Monster Hunter: Equestria

Chapters

Chapter 1: Living the Dream
Chapter 2: Awaken
Chapter 3: The Princess Wants YOU
Chapter 4: Prey Always
Chapter 5: (dis)Orientation
Chapter 6: Nightmare Class
Chapter 7: Parks and Wrecks
Chapter 8: Early Risers

Chapter 1: Living the Dream

Recently, I got to live the Equestrian Dream: I got to throw my crazy ex-husband off a cliff.

No, I don't make a habit of killing ponies. Accidents happen around me sometimes. Maybe a lot of sometimes. Really unfortunate accidents, but nopony has died yet. My ex doesn’t count; he wasn't even a pony anymore. My ex-husband had become a monster.

No, I’m serious. He was way faster than he had any right to be, and his teeth were sharp like— You know what? Let’s back this up a bit. It'd be easier to just start from the beginning.

|/-Canterlot-|/

I hadn't been looking forward to that day, but I was looking forward to getting it over with. He'd written me two weeks ago saying that he wanted to meet with me to discuss “our little Dinky's” future and to “make things right.” While I wasn't interested in getting back together with him, and I definitely had no intention of letting that stallion anywhere near my foal anytime soon, I figured I could maybe convince him to lend some more financial support to care for his offspring. Raising a unicorn isn't cheap, especially for a pegasus like me, so I wasn't too proud to take what I could get. Besides, the restraining order had worn off around that time, thanks to a sworn affidavit from his psychologist that my ex no longer harbored any extreme ill will towards me and no longer posed a threat to either me or my daughter.

Somepony really should check that mare for bite marks, by the way.

Anyhow, we'd decided to meet at his office at the edge of Canterlot after the graveyard shift started. It was when he was supposed to be working, but he assured me that his workers weren't hard to control. As I walked past several jittery-yet-glassy-eyed ponies doing various office tasks on the way to his corner office, I found it hard to disagree. I walked past the huge bookshelf full of books with fancy titles and into his office proper, ready to discuss my daughter's future.

“Greetings, Ms. Hooves. You're looking well.”

As I looked at him in front of a window with a commanding view of the Mane River Falls from above, I couldn't quite say the same. It wasn't that he looked sick or weak. In fact, he looked far more toned than the last time I'd seen him. He'd lost a lot of weight, too. He hadn't exactly been a tub of shortening when I knew him, but now he'd look emaciated if it weren't for all the lean muscle. His horn was as sharp as ever, as well.

And then there was his coat. What had once been a rich ruby red was now a dull, ashen pink. I wasn't sure at the time if it looked like he'd gotten too much sun, or not enough.

What really looked unhealthy, though, what looked wrong about him, were his eyes. They looked hungry. Not hungry like a pony who's jealously eying a tasty salad being brought to the restaurant table next to them. More hungry like a cat locked in a kennel without food by a forgetful shop owner, eying the plump canary in the next cage over. These weren't the eyes of the insecure bully I'd married; these were the eyes of a predator.

I gulped, ruffling my wings a little.

“Hello, Railroad Spike,” I replied. “How's knife? Er, life.”

“Ah, I did always find your little slips of the tongue endearing.” My face reddened. “As for life, life flows on. It seems to flow a lot more smoothly, now that I've learned to let go of a few things. How have things been for our little Dinky? I haven't gotten to hear much about her since she was a yearling.”

“My little Dinky is doing well. Her magic is starting to come in, which is great, but I've been all ovah the place looking for ways to help her out. The only tragic I know is moving clouds or flying around,” and maybe a little bit about making lightning, “but I don't see how any of that will be much use.”

“It sounds like you're having some trouble.”

“Oh, it's nothing I can't handle, even on a mailmare's budget,” I say as I roll one of my eyes, “but I'll accept help if you're offering.”

“Tell me… do you have a stallion in your life right now?”

I didn't.

“I don't see what that has ta do with this meeting,” I respond, flatly. “I'm pretty sure we're here to talk about how you can help me raise Dinky, preferably from a great distance.”

“Derpy, my old-time wall-eyed flower, that's why I called you here: to help you. You look scared. You look like you've had a lot to be scared of recently. Tell me,” he said, eyes fixed on (one of) mine as he began to step around his desk towards me, “how would you like to never be afraid again?”

“I... I don't follow. Railroad, you're starting ta shake me nervous.”

“If you let me back into her life,” he said, smoothly closing the distance between us, “Into your life… you won't fear anything ever again.”

He finally broke eye contact to whisper into my ear.

“You'll be too busy causing it.”

And then he wrapped his hooves around me and pressed his lips hungrily to my neck.

'No. This is not ok! Nopenopenopenopenope!'

I slammed my head into his and slipped out of his grip.

“What in the hay do ya think you're doin'?!” I shout as I back away from him, both of my eyes finally agreeing to focus on him despite some sudden dizziness. “I appreciate attracting a stallion's detention as much as the next mare, but I've already made it plenty clear the only attention I want from you is an alipony check. If ya think that just because I agreed to meet with ya and try to be civil—”

And then his muzzle turned back up and I noticed the blood dripping from his fangs.

'What.'

*Drip*

I looked down at the source of the noise to see a little red puddle. My neck felt a little warm.

'Blood. Fangs. Neck.

'My blood. His Fangs. From my neck.

'He's licking my blood from his fangs.

'This is not a good thing.'

“Mmm. Blueberry,” he said as he licked my blood from his fangs and started circling me like some kind of cat. “Still as much of a muffin fiend as ever, I see.”

I met his eyes again, those hungry, predator's eyes, and I couldn't look away. Suddenly, I was too afraid to even think of doing that.

“Now that I've really got your attention, dear, why don't you just sit down.”

And I sat down and started to tremble.

“There we go! When a stallion talks, a mare should listen. Just like that! He shouldn't have to resort to violence to get his way. I think this could be the basis for a new relationship. I know you don't like the sound of 'husband and wife,' but how does 'master and slave' sound?”

I shuddered a bit harder.

“Then again, maybe it would be better to properly turn you. Then we could be a family again. After all, Dinky would be so much happier if she had a mother, too, and a mind-numbed thrall wouldn't...”

I stopped listening and closed my eyes, but he didn't seem to notice, and I was finally able to have a thought.

'Dinky. I have to get home to her.'

I opened my eyes again, keeping one on his muzzle and letting the other wander around the room a little. At some point, he'd gotten between me and the doorway, which seemed bad.

He was also still talking, which was useful. Railroad Spike always did like to hear himself talk.

I was still terrified out of most of my wits, but now I had a focus so I could think a little. The adrenaline was flowing, and I took advantage of his self-absorption to tense up.

I sprang forward and flapped my wings, taking a flying leap over Railroad Spike's head and out through the doorway, blessing the name of the pony whose idea it was to put high ceilings in this place.

“Oof!”

Or at least that's what would have happened if I hadn't misjudged my jump and clipped his head with a rear hoof. Instead, I tripped on his face and tumbled, slamming into the side of the bookshelf by the doorway on my way out. I came to a rolling stop in the hallway outside, and then I heard a loud crash as the oversized bookshelf toppled on its side to block the doorway.

For once, it seemed, being clumsy had payed off! Heehee.

“That tears it,” I heard him shout from his office. “GET HER, YOU USELESS THRALLS!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!” screamed the thralls.

And that's when the fight started.

Remember those ponies who looked like they'd had too much coffee and not enough sunlight? I mean the half-vacant ones I saw on my way to Railroad Spike's office, not your average Seaddleite. Well, they'd all stopped working on office tasks. As I was picking myself up from my tumble, they started lurching out of their cubicles towards me with jittery, screaming terror in their glassy eyes.

I bolted past the cubicles and down the hall as they jolted forward. I came around the corner and into the entry hall. The entry hall had more thralls.

“Oh, ponyfeathers.”

The thralls were ready and leaped into action as soon as they saw me. I wasn't ready for them, though, and so I found myself at the bottom of my own personal pile of unicorns.

'Everypony here but me is a unicorn. Why didn't any of them use magic to catch me?'

'Because, believe it or not, they're even more terrified than you are. If they're scared out of their minds, there isn't much mind left to cast a spell, is there?'

Beneath the pile of now-idle unicorns, I had an idea. These so-called thralls didn’t seem to contain high amounts of initiative, but they were pretty intent on a goal once they had one.

“Well isn't this just typical of you Celestia-forsaken horse-apples?” I shouted as I began flailing at the ponies piled on top of me. “Lying down on the job instead of doing what we pay you cider-sodden muffin bins to do. You pinheads are all a buncha moon-banished disgraces!”

I'd, uh, racked up a bit of a vocabulary over years of accidents following me around like a stray dog trailing a snack cart.

“Do ya need a lantern and a shoo-be-doo map to find your cutie marks? Stick around and I'll help ya find em! With flying kicks to your...”

Some things had been shouted at me…

“…cross-eyed nincompoops who can't even tell a sunscorched banana from a face-bucking…”

…And some I'd come up with myself when the ones I'd heard just weren't enough.

“…pear-addled sacks of peas ya call your skulls. When I tell your boss how bad you sons of mules pinfeathered this up to Tartarus...”

Needless to say, I leave this part out whenever I tell this story to Dinky.

“…with a cartwheeling hippopotamus!”

'Yes, that's right. Use their fear.'

I wasn't proud of it, but it worked well enough. By the time I'd finished flailing about and, heh, blessing them out in my best impression of an irate manager, the jittery ponies that had piled onto me leaped off and bolted for their workstations. Conveniently, this also had the effect of clearing my path to the building's exit. Just in time, too. I could hear the sound of a splintering bookshelf, which most likely meant I'd be meeting up with Railroad Spike again very soon if I were to stick around.

'You know, running away and never looking back is sounding like a good idea right now. I don't like our chances against a vampire.'

I ran out that exit, spread my wings, and leaped into the safety of the open air.

With the clear sky above me, I really wanted to just fly away and leave my troubles behind. That's what a sensible pony would have done. I like to think of myself as a sensible pony most of the time.

But being a sensible pony wouldn't have helped Dinky.

That thing that used to be my husband knew where I lived. If I didn't take care of this that night, he wouldn't have stopped until he'd killed me and converted Dinky. And then there were all the other ponies he'd have hurt along the way that would have been on my conscience.

I was tired of living in fear.

So instead of flying back to Ponyville as fast as my wings would take me, I flew back to the building and hovered above the doorway. I didn't have to wait long.

About half a minute later, I heard him as he was approaching the door.

“Where is she?!” I heard Railroad Spike bellow. “You had one job. You thralls really are useless!”

The door opened and I heard piteous wails as he stepped outside, saying “Well, if you want something done right—”

As soon as I could see him, I dove at him forehooves-first with all the force I could muster. As General Blown Apart used to say, “The best defense is a good offense.”

Of course, Blown Apart's advice applied better when your target wasn't absurdly fast and alert. Over the course of a blink, he'd left the doorway behind by at least ten feet and was smirking up at me.

I crashed into the ground at the highest speed I could manage and rolled until I slammed into the building’s white stone wall with a bone-rattling thud.

“Ah. Hello, my dear. How nice of you to drop in. You're going to have to move faster than that, though, if you want to get the drop on—”

And then a chunk of masonry fell on his head.

Slowly and groaningly, I pushed myself up off the ground, got my footing, and took a quick self-inventory. The coat on my neck was sticky with fresh blood. Either my earlier wound had reopened in the crash, or it had never stopped flowing in the first place. I was still feeling dizzy, maybe a little dizzier than earlier, and I was pretty anxious as well. My legs were aching from the impact, too, but at least nothing seemed broken.

The piece of beautiful, white masonry that had fallen on Railroad Spike interrupted my inventory by shakily swinging past my face, wrapped in said unicorn's aura, before clinking to the ground.

“Ugh! How do you live like this?” he said, and I looked and saw that his eyes were pointing in different directions. It really was too much to hope that the falling stone had knocked him out, I guess. That hit had looked like a bleeder, too, but now his head was clean. Still, I took what I could get.

I turned around and clumsily bucked him square in the side of his barrel. It wasn't strong enough to crack bones or anything, but it was enough to make him fly a few feet further away from me and the building.

He stood back up, his back to the mountain city's edge, and cracked his neck like he'd had a long nap instead of a buck to the barrel. It just wasn't fair. Then he said, “Derpy, my sweet, I'm disappointed! Here I am, trying to do what's best for our little Dinky, and you've done nothing but attack me for it. If you're this keen on rough-horsing around like this near Dinky, I might just have to remove you from her life entirely. Something about being a bad influence on children...”

My eyes drifted apart again as I lost even more of my cool.

“A bad influence?!”

I snorted in rage and disgust, coiled up, and then I sprang into a headlong charge, hoping to bowl him over and maybe knock him over the edge of the mountainside.

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAA— eeurk.”

When I'd screw something up and do something really bone-headed as a little filly, my dad would often tell me what I'd done was about as smart as headbutting a unicorn. I could practically hear his hoof impacting his skull.

