Chapters It was a third moon of Hawkri’s presence in the blissful land of Equestria. From what he knew of Twilight, it was thirty moons until he could have returned to his own land. The perspective of passing two and a half years trapped – as he put it – was not that much bright, but, after studying the myriad of books both in Ponyville library and the Canterlot Archives, he realized that he could only succumb to this grief fate. Well then, he preferred to keep it chill. But one day the thunder clashed.
It was a rather peaceful night – autumn-way chilly, windy and humid, so Nick was forced to wrap himself into a leather jacket of Manticore’s coat – the remnants of a fight were still sore – and on this night, beheld by the full Moon, our hero was strolling around the outskirts of sleeping Ponyville, around the brim of the Everfree. He was humming a gleeful tune, dragging at his cigarette, and basically, he didn’t gave a single heck – but then came a scream. A muffled one, but surely a distress call.
"Не понял…" - muttered Hawkri under his breath, dashing head-first at the very direction of the scream. Slamming his way through the bushes and stumps, he was fixed on the single idea – to find out, who was there. In the night! At the Everfree Forest! It took to be either a reckless fighter or a suicidal to get there. Anyway, despite acting like an independent jerk most of the time and to most ponies, Nick simply could not turn his back to those, who needed help. That’s what made him whole.
"Hey! Hey!!!" – he cried out, dashing out to the clearing.
The answer came with a scream, from the left of his current position. But now he could hear not just the scream of terror, but also the guttural bellow.
"Это беда."
Another crazy spurt – and Hawkri jumped in, with his blade unsheathed, between the two ponies and some abomination, which looked like a chimera – lion’s head, eagle’s paws, snake for tail… And it was threatening some mare – a petite Earth pony mare with cream-colored coat, flowing amber-colored mane and green eyes, dimmed with utter terror. Hawkri could not see her cutie mark, but that was not of an essence – there was also a filly there. The foal clutched the mare, terrorized and trembling, and closed its eyes shut, desperately trying to dislodge the threat.
"What are you just doing here, ma’am? It’s crazy to go into Everfree at night!" – Hawkri shouted, preparing for fight with a chimera.
"I was here to find my daughter! She was lost!" – the mare stuttered out, her gaze fixed at the beast, who was clawing the soil and drooping spit all around.
"Вот дает!" – mumbled our hero to himself, dragging his jacket off and winding it onto his left arm – just in case, to block off the beast’s bite. However, his chances were ghostly – with a small claw-like curved blade, designed more for skinning, and a traumatized shoulder against the true machine of death. However, he was pretty much determined to win the ponies some time to get away. Disregarding the losses.
The first pounce of the beast was blocked off by Hawkri, who took an opportunity to jab the chimera into the nose. This should have distracted the beast, as he presumed, for the nose was a sensitive area. But instead of going dizzy, the abomination went berserk, roaring and sweeping his paws all around.
Nick narrowly escaped one of the blows by rolling aside, blocking the view of a mare.
"Run! The hay are you waiting for?!" – he yelled behind his shoulder.
"I can’t! I’ve sprained a leg!"
"Блядство!" – Hawkri spat out. The whole situation looked like there was no other option rather than killing that thing or either making it flee. But the latter was not considered – so much desire to kill and determination was in the eyes of this beast.
"Говна наверни, кисуля! Сегодня обеда не будет!" – Hawkri stood up straight, flipping the bird to the chimera and complimenting the insult with a wide, cheeky grin. The beast mentioned nothing, but the snake hissed sharply, ready to pounce.
And it did.
Hawkri threw his armored arm up to make the snake stuck in the dense leather and to cut it off in one slice – but the target was not him. The vicious bite was aimed into the mare, who just cried out in pain and went unconscious.
This was the last drop. Hawkri felt his blood boil, and his vision blur. This was it. He just went berserk.
With an unintelligible war cry, that was more like a bear’s roar, he leapt up to the beast and shoved his left, wrapped arm as deep as he could into its maw. The beast began choking and trying to snap off an arm with its dagger-like fangs, but of no avail: Hawkri was stabbing it wildly in the neck, in the eyes, wherever he could just reach. With the left hand Nick was tearing the insides of the beast’s throat, making it claw the soil convulsively and the snake tail pounce erratically all around.
This was a massacre. Blood was flowing in torrents, making the very soil marshy - the blood marsh, they say, and it was true. Tired with the repeating, frantic stabs, Hawkri pulled his arm away from the throat, making the beast vomit its own gore, and jumped up for the last blow.
The landing of heavy trekking boots shattered the beast’s spine and sent it into vicious agony. Squirming in the puddle of its own blood, it was throwing his limbs erratically to the assailant, clawing and tearing him, but the last stab into the neck from Hawkri put an end to this brutal showdown.
All blooded, torn and wounded, he turned to the startled filly:
"Are you okay, little one?"
No answer. The foal just shuddered, tears glistening in her eyes.
Hawkri crouched to feel the pulse of the mare:
"We need to go, now! We need to put your mommy to hospital! You hear me?" – he shook the filly at the shoulder. She relieved from her entranced state and nodded.
"Good! Can you walk? We have simply no time to waste!"
The filly nodded again.
"Let’s get going then!" – Nick put the wounded mare to his shoulders and dashed back to where Ponyville was. He knew that the smell of blood would attract more predators, and he was in no position to fight every single creep in here. He had a pony in need, and a filly to take care of.
So, dashing towards the lights of the hospital, he was trickling blood – his own and the mare’s, with a tiny unicorn filly galloping by his side.
Forcing the door open with his boot, he bellowed out to the nurse on duty:
"She needs medical attention! Now!"
The nurse seemed just startled with the view – and she had the right to be such. Imagine a six feet two inches brute, who just barges in, all blooded, trickling blood and carrying a mare over his shoulder! I’d have shit bricks.
"Да шевелись ты, овца! Ей помощь нужна!!" – Nick outraged, seeing the nurse’s reaction. This helped, as she dashed to him, bringing a carrier:
"I will call the doctor this instant!"
"You better move it, she was attacked by the chimera!"
"Did it bit her?"
"Yes. The snake tail did." – those words were like a hammer blow.
"How long from this time?"
"Quarter of hour, maybe more. I do not recall. Shit, you better put her to the ambulance!! God damnit, am I supposed to teach you?!"
The doctor appeared. With a brief look, he commanded the nurse to get the operation ready. Once he was ready to trot away, he was caught by Hawkri:
"Doc, be honest. Chances?"
"I cannot state anything."
"You better put your best shot into it. The filly must not be left orphan!"
"We are not gods. We will do all we can." – The doctor let loose a heavy sigh.
"Do more, than just that, if need be."
Hours passed. Hawkri’s wounds were tend, covered and binded, and the filly dozed off to sleep at the couch. The dawn was breaking, and Nick had merely poisoned himself with nicotine on the porch, when nurse came out.
"How is…" - the grief on her face said it all.
"We tried all we could. But it was just too late."
"Да ты нахуй, все они попробовали!!! Как могло быть поздно?? А переливание крови?? А… а… Да как?!!" – the very walls trembled in fear of Nick’s rage, as he just slammed his fist into the column. A big chunk of brick flew away, hitting the trash can with a clink.
"Now you go and tell that little filly over there, that her mother has, Gods forgive, passed away!"
"I am so sorry…" - the tears in the nurse’s voice soothed Hawkri’s anger. He just sat onto the porch, lit another cigarette and dragged deep.
"I know. Sorry. I was just…"
"Have you known her?"
"No. I was just walking out when heard a scream and… Found them, and…"
"Have you fought chimeras before?"
"Nay. I was… I just couldn’t do fucking anything…" - Hawkri spat hard, his gaze dull and fixed somewhere else.
"I just… killed that one. But this would not help." – our hero dropped his head to his crossed hands and sobbed spasmodically.
"I did not managed to save her." – he stated soberly, between the quiet sobs.
"Easy, easy…" - the crying nurse tried to comfort him, but of no avail.
"Okay. Screw it." – man stood up, wiped the tears off his face and strode inside.
The filly was sound asleep, and Hawkri stood, admiring the view. She was so innocent and young. The feeling long lost to the man, despite his quite early ages – just two months ago he turned twenty-two. But his youth was long ago.
"Hey there, little one…" - he crouched near the sleeping filly.
"Where’s my mommy?" – she demanded sleepily.
"Mommy is…"
"…dead?" – tears began to well up in her eyes.
Hawkri found no strength to say and just nodded his head in approval.
"Mommy! Mommy!!" – cried out the tiny unicorn, throwing herself onto Hawkri. He embraced the child, trying to comfort her, but of no avail. He was just a stranger, who never managed to protect her mother.
Days passed and funeral was held. Green Fields was her name, and she was a mare of great beauty and smarts, as they said above the grave. Tiny Sunrise Glitter, the filly, was standing there in some sort of trance, her eyes flushed red, and Hawkri was there with her.
After the funeral they went for dinner, and Hawkri asked the filly:
"Hey… Mind if I ask?"
She just nodded, absentmindedly.
"Do you have a father or any other relatives who could pick you to stay?"
She waved her head in denial, the same absent way as before.
"Then, I guess, they would put you to the orphanage?"
No answer. Hawkri grabbed his head with both hands, ruffling himself in a deep thought. He was responsible for this. He was the one who tried to save them – and succeeded only partly.
The loud slam on the table startled the little Glitter, who stared in shock at Nick, who just pummeled the table with his fist.
"Listen there, little one. I know that what I am going to say would seem terrible, but I simply cannot see the other way out. I will become your guardian. I will not let you become an orphan. And I will not let anything happen to you. For the sake of your mother – Gods keep her soul – I, Nick Hawkri, from now on promise I will be your protector!"
Sunset Glitter sat with the confused look on her face. She was bemused to hear that from a complete stranger – even if he risked his own life for her mother and her. That was brave and noble – but stupid.
"Take your time, Little Glitter."
Without saying a word, the filly embraced Hawkri and cried into his shoulder.
"I take that as ‘yes’."
Week passed since the funeral, and the formalities were being processed. Standing at the city hall with little Glitter beside him, Hawkri was arguing with the secretary mare:
"I say I do not consider orphanage as an option, miss…"
"Amethyst. Amethyst Star."
"Great, miss Amethyst. I am to carry full responsibility of this here filly, and I am done with that!"
"But there is no such legal procedure that could possibly allow humans, who are, basically, of another, alien species to raise a pony foal!" – Amethyst Star scanned through the bunch of paper at her desk and shrugged tiredly.
"Listen, miss. I understand that. I sure do. But that was because of me! You know…"
"I know the story of what you have done back at the Everfree forest, and I grief for miss Green Fields. But it is just not enough to adopt a foal! We do not even know your name!"
"Nick Hawkri."
"Er, yes, sir, but…"
"Just state what I should do. I will get my custody over this little filly. One way or another."
Amethyst sighed in defeat. She could not help but smile to the determination of this human. She saw how the filly trusted him. And she just gave it up.
"Alright, sir Hawkri. Just you drop by in a week, I will sort it out." – she winked to the Sunrise, who beamed this instant.
"Thank you really much, miss Star. You have truly relieved me." – Hawkri bowed to kiss her hoof.
"This here is for you." – our hero produced a bouquet from seemingly nowhere.
"Thank you!"
"Much obliged. See you in a week." – he smiled to Sunrise and took off, with a foal trotting by his side.
"He might have been a great father." – a blue and white unicorn with hourglass cutie mark stated out, coming closer.
"Romena, take it easy. We’ll see." – Amethyst was smiling gleefully, beholding the way Hawkri was looking at the little filly and how he just scooped her into his arms and gave her a warm embrace before coming away.
"He will. He will try."
Chapter 2. First Complications
Morning met Nick Hawkri with the warm rays all around his face. He frowned slightly, rolling off the bed and scurrying around for his glasses. As soon as the world put on a slight greenish and dimmed hue, he yawned and proceeded downstairs to prepare a breakfast. This was going to be a long day for him and the little Glitter as well – today was the very day that he had to complete with the formal issues of custody, and also he had to do much more.
Else to say, his spare of money ran low, and he felt nothing like pickpocket anymore. Well, for the first few weeks he did it shameless, and the amount of money he accumulated was more than enough for a carefree life. But now things changed drastically, so, he needed a job. And he sure knew where he could get one.
The oatmeal began bubbling, drawing his attention, and the coffee began boiling as well, and Hawkri felt a sudden stab of a remorse for not having an additional pair of hands or a unicorn’s telekinesis. Alas, he had to deal with it.
The soft clip-clopping of hooves dragged his attention, and he turned his head to see the sleepy filly descending down the stairs, yawning:
“Good morning, mister Hawkri…”
“It’s Nick, Sunny. How much times should I repeat that?” – he scolded softly, smiling to the filly.
“Breakfast is almost done, go brush your teeth and come by”.
“Okay… Nick.” – the filly trotted away, and Hawkri just stood there, smiling gleefully to the warm sensation inside his chest, that had awoken after the small filly’s remark.
“I can grow used to that…” – he chuckled to himself, dicing some apples and adding them to the oatmeal with a helping of cinnamon – just like Glitter liked it. He finished preparations with his coffee and made some tea for a filly, who appeared at the threshold, refreshed and smiling.
“Breakfast is served, milady! Pray, honor us with your visit!” - Hawkri bowed gently, mimicking the butler. Sunrise giggled, climbing up the chair and tasting a spoonful of oatmeal.
“Mmmm! This is great, just like…” – her voice stopped short, and her eyes began to water. Hawkri knew very well, what she had in mind.
It was about her passed away mother. The wound was still so fresh, and the filly was yet so young.
“So, Sunny, I guess that you’re not learning at school yet, are you?” – Nick tried to change the topic, staring intently at the filly.
“No, I am not. I was at the preschool!” – she answered, distracted, eating her serving.
“Crisis coped with. Smooth as always.” – our hero mentally scolded himself. He is supposed to be more careful when arising such a sensitive matters. Hawkri, you’re such a halfwit.
“Well then, my little pony, today we are having kind of a big day. Today we are again visiting miss Amethyst Star – remember her? And then I’ll speak to miss Cheerilee, the teacher – you know her?”
Sunrise Glitter waved her head in denial, eating spoonful after spoonful of her meal.
“Anyway, we’re going to get you to school! You’ll be a schoolfilly, and this means, you sure will find new friends…”
“Nick, you were serious when speaking you won’t let me alone?” – such a point-blank question made Hawkri slightly off the track. He sipped on his coffee to gather his thoughts.
“Absolutely. What I said was from my very soul, my little pony. I will not leave you alone.” – saying so, Nick patted his chest to indicate the sincerity of his intentions.
“Listen to me, Sunny. I know I am no match to your mother. I know I am not even your friend – but I will do anything it takes to make you happy the way you deserve it.” – Nick lifted the filly’s head with his fingers on her chin and saw the tears welling up in her eyes. He tried to smile and comfort her, but of no avail – the bitter frown came nowhere.
“You’re not my father!” – Sunrise cried out.
“Am not, you are right. But I will keep trying the best I can. And even more.” – her words sting hard, and Hawkri sighed heavily. He really was just a stranger – who now was just watching for her, living in her house, basically he was just filling the empty space in this house. Nothing more.
So he crouched near the crying filly and lifted her in his hands, enveloping her into the warm embrace, softly patting her back and rocking her back and forth, whispering quietly in her ear an ancient spell that helped relief the grief.
This helped. The quiet sobs were slightly dying down, and then little unicorn returned the embrace.
“Be my daddy?” – she asked.
Hawkri’s heart melted.
Before the noon they were already standing at the city hall – Hawkri, who put on his finest clothes, which he patched up together with Rarity – her materials, his handwork, and Sunrise Glitter – mane combed and braided, looking great. They entered the round hall and stepped up to the counter where Amethyst Star was presumed to be.
“Miss Amethyst?” – addressed Hawkri, looking to the back of the chair.
Chair turned round, revealing the blue and white unicorn, smiling to the visitors.
“Greetings, my name is Romena, and I am substitute for Amethyst. Poor dear got ill.”
“Oh. Give her my best wishes. What about the documents of custody I’ve applied for?” Hawkri inquired.
“Yes, about those… I am afraid we cannot answer you now… It seems like a really specific cause, so you’ll have to go to Canterlot and just speak to the Committee of Family Affairs upon this one…” – Romena smiled sheepishly, handing Nick a small envelope.
He tore the upper part and read the contents:
“Dear Mr. Hawkri,
We are obliged to state that your application of obtaining custody over the foal is rejected until further investigation. We fear that there are no precedents on the fact of human-pony custody or adoption.
We kindly ask you to come by to the conference of the Committee of Family Affairs in Canterlot to sort this out.
With respect and best wishes,
Chairman of Committee,
Brass Quill.”
“Okay, Miss Romena, I get it. Looks like I will have to get there soon enough to sort this out quick, right?”
“Yes, in fact. The best option would be to get there in a week, or otherwise little Sunrise would be considered an orphan officially.” – Romena sighed.
“There’s no way I will allow this. Well, thank you kindly, Miss Romena. This one is for you. “ – Hawkri put the box of bonbons on the table, bowed graciously and left, followed by the filly, who smiled and squeaked “Goodbye, miss Romena!”.
“He’ll be a good father. Now I can say it.” – Romena nearly jumped with shock, hearing the voice behind her. But that was just a Mayor Mare, who smiled and swayed her head.
“May I?” – she took one bonbon from the box and went back to her study, leaving startled Romena behind.
“Alright, Sunny, we’ll do this: now I’ll just leave you for a bit at the library with miss Twilight, okay? She’s a great pony, I think you’ll get on just great, while I’ll go find miss Cheerilee, fine?” – Hawkri explained, while they were walking down the streets from the city hall.
“Sure! I love reading!” – filly nearly jumped with joy and rushed forward to the library, leaving chuckling Nick behind.
“That’s great.” – he sighed out, lighting a cigarette.
“Hey – anyone home?” – answering his demand, a lavender mare’s head, sporting a neat horn, popped from the adjacent room.
“Hawkri! Is that you whom I see?” – Twilight demanded strictly, narrowing her eyes a bit.
“Well, back this morning it was still me.” – our hero chuckled, running a hand through his outgrown bristle. He could certainly use a shave.
“Well, Twilight, this is Sunrise Glitter. Sunny, this is miss Twilight Sparkle.”
“Hello miss Twilight!” – the filly cheered.
“Hello, my little pony! You sure are adorable!” – the librarian cooed, nuzzling the filly.
“Twilight, it’s kind of a long story…”
“I know, Nick. Don’t trouble yourself retelling. What do you need?”
“Basically, I’ll go talk to Cheerilee about Sunny’s enrollment to school. Could you, well, babysit her a bit?” – Hawkri smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and raising his glasses to let Twilight see his eyes.
“She loves reading, by the way, so I suppose, you will have something to discuss, eh?” – he quickly added.
“Really?!” – Twilight was overjoyed with the news, and turned to Sunrise for approval.
“Yup! I sure love reading!” – she nodded with a smile.
“Why that’s marvelous! Let’s go, then!” – Twilight clapped her front hooves together in pure glee, and led the filly into the library.
“I’ll drop by when everything is sorted out!” – Nick called out, without some special expectations about the answer.
Nothing followed, and our hero went out of the library, smiling.
A short walk brought him to the building of local schoolhouse, that was quiet due to the studies time – the lunch have passed in a while, and Hawkri just sat on the bench, lighting a cigarette.
Time passed, and once already three cigarette butts were sitting quietly in the trash can, the bell rang out and the torrent of foals spilt away from the schoolhouse, separating behind the school gate into smaller groups. Hawkri couldn’t help himself but smile: those foals looked so carefree.
“Замечательное время – детство.” – He sighed to himself, standing up from the bench and proceeding to the schoolhouse, seeking for a special mare.
“Miss Cheerilee?” – Nick knocked at the door, seeing the mare in question sitting at the desk, doing her paperwork.
“My-my, if it isn’t the swear-lover!” – she teased, smiling at Hawkri.
“What can I help you?”
“Miss Cheerilee, I’ve a special affair. You see… “
“Is it about the Green Field’s daughter, Sunny?” – the teacher mare interjected.
“Well, yes. I’d like to ask you if there is a possibility to get her to school?” – Hawkri sighed heavily, sitting at the desk and fiddling with his fingers.
“Sure, there is, but we will need some documents for that!” – Cheerilee pursed her lips in thought, furrowing her brows a bit.
“She looks adorable. Well, adorkable.” – chuckled Hawkri to himself.
“Well, basically, we’ll need her birth certificate, the testament of being in custody… Is she already in custody?”
“That’s the very point. I’ll have to go to Canterlot and sort it out in there, and I shall do it in a week, or Sunny will officially be claimed an orphan!” – Hawkri never noticed, how his fists clenched until they were white.
“I see… Well, I can enroll her to a preschool for a while, individually, while you’ll get your issues sorted out?” – Cheerilee shrugged, bepuzzled.
“That’s the only option, I’m afraid.”
“That would be great, miss Cheerilee! I just need to know Sunny is being watched until I am spinning around. I am in your debt. Really.” – Nick beamed and hugged the teacher pony. She returned the favor.
“It’ll be a pleasure to help you. Really.”
When he finished the school issues, there were only two things left on the agenda: job and a babysitter.
