughing at her own shenanigans.

“You think so?” – perked up the mailmare, faint smile on her lips.

“Why not?”

“Yeah… why not…”

Loud bangs against the door ripped Hawkri off his slumber; an irritated voice, that could belong to Rainbow Dash only, called out:

“Hawkri! Hawkri, Celestia damnit! I dunno whatcha doin’ there, but you’d better open the buckin’ door!”

Grunting and stretching, Nick raised from his bed. The open book thumped against the floor, attracting attention.

“I just… dozed off?” – Our hero amazed, walking to the door and opening it to reveal the infuriated Rainbow Dash.

“What’s your problem, after all?”

“I had a nap.” – Nick claimed ex cathedra, leaving Dash with a dropped jaw.

“What’s that? I had a bed hair?” – He tried to pull a joke, but with few success. Cyan pony instead just gestured at him, and Hawkri’s gut prophesied “Shitjusthitthefan”. Stimulated with this feeling, he hightailed to the mirror.

“Ебите меня семеро!!!” – A roar attracted way too much attention, but he never mind – indeed, the sight of his well-known, all his eyes turning yellow with a vertical pupil – lynx eyes – was something that justified such a thing.

And yes, he had bed hair.

“What’s wrong?” – the rest of the Mane Six rushed in, and the room became crowded at once.

“Twilight… Come here, would you please?” – demanded Nick in a low voice. The lavender mage submitted, cautiously advancing to the human companion.

“Can you make this get away?” – Hawkri pointed at his eyes.

“You want me to pull off your eyes?” – Twilight cocked her head.

“Are you kidding me? Look at them!”

“Well, it suits you. Yellow is definitely your color… - WHAT?!” – the librarian jumped as if she had realized just now.

“What in the hay is wrong with you?”

“Wish I’d have known!”

“Stand still.” – The purple ray from her horn buzzed all around Hawkri, up and down, and then dissipated, leaving a nasty sensation of itching.

“Looks like you are okay… And, if I am not mistaking, you can control your eyes – switch them back to normal and to this… mode?” – Twilight bit her lower lip in thought, pacing back and forth.

“Thanks, that helped. A lot.”- Snide brought them nowhere, of course, so Hawkri tried to at least follow the theory.

“I want my eyes back! My normal eyes!” – No effect.

“Occulum vulgaris!” – No effect.

“Shift!” – A tingling sensation appeared in the back of his head, and the irises returned their normal color, while the pupils shrank back to their natural form.

“Twilight, it worked.” – Our hero rubbed the corners of his eyes. – “Sorry for startling you girls, but I myself nearly shat bricks.”

“But that was soooo awesome!!” – Rainbow was just jumping with joy.

“It was undeniably. Unquestionably. Awesome!!”

“Glad you liked it…” – Hawkri shrugged cautiously. This mare was sometimes giving him the creeps.

“Anyway, y’all, tis nine o’clock already. If we wanna be on time, we’d better be quick!” – Applejack waved her hooves above her head, indicating that all this spooky scary stuff was beyond her reach.

“Indeed. Set up.” – Hawkri closed the book and tossed it into his bag, jumping into his boots.

Hack Wrench was waiting for them in the lobby, dressed in the same dungarees.

“You are early.” – He bowed to the group.

“We’d like not to keep the Princess waiting.” – Hawkri took the liberty to explain for everypony, omitting the unnecessary details.

“Good. Let’s get moving – the Princess had raised the Moon already and is expecting you to come.” – The stallion trotted to the exit, and so did the seven of them, including Hawkri, who was testing his new eyes.

“Shift!” – And the world behind his glasses turned into the vivid flashes of indescribable colors and hues. He had seen all over the place, 360 degrees, and could see the blood cells travelling through the body of a pony.

But the best feature was that casting what Twilight taught him with these eyes was way easier. Using a simple psychokinetic charm, that pushed the object at the side, opposite to the caster, he dug a great trench in the ground – with just air pressure. Shifting back to normal eyes, our hero decided to better hold on at the experiments, or his innocent wish to light a cigarette would cause a bloody inferno.

Their short walk brought them to the humble house, which was nothing outstanding. Hack Wrench knocked three times at the door, and a pale tan colored mare with green eyes opened the door.

