Chapters The Spiritwood .
An eternally snow-covered region of Northwestern Equestria, sitting comfortably along the borders between Equestria, the Crystal Empire, and the Northlands. Eternally present, the light cloud cover above defied the will of the pegasi, always laying a blanket of fresh, white powder over the land below. The unrelenting snowfall repaired any blemish in the landscape in short order, and yet the snow never seemed to pile up above knee height, creating a broad expanse of pure, white endlessness in every direction. Occasionally, a tree would break the stark white panorama: Evergreens that would soak up what little sunlight that peeked through, providing shelter and food for the few small creatures that made the Spiritwood their home. But far outnumbering the lively green trees were the stunted brown husks of trees, devoid of any green at all. Standing tall over the white ground, their skeletal frames gave a painful reminder that even these normally green, life-bearing trees cannot survive in this frigid land forever.
It was here that Salvage patrolled, accompanied only by the ratcheting and whirring sounds of his mechanical prosthetic leg. His patrol followed a path blazed by the pony before him before the snow could fully fill the depression left in her wake, just as he would blaze a trail for the pony that would follow him some hours later.
For most, it was a miserable and lonely job, but it was necessary to protect Equestria and the Crystal Empire from potential threats from the Northlands. Salvage rather enjoyed it. After losing his leg in the Sombran Uprising, the freedom to walk - and get paid for it - was satisfying. Besides, it put food on the table. And, more importantly, it paid for his mother's medical expenses.
As it goes, regularly having nothing to do but walk tended to give Salvage a lot of time to think. Today was no different, and this evening he was reflecting upon his life.
Salvage had been born over a thousand years ago, before the Crystal Empire was sealed away. Sombra had captured and enslaved his family, but his parents had rebelled and tried to get free. Salvage escaped, but at the cost of his father’s life. For many years, he’d been one of the few ponies who had not been enslaved by Sombra; fighting tooth and hoof in a losing battle for freedom and ultimately paying the price with his leg. Then, without the ability to move as quickly, he’d sacrificed himself to let his friends escape, and let himself get captured. Without his leg, he was useless for Sombra’s usual slave labors and for several months he had endured horrible conditions as Sombra's cronies tried to get information from him.
And in the blink of an eye, a thousand years had passed. Sombra was defeated almost immediately after. Arcano-technology marched onward in the world outside the Crystal Empire’s walls, and for his bravery and sacrifice, Princess Cadance had made him the recipient of an artificial leg from Equestria, in the south. It was an amazing gift that was, for most intents and purposes, just like the leg he had lost.
Yet his leg was also a constant reminder of the world outside the Crystal Empire — the one that had marched on without the Crystal Ponies such as himself. Most of the Empire’s citizens remained insular, living in fear of the world outside that had changed so much, and only rarely would a Crystal Pony travel outside the Empire. The culture shock was just too much.
Salvage glanced at one of the dead tree-husks that sat particularly close to the path as he passed.
Death.
The Crystal Empire’s citizens had all cheated death, in a way. It made him uncomfortable to know that he should have died centuries ago. He didn’t belong here. He was somewhat envious of his mother; death would be coming soon for her.
Salvage stopped walking and turned around, squinting. He had nearly missed something important back there, he was sure of it. He focused intently on the surrounding landscape. It didn't take long to find the oddity, a sizable area of torn up snow against the rest of the undisturbed white, flecked with spots of brown, green, and red. Whatever this disturbance was, it must have been done by a large creature; far larger than the usual denizens of the Spiritwood.
He set off toward it, happy to have something else to occupy his thoughts. As he approached, his enthusiasm quickly sobered; the brown and green spots he'd seen in the distance were the shattered remains of a nearby tree. Something had violently crashed through the tree, snapping it like a twig, trunk and all. And it was rapidly becoming obvious that the red was blood-stained snow.
When he reached the tree, he discovered a wide, bloody trail with large, catlike footprints leading away, listing from side to side as if the creature could not walk straight. It meandered roughly toward one of the larger nearby evergreens, about two hundred yards away, and seemed to disappear behind the extremely low branches.
A lion? Salvage thought to himself. Except they don't live around here. I should investigate and report this.
He noted the lack of snow built up on the paw prints, and then glanced out at the dim, grey horizon. Judging from the evidence here, and how quickly the snowfall tended to fill small impressions, whatever had happened was perhaps forty minutes ago, at most. He trotted along the creature's trail toward the tree, noting with alarm that the red tint in the snow was getting darker.
As he rounded the tree, his ears picked up the sound of pained breathing. Listening intently, he pinpointed the sound coming from the other side of a small mound of snow a short distance away and the bloody trail led straight to it. Whatever it was, it was alive. The wheezing of its breath reminded him of his own mother's labored breathing.
With just a few more steps toward the mound, the lion's hindquarters came into view. "Are you alright?" he called out, not really expecting any response from the lion. The lion's legs visibly tensed up. Salvage inched closer, readying his spear, just in case he needed it. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought you might need some medical assis..." he trailed off, as the rest of the 'lion' came into view. It wasn't really a lion, but he wasn't sure what he was looking at.
The hindquarters of the creature were like that of a lion (and female, he idly noted), but nothing else was. As Salvage traced the body with his eyes, he saw that the creature's body shifted from tawny fur to red feathers. A great, red-and-white-feathered wing lay haphazardly along her abdomen, mangled and broken, and three massive lacerations marred the side of the creature just beneath the wing, in perfect parallel lines. Where her front paws should be were a pair of raptor-like talons, the nails cracked and bleeding. Her head was like that of a giant hawk, with eyes staring at him, large, beady, and filled with pain. Salvage was reasonably certain he'd seen one of these creatures before in a book, but couldn't remember what they were called.
The creature watched him fearfully for a moment, but then relaxed, a small smile crossing her face. "A pony?" she mumbled. "Oh, Blessings. Please, I need to get a message to Celestia..." She groaned softly and closed her eyes, resting her head on the ground.
"A message to Celestia? What message?"
Silence. With even such little effort, the creature had lost consciousness, breathing shallowly.
Salvage wasn't sure where to start; whatever she was, she was in terrible shape, but he couldn't imagine any creature would come out into this snow-covered wasteland to deliver a message unless it was incredibly important. If she had a message for Celestia, he needed to find out what it was as quickly as possible, but before he could do anything else, she needed warmth. There was no way any creature would survive with such injuries while also freezing to death.
He fished through his saddlebags and pulled out a heat crystal. Elemental crystals: a wonderful aspect of Crystal Pony engineering. Each one had an affinity for a specific element, and could only be activated by a Crystal Pony's touch. This one in particular was like a fire, but safer.
Salvage struck it with his hoof and willed his magic into it. The crystal immediately began to hum and glow, emitting its warmth. He dropped the crystal into the snow, confident that it would clear the snow from the area within 10 minutes, and dry out the ground enough to set camp within the hour, as well as provide a magical warmth that would keep the strange creature from hypothermia.
As the crystal went to work, he glanced around at the nearby trees. Fortunately, despite its otherwise barren nature, there was one useful thing that could be found in the Spiritwood: Woundsalve. A fungus native only to the Spiritwood, it was one of the few reasons that the Crystal Empire actively protected the forest. It grew under the bark of the trees, favoring the northern side of the still-living ones, and was used in countless medical poultices. Its healing properties were potent, and it was mandatory that anyone in his patrol unit understand how to find and apply it properly.
He already had some in his pack, due to its longevity when dried, but it was nowhere near enough for the task at hand. Salvage trotted over to the broken tree, looking for any signs of the fungus. Though it offered nothing, several other trees were only a short walk away, and it didn't take long for him to find the telltale blue color that indicated a patch growing on one of the trunks. He whipped out a short blade from his pack and carefully extracted as much as he could, cutting gently into the wood and through the thin fungal layer. Though it was large, the piece he removed would not be large enough to completely cover the creature's massive injuries, so he took more branches off and continued cutting. After a short while, he walked back to the wounded creature with several large cuts of Woundsalve.
She had regained consciousness with the warmth and was now laying upright, but still looked very weak. The snow had mostly melted around the heat crystal by now, and the cold air no longer had a bite to it. Salvage put on a comforting smile as she stared at him.
"I have something that will help," he said reassuringly. He knelt down and carefully laid the Woundsalve out over the large gashes in the creature's side, trying to cover as much of the gaping wounds as he could while minimizing the disturbance on the injury. The creature watched with silent curiosity as he worked, her eyes following his hooves intently. Satisfied with the coverage, Salvage scooped up a hoofful of fresh snow from nearby. "This part will probably hurt a little bit," he murmured as he spread it over the fungus. The creature tensed up slightly, but then relaxed as the fungus went to work.
The creature broke her silence. "What does it do?" she asked, her voice clearly pained.
"We call it Woundsalve," Salvage replied, lightly massaging the wet film into the wound. "It has several known magical properties, one of which is accelerating healing. More importantly, it stimulates the body's replenishment of blood. I should warn you, though, that magical side effects include visual and auditory hallucinations and severely impaired judgement."
"Hallucinations?" she mumbled. "I've been able to see through you ever since you got here. I've probably lost far too much blood already."
Salvage paused for a moment, glanced down at his very pale orange coat, and then laughed. "You're not hallucinating that. When Crystal Ponies are within the borders of the Crystal Empire, and the Crystal Heart is safe, our bodies become translucent."
He pondered her physical features again. The fur on her coat was thin, and the remaining portions sparsely feathered compared to northern avians. Her body clearly wasn't built for northern climates, and her entire race had probably never really interacted with the Crystal Empire. And with the Crystal Empire gone for over one thousand years, Salvage realized it was entirely possible her race didn't even have any historical records of the Crystal Empire that she would be familiar with.
"I'm guessing you haven't heard of the Crystal Empire before?"
A look of despair crossed the creature's face. Her beak opened to speak, but closed again without a sound, and her head bobbed lightly back and forth with an uncertain expression. Salvage continued to massage the Woundsalve on her injuries in silence. After a few moments, the creature looked back at him with an utterly defeated expression on her face.
"The Crystal Empire isn't part of Equestria, is it...?"
"Well, no," he conceded. "But we are very close to Equestria. If you have a message for Celestia, I could deliver it for you if you like." The griffon shook her head.
After a minute, he stood up and glanced up into the sky. The sun would set soon, and he was nowhere near his evening rendezvous point. He had lost over two hours already working with the injured creature. She wasn't likely to survive a night in the Spiritwood, and without proper medical attention he wasn't sure if she would be able to move under her own strength any time soon.
He shrugged his pack and saddlebags off and started rummaging through them, pulling out several tools that he would need. The creature watched him with interest as he began setting up a prism beacon, working quickly.
"What is your name?" she eventually asked, as he finished affixing the large prism to the device.
"Salvage. Some ponies call me Sal." He tapped the prism lightly, coding it for a medical emergency. "You?"
"I'm Dutchess Geneva. Though currently my title is unimportant. Right now I'm just a messenger from Griffon's Tor, the last remaining stronghold of Griffonia."
Griffon, Salvage thought to himself. That was what they were called. He mentally cursed himself for being slow. If his memories from his ‘Adjusting to the New World’ classes were correct, Griffonia was a once-distant kingdom far to the west of Equestria that had exploded in growth and had shared a friendly relationship with the ponies for centuries. Despite that, the carnivorous nature of the griffons had led to little social interaction with ponies, who found the practice of eating meat revolting.
As a result, very few griffons had migrated over to live in Equestria proper. Those that did settled in Griffonstone, all the way on the Eastern border, where they maintained little to no contact with Griffonia, but similarly little contact with any major pony population centers. The Crystal Empire had effectively no contact with Griffonia or Griffonstone directly, and the only knowledge most Crystal Ponies had of those nations were through Equestrian history books. That wasn't too surprising: Griffons had no interest in such cold climates, while Crystal Ponies rarely wanted to leave the proximity of the Crystal Heart to venture into cultures unknown and far more advanced.
Salvage finished coding the beacon's message and switched it on. The prism began slowly spinning, casting a brilliant rainbow into the sky, with various colors flickering out to send his coded message. Anypony with a properly calibrated prism would be able to receive the message almost instantly. Salvage turned back to his saddlebags.
"Do you mind if I ask what happened to you?" he asked, pulling out the pieces of his tent. "I’m guessing the tree didn’t inflict those injuries."
Geneva nodded apprehensively. "Lately, griffons and dragons haven't been..." she trailed off, searching for words. "...getting along, I guess."
Salvage dropped a bag of tent pegs. "Why would a dragon attack you?"
"Because I have a message for Celestia," she said nervously. "I'm not authorized to tell you more than that."
Salvage could sense that it wasn't just a policy issue: She didn't feel comfortable talking about her apparent mission. And that bothered him in return. He ran through the entire scenario in his head as he assembled the tent, but it made little sense. The wound on her side was consistent with a dragon claw, so at the very least, she was probably telling the truth about that. For that matter, he couldn't think of another creature that could cause an injury as grievous as the one she had.
But Dragons rarely attacked at random, and Salvage had a hard time believing that 'having a message for Celestia' was sufficient reason to provoke an attack. He wasn't absolutely certain about griffons, but the dragons were generally amicable creatures, if a bit rough around the edges. Still, her word was all he had to go off of right now.
And one other thing still confused him: when angered, Dragons tended to make sure to finish the job they start.
"How did you get away from a dragon with those injuries?"
"I’m still a little baffled myself," Geneva replied. "When a second dragon arrived, I thought for sure I was going to die. But the other dragon attacked the one that was attacking me! I flew as hard as I could away from them both, and I didn’t look back." She closed her eyes.
"I really thought I was dead," she repeated. "I didn't expect to be saved after a dragon attacked me, and certainly not by another dragon. I kept trying to fly as far and as fast as I could to get away from them. But before I knew it, all I could see was this white, frozen landscape and I lost all sense of direction." Her eyes opened again, blinking a few times to try, unsuccessfully, to rid herself of the tears. Her voice cracked and her head drooped as she wept. "...I didn't expect to be saved a second time, either."
Salvage continued working in silence as the griffon sobbed quietly. The ground was completely dry by now, and the tent nearly finished, but he was having other concerns. If the dragon that had attacked Geneva decided to follow, the scent of blood was going to make it easy. Dragons fell into several subspecies. Very few were nocturnal, but there really was nothing he could do if the dragon showed up in the middle of the night; his spear wasn't any match for an adult dragon. And Geneva was in no condition to exert herself, either fighting or fleeing. In more utilitarian issues, the tent was large enough for Geneva, but there would not be room for them both. He'd probably have to just stand watch outside the tent all night.
"Spike willing, we'll get through the night," he mumbled to himself.
"Spike?" Geneva asked, looking up. "Who is Spike?"
"He's the..." Salvage bit his own tongue before he could finish speaking. Under the circumstances, it probably wasn't the best idea to mention that many Crystal Ponies idolized a dragon. "...deity many Crystal Ponies worship." It wasn't a complete lie.
Geneva frowned and blinked a few more tears away. "But, don't all ponies worship Celestia?" Apparently, her lack of cultural knowledge wasn't limited to just Crystal Ponies.
"No, ordinary ponies don't generally worship Celestia." He paused, frowning. "I mean, those who do worship anything at all tend to worship Celestia, I suppose. And Luna has what amounts to a minor cult, really. But most ponies don't really worship anypony. They just view the Royal Sisters as the Princesses of Equestria. And really, that's all they are. We Crystal Ponies have our own Princess, too, but our culture is quite a bit different. The majority of Crystal Ponies worship Spike, The Brave and Glorious, who saved us from the clutches of King Sombra."
Geneva nodded, but Salvage wasn't sure she really understood. "Okay," she said. "I guess I can understand that. Dragons have a similar belief in The Dragon Oracle, a noble dragon who they believe is incapable of being wrong and will continue to lead them to prosperity. I find it somewhat strange that you Crystal Ponies don't worship your princess, though."
Okay, maybe she somewhat understood. "To the Crystal Ponies, Spike represents freedom. He saved us from enslavement. Princess Cadance brings us love, but she did not free us."