Well, the first was easy to come by – Applejack was asking him if he was okay with some season working, so he should have just told her of his consent. Whereas with the baby, or, rather, a foalsitter…
The familiar door beaconed in front of Hawkri, who inhaled deep, threw away the cigarette and knocked three times.
“Fluttershy, Hawkri here!”
The door opened wide, and a yellow Pegasus greeted the guest warmly.
“Flutters, I would ask you for a great favor…” - began Hawkri, sitting at the comfortable sofa with a mug of herbal tea.
The whole story did not took long to be told, and, once our hero went silent, Fluttershy sat, immersed in deep thought.
“If you’re okay with that, I mean!”- Nick hurried to assure her.
“Sure.” – Fluttershy beamed at him so brightly, that Hawkri felt a large weight drop from his very soul.
He could turn to the most important part – the formal visit to Canterlot. And that was just what he considered doing first.
“Train to Canterlot departing in five minutes! Everypony on board!” – the raspy voice of a conductor ripped through the chilly air, as Hawkri stood on the platform, giving last instructions to Glitter:
“Behave yourself, my little Sunny, and obey Miss Fluttershy. Will you?”
He was rewarded with the approving nod from the filly, and his heart melted again when she embraced him and whispered:
“Come back soon, daddy.”
“I will, my little Sunshine.” – he managed to hide a single manly tear shed.
“Flutters, I owe you one!” – our hero cried out, jumping into the carriage.
“It’s okay! She’s lovely!” – the filly and the mare both waved Nick goodbye, as train swayed its way towards the capital city of Canterlot.
Hawkri sat next to the window and relaxed. He had all the documents, and he was pretty much determined to come back with a victory.
«Со щитом, а не на щите…» - was the last he muttered before dozing off.
Chapter 3: Coffee And Crazy Mares
The way to Canterlot, oh so familiar now, was this time simply insufferable. It looked like the time itself turned into the chewing gum, stuck to one’s shoe – it just stretched to the verge of simply unbelievable length.
“I’d be damned!” – swore Nick under his breath, beholding the landscape of Appleloosa gently flowing away behind the window.
“Shit takes just too much time.” – he went to the tambour and lit a cigarette, wincing slightly at the stabbing pain in his torn shoulder, that awoke and gnawed at him when he had to grab the handle in the wall not to fly face-first to the carriage floor, when the train jerked hard.
“Ну теперь, блядь, что стряслось?” – puffing clouds of smoke, he addressed the conductor.
“I cannot understand you, sir.” – he replied with dignity, ignoring the fact that Hawkri was smoking.
“Sure. What the hay was all that about – I mean, the jerk and all…”
“It is nothing unusual, sir – the railway junction here is old and worn, and so every time we pass it, the train acts… cranky.” – the aging stallion chuckled, ruffling up a bit his sideburns. – “That’s why we call it Old Cranky.”
“Er, thanks for the information, sir. When is the due time of arrival to Canterlot?”
“In five hours flat, sir. Are you okay?” – the conductor asked, concern in his voice, as he saw our hero frown involuntarily again.
“Sure, I’m all peachy here. Thank you, sir.” – Hawkri threw the cigarette butt away from the window, smiled to conductor and made his way back to his place.
It was not all peachy. The stitches in his arm and chest felt like there were thousands of needles pricked into them, and those needles were also white-hot. Stars began to fly in his sight, and Hawkri suppressed a groan, scratching his collar-bone area, trying to rub the pain away.
It helped, generally, accompanied by the Second Spell of Odhinn, that brought remedy to his pain, but the arm felt numb and useless, hanging like a whip.
“Guess this means I’ll have to wait” – sighed Nick, making himself comfortable on his seat and closing his eyes. “Better come over it quick.”
Morning in Canterlot was rather freezing and humid, which made Hawkri regret of never thinking about something warmer than some leather coat – even a hand-stitched one. His shoulder gripped at the chance to nag at him once again and ached like there was no tomorrow, making our hero groan openly.
“Сука, да успокойся же ты!” – he hissed out, making a beeline to what looked like restrooms and barging into the door with the sign “Stallions” on it.
Bending slightly above the sink, he threw off the coat and tugged at his T-shirt collar, observing the mess of what his body was.
This truly was a sight to behold – three deep, long, vicious ruts, running down from the left shoulder across the torso down to the very belly button. The edges of the wound were held together with the expert stitches of a qualified medic, but the view still was pretty repulsive. The reddish, feverous tint never came over, it just turned sickening blue-grayish at the edges. And it ached like Hell.
“Бляяяяаааааааааааааа~” – our hero drawled out, as if swears could bring relief. He palpated the ruts, wincing at his own touch. It stung pretty badly, as it should have – if you are nearly sliced in three parts with some chimera asshole. The most interesting part around was that Nick was still alive. But ask him now – and he’ll just shrug it off with a smile.
However, his wounds were clean, and he found that out. Good enough for him – no pus, no fester, less problems to tend. Good.
Pulling his garb on again and buttoning it all the way up – not to take any chances – Hawkri made his way further, to 24-hour café. His stomach now felt like a black hole, and he was in no state to deal with that.
“Anyone here?” – the answer to his inquiry was almost immediate, as a unicorn mare emerged behind the counter in no time.
“What can Ah eva do fer ya, sir?” – her accent was slightly harsh, Southern one – and that was nice.
“Er, I’d like something to eat, basically. Some human food, if you have something alike.”
“Juz flip through da menu, sir. We have da finest choice in all of da Cant’rlot, ya know!” – so much pride behind the simple fact. Okay.
Flipping through the tired and worn menu, Hawkri made up his mind for a mug of Americano coffee and a generous helping of cheese. Hell, he wouldn’t even care for a bread – just cheese, damn it!
“Sorry, lady…”
“It’s Roller, sir, High Roller” – the mare answered, obviously catching Hawkri’s drift.
“Eh, sure, miss High – can I smoke in here? I just can’t see the ashtray.”
“Why sure, sugercube – there ya’ll goin’!” – a simple ceramic ashtray was levitated to the table, wrapped in the greenish glow of High’s magic. Hawkri thankfully smiled at the mare and produced a cigarette, dragging deep and washing the smoke down with coffee.
“An’ ah juz wonderin’, what brought ya ta Cant’rlot? Ah mean, we hafn’t seen ya ‘umies round lately?” – High Roller took a seat, curiosity written bold on her muzzle.
“Just a… family issues.” – our hero muttered, slicing a generous amount of cheese and chewing it thoroughly before taking another gulp of coffee.
“Holy horseshoes, Ah neva heard of that ones like y’all havin’ a family back here’n’there! By tha way, where are y’all going from?”
“Ponyville.”
“My, one far away ride, sure as sugar! Ah mahself is from Appleloosa, ya’know…” – Hawkri was already growing tired with such a hyperactive mare. The next thing, I bet, she’ll wanna know my name, he mused to himself, pressing the cigarette butt in the ashtray.
“Anyways, Ah beg ya pard’n, sweetpie, Ah neva asked ya name.” – High Roller smiled with a doe eyes.
Hawkri sighed. “It’s Hawkri.”
“Whoa! That’s a mighty rad name, pardner!” – mare seemed overjoyed. Or was she just hopping on the bean, like Pinkie Pie, that pink crazy menace? Nah. Screw it.
“Twas great to have a chat and thanks for a coffee, but I must hit the road. See you around.” – Hawkri put a generous stack of bits onto the counter, which was his charge and tip included, pulled his coat up a bit and left the hospitable café with slightly crazed host.
What he understood next is that he never knew which way was the one he needed.
And the pain was getting all worse, strummed with the cold and humidity.
“Все говнистее и говнистее…” – Nick muttered under his breath, as he stammered his way to the nearest corner, folding in two and desperately trying to stop the ground from spinning all around like a crazy merry-go-round. Well, in fact, he was kind of multitasking, trying to keep his breakfast inside, light a cigarette with trembling fingers and not to go crazy with this shitload of pain he was exposed to.
“Gyah… Awwww, goddamn this! Fucking fuckitty fucker’s fuckness!!!” – he bellowed on top of his lungs, trying to just eject the pain with this roar.
Result was… pretty predictable. Some accidentally passing by ponies looked at him strange, a couple of them circled their hooves around the temple with an eye roll, and some just huffed and ignored, bringing their noses high. Yeah, that was the Canterlot – a hometown for some snobby sonsofamares.
When the pain decided to take a little break and the fever was subsiding slightly, Hawkri raised from his sitting posture and strode a few unsure steps forward, teeth gritting.
“Hey! Hey mister! You okay?” – Hawkri ignored the question, however; grasping involuntarily on his shoulder, he just strolled forth, seeing nothing. Bloody chimera must have had her claws unclean quite a while.
“Hey! I am talking to you!” – something gray with a hint of blonde appeared in his sights, and his ears detected the soft ruffle of folding wings.
“Be advised…” – he began stammering something out, but his knees decided to play ass on him, and he nearly fell, but was caught by something soft and furry.
“Hawkri! You hear me??” – came a concerned inquiry from a very familiar mare. Blonde mane, golden eyes, cross-eyed… Ditzy.
“Heya~… :3” – was all our hero could possibly muster.
A great bitch slap made him regain his composure a bit.
“Focus!” – Ditzy scolded angrily. That was totally not like her, but hey, when concerned, we’ll do anything, won’t we?
“Okay. Wow…”- Nick stood straight, rubbing his check. “That’s a punch, Ditz. How are you here?”
“Mail service. And you? You look terrible.” – Ditzy Doo, commonly known as Derpy Hooves, looked into Nick’s eyes square. Well, considering that her left eye was staring right up – looked creepy.
“Er, was just looking for a Committee of Family Affairs. Going to sort out all that shit with adoption or custody, whatever it is. I will not let Glitter down.” – Hawkri winced with pain, awoken once again.
“Hey, Ditz – is there any pharmacy around? I feel like shit, could use some drugs.”
“Well, you do. Yes, I’ll just lead you there!” – bubbled Derpy, unfolding her wings and taking flight.
Yes, that’s just Derpy.
The small pharmacy was really a quiet place. Flower Lawn, the provisor, was bored, so he was just basically solving some crossword puzzle that he had found under the counter.
“Ungh, it’s Star Dust again. She’s always leaving them there half-solved! What kind of mare she is?” – well, the scold came half-hearted. He appreciated everything that reckless Pegasus did for him, an ordinary Earth pony stallion, and he felt that he had grown to love her. Nevertheless, he just proceeded.
And right when he was guessing the last word, the doorbell rang and the strangest couple he’d ever seen strolled in. Derpy the mailmare and some bruising human, sporting a manticore jacket. Well, I’ll be.
“Good day, chef. I need painkillers. The strongest you’ve got.” – human leapt straight into action.
“Okay! What kind of pain you suffer?” – Flower Lawn asked professionally matter-of-factly, though never expecting the possible answer.
“This one.” – Hawkri had already raised his T-shirt to show the remnants of the attack. Flower Lawn was startled with what he had seen.
“Not as bad as they look, really, but the weather is killing me. I need painkillers to ease the pain, that’s all.” – Nick explained, smiling.
Without a single word, a stallion produced a pack of strong remedy and hoofed it over to Nick.
“How much?”
“On me.”- was all Flower could muster. He was so confused with the view.
“Stop that. Okay…” – Hawkri flipped the package in his hands, examining it. “This says fifty-three bits?” – without further tomfoolery, he produced a pouch, shook it, listened to the satisfying clang and put it to the counter.
“Good luck, Flowers!” – Derpy cheered, waving the provisor goodbye.
“yup.”
“I’ll be that shit is strong!” – Hawkri built a complicated frown, that made Derpy laugh as a crazy one.
“You look so silly!”
“Well, I’d look at your face when you’d have some of this.” – our hero grumbled, smile building on his face.
“Okay! Now, I shall go to these stronghold of snobbery and bureaucracy, shan’t I?” – Derpy nodded her approval, her ears drooping down.
“Okay. I’ll find my way. Thanks for yer help, Ditz. Muffins on me, eh?” – Hawkri hugged the gray mare, waving her goodbye as she decided to keep on with her route.
“Fine.” – our hero sighed out, standing before the pompous building.
“Бля, что дома, что тут – бюрократы шикуют.” – Nick chuckled darkly to his observation and strolled up the marble stairs.
The opulent interior was pretty standard – marble, gold, all kinds of flourishness around and, of course, the beefy security, with square jaws and dull eyes.
“Mah fuckin gog!” – our hero chuckled to himself.
“This one is really outstanding piece of architecture!”
The last phrase was quite loud, and it was done intently. Attracting some guard’s attention was a necessity right now, as our hero felt an urge to respond to some pretty natural needs.
“Sir, sir! I certainly need some help here!” – Hawkri began hopping on one leg like a moron, mimicking the necessity to pay a visit to the bathroom. One of the security stallions frowned, but trotted up to the goofing around Nick:
“What was that, sir?”
“I beg yer pard’n fer bugging ya, Officer, but Ah seriously need ta visit the dump.” - replied our hero, putting on a makeshift Southern accent. Just for fun.
“Urgh… If you mean the restroom, it’s right that way – the furry hoof pointed the direction, and stallion turned to leave and avoid any further interactions with the strange bipedal moron, but Hawkri clutched him in his iron grip:
“Fair sir, Ah am mighty sorry fer buggin’ ya again, but could ya just lead me there? Ah’m not used ta all those big cities o’ yers…”
With a sigh and roll of his eyes stallion led the way, leaving behind the cackling partner and the grinning Hawkri, showing another guard a thumbs up behind the back of the first one. This all looked much like a silly, a really shitty one comedy, but no one mentioned – everybody was just too busy not giving a fuck.
“Bureaucracy is magic, they say…” – our hero mused to himself, slightly smiling at the idea.
The frowning guard led him to the opulently decorated door with a small sign, hanging slightly out from the wall; the sign was displaying the Mars symbol – a circle with protruding arrow, the shield and the spear.
“What you demand is here, sir…” – murmured the stallion, slightly shuffling his hooves as if he also needed the visit to the mentioned quarters.
“Why mighty thanks ye, fair sir! Y’all’ve juz rescued mah bladder frum burstin’ all around!” – this statement was met… loudly. The second guard simply boomed with laughter, laughing his arse off and flailing his hooves all around, while the escorting one turned as red as a beetroot and quickly retreated to his post.
“Аааатличная шутка, парень…” – Nick murmured to himself, slipping inside.
The meeting was to be held in the next two hours, and our hero had to find something to make himself busy for the time being. He landed his butt at the small armchair near the door to the meeting hall and grabbed a magazine from the nearest table. But his mind was far from reading.
“How is Glitter in there? Is she okay? Well, hope so. But still, I’ll have to get home. Twilight said, thirty moons should pass and then for three days I’ll have to get back to the lawn. Thirty moons… Two and a half years? Hm. And now I am already here for three months. Means, three moons. Damn. But still, how would I leave Glitter? Now she’s ‘bout five, maybe six years, not more. Say… Eight years when I go away? And what then? Orphanage? Fuck you, orphanage, no…” – such complicated thoughts were interrupted by the gentle cough. Hawkri lift his head to see the nice young mare, her gray, mousy mane tied up in bun. Well, she looked a lot like secretary.
“Beg pardon, sir – are you awaiting admission?”
“Er, kind of. I am waiting for the meeting of the Commission of Family Affairs to start.” – our hero replied, slightly confused with the question.
“Aw, okay… Can I have your name, please?” – the mare levitated a small clipboard and began magically shuffling through the papers.
“Nick Hawkri.”
“Yes, there it is – the request of custody over Sunrise Glitter? The meeting will begin in an hour, you would be invited. Cup of tea, maybe, coffee?”
“I’d love that, miss…”
“Backy. Just Backy.” – the mare smiled and turned back to her counter.
“Thanks, miss Backy.” – Nick sat back and patted his pockets. All his possessions were at place – the pack of cigarettes, a lighter, some money and a knife, sheathed and secured on the waist belt behind his back.
“Hope I won’t ever come to unsheathe that…” – grimly chuckled the man.
“Your coffee, please.” – Backy appeared as silent as a ghost, starting Nick.
“Thanks, beauty. By the way, Backy – is that a name like ‘Back Stab’?” – humored Nick, grinning ever so slightly.
The reaction was… pretty unpredictable. The mare smiled nervously, tugging on her collar, and a small bead of sweat slid down her neck.
“Hehehe…” – she giggled nervously and, sure as sugar, fake. “Noooo~”
“Anyway, thanks for a coffee. Much appreciate it.” – Hawkri smiled his own toothy scary grin, accepting the small cardboard glass of coffee. It was sweet and potent, and required some nicotine with that.
So, sitting on the rich marble porch and littering it with ashes mercilessly, Hawkri spat down to the pavement, hard.
“Завязывать надо с этим говном.” – sighed our hero, meaning his unhealthy addiction to smoking and washing down the bitterness of tobacco with a generous sip of coffee.
Cold marbles began to freeze his butt, and he quickly rose to his feet to prevent freezing off some of pretty important male assets. Downing the rest of coffee and finishing a cigarette, he tossed both into the trash can and rushed inside the building.
In half an hour he was called to the meeting, so he grabbed his bag, checked the folder with little Glitter’s documents, sighed, crossed himself and entered.
What he had seen confused him a bit. He was prepared to see the opulent, rich interior, but the sight before him was stunning, because it was opposite to his conceptions. It was humble, lest to say.
Up on the small podium was a king-sized table, where the Committee – five ponies, three stallions, two mares – sat, all sporting a ties and some kind of fancy flat caps with a polished badges on them. At the center, the middle-aged mare with a coat color of a coffee with cream and brown mane sat, smiling to the visitor.
“Good day, Mr. Hawkri. We’ve expected your visit. My name is Brass Quill, and I am the Chairman of the Committee of Family Affairs here, in Canterlot. This is the Secretary of Committee, miss Lily Springblossom…” – the Chairman mare waved her hoof to the younger mare, sitting to the left of her. – “And this is the Honourable Storm Wave, legal expert in custody and guardianship.” - the aging stallion with a missing eye bowed slightly.
Hawkri returned the bow, cleared his throat and began speaking, trying not to mention the pain, which have traitorously escaped the blockade:
“Venerable Commission, miss Quill – as you already know, I want to apply guardianship over the Sunrise Glitter, daughter of deceased Green Field, and I am here to sort out any complications that may occur of have occurred.”
“Beg your pardon, sir, but the legal system of family law of Equestria had never known any precedent of human-pony adoption or guardianship! How are we supposed to sort this out?” - Honorable Storm Wave inclined, curiosity written on his muzzle.
“The other thing is that little miss Glitter has no other relatives, who could be legally obliged to raise her.” – Another stallion, a younger one, chimed in, flipping through the stack of papers.
“And most importantly, at which basis do you want to claim guardianship?” – the Chairman inquired.
Hawkri let out another deep sigh. Then he just took off his shirt and demonstrated the stitches to the Committee.
“Those, venerable Committee, are the remnants of the chimera attack, which have killed Green Field – Gods keep her soul – and which jeopardized the very life of little Sunrise. I do not know the laws of Equestria, but according to the laws of my motherland, any orphan should be proceeded to the relatives, if any exist, and otherwise be put to orphanage. I suppose the same is applicable to our situation. But for me an orphaning is not an option. I’ve promised this little filly I won’t let her down. Maybe I’ve never managed to save her mother. Is true, and this burden would stay with me, but I will not let her off.”
“Sir Hawkri, we understand the responsibility you feel for the destiny of this foal, and we sure are thrilled to see such a deed you’ve demonstrated, but the fact remains – you are of an alien species. You are from another world. And how do you suppose to raise the filly?”
“The same way as if she had been my own daughter.”
“Do you have the documents?”
“Yes.” – Nick handed the folder to the secretary, and stood waiting. The Committee shared the papers, discussed something for a brief minute and then Brass Quill spoke again:
“Well, from what we had found out, little Sunrise Glitter is now in Ponyville. Right?”
“Sure, Ponyville is her home.”
“She has a place to live?”
“She does.”
“And you?”
“I live with her. For the time being.”
“For the time being?”
“I have to return to my homeworld in twenty-seven months.”
“Then how do you suppose to raise the foal? Our legislation provides that guardianship will be held over the foal until it reaches maturity, which is at the age of twenty-one!”
“I will think of it. What I ask, no, what I beg for – is to allow me apply a guardianship.”
“Okay, let’s get to other things. Do you have a steady income, enough for necessities?”
“I do. I work at Ponyville Hospital and part-time at the forge.” – that was not all lies, as Nick truly had been working part-time at the forge.
“Alright. Can you provide a foal with education, medical license and insurance?”
“I did with the education – she is enrolled to the Ponyville Elementary and now her insurance is being processed.”
“Well, and the last one. We will require the most earnest answer. Are you a paraphiliac?”
“No.”
“Maniac?”
“No.”
“A pedophile?”
“No.”
“Any addictions?”
“Tobacco only. No drugs.”
“You’ve killed chimera barehanded?”
“No, I was armed with a small blade.”
“Are you sure you are ready for such a responsibility – to raise a foal?”
“I am.”
“The Committee requires to leave for a consultation. Please, leave the room, you will be invited.”
Hawkri bowed and left. The pain was growing stronger by the minute.