At this point, Railroad Spike had cleverly positioned himself so I'd impale my left shoulder on his horn.

Most unicorns kept their horns dull, rounded, and generally undangerous on the end, but not Railroad Spike. It was something I kinda liked about how he looked, way back when. I'd like to take the time now to say, though, that getting gored by it made me wish he'd preferred one of the nubbier styles.

He yanked his head back, drawing his horn out of the wound, and then went on to lap at the blood that oozed out before I staggered backward in shock and let out a whimper.

He stalked up to me like an oversized cat playing with its food, then cupped his hoof to my chin and said “Look at me.”

I did as I was told and looked back up from the ground. I saw Railroad Spike, a monster in the general shape of a unicorn I used to love. His bearing had a sort of catlike grace to it. His ashen pink coat was now complemented by deep red stains around his mouth and horn. Behind him by a few feet was the cliff's edge and a commanding view of the world below. I would have gladly kept staring at that, but one eye and then the other found their way to his predator's eyes and stuck there, transfixed. I couldn't look away from that terrible sight. I couldn't really even think through the terror.

His eyes had uncrossed by this point, in case you were wondering.

“That's better,” he said with a sigh. “I had kinda wanted to keep you around in some fashion, for old times' sake, but I think it's safe to say that you're not going to cooperate for any reasonable amount of time. It's also clear that you wouldn't choose to accept my gift.”

'You very well could, you know. Being a vampire may “suck,” as it were, but it's hardly the worst fate you could ask for.'

“So it looks like I'm just going to have to drink you now,” he said, pulling me into a tight embrace as he brought his mouth back to my neck. “I can only hope that our little Dinky didn't inherit your ungrateful attitude when I offer a new life to her.”

My mind snapped out of the terror-ridden fog it was stuck in as he reminded me who I was fighting for.

“Ya won't get the chance to find out, you son of a horse.”

In a fit of righteous fury, I surged forward into his embrace and wrapped my hooves around him in turn, knocking us both off the face of the Canterhorn.

As we plummeted together, I buffeted Railroad Spike with wing and noggin as I shared some choice words with him.

“Nopony. But nopony. Threatens. My. DAUGHTER!”

With one last bash of my forehead to his fanged snout to properly punctuate my sentence, I released him from my grip and pushed off into flight. My wings strained as they caught the wind, pulling me out of my death dive and away from Railroad Spike's rapidly receding form. By the time I circled back around to see where he'd fallen, all that was left of him was a scattered pile of bones in a puddle of black ooze.

“Well, that's the end of that bat relationship. Finally.”

I wasn't ready to calm down yet, though. I had to be sure my filly was safe. I had to get home and see Dinky.

The adrenaline kept me in the air long enough to close in on my house, the Ponyville post office. It wasn't enough to help me make an accurate landing, though, or to let me notice that Dinky's bedroom window had been left closed that night.

*KRISH*

“Eugh… Ow...” I groaned as the last dregs of adrenaline left me. At least I'd made it into Dinky's room.

“Mom? Is that you?” I heard her groggy voice ask. “Do I need to grab the first-aid kit again?”

“That might be mice, Muffin,” I said, weakly. I was feeling pretty dizzy and lightheaded about that time, and I couldn't get my eyes to focus on anything, but at least she sounded all right.

“Ok, just let me turn on the light...”

The magilight flicked on, bathing the room in a happy, yellow glow.

A couple seconds later, she managed to stammer out “Mom! You're… You're bleeding. A lot.”

At the time, I was a lot less concerned about my blood loss than I was about maybe having scarred Dinky for life by showing up a blood-soaked mess. Well, that and wishing my stomach and head would stop hurting so feathering much.

As black was closing in around my field of vision, all I could think to say was “Don't worry about me, Dinky. We're safe now, and Mommy is going to be all right.”

“Auntie Carrot! Doc! Rose! Somepony help! Mommy!”

And then I finally relaxed, and darkness filled my view.

Author's Note

I made a promise back in June to write this fic, and now I have something to show for it. When I say I'm going to do something, let it be known that I will get to it!— eventually, at any rate. I hope you all enjoy it.

This story represents a few firsts for me. For instance, this chapter contained the first fight scene I've written in my adult life. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter in the comments below. As an aspiring amateur author, I thrive on feedback of most kinds. You can tell me what you liked, what didn't work for you, or just about anything to be honest.

Chapter 2: Awaken

|/-???-|/

I found myself lying in the middle of a sea of clouds. All of my wounds—the bites, the horn-gouge, the lacerations from crashing through a glass window, and even all the little bumps and bruises—they were just gone.

“Did I die?” I wondered aloud.

“Not quite, but not for lack of trying,” a voice I didn't quite recognize said.

I turned to face it, only to see a dark gray unicorn with a jet black mane walking on the cloudscape towards me. Not really what I was expecting.

“Seriously,” he continued, “flying all the way back home after losing that much blood? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Um… no?” I replied, owlishly blinking one eye at a time. “Well if I'm not dead, then who are ya, and where are we?

“Ah, but where are my manners. This place,” he said with an expansive gesture at the cloudscape around us, “is within your mind. Who I am exactly is not so important, but if you need something to call me, 'Shadow' works fine.”

“In my own mind, huh?”

I imagined a flock of muffins flying across the sky.

We saw a flock of muffins fly across the sky.

“Well. It's nice to meet you, Shadow. My name—”

“Is Derpy Hooves. You're the local mailmare for the town of Ponyville. You have a lovely and absurdly competent daughter named Dinky, whose well-being and happiness you prize far above your own. You also have an obsession with muffins and similar baked goods that borders on the unhealthy. Is there anything else you wanted me tell you about yourself?”

I let my mouth hang open for a moment before it clacked shut, and I shook my head.

“Good. As you see, Ms. Hooves, I know a great deal about you.”

Some of the surrounding clouds took on a grayer cast as I let my unsettlement settle in. “How?” I asked.

“I live here now, it seems. Lovely neighborhood so far, even if it is a bit full of clouds for my liking.”

Not really sure how to respond to that, I decided to drop that line of questioning for the moment.

I continued to lie there in awkward silence for a moment, one eye staring at Shadow and the other wandering about the clouds.

“So, ya said something about me almost frying. Can we talk about that?”

I guess I was kinda desperate to break the silence. Silences never really sat well with me, especially awkward ones.

“I don't see why not,” he replied. "It will pass the time until you regain consciousness, at least. What would you like to know?"

“Well… How close did I come ta taking a trip to the crematorium? I feel fine now, and I wasn't really together when I was awake, so it's kinda bugging me not knowing how hurt I am.”

“By the time you lost consciousness, you had lost over half a gallon of blood. It took nearly everything I had, short of enacting some permanent transformation that I could not do without your full and knowing consent, just to keep you alive long enough to get to the hospital. I will not be able to do that again for a while, so try not to die in the near future,” he said with a flick of his tail.

“That sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go to, and you don't seem all that superly fond of me,” I said, eyes downcast. “Why'd you go out of your way to save my life?”

“Why save you? Perhaps you missed the part where I live inside your head. If you die, I die with you.

“And beyond that, I thought your dying would be a waste of potential. You're an unusual pony, Ms. Hooves. You're strong enough of will to have power over your own fear, in the right circumstances at least. It also helps that you seem to be Lady Luck's favorite plaything. The sheer amount and variety of chaos that strikes those around you is simply fascinating.”

Turned out it was possible to blush even inside one's own mind. I didn't much like talking about how accidents tended to happen near me, as I always found it really embarrassing. The accidents got worse when I was scared or upset, too, so talking about them was really unhelpful.

Taking my halfhearted attempt to sink into the cloud-cover as permission to continue talking, he did just that.

“Between your bizarre luck and your facility with fear, I may just make a decent predator of you yet.”

Most of my gaze snapped back up to him.

“Um, what!?”

He kept talking like he hadn't heard. Hay, he wasn't even looking at me anymore.

“Now I know that the word 'vampire' leaves a foul taste in your mouth, but that would hardly be our only option. Now no offense, but you don't really strike me as lich material. Not enough experience with active magic, you see. Hippolycie might be more your speed. With enough willpower, you might even retain some of your intelligence when you change under the full moon. I've already had a taste of your fury, so I think it may be a good fit for you. After all, what is more ferocious than a mother wolf defending her cub?”

I couldn't really see it myself, but I think it's safe to say the color was steadily draining from my face as he spoke.

“No,” I replied, my voice weak. “I don't dink that will be necessary.”

“Why not?” he responded coolly. “It would help you protect yourself and your daughter, after all. Isn't that what you want?”

“No,” I said, a little stronger this time as I stand up to face Shadow properly. “I'm not going to trade away my equinity or that of my daughter for some extra security. Besides, didn't I just kill a vampire? Some safety that is, getting pancaked by the local mailmare.”

The two of us shared a derisive snort.

“Ugh. Railroad Spike was a tool, and you and I both know it. It is a pity you're so dead set against this offer. You seem to make a rather poor prey animal. I thought you would appreciate a chance to move up in the world.”

I walked up to Shadow, placed my face close to his, and said, “I don't think it's much of an upwardly move if Dinky or I have to murder ponies just to survive. I also like my brain right where it is, thank you very much!”

We stood for a moment, staring into each other's eyes in silence. I was breathing heavily in what I thought was a threatening manner, while he seemed to neglect to breathe at all, like he'd forgotten that that was a thing ponies were supposed to do. Then one of my eyes slipped away and he spoke again.

“You would make a lovely wolf, you know, with your gray coat and golden eyes. Oh well, I'll keep the metaphorical door open. After all I am a patient stallion, and you continue to amuse me,” he said with a smirk. “Just remember, Ms. Hooves: If it weren't for me, you would not have survived your first encounter with a creature of the night. Whether you like it or not, you owe me your life.

“And I'm not about to go away...”

And that's when I woke up.

|/-Ponyville General Hospital-|/

My eyes were so full of sand as I slowly cracked them open, I could have filled an hourglass. My mouth was dry, but my lips were not. As I used my pastern to rub the sand dunes out of my eyes, I noticed a few other things. First, there were a couple of tubes in my foreleg. IVs. Second, I was lying in one of those hospital cots, wearing one of those hospital gowns. I was pretty sure I was in one of those hospitals, probably Ponyville General. It's a nice-enough place, and the nurses seem to like me there. Third, I could have really used a drink of water right about then.

“Water?” I rasped.

“Ah, you're awake,” Bon Bon said as she stood up from the cushion she'd been lying on to pour some water from a pitcher. She grabbed the tray with the cup on it and set it up so I could use it to eat off of.

“I figured you'd be thirsty when you woke up. Also, I know how hospital food is, so I brought you some of the good stuff from home. I really hope you like it,” she said anxiously, one hoof on her saddlebag.

Next to the glass of water on the tray was a plateful of garlic bread, and it smelled downright celestial. Once I'd sipped enough of my water to wet my mouth, I tore into the extra garlicky garlic bread like some kind of Bitalian piranha.

“Thanks, Bon Bon,” I said after I finished. “That was delicious! I sure was hungry after… well, after everything.”

I looked back up to her, and she looked a lot more relaxed. She'd set her hoof back down on the floor, too.

“You're welcome, Derpy. I'm just glad you liked it. It's good to see you're still you.”

A bit of an… oddish thing to say, but it wasn't exactly setting off any alarms.

Bon Bon pulled her cushion up to the side of my cot and sat on it.

“How's Dinky? I hope I didn't scare her too badly by showing up in the middle of the night and collapsing in a muddle o' blood,” I said, fidgeting my forehooves.

“Dinky is doing well, all things considered. She's staying with Carrot Top until you get back home. She was scared at first, but she got better when she heard you had stabilized. She's surprisingly mature for a filly her age.”

“She is that,” I said with a wistful sigh. “Sometimes I worry that she's had ta grow up too fast. She doesn't even have her cutie mark yet.”

A minute of near silence passed between us as I listened to the oscilloscope beep.

“So,” she queried, “how was fighting a vampire with your bare hooves?”

If I had been drinking from my glass at the time, I would have spewed it across the room.

“How'd ya know it was a vampire?”

“Well, there was the fanged skeleton covered in black ooze at the foot of the Canterhorn, for starters. The wounds on your neck were pretty distinctive, as well. And then there's the fact that you just confirmed it yourself. Besides, it's my job to know about these sorts of things.”

'And here I thought ponies would assume I'd had an argument with a box of nails. But what do monster attacks have to do with running a candy shop?' I wondered.

“You still haven't answered my question. How did it feel to fight a vampire?”

“Scarifying. I was just so afraid the whole time, it was hard to think.”

I paused for a bit to gather my thoughts before continuing.

“That thing used to be my husband—”

“I am so sorry to hear that! If I'd known—”

“Don't worry about it. We'd already been divorced for several years. Getting an excuse to throw that son of a mule –

“No offense,” I said aside to the disgruntled mule passing by my door on crutches.

“– off the side of a mountain was the high point of that whole ordeal. Let's just say society didn't lose much in the bargain when he kicked the bucket.”

“Fair enough.”