The griffon stared at him in confusion. "So you worship a deity that has done great things in the past. But what does Spike do for your future that your Princess cannot?"
Salvage swallowed, finding himself woefully unprepared for this discussion. "We trust him to be there for us when we need him." It sounded stupid to himself even as he said it, but Geneva seemed to accept it with a polite nod before turning away and laying down to rest. He finished setting up the tent and turned back to his saddlebags to pull out a heavy blanket to lay out when a voice called out in the distance.
"Salvage! Status?!"
Salvage looked in the direction of the voice, relieved to see Wild Life. Patrols went both directions, passing at roughly two-hour intervals, and Wild Life was the pony he'd expected to be camping with for the night.
"Hey, Wild! I found an injured griffon," he called back. "Says a dragon attacked her."
Wild Life was an elderly stallion who had once been a veterinarian - even his cutie mark was a bird with a broken wing. When Sombra had taken over, forcing the Crystal Ponies into hard labor, most pets had been abandoned as families could not provide for them. Most of them had died. Even though Sombra was no longer in control of the Crystal Empire, the animal population was still tiny, and there just wasn't any work to be had, so Wild Life had joined up with the border patrol. In short, Wild Life was the closest Salvage would see to a doctor on such short notice. And all that aside, Salvage was glad to have some backup, just in case the dragon showed up.
The elderly stallion trotted up, surveying the damage in the fading light. "I was at the rendezvous point for about an hour when I figured I'd come look for you. Your beacon came on, and it wasn't too far away, so I just figured I would head over instead of decoding the message." He glanced at the quietly sobbing griffon and noticed her broken wing.
He stuck out a hoof toward the griffon. "Wild Life," he said, matter-of-factly. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."
Geneva looked up, her red, tear-stained feathers plastered to her face. Her shoulders drooped for a moment before she drew herself up straight and took a deep breath. "Hello." She gingerly held out a bloodied claw. "I'm Geneva."
"Hello, Geneva," Wild Life replied, touching his hoof to her claw. He turned to Salvage. "Can you make a splint for that wing?"
Salvage pointed to the two trees he had stripped for Woundsalve. "I pulled a bunch of branches off those trees over there. Not really sure what kind of branch makes for a good splint, though. I'm no doctor."
Wild Life nodded as his saddlebags dropped to the ground. He quickly drew out some bandages and began tending to the large gashes in Geneva's side. "Just bring me a few of the thicker ones, then. I should be able to fashion an appropriate one."
A few moments later, Salvage had brought a few of the largest branches to Wild Life's side. Wild Life looked down for a moment and then nodded. "I'll let you know if I need anything else. For now, it's getting late, and your tent looks like it will be a bit full of cat-bird. Pitch my tent while I work on this wing. We'll just have to cozy up close for the night - like old times."
Salvage hadn't known Wild Life during the Crystal Rebellion, but it wasn't uncommon for the Crystal Ponies to huddle close for warmth in those times. They had been uncertain times, but at least they were... part of his normal life? An unwelcome normal, for sure, but compared to being thrust a thousand years into the future, Salvage couldn't help but long for the old days.
"Yeah," Salvage nodded. "Like old times."
Scarlet Ribbon’s hooves reached forward, grasping futilely for a lover that was no longer there. Her eyes fluttered open as her brain registered his distinct absence. The world came into focus, and she found that somepony had pulled the covers back on the other side of the bed, and the sheets were cool to the touch.
"Again?" she groaned aloud. She threw the covers off of herself, releasing the smell of stale eroticism into the room around her. She looked down at herself, remembering how incredible he had been the night before, and how she had felt secure, wrapped in his embrace as she fell into slumber.
And now last night’s activity was thoroughly dried into her fur. "Why do you do this to yourself, Scarlet?" she muttered.
Heaving herself off the bed, she quickly pulled the sheets off with her magic and dumped them in the laundry hamper, then put new sheets down on the bed before trotting into the bathroom. She frowned at a used towel, still slightly damp, laying in the middle of the floor. He must have taken a shower before leaving.
Scarlet walked the used towel to the hamper with the soiled bedding, her mind wandering through dozens of possibilities. Was she not pretty enough? That probably wasn't the problem; she’d never had any problems getting a stallion to join her for a date. Everything always seemed to fall apart shortly after sex. Was there something wrong with her in... intimate moments?
She glanced up at herself in the mirror. Her normally impeccable silver and scarlet mane was a mess, framing the orange-cream fur of her coat. Her sea-blue eyes gazed back at her, sparkling with fresh, unspent tears that were threatening to spill over.
I... still look good, don't I?
She turned away abruptly, not wanting to go down that line of thought. Something caught her eye as she looked away: a note on the bathroom counter. She quickly snatched it up and began reading.
Scarlet,
I do appreciate the wonderful nights we’ve shared together. You are truly an amazing mare, in nearly every way that I can even imagine, and for these last weeks, you’ve made me feel like the greatest stallion in Equestria. If I could have anything in the world, I would love to have you as my own. But I can’t.
Last night, when we made love, it was the greatest night of my life. But afterward... you asked me if I thought I could be a father to your daughter. In that moment, I realized that you and I are looking for completely different things in a relationship. I can’t be the father you want me to be. I do want children of my own, perhaps some day, but I am not ready to raise a child yet. I am sorry I'm hiding behind a note instead of telling you personally, but I've never been good at goodbyes.
I'm sorry.
Patch
Scarlet sighed. It was always the same. She was so sure Pumpkin Patch was going to be the one , and yet here she was: Single again. Her day couldn’t possibly get any worse than this, and it had only just started.
She shook the negative thoughts out of her head. Now was not the time to lament; she had to get her stubborn daughter up and to school and then head off to work.
With little more than a nod of her horn, she turned on the water in the tub and a few moments later she was standing under a warm, cleansing cascade. She tried not to think about the note as she lathered up her coat, then let out a frustrated scream as she began scrubbing - paying particular attention to her love-stained thighs where the fur was matted the worst.
It was a long, hot shower, but she eventually stepped out into a steamy bathroom and dried off before wrapping her mane and tail in tightly bound towels. She crossed the hallway and knocked on her daughter's door.
"Jupiter!" she called. "It's time to get up and go to school!"
There was no response. Scarlet knocked again, louder, before gently pushing the door open and peering inside.
The bed was empty and unmade; not that Jupiter ever made her bed. The room wasn't exactly messy, but it was disorganized. Stacks of books littered the floor, and three empty cups of instant noodles sat on the corner of her desk, somehow failing to make their way to a trash can only a foot away. Scarlet frowned, both at her daughter's lack of discipline and her own failings as a single mother. No other mothers in her social class were leaving their children to feed on instant food.
"Jupiter? Where are you?" she called out.
"I'm just leaving," her daughter's voice called back from across the house. She heard the front door slam shut, only to open again a moment later. "By the way, there's a Solar Guard for you at the door!" The door slammed closed again.
Scarlet rolled her eyes and trudged her way across the house to the door. As it opened, the Solar Guard standing on the front porch glanced nervously at the towels in her mane and tail.
"Can I help you?" she asked, ignoring his roaming eyes.
He shook his head quickly as his eyes came back to meet hers. "Chief Engineer Ribbon, your presence is requested in the Royal Conference Hall as soon as feasibly possible. Do you need an escort, ma'am?"
Scarlet groaned. An emergency gathering in the conference hall could not possibly be a good sign. Maybe the day was going to get worse.
"No, that's alright. I can make my own way there," she replied.
The door closed with a loud clack.
Just like all the other prisoners in Canterlot Prison, Buckboard loved the recreation chamber. A wide, flat area excavated right into the mountainside, just a few hundred feet below Canterlot Castle's foundation. It was barely tall enough for the Pegasus prisoners to get some low-altitude flight to exercise their wings properly, but at least they could . A well-maintained indoor grass field spread across the entire area, providing a nice, natural surface to run on, while small, artificial bushes and shrubs gave a nice scenic environment. They also were arranged so that they could be used as an impromptu obstacle course, providing a venue for prisoners to exercise their competitive spirit.
The drab grays and browns of the stone walls that dominated the rest of the prison were absent here, replaced instead by natural light pouring in from three sides - only the side facing the interior of the mountain remained a stone face, and even that was much more cheery as prisoners were permitted to 'decorate' that wall with artistic endeavors, with any of several paints available for more artistic types to create their temporary masterpieces - though they had to use their hooves or wingtips to paint with. The remaining three 'walls' consisted of massive reinforced wrought-iron bars that were exposed directly to the beautiful vistas below Canterlot, providing clean air and natural lighting for the entire chamber. The end result was much like being outdoors, except that you would never have to deal with the rain or sun beating down upon you. And you couldn't leave if you got sick of it. It was largely unexciting in prison, but at least it wasn't miserable.
Buckboard's many years of hauling contraband had never lacked excitement, at least. He’d ended up with quite a reputation in some circles. Hauling was considered a young pony's job, especially for earth ponies, and it was rare for one to be in the business as long as he had been. Those who evaded capture tended to retire, or start working other, safer jobs for the various Syndicates that controlled the black markets of Equestria. But he had foolishly pressed on.
Now he often spent the majority of his recreational time, a hoof resting on the massive metal bars as he gazed out at the Canterlot Valley below. The view itself was breathtaking, and in fact was one of the best views in all of Equestria that any Earth Pony would ever get without going to the top of one of Canterlot Castle’s spires. It made him envious of the vistas a Pegasus could enjoy from the clouds.
He didn't look out over the valley for the majestic views, though. He did it because his hometown of Ponyville was visible off in the distance. As he gazed out at his home wistfully, sometimes Buckboard would wonder how Sweet Apple Acres was running, with those delicious apples that would always brighten everypony's day. Or wonder if Sugarbeet's tavern was getting good business that day. And about how wonderful it would be to finally get home to try some of the baking at Sugarcube Corner again.
But most of all, he thought about his family. Much to his confusion, his previously loving wife hadn't visited him even once since his incarceration. He often wondered if she was still faithful to him after so many years? He knew it was unlikely, and given her complete and total absence, Buckboard had begun to question if she had even been faithful to him before his capture. Despite all that, he still loved her and wanted to hold her in his hooves again, but it made his blood boil when he dwelled on it too much.
He often redirected those thoughts toward his son; not even yet born when Buckboard had been sentenced to prison. With his wife's total absence, his attachment to the foal was more of an ideal than a reality. Still, dozens of questions plagued him. Was he a good foal? What kind of colt had he turned out to be? Did he have a cutie mark? Did he have any strong male role-models?
Strong role-models...?
Even if he got out, Buckboard was no role-model. Perhaps it didn't matter that he was in prison; Equestria was full of stallions that were better than he was. His wife deserved better. And yet somehow, despite that, that beautiful mare had once chosen him above all of the others.
...
So why had she tossed him aside like a used tissue?
He gazed out again at Ponyville below. Dark clouds were gathering over the town, obscuring his view. It was the largest storm he'd seen in the fourteen years he'd been gazing out at the town.
Fourteen years in this hole.
Buckboard sighed inwardly. If only his wife would actually come to visit, but no - if things continued as they were going, in another six years, he would get to see his adult child when he finally got back on the outside. If even that.
The soft noise of hooves on grass behind him dragged him out of his thoughts. He turned to see his long-time friend, Black Quartz, approaching. Black Quartz was rather small for an Earth Pony, but she rippled with muscle, capable of out-doing most other Earth Ponies in any task of brute strength. The two had been through a lot together even before they ended up in prison, and in his wife's absence, Quartz had made it no secret that she would make herself available to him if he wanted it.
"Hey, Q."
"Buck," Black Quartz replied rubbing her barrel flirtatiously against his side. "Want to go behind a bush and... have some fun?"
And she wasn't subtle about it. At all. It wasn't uncommon for ponies to engage in such activities covertly on the recreation grounds. The guards tended to turn a blind eye to it, when they weren't openly being voyeurs about it. Then again, the other prisoners often were no better. Buckboard shook his head.
"You already know the answer, Q. If I wanted to do that, I'd just apply to be your cellmate."
Quartz hummed a brief acknowledgement.
The two stood next to each other, gazing out on the scenery below in silence for a minute before Black Quartz spoke again. "Thinking about home again?"
Buckboard nodded, but stayed silent for a time. Their conversations were often fairly slow like this. "Thinking about my family," he finally sighed.
"I can tell. Concerned about the kid?"
Buckboard nodded again, and Black Quartz responded with a shake of her head.
"Colts need a father," Buckboard lamented. "Someone to teach them how to be a stallion. He's just hit puberty, Q. He's gotta have hundreds of questions, and I don't know that his mother is going to have the answers."
Black Quartz frowned. "Buck, you've been losing your shit about this for years. You really can't keep doing this to yourself; if you don't stop, by the time you get out of here you're going to fuckin' hate yourself. And what's stopping you from becoming a stallion your son can be proud of? Sure, it's hard to do that from in here, but you can make plans and take steps to try. Go spend more time in the library instead of moping out here in rec. At the end of all of this, if you get out of here and can't even respect your damned self, why should your son respect you enough to give you a chance?"
Buckboard sighed. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, in some form or another. And Black Quartz had a point. He needed to come out of prison a better stallion, though he wasn't sure how that could happen.
A whistle blew off in the distance. Free time was over, and it was time to head back to their cells. Several armed guards stepped into the recreation area, preparing to provide an 'escort' for any prisoners who were less than cooperative. Black Quartz turned and trotted off toward the doors to the cells, leaving Buckboard alone for a moment again. Buckboard glanced one more time back at the storm settled over Ponyville before turning away.
The Royal Conference Hall was one of the largest single rooms in the entirety of Canterlot Castle, dwarfed only by the throne room itself. The walls - like the rest of the castle, carved from marble - were adorned with stunning artistic renderings of Equestria's greatest triumphs. Not quite as impressive as the Halls of Harmony that honored the greatest actions of ponykind in giant stained-glass windows, but Scarlet was still proud to have some of her own work portrayed in one of the prominent pieces here. The floor, a white and dark grey checked pattern, was mostly covered with a large red carpet with gold trimmings, upon which sat a monumentally large mahogany wood table that stretched the length of the room. The wood was stained to a deep red that went well with the carpet, and seated along both sides were around four dozen chairs, most of them filled. The sheer number of ponies in the room was starting to make Scarlet's skin crawl with concern.
Unsurprisingly, a tense feeling of panic dominated the atmosphere of the room. Not only was this conference called without advance notice, but today’s meeting was unusual in that Luna and Celestia did not normally attend any conference together unless it was a matter of grave importance, and both of their royal chairs - normally absent when they weren't attending - sat imperiously at the end of the table.
Despite Scarlet's own late arrival, neither princess had arrived yet, and both of the massive chairs remained vacant. She counted herself fortunate that senior officials had reserved seating, and she wouldn't have to fight for a good seat. She levitated a notepad and quill out of her saddlebag as a precaution and then settled comfortably in her chair and focused on the conversation bubbling around her.
Even though she didn't know many by name, Scarlet recognized most of the faces gathered around the table from the various military branches and government departments that operated within Canterlot Castle and its surrounding districts. Some, however, were new to her, especially those at the end of the table where the Princesses sat: a griffon with one wing in a splint, a crystal pony with a prosthetic limb, and most curiously, Prince Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire.
Both of Equestria's princesses and the prince of the Crystal Empire holding an urgent meeting were obviously signs of something big, and everypony in attendance was buzzing with speculation and rumor.
"Why's the Griffon here?" a unicorn mare asked. Scarlet caught the griffon scowling from the corner of her eye.
"Maybe the Griffons have finally decided to take us up on our offer to help with their weather," a nearby Pegasus stallion suggested.
"I doubt it," said the mare. Though Scarlet did not know the mare, she recognized her uniform as part of the Wildlife Preservation Foundation. "They want the local weather to stay unchanged. Remember, Griffons are carnivores. If we mess with the weather, it could impact local species' survival and throw off the ecological balance. And that means less food for them."
"What about the Crystal Pony? Why's he here?" another voice wondered.
"I don't know, but I’m sure the Crystal Prince isn’t just here on a social visit this time. It's got to be something big."