“Backy.” – the secretary mare nearly jumped, startled with our hero’s stealthy approach.
“Sweet Celestia! I nearly died!” – she scolded, shaking off her fear.
“Beg pardon. Can I have a glass of water, please?”
After having the demanded liquid, Nick took two pills of painkiller and winced with the bitter, tangy taste of medicine. The pain never wished to subside. It gnawed.
After ten minutes Lily appeared in the corridor:
“Mr. Hawkri – please, follow me.”
The Committee all seemed troubled. Hawkri’s gut began denouncing the shitty news. Well, the last was to hope his guts were shitty prophet.
“Mister Hawkri, the Committee of Family Affairs of Canterlot of Equestria hereby pronounces, that Sunrise Glitter, daughter of Green Field, is now under the guardianship and custody of Nick Hawkri, human. Stand closer, mister Hawkri, miss Springblossom will hand you the documents of adoption. However, you will now be subject to the revision of the Committee, held each two months. Is it all clear to you?”
“Absolutely clear, venerable Committee, miss Quill. Thank you. All of you.” – Hawkri accepted the folder of documents and smiled. He bowed deeply with his fist pressed to his chest.
“I thank all of you for this.”
“Go, Nick Hawkri, and be a good father to this filly.” – Storm Wave smiled, with warmth in his voice.
Then, sitting in the already well-known café, run by High Roller, Hawkri was sorting through the numerous papers, when he found something special. The small drawing, showing the filly – he understood that was little Glitter, a mare and a man. They were all smiling, standing near, and Nick felt a manly tear, watering his eyes.
That was the reason. They knew it. And he could not let them down.
The return to Ponyville never took long, as he dozed off and woke up only when the train was already passing the area of Sweet Apple Acres.
“Huh? Whazzdat?”
“We are arriving to Ponyville, sir.” – the familiar conductor smiled to Hawkri, slightly poking him in the shoulder to wake the man completely.
“Yeah, thanks, fellow…” – the dizzy Nick grabbed his stuff and fell off the train, right to the platform.
“Курва мать…”
“Listen, Twilight, I have some issues and I do need your help.”
“What’s that, Nick?” – the librarian lifted her head from the book, tilting it slightly in attention.
“I need job, Twilight. I mean, money, of course.”
“Then what’s the problem? You can always go pick some pockets, as you did – shamelessly, by the way!” – the lavender mare sneered.
Hawkri’s fist, pummeled to the table, made a heavy stack of books jump.
“Курва мать его, Twilight! This is serious! With all I can do, with all the skills I possess, trust me, I can sweep clean any bank in Canterlot and get away with that, and you know it. But now it is just another time…” – our hero sighed heavily, sweeping
his fingers around the table.
“I have a…”
“Hmm?”
“I have a daughter to raise. And that’s just it.” – Hawkri breathed out.
A smile graced on the librarian’s muzzle, as Twilight stepped up and hugged Hawkri.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 4: And Thus The Storm Cracked
“You can do it, Sunny – just repeat after me!” – Hawkri sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose; the homework was always a challenge, especially the Maths.
“I just can’t get it! How would you divide five by three?” – filly’s voice trembled with disappointment and anger.
“You cannot. Well, not the whole. This would be the division with a residual. You see?” – Hawkri took a pencil and quickly sketched the algorithm.
“Oh! I see it now! But…” – the joy at the unicorn’s voice shifted to uncertainity. “Miss Cheerilee said we should do this the other way!”
“If Miss Cherilee will ask you, just say that I helped a bit.” – Nick smiled, ruffling the filly’s orange mane a bit.
“Thank you, Nick!” – with redoubled effort, Sunrise Glitter began to scribe the quill at the paper. Hawkri could hear her muttering and smiled, strolling outside with a mug of hot coffee and a cigarette in his teeth.
It was already a winter time in Equestria, and the view of Ponyville wrapped in snow was miraculous. Sipping a hot drink and dragging his first drag, Hawkri couldn’t help but breathe a smoke ring into the crispy, crystal-clear winter air.
“Won’t you catch a cold, standing outside without some coat?” – nurse Tenderheart scolded him with a smile on her lips.
“Weather pegasi put all they had into this weather, it’s quite chilly here! Now mark my words, you catch a cold and I won’t raise a hoof to help you!”
“Copy that, ma’am!” – Hawkri saluted mockingly, grinning. “Are you in a hurry? A cup of tea, maybe?”
“Not now, thank you – I have to get to the hospital now, it’s my shift. But thanks for the invitation, anyway!” – Tenderheart flicked her tail and looked at Hawkri behind her shoulder.
“My god that’s a mare.” – chuckled our hero to himself, sipping more coffee from his mug.
“Doing good here, Sunny?” – he asked, shaking off the snowflakes from his hair and bringing the crispy chill inside.
“Yeah, all good! By the way, Nick – there’s a letter for you!”
“A letter?” – Hawkri repeated, putting an empty mug to the table and a pack of cigarettes to the mirror stand.
“Yeah, it appeared from a puff of green smoke. You know, the sparkling one.” – Sunny waved her hoof in indication and handed Hawkri the scroll.
With her teeth.
“No telekinesis, in such age… I am quite sure this is not pretty natural for unicorns. Better ask Twilight about this one…” – Nick mused to himself, unwrapping the fancy purple ribbon with a seal that the scroll was wrapped in.
"Помяни заразу…” – he sighed out, rolling the scroll back.
“Sunny, I will go to Twilight’s. I won’t be long. Finish your homework and we’ll play chess once I come back.” – checking his pockets, Hawkri saluted to the filly.
“Yay, chess!” – the unicorn cheered without distracting herself from Maths.
“That’s an attitude…” – smiled Nick, closing the door.
“Twilight, you wanted to see me?” – he demanded, wiping his feet at the threshold of library.
“Yes, come inside!” – was the answer. Nick shrugged, put his coat to the hanger and proceeded inside, wiping his nose stealthily. Passing the kitchen, he waved to Spike, who was having a snack with a handful of rubies and topazes. Leaving the dragon to enjoy himself, Hawkri stepped to the room with the fireplace, where Twilight was comforting herself on a sofa.
“Take a sit, please.” – she hospitably waved a hoof at the direction of an armchair. Hawkri never objected.
“As I have mentioned in a letter, there is some special issue I want you to know…” – Twilight nervously fiddled with her hooves. “It is about you and Sunny and…”
“Whoa, whoa, missy – easy! Beginning is the good place to start, you know. Just take it easy.”
“O-okay. Now, that odyssey of yours – the one with adoption – has interested some… well, some rivals of Equestria.”
“What do you mean? That the fact I have adopted a filly has somehow threatened the political balance of yours?”
“Well, almost. It is about the Minotaur-Griffin Hegemony, specifically. Equestria was the last state to acknowledge their status of a full-fledged state. And so that they somehow found out that the adoption of such kind was authorized… They were just outrageous!”
“So, you mean, that the newly created inner – mark that! Inner! – precedent may become a sort of casus belli?”
“Generally, if you’ll omit some details.”
“Shoot.”
“Next is the fact that Sunny… Well, she’s quite a specific filly.”
“Now please, more details.”
“Well…” – Twilight shuffled in her seat and sighed heavily. “When you left me to foalsit her a bit, I asked her to help me with a bit of shelving. And I noticed she cannot levitate!”
“So did I. This is not natural, isn’t it?”
“Quite, usually unicorns of her age do possess at least fundamental magic – I mean levitation, at least! This is like… well, natural to us!”
“Okay, and what is her ‘specification’? Why is she ‘specific’?”
“I cast a diagnostic spell on her – she never noticed that, don’t worry – and found that in spite of her lack of basic skills, she bears a great potential!”
“What kind of?”
“Quite… grim. When scared or when shocked, she can open a… rift. A space-time wormhole. She can go anywhere and at any time she wish. But this is only a potential yet. Has she got a surge yet?”
“None of that I know.”
“Her first surge may be lethal – for those who are around her.” – the grim statement hang above as a cliff.
“Great. Now what should I do?”
“Wait, that’s not the end of it. Somehow the Hegemony found that out, and now they wish to foalnap Sunny to use her forces to invade Equestria at the very beginning of its history!”
“You mean, change the history.”
“Yes.”
The long silence was interrupted only with the sound of crisping crystals, munched by Spike.
“Okay. I guess, we need some… harness for her potential?”
“Kind of. Princess Luna wanted to discuss this with you personally.”
“Wow. I was never yet trusted so much to behold and chit-chat to the royalty.” – Hawkri chuckled, scratching his chin.
“This is nothing funny! The fate of whole nation, neigh, the whole ponykind is in our hooves! And be advised, if they will succeed, the imminent transportation of yours here, in Equestria, will be lethal for you!”
“I see. There would be no Equestria. It would be another timeline, and I will be just dispersed between the many of timelines.”
“Indeed.”
The silence was as heavy as a ten-tons lead weight, hanging above. Nick hummed, drumming his fingers at the table.
“Mind if I smoke?”
“Okay.”
The bluish smoke danced above the two, making fantastic figures in the air.
“I guess we need two things. First, I’ll have to watch for Sunny and prevent anything that will trigger her surge and her… abilities?”
“Yes, and I need you to bring her to me so we could learn the fundamentals of magic. I need to limit her mana flow so that she would not accidentally trigger the shift.”
“Deal.” – Hawkri took one last drag and threw the cigarette butt to the fireplace.
The flame roared in the chimney, and that was the only sound to be heard.
“A-a-a-and – checkmate! I win!” – cheered Sunny, clapping her forehooves in pure joy.
“Indeed, I must say – you are one strong player! Keep up the good work, Grand Master Glitter!” – Hawkri bowed to filly, smiling brightly. But the unsaid words burnt the tip of his tongue.
“Okay, my little chess master, we should now have a supper and then – off to bed. But I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay!” – answered the filly, hopping off the chair and making a beeline to the kitchen.
“Would you help me patch something up for supper?”
“Sure!”
All preparations done, Sunny and Hawkri were sitting at the table, listening to the blizzard and enjoying their meal. Hawkri took a sip of milk from his glass, wiped his moustache and began:
“Er, Sunny, I was talking to Miss Twilight, and she said she’ll… well, tutor you in magic. You see, my little pony, she said that unicorn of your age who does not possess the fundamentals is not very good, and she wants you to come to her each day to teach you.”
“Why so?”
“Well, I do not know much, but I am sure you will do great. You’re a great, determined filly, and I am sure Twilight will be proud of what you will do.”
“Well, I hope she won’t surge too early.” – thought Nick to himself, ruffling the filly’s mane a bit.
“I will do my best, Nick. I promise.” – Sunny smiled, finished her plate and hopped off, kissing Hawkri goodnight and trotting off to the bathroom.
“Она справится. И она, и Твайлайт.” – Hawkri murmured to himself, washing the dishes.
And he certainly hoped so.
“Hey, Diamond Coal.” – our hero greeted the burly stallion in a leather apron, who was holding the pincers with a burning-white piece of iron and a mallet in his telekinetic grip. Sparkles were spraying around with each blow delivered, shaping the raw metal into the form. Done with the shaping, Diamond Coal put the billet to the water barrel. Hissing and cloud of steam cloaked the blacksmith, who inspected the result of his effort and put it away with a satisfied grunt.
“Hey Hawkri. What can Ah do f’r ya?” – he demanded in a deep, guttural voice.
“This.” – Hawkri unfolded the sheet of blueprints and handed it to the smithy.
He inspected it quickly.
“Ya s’pose that Ah will take that?”
“I need you to forge this for me.”
“ ‘kay. But this will cost a little.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred.”
“Damnit, Coal. Two hundred and seventy-five. Don’t be such a greedy.”
“Three hundred.”
“Two hundred eighty, my last price.“
The smithy stallion scratched his chin.
“Okay. Only f’r ya.”
“Thanks mate. When can I get it?”
“Lessee… Two days ‘t least. Come ov’r in three days, all sh’ld be done.”
“Thanks mate. This is priceless.”
The very next day Hawkri met Derpy, or Ditzy Doo, at his own threshold.
“Hey Ditzy, what do I owe the honor?”
“Just thought I’ll drop by and bring you some fresh batch o’muffins I’ve made.” – Derpy bubbled out, smiling. “By the way, where’s little Sunrise?”
“She’s in library with Twilight. Being tutored with all that magic stuff. Unicorns!” – Nick stood back to let the guest in.
“Come inside, Ditz, want something – tea, coffee, maybe?”
“Tea, please.” – Derpy shook the snow off her wings and took off the boots, following Hawrki inside.
While our hero was busy with making tea, Derpy was inspecting the photos on the walls. Most of them were of Sunny and Green Field, her mother. And the last frame was filed with the drawing Sunny put into the folder of documents.
“I knew her.”
“What?” – Hawkri was busy setting the teapot and two mugs on the coffee table.
“I knew Field. She was one great mare – raising a foal without a husband… She strived every day.” – Derpy’s crossed eyes watered.
“Hey, Ditzy – I know that feeling.” – Hawkri pulled the mare closer. “I saw her last moment, remember?”
“I know.” – Ditzy Doo wiped her eyes.
“Tea?”
“Yes, please. Chamomile and thyme, my favorite!” – the grief was forgotten as soon as Derpy sipped on her mug.
“Yeah… Well, Ditz – I shall say something to you.”
“How’s your shoulder?” – Hawkri was surprised with the question.
“How would you know?”
“It’s not a rocket science – I may be cross-eyed, but this was too evident. And yes, your strip-tease session at the pharmacy was a sight for sore eyes.” – giggled the mailmare, taking another sip of tea.
Hawkri blushed.
“Only if you say so. Well, it’s better. I’ve retracted the stitching material, so basically I’m all fine. Though the scars will stay.”
“Those were kind of wicked.”
“Sad but true. Anyway, Ditz – I shall say you something. Promise that no one will ever find out.”
“Cross my heart – hope to fly – stick a cupcake in my eye!” – Derpy mimicked the act of sticking something in her eye. The derped one.
“What was that?”
“Pinkie Promise, of course! Now what was that?..”
“I’ll be damned, that crazy pink candy-cotton ball looks like a local role-model!” – mused our hero to himself, drumming his fingers on the mug.
“Anyway, Twilight told me something about Sunny. Well, her and me…” – Hawkri briefly explained the situation to Derpy, while the latter was listening with a serious face.
Once Nick finished his debriefing and caught his breath, she asked:
“Now I see. I shall say no one, shouldn’t I?”
“Sure. This smells fishy, so I’ll have to make something out. This may also include some serious brawl.”
“Just you watch yourself. Stay safe. Please. Thanks for the tea.” – Derpy rose from her place and trotted away.
On the threshold she turned back and raised a hoof to her forehead.
“Aw, silly me – I forgot the very issue I came. This is for you.” – she reached into her saddlebag and produced a paper bag, emitting the smell of freshly baked pastry.
“Enjoy. And hug little Sunny for me, okay?” – the mailmare giggled, flicking her tail and blowing a forelock away.
“Она что, заигрывает со мной?” – Hawkri was confused with the attitude of Ditzy, which was rather obvious – he flushed like a moron, holding the bag in his both hands and standing there petrified.
“Ah-I will. Thanks for the visit, Ditzy.” – he regained his composure and waved a hand at Pegasus, who smiled and took off.
“Судя по всему, будут проблемы. А мне они не нужны. Абсолютно.” – Hawkri sat at the porch, ignoring the chill and lighting a cigarette. His mind was racing with multiple variants of how the events will develop, and all the varieties were equally shitty.
Too bad.
Two days after the Derpy’s visit Hawkri was standing in front of the forge, inspecting the hanger of it. Sunny was still at school, and he had some time to run his errands. And basically, he was heading to the Quills and Sofas store to resupply the library with parchment and quills, but the forge appeared on his way.
“Hey Diamond – Hawkri here.”
The heavy, metal-fettered doors screeched open, and the familiar stallion emerged behind it.
“Don’cha let th’ chill ins’de, come quickly.”
Hawkri entered the stuffy atmosphere of the forge, stomping the snow off his boots.
“Ah got it all r’dy. Ya got money?”
“Sure.” – a generous bag plopped at the counter, its contents satisfyingly clanging.
Diamond Coal grunted in approval and levitated a lengthy object, enveloped in a skin:
“Ah made it all und’r ya sch’mes.”
“Thanks.” – Hawkri unfolded the covers and lifted the short wide-bladed sword. It was cubit-and-a-half-length, at its widest part three fingers wide. The black scabbard was laying on the counter.
“Looks good.”
“Ah used th’ very same alloy Ah use f’r those Roy’l Guard we’pnry. T’is will slice thr’gh th’ dragon’s scales in n’ time.”
“Quit that boasting. I want to test it.” – Hawkri scrolled the blade in the air; razor-sharp still hissed like a snake.
“Sure th’ng. There’s th’ dummy.” – the blacksmith pointed a hoof at the tight-rolled scroll of mat in the corner.
Nick positioned himself, draw an eight in the air with the blade’s tip, letting his wrist get used to the balance and weight of the blade.
With a short, elbow swing he sliced the mat in half with almost no resistance. Like a hot knife through butter.
“This is truly a masterpiece. You’ve outmatched yourself, Coal.” – Hawkri sheathed the blade, regulated the belt and hang it behind the back. With a smile, he brohoofed the smithy.
“I’ll need a whetstone.”
“Tis on th’ house, mate. Let it serve ya well.”
“It would.”
It all was as if Coal had anticipated what was coming – the very next day, when Sunny was coming home from school, the two were attacked.
Hawkri was walking leisurely near the filly, who was telling him, that today some pony at her class, the Thunder Flash, got her cutie mark in Maths, and that Miss Cheerilee took them to the field trip today to the City Hall, and that she saw Amethyst Star, and many more. Hawkri was listening carefully, sometimes inserting a few remarks, when something large knocked him down and snatched a filly.
Sunny screamed, but the scream came muffled, as she was knocked unconscious with the attacker. The cloaked figure, twice larger than Hawkri, rushed into the sidestreet, throwing the snow with large hooves.
“Сука!” – Hawkri immediately leapt up and charged behind the foalnapper, jumping over the barrels and unbuttoning his coat on the run.
It was a wild chase, and it ended only at the outskirts of the town, where the foalnapper stopped and put down the hood.
This was a bruising Minotaur, and little Sunny looked tiny in his giant arms.
“Поставь жеребенка, сука.” – the blade escaped the scabbard with a hiss, as Hawkri dropped the coat down to the snow.
“Put the filly down, son of a bitch.” – he repeated his demand, swinging the blade in the hissing windmill.
“Steel Hooves submit to no one rather than his Masters!” – the Minotaur bellowed, dropping his cloak to snow and putting the unconscious filly to it.
“Блядь, огромная зверюга…” – spat Hawkri, measuring his chances. He was faster – but a single blow from the Minotaur would have shattered his bones. All of them.
“If you want to pick a fight, be prepared to die!! Steel Hooves succumbed to no one!” – the beast bellowed again, snorting a puff of steam off his nostrils. He was all muscles. Just a bit higher than Hawkri, he was seriously outmatching him in weight. In hand-to-hand combat he was unmatched, and that was obvious.
“Let’s dance then.” – the blindingly-fast dexter caught Minotaur off guard, but he managed to dodge the slice with a feint.
“He’s a fast son of a bitch – for his complexion.” – thought Nick, dodging the blows and blocking the kicks.
The rivals circled around the lawn – Steel Hooves snorting, chin pressed to chest, and Hawkri concentrated, the slow, soft movements of his blade hypnotizing, distracting.
Then Steel Hooves charged at him, head-first, trying to impale the foe on his terrible horns – each cubit-long, razor-sharp – but Hawkri was faster. He dodged the charge and sliced both hamstrings of the foe, reinforcing the blow with a rotation of his waist.
Minotaur bellowed and fell face-first to the snow, blood quickly collecting in a puddle under his legs.
“Now mark my words. My daughter will not be your tool, got it, steak?” – Hawkri spat at the Minotaur and wiped the blade at his coat.
“Now tell me what, fellow, before I begin playing butcher – who sent you? And how much of you bastards are there around here?”
“Steel Hooves never would say that! To you!”
“I thought so.” – Hawkri sighed and sheathed the blade, crouched near the Minotaur and produced his other blade.
The claw-like, curved, palm-length blade.
“See this little one? I bet he simply urges to make a closer meeting with one of your eyeballs. Anyway, being a cripple you already are – the missing eye would bring some charm to it. So, speak.”
“Eat some dang, horselover!” – spat out the Minotaur.
And he paid for those words.
The razor-sharp claw plunged deep into his eye socket, rich gore flooding to the snow.
The guttural roar of pain echoed around.
“Now when you’re done screaming, meathead, pray, tell me.”
“No! Better you kill Steel Hooves! Steel Hooves says you nothing!”
“Too bad for you.” – Hawkri stood up, stretched himself, unsheathed the blade. Minotaur was squirming below his feet, desperately trying to stand up. However, the sliced sinews effectively prevented that.
All he could muster is to stand on four bones.
“Too bad for you.”
With a wide shoulder chop, the Minotaur’s head flew off, painting the snow with rich vermilion of his gore. The decapitated body trembled for a second and fell down.
Hawkri wiped the blade, lit a cigarette and sheathed his sword.