“Overall it was scary, but satisfying. It wasn't much fun fighting something that was stronger, faster, and more naturally alert than me, but it feels good knowing that because of me, that monster won't hurt anypony ever again.”

Bon Bon nodded in approval.

“Most ponies do one of two things when they encounter a monster: They act like prey animals and freeze or flee…” Bon Bon said before pausing for dramatic effect. “Or they become national heroes. You didn't do either of those things. Can you tell me why?”

My eyes wandered a little farther from center as I looked for a good answer. I think I found one.

“If I froze up and got killed, who would take care of Dinky? If I flew away, then other ponies would have died. As for being a national hero…” I rolled my eyes in opposite directions. “I just don't think I have the face for it.”

“The Princesses could use ponies who think like that,” she said with a subtle smirk. “Ponies in general are peaceful creatures and creatures of habit. They prefer to ignore things like monster attacks that would keep them from peace and their usual habits.

“How would you like to be a part of making that possible?”

Author's Note

I borrowed the title of this chapter from a certain song by the band Yes. It's an old favorite of mine, and I'd been considering linking it within the chapter itself as a sort of soundtrack, but I find the song just lasts too long and doesn't really fit the mood of much of the chapter. I hope you enjoy the song regardless.

Chapter 3: The Princess Wants YOU

|/-Ponyville General Hospital-|/

“Her Highness’s Hunters used to hunt down monsters in the name of Celestia and Equestria. Monsters that decided to spend their time preying upon ponies, like the vampire you pancaked,” Bon Bon said. “With all the fallout from the Bugbear Incident a few years back, Celestia decided to shutter the agency and shunt its responsibilities onto the Guard and the EUP.

“I’ve managed to put together a case to get H.H.H. reopened on a trial basis. Now, I just need to finish assembling a team, and we’ll be back to defending the Equestrian public from the things that go bump in the night.”

Bon Bon looked me in an eye and said, “Derpy Hooves, I’d like you to be a part of that team. Do you have any questions?”

Yeah, I had a few.

“For starters, how am I going to take care of Dinky when I’m out hunting monsters?”

She took several seconds, visibly gathering a response together before she replied.

“How you go about that, exactly, is mostly up to you. Now I’ve never been a mother myself, but my parents were both monster hunters back in their day so I do have a bit of experience being on the receiving end. You could find somepony you trust to babysit for you whenever you’re out of town, or Canterlot could help you find somepony to look after her. You’d certainly be able to afford it, between the stipends and the hazard pay. If you feel like she’s mature enough, though,” she said with a shrug, “you could just leave her at home alone. At least for the shorter missions, anyway. A lot of monster infestations take less than a day to clear out. My parents stopped hiring babysitters for anything short of a week-long excursion when I was about onety-two, but they’d been training me my whole life to be self-sufficient.

“So, what else is on your mind?”

“Well here’s the obvious one,” I said. “Bon Bon, you’ve known me since ya moved to Ponyville and set up a P.O. box in my house. They don’t make horse flies klutzier than me. I’m not even allowed near town hall after what happened last year. Knowing how, uh, destructive my being around is, are you sure you want me around? Almost everywhere I go, ponies bite me off as a flyability. Where does having me on your team start to look like a good idea?”

“Around the point where your abilities are recognized for what they are, rather than writing you off as an uncontrollable ball of destruction” she answered, a firm level of confidence in her voice. It was like she’d just been given the hook she needed to launch into a spiel she’d spent a good chunk of time preparing. Oh wait, that was exactly what had just happened.

“There were certain items from around where you fought: A loose chunk of masonry lying below a formerly fancy edifice, a splintered bookshelf filled with the mangled corpses of pretentious management tomes… Forensics found something interesting about them. What can you tell me about how they got there?”

‘Horse-apples. I hate talking about my accidents.’

“Well, I was trying to jump over the vampire so I could get out of the room and run away, except I clipped the bookshelf and took a tumble out of the room instead. Then the bookshelf fell over, blocking the doorway. I think that was the first time something like that had happened in a convenient sort of way.

“As for the chump of masonry, that fell on his head after I slammed into a wall.”

“They couldn’t say much about the bookshelf, given its state at the time, but Forensics said it looked like it had been pretty sturdy when it was still standing. That hunk of masonry, though, that’s what really tipped him off.”

“Tipped them off to what? That I’m unusually clumsy? Not much of a shocker there,” I said, rolling my eyes just a little out of sync.

“Not quite. As I was saying, that piece of masonry was strange in that it had no business falling out of that wall. There wasn’t a single loose stone anywhere around the hole that it left. The readings on the TKR meter were all scrambled, too. Forensics was so stumped by that that he decided to call in Magic Analysis. When she got there, she found the objects in question were radiating off a kind of chaos magic called entropy magic.”

I slowly blinked, one eye at a time.

‘Chaos magic,’ I thought. ‘That’s not one of the schools of magic they teach in flight school. Hay, last time I ever heard “chaos” and “magic” in the same sentence was when Princess Twilight was talking about Discord—’

“What?!” I shouted, bolting forward in my hospital bed and setting the world spinning. “Are you saying that every time something found some impossible way ta go wrong around me, that it’s been my fault? That I’ve been leaking chaos magic all ovah the place? Like… Like the stuff Discord used to turn Ponyville upside down, both figuratively and literally? Isn’t chaos tragic Bad?! The kind of Cad with a capital ‘B’?! That all this time, I could’ve accidentally turned my little Muffin into a factual muffin just by hugging her wro—”

“Derpy!” Bon Bon interrupted. “Breathe! That’s not how all, or even how most chaos magic works, and Dinky has never been in any real danger from you.”

I took a minute to catch my breath and we waited for the frantic beeping of my heart monitor to slow down.

“Ok,” I said once I’d calmed down. “I’m pretty obviously missing something important here. Think you can fill me in?”

I gave her a sheepish grin.

“Of course, Derpy. The thing about a lot of magic, chaos magic and pegasus magic in particular, is that it’s emotional. When it goes off and how it behaves when it does has a lot to do with how you’re feeling and how much stress you’re under. Think back to some of your ‘accidents.’ How did you feel right before some of them?”

“Well,” I said, taking a moment to think about it, “I can’t really say it’s one consistent emotion. When that bookshelf fell, I was scared out of my mind. Well, almost out of my mind. When the stone fell on Railroad’s head, I was—wait, does pain count as an emotion?”

“Not really. It’s really more of a sensation.”

“Well, I guess I was a mix of anger, fear, grim determination, and – most of all – stoned surprise. Railroad Spike had gotten a lot faster since the last time I’d seen him.

“And then there was the town hall incident last year. Ya see, I had just gotten picked to help Rainbow Dash set up some thunderclouds around town hall. I never get to help out with weather duty, and it’s so much fun moving clouds around, feeling the energy inside of them… it’s just infectious. Plus, I was getting a chance to work with Rainbow Flippin’ Dash! Mare’s a living legend. I didn’t even care that the only reason they picked me was because literally everypony else who could move a cloud was busy. It had been forever since my last accident, too, so I thought it would be nice to be helpful while I was on a clean streak.

“I’m still not quite sure what went wrong. I was having a great time, following instructions while feeling the pleasant buzz of moving charged thunderclouds, but I was also really anxious not to pinfeather – er, pardon my Prench – mess anything up, and next thing I knew all of the clouds were discharging at once in a single column through me into Town Hall.

“I was pretty embarrassed about that, so I tried hanging back and just giving Rainbow some moral support. Instead, I ended up giving her one of the building’s supports. To the face. By that point, I just wanted to sink down into the ground, so I, uh, did exactly that. When I sat down, I ended up crashing right through the floor, taking Rainbow Dash with me. I had just wanted ta help so bad,” I said, attempting to sink deeper into the way-too-firm-for-my-liking hospital mattress. I really miss sleeping on clouds sometimes. Nothing beats a cloud for a good sulk.

“Yep, that’s definitely consistent with how I understand it to work,” Bon Bon said. “You needed to escape, and it bought you time. You wanted to cave his skull in, and it tried to oblige. As for Town Hall, I’ll make an educated guess and say that you had already been suffering from a magic build-up when you went in. Entering a stressful situation with an overabundance of entropy magic is a recipe for catastrophe. That is, unless you have a convenient release valve available.

“One of the plus sides of hunting monsters for you,” she said with a sly smile, “is that you’ll have plenty of acceptable targets on which to vent your anger and frustration, as well as your excess entropy magic. With a little training, I bet you could even direct your magic somewhat reliably. Having a small landslide crush a horde of devil roaches sounds pretty useful to me, so yes, I would like you to be on my team.

“Your unique talent for courting disaster isn’t even the main reason why I’d want you with us. I just mentioned it first because I thought you’d be happy to hear that we’d figured out what was causing you to have so many spectacular ‘accidents’ whenever you were upset.

“You’re right, Derpy. I have known you for a while. I know that even though you don’t really love your job, you give it your all and you do it with a smile. When you set yourself to a task, you’re dedicated. You evidently love your daughter literally more than life itself. You can still function when you’re scared out of your wits. I like the idea of a pony with those qualities having my back.

“Oh, and you’ve gone hoof-to-hoof with a vampire armed with nothing but your environment, your magic, and your own body and come out on top, and the blood loss was the worst thing that ended up happening to you. That counts for something too, I guess,” she said with a wink.

I arched an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t the blood loss usually be the worst thing that happens when fighting a vampire?”

“You’d be surprised.”

‘Well, I guess it’s hard to argue with experience.’

“Speaking of my fight with my ex,” I asked, “whatever did happen to all of those… thralls, I think he called them?”

“Without the vampire who took control of them still unalive to boss them around, they seem to have mostly gone back to their normal selves. Canterlot has them all under observation right now, though, in case any of them decide to turn.”

“What will Canterlot do if any of them do turn into vampires?”

“Kill them where they stand at the first sign of change. Or where they lie,” she replied, all emotion having vanished from her voice. “Vampires are serious trouble if they can get their hooves under them, as you’ve already seen, but they’re vulnerable when they first start out and are coming into their new powers. Anypony who chooses to become one was already a parasite in life, and they only ever get worse after that. Like you said about your ex, there’s not much lost to society when they kick the bucket.”

‘That’s a grim thought. I guess that explains the garlic bread…’

About a minute passed in silence. What she said clearly wasn’t wrong, but I still didn’t quite know what to make of it. All of the cheer and enthusiasm had just drained from her face, leaving only grim determination behind.

She must have noticed me noticing her, because her expression quickly warmed back up when she finally broke the silence.

“Remember, Derpy, it’s always a choice to become a monster. Nopony can force that on you, or on anypony else.”

“Well that’s… That’s good to know.”

“So, do you have any other concerns about signing up with Triple H?”

“Well,” I replied, “I still have a couple of concerns. If I join your team, then it’ll mean quitting my job as Ponyville’s mailmare. They’ll have to find a replacement for me, for one thing. For another, that’ll mean movin’ me and Dinky out of our home in the post office, and we don’t really have a place to go.”

“Since both your current position as Ponyville’s mailmare and your prospective position with Triple H are managed and paid for by Canterlot, you wouldn’t technically be quitting your job; you’d just be transferring to another department. That might not mean a lot to you, but it means a lot less paperwork for me, heh.

“You’re still right about their needing to find a replacement for you and about your need to move out, though. The replacement won’t be a huge issue. It’s the Government. They’ll have somepony flying your old route before you even walk out the door. As for housing, I would like to inform you that Her Highness’s Hunters offers its new employees a generous relocation bonus of one-hundred chips with which to procure lodgings closer to our base of operations just outside Ponyville.”

‘Yeesh,’ I thought, ‘she wasn’t kidding about generous. That is way more than I’d want to carry around in bits or bars. I may not be able to afford a mansion with that, but it’s definitely enough that I won’t need a mortgage for our next home.’

“Still,” she continued, “I can’t deny that a move might be disruptive for your daughter, and I don’t have an easy answer for solving that potential problem. That’s going to have to be between you and her.”

I took a few seconds of the following thoughtful silence to gather the nerve to ask my next question. It was a bit of a doozie.

“Well,” I said, “I guess we should also talk about the elephant in the room. Monster hunting doesn’t seem like the safest profession I could have, if my last run-in with a monster is anything to go by. What—” I pause briefly to blink tears out of my eyes. “What’ll happen to Dinky if, one day, I can’t come back home? I don’t really have any family that could take her in, and I don’t want to burden Carrot Top more than I already do. I can’t just have her sent to an orphanage, though. You said your parents used to hunt monsters. What sort of plans did they have to care for you if they ended up dying out there?”

She took a few thoughtful seconds herself, and then steeled herself to deliver her answer.