“Honey, I’m home, and those are our guests.” – He proclaimed matter-of-factly, and the mare nodded her approval, letting the group in.

“I don’t get it!” – Twilight inquired curiously. – “We’re supposed to meet the Princess! And I don’t see the guards – none of them!”

“I am here, Twilight Sparkle.” – The mare smiled, closing the door and disappearing at a flash of light. Instead the humble Earth pony there was now a Princess of the night, standing proud and tall, her great wings flaring.

“Your Highness…” – all ponies bowed to the lunar diarch, and so did Hawkri, pressing his fist to the chest and bowing slightly.

“Rise, my little ponies. You may not tell me anything, as I know it all.” – The icy blue eyes of the alicorn stopped at Hawkri.

“Princess, I am sorry…” – Fluttershy raised her voice – whispered, it means – for the first time they were in Vanhoover. – “Pray tell, who is Hack Wrench? He is not the one he stands for, isn’t he?”

“My dear Fluttershy, perceptive as always. No, Hack Wrench is my personal Night Guard, Nightwing.” – The same bright flash made the appearance of a tired hard-working stallion disappear, and the bat pony was here to stay, bowing slightly to the gathered. – “I beg your pardon for this delusion, as it was necessary for our meeting.”

Everyone nodded their heads in approvement.

“So, Princess – I don’t quite get it. You mean that I’ll have to become a pony, right?” – Hawkri snorted with laughter, trying to comprehend the information he was presented to.

“Not quite, sir Hawkri. We will cast the same illusion on you, and you, physically remaining yourself, will look like and act like a pony.” – Luna explained, sipping some tea.

“Great.”

“Darling, I’d have been positively thrilled with the idea of changing your appearance!” – Rarity rolled her eyes. – “You look just horrendous!”

“Спасибо на добром слове…” – murmured our hero, making Luna chuckle.

“I could’ve patch up an ensemble for you, and you’d look just… fabulous!” – There was something in her eyes that told Hawkri “run far, run fast, run for your life”.

“And we could’ve made you up a new biography…” – drawled Twilight, immersed in her thoughts.

“Sugarcube, this ain’t some tomfoolery, ya know – we’re talkin’ of buckin’ serious matter…” – Applejack splayed her ears. – “Beg pard’n, Princess.”

“And then we could throw a great ‘welcome-to-Ponyville-totally-not-Hawkri-party!!” – cheered Pinkie.

“This looks like a good idea, frankly speaking…” – our hero admitted, assessing all the features. – “I can live with it, I suppose.”

“And you will.” – Promised Luna, her horn flaring.

“Now, how do I look?” – The thud behind his back told Nick that the mirror was there to show him. He turned back – and heard the soft shuffle of hooves. From the mirror a unicorn stallion was looking at him – tall, robust, mousey gray with green eyes and chestnut brown mane and tail. He shuffled at the mirror, looking at himself from all sides, and found that there was no cutie mark on his flank.

“Any ideas?” – Luna demanded, her horn still flaring.

“I guess that the chess rook would be too easy?” – Snided Hawkri, taking a seat at the chair, which looked as if the stallion he was sat on his haunches.

“What about the stack of books?”

“Maybe, a smoking pipe?”

“Or a ring?”

“Oak leaf?”

“Wait. Let it be raven.” – Hawkri smiled with the wild idea.

“Huh?” – Luna creased her brow in unison with all the others.

“What? You want me to keep incognito?”

“Well, he has a point here.” – Pinkie chimed in.

“So be it.” – Lunar Princess’ horn flared once again, and an image of sitting raven appeared at the faux Hawkri’s flank.

“Thus I proclaim you, Raven Wing, the citizen of Equestria and Sunrise Glitter’s step-uncle!” – The tight scroll of parchment appeared from the thin air, and Hawkri reached for it, seemingly grabbing it with his telekinetic field and unfurling it.

“Thank, your Highness.” – He stood up and bowed again. – “There’s only one question: how could Sunny know that I am Hawkri?”

“I’ll show you.” – The sly grin appeared at the diarch’s muzzle, as she summoned a  small mirror.

“With a mirr… - ow!” – The mirror collided with Hawkri’s head, shattering to the thousand pieces.

“What was that for?”

“It takes a mirror to seal our deal, sir Hawkri.” – winked Luna.