“I will call you “Ranjar”. “The Piercer”.” – he addressed the weapon, kicking the horned head away to the Everfree. Beasts will take good care of this carrion, and he felt good about it.
“Oooff!!” – the torso was really heavy. In comparison to Hawkri’s 170 pounds he was twice as heavy. But, putting the decapitated corpse up on his shoulders, he strolled leisurely to the Everfree, dropping the body near some burrow.
“Bon appétit.”
Whistling a jolly tune, our hero went back to the lawn where the fight took place. Wrapped Sunny carefully into the Minotaur’s cloak and carried her back home.
He waited.
It was a sunset when Sunny finally awoke.
“Easy, easy, my little Sun… That big bad Minotaur is gone. Feeling funny?”
“Yes…”
“Does your head hurt? How much fingers do you see?”
“If ‘fingers’ are those strange things growing from your hoof – I see two.” – giggled Sunrise.
“Okay, looks like no concussion, but I’d better not be taking chances.” – Hawkri scribed a letter quickly, leaned from the window and whistled - loud and ear-shredding whistle.
The familiar flapping of wings was not long. The owl flew close and sat at the table, asking:
“Whoo~!”
“Owlowiscious, I need you to bring this to Twilight. I need it now. Okay?”
“Whoo!”
“Well then, Godspeed.”
Owlowiscious took flight, and Hawkri turned back to the Sunny.
“Just stay where you are! You must lay down for the time being.”
“But I have a homework to be done!”
“I’ll talk to Miss Cheerilee. Don’t worry.”
When Hawkri was changing the cold compresses on the filly’s forehead, the gentle knock was heard at the door.
“Come in.”
Twilight trotted inside, confusion on her muzzle:
“Hawkri, what’s wrong?”
“Twilight, I’ll explain it all. Diagnose Sunny.”
The mare submitted, flaring up her horn. A purple aura enveloped the filly, who giggled:
“It tickles!”
“Tickles does not hurt, so keep it still!” – scolded Nick halfheartedly. Nevertheless, Sunrise Glitter obeyed and suppressed further giggles.
“She is okay, Hawkri. No concussion, no bone fractures, nothing.” – Twilight eyed Nick suspiciously.
“Sunny, if you feel okay…”
“I do!”
“Well then, guess you’d better turn to your homework. If you’ll need help, just call me.”
“Will we play chess after it?”
“Of course. I crave a rematch!” – Hawkri made up a scary face, causing Sunny to laugh.
“I am ready!”
“Okay then, go to your homework then, I have some serious issues to discuss with Twilight.”
“Yup!” – and a filly made a beeline to her room.
“That’s an attitude, you know!” – Twilight remarked, smiling at the sight.
“Wish I had the same when I was her age.”
“And how old are you, Hawkri?”
“Er. Twenty-one.”
“Okay, that is not the essence. What was the problem?”
“Sunny was attempted to foalnap.”
“WHAT?!” – Hawkri backed up – such outrage startled even him.
“WHERE THE HAY WERE YOUR EYES?!”
“Hey-hey-hey, sheesh! I was knocked down, you know!”
“Who was that?” – Twilight asked, already in her usual calm manner.
“A Minotaur.”
“Where is he now?”
“Head – in the heart of the Everfree, the rest – elsewhere there.”
“You mean…”
“I chased the motherbucker and chopped his bloody head off. He told nothing.”
“Minotaurs… Suppose we’ll hear of them again. Hmmm…” – Twilight sat on her haunches and raised a hoof to her chin in deep thought.
“Let’s go outside. I need to smoke.”
“Okay.”
The two were standing on the porch. Nick was smoking and Twilight kept pacing in front of him to and fro.
“Twi, cut it out.”
“Listen what. I can put a sentry barrier on Sunny. So anytime…”
“No way, Twilight, no magic will be laid to her!”
“Why so?”
“We do not know how her own energy will react to the intrusion. We do not need her to surge.”
“Right… What then? And what if the Griffins will appear?”
“Well, I don’t have wings.”
“Hmmm…”
Cigarette burnt Hawkri’s fingers, and he threw the butt away, cursing and sucking on his burnt digits.
“I can ask girls to keep an eye on Sunny. Rainbow and Fluttershy may patrol the sky.”
“Are you kidding? I doubt they will agree to do it.”
“Why?”
“I… er… I’ve played ass on both Flutters and RD. That was long ago, but…”
“I don’t think they still hold the grudges. Well, Fluttershy certainly won’t. And Rainbow…”
“Cut it off, Twilight. I am the one who would stand on vigil for it.”
“Okay… If you say so…”
“Hey Twi?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Concentrate. Feel the energy building inside your… errr…”
“We call it ‘hands’.”
“Right. When you feel the tension inside your hands, the pressure to be released, bend your… errr…”
“Fingers?”
“Right.”
Hawkri sat on the floor of the library and closed his eyes. The silver amulet on his neck, enchanted by Twilight, rhythmically twitched. The energy began swirling around his palms, and he lifted arms to accumulate it. The twitches of amulet became more and more sporadic, he was now literally jumping on the chain.
“Now!”
Hawkri bent his fingers as Twilight had shown him, and a burst of energy erupted from his hands, sweeping away a heavy stone, brought specifically for his training.
“I did it?” – he asked, opening his eyes.
“Well, you did…” – Twilight answered confusingly, her ears drooping down with the sight of a great boulder hammered half-deep into the basement wall with the impact.
“You’ll have to work on the energy flow control.”
So passed a week. Sunny learnt magic with Twilight, and so did Hawkri. When they were learning pyrokinesis, Hawkri managed to nearly set the whole basement on fire by hurling an overheated fireball in the wrong direction. Twilight barely managed to dispel the fire threat, as Hawkri was circling around, roaring with pain and dipping his burnt hand into the snow basket.
It was Saturday night, when a tuft of bluish fog appeared before Hawkri. Sunny was already asleep, and Hawkri was sitting at the living room, studying a book Twilight gave him. The tuft transformed into a scroll and fell to our hero’s lap.
Bepuzzled, he unwound it and read. And what he had read there made his eyebrows nearly merge with the hairline.
Quietly, not to awake Sunny, he threw on his coat and made a beeline to Cheerilee’s cottage.
Knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock.
“Cheerilee, beg your pardon for the late visit – can you do me a favor?”
The sleepy mare yawned:
“Sure. What do you need, Hawkri?”
“I have to go to Vanhoover. Princess summons me. Please, could you possibly foalsit Sunny? I’d be so much obliged.”
“Sure! Sunny is a wonderful filly, so bright and so obedient…”
“I know. Please, Cheerilee.”
“Sure!”
“Then here are the keys. I left a note for Sunny, just tell her that I went… er… on business trip, okay?”
“Sure, Nick. Godspeed.”
Hawkri beamed and hugged the helpful mare.
“Thank you, Cheerilee. I owe you one!” – he yelled, making a beeline to the station.
What he had seen at the platform started him.
All the Mane Six were there.
“Er – hi, ladies… And what are you doing here?..”
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Chapter 5: It Takes A Mirror To Seal The Deal
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.
Chapter 6: Run Fast, Run Far
Run Fast, Run Far
Train screeched to the halt at the Ponyville railway platform, letting off the already well-known ponies and some unicorn stallion, sporting a warm winter fur cloak. He was acting as a totally strange one, shuffling on his hooves and unsure where to go, but then the local information and entertainment bureau, commonly known as Pinkamena Diane ‘Pinkie’ Pie emerged:
“Hello!~ and welcome to Ponyville! I am Pinkie Pie, and what’s your name? Wow, that’s one cloak! Hope you’re here to stay, handsome, ‘cause we’re going to throw a GREAT PARTY!!” – the newcomer pouted involuntarily at the sheer volume of attack on his ears and waved a hoof timidly to Pinkie:
“Name’s Raven Wing, Miss Pie. I am a half-step-uncle to Sunrise Glitter, and I came here to take care of her.”
“Hawkri, you’re overacting just a wee bit here.” – whispered Twilight.
“Okie-dokie-lokie, then! See you around!” – and the pink fluffy menace bounced off cheerfully, humming a catchy tune.
Nick Hawkri, or, rather, Raven Wing, given the circumstances, let loose a heavy sigh. He sucked at playing at the stage – always did, but he had some experience in pretending, and this could’ve come handy.
“Excuse me, sir!” – he addressed the passing Big Macintosh. – “Could you possibly tell me, how can I get to…” – he extracted the piece of parchment from his saddlebags and checked the address. – “Meadow Lane, 15?”
“Eeyup.” – the gesture indicated the way, that Hawkri knew pretty good already. But still, he had to adhere to the role he was playing. Keep it cool, fella, he told himself.
“Mighty thanks, good sir. Raven Wing, by the way, pleased to meet you.”
“Big Macintosh. My pleasure.”
The stallions exchanged a hoofshakes, and Raven Wing trotted down the street, sweating bullets under his cloak. First round done and out, more coming.
***
Finally, he made it to the oh so well-known threshold and opened the door. It looked pretty weird to him – while seeing his own hands manipulating objects, the hazy image of his “telekinetic aura” was also visible. So, he just got inside.
“Sunny, I’m home.” – he called out casually, taking off his coat and putting the bag on the floor. The clatter of hooves alerted him that Sunny was not alone – this should’ve been Cheerilee.
“Hey, Hawkri… - wait a second. You’re a?..” – the mulberry mare creased an eyebrow, looking at the stranger.
“Cheerilee, look into the mirror.”
“Why would I…”
“You’ll see.”
Still a bit hesitantly, the schoolmarm did as she was told. The surface of the mirror seemed blurry by the moment, and then Cheerilee was ready to swear she was seeing things – right there the appearance of mousy-gray unicorn shifted and dissipated, like a morning fog at the sun, letting out the familiar towering features of a human.
“Hawkri? Care to explain?”
“Cheerilee, this was Princess Luna’s plan. I am now here incognito, as the Sunny’s half-step-uncle Raven Wing, from the middle of nowhere called ‘Cimarron’. Somewhere on the border of Bearussia and Equestria, to my mind.” – Hawkri grinned, feeling silly. Words hung like a leaden weights, ready to fall down and smash him to pieces.
***Two days earlier***
“Princess, are you sure this is going to work?” – Hawkri was spinning in front of the mirror for a good fifteen minutes, observing his new persona.
“I am quite sure, Wing.”
“Well, alright, let me put it straight. I am not sure this is a good idea because:
a) Hawkri – me, id est – is a guardian of Sunny. How would we put up with that?
b) How would it be that I am a six feet tall bipedal human?
And
c) How would Sunny know that this is me?”
“Fret not, Hawkri. I have it all sorted out. Your guardianship will be reserved after you, just transferred to the new persona you are. The illusion spell I’ve put on you is good enough to perfectly synchronize any of your movements with the same that your pony persona would do. Your horn provides some room with manipulating objects with your… how do you call them?”
“Hands?”
“Exactly. And yes, I’ve tuned the spell so that Sunny would have no problem recognizing you – it will be natural. Is this all?”
“But what if I’ll ever need to reveal my identity?”
“Just make your partner look in the mirror.” – Luna waved off nonchalantly.
“Okay. Then…” – Hawkri lifted a sheet of parchment, scanning through it, building a complicated pout.
“It says I am the denizen of some border-side settlement called ‘Cimarron’. Somewhere on the border of Bearussia, isn’t it?”
“Quite so.”
“And this says that me, the half-step-uncle of Sunny, is the trained and qualified expert in raven mail.”
“Indeed.”
“I do not have the slightest idea on how to deal with ravens. And of course, the same is for the raven mail.”
“Don’t worry, Nick. This would all be fine.” – Twilight nudged Hawkri’s elbow with her hoof, trying to reason and pacify the man.
This worked.
“Well, I believe this is for the best. Thank you, Princess. I should better get going.”
***Back to the present and back to Ponyville***
“So, this is how it all works, huh?” – drawled Cheerilee, immersed in deep thoughts. Her eyes were wandering all around the stallion she had seen, even though now she knew that was Hawkri.
“I guess it is. Anyway, how’ve you been? How’s Sunny?”
“She’s just adorable. As always, I should say.” – the teacher pony smiled, distracted from her train of thought, and ruffled the filly’s mane a bit. Sunny never seemed to object.
“Glad to hear. Because I have had one hell of a time. Care for a cup of coffee, Cheers?” – Hawkri had already lit a cigarette and put the coffee pot onto the stove.
“I won’t mind. We have some muffins – Ditzy got us a fresh batch, and there are some leftovers, if you’re hungry.”
“Don’t mind if I am. Heey, there’s my girl!” – flicking the cigarette away, Hawkri lifted his want-to-be-daughter, embracing her tightly.
“I missed you, daddy.”
“So did I, my little Sun. How’ve you been here?”
“Just dandy! Miss Cheerilee brought me to the field trip to Canterlot, and I’ve seen the Canterlot Castle! And then we got to the gardens… and… and…” – Sunny was clearly overjoyed with her experience, and she just couldn’t find the right words to describe it.
“And don’t forget – you’ve outmatched me in a chess match not once!” – Cheerilee chimed in with a soft smile.
“Yes, and we also played those giant chess in Canterlot! It was soooo awesome!”
“Wow, I like what I hear! Sunny, would you mind to play on yourself for a while – I need to discuss something with miss Cheerilee here, okay? And then you’ll tell me it all. I am all ears.”
“Sure. I’ll be upstairs.” – Sunrise Glitter flashed Nick her smile and zipped away.
“She’s so… energetic. Guess she really loves you.”
“I do my best for her, Cheerilee.” – Hawkri tried to shrug off the inconvenient theme, but of no avail – this here mare was in no mood to let it off that easy.
“What’s that behind your back? Is it a…” – Cheerilee tried to reach her neck out to see, but our hero already turned to show her. Yes, he forgot to take the sword off, and the black leather scabbard now clinched tightly against his back.
“Yes, Cheerilee, it is a sword. A spatha, to be precise.” – baring the blade, he demonstrated it to the schoolmarm.
“Hawkri…”
“Easy. If not this blade here, Sunny would’ve been in far worse situation.” – a deep rut cut through Hawkri’s forehead, and his eyes flashed dangerously. – “Woo, water’s nearly boiling. Excuse me for a couple of minutes…” – he reached out to the cupboard to get all the ingredients for his famous brew.
“It smells great – what’d you put in there?”
“Just a pinch of ginger and a bit of cardamom. The biggest secret is how long you want to keep the coffee on fire. When it only starts to boil you want to lift the pot, and do it like this…” – Hawkri wrapped his hand in a towel and started to rhythmically thump against the bottom of a coffee pot, as if it was a drum. Keeping it on for a minute or so, he put the pot on the stove again, until the coffee began to boil, and repeated the procedure.
The smell of brewing drink wafted in the kitchen, as Cheerilee produced two cups and put some muffins on the plate.
“Mmmm! Tastes so nice! And the smell… Whoa, Hawkri, you’re one magician, you know that?”
“Just an old trick. A friend of mine taught me kind of a while ago, and I’m just using his wisdom.” – Our hero smiled with his eyes only, taking a sip from his mug.
“Anyway, now tell me, what could be so much important that you just hightailed to Vanhoover and came back disguised as a far-fetched relative of Sunny? What’s the big idea?”
That stare. The direct and intent gaze from the beautiful mare’s eyes. Piercing – and irresistible.
“Okay. I will tell you. But I need you to promise me one thing. This is kind of a rite, you see – I want you to keep this in secret. Once we will overcome this, you may tell Sunny one day – when she’ll reach the legal age, and never earlier, mind this.” – Hawkri put his mug down and shifted the glasses to the top of his head, so his eyes were in direct contact with Cheerilee’s.
“I feel funny when you look at me like this, Nick…” – mumbled Cheerilee, trying to look away. Alas, it was all in vain – the deep, marshy-green eyes locked her gaze, hypnotizing and suppressing her will.
“Would you swear on the good memory of your Ancestors and with the blood of your mother’s heart, with the light of the Sun and the Moon and with the free winds, that carry us around our lives – would you swear that what you’ll hear will never leave this room until need be?”
“I… will.” – Cheerilee felt as if her heart was groped with some warm paw and gently squeezed; she felt it fluttering, her head spun around as if she was dizzy, and there was nothing else in this world aside from this deep voice and those terrible eyes, that pierced her soul and burned a flaming brand of words on it.
“I swear on the good memory of my Ancestors and with the blood of my mother’s heart, with the light of the Sun and the Moon and with the free winds that carry me around my life, that I will never betray your trust in me, Nick Hawkri.” – Words seemed to flow all on their own, escaping her reason and good will, and permeating the air with their weight.
“Good. I accept thy oath, Cheerilee. Now we are bond, and this bond shall stay.”
“So be it.” – And the light blacked out in the eyes of a poor mare.
“…Sorry about that, Cheerilee. I believe you, but this is way too serious.” – Hawkri’s voice came muffled, as if he was speaking through the thick pillow, as Cheerilee blinked the blur from her sight.
“Did I just… blacked out?”
“Yes. It was a pretty potent rite, sorry. But now, having your oath, I can tell you everything. So you’d better make yourself comfortable – this is one hell of a story.”
Despite the warning, the whole ‘Vanhoover Chronicles’ took not that long. Cheerilee was listening silently, only nodding occasionally. The passage with the ‘false Wrench’ and the canteen scene made her wrinkle her nose in disgust.
“That’s terrible.”
“It is. It looks like there’s a whole network of agents of Hegemony around Equestria, and they somehow know about each of our steps – or is it just my paranoia?”
“Time will tell.”
As Hawkri was telling her of the librarium – the bookstore of books lost and forgotten – Cheerilee blushed, fiddling with the teaspoon uncomfortably.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no, it’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah… Please, go on.”
Hawkri submitted to the request, but his mind wandered away from his narrating – it was back to the book he had written and acquired from Ahriman, the Liber Colloquii. It was kept securely in his bag, buried under the change of clothes and a bits pouch, but he couldn’t just get rid of the idea this all was somehow set up. For him.
“…and then we boarded the train back to Ponyville.” – taking a sip of the already cold coffee, he lit a cigarette. Cheerilee opened the window, and the cold winter air came in gusts.
“So, I knew someone was after Sunny for some reason. But what does the Hegemony has to do with it?”
“I was told that they plan to rewrite the history, but my guts keep nagging me that there’s something deeper in here. Deeper and way more grim. I hope my guts are just a bad prophets, but…” – Hawkri pulled deep on his cigarette, cloaking himself in the bluish cloud of smoke.
“Anyway, keep a good eye on Sunny.”
“I will.”
Cheerilee collected the dishes and put them into the sink, preparing to do the washing.
“Leave it be, I’ll do this.” – the click of the window locks sounded like a locked and loaded gun.
“Okay.”
An awkward silence fell. Hawkri was standing near the window, leaning against the windowsill, immersed in his thoughts, while Cheerilee was bitting her bottom lip. Her facial expression betrayed it all – the thoughts were rushing through her mind like a flood that escaped the old and worn dam.
“I guess I’d better be going, Nick… I… My sister is coming tomorrow, and I need to… uh… get the room ready for her.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah… Thanks for the coffee. And for the trust. Tell Sunny she’s a wonderful filly.”
“Sure will. Bye, Cheers. Come by anytime.”
They embraced each other – a human in pony disguise and a teacher pony.
“I guess I’ll see you around, Raven Wing?” – Cheerilee winked at Hawkri with a playful flick of her tail.
“I am quite assured you will, milady.” – courteously smiled Raven Wing.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Cheers. Watch yourself.”
“Sure will. You too.”
“ ‘kay.”
The snow was falling all around, making stars shine brighter, like a diamonds on the smooth black velvet of the night sky.
The figures are all set on the board, and Sunrise sat, lower lip jutting out in a deep thought.
“Sunny, why are you so negligent around pawns?” – smiled Nick, taking his daughter’s pawn with his knight.
“They are just pawns, daddy? What’s the big idea of them?” – asked Sunny, bemused, moving her bishop to cut off Hawkri’s rook.
“Look.” – Taking the pawn, Nick moved it forward – one small step. Sunny’s white queen took it, and Nick’s knight leapt forward like a bird of prey, destroying the queen and jeopardizing the white king.
“Checkmate, my little grand master.”
“Wow, daddy! That was just great! I’ve never seen that coming!” – Sunny was just beaming with joy, looking on the board – inspecting, calculating, assessing.
“This is called the ‘gambit’. You give the lesser – and gain the upper hand. Remember, my little sunshine, this is all about pawns.” – Hawkri took one of the figures – a white pawn – and fiddled with it, rolling it in his fingers.
“The pawn is the mighty player, even if it is not as unpredictable as a knight or as long-shot as a rook or, for instance, bishop.”
“Yes, I see – bring the pawn to the other side of the board, and you have a promotion to it.”
“That’s only one side of the matter, my dear. You see, in the middle of the game – the mittelspiel, as they call it – when it is vying for dominance in the center of the board and when knights and bishops wrack chaos – the pawn may slip its way through thin and thick, supporting, defending or even threatening the other figures. It holds immense possibilities, as you do.” – Sunny flicked her tail against her blank flank and drooped ears, as if her vigor was flushed away.