“Derpy, I won’t lie to you. Our work is dangerous, and ponies have died hunting down monsters for Celestia and Equestria. That’s why we’ll have a team, though. We’ll all be there to watch each-other’s backs, cover our weaknesses, and make sure we all get back alive. Still, it’s good to have a backup plan should the worst come to pass. For starters, you’ll definitely want to take out some life insurance on yourself. Beyond that, you’ll want to have somepony lined up that promises to take Dinky in in case of your death or extreme disability. It’s not a comfortable thing to talk about, but not having a plan for this situation is the worst way it can go down. If you can’t find anypony yourself, then Canterlot can help you there as well. I don’t mean by sticking her in an orphanage someplace, shuffling her around in foster care, or making her a ward of the state, either. The princesses look after their little ponies, especially those ponies that are in their service.

“If anything does happen to you before you can make any arrangements, though… then Lyra and I will take care of Dinky ourselves. I know that doesn’t sound like much comfort, and Lyra is a little… different, but she’s really a good and caring mare. She even attended Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns with Princess Twilight, back in the day, so she’d probably be able to help Dinky with learning to use her magic—”

I flashed out a wing to cut her off, wincing at the soreness that brought out. ‘Right. Still not healed all the way yet.’

“Bit’s ok, Bon Bon,” I said with a sniffle. “It’s—good to know that my daughter would be in good hooves if I can’t come back home one day. You’ve definitely addressed all of my main concerns. Hay, maybe I can still get Lyra to tutor Dinky without waiting for me to die first, if she doesn’t mind.”

“So you’ll take the job?” she asked.

“I’ll have to sleep on it.”

“Well, get back to me in a week. The monsters won’t wait forever.”

After that, Bon Bon and I drifted towards less exciting topics, like whether Lily or Roseluck grew tastier posies or what kind of antics we’ve seen Princess Twilight and her friends getting into in town, whiling away the rest of my visiting hours until Nurse Gentle Touch shooed her away so I could get some rest. I was a little sad that Dinky didn’t get a chance to visit me today, but I was also kinda glad. I needed some time to digest the details of the situation I found myself in and figure out what I thought of it.

‘Maybe if I sleep on it,’ I thought, ‘I’ll know better how to feel about Bon Bon’s offer in the morning.’

And so I did.

Chapter 4: Prey Always

|/-Ponyville General Hospital-|/

I was ready to check out of the hospital not long after I woke up. Thin mattress or no, it seemed that that last bit of rest was all I needed to be right as a raincloud. Or right as a thundercloud, at least; I was still kinda tired, and Doctor Honey Balm still wanted me to avoid doing anything too unboring for a day or so so I wouldn’t tear out the stitches. I ended up thanking her for taking care of me before heading off to Carrot Top’s house to pick up Dinky.

I must have gotten a lot more rest than I’d planned on, because the sun was in the wrong end of the sky for it to be morning.

‘You could call me a tribalist for saying it, but earth ponies make the best doctors. I would know, too, with all the time I spend around doctors for one reason or another. There’s something about an earth pony doctor’s touch that just makes you feel better, and I consistently have a faster recovery when I’m in their care,’ I mused to myself as I left the building feeling much better than when I’d entered it.

‘You would not be wrong to say that. The nature of their magic makes them particularly good at mending things and restoring order to systems.’

I skidded to a stop, making the security guard at the door look at me funny. He went back to staring at his copy of Cosmare magazine after I shook my head and started walking again.

That mental voice wasn’t mine, but I was sure I’d heard it before.

‘Shadow?!’ I did my best to think at him. ‘How in the hay am I hearing you when I’m awake?’

‘I live in your head. It comes with the territory.’

‘Well, I suppose that makes about as much sense as anything else.’

There was a lull for a bit while I kept walking towards the edge of town. Nopony seemed to have noticed the conversation going on inside my head, which was just as well. I wasn’t in a big hurry to add “talks to voices in her head” to the list of things everypony knows is wrong with Derpy.

‘I think joining up with Her Highness’s Hunters would be good for you.’

‘Huh?’ I thought as a frown drifted onto my muzzle.‘I’d have thought you’d be against that sort of thing on principle, what with how you were offering to make me into a monster and all.’

‘Derpy, my host, you misunderstand my intentions. I did not offer you power out of some desire to “corrupt” you or some other such nonsense. I have always admired predators for their strength and cunning. A stupid or weak predator never lasts long, as you saw the other night. When I entered your mind, I saw neither stupidity nor weakness. I saw potential. While I do still feel that you would make a lovely wolf, you are still possessed of that strength I admire as a mere pony.

‘The way I see it, Bon Bon has offered you a way to move up in the world. A way to assert your strength over those who would prey upon you and yours. A way to put yourself at the top of your own food chain. Is this not what I wanted for you?’

‘Well, when you put it that way,’ I thought, unsettled, ‘that does sound sort of like the things you seem to like.’

‘I’ve taken a look around in here,’ he replied.‘You cannot tell me that you wouldn’t enjoy having some more power in your life. Not to mention it would also take care of those petty “money issues” you devote so much of your energy to worrying about.’

I didn’t really have an answer to that, and Shadow didn’t seem interested in continuing our conversation further right then.

|/-Carrot Top’s House-|/

Once Carrot Top’s place started to come into view, some spring started creeping into my step. By the time I got to her door, I was as close to bouncing as I could get without being in danger of popping my stitches.

I knocked on the door and said, “Hello? Muffin delivery service? I heard there was a little muffin here who needed somepony to take her home.”

I heard the sound of tiny hooves skittering across a hardwood floor. Or really, I heard the sound of Dinky Hooves skittering across a hardwood floor. As little as I liked him, Railroad Spike sure had a way with names.

I stepped back from the door in time for a lavender unicorn filly with my mane and tail to leap at its handle and swing it open.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” she shouted as she bounced around me. “Are you ok? Are those stitches? How long until you can fly again? What happened? Why couldn’t I come visit you? How’d Railroad Spike hurt you? Is he back in jail? Are we going to have to move again—”

I put a stop to the fountain of frantic questions the best way I knew how: by wrapping my little Dinky in both my wings and arms.

“Easy there, Muffin. Mommy’s ok now, for real this time. She just needs to take it easy for a couple of days. I’ll tell you the rest once we’re out of Auntie Carrot’s mane.”

As Dinky melted into my double-layered hug, one of my eyes drifted back up to the doorway to see a slightly tired Carrot Top smiling at us. She looked like she had questions, too, but didn't want to ruin the moment.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on Dinky for me while I was in the hospital. It meant a lot to me to know you were looking out for her.”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all,” she lied. “I’m always happy to help a friend in need, even if her daughter can be a bit of a worry wart.”

She punctuated her statement by lightly nuzzling Dinky’s head.

“Don’t worry about going out to the market tomorrow, either,” she said, bringing her head back up to look me in an eye. “I filled up your fridge this morning with a little help from Dinky, so you should be clear to relax and heal up for a while.”

While I could have just stood there forever with Dinky in my embrace, I also really wanted to get home. I was tired, and I owed Dinky a talk.

I released Dinky from my hug and said, “Well, my little muffin, it’s time for us to head home. Now what do we say to the nice pony who looked after you?”

She turned to Carrot Top, beamed, and said, “Thank you, Auntie Carrot! I’m gonna head home now!”

“Goodbye, Carrot,” I said as Dinky trotted out of the doorway and onto the road home. “You’re a lifesaver. Really.”

“Don’t mention it. Just let me know if you need anything.

“Also,” she whispered as I was about to turn and leave, “I’m here if you need to talk to somepony about what happened once Dinky’s in bed.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” I said back.

We gave each other a brief parting nuzzle, and then I set off to catch up with Dinky.

|/-Ponyville Post Office-|/

I crawled up onto my bed and lay down, which Dinky took as a cue to start the discussion that we’d had coming.

“Mom, you came home from Canterlot all covered in blood. It was worse than any accident you’ve ever been in since I can remember,” she said, her eyes watery with concern. "This one… It wasn’t just an accident, was it."

I’m proud of her for it, but sometimes I wish she wasn’t quite such an astute little filly. Ah well, I was planning on telling her anyway.

“No, Dinky,” I said with a sigh, “it wasn’t.”

“What did—No, how did he do that? I’d never seen wounds like those before. Is he still out there? Is he going to try to hurt us again?”

She was trembling. Why in the wide, wide world of Equestria did I ever think talking to Railroad Spike was a good idea?

“Yes, it was grim. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, though. He won’t hurt you, me, or anypony else evah again.”

She started to relax – stopped trembling, even – but then she tensed back up.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her head tilted incredulously. “Is he finally locked away for good?”.

I deflated with a grimace. This was going to be a bit of a doozie to explain.

“Dinky, you said you hadn’t evah seen wounds like the ones I came home with before. That’s because I’d nevah come home with bite marks.”

“Bite marks?” she said, climbing up my bed to get a closer look at the stitched-shut wounds on my neck. “But ponies don’t—ponies can’t bite like that. Did he sic dogs on you or something?”

No buts about it, now was the time to bite into the lemon.

“You’re fright about one thing, Muffin. Ponies can’t bite like that. He didn't lick any dogs on me, though. Dogs nevah could stand him… Railroad Spike wasn’t a pony anymore when I met with him the othah night. He’d turned into a vampire…”

Dinky just stared into my eyes, open-mouthed, as I told her the story of my fight with Railroad Spike. I left out the bit with the thralls and my making their ears burn.

“Well,” she said after the several seconds of stunned silence after I got to the part about Railroad Spike’s rather... pancakely ending. “I guess that means we’re not going to see any extra bits from that direction.”

I cringed. Very on-the-nose. She’s more with-it than I am when it comes to keeping track of some of those less wonderful parts of life, a lot of the time.

“No, Muffin. Well, not from exactly that dissection.” I gaze sadly into her little eyes. “Will you be able to forgive me?”

Her nose crinkled. “Forgive you? For what?”

She sniffled, tears welling in her perfect, golden eyes.

“He attacked you! I don’t think he ever wanted to help us. You stopped him, too. He was a bad pony, and then he turned into something worse. He was going to hurt a lot of ponies, and you stopped him. He was going to hurt me, and you stopped him!”

She buried her face where my crest met my withers, careful to avoid my injuries, and cried. Her terror, her stress, her anger, and her sadness all flowed out of her, infusing my coat with tears and filly goobers.

Children are wonderful. Don’t let anypony tell you otherwise.

“Besides, Mommy,” she said once the tears slowed down, “I know you’ll find a way to take care of me. You always find a way.”

Now seemed like a good time to shift the mood of the conversation. “Speaking of money, my little accountant,” I said as I tickled her with a wing, “I think now’s a good time to go over the different demolitions of Equestrian currency.”

“Don’t you mean,” she tried to say around ticklish gigglesnorts, “denominations?”

“That’s what I said. Now, what are the different bee pollenations?”

Sometimes I’ll mix words up on purpose, just for her.

She scrunched her face up in a scowl of appreciation before answering. “The two most common denominations are the bit and the bar. The bit is the standard unit of currency, while the onety-bit bar is used for larger purchases. There’s also the pip, onety of which add up to make one bit. They’re good for really small purchases, like buying candies from Bon Bon’s shop.”

“That's very good, Dinky, but you left out one decompilation: The chip. The chip is worth onety bars, or a hundred bits. Some ponies like to use them for very large purchases, like buying a new house. Speaking of which, we might just be doing that ourselves soon.”

“Whoah, we’re getting a new house? How?! Did you get promoted? Did you get, like, a bunch of promotions?”

“Kinda like a promotion. I’d still be working for the government, but it’d be in a different department. If I took this new job, we’d nevah have to worry about bits again. Might have to worry about where to keep all the chips, though.”

“Wow, Mom! That’s amazing! You could get a real cloud bed, we could have candy and ice cream every day, we could get the exotic fruits at the market – I’ve always wondered what a kumquat tasted like – Diamond Tiara would stop—Wait… what kind of new job would this be, if it’s not exactly the same as a promotion?”

“Somepony noticed that I, uh, stopped a vampire all by myself, and now the Princesses want me to fight monsters for them.”

And then my daughter’s eyes grew three sizes, rapidly filling with yet more fearful tears.

“But Moooom!~ I just got you back! I almost lost you. You almost d-died from fighting one monster, and now you’re going to be fighting all the monsters?! All the bits in the world won’t buy me a new you.”

‘Well, so much for easing her into the idea,’ I thought to myself.

“I know that money can't replace me, Muffin, but it won’t have to. Fighting monsters won’t evah be as bad as when I fought that blood sucker. When I fought him, all I had were my own head, wings, and hooves. If I join Her Highness’s Hunters, though, I’ll be way better off than that. Not only will I have the best fear Equestria can make, I’ll also be fighting monsters with friends. I’ll always have friends with me to watch my back and make sure I get back home to you in the same number of pieces I left in.”

She didn't seem overly impressed, but she didn't say anything about it.

“Dinky, do you remember how you said I stopped Railroad Spike from hurting a lot of ponies?”

Dinky flinched slightly when I said that. I probably wouldn't have noticed if she weren’t still snuggling my neck.

“Well, what if Mommy could save a lot more ponies from being attacked by monsters? What if I could make it so lots of little colts and fillies don’t have to worry about being attacked by monsters, because I found the monsters first? What if I could use my special talent to make the world a safer place? Wouldn't that be a good thing?”