Another pony Scarlet didn't recognize turned to face her; one of the new administrators of the Agricultural Department. "You spend a lot of time working with the Crystal Empire. What do you think?"
The question caught Scarlet off guard, and she frowned. "I, uh... I have no idea." As Chief Royal Engineer and head of the Office of Mechanical Engineering, Scarlet was indeed often working with the Crystal Ponies. Their Crystal Magic was frequently useful in Arcane Engineering, a field that focused on the combination of magical energies with mechanical devices. "I haven't heard anything from the Crystal Empire, so I doubt this has anything to do with my department. I also haven't heard reports of a derailed arcano-tech train, and that's about the worst thing my department deals with, which most certainly wouldn't lead to a meeting of this scope."
After a few minutes of conversation, a loud rumble spread throughout the chamber as the great double doors crashed closed. Princess Celestia stood before the doors with an air of calm concern as she gazed across the gathered ponies. The conversation dulled to a murmur as Celestia walked regally up to the end of the table and took her seat. She glanced around, nodding to various advisors and allowing the room a moment to prepare for whatever important information she had to impart. Everypony's eyes locked to her, and she raised a hoof for silence. The room fell into a deathly quiet almost instantly.
"Thank you all for being here on such short notice," she began. "You are all officers, advisors, and distinguished individuals within your respective fields. And for that, we are thankful to have you here today. My sister is busy dealing with a last-minute issue and will be here in a moment, but before she arrives, I would like to inform you of the purpose of this meeting."
Brief rumblings stirred throughout the room but were quickly silenced as Celestia raised her hoof again.
"As you are probably aware, for eight-hundred years we have shared a comfortable peace with the Kingdom of Griffonia..." Nods and whispers of affirmation permeated the room as the princess continued, "... and just over six-hundred years ago, we established a formal alliance with the Griffons, opening lines of communication and trade. You may also be aware that it has been an unstable alliance; the Griffons are deeply rooted in their own traditions and do not have any deep desire for our hoof-made crafts. Nor does our herbivorous diet mix well with their carnivorous needs." Scarlet noticed several ponies glance at the griffon with a mix of expressions. "As such, with no need for our material goods, trade has been minimal, and anything more than incidental contact with Griffonia has been sporadic at best, limited primarily to tourism and a friendly rivalry in sports."
Celestia went silent, a look of deadly seriousness on her face as she continued. "And now, we have been called upon to save them all. The Dragons of Goldenclaw Peak have begun an indiscriminate massacre against Griffonia!" She closed her eyes, letting that sink in for a few moments.
"Even though our alliance with Griffonia is not strong, Equestria shall respect Her treatises. We will not stand idly by - allowing the massacre of an entire race - and do nothing about it!" Her eyes snapped open with an impassioned intensity Scarlet had never before seen on the Princess. Celestia cast her gaze about the room, stopping for a moment to rest on a few ponies. Her eyes fell directly on Scarlet, the gaze boring right into her soul. The two ponies locked eyes for a few seconds before Celestia's eyes continued wandering.
The expression may have been different - more intense than ever - but Scarlet knew that look. Celestia had expectations for her and the other ponies in this room. Every time Celestia had looked at her with that expression, it had always been leading up to some major project. But what was she expected to do now? Build a machine for war? Scarlet grimaced inwardly. I don't want to make things designed to harm, she thought. But if the Princess orders it, would I do it?
A rising cacophony of questions was making it difficult to hear anypony in particular. Celestia once again raised a hoof for silence, addressing a question Scarlet hadn't heard.
"We received the first report this morning, from a Griffon messenger, that the dragons are even now laying siege to Griffon's Tor. We sent out a scouting party that has confirmed that the Griffon border village, Giomma, has been burned entirely to the ground. Those same scouts were waylaid by a Dragon who advised us that any interference from Equestria would be considered an act of war."
Voices erupted into more questions - a clamor that was deafening - and Celestia was trying her best to pick out questions and answer them. Scarlet couldn't make out the questions, but Celestia's use of the Royal Canterlot Voice every time she spoke made the answers clear.
"Yes, we are investigating further options before we take military action."
"No, the scouting party found zero survivors."
"No, we do not know the Dragons’ motivations."
"Yes, the Dragons have made it clear they are intending to eradicate all of Griffonkind."
"No, we don’t know what that means for Griffonstone."
"No, we aren't making a blind attack on Goldenclaw Peak."
The questions were interrupted as the doors to the conference room opened with a painfully loud groan and Princess Luna strode into the room. Scarlet made a quick note on her pad to have one of her engineers take a look at the spells that maintained the door's hingework. The entire room silently watched as the dark Alicorn trotted up and took a seat next to her elder sister. Celestia whispered something in Luna's ear, and without hesitation Luna immediately launched into an address of her own.
"I'm sure you all want to know what it is Celestia and I are planning to do about this situation." A chorus of nods could be seen. "And for that, we have an idea of what we'd like to do, but there are some complications." She gestured to the three foreigners present. "Geneva, if you'd like to explain what has happened?"
The Griffoness drew up to her full height as she stood to address the room, and Scarlet suddenly became keenly, terrifyingly aware of just how large a full-grown Griffon really was. "Ponies of Equestria," she said, "I am Duchess Geneva of Griffon's Tor, our capital, and one of the last standing bastions of Griffon society. I consider it a privilege to be alive today, for many of my brothers and sisters are not so lucky.
"Four days ago, the dragons of Goldenclaw Peak began a savage attack on our kingdom and our way of life. Our hunting grounds have been set ablaze. Our villages have been razed to the ground. Our sacred nests have been destroyed. Within a matter of days, we were driven back by the onslaught and forced to take shelter within our mountain strongholds.
"Their siege against Griffon's Tor has been relentless. Any griffon who has attempted to leave has been pursued, attacked, and killed without mercy. We have no idea what provoked the Dragons' attack, and they have refused any attempt at peaceful discourse. Our dietary needs don't allow us to store much food, and our medical supplies are being consumed rapidly.
"King Gerard and his advisors decided we should take our best fliers and send them for help. I and seven others were selected, instructed to take indirect routes as much as possible to avoid detection, and we carefully snuck out at night via an ancient series of tunnels in the mountain. I took flight, planning to circle north, but I was spotted by a young Dragon, who pursued and attacked me. I fought him off, knowing that I was no match for his strength. Another dragon attacked my assailant, and I was able to get away, but not without great cost to myself." She gestured to her broken, mangled wing. "After collapsing in the Spiritwood, I was saved by an attentive Crystal Pony patrol guard, and would not have made it here today otherwise. I owe my life, and possibly my homeland, to him." She gestured to the Crystal Pony seated next to her. The Crystal Pony stood as the griffon sat back down, bowing slightly, but he said nothing before returning to his seat.
After a brief smattering of polite applause, Prince Shining Armor stood and cleared his throat. "You all know of me. I am Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire. Some of you here call me the Prince, but here in the confines of Canterlot, it’s just more comfortable if you would address me as Captain." He noticed Celestia's look of disapproval and grimaced.
"Uhh... So!" he said, putting on a much more serious face. "Based on what Geneva has shared with us, there's clearly some level of dissent among the Dragons, which means we can't just go in and attack indiscriminately. As such, our first order of business should be to ensure the safety of the Griffons at Griffon's Tor and any other strongholds that are still fighting. However, we run the risk of a war with the Dragons ourselves should we attempt to assist them directly, and given their seemingly genocidal intent, we consider this a worst-case scenario." Shining looked out at all the ponies in attendance. "Does anypony have an idea that might buy enough time to prepare for a full-scale military operation, or for our diplomats and Griffon allies to negotiate a peace?"
Silence descended upon the room. Scarlet Ribbon thought about all of her creations, every last invention she had ever created, but none of them seemed suitable for any such task. A nervous murmur spread throughout the room as the ponies gathered failed to think of anything. After a minute of fruitless consideration, the Crystal Pony who had stood earlier returned to his feet.
The Captain Prince stepped to the side, giving everyone a clear view. "Salvage?" he questioned. "You have an idea?"
"I do," the Crystal Pony replied, stepping forward. With the Prince no longer blocking her view, Scarlet could see the pony's mechanical leg more clearly. It was obviously powered by Crystal Magic; she watched as it compensated for his weight as he shifted about, fascinated with its precision.
"Many years before I joined the Crystal Patrol, I was involved in the illicit trade of weapons fueling the Crystal Ponies’ rebellion against King Sombra." Several gasps sounded throughout the hall at Sombra's name, but Celestia raised a hoof and they were silenced. "A thousand years ago, these weapons were frequently smuggled out of Diamond Dog territory - territory that is today controlled by the Griffons. Though my knowledge is a millenium old, I am quite familiar with the geography around Griffon's Tor and the routes between Griffonia and northern Equestria. Many of the routes used by smugglers then were dense with forest, hiding their wagons from Sombra's aerial patrols. I propose we gather together what resources we can offer to the Griffons as aid and send wagons back into Griffon territory, along similar routes. If ponies are capable of hiding from a dragon's sharp eyes, we have a chance." A discontented murmur spread through the hall, and not even Celestia's raised hoof quieted them this time.
"Captain?" Luna asked. "What do you think?"
The Crystal Prince stood. "Not you," Celestia chastised. Shining returned to his seat.
Captain Ironblade, who stood across the table from Scarlet, shook his head. "I am not sure of this plan, Your Highnesses. The manticore's share of Equestria's military is not trained for stealth and subterfuge, and those that have any training whatsoever were trained for infiltration with minimal equipment. They would only be useful for light work and would hardly be capable of hauling cargo in the volume that our allies need. While I believe this idea has merit and would buy us the time we need, failure would dramatically worsen our circumstances. I feel the logistics of it would pose too great a risk, and that risk is something we cannot afford."
A flash of inspiration struck Scarlet Ribbon and she bolted to her hooves. Dozens of pairs of eyes darted to her, waiting expectantly.
"Apologies for interrupting, Captain," Scarlet announced. "But I think this idea has more potential than you are giving credit for. I have a hobby project I've worked on in my spare time; a personal challenge I made for myself. A wagon that could make a stealth mission significantly easier than it would appear at first. And while your military regiment may not have ponies with the experience we need, perhaps it is not the military we need. Perhaps what we need are real professionals - ponies who have extensive experience with smuggling wagons of illicit goods and hiding them from prying eyes." Scarlet gestured at the Crystal Pony. "Ponies like Salvage." She stopped and took a deep breath. "And... myself."
A murmur spread throughout the assembly. Chief Justice Silver Key stood up, throwing his chair back, and levelled an accusatory hoof at Scarlet. "I always knew I couldn’t trust you, and now you are here publicly announcing your criminal history? I’ll have you arrested and hauled--"
"Justice Key, please," Celestia interrupted, clopping a hoof against the table, much to Scarlet’s relief. "This is not the time or place. Let us hear her out."
"We need criminals," Scarlet continued. "For this task, I mean." She pointed a hoof at Salvage. "Not all criminals are unethical. Not all laws are just. I can assure you, if you remove their incentives for crime, most of them would prefer an honest living. Just as the two of us are no longer a part of that world, many of these ponies' loyalty can be bought, for the right price."
Voices erupted throughout the hall as dozens of ponies began voicing their opinions at once, overwhelmingly negative. Luna struck the table with her hoof, glaring fiercely at any pony who dared peep. The hall went completely silent.
"Yes, it is clear that the idea does not sit well with many present here," Luna growled. "But does anypony else have any other ideas?"
Minutes passed in silence. Celestia turned to Scarlet. "I am aware of your experience," she said, glancing momentarily at Silver Key with a crooked smile. "And your hoof-picked engineering crew has proven your ability to select only the best of the best. But are you sure you are ready to take on this responsibility? Can you put forward your life for the protection of not just Equestria, but her allies as well?"
Scarlet Ribbon swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of the entire hall's expectations on her shoulders. She thought about her daughter. Failure could mean war, and war would be devastating. But doing nothing could be far worse; what was to stop the dragons from doing the same to Equestria after the fact?
Jupiter didn't deserve a world like that. No matter what happened, she had to stop the Dragons.
"Yes, Your Highness. I am."
Salvage stood up. "I would offer my services as well," he affirmed. "I have already pledged my life for the Crystal Empire, but I would just as happily put my life on the line for our sisters and brothers in Equestria."
A smattering of uncertain applause rippled through the assembled ponies. Silver Key manifested his gavel and slammed it against the table. All eyes turned to him as he threw an accusatory hoof at Celestia. "You dare to put the fate of Equestria into the hands of known criminals? The very scum that we lock away as threats to a stable society? Your foolishness will not just ruin Equestria, it will doom Griffonkind to a terrible fate. Mark my words, Princess, this will not end well."
Silver Key stormed out of the hall, slamming the massive door closed with his magic. One of the hinges buckled slightly under the force of it.
Scarlet circled the previous note on her pad.
Moonshine grunted softly as her back hit the ground. Sinking ever-so-slightly into the soft earth, she looked up lovingly at the Earth Pony who had pushed her down, visible only by the light of the full moon above. He stood over her, lowering his lips to her ear and nipping softly.
"I want you," he whispered sweetly to her. She shuddered as his words brought a pleasurable chill down her spine. She reached her forehooves up, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him down into an embrace.
"I know," she whispered back. "Me, too." She longed to be filled by her lover, to make passionate, sweet love for hours. But, alas, there was no time for that. "Now hurry, please, before the others wake up," she hissed. Her body demanded relief, and he was going to give it to her. She felt a familiar pressure as his thick, throbbing stallionhood speared into her pussy, her own slick arousal providing easy passage into her depths.
Her lover wasted no time bearing down and thrusting rapidly, grasping her hips and driving his flesh into her own with wild abandon. With every thrust forward, her pleasure rose to dizzying heights, each light kiss of his glans against her cervix bringing even more exhilaration and excitement. She struggled against her own building pleasure, trying to stifle her squeals of satisfaction lest she awaken the ponies sleeping nearby.
The knowledge they could be seen at any moment only turned her on even more. Her nipples were painfully stiff, aching for attention. Her horn came alive, unsteadily grasping at her teats; twisting and pulling at them. With each tug, her mind craved more and more from her lover. Hormones flooded her body, screaming out for her to be bred - she needed his seed to fill her; to give her their foal. Her magic reached out with burning desire, lightly caressing her lover's swinging ballsack, gently massaging his weighty testicles, trying to coax out the cream of life that her body so desperately craved.
He did not last long under her ministrations, thrusting erratically until he hilted inside of her and stopped, tensing up. He let out a strangled groan, and she felt the pulse as his throbbing cock fired volley after volley of cum, spraying down her cervix in his desperate bid to fertilize her womb. She began magically abusing her clit as he came, trying desperately to bring herself to climax with him, her own body tensing with the anticipation of release.
But her orgasm did not come.
It never did.
Hammerhoof collapsed against her, eyes closed in a nearly catatonic state. "I love you," he whispered into her ear, breathing heavily. She pulled him into an embrace once more, taking comfort in his hooves. Even though she could not reach her peak, she still enjoyed simply being close with her lover. She would survive. And the fires of her estrus would hopefully dim a little for the efforts. Her horn glowed softly, casting a spell to prevent any eggs from implanting in her womb.
She smiled to herself, satisfied just to be with him. Hammerhoof's breathing slowly returned to normal. He lifted his head, and Moonshine seized the opportunity, planting her lips firmly against his. Her tongue pleaded for entry, and his teeth parted, allowing her to explore his mouth, wrapping his own tongue around hers as best as he could. A moment later, Hammerhoof pulled away from her, standing back up on all four hooves.
"We need to get cleaned up before the others notice," he whispered softly.
Moonshine nodded, focusing on her magic and pulling moisture from the surrounding air, forming a bubble of water. She withdrew a small towel from her saddlebags and then touched the bubble with her horn, exercising the power of her cutie mark. Though it did not change in appearance, the bubble now reeked of alcohol. Moonshine wet the towel with it and gently washed the two of them clean before dousing herself with the remainder of the bubble, hoping the smell of the alcohol would overpower the stench of sex wafting from her nethers. It's not like anypony would be shocked that she reeked of alcohol, given how much she drank, anyway.