“Now, now – it is nothing so shameful not to have a cutie mark. You may excel in anything you wish – would that be art or science, gardening or chess – whatever you wish. This comes with age.” – Hawkri’s hand laid on the filly’s hoof, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“I understand, daddy… Thank you…” – oh Gods, those eyes. Nick felt his heart melting into the puddle, as it was each time she called him ‘daddy’.
Too bad he had to go one day.
The Hearts Warming Eve was already incoming, and the denizens of Ponyville were basking in the glow of upcoming holiday. Raven Wing, the new citizen of Ponyville and the new guardian of Sunrise Glitter, now got a new job at the library – he was working at the archives and minded the shelves, restocking them and running some errands. The day before he was subject to the ‘welcome to Ponyville’ party, and now he was kind of hungover – someone spiked the punch, and he had certain suspicions of a certain mare.
“Hey Wing, how’re you doing?” – Spike’s head popped up from the upper shelf, making the unicorn (who, of course, was a disguised Hawkri) nearly jump. The pile of books he was holding in his hands – a “telekinetic grasp”, of course – dangerously wobbled, threatening to ruin the results of his long and hard labour for the past hours.
“Greetings, Spike. I am fine, thanks – just a bit hungover after that soirée the day before. I suppose I had just a tad bit too much fun.” – Wing smiled to the ‘number One assistant’, arranging the books to the corresponding shelves.
“Yeah, I guess you are. Pinkie Pie and Berry Punch sure are one challenge to withstand…” – harrumphed the purple drake, quickly descending the ladder.
“Quite so. Is there anything I can help you with?” – Wing’s attention was distracted, as Owloviscious landed on his back. Hawkri was already sweating bullets – how was that possible? The whole “back thing” was illusion! But feeling the claws, resting against his shoulder and the warm, feathery softness against his ear, he relaxed. The bird didn’t seemed to object, he just “Whoo”-ed once and fluffed up his feathers.
“Huh, he seems to like you.” – smiled Spike, dusting the shelves with a small feather brush.
“My special talent is the interaction with birds.” – Raven Wing a.k.a. Hawkri explained, letting an inner exhale. – “I didn’t got my cutie mark for nothing, you know.”
“I guess so.” – Drake shrugged away the question, keeping on with his duties.
“So, anyway, you are from the border with Bearussia, right? Have you been there?”
“Couple of times and passing by, quite so.” – replied Raven, stacking up the parchment blanks on the counter.
“So, how’s it in there? Are there truly bears striding down the streets?”
“Quite so! And more than that, they all wear some kind of high fur hats – they call it “papakha” and all of them play some string musical instrument – “balalaika”! My goodness, you’d never believe, but they’re actually quite good with this one!” – Hawkri was trying oh so hard not to just burst out laughing.
“Wow. And what are those…” – Spike hesitated for a moment. – “ ‘laikas’ look like?”
“Well, they resemble the guitar a bit – but they are triangular, and they have only three strings. And the sound is pretty high-pitched, so, I guess, they have something akin to banjo.”
“Weird.” – was the only verdict of Spike.
“Whoo.” – agreed Owloviscious, smiling.
***
While our hero was enjoying his small talk with Spike, in the mountain hall of the Coven Primus awakened from his slumber. The torches were unlit, but he needed no fire to see in the dark. He, the descendant of a far more ancient and powerful forces then anyone would have ever presumed, was lying relaxed for a moment, stretching after a refreshing slumber. His wonderful scales glistened even in the darkness, while his eyes seemed to devour all the light that fell to them – two pools of immense darkness and pure void.
“I take that as the Game has begun…” – he purred to himself, smiling.
***
“Once thee hath steppeth to the path of war, never wilst thee turn away from it.” – Hawkri grunted, rubbing his eyelids; the Liber Colloquii was pretty far-fetched, to his mind, and runes danced in front of his eyes, seemingly grinning at him and mocking his own face – the signs shifted and changed, traded places, while only the crude sketch of his face was smirking at him, as if saying “I know dat feel, bro.”
Something made our hero want to shut the book close and send it flying across the street. But instead…
“Да ебись ты конем.” – sighed Nick, standing up from the bed and undressing for the night. The book was left negligently on the nightstand, and the gilded sign on the cover seemed to squirm like a snake, trying to escape the leather bond.
“Утихни нахуй…” – yawned Hawkri, submitting to the warm embrace of the blanket.
And it was quiet in the house number fifteen, Meadow Lane, and only the quiet humming of the wind in the chimney was heard.
But let us leave Hawkri and Sunny for the time being – and let’s go see the neighborhood.
House number fourteen – Romena is here, knitting something with joy.
House number thirteen – Cherry Garden, the local visual artist, creating her new masterpiece – with so much vigor in her movements that the globs of paint are flying all around.
House number sixteen – Clock Work, the local Doctor Whooves, actuating the old-looking alarm clock.
House number seventeen… Well, Cheerilee lives here.
So, let us slip inside – without invitation, sneaky and stealthy – and here we go.
***
Cheerilee sits in a worn-looking armchair, holding a glass of Apple’s Jack in her hooves. Her mane is disheveled, and she clearly is drunk. Even the quick glance at her drooping ears and the sorrowful eyes betrays you the cause of her spleen – she is depressed and frustrated. A lonely mare, classic spinster – she is tired, no, she is so much fed up with being alone.
Alone.
Just listen to that word. The way she whispers it – almost inaudible, almost… doomed. She is a teacher, and all her students are like her own children to her. But then they just go, and she is left there, stuck as a nail, with no way out. Not at her age – she wouldn’t find anything other to do, and she will keep dragging this yoke till she will be retired…
Wait, Cheerilee. We will gently interrupt her from that spleen, taking the glass away from her and gingerly pulling away the strand lock of mane from her eyes.
It is not about any… carnal feelings. No, she is used to the feeling of permanent tension, and she had learnt her own ways to deal with it.
It is all about just being close to someone.
It is already late at night, and the Hearts Warming Eve is coming soon. So, shall we not offer a helping hand to those, who need it?
Cheerilee was already fast asleep on the couch, curling into a ball and smiling in her slumber. Let us just cover her with the warm plaid and kiss her goodnight. She deserved it.
***
Morning greeted Hawkri not with the warm rays of pale winter sun, but with the terrible rumble and noise outside. It seemed as if the meteor crash landed at the porch, and Hawkri, leaping up from his sleep, dashed down the stairs, even not minding that his bare feet sound nothing even near their familiar ‘thup-thup-thup’ – instead, there was a sharp clopping of hooves, but that was not of the essence.
Kicking open the door, he ran outside, baring his teeth instinctively, all of his five senses gaining information.
“What happened?” – Clock Work emerged from the window, sporting a vintage-looking night cap.
“I’ll see.” – Raven Wing trotted up to the large snowdrift, which was not here yesterday.
“Anyone alive?”
A low, weak moan was his answer. Hawkri began digging, throwing a good handfuls of snow with each shove, and soon he had seen the sizable wooden box.
“I’m down here! Help…” – the voice called out again, filled with pain and sounding like someone there was on the verge of blackout.
“Hold on. I am coming!” – Two more powerful shoves, cold and snow already numbing his very bones, and Hawkri was presented to the sight he sure wasn’t ready to see.
There was Ditzy Doo, Derpy, harnessed tightly into some sort of yoke, which was connected to the small wagon, now resting in pieces.
“Ditz, what in the world has got into you?”
“Air pockets…” – blurted Derpy, drifting off to unconsciousness.
Silently swearing to Gods, Hawkri pulled the blackened out mare at his withers and dragged here inside, together with the yoke of hers.
Clock Work, who silently watched the scenery, sighed and put the kettle on the stove. It was his day off, and he was planning to stay in bed late – though the fate decided another way, and a good cup of Darjeeling wouldn’t do much harm.
***
“Ditzy!.. Ditzy!..” – Hawkri changed the compress on mare’s forehead, dipping the fresh towel in the cauldron of cold water, brought by Sunny – filly had not long ago studied telekinesis and was proud of it. Hawkri smiled, accepting the damp cold vessel, surrounded in pale green aura.
“Быстро учится. Вся в меня…” – an unexpected thought flashed in his mind, only to flee as a morning haze when Derpy stirred and moaned.
“Ditzy, you hear me?”
“Yup… Ooof!”
“Stay down. What happened? And what the heck is this for?” – Hawkri presented her a yoke, lying near the couch on the floor.
Derpy tried to rise from the couch, but winced in pain and bit her lip, not to cry out.
“Stay down!” – commanded Nick, shuffling through the drawer in search of aspirin. Not much of a remedy, but nothing stronger was at hand. So, lacking the better…
“Drink it, Ditz – this shall ease the pain.” – Hawkri slid a hand under Derpy’s head, slightly cranking it forwards to make it easier for the hurt mare. He couldn’t help but notice the silkiness of her mane, flowing like cascade on the couch pillow.
The Pegasus greedily drank the water, coughing at the bitter aftermath of the pill.
“Should be better. I’ll go fetch the doctor. Sunny, would you mind?”
“Sure, Uncle Wing.” – the filly responded from the bookshelf. They’ve agreed at that Sunny would call Hawkri ‘Uncle Wing’ or just ‘RaWin’ when anypony not knowing of his disguise is around. This was for the best.
“Hey…” – came the weak voice of the mailmare from the couch, when Hawkri already was holding the doorknob.
“Yes?”
“Thanks, Nick.” – those simple words, complete with a warm loving smile, made Hawkri’s guts freeze. However, he just shrugged and paced quickly to the Ponyville General Hospital to fetch the doctor.
***
“Come in, Phosis – fear ye not.” – Primus smiled, stepping into the circle of light.
He was an imposing sight to see. Long, muscular frame of a feline, covered in pearl-mother glistening scales, flexible tail, whipping at the air, two large wings, folded casually at his back – and atop all that an equine head, proud and elegant, complete with a carnivorously looking beak, made to tear and shred. Eyes were two pools of pure darkness, and he himself was emanating an air of threat and terrible, primal force – which was far beyond any reasonable mind, and made the whole bizarre ensemble of what Primus was an incorporation of something ancient – older then the world itself – and it was utterly terrific.
“My Lord…” – kneeled the Griffin, eyes down. – “I have some news for you.”
“So speak up, child – I like the news, whatever they are.” – Primus’ claws clicked against the cold rock of the cave floor, each looking like dagger.
“We’ve captured a spy, my Lord. She was trying to infiltrate our area of influence and disrupt the connections between our agents. We suppose that she was sent by the Pony Princesses. They must be suspecting something.” – Phosis added a short curse in Griffish, raising from her kneeled posture.
“Is that a lady? I’ll be, this gets more and more interesting by the moment…” – Primus smirked, enjoying the view that only he could have behold. The Phosis looked for him as a glob of pure crimson wrath, connected with the Alariche – the thin link, weaved of the golden kindred feeling and the bluish gray rivalry.
“I’ll talk to her. Bring her here, and ask Alariche to stand on guard. You may be dismissed then, Phosis.” – Primus tasted the little chunk of Phosis’ self – the vivid misty corporation of wrath, basking at the glow of its power and enjoying the coppery taste of it.
Like fresh blood.
Phosis kneeled again and flared her wings in a short salute. Folding them against the sides, she silently jumped out from the hall, leaving Primus alone for the time being.
The Play has begun. With his long claws Primus scratched the air, beholding in awe the supercomplex cobweb of endless possibilities and relations. Only one spot was invisible to his eyes, irritating him like a buzzing fly at the corner of his sight – the bleary smudge in the middle of colorful blaze of Ponyville, as if the tapestry was torn in there and the blank wall was seen from under it.
I know where you are, little Sunrise. The Play has begun, and you have made your choice.
Primus’ train of thought was interrupted by the clatter of hooves against the rock, and he addressed his involuntary guest with a smile:
“I say, such a pity I have to welcome you here, milady. If I were warned beforehand, I’d have prepared the place, miss…”
“Yule. Matilda Yule, please.” – Answered the coming – a female donkey of middle age, trying to remain her composure.
Primus stole a quick taste of her – a wonderful serving of bravery, love and devotion, though mixed with the spicy tinge of suppressed terror and pride.
She is good.
“I say, Miss Yule, it was such a tidbit to know you’re coming! Ah, woe me, you must be tired. Please, do take a seat and help yourself.” – A stone platform emerged from under the frightened donkey, gently bumping her from the downside and shifting to some kind of a seat.
“Pray – take a seat. We have a long talk ahead of us…” – grinned Primus, emerging the identical if bigger seat for himself. Obedient to the silent order, the Minotaur scout came in, holding a bowl of fruits. With a bow to Primus, he set it in between the stone seats and fled silently, as a shadow.
“Help yourself, Miss Yule.” – The abhorrent host gestured wide, grabbing a ripe apple.
“I am sated, thank you.” – replied Matilda with dignity. The effect was just a tad bit spoiled with the slight shakiness to her voice.
Primus wasted no words, clawing at the bonds between her: some other old donkey, sporting a ridiculous wig… A curly pink pony, chattering without end… Some more ponies… There. Princess Luna.
The ancient menace scowled a bit. This was a strong opponent. He should have known. But no harm done, he concluded. With such figures that he had, the Play would be complete in no time.
And what about Hawkri the human? , whispered something in his inquisitive mind. Indeed, this was a distraction. From how much he had known, Steel Hooves, who tried to kidnap the foal, was brought down by this man.
The very idea of it tickled Primus’ senses, and he kept replaying the scene of battle in his mind. The vivid, burning hot, vermillion berserker rage of the Minotaur, fixed to the only purpose – to tear the offender apart, and some other strange, piquant feeling – of noble purple, that sure was wrath – but righteous? wrath – emanating from the new figure on the Board. Then it was the same bitter taste of fear and pain, which were dirty-yellow and tasted like ash and the wondrous blast of death. After dealing with the corpse the shine of wrath around the man subsided, letting go the greenish feeling of affection and concern, that tasted tangy, like the first leaves in the spring forest.
He will be a good hunt , whispered the voice. He may also be the last straw. We need him.
Primus agreed to his mental companion, turning back to his involuntary guest:
“So, Miss Yule – it was my pleasure to meet you.” – He bowed courteously, pretty much sincere. – “I fear this is the end of our meeting.”
***
“Nothing lethal we have here – a fractured hoof, minor splinter of thighbone and a sinew sprain.” – stated Doctor Stables, the green glow of his magic subsiding. – “What I prescript is casting the leg, no physical exertion and plenty of rest.” – He smiled to Derpy, who tried to return the favor, but involuntarily winced in pain.
“Here’s the list of medical reserves you’ll have to supply with, Mister Wing.” – the surgeon levitated the parchment to Hawkri, who accepted it with what seemed like magic grip.
“Hmm, those are pretty strong painkillers, Doc. Are you sure?” – he asked, lowering his voice.
The brown stallion let out a sigh, looked behind his shoulder and motioned to the hall. Can we talk in private?, this supposed to mean. Hawkri nodded.
“Sunny, would you please sit with Ditzy for a while? I need to talk to Mister Stables here.”
“Sure, Uncle Raven. I was about to read her the new novel of Daring Do.” – Sunny levitated the tome before her, harrumphed and began reading. The expression of sheer bliss on Derpy’s face was priceless.
“Is it all that bad, Doc?” – asked Hawkri, sitting on his haunches (as it seemed, while he just crouched to keep the conversation low).
“Well, the splintered bone is a pretty nasty thing, mister Wing.” – the medic levitated the glasses off, letting out the sigh and wiping them with the lap of his lab coat. – “She may gain insomnia due to sheer pain. Every tiny movement may provoke a paroxysm of it.”
“I see…” – murmured Hawrki, scanning through the prescription again. This could cost pretty much.
“May I ask, sir Wing – you seem to have a rather decent knowledge of medicine. Those drugs are not just some mundane everyday ones, you know…” – stallion’s gray eyes darted at Hawkri, who shifted uncomfortably.
“Err… I was in pretty much same situation, Doc… Once I’ve run into a nasty fight on the border and was hurt pretty bad.” – Lying was never his cup of tea, but Stables seemed to buy it, so – so far so good. – “And I was prescript with the same. I remember the couriers of Pony Express flying to Stalliongrad to get it.” – Our hero was ready to swear that his pony persona drooped its ears in gloom.
“Oh! I see.” – The surgeon harrumphed, putting the glasses back on and rising. – “Well then, good luck to you, sir Wing. The ordinance of intake is stated in the documentaries inside the packs of medicine. If you’ll have any questions, please, come to the hospital, first floor, study 15.” – The two exchanged a hoof/handshake, and a small pouch of bits clang against the doctor’s hoof.
“What is that for?”
“We say ‘Don’t refuse a gift, don’t accept the blow’, sir.” – winked Hawkri.
“Why thank you, sir.” – the brown stallion was visibly amused and touched with the small present. – “I wish your marefriend to get well soon.”
Hawkri let out a small laugh: “Ditzy is not my marefriend. She’s just a friend of mine, that’s it.”
“Well, then I assume that you will find one soon!” – retorted the surgeon with a coy smile, putting the pouch into his saddlebags.
“See you again, sir.”
“See you.” – as the door closed with a click, Hawkri exhaled and rubbed the corners of his eyes with the fingertips. That was a close call.
“Doing good here, girls? All on the chit-chat?” – smiled our hero, pacing leisurely inside the living room, where Derpy was listening to the narration of Sunny.
“Shhh!” – the Pegasus shooed at Hawkri, smiling to Sunny, encouraging the filly to continue.
“Sunny, darling, could you please put the kettle on the stove? The embers are still hot, and you know where we keep the firewood. Just take care, fine?”
“Okay, Daddy. Be right back!” – the peach-colored filly zipped to the kitchen, leaving Hawkri and Ditzy alone.
“Feeling better, Ditz?”
“Kind of... Hawkri?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. I’m such a klutz, and you are here to help – always there...” – Ditzy’s eyes began to well with tears, and Hawkri sat near her on the couch, resting a hand on her chest.
“That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”
“I guess...”
An awkward silence fell, interrupted only with the occasional cracking of firewood in the fireplace.
“Ditzy?”
“Yes?..”
“Listen, this would look weird, but – look at me. Do you see human-me or somepony-me?”
Ditzy narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side, creasing an eyebrow:
“Well, it’s a double vision. I see a human you – and then I see some gray stallion.”
Whew. Magic works flawless, thank you, Princess.
“Well, this is complicated. Thank you, Ditzy.” – Hawkri carefully hugged the wounded mare, caressing her mane a bit.
“And what’s wrong? Why is it so?”
“I’ll tell you – when the Sunny will be asleep. It is too early for her to know.”
“I see...”
After a minute of silence, with dozing off Derpy and Hawkri, braiding her mane absentmindedly, a soft clip-clop of little hooves informed him that Sunny came from the kitchen – for some assistance, that is?
“Daddy... There’s no firewood.”
“I’ll get it, sweetie. Just hang in here, fine?”
“Sure.”
The firewood issue being sorted out, and our hero, bringing the last batch of wood inside and bringing the crispy chill of the winter bliss from outside. Once the embers are fed with some new wood, the fire, timid at first, flickered in the stove; however, in the matter of minutes it already roared full-throttle, radiating waves of warmth and melting ice on the windows.
“Hawkri, may I ask you for a favour?” – Ditzy’s sleepy voice tracked his attention.
“Yes, what’s it, Ditz?”
“I was thinking... Could you please fasten something to my leg, so I could fly home? Dinky is all alone there...”
Nick nearly facepalmed hard. Blast it, he completely forgot of the Derpy’s lil’ sister, Dinky! Shame on you, Nick Hawkri, you’re such a halfwit ass.
“No way, lady, you are staying here. I’ll go fetch Dinky, and y’all stay here until you are good as new.” – Nick stood tall, hands against his sides and mocking gravity to his face made Derpy smile.
“Really?”
“Of course. Who do you think we are? And Sunny will be happy to see Dinky, so it’s a ‘win-win’ situation. And still, the more the merrier!”
Ditzy Doo waved her hoof, attracting Hawkri closer. He submitted, sitting on the couch. She repeated the motion, as if saying “Closer!”. Once again, he leaned almost down to her face and was rewarded with a quick peck in the cheek. It was unexpected, to say the least, but our hero swallowed all he had to say, seeing Derpy blushing like a mayflower.
So be it...
***
Primus closed his eyes, making himself comfortable on his rock podium, covered with furs. He had much to do, as the Play was already acting.
The complex web of relations and possibilities, somewhere ghostly or only budding, dissipated from view, changing with the view of a large chessboard, adorned with the figures crafted with keen and precision. Primus strode around, caressing the pawns made like timberwolves and other creatures of the wild, smiled at the rooks, looking like Minotaurs and saluted mockingly to the Griffin bishops. Each figure was towering good three feet above Primus’ head, and the marble they were made of felt warm to the touch, as if it was a living flesh.
“There we go, my Black Queen...” – he smirked, leaving a deep claw rut on the side of the figure, resembling quite a notable personality. – “Your time is about to come... But it is not now.”
The beast averted its gaze from the queen and looked at the opposite side of the board, where white figures were standing. Pawns were Royal Guards, crafted with precision and attention – every single figure was different. Facial expression, posture – it all was different.
But it was not the pawns that worried Primus. Even though he had always known that they were the most dangerous players by far. No. It was the white king he was interested in, and the white queen – and where the king’s place was taken with the whirling cloud of haze, cloaking the figure behind it, the queen figure was made as...