She scrunched up her muzzle in thought.

“The princesses need ponies like me, Dinky.”

“They might need ponies like you, Mom, but do they need you? Because I need you. I can’t settle for a substitute.”

The two of us stared off into space for a quarter minute, until I remembered something.

“Dinky, do ya know what the worst part of fighting that vampire was?”

“The blood loss?” she replied right away.

I chuckled. “That's what ya’d expect, but no.

“The worst part of that fight was the fear. It was the paralyzing, unnatural fear he was flooding my mind with. Stick almost anypony in that situation, and they’d have been turned into bloodless statues. Ya know what I had that other ponies wouldn't?”

I felt her shake her head.

“I had you, Dinky,” I said, stroking her spine with a hoof. “Whenever I was too scared to move, all I had to do was think of you, how I had to get back home to you, how I needed to keep you safe… and I would break out of it.

“The pony who wanted to recruit me for triple H, she told me that dealing with fear like that is something most ponies can't do. That’s one reason why they need me: to do things that other ponies can't.”

We just lay quietly there on top of my bed for a bit, until Dinky spoke up again.

“Mom, I know this is important to you, and important to the princesses, too. And the bits to take care of me have to come from someplace. And you’ll always have other ponies looking out for you, so it won't be as dangerous. But please,” she said, pulling herself up to look me in both eyes, “please promise me you'll never do something that… m-makes it so you can’t come back to me. Promise?”

I looked into her beautiful, watery eyes, making an effort to focus both eyes on hers at once.

“I promise, my little Muffin. I promise.”

And then I wrapped my arms around her and continued to lie there as I began to drift off.

“So, who was the mare from Triple H?”

“It was Bon Bon, actually. Darndest thing.” I let out a yawn. “Turns out she’s been some kind of secret monster-hunting agent this whole time. I always kinda figured Lyra would be the one with the wacky background,” I said as I lazily shrugged my less painful wing.

“Makes sense to me,” she said with a shrug of her own. “It explains why she wouldn't let me eat any of those ‘special’ bonbons I found, anyway.”

'That makes sense, I guess,’ I thought to myself.

I let out another world-eating yawn.

“Muffin, Mommy’s tired. If I crash out now, can you get yourself some dinner from the fridge?”

My daughter chuckled.

“Sure thing, Mom. Auntie Carrot made sure we won't starve while you're getting better.”

“That was… nice of her.”

My head fell to my pillow as my day decided it was done for then.

“Good night, Dinky. Don't stay up too late.”

She's such a good daughter.

|/-Lyra and Bon Bon’s Residence—Slightly Less Than One Week Later-|/

“I’m in,” I said after Bon Bon opened her door.

“Welcome to the team,” she said. “Orientation’s on Tuesday.”

Chapter 5: (dis)Orientation

It hadn't been easy to get used to, but having a second opinion about things was actually kinda useful. Even if Shadow wasn’t quite up on all the latest on home values and the like, he was pretty good at reading ponies when they were trying to take advantage of me. He was always keen on pointing out predatory behavior in ponies I came across, especially when it was directed at me.

Speaking of home values, my and Dinky’s new nest was just about everything I could have hoped for. Four bedrooms (I’d planned to turn two of them into guest rooms), two bathrooms (in case both Dinky and I needed one at the same time), a kitchen with crystal counters and a thaumic induction cooktop (it could make a pot of water boil while you watched it), a wide pantry with high shelves and a stepladder, and even a nice open reading room with a wall of windows on the north side (Dinky told me this was her favorite part). It might not have been a mansion like what the Riches had, but it was a good house. Owning it outright, no strings attached, was a big weight off my mind as well.

I only ended up spending seventy of my one-hundred chips on the house itself, which left me with a still pretty sizable onety chips to spend or save for whatever. I spent one of them on a cloud bed for myself, since Dinky insisted. She wouldn’t let me not get myself one after all the grumbling she’d heard me do in the mornings about how comfy clouds were compared to box springs. It was a fancy one, too, even for a cloud bed. Its outer shell was some kind of new synthetic fabric, with its insides coated in enchanted gold foil. At its core, according to the brochure, was a base made from structural stratus topped with a layer of fluffy cumulus. The result was a bed firm enough to withstand the assault of a bouncing unicorn filly, yet soft enough to accept a weary pegasus who’d just had a wonderful, exhausting day without forcing her to contort herself in ways Twilight never meant pegasi to bend. That was the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time.

Not before Dinky and I had celebrated the move with an entire tub of cookie dough ice cream, though. At my insistence.

|/-Her Highness's Hunters Campus-|/

My new workplace was actually pretty close to my new house, which was really nice. Until recently, I’d had much longer mail routes than my new commute.

I’d describe the campus as being not so much imposing as it was sprawling. It might not have been one quarter the size of Ponyville, but I still had to fly up a ways before I could see the whole thing.

Weren't very many ponies there, though. Only ones I saw from above were moving construction equipment out of there.

I landed in front of the central building where we’d meet for the orientation (with about onety minutes to spare), walked inside, and almost immediately found one of my new co-workers.

“Howdy, stranger! M’name’s Steely Hoof,” the iron gray earth stallion said as he extended a… steely hoof. “You must be one of the new recruits. What do ponies call you?”

One of the blessings of having a wandering eye is that ponies can’t really tell when you’re staring. I didn’t mean that his hoof was steel-colored (though his other hooves kinda were). I meant that his hoof was literally made of steel. As in, his left foreleg had been replaced by a collection of magically moving metal parts a little below the elbow.

“I see you’re ogling my mechanical hoof,” he said, a smirk on his muzzle.

‘Horse apples! How the hay did he notice?’

“Don’t worry,” he said with a chuckle, “I ain’t offended, ma’am. I mean, it is kind of an eye-catcher, and I’m all about catching eyes.”

‘Did he just pose?’

‘Yeah, Shadow, I think he did.’

“Wanna hear the story of how I got it?”

“Sure,” I said, after a few seconds of continuing to boggle at him. “It is kinda mysterious, I guess, heh heh.”

“Let's walk and talk. Apparently there's this big orientation meetin’ in a few minutes that everypony’s supposed to be at,” he said with a wink.

“So it all started with my being in that most dangerous of situations—I was bored. Bored out of my gourd. You’d think it would be darn-near impossible to get bored when you're in the EUP, but it's easy if you try.

“Anyhow, I’d heard word that a posting had opened up in one of our bases overseas, and I completely failed to hesitate to volunteer. My superiors were pretty eager to recommend me for the post, too, which should have been my second clue as to what I was getting myself into…”

It was quite a story. To hear him tell it, the frontiers of Neighpon are four times wilder than the lands around Dodge Junction that he hailed from. Rogue ronin galloping across the countryside like pre-classical knights errant in search of honor, adventure, or profit, corrupt daimyos fighting each other for land both on the battlefield and in the shadows—there was even a ninja.

“So the reason this ninja was so dangerous was because there was exactly one o’ them, and they – I never did figure out if they were a mare or a stallion—”

“Steeeeee-leeeeeee Hoof! You corruptin’ the new blood again?” A light-golden-brown unicorn shouted as she rounded a corner in front of us. She took a position in our procession between me and Steely, her glare cooling from furious to wry as she turned to address me directly. “Has my little brother gotten to the part where he was partnered with a fully-grown dragon for the seven-legged race yet? That’s always one of my favorite parts.”

“Why, Golden Gleam, I was just getting acquainted with this fine mare. And besides, there weren't going to be any dragons involved at all this time. This one was going to have me lose the hoof putting on a fireworks show for the Emperor of Neighpon. His Highness loved the show, by the way,” he said, turning to wink at me again over his sister’s back.

“Anyhow,” he continued, “me and miss… Shoot, I never did catch your name. My mama would tan my hide ‘erself if she caught me yammering away like that to a lady without even finding out what to call her.”

“You incorrigible scoundrel!” Golden Gleam said as she conjured a bright goldenrod-yellow ball of light and pinged him in the head with it. “Already hitting on the new recruits? What would Mama think about that?”

“Technically speakin’, we’re all new recruits, Goldie. And I’ll have you know Mama would think I was bein’ a perfect gentlecolt.”

‘Yep. Definitely siblings,’ I thought.

‘Indeed.’

“Anyway,” I butted in, “my name’s Derpy. Derpy Hooves. It’s nice to beet a couple of nice ponies so soon after getting here.”

“...Beet?” she said.

‘Ehhhghgghg.’

“Sorry. Sometimes my mouth says things my brain doesn’t tell it to. Ha, ha?” I said through the nervous, way-too-wide smile on my probably beet-red face.

“Y’mean like three quarters o’ everything Steely here says?”

“Hey! I resemble that,” he fired back, glaring at his sister with a scrunched-up face.

She returned his glare, and they shared it for all of three seconds before they both broke out laughing. I stared for about one more before joining in.

“You’re alright, Derpy,” Golden Gleam said. “Anypony who can laugh at us and themselves can’t be too bad, I reckon. Come on, we’re not far from the room.”

As we rounded a corner in the hallway, we ran into Bon Bon. (Not literally, thank Twilight.)

“Derpy Hooves. Steely Hoof,” she said. “I see Golden Gleam managed to track you down for orientation. I was starting to worry you ponies had gotten lost in the complex, so I was coming to look for you myself.”

“They, or Steely more really, didn't exactly make themselves hard to find with all his yackin’. He’d about talked that poor mare’s ears off when I found them.”

“With all due respect, ma’am—” Steely winced as another ball of golden light pinged off his head. “We’ve still got three minutes until things are s’posed ta begin.”

Two more lightballs pinged off his head. He gave his sister a brief glare.

“That’s not quite necessary, Gleam,” Bon Bon said. “Steely Hoof isn’t wrong; I’m just… anxious to get going. This team is important to me, and I want us all to get started on the right hoof.

“The other two ponies are already inside,” she said as she kicked a plate to open the door.

As the door swung open, I saw a small amphitheatre with a few small cushions lying around on the lower levels, and the sort of blackboard, retractable screen, and projector combo you’d expect to see in a university classroom. Or, at least what I’d assume you’d find in one of those. Completing the picture was a black-topped demonstration desk – the kind that looks fire-, acid-, and just-about-anything-proof and has a ton of storage space. I wondered what we’d need all that for…

There were two ponies in there already. One was an overcast gray pegasus stallion with a dark gray-blue mane and what looked like a permanently sour expression on his face. He was sitting on a cushion near the far side of the amphitheatre. The other was standing between the desk and the blackboard. He was a middle-aged pale burgundy unicorn stallion with a close-cropped crimson mane, and he was smiling softly at us like he’d recently finished a good nap.

“Ah, Bon Bon!” the unicorn said. “I see you’ve located the rest of the team. Shall we begin, then?”

“No, let’s wait for two minutes twenty,” she said, casting a playfully baleful glare at Steely Hoof. “We wouldn't want to get started early now, would we?”

The amphitheatre was clearly meant to hold a way bigger audience than four. I found myself a seat on the cushion between Steely Hoof and the pegasus. Golden Gleam took a seat on the ground between me and Steely Hoof, leaving the cushion on the sour pegasus's right empty.

The remaining seconds ticked away on the simple clock hanging in the top right corner of the room until the clock struck the hour and Bon Bon cleared her throat.

“Welcome, everypony, to the halls of Her Highness's Hunters. This campus is where we will meet every morning for the rest of our foreseeable lives. This room is where we’ll begin and end our days for the next few weeks while we train you to fight monsters. Now, some of you are going to need more training than others, but—”

Sourpuss raised a wing in question.

“Yes, Thunderhead?”

“I am here to fight monsters, not play soldier. Why should I be here doing drills and reading books when I could be out there, killing monsters? I thought the point of this was to be more proactive than that joke we call the Royal Guard.”

A dangerous look flashed onto Bon Bon’s face.

“Thunderhead, since you're so obviously ready to get out there and kill some monsters, please come to the front of the room for a demonstration.”

He walked briskly up to Bon Bon and started to say, “Okay, what sort of demonstration do you wa—”

Bon Bon kicked his two right legs out from under him with one leg, only to catch his wing with another when it flailed out for balance. She used his wing as a lever to flip him over and slam him onto his side, and then pinned him in place with one hoof locking his wing and another putting weight on his barrel.

Her demonstration in effect, she looked up from Thunderhead and addressed the rest of us. “There are way worse things out there than kittybolds and cockatrices, ponies. Things that will tear out your throat before you can scream if you're not taught the tricks to spotting them from a distance. Things that will make your mind and body lock up with supernatural fear if you haven't been trained to resist it. Things that will take advantage of your first instincts like I just did with Thunderhead, unless we replace those instincts with better ones through extensive drills. Things that I and others have been trained to fight our entire lives, and that we’re willing to teach you to fight effectively.

“Now if any of you would rather not go through with training, or if you don't plan to follow orders with exactness, I will remove you from the team now before some monster does the job for me.

“Any further questions?” she said, looking over the rest of her audience. None of us made a sound.

“Good,” she said, releasing Thunderhead from her painful-looking pin. “Demonstration finished. You may return to your seat, Thunderhead.

