Daring Do and The Shapeless Shadow (Help Wanted)

I sat at the barkeep's counter and called him over with the flick of my head.

"Has anypony unusual been visiting?" I leaned over the counter, speaking in a hushed tone. The barkeep shrugged. I rolled my eyes and sighed in annoyance.

I swear they're all like this.

I dropped two bits into the jar labeled "tip" and the barkeep bobbed his head lightly, approving of my "donation." There, he gestured with a subtle nod towards the grey unicorn sitting at the end of the counter farthest from the door.

"How long has he been coming here?" I said. I glanced back at the unicorn I believed was Footloose Flicker and caught him looking at me; deep brown eyes bored into my head, searching for intent. Did he already know?

"He's been a regular for 'bout a week," the barkeep replied.

"What's his story?"

"Says he's just passing through," the barkeep answered.

"Kay," I dismissed the barkeep who returned to polishing his tankards. I stayed where I sat at the counter for a few minutes thinking and congratulated myself. I'd been tracking him down a while, which was difficult considering how often he moved.

He had weird travel habits.

I looked his way again to find him staring out of the corner of his eye as he took a sip of his drink and made no move to conceal it.

I made my final approach. "...Why do you hide?" I asked him, coming up next to him to sit. "You've done some high level stuff. A mage as skilled as yoursel-"

"Cut the crap. What do you want?" Footloose's baritone knife cut through my sentence, shocking me into silence.

He suddenly seemed a lot more grittier to me. You don't hear ponies swear every day.

I sat in staring at Footloose with a "wut" expression as he took a nonchalant sip of his drink while staring at me. "Sorry, that was uncalled for," he apologized. Footloose turned toward the shelves of fine liquor in front of him and let loose a quiet sigh. "What's your name?"

"Daring. Daring Do," I paused, staring at a light scar on his chin, now a reminder that he had a tougher interior. "I was asking my friends if they had time to go on a trip, but they were all genuinely busy. One mentioned you. So I tracked you down out of curiosity...and to see if you would help."

Footloose sipped his hard cider in deep thought before downing the whole glass. "Stronger stuff..." I heard him mumble. "Who told you?"

"She told me to give this to you," I said, retrieving a small parcel from my saddlebags in my teeth. Footloose silently gripped the package with his telekinesis and brought it close.

"Do you have any idea of what it might be?" Footloose examined the package as it spun slowly in this telekinetic grip.

"No," I answered, "I thought I'd be rude to ask."

"So where do you plan on going?" Footloose set the parcel down on the counter.

"Can we discuss this somewhere more private?" I asked.

"The bar's empty," Footloose swept his foreleg around the bar and indeed, there was only five other ponies in the bar, and they looked to full of  to remember whatever they might hear. After all, the bars in Canterlot were only ever half full.

I winced. "Fine." I dropped a small bundle of magically colored negatives showing pages out of a dated, water stained journal in an ancient language onto the polished surface of the wooden counter.

Footloose raised an eyebrow.

"Captain's logs," he mumbled, magicked one of the untranslated photos over to himself. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing.

"One of the more recent entries mentions a large island across the sea that wasn't on their charts," I explained, "They intended to explore it on there own but never got the chance."

"So you're looking for these islands?" Footloose inquired, "How long will the trip be? A month? Maybe four?"

"Three months at the least," I replied.

"Sorry, but I don't have the time, "Footloose shot me down without remorse, "I leave Canterlot within the week."

"I see," I said solemnly, "I understand." I watched as Footloose got up and made for the door with the package in tow.