Sunrise. Little Sunrise Glitter is the key to the king.
Primus smiled, seeing that one of the flanks in the white army was barren. This was a place for Hawkri, but he passed away, and so did his figure. This was a mysterious riddle, and Primus was excited of what’s going to come.
“Let it be. So far...” – the echo caught the small chuckle and played with it, making it expand to manic laughter and descend to the quiet snicker, permeating the very air of this place – out of any system and devoid of reason.
***
“Okay, ladies, I guess I’ll have to leave you be for a while,” – Hawkri smiled, putting down Dinky’s bag in the hall and producing a prescription sheet from the stand. – “I’ll go hit the shops and nag at the pharmacist until I have what I want!”
“Okay!”, “Sure!”, “Take care, Uncle Wing!” – was the reply. Nick felt his heart throb.
“Be right back. Sunny, you are in charge! Attn-shun!” – Raven Wing made a mocking gesture of a Royal Guard, repeated by Sunny, much to the amusement of both Doo sisters.
“Lieutenant Glitter! Our HQ hath given ye the order to watch this location and prevent anything that jeopardizes our coming evening meal! Do you understand the order?”
“Sir, yes sir!!” – Squeaked “lieutenant”, trying really hard not to laugh her tail off.
“Then – dismissed, lieutenant! At ease!” - Hawkri saluted, to be followed by Sunny.
“Aye, Captain!” – piped in Dinky, also saluting.
“And for you, Corporal Doo, the HQ hath given a special order! Ye must keep company to Lieutanant Glitter and the VIP – Miss Ditzy here! Ya got me?”
“Sir, yes sir!!” – Both fillies reported in unison.
“At ease then, ladies!” – laughed Hawkri, hugging both foals. Derpy expressed her approval in flapping wings instead of clapping hooves.
***
Despite all his hopes, the pharmacy business went smooth. Pharmacist accepted the prescription, scanned through it and dove under the counter, rummaging through it, while Hawkri was counting the claimed amount of money, humming a slightly gangst-ish tune from an ol’ movie:
“Money! – It’s gas!
Grab that cash with both hands an’ make a staaash~…”
“Here you go, sir.” – The popped up pharmacist derailed his train of thought oh so harsh, handing him all the requited medicines. Paying his bill and bidding farewell to the helpful employee, Hawkri strode out of pharmacy and was rummaging through his innumerable pockets to produce a smoke, when he bumped into something soft. Something soft squeaked.
“Beg pardon... Cheerilee?”
The mulberry mare smiled shyly, dropping the paper bag from the pharmacy to her saddlebags and pulling down the pink fluffy earmuffs.
“Hawkri, that’s an encounter! What has taken you so far so late?”
“Nah, just walking. The promenade-a-soiree, you know...” – laughed Hawkri, cropping the Prench words mercilessly. – “And you?”
Cheerilee sighed.
“I was... I was just shopping a bit. I need my sedative to get rid of insomnia. That’s it.”
“Вот ведь бедолага…” – mused Hawkri to himself, offering Cheerilee a hand. She accepted it, and he paced down a bit to keep in line with the lady.
“Nick?”
“On the line.”
“Thank you. For…” – the dark fuchsia shade of the mare’s fur turned even darker on her cheeks.
“???”
“Well, that other day I was totally smashed, you know… But then… Well, thank you.” – she nuzzled the man affectionately, reaching to his neck – if anything is closer to a straight full-blown kiss, line your shot!
“Cheerilee… I may sound weird, but what are you…” – the momentary flash of recognition sparked in our hero’s mind. The couch, Apple’s Jack, plaid… - “What if it wasn’t me?” – Nick asked with a coy smile.
“I’ve found the lighter. Your lighter. The plastic one, red-and-orange.” – the desperate schoolmarm looked at our hero triumphantly, as if she was nominated for the Neighbel Prize.
“You got me red-handed, officer.” – sighed Hawkri in defeat. – “It’s okay, really, Cheers. What are friends for, anyway?”
***
The clock ticked midnight, and everypony in the house number 15 on Meadow Lane were already fast asleep. Fillies were set in Sunny’s room, and Derpy slept in Hawkri’s room, while he himself set on the couch in the living room. He was not asleep, hovewer – lighting a candle and smoking a cigarette as a late-night snack for a cup of tea, he was scanning through the pages of his book, never even troubling himself with the comprehending of what’s written there. He was somewhere else in his mind, summarizing, thinking, trying this and that – and, however, this was a “no win” situation. Cheerilee on the one hand and Ditzy on the other. Both showing some attraction to him. Both experiencing some feelings.
The longer he lived here, he assumed, the more factors appeared that prevented him (and effectively!) from coming back home. This was as it was said by one of his favorite writers, sir Max: “You are shackled to the whole world, that you drag with you. You don’t see it or feel it, but it’s always there – the friends, the family, the relationship, the memories – it’s all in there.” And now this weight of the whole Universe was doubled.
Hawkri squashed the butt in the spam can and sighed. He really missed the ‘Asshole Hawkri’ days sometimes. This tension was simply unbearable.
***
The Hearts Warming Eve day had begun just as a usual one – snowing all day long, sunshine and crispy chilly air. Hawkri was busy at the library, reshelving it after the party Pinkie threw yesterday – this time the crazy pink mare decided to pull some intricate practical joke. However, the core of it remained unchanged – she swapped the science books with the books on how to arrange party and the “Baking yummies for total dummies”. But it would have been too easy to just spend a couple of hours, searching the library upside down and finding out the decoys – no, the pastry chef had changed the covers! And now, for instance, the “History of Griffin Race” could be the “1000 and 1 idea for a bachelor party” or a “Best Pranks Known To Ponykind”, so Hawkri gained all his patience, gritted his teeth and, with the support of Twilight and Spike, began the work. As it was said in his homeland, they had to work ‘от дальней стены и до обеда’, which was perfectly genial – to fuse the space and time together and apply it to the manual labor.
“Ugh. Another dummy…” – grunted Spike, putting the book of “Grimoire Of Grimdark And Ecologically Dubious Creatures” to the side.
“And what’s inside, I wonder?” – snickered Raven Wing, opening the next book.
“Uh… ‘The Pros And Cons Of Using The Baking Powder: Reference Guide’. This is just stupid!” – outraged the drake, stomping his feet at the ground.
“Take it easy, Spike – we needed this reshelving for quite the time already, so…” – Twilight tried to reason her number one assistant, and found some support from up the shelf: Owloviscious let out a very meaningful hoot, before dragging one of the volumes out and bringing it to Hawkri.
“Thanks, mate!” – The book of “Theory Of Magic Relativity” by Starswirl the Bearded was in fact an almanac of anecdotes.
The quartet of them worked for the most part of the day, with a short break for lunch, during which a very interesting conversation was held:
“So, Raven Wing – what’re your plans for the HWE?”
“For what, now?” – Hawkri put the sandwich down, creasing an eyebrow at the curious abbreviation.
“Hearts Warming Eve.” – giggled Twilight, taking a sip of tea. – “The holiday, you know.”
“Oh! Well, I guess, I’ll spend it with Sunrise, my half-step-niece!” – Raven Wing tried really hard to shrug off the question – but he sucked at pretending he never cared.
“Come on! As far as I know, you are now also caring of Derpy and Dinky, aren’t you?” – pushed the persistent dragon.
“Miss Doo is hurt, so I decided that, as a gentlecolt, I am obliged to help her by all means.” – The “gentlecolt” tried to play cool, but then again – ‘u suq, nigga!’
“Spike tries to tell you that you can always ask them out. You know, maybe go out somewhere…” – smiled Twilight, finishing her sandwich.
“Err; I haven’t considered this kind of idea, though! This may be really nice…” – drawled Hawkri, fiddling with the teaspoon absentmindedly. The chain of thoughts was really simple: if he’ll concentrate on only Derpy, he’ll hurt Cheerilee, and vice versa.
“Дачтобтебячертидрали…” – he murmured under his breath, making sure that no one heard his outrage.
His silence, however, was considered as the uncertainty.
“You weren’t celebrating that much of Hearts Warming Eve, right?” – asked Twilight point-blank, concern in her voice.
“Quite right, Twilight. I was not.” – Hawkri’s gaze was really, really thankful.
“Then, I guess, it’s a good time to start with?” – the lavender mare smiled, pretty coyly.
“I guess so!” – grinned Raven Wing.
“Anyway, lunchtime’s over – back to work, everypony!” – piped in Spike, accompanied with Owloviscious.
“Who?”
“Us!”
“Who!”
“Ya, rly.” – laughed Hawkri, finished his tea and went back to the storage room.
Once the first dusk of night had timidly set foot on the land, Twilight called Hawkri upstairs; Spike was enjoying his rest, with a bowl of pink quartz and a new Daring Do book. Wiping the book dust off his nose and sneezing a couple of times, Nick submitted to the summoning, ascending to the round room on the second floor, that was normally used as a living room.
“I am here, Miss Sparkle.” – Twilight turned her head to the stallion and nodded vigorously, inviting him to come closer.
“What’s wrong?” – Our hero approached, cautiously and careful.
“Here’s the formal part: this is your payment for this month…” – a decent pouch of bits was levitated to Hawkri, who accepted it with a courteous gratitude. – “And this is a little bit extra. Let’s call it ‘the premium’.” – Another weighty pouch landed at Hawkri’s saddlebags, complete with a wink from Twilight.
“Twilight, this was totally unnecessary…”
“I insist, Nick. Besides, you can take both Derpy and Cheerilee out. Lemme think… I guess herds are legal all again.” – Twilight grinned sinisterly at Hawkri, and the look on her face made a tiny iceball roll down his spine, leaving myriads of prickly ice needles in its wake.
“Twi, you’re a matchmaker.”
“Objection! – I prefer the term ‘shipper’.” – The unicorn mare made her best puppy dog eyes. Hawkri didn’t bought that, nodding his disapproval.
“And besides, you can always use some extra bits, right? When have you last just enjoyed yourself?”
“Err… When Sunny called me ‘daddy’ for the first time?” – Hawkri fired haphazardly – and hit the bull’s eye.
An immediate “D’awwwww~!” was simply unbearable.
However, our hero managed to survive – and even save the sentient mind, which was an important feature.
“Okay, and what’s the ‘informal’ part?” – asked Nick impatiently.
Twilight stopped “d’awwww”-ing and turned serious:
“I wanted to talk to you about something I’ve noticed. Last week I’ve been observing the stars for my new article, and noticed something feathered, sitting on the highest peak of the Canterlot mountain.”
“With such telescope like you have? I’d have seen the flea on the stray dog, beg your pardon.” – harrumphed Nick.
“I appreciate the good humor, Nick, but this is rather serious. It was cloudy, so I couldn’t have made it clear, but one thing was pretty obvious – this… thing was bigger than any Pegasus I know of.”
“And what about Roid Rage?” – Hawkri shuddered at the memory of bulging eyes and overworked musculature, complete with underdeveloped, tiny wings. He said so – and regretted it, seeing the look on Twilight’s face. However, he mused further, this “midget wings” were good enough to lift that hulk in the air, which was really strange itself.
“Yeah, sorry, that was stupid. But still, what’s rustling my jimmies is the fact that the Hegemony sent a spy? A Griffin, for Gods’ sake?”
“Maybe.”
“Twilight, listen to yourself. What Griffin has the eyesight sharp enough to see that far and through the clouds? If I am not mistaken, Canterlot is a good eight hours of train ride, even taken the express one and a straight way?”
“I don’t know…” – the scholar pony’s ears drooped down in defeat. – “What I want to say is that you shall take care. We do not know who is digging at us, and we shall apply as much security as we can.”
“Well, tell me about it…” – Hawkri smirked nastily, rolling his shoulders and feeling the satisfying cracks.
***
Hearts Warming Eve was at full blossom – the fireplace hummed loudly, the meal was done with and all the ponies – including Cheerilee – sat in front of the bonfire, listening to the story of the first Hearts Warming Eve in the history of Equestria, when Commander Hurricane of Pegasi, Chancellor Puddinghead of Earth Tribe and Princess Platinum of the Unicorns all claimed the land of Equestria the home of their tribes – collaborating and living in pure peace together.
Hawkri, who was chosen by the quorum to narrate the history, put his everything into it. His voice rocketed upwards at the tense moments and fell down dramatically when the things turned out grim; he reenacted the harsh, raspy voice of Commander Hurricane, the old army brat, and the doubtful, meek speech of Private Pansy, was being reasonable as Clover the Clever and Smart Cookie, he put on the bubbly, foolish demeanor of Chancellor Puddinghead and arrogant, snobby tone of Princess Platinum. The further the story was getting, the more he felt that he was engaged into it, the more he felt his adherence to it – and the shining foals’ eyes were his best reward.
Once he finished reading the story and closed the book, silence hang for a moment – and everypony in the room just burst out applauding.
“You’re a natural narrator, Nick. I give you an “A-plus” in Stage Play.” – giggled the slightly inebriated Cheerilee, winking at our hero.
“Yes, it was indeed awesome!” – Derpy agreed, beaming at Hawkri. – “The truly Hearts Warming Eve it is, right, girls?”
Foals all nodded their approval vigorously, filling Nick with the filling of pure joy.
However, the counter in the darkest and most secluded corner of his mind ticked grimly: don’t forget! Don’t forget! Don’t forget…
It was dark now, and only the glowing embers in the fireplace lit the living room. Still, there was no real light – it was pure undissolved darkness in here, but no one seemed to mind – not Hawkri. He was laying on the couch with a bottle of Berry’s finest vine, trying to get totally wasted – and never he could have achieved that. The further this was getting, the more complicated shit turned out to be. Alcohol was slowly creeping through his blood to his brain, making the ceiling swirl a bit and ripple, like a circles on the water.
“Вот что мне делать-то?” – he asked out loud, taking another tall drink from the bottle and sitting down on the couch. – “Что, блядь, мне делать-то? Как поступить, чего выкинуть?” – Of course, walls were silent, much to his irritation. So, cursing and blurting something purely unintelligible, drunk man grabbed another bottle of vine and went to his room, stumbling at every step and pending all over the place. However, his stride soon went back to normal, and he grabbed the leather-bound book from the nightstand with grim clarity in his brain.
A momentary hesitation – and he went downstairs, throwing the bottle and the book into his bag. Jumping into the shoes and dressing was a momentary issue, and the door thump behind his back greeted Nick to the chilly night.
After the long mindless stalking all around the Ponyville, he ran into the small lakeside park, which was to his drunken mind the best place to settle and drink and read. Plopping down on the bench and making himself comfortable, lighting another cigarette from his drainless stock, Nick produced a bottle and the book. The darn book that planted seeds of hesitation in his mind, and that was the only way to see if there was anything he needed to know of.
Taking a long sip, he opened the book where he had previously bookmarked it and began reading.
It was a long dialogue between the author and some other man, where the first was convincing the latter that any information should first be doubted - while his opponent was arguing that if there is a position he can agree to, he would just accept it.
The whole dialogue took about ten spreads, and the sly, inquisitor-like arguments of the author finally made the opponent admit that he was right. The whole argument was like a strange river – that gave the beginning to many other rivulets and creeks, which in the end joined with the original stream, no matter how long or how wide did they spread.
“Бля, умный же однако я тип…” – grinned Hawkri, finishing off the vine and already feeling heavy to his eyes. It was rather freezing outside, and the numbing cold was already creeping under Nick’s jeans – but he never minded.
“Ну в пизду его все…” – the out-cold drunk Hawkri stirred his way back to his feet, balancing on his feet and trying to stop the earth under his feet from collapsing and going all merry-go-round-ish on him. Lighting another cigarette and spitting the bitter gooey saliva – he nearly poisoned himself with nicotine; that was the pretty obvious sign – he grinned foolishly to the empty space above the lake.
“Shift!” – and, obedient to his words, the view of the world changed. The white, blank landscape now turned into the abstract picture, where all the known and unknown colors and hues mingled together, dissipated one into another and flown all around, enveloping Hawkri in their blissful rainbow.
“Gheeeee~” – the sound of idiotic glee escaped our hero’s mouth, and the sound itself had the taste and the smell – it smelled like the alcohol fume and tasted the same, so Hawkri just shrugged that off and waved a hand, beholding the effect in the Ethereal.
Soon, however, the pent up feelings in him broke the ice shell of self control and erupted, like a volcano, in a sheer, pure, uncontrollable rage.
“FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK!!!” – With each yell Hawkri was sending the enormous amounts of psychokinetic energy into the ice-sheltered lake. His fingers, bent into the complicated Sign, were disobeying the brain and magic kept flowing and flowing, provoking cascades of water to erupt like volcanic magma jets, freezing immediately into the dubious statuesque constructs. The exceeding pressure was bending the trees low, as if there was a hurricane, and the amounts of chaos were simply unimaginable.
“What do I have to do?..” – whispered our hero, feeling the liquid streaming down his cheek and freezing momentarily. The ethereal landscape around was just freaking out, turning from the slow and peaceful cycle of changes into bizarre and ominous one; however, before something terrible could’ve happen, Hawkri shook his head and shifted back to his own eyes. The next surge of magic, enough to smash the stone wall to pieces, only launched the bottle towards the ice sculpture in the middle of the lake. The leftover vine tinted the clear ice with carmine red, giving the whole construct a grim and threatening feature.
“This cannot be happening…” – murmured our hero, astonished with the side he beheld. He was feeling like the one who had experience the amok – as if the curtain fell, and he had seen the chaos he brought.
Unable to believe his own eyes, he dropped to his knees, boring hands deep into the snow and clawing into it; his breath as ragged gasps, his eyes brimmed with red and he was sweating bullets – at the temperature of minus thirty Celsius.
The counter stopped ticking. Alcohol and the unexpected outrage complete with the redemption washed it out, and, when the stars on the sky began to go dim, Hawki raised from his kneeled posture, heading back home in a single-eyed gait.
Now he had known what to do.
***
Two weeks passed rather quickly. Sunny and Dinky both went to school after the winter break, Derpy was getting better and Hawkri simply kept his head low. He had learnt his lesson, and had no intention to repeat that dubious pleasure.
He was just about to leave the library, when the doorbell rang. Sighing, he went down with a smile to see Cherry Garden, the artist pony that lived almost next door.
“Hidy ho, neighbor – what can I do for you?” – Our hero smiled to the newcomer, taking his position behind the counter.
“Ugh, yes, hello. I need a dream-book. A couple of them, to compare.” – Cherry glanced around, as if expecting to see somepony or someone else – but the library was totally devoid of any life rather than Hawkri and Owloviscious. But the wise bird was sleeping soundly up on the first floor, while Hawkri was already scanning the shelves.
“Yes, here it is. One is the “Night Visions And The Messages Of Them”, and here’s also “Dreams And Dreamscape”, edited by Princess Luna herself.” – he handed both books to the mare, who quickly filled the forms and waited until Hawkri did the same.
“Good luck in your research, Cherry.” – The mare just nodded shortly and left in a brisk pace.
“Looks like she’s got more important stuff to do, ain’t she?” – smirked Hawkri, arranging the blanks and checking the interior for any odds. Satisfied with the result, he locked the doors and left, whistling a cheerful tune.
His path was squirming, like a snake, which basically meant that he had to do some stops. First thing on his list was the bookstore, since the new Daring Do novel was already issued and the autograph session was held. So, he thought, Sunny and Dinky would appreciate the present. So he grabbed two copies of the book, paid the price and turned to the table where the autograph session was held – and what he had seen made his jaw drop to the floor.
There was a great queue, which emerged in the matter of seconds – while he was paying for the books! What in the name of all the Hell’s princes?!
Grunting, Hawkri scanned the crowd of ponies. Of course, there was Rainbow Dash, bouncing on the place like an excited filly, which was pretty strange to see, granted that she was the “coolest mare in all of Equestria after Daring Do”. Oh, man, this was supposed to be a long way – through thorns to the stars, they say.
After a momentary hesitation, Hawkri experienced the feeling of a light bulb above his head. Grinning slyly and feeling the twitch of his amulet, he built a complicated Sign with his fingers and pushed both his hands down, as if forcing down some piston.
In the best situation, the charm was supposed to grant him some kind of illusive cloak that was designed to help him evade the blows. But instead he just got a decent electric shock. Once he was done throbbing like a moron and stuttering the curses through gritted teeth, our hero scowled and puffed out his mandible, putting on the look of some stubborn caveman. Shifting his eyes to the “wrack-o-chaos” mode, he repeated his exercise. This time this worked. He made his way, invisible, through the thick crowd of ponies in wait and emerged right before Rainbow Dash, who was too overjoyed to look around. Dispelling the “W-o-C”, he just popped out to existence right in front of the desk, leaving Dash behind, much to her wrath and dismay.
“Whom is this book to?” – asked Daring Do, the adventurer, grabbing the quill.
“This one is for Sunrise Glitter, and this is for Dinky Doo.” – pointed out Raven Wing with a charming smile. The tired adventurer quickly signed the books and Hawkri, hiding the books into his bag, mentally checked out one point in his checklist.
Next stop was the department store, where he needed some resupply of food. Of course Derpy, who was bored by just sitting back and doing nothing was a great help at household, but even the best chef cannot just make something out of thin air. So Hawkri hightailed to the store, hoping to complete all of his errands before fillies would come home from school – and the choir was also taking a good deal of time, letting our hero some spare time – but still, he had always considered that a healthy filly is a happy filly, and if you’ll feed the child with junk food, nothing good will occur.