“Now,” she continued, “you all know me as Bon Bon. As far as you’re concerned, I am the leader of this outfit. Generally speaking, I will be leading you in the field.

“This fine stallion here is Crimson Tape. He might not be working with you in the field, but he is a wizard at slicing through his namesake in bureaucracy and paperwork, and is half the reason why Her Highness's Hunters exists today. He’s in charge of budget, requisitions, waivers, pay stubs, and anything else you can imagine that requires forms in triplicate.

“Our mission at Her Highness's Hunters is to fight monsters so that other ponies don't have to think about them. We are Equestria's peace of mind when she goes to sleep for the night, and we are the reason why she doesn't wake up with a vampire on her neck.

“You report to me, Crimson and I report to Luna, and she reports to absolutely noone. We’re ghosts in this, like the garbage pony. You can tell ponies about what we do if you like, about the monsters you’ve fought and the towns you’ve saved... but if we do our jobs right, nopony will care.

“At this point, I would like to turn the time over to Crimson Tape.

“Crimson, If you would.”

“Certainly, my dear,” Crimson replied.

“Greetings, everypony,” he said. “As Bon Bon has previously stated, I am Crimson Tape, bureaucrat extraordinaire. I would like to speak on what will be expected of you as members of Triple H, both in the immediate future and in general.

“For the next few weeks, starting tomorrow, you will be expected to report to this room by onety-one-hundred hours for classroom instruction. Anypony who shows up late will be running extra laps at the end of that day’s physical training regimen: one lap per minute late for a unicorn, and two laps per minute late for an earth pony or pegasus. That rule and each of the others is delineated in the charter, which you will each receive a copy of at the end of the orientation.

“The start and end times are subject to change depending on what we will be doing that day…”

He continued on about rules and expectations like that for a while. I wished that I’d brought a pencil and notepad to take notes, though I supposed that having the charter would work if I ever forgot anything and needed to look it up.

It looked like I’d be spending some extra time away from Dinky over the next few weeks, but it didn't look like it would be too hard to arrange a few sleepovers with her friends to cover those times we’d be training at night.

“...And that brings us to what will be expected of you in terms of general conduct and responsibilities throughout your career.

“First-off, collateral damage: Try to keep it to a minimum. While I can’t, per the charter, dock your pay for it, doing significant damage to your environment means more paperwork for me, including interviews with you. Besides, it would mean missing out on your 'No Collateral Damage’ Bonuses for that mission. Whether it's worth missing out on that bonus or not is up to your judgment. A guideline I suggest is that a pony’s life is generally worth more than a building's structural integrity. We can, after all, always rebuild a building.

“Secondly, civilians in a combat zone: It's a scenario that comes up more often than we would like. It is not your job to remove them from the combat zone – leave that to other first-responders – but it is your job to remove the combat zone from them, if feasible. That is to say you should do your best to steer fights away from populated areas. In the event that a monster is possessing, mind-controlling, coercing, or otherwise forcing a civilian into the line of fire, then you are to use non-lethal force to remove them from combat. You will be taught a variety of non-lethal takedowns as part of your training.

“In the event of civilian fatalities,” he said, his prim joviality switched-off, “the pony or ponies involved will be taken off of active duty for at least a week for investigation and evaluation. While it most-likely will not result in expulsion from the team – Ms. Bon did not recruit bad ponies – it could result in paid long-term suspension paired with mandated therapy. Her Highness looks after her hunters.”

He let his audience take that in for a few seconds in silence.

“Thirdly,” he said, once-again full of levity, “Looting: For the love of Luna, do not loot combat zones. With what the crown is paying you, you could likely just buy whatever you’d find out there anyway.

“I believe that about covers my part of the orientation. Back to you, Ms. Bon.”

“Thank you, Crimson.”

“Now, I personally recruited each of you ponies, and I recruited each of you because you are exceptional.”

Bon Bon’s eyes unfocused, like she was reading off of a clipboard only she could see.

“Steely Hoof: Earth pony stallion, brother to Golden Gleam. Has a love for pyrotechnics and semantic technicalities, and rumor has it that one or both of these earned him that shiny prosthetic hoof of his. He’ll be our demolitions expert, and we’ll be needing him for that more than you’d expect.

“Has a special talent for manipulating life energy, which means he can pick a pony back up if they get hurt. It’s also how he has such fine control over his prosthetic hoof.

Steely Hoof preened, flexing his metal hoof.

“Also has a tendency towards tall tales and 'enhancing the truth,’ so all should be prepared to take his stories with a block of salt. That, along with his tendency to think inside the chimney when it came to following the letter of his orders, kept him from climbing the ranks of the EUP.”

His preening was replaced with a look of chagrin.

“In combat, Steely Hoof prefers to be in-the-fray on the front lines, and has developed the close-quarters-battle skills needed to thrive there. The rest of you could learn a lot from him there,” she said, giving a pointed look to Thunderhead.

“Golden Gleam: Unicorn mare, sister to Steely Hoof. Has a special talent for creating hard-light constructs, and she’s honed that talent to make deadly attacks and form impervious defenses at range, among other applications.

“Gifted with planning, implementing, and improvising battlefield tactics, and has been the EUP wargaming champion three years running. Despite this, she has consistently turned down promotions until now. Steely Hoof may be able to pick you up when you fall down, but listening to Golden Gleam will keep you from falling down in the first place. Of course, her shields are a lot of help there too, so try to stand behind those.”

Golden Gleam nodded subtly, a small, pleased smile on the tip of her muzzle.

“Derpy Hooves: Pegasus mare. Ponyville lost a great mail carrier, but we needed her more. Her special talent is her entropic touch. Her innate magic causes things to catastrophically fail in seemingly impossible ways, typically in ways harmful to the immediate target of her ire and the surrounding area. As a pony used to civilian life, her talent needs refinement to be more directly useful in combat. Properly trained, she could turn a fortified bunker into a death trap on a whim. Without training, she can still do that – just not as reliably, or as precisely. In short, she is not a mare whose bad side you want to be on.”

‘Well, I guess that’s a fairly positive spin on it.’

‘Spin is a necessary skill for any good leader, my host.’

“Beyond her talent, she is durable to a point most earth ponies would envy. I have seen her shrug off being flattened, clobbered, electrocuted, and all sorts of other things that would have had another pony calling for a medic. Just last week, she killed a vampire with her bare hooves in Canterlot. She then flew home to Ponyville to make sure her daughter was all right before being taken to the hospital.”

“Well once ya’ve been through childbirth,” I said, “All the other pain is kinda meh.”

That got a chuckle from Bon Bon, a polite nod from Crimson Tape, a smirk from Golden Gleam, a snort from Steely Hoof, and nothing from the still-fuming Thunderhead.

“Thunderhead: Pegasus stallion. Has a special talent for weather magic, particularly weather magic involving electrical storms. Results-focused to a fault, and ruthless in their pursuit. He is the sort of pony that, once he has a goal in mind, will power through anything and anyone that gets in his way. Though he was also, until recently, a civilian, he proved to have what his coworkers on the Stratusburg weather team described as ‘an alarming proficiency with weaponized lightning’ in the official report the city filed on the kittybold attack several months back. Other words they used to describe him included ‘proactive’ or ‘did not hesitate’ or ‘I never knew lightning could fork that way.’”

‘He hasn’t moved an inch since he got back to his seat,’ I noted.

“And me, Bon Bon: Earth pony mare. Your commanding officer. I have a special talent for making alchemical candies. I make ‘chocolates’ with effects ranging from explosives to sedatives, and more other effects than any of you will be able to keep track of. I can tell them apart easy enough, but I doubt that any of you can. Accordingly, I advise against eating random candies that you see lying around campus. If you get lucky and eat a benign one, I will make you run laps until you puke it back up. If you eat one and come down with a case of the explosions, then that will be its own punishment.”

She paused and looked around at this point, probably to let her last statement sink in and to drink in our queasy, unsettled expressions.

“I’ve been hunting monsters since I was onety-five,” she continued, “and had been training to do so for seven years before that. Believe me when I say that it is very hard to be overprepared for fighting monsters, but for you I will do my best.

“One thing we all have in common,” Bon Bon said, “is that we’ve all been government employees of some sort or another. Golden Gleam and Steely Hoof are both from the EUP Armed Forces. Thunderhead was a weather pony from Stratusburg out east. Derpy Hooves was a mailmare in Ponyville. Crimson Tape and I, well, we’re the last vestiges of the old organization.

“Together, we make up Her Highness's Hunters: An elite team of monster hunters that takes on those things that go bump in the night so other ponies don't have to think about them. Or really, an elite team is what we all will be, assuming none of you wash out of training.”

'Ah, the cycle of violence continues. You see that, my host? That is a predator’s grin. It appears you are in for some interesting times.’

‘I noticed,’ I replied, more than a little nervous.

'Good. That means you’re learning.’

Author's Note

Art of Steely Hoof was by me. I might decide to vector up some art for the other team members that get introduced this chapter at some point, if people are interested.

Chapter 6: Nightmare Class

|/-Her Highness's Hunters Campus-|/

“Good to see each of you took the warning about arriving late to heart,” Bon Bon said to us from behind the lecture desk. Said desk had a lumpy, pointy object on top of it obscured by a blanket. “Hunting monsters is serious business; typically speaking, they aren't going to sit around and wait patiently for you to arrive before causing mayhem.”

An affirmative murmur passed through the room. Thunderhead’s expression somehow got even darker.

“Accordingly, we’re going to start your education by throwing you into the deep end. You're going to go through something this morning that I sincerely hope most ponies never have to deal with in their entire lives.

“Today, little ponies” – she yanked the blanket from the desk – “you face your worst nightmares.”

“A rock?” Steely Hoof observed.

On the lecture desk sat a smoky black crystal hooked up by a gold wire to a gold-inlaid, gem-studded plate of (what would have onety-four years ago been a prince’s ransom in) aluminum, and an on-off switch.

On the far right side of the desk sat a pile of bonbons, as well as several sets of mirrored, yellow-green-tinted wraparound sunglasses.

Bon Bon blinked at him.

“It is not just a rock, Steely Hoof. This,” she said, waving at the whole thing, “is a Sombran Nightmare Crystal hooked up to a Dark Magic Generation Array, or DaMaGe Array for short.

“Its function is, literally, to make your mind dredge up its deepest fears and live through them. Once it's powered, a pony looking at it will be locked into a nightmare scenario until either they break out of it, a physical shock jolts them out of it, or the crystal loses power.”

‘If you look around,’ Shadow, erm, said? 'you’ll notice a cornucopia of fear responses.

‘Even Bon Bon?’ I thought back at him as I scanned the ponies in the room. 'I find that a little hard to believe.’

‘Especially Bon Bon. A nightmare crystal, while a fascinating and useful device, is still one to be reckoned with. I’m a little surprised to see the Equestrian government has access to one, and puts it to use. The nightmare is a harrowing experience every time, and she clearly knows this. See how her ears are slightly drooping and her mouth is drawn, like a filly mentally recounting all of the sweets she’s eaten since her last dentist appointment? A healthy amount of dread.’

I could kinda see it, now that he pointed it out.

‘Okay,’ I acknowledged. ‘What about him?’ I thought, looking at Thunderhead.

‘False bravado. Puffed-up chest, mantled wings—subconsciously trying to scare the crystal right back by making himself look bigger. And I don't even need to be able to read his lips to tell he is trying to psych himself up.

‘Golden Gleam? Tight as a bowstring. Well, moreso than usual. There is a mare who’s seen some things she wishes she hadn't.’

‘And Steely Hoof?,’ I interjected. 'He looks more relaxed than ever.’

He’d practically melted into his seat, or so it looked to me.

‘He’s about as afraid as everypony else. His response is to try to force himself to relax, or at least appear relaxed. But I can still detect extra tension, and he's trying too hard besides.

‘And then there's you, trying to keep yourself distracted even as you vibrate like you need to use the little filly’s room.’

I stopped jittering. Mostly.

“Some of you may have encountered magical fear effects in the past. While the experience will be different, you go about fighting one such effect in much the same ways as you do another. Some ponies remember what they're fighting for. Some ponies think happy thoughts. Some ponies focus on their faith and hope. Some ponies clear their mind and calm themselves. Some ponies” – she smirked – “even manage to power through it on a wave of spite and contempt.

“It doesn't matter much which way you pick, as long as you have a few ways that work for you when there's a vampire staring you in the eyes,” she said as her gaze drifted to me.

She donned a pair of the yellow-green glasses and said, “These sunglasses are your first official piece of monster-hunting gear. The 'glass’ part is green sapphire. Between the material, the color, the polarization, and the mirror finish, you should be safe from any sort of gaze-based attack you’ll ever encounter. Note that this only counts for as long as you are actually wearing them; I’ve seen more than my fair share of statues of ponies who were lifting their sunglasses to get a better view. Also, if you manage to scratch the lenses and not just the coatings, then congratulations! You are literally fighting a monster made out of diamonds, or possibly some manner of corundum crystal.