"It's fucking cold," she complained quietly.
"Then let's go sit by the fire," he suggested.
Princess Celestia sat back in her throne, sipping on a cup of tea. Scarlet Ribbon and Salvage stood before the throne as Scarlet eagerly explained her plan. Silver Key stood nearby with a scowl on his face, clearly only here because he was requested.
"Once we have the crew, all we need to do is get a sizable number of crystals to power the spell matrix on the wagon and we should be able to keep a number of enchantments on it," Scarlet explained. "I believe Prince Shining Armor would have no problem coming up with the crystals, and Salvage will be present to power them with his Crystal Magic."
Celestia set her tea aside. "And what size crew are you expecting to need for this mission?"
"With modern wagon design, the bare minimum a wagon team needs is two ponies: one to handle the brakes and one to pull. But the ideal team has six - two Earth Ponies to pull the wagon, two Unicorns for the brakes, and two Pegasi to help with lifting. Salvage can probably stand in as an Earth Pony, and I have several years of experience braking wagons, so we would ideally want to take two Pegasi, one Unicorn and one Earth Pony."
The throne creaked slightly as Celestia settled back and gazed at the ceiling in thought.
"You seem to have a reasonably clear plan for how your team should function. Have you given any thought to which ponies you will approach with this plan?"
"Stealth is critical," Salvage interjected. "The every-day smuggler has no experience trying to hide from eagle-eyed predators such as Dragons while hauling large loads of cargo. Domestic wagons aren't unusual, aren't scrutinized thoroughly, and don't draw suspicion from the sky, so ponies with experience smuggling internationally would probably be the best fit for our needs. "
"Justice Key? Can you provide me with a list of those candidates?"
Silver Key turned to face the Princess with a smirk. "I am sorry, Your Highness. Our justice system does not differentiate between domestic and international smuggling, so there are no records regarding the difference."
Celestia's eyes narrowed. "Then you will provide me with a copy of all dossiers for ongoing investigations on international smuggling suspects."
His cheerful expression clouded over. "I will have the report by the end of the day," he replied sedately.
"And what am I to offer the ponies that I wish to recruit?" Scarlet asked.
"If you are confident that they are the right pony for the job, then you have all the resources of the Crown at your disposal, up to and including a full pardon. Though I expect you to be judicious with your offers, and I expect you to report to me immediately with the details of any accepted offers so I may prepare."
The room around Flywheel was a strange miasma of color, distant walls deforming and swirling in all shades of grey. The ground was a strange pattern of unevenly spaced bands, alternating in blue and black, white and gold.
"Hello," a voice from behind called. It was feminine but otherwise distorted. Flywheel looked to the voice and saw a fuzzy outline of a pony. She shimmered with hues of silver, orange, and red, and he could not make out exactly where her mane ended and her body began, but even without being able to make out her features, he knew she was beautiful. The silhouette in front of him watched him intently for several seconds, and Flywheel opened his mouth to reply. No sound came out. The illusion crumbled into pieces, her ghostly form falling to the ground in a cascade of perfectly-cut cubes, each one bouncing and skittering away, evaporating as it struck the ground like a drop of water flung across a hot stove.
The scenery around him began to change. The walls stopped their strange undulations, firming up into a solid brown color, lacking in texture. The floor bent and shifted as the blue and black changed to red. The white faded away and the bands warped themselves into checkered red and gold. The checked pattern slowly slid around drunkenly beneath his hooves.
Another voice spoke. "Dearly Beloved, today we celebrate..."
The voice faded into gibberish, and Flywheel couldn't understand anything beyond that. He looked down at himself and found he was wearing a tuxedo. When he looked up again, a faceless mare looked at him, dressed all in white. Even though she had no eyes, he could tell she was staring deep into his soul, judging him. A cold chill ran down his spine. Her mouth opened impossibly wide as she lunged at him.
Flywheel awoke with a start, opening his eyes to the familiar sight of his own tent. He stretched his tense muscles and shook his head to clear away the cobwebs of the strange dream, but it wasn't working.
He couldn't even remember how many years ago he had started into drug smuggling, not just because it had been a long time, but also because he had sampled so many different drugs that large parts of his memory were just a blur. But as he'd become hooked on the drugs, so too, had the drugs hooked him, causing strange, vivid dreams that danced with snippets of broken memories, long forgotten. Like the one he had just experienced.
They were no less disturbing with their frequency.
Flywheel stood to his hooves with a wide yawn and stepped out into the harsh, cold morning light. Three of the four other tents nearby betrayed no signs of wakefulness and two pairs of hoofprints trailing off into the trees from the fourth. The freight wagon sat nearby, undisturbed. Not wanting to dwell on the dream, Flywheel trotted over to check on the wagon's cargo.
A quick burst of magic opened the rear of the bonnet, allowing him an easy climb into the back of the wagon. All around the wagon's interior were simple, unmarked bags of some white powdered substance. He'd sampled some before. It tasted terrible, and he was fairly certain it was not a drug. Everything seemed to be just as it should here, but Flywheel couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He worked his way to the front of the cargo bed and moved one of the bags aside to access a hidden panel in the floor, lifting it and checking on the other cargo.
As the panel came away, a wooden box, painted black with red trim, greeted him. Something about the box didn't look right. Had someone gotten into it? Flywheel lifted the box out of its compartment with his magic, examining it. Nothing was out of place, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He lifted the lid carefully and examined the contents. Blood red leaves filled the small chest, but again, nothing seemed out of place.
If you looked through the Equestrian Government's List of Controlled Substances, one could find a long list of things that were prohibited or restricted within Canterlot's influence. Astragalus, Equisetum, Sweetclover, Poison Joke, Goldenglow, Sorghum; dozens upon dozens of dangerous plants and alchemical concoctions were listed within. While most were forbidden outright, some were permitted for use in certain Zebrican rituals, but only for use in their sacred medicinal arts. Among these listings was a rare plant, resulting from the cross-pollination between Heart's Desire and Poison Joke; a plant known as Heart's Passion, often simply shortened to just Passion. And it was Passion that had become the hot-ticket item in the drug trade.
Flywheel took one of the Passion leaves from the box and chewed on it as he returned the box to its resting place, closing the panel that protected it from the rest of the cargo - or from prying eyes.
A noise behind the wagon startled him. Was he being watched? He turned around, but nopony was there.
"Forager?" he called out.
The dulcet tones of Moonshine's voice called back to him instead. The voice of a goddess herself.
"No, you idiot. It’s me and Hammer. What the hell are you doing in the wagon?"
"Checking on the goods," Flywheel replied. After ensuring he had re-secured the cargo properly, he hopped out of the back of the wagon.
Moonshine was by the fire pit, her deep grey coat melding into the red coat of the Earth Pony. Hammerhoof.Her hooves were entwined with his and the two were sharing a deep kiss. Flywheel watched with jealous fury, still chewing idly on the red leaf. He wasn't going to lose Moonshine. Especially not to a dirt eater . But it was okay; his plan would see fruition soon.
He glared jealously as the two ponies stayed in each other's embrace for several moments before he shook his head and trotted over to the nearby stream, drinking deeply of the fresh water. After enjoying a long pull of the cool waters, he looked up to see a storm brewing above. He smiled. No — it didn't matter what Hammerhoof and Moonshine did now. Not after that storm rolled in, right on schedule. This day was going to be just perfect .
Being the last into the cafeteria left few options for seating, so Black Quartz and Buckboard settled in at the least-crowded table they could find. Two other ponies were already at the table. The first was a short, wiry, red unicorn named Starshot, one of the newest prisoners. The other was Flux, a surprisingly stocky green earth pony that Buckboard knew from Ponyville.
"Tasteless, as always," Black Quartz muttered, sampling the bland slop on her plate. "As soon as I get out, I'm going to be hitting up Sugarbeet's."
Buckboard snorted. "Sugarbeet's is great, but a nice home-cooked meal would be amazing. I'll take that over the bar, thanks."
"Wish I had something like that to look forward to," Flux chimed in. "My bitch left me after I got locked up. You guys have it good."
The weight of his wife's absence weighed down on Buck's shoulders again. It must have showed, because Flux immediately backpedaled.
"Oh, uh... Sorry, Buck," Flux replied. "I spoke inappropriately."
Starshot made a gagging sound and stuck his hoof in his mouth. "Sweet Sisters, y'all pussies in here makin' me sick. This is what a Canterlot Prison has t'offer? Are ya' stallions or foals? Getting sentimental about mares? Really? Mares is just trouble."
Black Quartz opened her mouth to retort, but before she could say anything Flux stood up quickly. Buckboard scooted away slightly -- Flux was notorious for his temper.
"What's that, Starry?" he bellowed.
Starshot stood up to face Flux and thrust a hoof toward Black Quartz. "I said mares is all whores, 'as what I said."
Flux immediately threw a sharp left jab at the unicorn, but Starshot dodged backward and took a fighting stance. Flux kicked the table away into another table nearby, spilling all of the food trays with a loud clatter. Buckboard frowned at his former meal, now strewn across the ponies seated at the other table, who in turn had immediately turned around to see who had the nerve to interrupt them. After seeing who was involved, they all backed off, giving plenty of space for any ensuing melee.
Starshot, either unaware or uncaring of Flux’s reputation in the prison, simply stared at the earth pony, taunting him. "Strike a nerve, did it, dirt eater? Lemme tell you more about mares. In fact, let me tell ya something about your mares," he said, gesturing at the gathered stallions. "They ain't waiting for ya. They left ya', off bucking a buncha stallions who're actually worth a shit. I mean, really, who would wait for a dumb stallion who can't eve—"
Flux made a swift buck with his hooves that Starshot didn't expect, cutting off the mouthy unicorn instantly. Cheers erupted from several prisoners as the sickening crack of hoof meeting muzzle echoed off of the walls. Starshot staggered backwards from the blow to his jaw, while a split in his lip started dribbling crimson onto the gray stone floor. Still, he managed to keep himself upright. He stared back at Flux defiantly.
Now the fight had begun in earnest. An alarm started going off in the distance signaling the guards. Starshot wasted no time, feinting to one side and then dashing to the other as he closed the distance between himself and Flux in the blink of an eye. Flux yelped in pain as Starshot slammed his horn into Flux's shoulder, puncturing deep into his flesh.
Buckboard was torn. Flux could handle himself, and guards were going to be on the scene any minute, but this fight had nearly immediately turned into something that could be life-threatening. Starshot had immediately escalated to potentially lethal brawling tactics; even though the unicorn had pierced Flux's shoulder, Starshot had been clearly aiming for the neck.
"Buck, don’t," he heard Black Quartz caution - as if she was reading his mind.
But no. There was no time to wait for the guards. It would take a couple minutes before enough of them arrived for them to willingly enter a brawl. Buckboard dove in from the side, boxing Starshot in the flank with his front hooves as he entered the fray. The little unicorn proved to be rather quick, spinning around and lashing out at Buckboard with his horn and scoring another solid hit to Buckboard's own flank.
Starshot wrenched his horn out of the fresh wound. As the horn withdrew, the twisting caused the suppressor ring upon it to tear wickedly into the flesh around the initial puncture itself. Buckboard reeled as a searing pain exploded from the wound.
Buckboard had not expected the small unicorn to be quite so quick. Even without the aid of his magic, he was willingly taking on the two much larger earth ponies. Starshot's horn was proving to be quite the advantage in a scrap, effectively offering a weapon his opponents did not have access to. Flux and Buckboard stood to either side in front of the little unicorn, both trying to shrug off the immense pain of their wounds as Starshot stood, waiting for either of them to make the next move.
Flux's tail whipped to the side. Buckboard nodded at the signal - an old signal the Syndicate crews had once used when 'interrogating' ponies years ago. Buckboard whipped his tail back at Flux, and the two reared up in unison, ready to trample the unicorn underhoof from both sides. The unicorn lunged forward beneath Buckboard, attempting to spear his horn into Buck's vulnerable chest, but Buckboard had anticipated that, boxing the unicorn's horn with a hoof as it passed underneath.
Starshot's head was forced to the side as his horn was struck, throwing the little unicorn entirely off balance. Buckboard felt the weight of his body land on the unicorn beneath him, and the lopsided distribution of weight caused them both to collapse to the ground. The sickening crack of a fractured rib could be heard as Buckboard landed on the small unicorn.
Buckboard rolled off of the prone unicorn and slowly pulled himself back to his hooves, wincing as his flank throbbed painfully. Starshot didn't move, groaning in agony. Flux began shouting obscenities at the downed unicorn as Buckboard backed away. The fight was effectively over, but that didn't stop Flux from continuing to bat the unicorn's head around as he shouted.
Buckboard and Black Quartz didn't resist as a half-dozen guards arrived. Flux put up a token resistance, and Starshot was unable to put up any resistance at all. In short order, all four of them had been cuffed.
"Remember what we talked about?" Quartz hissed at him as the guards led them away. "How is this making yourself better?!"
Buck tried to ignore Black Quartz’ criticisms as he was hauled away - likely to solitary confinement - but he knew deep inside that she had a point. What would his wife and son think of him if they saw him like this?
"He doesn’t like you," Salvage blurted out as he and Scarlet Ribbon walked down the east wing.
"He left in the middle of the night," Scarlet muttered, her mind clearly elsewhere. "He didn’t even say goodbye."
Salvage raised an eyebrow. "I meant Silver Key."
"... oh," Scarlet replied, stopping for a moment. "We have a history," she continued as her walking resumed.
"Old coltfriend or something?"
"No, but we were classmates in college. Arcane Engineering 501; pretty advanced stuff. We worked together for one of the biggest projects in the class: a new kind of magic suppressor."
Green, lifeless eyes flashed briefly in Salvage's mind — those who had been suppressed by Sombra, subjugated and forced into a lifetime of slavery. He shuddered. "A device like that shouldn't exist."
Scarlet nodded. "I wasn't really a big fan of it, to be honest. The school was always working on projects that had practical application, selling the results to the highest bidder. Often, the projects were assigned based on the details of large contracts being offered to the school."
"Why would anypony need a magic suppression ring?"
As they turned another corner, Scarlet tilted her head to look at him. "Prior to that, existing methods of magic suppression had been only partially effective - enough to level the playing field in sports, but not enough to stop someone who made a concentrated effort to overcome it. And those were voluntary."
"Our assignment was to develop something that would increase prison security. The specific project was Silver's idea. In hindsight, he's always been a harsh authoritarian, but what I didn’t know at the time, was that he wanted to use it to suppress ponies permanently."
Another vision came to Salvage's mind - one of piles of dead corpses. Sombra's personal solution for 'permanent' suppression. He stopped walking, his jaw falling open as he simply stared at her.
Scarlet stopped, but continued speaking, oblivious to his discomfort. "When I figured out a new method of magic suppression by utilizing a horn ring with a special magical matrix engraved on it, he wanted it to be unremovable. He argued that criminals shouldn’t be able to remove their own rings, and that they didn't deserve to be able to. He might as well have been arguing for horn amputation."
Salvage winced. "I'm guessing there's no prosthetic for that sort of thing," he said, glancing back at his missing leg.
"No, there isn't." Scarlet paused for a moment, but then continued right on with her story. "I was concerned about what would happen if we designed a ring like that and then it fell into the hooves of the wrong ponies, so I created a counter-spell for it. While it couldn’t be cast by the pony wearing the ring, it could be invoked by any other unicorn simply by knowing the pass-phrase for that specific ring. He was livid, but I stood firm."
He was beginning to think this mare might have an ego problem. Did she always brag so much at the drop of a hat like this? Or was she just trying to make herself look good? On the other hoof, maybe she was just lonely and needed somepony to talk to.
One way or the other, Scarlet plowed forward with her boastful retelling. "What he didn’t know is that I also added a master override for the Princesses. If Alicorn magic comes into contact with the ring, it will automatically release itself."
"That seems reasonable," Salvage agreed. "As long as none of the Princesses turn evil again." He recoiled at Scarlet's resultant glare. "Apologies, but... Nightmare Moon is still a little bit real to me."
Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "She hasn't been real to us here in Equestria in a very long time, but that didn't stop Silver Key. When he found out about the override, he flew into a rage. He always was a bit of a conspiracy nut who believes Celestia may some day be a threat to Equestria and that, should it happen, the ring would be our best defense against her. I'm not so sure; extensive tests showed that the ring suppresses 98.2% of magical energy, but Celestia’s magical output is so strong that I’m not sure it would make a difference."
Salvage stopped walking, staring at Scarlet as she continued walking without him. "Is Celestia’s magic really that potent?" he called out.
"I’m not sure," Scarlet replied they rounded a corner and began approaching a large, ornate door made of brass. "To be honest, I’ve never had the opportunity to test the true limits of her magical prowess, and I’m not even sure I could devise an experiment that could measure it properly."
With a flick of her horn, the great door to Scarlet’s workshop slid open. She nodded toward the massive chamber with her horn and Salvage scampered to catch up.
An orange pegasus trotted happily down the corridor of Canterlot Castle's southwest wing, saddlebags overflowing with books. A small tin bucket sat on her head like a helmet, not quite obscuring her vision. Each hooffall caused the handle to clatter against the side, tapping out a steady rhythm that she sang along to in an offkey warble. Her serenade reached no ears, but she didn't care, happily continuing down the hallway. Upon arriving at the library, she turned sharply toward the doors.
The Canterlot Castle Library, despite the name, was not terribly impressive. Unlike the other book repositories within the castle, such as the Canterlot Royal Archives, the Library was a simple affair, with nothing more than a large collection of ordinary books, sitting on ordinary shelves, arranged in a rather ordinary fashion. Non-fiction, alphabetized by subject matter and author, dominated the majority of the library. The fiction section, relatively small and organized solely by genre, sat in a relatively quaint squared-off section in the back corner of the library, next to a few simple wooden reading couches.
Likewise, it also wasn’t very impressive compared to the library outside the castle, either. Due to it not being confined to a small portion of the palace, the Canterlot Public Library was a massive spiral structure that dwarfed the Canterlot Castle Library in size. It had a significantly larger fiction section, a much more comfortable reading area, but most importantly, you didn’t have to go through Castle Security to get inside. In short, it was far more accessible to the general public.
The pegasus stopped at the front desk, noticing the absent-minded and wistful expression of the librarian, Bookend, who was staring off toward one of the far wings of the library. Her song forgotten, the pegasus stopped her rhythmic trotting. Digging out her books, she looked up at Bookend curiously. On any normal day, he would immediately greet her with a smile, and perhaps some playful (if not always polite) social banter. And yet, today he didn't seem to acknowledge her presence at all.
Clink
Clink
Clink
She did a quick jig in place, rattling the bucket loudly. Bookend turned to face her, and a bewildered frown creased his lips. It was followed by a long sigh, and then "Jupiter, what the hell are you wearing?"
Jupiter removed the bucket from her head and her long, fiery-red mane tumbled out, obscuring her face. "What?" She shook her head violently, tossing her mane back as she did so.
"I said, ‘what the hell are you wearing?’"
She looked down at the object in her hooves and smiled. "This," she declared, "is a bucket." She dropped the object in question to the ground with a crash and immediately went to work fixing her mane.
Bookend rolled his eyes, picking the bucket from the floor and levitating it to his desk. "Yes, I can see that. But why were you wearing it?"
Jupiter grabbed a hair tie from her saddlebags and pulled her disheveled mane into a ponytail. "I had a song stuck in my head," she lied, nonchalantly. "It makes a great metronome when you move to the beat." Finished with her mane, her hooves dropped back to the floor. Noticing Bookend's incredulous expression, she decided to explain further. "Coach wants me to work on internalizing music," she explained, "so I figured I would be creative with it."
Bookend sighed in exasperation. "Internalization shouldn’t make a bunch of external noise," he lamented. "Especially not in the library, not that you would care about that. What are you trying to accomplish?"
Jupiter tried to formulate a story to frustrate the book-loving pony even further, but nothing immediately came to mind. He clearly didn’t believe most of her lies as it was, and she couldn’t tell him she had been heading to the Castle Gardens to steal some flowers to re-pot in her garden at home. He would probably stop her or get a guard involved; vandalizing the Garden was generally frowned upon. "I forgot," she declared, unable to find a suitably entertaining or believable response. Bookend knew full well that she was a lying, and Jupiter suspected as much, but that was fairly typical of their interactions: Jupiter antagonized, Bookend complained.
The librarian shook his head and walked slowly back to his desk. "Are you done with those books already?"
"Oh, yeah!" Jupiter replied, stacking the books she'd previously checked out on his desk. "I'm hoping to get some more, if you don't mind."
"Oh, I'm sure you are," Bookend laughed dryly. "Though, I do wonder how Professor Aurora would react if she knew there was a child who had read every book she has published."
Jupiter’s cheeks puffed out. "I'm almost sixteen, you know. I'm not a child anymore."
"Sorry, sorry," Bookmark replied, nodding. "So, what did you think about your latest haul?"
"Oh, it was great!" Jupiter shuffled through the small collection of books, pulling out Exotic Herbs and Tinctures . "You wouldn't believe how many cool plants I found in this one! Did you know the blue Poison Joke flower found near the Everfree Forest is just one variety of the plant? There are other colors, too, and you can find them in all sorts of strange places throughout Equestria, and some of them are super, super rare. Like the red one, which is used to make a lot of..." she trailed off, noticing that Bookend wasn't really paying attention. His gaze had slowly drifted to the bookshelves in the back again. "Books?" she said, waving a hoof. "Helloooo? Is something wrong?"
Bookend snapped his attention back to her. Jupiter immediately sensed something was wrong; normally Bookend always gave her his undivided attention, even when she came in intentionally pushing his buttons, like usual. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, holding his breath before letting it all out in another sigh. "No, I'm fine," he answered morosely. The filly wasn't buying it.
Jupiter fluttered up to stand on his desk, jamming her nose into his face, her eyes going wide with excitement. "... It's a mare, isn't it?" she accused. He immediately pushed her off the desk with a burst from his horn, and Jupiter had to flap her wings desperately to keep from suddenly crashing to the floor. She settled into a hover several inches off the ground and smiled. "Yep, totally called it."
Bookend scowled. "No, no. It's nothing like that," he lamented, resting a hoof on a piece of parchment on his desk. "There was ... Well, there's a little unicorn colt that just came in. I didn’t recognize him at all, and I was caught up in thinking how irresponsible it was for his parents to let him run around alone..."
The lack of accessibility meant Canterlot Castle Library only rarely had young patrons. Most of the regulars were lawyers and intellectuals, often searching for something to leverage in court; on the rare occasion that a younger pony was in the Castle Library, it was usually just the inquisitive child of a pony who worked or lived in the castle - the category that Jupiter fell into. Jupiter wracked her brain, trying to think of any new employees that had recently started fresh at the castle who might have brought more foals into the castle. The only one she could think of was Souffle, the new apprentice chef, who had twins. She had already met them, though. They were cute little bundles of fun, but far too young to be out and about alone, much less reading.
"I'm pretty sure he was deaf, though," Bookend continued, "and I haven't ever heard of any deaf foals among the castle staff. He was extremely polite, but he wore a saddlebag that was, for lack of a better word, unrefined..." he hesitated, eyeing her. Jupiter suddenly became somewhat self-conscious of the bucket she'd been wearing moments prior.
"... You think he was deaf?"
"Yes, a deaf unicorn." He gestured to a flat, tan object on his desk. Jupiter looked closer. It was a ragged piece of vellum that appeared to have been torn haphazardly from a larger roll. The ink was a cheap kind that didn't set well and was already slightly smeared. Overall, the shoddy quality of the materials contrasted sharply with the elegant script penned to it, with neat, cursive lettering.
Hello, Sir. Do you have any books on sewing? it read. Bookmark's reply below was significantly less polished, but still clean and legible, offering directions to the shelves that contained books on handmade crafts. Below that, was a grandiose flourish that read Thank you .
"Sewing? A little colt sewing? Oh, that sounds cute! Was that his cutie mark?"
"He didn't have one that I noticed. Anyway, I wrote directions to get to the books he wanted, and he went on his way."
"You wrote the directions down, and he just left them here?" Jupiter asked. Bookmark nodded. "Yes." His voice dropped low as he continued, "To be honest, it bothers me that any mother would let her foal run around the castle unsupervised at his age."
"I run around the castle alone all the time, you know."
"Well, sure, but you're a fair bit older than he is." He grinned widely. "After all, you're nearly sixteen!" There was a subtle sarcasm in his last comment that Jupiter knew was a jab at her previous complaint, but she resisted the temptation to respond to it. Jupiter's mother's overbearing concern for her safety resulted in strict rules regarding what she was allowed to do outside of school hours. Those rules lead her to being bound to the castle until her mother was done with work for the day, and since she couldn't go out and fly, she often would sit around and read. Being constantly cooped up in the castle left Jupiter with few friends, but plenty of opportunity to make a ruckus. Unsurprisingly, she had a reputation for being a troublemaker amongst the castle staff.
She frowned. "Is he still here? Maybe he wants someone to play with!"
"Well, he arrived just before you did, and I haven't noticed him leave."
"I'm going to go talk to him!" Jupiter declared, and promptly bounded off, following the directions Bookmark had given the colt.
"Hey, no running in the library!"
"Then I'll fly!" she replied defiantly, taking wing.
In the back corner of the library, the young colt in question sat at a large table, concentrating intently on the needle and thread in front of him. A small bolt of cloth was unravelled next to his pack along with a pair of scissors, a small spool of thread, and a few other odds and ends. He was carefully stitching the hem of a tiny cloak, frequently stopping to compare his work to a diagram in the book next to him. Jupiter noticed him immediately as she flew by, forcing her to make an abrupt landing. She fluffed out her wings and then folded them as she trotted cheerfully over to him. The colt didn't acknowledge her, still concentrating on his work. Jupiter wasn’t even certain he had seen her.
It was rare to see other children in the castle and Jupiter was hoping to find a new playmate to spend time with, but now that she had found him, she didn't know how to start. As she sized him up she also noticed that he wasn't her age at all, and was even younger than she had expected. At least three years younger, she guessed; right around the age foals started developing cutie marks. She glanced down at his flank and confirmed a complete absence of design - a bare, orange-brown coat, with a sandy brown tail sticking out.
No mark. Just like me, she thought to herself.
As Jupiter watched, she could see he was carefully stitching the hem of a tiny cloak, frequently stopping to compare his work to a diagram in the book next to him. She fluffed out her wings and then folded them as she trotted cheerfully over to him, but the colt didn't acknowledge her, still concentrating on his work. Jupiter wasn’t even certain he had seen her.
The colt remained engrossed in his work as she tried to come up with a way to start the conversation. She didn't know Equestrian Sign Language, and she had no paper to write on. Could he read lips? Should she just tap on his shoulder, or would that be rude? How do you introduce yourself to a deaf pony? Her thoughts raced as she considered her options, but she couldn't find an answer she liked. "Ugh, what am I doing?" she mumbled in frustration. "How do I talk to him!?"
He finished working on the cloak that he had been so intently focused on and started fitting it to the wooden doll. The quality of the finished cloak was much like the doll itself — crude and unpolished — yet Jupiter found herself admiring its simplicity. The colt finished, and carefully stood the doll upright on the table, appraising the finished product. It was charmingly hoof-crafted, if not particularly well-made.
"Oh Celestia, that's so cute," Jupiter breathed, impressed that any young colt would even attempt to sew an article for a doll. The colt nodded and levitated the doll over to her as she leaned in to examine it in detail. Engrossed in analyzing his hoofwork, she didn't even notice as the unicorn started shuffling things around in his satchel.
It was the movement of a quill levitating out of the child's bag that caught Jupiter's attention next, as it suddenly dawned on her that he was clearly aware of her presence. A blush spread across her cheeks and she giggled nervously, uncertain of what to do now that he had noticed her. From the pack, the colt had drawn another ragged piece of parchment and he quickly scribbled out a note, handing it to her. Jupiter's eyes darted across the script, absorbing the first words of her new acquaintance.
Hello. My name is Fletcher. I overheard you and the librarian talking. I am not deaf. I'm mute. It is nice to meet you!
Like the page Bookmark had, the text was impeccably written, despite the colt's extremely fast pace with a pen.
Jupiter looked away from the page to see Fletcher grinning broadly. So he had heard her the whole time! Her blush intensified, and she stood there paralyzed, trying to suppress the urge to fly away in embarrassment. His grin faded slowly as he waited for a response. Jupiter caught herself staring at him and struggled for words.
"Umm... Hi, Fletcher," she stammered. "I'm, uh... I'm Jupiter. Are you... always mute?" Fletcher frowned and tilted his head as Jupiter mentally cursed herself for such a stupid question. Now that it was spoken, there wasn't much she was going to be able to do but apologize.
"I'm… really sorry." Jupiter scrambled for a different subject. What should she talk about? Her eyes wandered over to his doll momentarily. It was the only starting point she had without focusing on his disability. "Umm... I think your doll is really cute. Did you make it yourself?" Jupiter was relieved to see Fletcher's smile return as he levitated two more quills out of his pack and started writing with all three at the same time, trading letters with each quill as he wrote.
The effect was strangely hypnotic as the quills danced across the page, and Jupiter had to force her eyes away from them to actually read what Fletcher was writing.
The doll's name is Birch, even though he's actually made out of apple wood from Appleloosa, where my extended family lives. He's my best friend, and I take him everywhere. The large, elegant penmanship was filling the page rapidly, and Fletcher drew another parchment from his bag, continuing on without hesitation.
Jupiter watched in awe as he continued to write at a blisteringly fast pace, the three quills dancing together in unison. "You're really good at writing," she blurted. His eyes rolled as he continued. Jupiter covered her mouth with her hoof. Of course he'd be good at writing - it was his primary mode of communication. How many stupid things could she say in one meeting? Would he keep count? She hoped not as she went back to reading.
I don't live here in Canterlot, but I'm here with my mom today. She's visiting my grandfather here at the castle. That confirmed Jupiter's suspicion; his grandfather worked here. Some of Celestia's staff would come in from outside of Canterlot, staying a week and then returning home for the weekend. At least that would explain why she didn't usually see him here.
Birch told me it is cold so high up on the mountainside and I wanted to make him some clothes so he could be warm. Since I didn't know how to sew, I got some stuff at the fabric store, and then I came here to find books that would teach me how to do it. The colt stopped his rapid-fire writing and looked up, smiling.
"But the fabric store is outside the castle. Your mother just lets you roam around all of Canterlot?"
The colt nodded his head and started writing again. I can go wherever I want, but I don’t like loud spaces and the public library was loud and busy. I came to the castle library because I wanted a quiet place to work on my doll.
"And that's why you're here," Jupiter gestured toward the city outside the castle, "and not at the library out there." The colt nodded affirmatively.
A mix of bitterness and jealousy stirred in Jupiter's heart. In front of her was a colt whose mother offered him unsupervised freedom, despite his disability, and he was clearly years younger than she was. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that it was her mother that was the problem.
"Well, since you're here, do you want to play in the garden?" she asked.
Fletcher shook his head. I don't think I should. I told my mom I'd be here in the library, he wrote, then frowned. I really would like to, though. Not many ponies play with me because of my disability.
Jupiter scowled in frustration. "You can go anywhere you want, she’ll find you! I mean, how hard can it be to find a colt that has a doll and talks by writing with three pens?!" Fletcher flinched at her outburst, and she immediately realized how mean that could have been taken. "Sorry!" she blurted, panicking. Oh, he's going to hate me now. I should just leave before I make things worse. She turned back toward the entrance and spread her wings, getting ready to take off. She launched herself upward, oblivious to the magic anchoring her tail. Her tail went taut, and she was pulled backwards violently, forcing her to brace for a rough landing.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch..." she muttered, the base of her tail aching. As she recovered from the sudden impact, Jupiter glanced backwards to see her tail enveloped in the colt's magic. And then she noticed Fletcher staring right at her flank, his eyes wide as saucers. The look of concentration on his face was so serious that she forgot she had been running away, collapsing to the ground in a fit of giggles. The colt blushed furiously as he realized what he was staring at, turning his head away and releasing his magic. Jupiter continued to roll around on the floor in hysterics as his distress seemed to deepen.