Zipping around the store, Hawkri met Applejack and Big Macintosh at the “Garden and home” aisle. After a quick exchange with the greetings AJ asked our hero to drop by Sweet Apple Acres to discuss something. Nick nodded, mentally adding one more point to his checklist.
Striding past the “Veterinary and pet care” aisle he waved hello to Fluttershy, who was seemingly resupplying on animal food. The timid Pegasus did not hid behind her mane, but returned the greeting, which was already a good sign. Nevertheless, Hawkri felt a sharp sting of regret – he remembered of all the episodes of his simply foul attitude towards the Element of Kindness.
Carrying a bag of purchased goods, our hero lit a cigarette and checked again with what was left for him. It looked like this was the only thing left – he needed to drop by Rarity’s boutique and claim his order…
***A week earlier***
That morning our hero, waking up early, as usual, found himself in a rather inconvenient situation. His pants were nearly falling apart, and he was in no position to deal with it. So, armed with a needle and pulling the glasses to the top of his head, he began patching them up. The whole process took the better part of the morning, and now his garment resembled a flurry of Technicolor patches and rough seams, which basically was not that bad – disappointing, rather. He looked like a jester to himself, and was in no position to deal with it, granted that the disguise spell never let the common ponies see his ‘true’ self.
So, he went to the only pony who could help him with the issue – Rarity. It took a lot of mangrit and willpower to withstand the incoming torrent of fabulous ideas and to convince the fashionista that all he had needed was a simple plain pants. No gems, no embroidery – just jeans.
After a couple hours spent in arguments and sketching the patterns, Rarity sighed in defeat and nodded her agreement, levitating the measuring tape and making her measures. Unfortunately, she had to stare back at the mirror all the time for the sake of measuring exactly Hawkri, not Raven Wing, so it took quite a time.
Feeling like being presented to the whole assortment of the Seven Circles of Hell, Hawkri finally breathed a release and waved goodbye to Rarity, dashing away from the boutique as fast as his legs could get him – and a little more.
***
“Rarity, I’m here!” – called out our hero, cautiously stepping into the main parlor of the boutique. He had heard the muffled sound of sewing machine, which meant that miss Rarity Belle was currently too engaged in her work to condescend to mundane needs. Using that rare virtue of silence, Nick strode around the boutique, gazing in awe at the ensembles on display. Glittering gems and flowing silks made his head feel funny, and Nick backtracked a bit, shaking off his amusement. This was a confession: he was a down-to-earth kind of guy, not a grand society type. And he was okay with that.
“Rarity!” – he called out again, hearing that the machine clutter muted.
“Coming!” – came the response, and very soon the fashionista unicorn gracefully trotted down the stairs, looking at Hawkri atop her working glasses.
“Ah, Hawkri, what a pleasure to meet you today…” – she drawled, rolling her eyes and pressing a forehoof against her head. The hint behind the greeting was “You have committed a crime against the fashion! And there be no mercy!”
“Erm, hello?” – Nick waved at her sheepishly; he felt like the third-grader in front of the strict principal.
“Your order is done.” – the seamstress informed the man, huffing her disapproval with his choice of garments. She trotted off to the stand in the farther corner of the boutique and rummaged through the hangers, pausing sometimes for a brief second to inspect the tag. – “Here it is. The fitting rooms are all there.” – the white unicorn motioned the direction with her hoof, levitating the neatly folded and ironed garment to Hawkri.
“Thanks, Rarity, I’ll be right back.”
Jeans fitted like a glove: neatly and a bit baggy, the way Hawkri loved it. Spinning in front of the mirror, he noticed a small thing: the stubborn Rarity made some embroidery on the pockets. Oh well, it seemed nice and matched the ensemble, though, so let it be.
“Rarity, this is wonderful.” – claimed Nick, clambering out of the alcove and tugging his new pants up a bit. It looked as if the Raven Wing was tugging at the lap of his newly seamed vest.
“Indeed, it looks good on you, I have to admit.” – sighed the seamstress, levitating a mirror to herself and trotting around Hawkri to see how well the fruit of her work sit. – “Nice flank you have there.”
Hawkri felt the blush rush to his face and shielded his butt with his hands, stuttering the meek “Thanks~”. The awkward situation required discarding, and Hawkri could do no better than ask:
“How much do I owe you, Rarity?”
The unicorn pony seemed shocked – as if he had just been spitting out profanities at all that she held dear.
“You owe me nothing! This is for the best!” – Rarity’s eyes began to well up with tears, and this time it was not all drama queen stuff.
Hawkri, you’re such a dimwit.
Once the boutique business was sorted out and wild-eyed Hawkri rocketed outside, new jeans folded neatly in the bag, it was the time to go home. Girls were about to come home from school, and he was going to be ready for it.
The door creaked on its hinges, adding one more point to Nick’s mental checklist: oil the hinges. Derpy, who was already feeling good enough to walk, stepped to the hall with a smile:
“Hey, look who’s back home. How’s it been?”
“You’ll laugh. I’ve tricked Rainbow at the autograph session, met good half of Ponyville at the store and almost got my brain blasted at Rarity’s. This is the quick conclusion.” – deadpanned Hawkri, while zipping across the kitchen and making a dozen of actions at once: unpacking the food, setting out the kitchen appliances, starting a fire and so on, and so on. Derpy sat on her haunches on the threshold, admiring the view of a small grey blizzard, ravaging across the room. She knew that when Hawkri was acting like this it was dangerous to mess with him – too much velocity was in his actions, and his limbs were just a bit too long to approach him safely.
“Uh, yes, I totally forgot – we need more firewood.” – Ditzy piped up.
“Okay then…” – our hero turned the information around for a second, calculating the possibilities. It looked like the stock they had was enough not for long – so he had to take a hatchet and take off to the forest to get some more. Duh.
“Okay, I’ll get to it while it’s not too dark here. Can you take care of the dinner?” – rummaging through the tools locker, Hawkri tested the blade of the hatchet with his finger and was satisfied with the result.
“Sure! I see you’ve got some blueberry. Gotta be muffins today…” – Derpy smirked coyly, winking knowingly.
Gods! The wonderful rich scent of fresh-baked pastry erupted in the mind of our hero, who had a soft spot for this particular kind of pastry.
“You are such a tease. You know that?” – already harnessing himself in the sledge, snided Hawkri.
“That would be a good stimulus, huh? Take care.” – waved Derpy, fastening the apron.
***
The rhythmic thumping of steel against the tree trunk resonated deeply under the forest canopy, silencing all the other sounds – the rhythmic staccato of woodpeckers, foxes’ yaffing and the shuffle of the branches in the wind. It was still winter, and earth was seemingly glazed with snow, reflecting the last rays of Sun, coloring the white blanket on the roofs of Ponyville in deep, rich hues of red. Wiping the sweat off his brow and lighting another cigarette, Hawkri looked at the fruits of his labor: the sledge were almost full of firewood, which would be a good spare. But this here last pine was not the one to give up that easily – even though the axe had already taken out half the girth of its trunk, it stood proud and tall, as if saying “Fuq u, I am so way older then you and no whelp like yourself will bring me down”. Hawkri respected such position, but he was one determined guy, and, throwing the cigarette butt away, he swung his axe for the last time, complete with a low, growling war cry – and the terrific, bone-shattering blow finally reached the target. Moaning and seemingly sighing in defeat the pine crushed to the earth, filling our hero with the feeling of long-deserved triumph.
Cutting the tree to pieces and getting rid of the branches never took too long, and Nick was intended to get back home before the first stars would appear – back to the blazing fireplace, warm cider and hot food, back to Sunny’s shining eyes and jingly voice. So, harrumphing and groaning, he dragged the heavy-laden sledge down to his place, humming some march-like song.
All this sorted out, our hero locked the firewood shed and, stomping the snow off his boots, entered the house. The scents of the food wafted into his nose, and his stomach grumbled in an irritated way, so he made it quick with the undressing.
Once he was out of the bathroom, drying hands with a towel, he had seen Sunny walking to him with a disappointment on her muzzle.
“Hey, what’s wrong, little Grand Master?” – smiled Hawkri, tossing the towel to the hamper and crouching to be closer to his “daughter”.
“Daddy, am I special?” – she asked with a tears in her voice.
“Of course you are, my little Sunshine. And why would you ask?”
“Today at school the older fillies, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, picked at me. They said I was a blankflank, and that I am not special without a cutie mark…” – Sunny’s voice trembled on the verge of crying, and Hawkri embraced the filly, dragging her gingerly closer to himself:
“Now, now, Sunny… It’s just some arrogant fillies, who think they’re better than anyone else if they have a cutie mark. And listen to me now…” – our hero gingerly lifted the filly’s head, putting two fingers under her chin. – “Having a tiara-like cutie mark means what? That you’re obliged to wear a tiara for yer whole life? Or that you have a taste for jewellery? Sound ridiculous to me! Or a silver spoon? The talent of being a spoiled child? Don’t make me laugh!”
Sunny’s face brightened up a bit: “And me, daddy? What’s my talent?”
“Time will tell, my dear child. For me, you are the most special filly of all. You are strong, beautiful, smart and what’s more important – you excel them all in nobility. That’s what I have for you to know.” – Nick planted a small kiss at the filly’s forehead, hugging her gently. Sunny clutched closer to her step-father, returning the embrace:
“Thank you, daddy. You’re the best. Thank you.”
Hawkri smiled to his step-daughter, waving her off:
“Now go, Sunny. Ditzy has it all set and hot, so you’d better eat and then you’ll tell us what interesting was there today.”
“Okay, daddy!” – And a happy foal skipped away to wash her hooves, while Hawkri shuddered at the sudden gust of cold wind. His heart felt cold, and his ears were filled with the voice of Green Fields:
“Thank you, Nick Hawkri. You have proved yourself to be a good man, despite all odds.”
Dead words, transmitted on the dead frequency – but he wasn’t hearing things. It was just too good to accept that as a reason.
***
Saturday morning, marking the first day of the weekend, so needed, greeted Nick with a terrible headache and moaning bones. Stirring on the couch, he grumbled and opened eyes, blindly reaching for his glasses.
“Если бы это было похмелье…” – after this small lament our hero raised his sorry carcass, stretching a bit and feeling, how the blood rushed to his limbs, preparing him for the coming day. The morning rituals of washing-shaving-et cetera didn’t took too long, and Nick was thinking of paying attention to the last, but not least part of it – cup of coffee, first, sweetest cigarette and a good read to cover it up.
Alas, the yesterday’s magic practice at Twilight’s cellar effectively prevented him from doing so – at least, the caffeine and nicotine part. The first sip of coffee along with the first, genuine, best ever drag made him cough and spit, swear and grumble. It was not only the unusually bitter taste, tangling at his mouth – but the idea itself of letting something that vile into his organism.
“Stupid lousy goddamn witchcraft…” – grumbled Nick, pulling a bottle of milk from the icebox and pouring some into his coffee, mercilessly wasting the rich scent and taste, trying to trick his oversensitive taste buds.
It worked – partially. The noble drink, even spoiled with the milk, felt like raw tar, poured into his resisting stomach. Looked like today no indulgence to bad habits, sir Nick, he snided at himself with a sigh. However, no one depraved him of the good read, so, taking the pitcher of a cider, he landed at the armchair, opening the Liber Colloquii where he left it.
The reading was, lest to say, not really pleasant – the nagging sense of messing with his own future was there to stay, but Hawkri just waved it off. I’ll answer for the conclusions, and now I simply must read it from cover to cover, once it is now at my possession, he concluded. That was some twisted logic, but that was just Hawkri.
Leaving his place for a quick visit to the restroom, he stole a glance at the mirror. Good gracious, this needs a haircut. The tangled, messy locks looked like a crow’s nest, safe for the decent length of his coiffure – this could not last. After struggling with the stubborn hairbrush and styling the whole mess into a simple ponytail, Hawkri sat down and began thinking.
He could use his knife and do himself a makeshift haircut – but better then that he could just have his head shaved. This was certainly not an option, since his own look somehow transferred to the look of Raven Wing. And the skinhead version of Raven Wing would rather not look nice, he presumed.
So, assessing all the options available, our hero decided to make it the easiest way: visit the barber’s shop. And pay it a little bit more, if need be – to ensure the mutual benefit of the silence.
“Just as planned…” – he smirked, linking the tips of his fingers together and slightly bending his shoulders down. However, the moment of joyous triumph was not long – the burnt arms reminded of themselves, as Hawkri was hissing and jumping to relieve the pain, before he came with the wonderful idea to put both limbs into the snow.
Prickly crystals sent small pulses of pain through the nerves, but with their primary objective they’ve dealt well – Hawkri stopped skipping around like a moron and breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at the memories of the last day…
***
“Lift your hands a bit! Just like that… Yes, like this.” – nodded Twilight, checking with the weighty volume.
“Twilight, can you explain once again – what is this supposed to do? The Magic, 101, dummies edition?” – Carefully inquired Nick, feeling a bit awkward.
“Sure. Now, what you’re going to learn is an adapted somatic processing of the magic shielding spell.” – Seeing the hesitation in Hawkri’s eyes, Twilight sighed and explained it even easier:
“Since you are lacking a horn, I have to adapt the spells for your limbs. But the principle is the same – you focus your mind, let the mana flow and shape it.”
“The way I do with fire?”
“Quite like so, yes, but that is another thing. Pyrokinesis, amongst other, is also fueled with the emotions – the strong ones. Be it anger, sorrow or love – they all contribute. When you’re calm and relaxed, can you cast a fireball?”
“Yes.” – smiled Hawkri, demonstrating his skills.
The sphere of flame at the size of a foot ball danced above his open hand, shrinking and inflating, as if pulsing.
“It is… impressive.” – admitted Twilight, dispelling the fireball. – “But what is the most peaceful use of the pyrokinesis?”
“Well, I use it for starting the fire in the fireplace and in the stove… also to light a cigarette…” - Hawkri began to bend fingers in thought.
“Okay, we’re off topic. Now, what I want you to do is to practice this charm and then we’ll test it.” – Twilight emerged the shielding dome of indigo light above them, leaving some room between herself and her student. This all felt like some magical sparring – and Hawkri was in no position to lose it. If he’d lose – his remnants would fit into the matchbox. With plenty of room left. So he exhaled, concentrated and crossed his forearms in front of his chest, as Twilight told him to. The familiar buzzing and twitching of the amulet told him, that the process started, and Twilight nodded here approval.
“Very good. Watch the mana flow – or you’ll exhaust yourself too early!”
Easier said, than done, Miss Smartypants – I don’t even have the idea of what ‘mana’ is, snickered Hawkri to himself. Well, he did, in theory, but there was no way for him to keep track on it, as well as to control its flow.
All he felt is the torrent of raw magical energy, coursing up and down through his forearms, tickling the elbow joints and sending electrical joints inside the wrists.
“Now hold this position! I am going to attack you with the psychokinetic charm, similar to your own!” – warned Twilight, flaring up her horn.
Hawkri got set and ready, digging his feet into the floor. Ready-set-G…
The taut force pushed its way through him, though the anti-magic charm did its work – he was not smashed into the wall, rather just plopped to his butt, hissing and rubbing the offended part.
“First time is no time! Except, you did better, then I thought. You actually absorbed the energy, rather than deflecting it. This is interesting. But well done!” – Twilight smiled gently, helping our hero up with her telekinesis.
“Thanks, professor. So, we have a training to do, right? What’s next?”
Something manic blinked in Twilight’s eyes.
“Your favourite.”
“Don’t say that…” – colors drained from Hawkri’s face, and his pony persona drooped his ears in utter terror.
“Fireballs. ”
***
So, better late, then never – Hawkri had finally learnt to use the shield charm, effectively deflecting the offensive spells and using the illusion charm to dodge the physical attacks, which were meant as the hurling of various pretty heavy objects at him.
After all, burnt arms were not so much of a charge for this kind of knowledge. What was left is practice. And, bandaging the limbs with some medical bandages he had found, Hawkri considered that this was not a bad idea, really. But the need to have a haircut gone nowhere. So he packed his gear and trotted off to the nearest barber’s shop.
***Meanwhile, back at the house number 15, Meadow Lane***
Sunrise Glitter woke up late. It was Saturday, and she could afford herself some relaxation. Opening her eyes and smiling to the rays of the winter sun, filtering through the closed curtains, she stretched with a sweet, deep yawn. After yawning a couple of times more, she adjusted the pillow and levitated the new Daring Do book from the nightstand – the one with the autograph. She was jumping with joy, squealing like a foal, when Nick, coyly smiling, presented them – her and Dinky – the copies of the book, with the hoofwritten autograph of A.K. Yearling, the Daring Do herself! This book was the greatest treasure, and it was even more fun that Nick – her daddy – pulled the leg of Rainbow Dash, the fastest flyer and the biggest fan of Daring and got the autographs BEFORE she did. Sunny laughed her tail off when she heard that, together with the Doo sisters.
The new, long-expected novel amused here. There was everything – intricate plot, action, adventure, complicated riddles and deadly traps, and of course, the malevolent Ahuizotle, the arch nemesis of Daring! This time they’ve been struggling for the Feather of Quetzalcoatl, the mythic godlike creature – presumably the progenitor of Pegasi tribe, speculated Sunny – the feathered snakepony, who was capable of controlling the weather and therefore was worshipped.
The urge to go downstairs caught Sunny right in the middle of the especially amazing moment – when Daring Do was crawling her way through the lost and forgotten pyramid city deep underground, hiding from the Ahuizotle’s minion felines. She needed to reach the Feather first, unless she wanted the bad guy get it and claim his control over the world – presumably, again. So, she left the book after the short hesitation and made a beeline for her needs.
After all done, the filly was already anticipating the return under the warm blanket to accompany Daring in her quest, when something slithered its way to her attention. It was the leather-bound book, laying on the couch, with gilded runes and a strange snakelike symbol, embossed on the cover. It was attracting the filly, like a magnet attracts the nail, all her attention was now transfixed to it.
Carefully approaching the tome, Sunny poked it with her hoof. Nothing happened – the book remained as inert, as it should have been, and Sunny sighed a release. It was just a book, and it is most possible that Nick left it here – he was sleeping on the couch since offering Derpy his bedroom – such a gentlecolt he is, thought Sunny with a hint of pride for her step-father.
However, the book still was the center of her Universe now. She was hearing the almost inaudible, on the verge of audacity – its whisper. It came in some unknown, dark language – but it sounded so tempting. So… irresistible. Paralyzing the will and dominating the mind. So, the filly took the book and opened it.
For the first seconds she tried to comprehend the strange, angular signs on the pages – but then they began shifting, molding into something… new. Not the lines of text, but the image…
The last thing Sunrise Glitter remembered was the terrible pressure inside her head – she cried out, her horn blazing with immense power – and then the conscious mind mercifully left the poor filly.
House number fifteen on the Meadow Lane was empty – Doo sisters went to the hospital, Hawkri was making his hair, so nobody had witnessed the tornado of out-of-this-world powers, ravaging the insides of the house.
***
Someone may claim that he or she has no trust in higher powers – the world is ruled by the laws of logic, or physics, of any other matter – but here even the most stubborn and perseverant atheist would put his own beliefs to the doubt.
In the light of the day, setting her pace to the brisk canter, Cheerilee was coming back home for something she had totally forgotten – her hallmark bathrobe, because no trip to sauna with her old friends would be good enough without it.
She was pretty much immersed in her thoughts, so she had never spotted the strange transparency of the ground floor of Sunny’s house. It looked somewhat hazy, appearing boldly and then seemingly dissipating into nothingness in the matter of seconds, and the windows were bright with the flashes of outsider light.
Only Gods know, what could have happen, if the fallen ceramic statuette would not have attracted Cheerilee’s attention. Frowning a bit, she averted her gaze to find out the source of this tragic downfall – and froze in her tracks, befuddled with the sight present to her eyes.
All the bathrobes were instantly forgotten – and, bucking the door open (the door screeched protesting and flew off its hinges), Cheerilee galloped as fast as she could to the Sunny’s house. She had no idea, what on the Earth was going on, but she knew that Sunny’s in danger.
She wasted no time fiddling with the gate, so she just jumped over the fence, her muscles almost ripping apart with the tension. There it is – the front door!
Gaining more speed, Cheerilee planted an earth-shaking slam to it, using all the speed and velocity she had accumulated, complete with her inherent Earth tribe strength. She was expecting to hear the crack of splintering wood, but her heart chilled as she understood that this blow came wasted: the house was disappearing all again.
Despair took the best of her, and Cherilee slammed at the door with her whole body, ramming against it with wild fervor. The only thought dominated her mind: whatever there is, she should get Sunny out of here.
Finally the heavy door subsided to the feverous onslaught of the despaired mare, and the locks, letting out the last sigh of defeat, flew inside the house, letting the door open wide. Cheerilee rushed in like a maroon blizzard, never minding the splinters and cuts, and scanned around for the filly. There she was – floating inches above the floor, horn flaring with immense energies, and the whole tiny frame radiating an ominous, unholy light, that shed no shadows – instead, it was showing some terrible, warped silhouettes, shifting permanently from form to form.