“Golden Gleam, if you would pass them out to your teammates so we can begin—”

Goldenrod nimbuses… nimbi? Clouds of magic engulfed the glasses and set them, gently and precisely, on each of our faces.

“Thank you, Gleam.

“Now, this exercise is called a nightmare run, but that's something of a misnomer: there won't be any actual running involved.” She paused to let me and Steely Hoof supply some weak chuckles. “Anyhow, this is a standard exercise for ponies who want to defend Equestria from things that go bump in the night. As your leader, it's only right that I go first as an example.”

She walked over to the DaMaGe array and flicked the on-switch, causing sickly purple, black, and green light to crackle down the gold wires and into the black crystal. She tossed a stopwatch to Steely Hoof and said, “Since I know I can rely on you to keep track of time with precision, I want you to give us the time from when my eyes open to the time they stop glowing.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said, snapping off a salute.

Bon Bon turned to the crystal, which was now bubbling with purple energy, removed her green sapphire glasses, opened her eyes, and froze.

Her eyes were wide open, the whites glowing bright green around tiny red pupils. She took a sharp breath as the glow faded and she set her glasses back on her face. Then she turned the device off, unwrapped a bonbon, and popped it into her mouth in one smooth motion.

She had a relieved look on her face, like the one Dinky gets when I put lidocaine on one of her cuts. Also like Dinky, that look was gone in an eyeblink.

“Time, Steely?”

“Two point seven four seconds,” he said, tossing the stopwatch back over.

“Huh,” she said, looking at the watch. “Guess I’ve let my training slip.

“Regardless, I’m not expecting times that fast from you four, especially on your first day.”

Steely’s hoof shot up.

“Question, Steely?”

“What's special about that bonbon ya just ate?”

“Nothing really,” she said with a slight smirk, “except that I made it.”

That'd always been special enough for me.

“Good question, though. As for the implied part of your question, eating food – especially chocolate – helps you recover from both normal and magical fear. You’ll want to bring some with you on missions for when you have a chance to take a breather.

“Any other questions?” she asked, scanning the room.

I raised my hoof.

“Yes, Derpy?”

“What did ya see in there?”

“I’d rather not say,” she said, stonefaced. Then she softened. “I can tell you, though, that there weren't any monsters.

“One more thing before we begin: In the event you see something disturbing during a mission or in training, we’re keeping a counselor on-campus on Luna's pip. You can visit Miss Quiet Mind for free anytime you're not supposed to be hunting monsters or training.”

She scanned the room again.

“Seeing as there are no more questions, let's begin. Any volunteers to go first?”

After about two seconds of silence, Golden Gleam rose from her cushion and marched to the demonstration desk with a sort of smooth, clockwork grace.

She nodded to Bon Bon, set her glasses on the table, and looked into the nightmare crystal as it began to glow.

She froze, and her eyes did the same thing Bon Bon’s had, but for a lot longer.

After half a minute of breathless silence, Bon Bon glanced at the stopwatch, slapped Gleam’s glasses back on, cut the power, and said “Thirty-six seconds. You're dead.” as Gleam flopped to the floor.

Then her face softened again as she helped Golden Gleam back up. “Take two candies. They're good for you.”

Gleam took two bonbons in her levitation aura, nodded her thanks, and then haltingly, eyes unfocused, made her way back to her seat by her brother.

Steely Hoof wrapped her in a one-armed hug (with his non-metal hoof), and she melted into it, slowly nibbling her bonbons.

Bon Bon cleared her throat to get our attention back.

“If you have an ally whose glasses fall off and they become frozen in magical fear, there are a few ways to break them out. In descending order of preference: put their glasses back on, give them a strong physical shock, get rid of the source of the effect, or donate your own glasses. That last option is far from ideal, unless you're really good at fighting with your eyes closed.

“This isn't light stuff we’re putting you through, but we're not training you to face things we could just sic the EUP or the ‘Royal Guard’ on, after all. I made it through my nightmare that fast because I’m a veteran. I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, and, more importantly, I know how to deal with them. These nightmare runs will get easier the more you do them, just like the rest of your training exercises.”

She blinked and looked at the ceiling for a second as she took a breath. “If you want to drop out, you can do so without penalty. You won't be easy to replace, though.

“Now, seeing the looks on your faces, I’m going to save you the trouble of volunteering and just call out names as I see fit. Steely Hoof?”

“Yes’m?” he said, looking up from his sister for a second.

“You get to go last. Derpy, you're up!”

‘Welp, might as well get this over with,’ I thought as I stood up and walked to the desk.

‘Remember, my host: If all else fails, I’ll still be there with you in the end.’

And then I nodded to Bon Bon, removed my glasses, and looked into the crystal as it began to bubble with purple energy—

|/-???-|/

I was walking up to my house while being buffeted by thick fog, and I couldn't hear a sound except for my own hooves on the paving stone walkway. Even that was quickly swallowed up by the featureless white.

The door was off its hinges.

Dreading what I’d find inside, I trudged through the fog and nosed my way past the door. On the other side was a very unwelcome surprise.

“How good of you to finally join me, Derpy my sweet,” my ex-husband said. He was the same pale red as before, but even more gaunt and skeletal than I remembered. “I love the new place, by the way, even if it does have far too much window space for my personal tastes.”

I stared at him for a couple seconds before I recovered.

“You're dead. I dropped you off a mountain,” I pointed out.

“The proper term is undead,” he said through a fang-baring sneer. “You never were too bright.

“But yes, that little tumble I took did cost me quite a lot of –” he ran his tongue over his red-stained fangs “– mmh, blood.”

Fresh blood. My house. No…

“Where's Dinky. Where's my slaughter,” I demanded.

“Our daughter? Such a polite little thing, unlike her mother. I can only wonder where she gets it from. She saw how thirsty Daddy was after all that blood loss and, well…”

He moved aside, revealing a shriveled, purple corpse. Like a fuzzy, filly-shaped raisin.

My blood froze, my wide eyes aligned, and a pit opened up in my stomach.

‘This isn't real This isn't real This can’t be real!’

‘You're right. What will you do about it?’

I let my head slump near the floor and flared my wings out, like I was bowing.

“A shame she didn't get to witness our reunion for herself. I did so enjoy having a daughter. I suppose we could always make another one, one way or another,” he said, stalking towards me.

I bowed deeper, disguising my disgust as a fearful shudder.

“Ya know, Railroad Spike,” I said quietly, letting my eyes unfocus, “I’ve been friends with predatahs befoah. Beautiful creatures, if a... little scary at first. They look at livestock the way you look at ponies. Especially pigs. One told me that with a pig, ya have ta bleed every last drop of blood out a’ them after they’re swilled, or they'll go bad.”

The vampire moved closer, to better hear me.

‘Just a little bit closer…’

“I’m curious how this little anecdote relates to the situation at-hoof. Is this your clumsy attempt at saying you want to try starting over with me? Because if so, I’m listening.”

“Well, to tell ya the truth, it's about a mistake I made when we met... last time,” I whispered.

“Yes?”

He was practically breathing down my neck.

‘Even if I can’t keep Dinky safe… doesn’t mean I can't save anypony!’

“Yeah,” I said. “This time, ya won't have enough blood left to feed a mosquitah, you pig!”

Then I thrust my wings down and slammed my head up into his chin, and the world shattered.

|/-Her Highness's Hunters Campus-|/

“Seven point two seconds. Not bad, even if this isn't your first rodeo. Eat this and take a seat.”

A bon bon popped into my open mouth, and the tension melted out of my back and wings as the confusion at standing at the front of a classroom drained from my mind. It was like waking up from a vivid dream.

Huh. I guess that's why they call it a nightmare crystal.

I made it back to my seat to watch the rest of the team do their own nightmare runs. Thunderhead made his in onety-four seconds, and Steely Hoof made his in onety.

“Okay, ponies,” Bon Bon shouted after Steely's run, “I’m giving you the rest of the hour off, as well as the next one so you have some time to recover and have a snack. I expect to see you on the field for warm-ups at onety-three-hundred hours, sharp! Enjoy your break, everypony.”

‘Thanks for the help, Shadow.’

‘What do you mean, my host? All I did was say a few words. You would have made it through in a few more seconds, at most.’

I could feel the smugness. He exudes it whenever he feels like he’s made a point.

‘Yeah, yeah, you're helpful, and could very well save my neck like that. I still don't want the “other services” you’ve offered.’

The smugness remained, but he didn't say anything else.

As we were trickling out of the room, I noticed Golden Gleam standing still by her seat, and walked over to her.

“You okay, Golden Gleam? Anything I can do to help?”

She let out a sigh before turning her head to face me with a weak smile. “I’ll be… I’ll be fine. At least in time for the next block of trainin’.”

“You're sure you don't want to talk about it? I could tell ya about mine.”

“Really? Seems like you’re hardly afraid of anything, way you blazed through your nightmare run,” she said, eyes downcast. “I’m sure you don’t want ta hear about mah… failure.”

With one of my eyes, I saw her gaze briefly flick to Steely Hooves.

“Mine involved family, too, if that helps,” I said.

She let out another sigh like a deflating beach ball. “Lucky guess,” she said.

“Not so plucky. I just see a lot, with these crazy eyes of mine.” I rolled my eyes out of sync with each other, earning an amused snort from Gleam.

“Don’t that hurt none?” she asked.

“Not really. They just kinda came untethered from each-otha when I was a filly, and I adopted.”

I flashed her a goofy smile.

“Well,” she said, “I might be willin’ ta talk about it later over drinks just…” she trailed off, before continuing in a whisper, “not with Steely in the room, okay?”

The smile she returned was just a bit more genuine than her last one.

“Sure. Hit me up sometime after I’ve put Dinky ta bed, and we'll stop by Berry's together.”

“Berry’s?”

“It’s a bar in Ponyville where they give government workers a discount. Really needed that discount some days. It's got a nice atmosphere, too, and it's not too loud.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that sometime soon, Derpy,” she said as she started moving towards the door. “In the meantime, I need ta find a snack.”

On hearing that, I dove into my saddlebags.

“Muffin?”

Author's Note

Ended up splitting a chapter in two again, surprising nobody. I did throw in something like a fight scene, though, so hopefully that's enough action to tide you over for now.

What may surprise some of you is that I plan to do a set of side-shorts for this fic as chapters of another story. In order to avoid a case of literary colon cancer, the new fic will be called Monster Hunter: Nights Out at Berry's. The aim of the shorts will be to shed some light on the main characters (apart from Derpy), their pasts, and their perspectives. The first one will be on Golden Gleam, and will take place chronologically shortly after this one. I hope you look forward to it as much as I do!

Chapter 7: Parks and Wrecks

|/-HHH Campus: the Track-|/

Believe it or not, I was a bit of a racehorse as a filly. I’d even beat future Wonderbolts like Rainbow Dash, before my cutie mark came in and my eyes started to go wonky.

Ooh that was a rough couple of years. But I got better! Mostly. Haven't crashed into anything I didn't mean to in weeks. But that's beside the point.

Anyhow. Loved racing as a filly. Even liked to do my mail route at speed in Ponyville, depending on how lucky I was feeling that day. Making myself go fast wasn't a problem, and was even something I enjoyed.

It was doing it on-hoof that was killing me.

“What I don't –” *huff* “– undahstand is –” I took a few deep breaths in and out to try to calm my heart after crossing the finish line about onety seconds ahead of a huffing and puffing Thunderhead who looked to be having an even worse time than me “– why I can't just fly these laps. I’m not outta shape, I swear, but this runnin’ll be the end a’ me.”

“You’re not out of shape… for a civilian,” Bon Bon said, barely sweating at all, “but where you were before won't cut it when you’ve got monsters breathing down your neck. It might suck now, but you’ll thank me for it later when you're acting as live bait in a goblin warren so Steely can blow them all to Tartarus.”

Steely waved on hearing his name, only a little sweatier than Bon Bon.

“Seriously, though,” she continued, “the running is to train your heart and your muscles, not your magic.” I gave her and Steely's legs a cross-eyed glare. “Training your magic starts later today.”

Figuring I’d done enough trotting-in-place for my mandatory post-run cooldown, I let myself collapse to the turf. “Does that include more running for the earth ponies?” I asked.

“Yes, and a bit of flying and weather for you and Thunderhead, and telekinesis exercises for Golden Gleam. But the main idea is to help you all with the expression of your special talents.”

“Especially mine, right?”

“Especially everypony's,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just because a talent’s special doesn't mean it's wholly unique, and even a natural can benefit from expert training. Golden Gleam could use some work on rapid construct creation under pressure, Steely Hoof could use some pointers on targeted life transfusion, Thunderhead needs convincing that there's more to weaponized weather than a lightning bolt to the center of mass… Hay, I’m going to use that time to compare notes on alchemy with Zecora. That zebra knows things about herbs that Equestrian alchemists haven't even guessed at, and I’d bet chocolates to chips that her continued survival in the Everfree Forest isn't just thanks to her winning personality.