"So," Jupiter said, trying to get hold of herself, "So. Do you like what you see?" She sat up and wiped tears from her eyes, still laughing as the colt turned a brighter shade of red. A flurry of pages and quills levitated out of Fletcher's bag, and a repeated scrawl started etching into the pages.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorr-
"Oh, no, no, no," Jupiter said, realizing what he was doing. She stood up and stepped over to the panicked colt, giving him a peck on the cheek. The colt’s cheeks flushed and he redoubled his efforts to apologize, but Jupiter cut him off, pulling his face up with a hoof. Now face to face with the colt, she could read a nervousness in his expression that told her he probably wasn’t actually used to socializing with fillies. Or maybe just wasn't terribly used to socializing at all.
"Hey," she whispered softly. "It's alright. I'm used to boys staring at me." She paused, her mirth fading as a torrent of unwelcome memories came flooding back.
The glances had always started with her flank, and as she had gotten older, just like she’d grown to expect, the glances from stallions had started to linger. At first, she’d enjoyed the attention; it felt nice to be attractive. Sure, some gazes had lingered longer than others, but she dealt with it well enough. Her attractiveness had helped her gain respect among her peers - Canterlot’s high society had that effect: Looks were power.
But as she had grown older, she began to stand out. A blank flank was a constant curiosity on a filly her age, and soon all the respect she had once had began to crumble under the one damning sign that she had nothing to offer to society.
Of course, it didn’t take long for the positive aspects of her attractiveness to backfire, either. Those same gazes she was once able to shrug off as ‘normal’ before became more frequent, more persistent, more damning. More lewd.
"Hey, babe. There’s something on my flank you want and there’s something on your flank I want. Care to make a deal?"
One of the colts in her class had begun constantly making crude remarks. She shuddered any time she recalled his proposition. She soon found that the attention was no longer wanted at all, good or bad. Ponies rarely complimented her on her looks without twisting everything into insults instead, like the old lecher across the street from her house.
"Heya girl, that’s a nice flank! Too bad there’s nothing there to look at!"
It wasn’t long before the attention from stallions began to bother other mares, too. Their own attempts at fashion, gussying themselves up for the stallions, was a lost cause. By having no mark at all, she wore a mark of innocence that appealed to many stallions’ base desires, and no high-class fashion would take their gazes away.
Some mares held her in contempt, accusing her of hiding her cutie mark because she enjoyed the attention. Others were more direct, like the bitter, middle-aged noblemare who shared her mother’s office.
"You should cover up, dearie. This isn’t a whorehouse."
Those words had made Jupiter shudder with shame and anger. Even the well-to-do maidservants around the castle would glare at her judgmentally, openly accusing her of fishing for attention.
The truth of the matter was that Jupiter made a scene around the castle so often because at least then the scene she was causing would be under her own control. Jupiter didn't want to be in the castle at all! She resented being a member of high society.
But most of all, she hated cutie marks.
"It's alright," Jupiter repeated, morosely. "I'm used to getting stares. After all... it's normal to get glances from boys." She looked at Fletcher, tears blurring her vision. "Isn't it?"
Fletcher sat, his quills and paper floating by his side, seemingly unsure what to write. Jupiter was about to cry, and here he was just staring at her in childish confusion. The quills and paper dropped to the floor, and his hoof stretched out to pull her into a hug.
It was a simple gesture, but reassuring. She leaned into Fletcher's hooves as he embraced her gently, and a firestorm of conflicting emotions bubbled just under the surface. Due to her station and circumstances, she had virtually no playmates. Now that she felt she was bonding with a pony her own age - well, at least not an adult - she realized one thing she truly lacked: friends.
In Canterlot society, her lack of a cutie mark made her a target of derision. Outside with the ‘normal’ ponies, it was hard to make friends because of her mother’s status. Not many parents would just let their children spend time at her house for fear of retribution if the kids somehow did something improper. Jupiter was sure she would have to let Fletcher go once his parents were involved. She returned Fletcher's embrace, squeezing him tightly and not wanting to let go.
Let go? she thought to herself, sinking further into Fletcher’s innocent embrace. An idea jumped to her mind. I won’t. I won't let him go. She inhaled sharply and held it in until she'd regained control of herself.
"Y'know, my mom works here," she said with a sniffle. "Like your granddad does. I always stop by the castle after my classes and then mom and I go to dinner together on the way home." She leaned away from him and stood back up to face him. Was he thinking of something? Should she stop and let him write? Several seconds passed, but he just watched her, so she continued. "I wanted to know... if you could join my family for dinner with your mom and dad tonight?"
Fletcher frowned, fumbling about with his magic for one of his quills and a page.
I would like to. I doubt that I can, but I'll ask my mom.
The storm overhead unleashed a torrent of rain that hindered vision considerably, and the wagon team was working their way up one last, final hill before they reached their destination.
It was almost time.
Flywheel looked at his travelling companions. Above, two pegasi lifted the wagon as much as they could as they flew through the rain in misery. He smiled, knowing that he'd paid off one of them to help him get away with his plan, though it bothered him that he couldn't quite recall which one. Which would be his ally in the next few minutes? Hopefully it wouldn't matter.
He turned to look at his mark. Tea Garden and Hammerhoof strained mightily at the yoke, pulling the wagon slowly and deliberately toward the top of the hill. Tea Garden’s gray coat was nearly black in the poor light, and a flash of lightning revealed her legs were caked in mud. Hammerhoof's bright red coat stood in stark contrast as the flash faded away. An ominous rumbling thundered over the roar of the downpour.
I'm going to kill the bastard, Flywheel thought to himself. He smiled, watching Hammerhoof intently until the wagon reached the crest of the hill. Shadefall Hill was much steeper going down the other side, and this week's load was a particularly heavy one. He'd spent two months analyzing the curves on the far slope of the hill, waiting for the right conditions to make his move.
"Careful now," Moonshine called from beside him. Her voice was like a touch of heaven upon his ears in the deafening rain. "In these conditions, the far side of the slope is going to be extremely slick."
Flywheel sighed, listening to the voice of his goddess. He could listen to that voice for the rest of his life and never tire. Her youthful beauty fueled his passion. It was obvious: Hammerhoof needed to be removed from the picture - and soon he would be. And then Flywheel would take Moonshine as his own.
Moonshine had no idea just how right she was. That slope was going to be dangerous. And if all went according to plan, fatal.
"I don't like this. We’re gonna need you to lighten the load as much as you can," Tea Garden called. Tea Garden was always the one to worry. Flywheel was reasonably certain Tea Garden was on to his plans. There was always someone on to his plans. He couldn't afford any mistakes this time.
"Yeah, we're trying," called one of the pegasi from behind. Flywheel didn't recognize either Pegasus' voice, nor did he care. They were both idiots. Useful idiots, but idiots nonetheless, so it didn't matter. His sabotage was already in place.
"We're ready!" Was that the same Pegasus? Flywheel still didn't care. Today was all about killing Hammerhoof, making it look like an accident, and then claiming what should be rightfully his.
The wagon was stopped precariously at the crest of the hill. Flywheel watched with trepidation as the Earth Ponies tested their traction on the slope ahead. A spark of excitement shot down his spine as he watched Tea Garden's hoof slide ever so slightly in the muck.
This was his moment.
Flywheel leaned back and relaxed, watching Moonshine intently. The unicorn mare was so beautiful when she was stressed, angry, or upset. That gorgeous, dark gray coat, nearly invisible in the dim light of the storm; it was only during the brief flashes of lightning that Flywheel could make out the outline of her fine curves.
Both Earth Ponies said something, but Flywheel wasn't paying them any mind now. His goddess simply called out to them, "the wagon is cresting," in the way that she often did, and that was all that mattered to him. Her sweet voice, washed out by the wind and rain, where he was the only one close enough to truly savor it.
He worshipped her with silent reverence, ignoring all of the sound and activity around him. The wagon started to list slightly to the side, but Flywheel paid it no mind. Losing control was part of the plan, and everything was going according to plan. Moonshine glared at him, her shining, golden eyes peering into his very soul and fanning the flames of his heart. Those passionate eyes...
"Flywheel!" She cried out for him. Flywheel smiled.
She had called his name.
"We need help here!"
She needed him. She had said so herself.
"What?" Flywheel shook himself out of his trance with a shudder. He still had something to do, and the moment needed to be perfect.
"SLOW THE WAGON DOWN!" she screamed.
The yelling of the Earth Ponies ahead was of no consequence to Flywheel as he reveled in the bliss of her passionate, fearful cries, fueling his desire for her all over again. But none of those pleas would convince him to stop now. He focused his eyes forward. The curve was coming and the wagon was already losing control.
It was time to execute his plan.
"Flywheel!" Moonshine yelled right in his ear. "I need your help!"
I am helping. You just don't know it yet. He'll be gone soon enough.
Moonshine grabbed his brake lever with her magic, trying to slow the wagon on her own.
That wasn't the plan. She CAN'T be allowed to ruin the plan.
He immediately grabbed the brake himself and applied as much force as he could muster, instantly locking the wheel, and forcing the already unstable load to swing wildly out of control.
Sheer chaos erupted around him. Ponies were yelling, the wagon was whipping about uncontrollably, and one of the Pegasi had just abandoned the wagon. Flywheel looked ahead. There was the tree . The massive, thick oak tree he'd hedged his entire plan on. This was his moment: if Hammerhoof ended up between the tree and the cart, it would crush him to death instantly.
He reached out with his magic, grabbing the entire wagon. A massive flare erupted from his horn as he poured his entire being into angling the wagon just right and slamming it into the tree as hard as he could.
An ear-shattering crack filled the air as he felt himself thrown from the wagon. He tucked into a ball as the ground came up to meet him, unyielding. He bounced violently away and rolled to a stop a fair distance from the wreck. The world around him had erupted into a massive cloud of white powder that caught the raindrops coming down. It was like the sky itself was crying over the massacre, in thick, white rivulets. Flywheel smiled as he struggled to his feet, keen on seeing the results of his grand design.
Jupiter sat quietly outside her mother's office, brooding over her mother's tardiness. It was extremely unusual for her mother to run this late, and the presence of the two royal guards flanking either side of the door suggested that at least one of the princesses was involved. If she had known she would be sitting here for the last forty-five minutes waiting, she would have stayed to talk with Fletcher longer.
The two had ultimately spent a couple of hours in the library discovering the many experiences they had in common. Both of them had been ostracized from their peers, between Jupiter's missing cutie mark and Fletcher's missing voice, but it was Fletcher's mention of his father that really generated a bonding experience.
It all started with Fletcher's mention of his father's constant absence. As Jupiter asked questions, she found that Fletcher's father had been constantly out hauling goods across Equestria, and would be gone for weeks at a time. Fletcher had nice memories of his father, of course, but he felt that his mom was overworked and deserved a break. He was obviously bitter about what he perceived to be his father's abandonment of their family, and Jupiter could relate to that. Her own parents were divorced when she was nine, and while that gave her plenty of opportunity to know her father, most of her memories of him involved her parents fighting. After the divorce, he had literally never attempted to contact either of them, leaving Jupiter's mother to raise her alone for years.
When that subject had ultimately become a bit depressing, Fletcher had changed the subject to books. Jupiter loved books about botany, astronomy, romance, and horror novels. Fletcher loved books about archery, arts and crafts, history, and science. Apart from a few classics, neither of them had ever read the same books. Their reading preferences ultimately had little overlap, but the shared interest in reading kept them occupied for a fair bit.
Jupiter perked up as the doors to mother's office opened and Princess Celestia stepped out. Jupiter knelt down as the princess passed by, her guards trailing behind. Celestia nodded to Jupiter, but otherwise passed by in silence.
"Jupiter," her mom called sternly. "Please come in." It wasn't a request. Jupiter stepped cautiously into the office, wondering if she had gotten herself into trouble with the Princess somehow. It wouldn't be the first time. The familiar office seemed ominous now, as if something terrible was about to happen. She sat down in front of her mother's desk, trying her best not to accidentally swallow her own tongue.
"What is it, Mom?" Jupiter asked timidly.
Her mother smiled at her strangely, setting Jupiter on edge. "We're going to play a game." She gestured to a suit of armor sitting off to the side of her desk. It was one of the armored suits worn by the Lunar Guard. Jupiter had always loved how cool the Lunar Guards looked, often daydreaming about becoming one when she grew up, even though her relatively poor flying skill would probably disqualify her.
This isn't like her. Mom doesn't play games, Jupiter thought. Why isn't she ever honest with me?
"What kind of 'game' is this?"
"I just figured it would be fun for you to play dress-up for a while. It'll make tonight's trip to Ponyville less boring, don't you think? You've always wanted to dress up as a Lunar Guard!"
Not really, Jupiter thought to herself. But Ponyville? Isn't that where Fletcher was from? It no longer mattered what her mother was up to.
"Okay!" Jupiter replied happily. Of course, there was only one train going to Ponyville tonight, so Fletcher was bound to be on it... but wasn't the train supposed to be leaving in just over an hour? They wouldn't have time to go to their usual dinner. She frowned.
"Is something wrong?" mother asked.
"I'm kinda hungry and the train leaves soon. I was looking forward to the Terrace Greenery for dinner."
"Hmm..." Scarlet hummed. "I think we can make that work."
"Yay!" Jupiter cheered.
"A nice meal would be great," came a low voice from behind her, startling her. She reflexively kicked back with her hooves, and then jumped to the side and spun around, casting about for the owner of the voice, her heart thundering in her chest. A few paces behind her was a large, rough-looking crystal pony she hadn't met before. She must have narrowly missed him with her kick, but he didn't seem to be fazed at all. "Hello there," he continued. "Pleased to meet you. You can call me Salvage." His harsh face drew into a smile that didn't quite take the edge off of his demeanor. "That's quite the quick reaction you have there. There's some nice form in that kick."
He stared her straight in the eye as he spoke. His confidence was aggravating, and Jupiter wasn't sure if she should yell at him or ignore him. At least he didn't seem to be leering at her flank like so many other males. Her heart was still pounding as she took a couple of deep breaths.
"Are you alright?" he asked. His look of concern seemed genuine.
Jupiter didn't care to explain to a stranger why she had issues with being snuck up on. Her experiences relating to her lack of cutie mark were absolutely not his business. Her mother forced an obvious cough, and Jupiter realized she was being rude to the stranger.
"Um... Okay. Hi. I'm Jupiter. You already heard that from my mom, though." He nodded and Jupiter turned away and sat on the other side of the room while her mother and Salvage spoke further.
She sighed as she waited. Her mother was clearly dragging her off on a date again. Impatient, she withdrew one of the new books she'd checked out from the library and began flipping through it. Salvage and her mother continued to talk in quiet voices, never seeming to acknowledge her again.
Jupiter glanced at the armor again. Letting her dress up as a Lunar Guard was obviously just her mom's way of apologizing for it. Still, dressing as a Lunar Guard and riding on a train with Fletcher? That was pretty much the perfect opportunity to mess with him! She could put up with one of her mom's dates for that.
Aside from the thunderstorm, the only sounds Moonshine could hear were the sloshing of hooves through mud and the occasional barked command from various ponies. As the team worked their way to the crest of Shadefall Hill, Moonshine evaluated the condition of the ill-maintained path below. What was normally a dirt road had become a slurry of mud that didn't look like it would provide much traction, and the relentless rain wasn't going to help any time soon. "Careful now," she called forward. "In these conditions, the far side of the slope is going to be extremely slick."
Hammerhoof, her fiance, halted the wagon at the crest of the hill and looked down. Tea Garden, the other Earth Pony, stepped gingerly onto the slope. The mud caused her hoof to slide slightly before finding any purchase. "I don't like this," she called back to the Pegasus ponies above. "We’re gonna need you to lighten that load as much as you can."