“Sunny!!” – Cheerilee tried to call her, but she never managed to outcry the howling and bellowing whirlwind, that was now the house. She tried again, on top of her lungs – and again of no avail.
The interior of the house kept changing by the minute – she had seen the totally strange places, crowded with people – they were fighting, arguing or just having meals in restaurants; the familiar house interior emerged from this delusion and disappearing all again, showing the astonished mare new and new episodes.
After beholding a scene of some terrible fight, where armored humans charged at each other, wielding swords, axes and shields, yelling their war cries and clashing at each other like a tide wave against the rock – she had noticed Hawkri’s face in the thick of fight – lost his helmet, red-eyed, he was pummeling his opponent with the rim of his shield, sending him down beaten and unconscious before planting a bone-shattering sword blow at the helmet of another foe, wielding the broad axe – Cheerilee finally managed to shake off the amusement and tried to reach for Sunny. This, hovewer, proved to be truly a challenge – her hooves felt like she was stuck in a bog, and every step was a true exertion.
Inch by inch, pace by pace, the mare finally made it to the foal, breath coming in ragged huffs, blood trickling from her wounds and her eyes transfixed to the tiny figure that was the center of this whole mayhem – and with the single desperate leap, which took all the strength she had left, she scooped Sunny in her forelegs before crash landing to the floor.
Once her body collided with the floor, the radiance subsided immediately, and the house restored its natural look.
“It’s okay, Sunny, dear… Cheerilee is here…” – she whispered to the sobbing foal, cradling her in her hooves and burying her muzzle in the satin-soft mane of a filly, Cheerilee closed her eyes in relief.
“Mommy is here…” – she whispered with her lips only.
***
“Looks just dandy, thanks, Clean Cut.” – Hawkri glanced at his new haircut, positively pleased with the outcome. Clean Cut, the aging unicorn stallion, nodded and smiled:
“Mighty glad ye’r enjoyin’ my work, chap.” – he put the scissors to the drawer and undid the laces of the apron for Hawkri.
“Now, we have a deal, right?” – a weighty bits pouch changed owners, and Clean Cut smiled knowingly:
“Sure as sugar, mate. I’ll be as silent as the ole good grave.”
“Good. Well then, good luck!”
“Come again!” – with a short nod, Hawkri left the barber shop, inhaling the crispy air deeply. The day was great – the sunshine turned the snow in the cover of diamonds, and it looked like the winter had decided to object its namesake as the ‘dead season’ – birds chirped cheerfully, and even the bare trees looked like covered in shiny diamond cloth.
Licking involuntarily, our hero decided that this wouldn’t hurt to visit Sugarcube Corner and get a small treat for his “herd”, as he was humoring to himself. Said meant done, and in no time Nick was already ascending the steps of bakery, puffing a small cloud of smoke before throwing the half-finished cigarette away. The nasty feeling from yesterday’s magical workout was there to stay, so Hawkri decided not to push his luck too far and rather not to find out how bad could it turn out.
Leaving the bakery with a box of finest éclairs and a bit disheveled from the small talk with Pinkie, who apparently was in charge of the whole establishment for a while, Nick smiled and strode back home, humming a humorous tune:
“Once the day traded for the night –
I’ve caught an owl and gave a stump a good smite!
And the same for smiting an owl with a stump or a stump with an owl –
Feathers fly all over and I howl!! Woo-hoo-hoo~!”
This could’ve last long, but once our hero planted his foot at the Meadow Lane, he felt something wrong – his guts told him that some serious shit hit the fan. And hoping that this would turn out as a false alarm, he sped up his pace – first to the quick jog, then to the full-blown head-first sprint.
This was not false alert, however – the door seemed like it was rammed through, parts of the lock laying scattered all around and the mechanism itself was almost ripped off from the body of the door. But what was even worse – there was blood all over the place. The crimson path led him to the living room. Hawkri bared his teeth, feeling that the hair on the back of his neck stood on their ends, letting out a low growl.
Necking over the corner, he sniffed something familiar. The scent of petunias and daffodils… Cheerilee’s perfume!
Without the moment’s hesitation, Nick leapt inside, like a giant cat from the ambush, landing right in front of Cheerilee.
“Cheerilee?!”
“Nick?!”
“What…”
“Surge.” – the short word felt like a whiplash. Hawkri stumbled backwards, eyes wide as saucers:
“Tell that again?..”
“Sunny have surged! It… it was…” – unable to hold the shock back for any longer, Cheerilee burst into tears, still hugging Sunrise close to her.
Now it was Hawkri’s turn to embrace both the mare and the filly: “Now, now, Cheers. I am here… How’s Sunny?”
“Look like she blacked out… Hawkri, I was so frightened…”
“Shhh, easy…” – Nick said, comforting the mare. – “Tell me, how did this happened?”
The whole story took about fifteen minutes, and the further it went, the more grim Hawkri’s face grew.
“Охуительно.” – he concluded shortly, lighting a cigarette absentmindedly.
“What do we do now?”
“I know only one mare that could help us. Get set, you’re coming with me…” – Hawkri shuffled through the hamper, looking for his sweater, which Romena knitted for him as a Hearts Warming present. – “Put it on, the weather is pretty cold, while I’ll get a blanket for Sunny. We’re going to Twilight’s place, and you’ll repeat your story. Got that?”
“Sure…” – Cheerilee’s face was wet with tears, but the determined look in her eyes proved her to be the very dependable and strong mare. Despite his own will, Hawkri admired her view for a moment: slender frame, strong legs, silky curls and those wonderful eyes…
“All set?” – he asked, wrapping Sunny warm in the blanket and cradling the filly securely in his arms.
“Let’s go.”
***
Bang-bang-bang!!
“Twilight! Twilight goddamnit Sparkle!! Open the cornsarn door!!” – Hawkri’s fist pummeled hard against the locked library door, making the hinges screech in protest and the glass in the windows tremble with the volume of his voice.
“Hawkri…” – Cheerilee tried to reason him, but of no avail – she would not even try to outmatch him at yelling. The only pony who possibly could give it a try was Princess Luna and her RCV, full throttle.
“TWILIGHT!!!!” – the banging intensified, since the sounds of bolts being redrawn were heard and the sleepy mare stepped out, yawning:
“Raven Wing?.. What has gotten into you to…”
“Sunny has surged.” – those words seemed to wipe any signs of tiredness and sleep from Twilight, who stared at Hawkri’s stone face and then to Cheerilee. After a couple of seconds, spent for the sake of an eye duel, the lavender mare stepped aside with a short “Come”.
While Cheerilee was telling Twilight the story of Sunny’s surge and Hawkri was pacing nervously across the room, Twilight, concentrated and gloomy, activated the diagnostic spell on Sunny. The flare of her horn flashed and subsided, turning into a faded glow, enveloping the tiny body in the indigo aura, collecting information on her stance.
“How’s she?” – snapped Hawkri.
“Fine. She just used way too much mana. But she will restore eventually. She’s a strong filly.” – Twilight wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead, matting her fur and leaving a distinctive line. – “Cheerilee, have you seen anything strange there? Something? Anything… curious?”
The schoolpony immersed in her thoughts. Hawkri could have swear he had just seen the events replaying in her eyes. Minutes ticked away…
“No. Nothing.” – Cherilee shrugged off, drooping her ears.
Twilight grumbled, pacing around the room together with Hawkri:
“This got to be something! This kind of surges would not just appear! There has to be some stimulus…”
“Stimulus…” – mused our hero to himself. Something tickled at the back of his mind, and he tried hard to catch that elusive bastard.
“Stimulus…” – the blurry image emerged atop of his associative marsh – the raven, sitting on the shoulder of a man, whose face was cloaked.
“Stimulus…” – Hawkri gritted his teeth, feeling that he was already close. However, the clopping of Twilight’s hooves against the floor distracted him greatly.
“Twilight, please, sit for a moment.”
“What?”
“I said SIT FOR THE FUCKING MOMENT!!” – befuddled with the sudden outrage, the scholar pony obeyed, sitting quietly near the couch where Sunny was sleeping.
“Thanks!” – barked Hawkri, turning his eyes to the window – and just freezing there, awestruck.
“The book…”
“What book?!” – asked both mares in unison.
“The fuqing Liber Colloquii ! The book I got in Vanhoover, in that crazy library!” – Hawkri clenched his fists: how could he have been so negligent? Even he was influenced with this cursed tome – in fact, he was the one who wrote it in the first place.
“Your book?! The one you’ve written in the existent future?!” – Twilight jumped up to her hooves and shook Hawkri, like a ragdoll. – “Do you even understand what power does it hold?! Especially when we’re talking of Sunny!! Her hibernating potential is now stirring awake!”
“Then what? I’ve tried to burn it – no result! Drowning – no result! Even the burying was in vain!”
“This book is a part of you. And it will exist as long as you do. And if after your death, somepony or someone will find it – this would be just a book. Not the time-space artifact – just a dubious grimoire.”
“So I need to die?”
“Wait a minute – this is ridiculous!” – Cheerilee pushed her way between the two, both glaring daggers at each other. – “This is the most absurd conversation I’ve ever heard! Twilight, this is not about how we’ll deal with the book – it was only the last straw! And Hawkri – stop flipping the shit around! We all care for Sunny, not just you – and we all want to guard her from whatever problems may occur. So, now, excuse each other, and kiss and make up!”
Look like Cheerilee’s scold hit the spot – Hawkri had lost his fervor, as if deflating a bit, and hung his head low:
“I’m sorry, Twilight. This whole… thing… got strong to my head. I feel helpless here and this just drives me nuts.”
“I know that feeling, Nick. And I also beg your pardon for my outrage. This was… foolish.” – sighed Twilight, extending the hoof for a shake. She was, however, unprepared for what followed – instead of a humble hoof/handshake, she was enveloped in a bone-crushing bear hug.
The expression of affection was always a weak point of our hero – he was just a tad bit too good at it. Especially in hugs.
“Air~!!” – wheezed Twilight, flailing her hooves frantically.
“Oh, yeah, sorry…” – the intimidated Hawkri opened his hands, letting the mare slip down, gasping for air and shaking the blur out of her sight.
“Glad you’ve found some peace. So, what do we do now?” – Cheerilee chimed in.
“Well… whew… first of all – I need to write Celestia about that. I supposed she’d know how to deal with this kind of magic problems. Second, Hawkri – the book may cause serious trouble – down to another surge, that is – so keep her away from Sunny’s reach.”
“I don’t seriously think that she’d willingly read it again.” – murmured our hero, locking his hands together and throwing a glance at the sleeping filly.
“We do not know the potential it holds. It is safe for you – because you’ve made it.”
“Speak of the safety…” – smirked Nick, shifting his eyes. Cheerilee gasped, stepping back a bit – she hadn’t seen that yet.
“Uh…Yes…” – Twilight’s ears drooped at the manifestation. – “You said that the librarian called you “Grand Master Septimus”. Anything rings the bell?”
“Septimus” was my nickname, if you’re saying that… Grand Master? Damn me if I know.” – shrugged Hawkri, standing up from the couch and pacing back and forth beside the bookshelves.
“Judging from the nature of the book, it seems that you’ve started some kind of order or, rather, a cult?..” – Twilight guessed.
“The future me, mind you!” – our hero remarked. – “And that doesn’t mean that I will. Future has got a thousands of possibilities, and only the Architect of Fates knows them all…” – saying so, Hawkri froze in his tracks.
“Architect of – what, now?” – Twilight creased a brow, puzzled with the statement.
“Never mind…” – automatically responded Nick, blinking off the image of snakelike rune on the cover of the threefold cursed book.
“Then we have this sorted out.” – concluded Cheerilee. – “In this case, I suppose, we can have some tea.”
***
While the trio was sitting in the kitchen with mugs of hot herbal tea, the heaving silence permeated the air. Everyone in the room was too oppressed to say anything, so they were just sipping the drink silently, barely noticing the taste.
The letter to Princess Celestia was already sent, complete with the suspicious gaze from the woken up Spike. Something told Hawkri that this drake knew exactly, that something was fishy down here. But, much to his honor, Spike wasted no time interrogating the trio – he just sent the letter right away, curled in a ball and fell asleep.
The expectance was heavy. So really heavy, that it was nearly palpable. Cheerilee sat silently, staring into her mug. Twilight was looking away. Hawkri was fiddling with the teaspoon, spinning it in his fingers. The short winter day was hurrying to totally come over, and the first dusk already planted on the land.
“I’ll go outside for a smoke.” – the silent approval left a bitter aftermath, as if something pretty nasty was to come.
And again, Hawkri really, really hoped that his guts would prove wrong.
***Meanwhile in Canterlot Castle***
Princess Celestia, tired with all the paperwork she had to sort out, sighed and rubbed her temples. The migraines were getting worse, and no remedy could help her, so she was just hoping to come it over with a good night’s rest – granted that the winter season was a pure blessing for the solar Princess.
Approving another document, she had noticed the cloud of greenish smoke that incorporated into a scroll. Celestia’s brows rocketed upwards – a letter? From Twilight? This was not the day of her usual report – and such a precisionist as herself was obeying this informal rule with all her heart – so the issue was really, really serious.
Deep inside feeling the joy of distraction from the bureaucratic routine, Celestia unfurled the scroll and began reading. As she was reading, a gentle smile on her face changed with confusion, which melted into fear. Forgetting all the ‘royal boredom’, as her sister put that, she summoned the quill and immediately wrote a response.
The pulsing pain in her head grew only stronger.
***
Throwing away the stub with disgust, Hawkri took a sip from his steaming mug and looked up to the sky. The crown of the tree, which, obviously, was the library, obstructed the view of the sky, but he was still able to see, how the day lets way to the night – the cerulean hues were mingling with the dark-blue ones, struggling and retreating behind the horizon, as the first stars blinked dimly at the velvety skies.
Taking another sip of tea, he heard the loud burping sound and the clatter of hurrying hooves. Instantly, he was inside, all ears:
“What’s it? What had Celestia written to you?”
Twilight read the scroll with a confused look:
“Princess… she tells me to come over to Canterlot. As soon as possible, that is. I don’t get it!”
“Suppose she has something to tell you on this matter, hasn’t she?” – inquired Cheerilee.
“I think so…” – Twilight’s reply was interrupted very harsh – the library door slammed open, and Clock Work dashed inside, gasping for air. The usually dainty stallion looked as if he was escaping something – mane disheveled, eyes wild, chest heaving for air.
“They’re… coming… for her!!” – he wheezed, collapsing to the floor.
Hawkri rushed to the fallen stud, dragging him to the armchair:
“Clock, talk to me! Who are “they”? And they’re coming for which “her”?” – he asked point-blank.
“They are…” – gasped the stallion for air, inhaling deeply. – “They’re coming for Sunrise, Raven. They claim she’s an incorporation of Chaos!”
“Ни хуя себе, струя!” – whistled Nick, his face hardening and fists clenching. – “Who are ‘they’, Clock? Who are the motherbuckers coming after my daughter?!”
“They’re… now setting up at the… square. Somepony called Swift Justice is the head…” – stuttered Clock Work. – “They’ve seen me, and chased – yelling “Witch’s neighbor! The witcher! Get him!’. I’ve barely escaped.”
“Thanks, Clock. Take your time, rest – but stay here. I’ll go there…” – Cheerilee grabbed the sleeve of Hawkri’s overcoat:
“Don’t do this, Hawkri! They’ll spare no mercy!”
“No one messes with my daughter and gets away with it. This fucking numbnuts can shove his accusations up his ass.” – Nick’s face was already impossible to look at – so dark and threatening it was. So he threw a hood over his face and took off, disappearing in the darkness of thickening twilight.
***
The crowd on the square was hard to miss – and our hero had used his chance to get through it. He slithered through the crowd of angry ponies to the fountain, upon which Swift Justice was holding a speech.
Nick’s gaze was transfixed at this Pegasus – robustly built, dappled stallion with one missing eye, which was standing on the brim of the stone bowl of fountain with flared wings and sermonized vertically. Hawkri, however, was too angry to listen to him – he had heard only the pumping of blood in his ears.
Stepping off from the crowd, he raised his voice:
“Swift Justice!”
The zealot stopped his sermonizing and looked at the intruder. Hawkri dropped the hood of his overcoat, so that his opponent could have a better look at him. The arrogant smirk slipped to the stallion’s face, as he raised his voice again:
“Look at him, brethren and sisterhood! This stallion has something to tell me! And do you know him?”
“I do!” – Romena stepped forward, pointing a hoof at Hawkri. – “He’s the step-father of the witch!”
“Romena, how the buck could you say that?! You know Sunny! What the fuq got into you?!” – frenzied Hawkri, grabbing the mare and shaking her, like a ragdoll. She resisted, but somehow half-heartedly.
“What the hell is this about?.. Shift!” – and with the renewed sight, Hawkri had seen the small thread of something, connected with the crown of Romena’s head. The same threads erupted from the minds (which was already undoubted for Hawkri) of everypony on the square – except for Swift Justice, which was the point of meeting for all those arching threads.
“You fucking zealot…” – growled Nick, letting Romena off and turning to Swift. – “Mind control tricks?! What has Sunny did to you, you fucking numbnuts?!”
“Ask them, if you wish…” – the piebald stallion motioned his hoof generously. – “They’ll tell you that…” – however, Hawkri’s fist never left him a chance to finish the sentence. The uppercut was swift, hard and well-placed – the zealot’s hooves lost grip with the bowl, sending him flying, as Hawkri leapt at him, like a bird of prey, obsessed with the single thought – to break every single bone in the body of this motherfucker.
Jumping onto the now grounded opponent, he landed a blow after the blow at the face of his opponent, hammering his head into the pavement. This lasted until the powerful buck to the chest sent him flying across the square, and the chuckling Swift raised to his hooves, with just a slight sway in his step:
“Thee and thy spawn shalt both be banished from this land!” – with those words, he landed a terrible blow across Nick’s face. The latter heard clearly how the teeth clicked, one flying out with a stream of blood and saliva.
“You call yourself Swift Justice? You are nothing but a crazed zealot! The whole Equestria is built with magic! The magic is in the fabric of this world!” – saying so, Hawkri landed a weighty blow with his knee to the chin of his opponent, sending him to the ground. – “And you dare call my daughter a witch?!!” – the blow was accompanied with a flurry of punches, crushing ribs, bruising the intestines, resonating throughout the whole frame of opposing stallion.
The rain of blows never ended, until the beaten up and bleeding Swift Justice hadn’t laid without movement, and Hawkri, standing up, hadn’t spat blood on the snow:
“I’ll show you some witchcraft…” – he promised grimly, summoning a fireball in each hand. They swelled and grew, reaching the size of a cartwheel, and the crowd around backed up to escape the heat.
“Thee shalt be banished from LIFE ITSELF !!” – rumbled Hawkri. – “Сдохни, пидор!!” – fueled with his wrath and bloodlust, the corporate magic rushed forward – to meet the empty place. Right before impact, with some invisible movement, Swift Justice took off to the air, bleeding hard; his coat smoldered and smoking where the heat wave hit it.
While Hawkri stood, awestruck, unable to realize what he had seen, the Pegasus rocketed down at him, planting a monstrous blow to his stomach.
World turned red, as our hero doubled at the force of impact – as if he was hit with the forging mallet at the full swing. He fell to his knees, coughing blood, throwing up – and it looked as if the crowd was only waiting for this signal.
That was terrible to see – the whole herd of ponies, each trying to kick or buck the figure in the center, unnatural rage on their faces and in their movements.
Enjoying the slaughter for a couple of seconds, Swift Justice opened his mouth to say something – but he was suddenly swiped away with some raging force, that sent him across all the square and rammed into the wall of the city hall.
Hawkri, looking more like a dead man, submerged above the crowd of awestruck zombified ponies: his one eye was closed, quickly swelling, but the other was shining with the dangerous gold. He lowered hands, put together in the Sign, and whispered:
“Run fast, run far, motherfucker – or I’ll fucking dine on your bones.”
Swift Justice, raising to his hooves with great effort, somehow heard those words – whispered across the square. He glared at Hawkri and took off, dashing to the night sky.
Our hero smirked, produced a cigarette and lit it. Scanned around – the terrified ponies were clearing from the focus of his only eye – and chuckled:
“Расходимся, народ – нас наебали.”
Then, pulling deep on the cigarette, he stumbled towards the library – triumphator leaving the battlefield of his glory. Beaten, broken – but nevertheless, victorious. And that was the only thing that counted.
It was serenely quiet now, and the snow began falling again, covering the remnants of the fight – hoof and footmarks, blood and broken teeth. The Nature healed itself after the terrible showdown that shook the most basics of winter’s rest.
Far away from Ponyville, Primus smiled sinisterly in his sleep. He licked his beak with a long, black, serpentine tongue, as if relishing at the taste of a delicate spread.
Perfect.
***
“Where’s he? He should have been back already!” – freaked out Cheerilee, thumping a rhythm against the floor with her hoof – with the speed that would put a skilled drummer to the shame.
“Cheerilee!”
“Sorry, Twilight – I just can’t sit here and wait! I’m coming for him!” – just pulling the doorknob, the mare was presented with the view of Hawkri.
“Nick?!”
“Hi, Cheers.” – smiled our hero, before falling face-first into the library.