"Yeah, we're trying," called Forager, a dark green pegasus that was one of Moonshine’s best friends and lovers. The sound of pegasus wings flapping violently briefly cut through the white noise that was the rain.
"We're ready", the other Pegasus, Cloudfall, called down in a strained voice. Moonshine knew this was risky. The Pegasi wouldn't be able to lift as easily with so much rain wetting their wings, and Shadefall Hill was troublesome even in good conditions. As soon as the wagon crested, the Pegasi needed to lift the cargo, pulling up and away from the front of the wagon to fight the wagon's gravitational desire to speed down the hill as fast as it could go.
Hammerhoof took a gentle step forward, testing the surface for himself. "I'm not gonna call this 'good', but it's the best we've got." He glanced at his partner. "You ready, Tea?"
Tea Garden gingerly took another step. "It'll have to do."
As another lightning bolt tore apart the sky, both Earth Ponies stepped down once again onto the muddy slope. So far, so good. One more step. And then another. Moonshine inhaled sharply, prepared to give her usual signal.
The moment came.
"Wagon is cresting," Moonshine called out in warning. There was an explosion of wings flapping as the Pegasi strained against the harnesses. Moonshine's horn lit up as she telekinetically handled the mechanical device that operated the wagon's right side brakes. Braking properly for hills was nearly an art form, and the job of the Unicorns on a wagon team to ensure it was done properly - apply as much force as you can, but don’t lock the wheels.
Moonshine kept her eyes forward from her seat at the front of the wagon. She didn't want the weight of the wagon to push the entire group to unsafe speeds, but she couldn't let the wheels lock either, or the wagon could swing to the side and they would lose control entirely.
But the wagon was already listing anyway. Tea Garden stumbled to the side, losing her footing as one of her front legs flailed out wildly. The wagon lurched sharply away from her, threatening to swing around in front and start dragging the whole team down with it.
"Losing traction!" Hammerhoof hollered.
Moonshine quietly adjusted the braking, watching with concern as Tea Garden continued to scramble to get her footing. Hammerhoof forced himself to match Tea Garden's pace, but the wagon began to shift more and more to the side. Above, Cloudfall and Forager redoubled efforts to lift and pull as much as possible.
Something wasn't right. Flywheel didn't seem to be handling his brake properly. It didn’t matter what Moonshine did if her partner didn’t do their job. She hazarded a brief glance over at the older stallion, only to find he was in some sort of stupor, gazing toward her with glassy eyes - likely the drugs, again.
"Flywheel!" Moonshine yelled. "We need help here!"
"What?" he slurred.
"SLOW THE WAGON DOWN!"
Tea Garden, still struggling to find purchase, suddenly cried out in pain, "Ow, ow, ow, something's wrong with my leg! I'm losing it! Can't control it!"
"Shit, we're losing it!" Hammerhoof yelled.
"Flywheel!" Moonshine screeched, seeing that he hadn't even touched his brake. "I need your help!"
Flywheel didn't respond.
I have to do something, she thought.
Moonshine refocused her magic as she grasped both braking mechanisms and tried to get the wagon back under control. It was dangerous; magic wasn’t nearly as precise when focused on multiple tasks. She wanted to glare at Flywheel; to scream and yell and curse, but there was no time right now, and she couldn't spare to split her focus any more than she already had.
Without any warning, Flywheel suddenly sprung into action, grabbing his lever with his magic and slamming it all the way down. The wagon, already largely out of control, spun hard to the side as the wheel locked.
Completely taken aback by the stupidity of his actions, Moonshine tried to look where the cart was going, though it was no longer moving straight. Instead, it was sliding into a sharp corner with absolutely nothing stopping it from going straight into the trees! They needed to get things back under control or things were going to get ugly, fast.
But there was no time. A jumble of voices cried out as the wagon careened into the corner, completely beyond any hope of control.
"This is gonna get us killed. I'm out of here!"
"Wagon's coming around!"
"Come back here, ya coward!"
"Where are you going?"
"Curve, bank, turn, do something!"
"TREE!"
A massive flare of magic burst forth from Flywheel's horn as he grabbed the entire wagon telekinetically. Moonshine watched the wagon begin to roll, toppling straight toward Hammerhoof.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Moonshine panicked. Without even thinking, she released the brakes and grabbed Hammerhoof with her magic, throwing him out of the path of the wagon with all the force she could muster.
The horrible sound of splintering wood shattered her concentration as she found herself suddenly airborne. Her vision spun as the blackened, stormy sky replaced the muddy ground, only to be replaced by the ground again... sky, ground, a strangely white sky, and then nothing but agony. She shrieked in pain as she slammed into something and fell face down into the mud. It hurt like Tartarus, but she didn't feel anything break, and she had more pressing concerns.
Using her magic to clear the muck from her eyes, she listened intently for Hammerhoof's voice. Several groans were audible, but Hammerhoof's baritone sounds were distressingly absent. She forced herself to stand, wincing in pain and very nearly falling over again as her hooves struggled to find traction in the sludge. Carefully, she half-walked, half-slid toward the wreckage, wincing in pain the whole way. She would tend to her own injuries later; for now, Hammerhoof was her priority.
"Is everypony alright?" she called, listening for Hammerhoof's response and surveying the damage, hoping she wouldn't find his mangled body among the wreckage.
It wasn't a pretty sight. The landscape looked nearly alien. All around the site of the accident, the trees were covered in a white, gloopy sludge and a dense, white fog hung in the air ominously. The thick, white, paste-like substance -- a mixture of the cargo, whatever it was, and the rain -- was spread across the road and far off into the forest beyond the road's edge in all directions.
The cargo wagon itself was wrapped halfway around the tree, broken wood jutting out in all directions from the point of impact. On top of the wreckage, the harnesses designed for pegasus lifting were wrapped around the tree; one torn in half and hanging from a tree branch, the other connected to a dazed Forager, who laid on top of the remains of the wagon's bonnet, one of his wings bloodied and possibly broken. His eyes lacked focus, but he was conscious, moaning something incoherent.
At the front of the wagon, still in the broken forward harness, Tea Garden struggled to stay standing on a leg she apparently didn't want to put weight on, though Moonshine couldn't readily identify an injury. Next to the wagon, Hammerhoof lay in the muck, unmoving, his harness torn off completely. Moonshine worked her way over to him, calling out his name. He didn't respond, but as she approached she could see that he was - at the very least - still breathing.
Flywheel was nowhere to be seen, but somewhere nearby she heard him call out "I did it!" triumphantly, followed by a whoop. Moonshine ground her teeth, swallowing the urge to lash out at him. Flywheel was usually blown out of his mind, and reacted most inappropriately to the strangest of things. Hammerhoof was still her priority right now. She would rake Flywheel over the coals later.
The offending Unicorn stumbled onto the scene of the crash next to her. It was no wonder she hadn't seen him, as she realized his off-white coat blended in almost perfectly with the surroundings. Flywheel immediately kneeled down next to Hammerhoof, prodding at him. but then he stood up and heaved a sigh.
Rubbing his horn with a hoof, gazing around at the wreckage, his previously energy drained. "Shit, I burned out my horn," he complained, tapping it with a hoof and glancing down at Hammerhoof. "And accomplished fuck-all from the looks of it."
Moonshine snorted derisively, unable to control her tongue. She turned to him. "Maybe if you'd used your magic in the first place, we wouldn't have lost control, we wouldn't have just destroyed an entire load of cargo, we'd still have a wagon, and Hammerhoof wouldn't be hurt!"
The Unicorn's eyes went wide. "Shit, the cargo!" He stumbled off unsteadily toward the wagon bed, and Moonshine had to stifle a burning desire to set him ablaze with her magic. Instead, her horn began to glow with an intense golden fire as she concentrated on one of the few healing spells she knew, redirecting all of her rage into something constructive.
Tea Garden spoke up softly. "Look, Flywheel may've been out of it, but that last attempt to grab the entire wagon and stop it might have just kept us alive. Try to cut him at least some slack?"
Moonshine continued her spell in silence. Tea Garden was right, but that still didn't change the issue that Flywheel had endangered them all with his inattentiveness in the first place.
Forager, who had finally regained his senses, was trying to disentangle himself from the harness. "How's it look, Moon? How bad is he?" the pegasus called out. "Uh, Tea, a little help?"
Moonshine couldn't be sure of the true extent of Hammerhoof’s injuries, but it didn't look all that bad, all things considered. "He's out cold," she replied. "Looks like a head injury, maybe? He's breathing, in any case. I'm not sure I will be able to rouse him with my magic, though."
Healing magic was a difficult practice even for the most talented of Unicorns, and even the best of spells were only capable of accelerating natural healing. Despite an amazing variety of spells that had been developed by Unicorns over the millenia, it just didn't seem possible to magically fix an injury in the blink of an eye.
As she concentrated on Hammerhoof, the others continued to talk amongst themselves. Moonshine was content to just listen.
"The hay happened up there, anyway? Cloudfall really just abandoned us?" Tea Garden asked.
"Dunno what the hell got into him," Forager replied, clear agitation in his voice. "Wagon started to slip, he unbelted and took off like a bullet toward Canterlot. Probably lucky to be far from here at the moment, considering what he deserves.
Tea Garden gingerly put her hoof down again. "This wagon isn't going anywhere," she said. "The whole load is a bust. I don't know about all of you, but I think we should just pitch camp, rest up for the evening, and walk the rest of the way to Ponyville. We'll get a salvage team out to try and rescue what cargo we can tomorrow."
Forager nodded in agreement, still perched on top of the wagon. "Don't have much choice, now, do we?"
A stirring from Hammerhoof interrupted their conversation. "Hammerhoof!" Moonshine exclaimed, pulling him into an embrace.
"Hammer, you okay?" Forager asked.
The large Earth Pony shook his head, but otherwise paid no attention to the Pegasus' inquiry. His eyes seemed focused on the glowing horn in front of him for several seconds, before recognition passed over his face. Without saying anything, he tried to stand, but almost immediately laid back down. "Thanks, Shine. I feel... a bit unstable. I'm just gonna lay here for a moment."
Forager fluttered down from the wagon, wincing as his injured wing burned. "Cloud ditched us, dropped that side of the wagon. Not that we had any control at that point anyway, but you went right off the road and hit the ground pretty hard." After a moment, he added, "You sure you're alright?"
Hammerhoof groaned slightly as he slowly stood up. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll be fine. Shine has it handled."
Moonshine breathed out a sigh of relief. With Hammerhoof able to stand already, he should be okay. She hoped.
"Where the hell is it?" The sound of hooves slamming into wood erupted from the cargo bed. After a few moments, Flywheel emerged from the wagon. "We have a problem. The hidden compartment split open; the other cargo is gone. Celestia knows where it ended up in this mess."
Moonshine felt a chill down her spine. Their client would not be happy with a lost shipment, but their employer would be even more furious. The cargo hauling business was just a front - their real employer was the Canterlot Syndicate - and each wagon was used in a Equestria-wide network of illicit drug trade. But that could wait - the receiver of the normal cargo load was just a couple hours walk down the road and would be getting reports of the destroyed load shortly.
"Speaking of cargo," Moonshine said, walking over to the wagon. "What do we tell the Cakes? This load is supposed to be delivered to them, isn't it? Isn't Mrs. Cake going to be a bit ticked off, what with the shipment being both late and mostly destroyed? I mean, what is this stuff, anyway?" She poked her head into the wagon, taking in the cargo contents. "Flour? I mean, I get it, she's running a bakery, but what is she doing that needs an entire wagon-load of flour? Ugh, I'd just like to get this done and over with so I actually get home. More to the point, with this crap all over me, I really just want a proper bath."
"I think we all'd like that," Forager pointed his leg at Flywheel, who was absolutely covered in the water-flour sludge, as if to emphasize his point.
"I know, I know." Moonshine replied. "And you should let me take a look at that wing." She took a few steps toward Forager, but a sudden realization struck her and she stopped herself in the middle of her stride, turning on Flywheel. "Your inattentiveness just caused a wreck that lost a seventy-five-thousand bit drop?!"
Flywheel stepped back defensively, holding up a hoof. "Hold on now, nothing like this is ever one pony's fault. Yeah, I fucked up - more than you ever could know and more than I care to admit. But it wasn't because you guys were perfect. You just want a scapegoat so you can ignore your own part in this damned mess. Besides, I didn't see you burn out YOUR horn trying to stop everything." As if to emphasize his point, he tried to cast a spell, but his horn only sparked.
"You could have gotten someone hurt, or even killed!"
"Yeah, I might have," he continued. The sarcasm was so thick it could be cut with a knife, infuriating Moonshine even more. "And believe me, no one is as disappointed in me as I am. So you can keep going on about it, but I already know!" He turned and stomped away.
Moonshine glared at his back side as he stormed off into the trees. Nothing she could do now would fix the past, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Flywheel hadn't been giving it his best. Had he caused the accident on purpose? He tried to stop the wagon, didn't he? It bothered her.
"Look, I’m a bit hurt. Tea Garden too," Forager interrupted her thoughts. "And I’d like to be working on the ‘not dying' bit." He looked up at the darkened sky. "And not to disrupt your little argument, but I suspect we got maybe three hours before all the night critters come out. We can sit here all night blaming each other while we get eaten by wild animals, or we can set up a camp and get a perimeter secured."
Moonshine nodded morosely as she came over to look at Forager's wing. "You're right. The Shadefall has a nasty reputation at night," she agreed. "We don't have time to lose."
Moonshine examined Forager‘s wing, continuing to sound off about her frustrations with Flywheel. Forager had definitely sprained something, and it was badly scraped up - he wouldn't be flying for a day or two, but Moonshine was satisfied that it wasn't broken. Content with Forager's condition, she walked carefully toward the shattered remains of the wagon where Hammerhoof was fetlock-deep in a spread of broken supplies. Tea Garden followed with a limp and started working with Forager to secure a tarp over the wrecked wagon, attempting to shelter the remains of the cargo from the rain.
"It's not good," Hammerhoof said as Moonshine walked up next to him. "Most of our emergency supplies are missing or destroyed. I don’t think we’ll be able to safely camp here tonight. We’re gonna be walking the cargo into Ponyville."
"Well, we don't even have a third of the damn shipment intact," Tea Garden mumbled, fastening another line. "We can probably carry most of what’s left."
"I'm sick of this job," Moonshine groused quietly to Hammerhoof. "I can't keeping working with Flywheel. He's creepy and I don't trust him. I'm going to try and find another gig as soon as we get to Ponyville."
Hammerhoof nodded. "I don't trust him, either. This is the third accident we've been in since we’ve started working with him. I love you, darling, and if the bosses are amenable, I'll go wherever you go. Besides, I can't keep my parents worried with accidents like this." He smiled grimly as he gathered up what few supplies could be found and tucked them under the wagon, providing them some protection from the torrential downpour.
Moonshine sighed.
"Let's go, everypony," Forager called out. "You can sit here all night if you want, but we need to make it to Ponyville and secure lodging before the inns fill up. Stormy night like this is gonna leave them a bit crowded."
"Here you go, darlin'!" Sugarbeet said sweetly, setting two keys on the counter in front of her. "The room is up the stairs, second door on the left."
Scarlet lofted the keys with her telekinesis. "Thank you." She turned away and headed toward the stairs, with Salvage and Jupiter - who was still clad in Lunar Guard armor - following right behind her.
The appearance of a Lunar Guard in the little town was having the exact effect Scarlet had hoped: the din of the bar had dulled immediately upon her arrival, and several patrons had quickly excused themselves. According to what little information Justice Key was able (or perhaps, willing) to give her, there was a small safehouse here in Ponyville that many of the local smugglers would be drawn to for safety.
Short Circuit, one of the local syndicate leaders, while not exactly a good pony, was supposedly somewhat complicit with the Equestrian government in exchange for a blind eye to some minor criminal activities in Ponyville, and had agreed to help arrange a meeting. All Scarlet was supposed to do was meet him at his office, and then he would give her information on which ponies might be interested in the job. There was a small amount of risk involved, but as long as she left her 'Night Guard' at the tavern, she and Salvage alone would hopefully not seem like a threat.
As soon as they reached their room, Scarlet went straight to the desk at the back and began unpacking her things.
"Um... I'm not getting a separate room?" Jupiter wondered aloud as she slung her own pack on the bed and began digging through it.
"No," Scarlet replied. "That would be wasteful."
Jupiter's head perked up, seemingly confused and glancing between Scarlet and Salvage. "Uh..."
"There's no need for two rooms," Scarlet repeated.
"Okay. So... there's only two beds," Jupiter observed. "Who are you sharing with?"
Scarlet paused. "Who am I—?"
"I'll sleep on the floor," Salvage interjected.
Jupiter raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, returning to her bag.
"It's alright, Salvage," Scarlet replied. "Jupi and I will share."
Jupiter whirled around. "But-"
"No buts!" Scarlet barked, cutting her off. "Salvage will not be sleeping on the floor."
Jupiter looked between Salvage and Scarlet repeatedly with a look of utter bewilderment.
"Really, Scarlet, I'll be fine," Salvage insisted.
Scarlet's brow furrowed as she continued to pull things out of her bag. "We'll talk about it later, then." Why was Salvage being so obstinate about sleeping on the floor? It really wasn't a big deal for her to share a bed with her own daughter.
After a few minutes, they had all unpacked their things; there wasn't much, as it was only expected to be a one-night trip.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"You know the colt I told you about? Can I try and find him?" Jupiter pleaded. "I really want to surprise him."
Scarlet recalled the way Jupiter had droned on about the colt she had met on the sky chariot from Canterlot. Her little girl had a crush! She was finally growing up!
"He said he lives here in Ponyville..." Jupiter mumbled.
Scarlet looked up at the clock on the wall, which showed that it was currently just before 8 PM. Jupiter couldn't be allowed to run around so late, but...
"You can ask around downstairs," Scarlet agreed. "But you have to stay inside. If you learn anything about him and we have time in the morning, we'll go ahead and give him a visit." If everything went according to plan, they wouldn't have any time to spare in the morning at all. The smile on Jupiter's face was so warm and cute that Scarlet felt bad about lying to her daughter so brazenly. "Alright," Scarlet continued, trying not to let on that she was bluffing. "Salvage and I have some things here in town we have to do. Remember to stay inside."
"Yes, mom!" Jupiter seemed honest enough in her response. Hopefully she would listen this time.
Scarlet and Salvage headed back out of the tavern, stepping outside into the torrential downpour. She had forgotten to pack an umbrella, and all of the ordinary shops were closed at this hour, making the walk rather miserable, though Salvage didn't seem to mind it at all as he trotted beside her. According to the information she'd been given, Short Circuit's office was on the western edge of town, so it was a fair distance away still.
"Jupiter seemed legitimately confused about the room situation," Salvage observed as the walked. "Is something wrong?"
"That's my fault," Scarlet sighed. "I've always gotten separate rooms for trips like this."
"Like this? You do things like this often?"
Scarlet laughed and shook her head. "No, I mean trips with a stallion. I..." Scarlet searched for ways to sugarcoat what she was about to say, but couldn't come up with anything. "I'm a single mother, Salvage. I often arrange my dates to be longer trips so I can justify taking her with me. It helps serve as a reminder to stallions that they aren't just courting a mate, they're also courting a potential daughter."
"So... she thinks this is a date?"
"Oh, probably," Scarlet said, turning down another rain-soaked street. "I didn't tell her it was, but I can't exactly tell her what's really going on."
"Why not?" he asked. "When we leave town for a month, don't you think she's going to have a lot of questions?" Unspoken was the knowledge that it could be a dangerous mission that they might not return from.
Scarlet trotted along in silence, her soaked mane and tail sticking to her body. The chilly evening air was soaking her to the bone and she began to shiver.
"Hold on," Salvage said, stopping in his tracks. Scarlet turned around and raised an eyebrow, questioningly. Taking a small crystal from his bag, Salvage struck it with his hoof and held it out to her.
"An elemental crystal?" Scarlet asked, recognizing it immediately. "Why?"
"Just take it," he said, holding it out to her.
Scarlet grasped the crystal in her magic, and soon found it emanating a powerful warmth that slowly dried her out in spite of the downpour. It was actually too warm, and she had to levitate it a short distance away from herself to be comfortable with it. It wasn't an umbrella, but it was probably the next best thing. Salvage paced right next to her, also keeping a fair distance from the crystal on the other side.
"And what if we encourage her to believe we're dating?" Salvage wondered as they continued down the street.
Her eyes went wide and she slowed her trot ever so slightly. Her gaze travelled up and down his backside as they continued, briefly pausing on the prosthetic leg that she still really wanted to get a better look at.
Scarlet pondered the stallion's figure as his muscular body continued marching forward at a normal pace. He seemed nice enough and he certainly wasn't bad looking, but crystal ponies weren't really her type. She loved to snuggle with her lovers and had never found the crystal ponies' rock hard bodies to have much snuggle appeal. "I've already lied to her enough," Scarlet replied, dismissing those thoughts. "What good would it do to pretend we're a couple?"
"Well, for starters, you can explain our upcoming journey as a longer trip that we want to take alone."
"Mmm." Scarlet continued wordlessly, pondering the implications. It made sense, in a way. And they didn't actually have to date, only pretend to.
Soon they arrived at an old building made of stone and clay. The sign out front said "Short Circuit's Gadget Repair", with two magical circuits on the sign. One of circuits was broken.
"We'll have to put a pin in that discussion," Scarlet replied, looking up at the door that stood ajar - an odd choice, given the weather. "Business before pleasure."
Jupiter posed several different ways in front of the mirror, trying to find the most threatening look she could muster in her Lunar Guard outfit. It wasn't working very well; no matter what she tried, she was just too small to be imposing. She looked like the real deal - likely because it was a real Lunar Guard-enchanted armor, with the full transformation effect - but her small frame and teenage proportions were not giving the 'gruff military persona' she was hoping for.
She turned away from the mirror with a sigh. Fletcher would probably see right through her rather quickly. Then again, when she'd entered the bar earlier, no one questioned her status or authority, so maybe he wouldn't?
The bar.
Jupiter smiled to herself. She couldn't go outside, but her mom did say she could ask around downstairs, and the bar would have a lot of ponies in it, right? Maybe someone there knew where she could find Fletcher.
She nearly galloped her way out of the room and down the flight of stairs to the bar below. A dull murmur of voices came from a dozen or so ponies in small groups sitting at the tables, while several stools at the bar itself were vacant. She looked over at the stallion wiping down the counter with a bored expression. Jupiter was too young to drink, but you couldn't be in the Lunar Guard if you were still a minor, so, hedging her bets on her appearance, Jupiter approached the bar as confidently as she could and took a seat on one of the barstools.
Almost immediately, the bartender slid over to her. "Howdy, miss," he said in a deep voice. "Welcome to Sugarbeet's Tavern. Can I get you a drink? Or perhaps you're looking for a nice meal?"
"Actually," Jupiter said, lowering her voice to try and make herself sound a bit more mature. "I'm looking for some information."
"Information, huh? Sorry, we're fresh out." The stallion laughed loudly as Jupiter frowned. "Look here, Lunatic-" Jupiter frowned at the derogatory name for Lunar Guards - ironically, one usually heard from Solar Guards. "Nopony around here is just gonna give information to your kind without some sort of... incentive." His eyes roamed up and down her figure. Jupiter knew that look all too well, and had to bite back an angry retort.
She pressed on with her questions anyway. "All I need is to know where I can find a kid named Fletcher. He's a colt living here in Ponyville."
"Sorry, can't help ya," he said with a shrug. "I serve adults here. Don't know anything about any colts." He frowned. "Now, you gonna order anything or not?"
Jupiter hesitated. The bartender was proving far less useful than she'd hoped.
Suddenly another stallion hopped over the stool next to her and slammed some bits on the table. "She'll have an Autumn Lily. And one for me, too, if you will."
"Um, thank you. I guess," Jupiter said, turning to the stranger and forgetting to mask her voice. "But I wasn't looking for a drink."
The stallion smiled. "Don't worry about it. I can tell this isn't your strong suit, and you're clearly new at this."
Jupiter's mouth hung open in mild shock. Was she really so transparent?
After a moment, the bartender placed two drinks in front of the newcomer, and he immediately passed one to Jupiter. Not wanting to be rude, Jupiter cautiously sipped at the drink. It had a nice, flowery flavor, but left a bit of a burn as she swallowed it down. Her expression must have tipped off the stallion, because he immediately placed a hoof on the back of her neck and gently rubbed. Jupiter recoiled at his touch, glaring harshly at the stallion, who withdrew his hoof.
"Sorry, sorry," he said, raising his hooves defensively. "Just thought you might need a bit of help getting that down." His eyes darted to her drink, and then back to her.
"I'm fine, thanks," Jupiter said defiantly. She immediately grabbed the mug and took a much larger drink before slamming it back down on the bar. She tried to put on a stern face and ignore the burning sensation as it went down, but she could tell her eyes were watering a little bit. Hopefully he didn't notice.
The stallion simply nodded. "Good. Good." He turned for a moment, and raised a hoof, waving at another pony elsewhere in the bar before turning back to Jupiter. "So, I heard you were looking for uh... information. And since you're new here, let me tell you, information isn't free. I might know about this 'Fletcher' guy you're asking about."
The wagon crew stood in front of the large glass panes of Shipping Label's Shipping Services. Shipping Label himself had been fixing up a wagon just outside the shop, but now he was waving his screwdriver about, justifiably irate about the loss of the goods he'd been expecting.
"Not only have you lost an entire shipment of flour, you destroyed my wagon!" Shipping Label yelled at Hammerhoof.
Moonshine paid them no mind, instead glaring at Flywheel with seething anger. Flywheel seemed to be looking in her general direction, but his glassy-eyed stare seemed to pierce straight through her - as if his focus was on something completely beyond her.
Hammerhoof stepped toward Shipping Label. "At least we tried!" he shouted angrily. "We lugged as much here on foot as we could."
Flywheel began giggling, seemingly at nothing.
"What’s so damn funny?" Tea Garden hissed. "You need some sense knocked into you, old stallion?"
That snapped Flywheel back to attention. "Old stallion? I’m only forty." He frowned, then pulled out his ID and stared at it. "Forty-ish."
Forager shook his head. "Can’t even figure out your own age? Is math really so hard?"
"It’s not even a real ID," Tea Garden pointed out.
"So where's that leave me?" Shipping Label demanded. "I owe Mrs. Cake a lot of flour, and I have..." He stopped and counted the bags. "8 bags. Out of 72."
"That's 1 in 9," Flywheel called over. "Could have been more if Moonie here did her job."
"Oh, I'm done, " spat Moonshine. "DONE! You nearly got us all killed, and now you have the gall to blame me?"
"Go ahead and leave. See if I care," Flywheel responded venomously. "I don't want a filly in the same crew with me if she can't keep her hind legs shut anyway. You and Forager? All those times you thought no one was paying attention? That no one was awake? I've seen what the two of you do. Real sexy, you know? Even with Hammerhoof right there! You are such a filthy whor--"
Moonshine rising anger was interrupted as Hammerhoof's hind leg crashed into Flywheel's muzzle right in front of her. Blood began gushing out from his lower lip as Moonshine stumbled backwards to get out of the way. She fell, planting her tail into a shallow puddle and soaking her nethers. She grimaced at the cold water. Shipping Label, startled at the sudden violence, jumped backwards, slipping in the muddy street and falling to the ground and knocking over a bucket of screws and nails he'd been using on the wagon. The screwdriver skittered away as he lost his magical focus on it.
"Mind your manners in public, geezer!" Hammerhoof snorted, closing inches from Flywheel's face. "What the three of us do in private isn’t your concern. And some things just aren't polite conversation."
Flywheel's horn flashed. In an instant, Hammerhoof was stumbling backwards, blinded temporarily by the sudden light, followed by Flywheel's own hoof smashing into Hammerhoof's jaw. The unicorn's jab was nothing compared to the massive earth pony's kick, but before Hammerhoof could recover, Flywheel snatched up the screwdriver and flung it at Hammerhoof's head as hard as his magic would allow. The tool sailed straight and true, lodging itself firmly into Hammerhoof's neck.
Moonshine stared, stunned, as her fiance began grabbing at the makeshift blade, but in his panic, his hooves repeatedly struck the handle, driving the tool deeper into the wound. After a brief moment, he staggered and dropped to the ground. She stared in horror as crimson life seeped around the wound and began to mix with the shallow puddles in the road. And the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.
Flywheel walked around to Hammerhoof's head, bringing his face down to the ground, staring into Hammerhoof's glazed eyes. He whispered something inaudible. Even though Moonshine couldn't hear what was said, Hammerhoof began thrashing about again, and seemed to be trying to gurgle out a response. The alien sound sent shivers down Moonshine's spine.
Then, Flywheel stood up and yanked the handle violently away from Hammerhoof’s neck. As soon as the tip was clear, Hammerhoof coughed a few times, blood spraying from his punctured throat and coating the wet pavement.
He is struggling to breathe.
Moonshine immediately jumped to his side, calling out to him. "Don't move. Don't move! You're going to make it worse." He closed his eyes. "No, no, Hammer, don't close your eyes, don't do that to me." Moonshine put all of her effort into casting another healing spell, but she was sure this one wouldn't be enough.
Around them, Forager stood stiffly, staring slack-jawed at the spectacle unfolding in front of his eyes. Tea Garden had already bolted from the scene, not wanting to get mixed up with the authorities again. Every other pony was slowly backing away from the scene.
"See? You are no Goddess!" Flywheel taunted.
Moonshine closed her eyes. Come on, Hammer, I can't lose you again. Don't let that asshole win. She began willing her very soul into her magic, but her worry overwhelmed her. Her horn sparked as she lost her focus. The spell failed.
Flywheel cackled maniacally. "See? Your magic is too weak. You cannot save him!" he announced. The glee in his voice was thick with derisiveness.
Hammerhoof is lost. Moonshine resigned herself to the truth. Flywheel killed him.
Moonshine's horn glowed as she grasped the screwdriver with her magic.
Flywheel killed him.
Now in her control, the screwdriver took a life of its own. Moonshine waved the screwdriver around in Flywheel's face as the elder stallion stood, laughing senselessly.
Flywheel killed him.
She pointed it menacingly at him as she laid her churning emotions out. "You killed him!" she screamed.
The crazed laughter stopped and Flywheel levelled a steely glare at Moonshine. "And I care, why? He was ruining my life."
"Ruined your life?" Moonshine screamed. "You've ruined everything with your incompetence!" She thrust the screwdriver forward in a feint, forcing him to fall backwards in a desperate bid to dodge. "And you nearly killed ALL of us."
Flywheel sat there, eyes crossed, staring at the screwdriver in front of his snout. "Learn your place," he growled. "No false goddess shall stand before me. You are nothing but a temptress."
Moonshine stopped and took a deep breath. Her anger was causing her control over the screwdriver to destabilize, and the tool was beginning to visibly shake. She held it there for a few seconds, staring at the sharp tip, trying to steady it as she took several steps back.
"And if I am a goddess, then you are nothing but a devil," she hissed. "I hope you enjoy your stay in Tartarus!"
With one final blast of magical energy, Moonshine hurled the screwdriver with all of her power at Flywheel, who didn't even flinch as it passed right by his ear. Instead, the window of the building behind him shattered. His face twisted into a wide grin as he stood back up, lifting a myriad of scattered pieces of glass, screws, and nails from the ground with his magic.
The airborne shards floating in a whirlwind, spinning around Moonshine at his direction. Her horn was burnt out from the sheer power she'd put into that throw, and she had nothing to protect herself with. She crouched down and put her hooves over her head, bracing for a hail of sharp, stabbing pains.
Flywheel erupted into uproarious laughter, bringing the storm of shrapnel to a halt. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.
"I wonder what happens when a goddess dies."