“And you, Derpy, will get somepony to teach you how to have ‘accidents’ on purpose. Your talent is a rare one, but luckily, Celestia had somepony on tap. I think you’ll like her.”

|/-HHH Campus: Field 2-|/

Weapons training was actually kinda fun that day, if also kinda gross. We got to learn about axes. All kinds of axes.

“Axes," Bon Bon said, “are good for when you want to chop something tough, rather than try to smash or slice it. Great for decapitating vampires and zombies – which is the most reliable way to kill them when you don't have a convenient cliff to throw them off of – and the best weapon for hacking a timber wolf to kindling short of a flamme bon.”

Steely’s metal hoof shot up.

“No, Steely, you may not have a flamme bon. Those are for Special Occasions, and taste terrible besides.”

Steely retracted his hoof with a sheepish grin.

Before that day, when I’d thought of axes, it was always a mouth-axe for chopping trees or firewood. Those were a bit different from what we were working with at HHH campus.

For starters, all of these axes had round edges rather than flattish ones. Steely told me they were like that so a hit from any angle would be a direct hit, rather than a glancing blow. Aside from maybe Bon Bon, he was the best at axes in the team.

“Yes, Thunderhead. Strapping on more axes does make you more dangerous, but mostly to yourself until you're properly trained. Wings or hooves, but not both until I check off on it.”

Thunderhead screwed up his face for a few seconds, and then grudgingly put down the hoof axes and made his way back to the training... uh… dummies.

“Golden Gleam, axes are not swords. You swing them to build up speed for a good chop, not thrust and hope it's sharp enough! That's why it has a handle.”

You see, we were given a couple of different types of things to hack at with our axes. The first was specially shaped bundles of sticks—

“Come on, Steely! I’ve seen you kick innocent doors harder than that. Hay, I can hit harder than that, and I’ve been selling candy for the past umpty years! Try a chop that lame in the field, and you’ll be fertilizer!”

—Which was meant to be like hitting a timber wolf, while the other, was—

“Oof. Good work, Thunderhead,” Bon Bon said after a spray of brains and teeth. “Love your enthusiasm. Good to see you’re not afraid to get your wings dirty. Maybe work on your precision a bit, though. The neck’s a little further down, and a lot easier to get through.”

—Pig carcasses. Slightly rotten pig carcasses. Bon Bon said it was to simulate beating on an undead corpse, but I suspected that it was at least partly to test our stomachs. I almost ended up needing a new lunch after axe practice, if you catch my downwash.

Chopping mock-timberwolves to pieces was fun, though. Breaking things can actually be pretty satisfying when you do it on purpose.

Turns out wings are surprisingly good for chopping! Especially if you twist the right way to throw your weight into it. I wouldn't have wanted to use wing-axes while flying, though I’ve heard it can look really impressive to hack a log in two with a high-speed twirl.

|/- — -|/

“Blech,” I said after cleaving through my last pig’s neck for the day. “Picking the twigs and gore outta my wings is gonna be just offal.”

“You're telling me,” Goldie replied, setting down the axe she’d held in her magic. “You’ve got to have real guts to be in this line of work.”

“Not to be a stick in the mud,” Steely chimed in as he spat out his mouth-axe and bent down to unfasten the axes from his hooves, “but those puns were in terrible –” he paused to smirk up at Goldie “– taste.”

I rolled my eyes (out-of-sync), but smiled anyway. Goldie saw my face and released the laugh she’d been holding prisoner.

“Anyhow, Derps,” Goldie said as she started making her way to the showers, “I’d be glad to help you get cleaned up if you’d return the favor.” She cast a distasteful glance at her coat, which was only mostly free of debris. “I’m sure Steely would take you up on the offer if you asked him, but it's probably best not to encourage him.” She stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“Refusin’ would just be rude. Momma would have you know, sis, that it's terrible impolite to tell a lady in distress that you can't be asked to help.”

It was clearly the time for a change of subject, before either one could comment on my growing blush.

“So,” I said, “speaking of offal, where do ya figure Bon Bon got her hooves on all those dead pigs?”

Golden Gleam jumped in without breaking stride. “Butchers. They mostly cater to gryphons and minotaurs in the more metropolitan cities, but they can't always sell off all their stock, so you can get stuff cheap if ya ain’t too concerned about freshness.”

My smile curdled a little at that last thought. “But why would you want to buy rotten meat? I mean, I used to eat a lot of fish back in my racing days. Still do sometimes, for old slimes’ sake. But—”

“There's a difference between ‘not fresh’ and ‘rotten’,” Goldie interjected, “and the space between those is called ‘jerky’. It's not the tastiest thing I’ve ever had to eat but, pound-for-pound, it's way more energy-dense than any grain you’d care to name, and lasts about as long. That's what army logistics cares about.”

Steely snickered. “Sis, you're such an egghead.”

“Says the colt who would stay up all night playing with his chemistry set, trying to make it explode,” she shot back.

“Hey, I only did that four times!”

“Right. Because after that, the EUP recruiter gave you some real toys to work with.”

|/-HHH Campus: Parade Grounds-|/

“Now that you're all cleaned up, it’s time to get dirty again. Me, Steely Hoof, Golden Gleam, and Thunderhead are going to work on our tribal magic for the rest of today. Thunderhead, you're in the clouds over there. Golden Gleam, you're starting in the library. Steely Hoof, I’ll meet you on the buckball court. Now hop to it!”

My fellow rookies saluted and trotted off.

“You, though,” Bon Bon continued, “are going to get right to work with your specialist.”

An emerald-green pegasus mare chose that instant to come in for an earth-shaking landing in front of us. “Derpy,” Bon Bon said as she gestured at the chartreuse-maned newcomer, “meet Special Agent Lucky of Their Royal Highnesses’ Secret Service. She’s here to help you get control over your entropy magic. Lucky, this is Derpy Hooves, the recruit I mentioned who killed a vampire with nothing but hoof, wing, and some self-made luck.”

The goliath green pegasus – she was about the size of Big Macintosh – grinned sweetly as she stepped forward for a hoofbump of greeting. But then she tripped over a loose stone that I could swear wasn't there a second ago, sending my poor, running-abused body crashing to the earth beneath her bulk.

And then, in a voice so improbably squeaky it made Pinkie's sound like a contralto, she said “Um, hi!”

Bon Bon smirked and said “Okay you two. Try not to do too much damage to Triple H Campus while I’m gone,” and walked off to where Steely Hoof was having an animated discussion with the earth magic trainer.

“So,” I said as I squeezed out from under her, “you're here to teach me how to control my tragic so I don't clobber my own team?”

“Yup!” she said in her impossibly squeaky voice while standing back up. “With my help, you’ll be flattening enemies instead of coworkers in no time.”

We took a couple seconds to dust ourselves off.

“Maybe now that we’ve gotten first impressions taken care of,” she lazily kicked the offending rock away, “you could show me around campus? I haven’t seen this place before, and I need to know where to go to sort you out.”

|/-HHH Campus: Park-|/

“For such a new facility, this place really has nice trees,” Lucky said as she strode ahead. Have you ever tried to keep pace with a bigger pony? I’m pretty sure I was getting almost as good a workout as my earth pony teammates on that buckball court out in the distance.

I guess I could have flown, but I didn't trust my luck just then.

“Yeah, the trees are nice. When I asked Crimson Tape about it, he said something about transplants and earth pony magic. He and Bon Bon sure do care about making this place look nice, even if it does feel kinda empty with just the few of us running around it.”

“She did seem pretty proud of it when we spoke. Say, what's that over there?” she squeaked, rubbernecking right into my path.

I’d been moving at a brisk trot to keep up with Lucky's gargantuan stride, and it just happened that her neck was at the perfect height to clothesline me.

Which it did a pretty good job of.

“Derpy? Derpy?” she queried, shaking her head back and forth to find me, and shaking me along with it. “Where’d you go? Are you okay?”

“Here,” I wheezed out. “Up here. A brittle winded. Ditzy. Had blurse.”

'Isn’t she supposed to be helping you control your own magic?’

'Shut up, Shadow.’

She craned her neck enough to see she was wearing me like a scarf, gave me what I thought was a relieved or embarrassed look, and gently lowered me to the ground.

Once she saw I’d gained my hooves again, she said, “Sorry about that. Guess I was a little bit preoccupied. I don't get to spend much time teaching.

“What is that building back there, anyway?”

I turned to look where her massive wing was pointing.

“Pretty sure that’s a gardening shed. For the groundskeepers to take care of the grass and trees and stuff.”

“Huh. That makes sense.”

She turned around the rest of the way and started moseying towards it.

“So, uh,” I said as she drifted around the shed and I pursued, “What kind of stuff do ya do on Their Highnesses’ Secret Surface? Can't say I’ve heard of ya before.”

Lucky snickered. “We wouldn’t be a very good secret service if everypony knew about us, now would we?”

Couldn't really argue with that.

“But it can't be all that different from what you’re used to. Following orders and answering uncomfortable questions, mostly. Usually it's all ‘Go handle this assignment, Lucky’ or 'Where the hay did that cake come from anyway, Lucky?’ or 'Are you finished sabotaging that sensitive surveillance equipment, Lucky?’, to which the answers would be 'Sure thing, boss!’, 'Random windfall I was on my way to deposit in the royal treasury, sir!’, and 'Not certain, but I feel like if I step here…’”

At which point she stepped on an erstwhile empty garden hose with a back hoof, waited half-a-second, and kicked out, soaking me with a blast of high-pressure water to the face.

No way that one was an accident.

“Okay, WHAT THE HAY?!” I shouted and let out a two-hoofed stomp.

“Tripping on me coulda been bad luck. Clotheslining me could have been confusion or clumsiness on either or both our parts. But blasting me in the face with a flipping garden hose?! Why, I’m so mad I could—”

And then I noticed the potted posies arcing swiftly toward her head on a steep trajectory from Ponyville, only to be intercepted by a really high velocity buckball that sent it crashing into a wall. And then the ball bounced into Bon Bon’s goal where she was training with Steely.

I heard the sound of enormous hooves clapping behind me.

I spun back around to stare at the applauding Lucky.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about, Derpy. I’m impressed! Not only did it take a lot of feather-ruffling to trigger a discharge, but look at the results! High-velocity terra cotta, from the next town over. That is some range! Would have given me one horse of a headache, too, if I hadn't been ready for it.”

I cocked my head, flabbergasted. “Ready for it? Wait, that was all on-porpoise? But— But why?”

“Oh yeah. You didn't think that buckball just saved me by chance, did you?” She let out an amused snort. “And yes, that was all on-purpose. I don't like to hurt or embarrass ponies if I can help it, but your file said you don't have conscious control over your entropy magic yet, and it also said that you tend to have discharges when you're upset, so…” She did that adorable lazy hoof kick thing again. “Think you can forgive me? I had to see your magic in action myself if I was going to help you, and it wouldn't have worked if I told you what I was doing…”

I took a few deep breaths in and out, a little anger and chagrin flowing away with each breath. “Well, you’ve seen it now. What do ya think?”

She held out three feathers and started ticking them off. “Three things. I think you have a lot of potential to help your team fight monsters and save lives. I think I have enough of a picture of how your magic works now that with my help and a little training, you’ll be able to control your magic and use it to kick tail. Also,” she said, ticking off the final feather, “I think that we got off on the wrong hoof. Mind if we start over?”

She stepped forward, holding out her hoof for a hoofbump of greeting. “Hi, I’m Lucky, of Their Royal Highnesses’ Secret Service. I’m here to train you how to better use your entropy magic.”

I held up a hoof and returned the bump. “And I’m Derpy Hooves, of Her Highness's Hunters. I’m here to learn to kick monster tail instead of my own.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

In the distance, I could hear Bon Bon forcefully telling Steely Hoof that “lucky bounces” didn't count when there were multiple chaos mages in the area.

“Alright,” Lucky said. “Now that that's sorted out, let's get to work. From what I can tell so far, your magic is partially emotion-based…”

Chapter 8: Early Risers

|/-Hooves Residence, Three Weeks Later-|/

“Dinky! Dinky!” I shouted as I galloped up the path to our door, a silent, shaggy passenger astride my back. It had been a long, hard day of training, but some things are just worth getting excited about.

Apparently my enthusiasm was infectious, because right then the heavy oak door swung open and released a filly torpedo, locked onto my position.

“Oof,” I said as I started to disentangle myself from the filly wrapped around my neck. “Breezy there, Muffin. Momma still has those bruises from training.”

She giggled. “Not from a fight with Mr. Minz’s shop sign?”

“Not this moon, so far.” It felt good that she could joke about my accidents now, rather than their being one more layer of worry on a mind too young for it. “And next time,” I whispered to her, “I plan to win.”

She let out a precious gigglesnort before finally releasing me and raising an equally precious eyebrow. “So, what’s the piñata for?”

“I am glad you asked!” I said before I trotted to a clear patch of dirt in our front yard that was going to be a garden someday, plucked the aforementioned piñata nestled between my wings, and set it on the ground. “To answer your question, I seeded a victim.”

After backing away several steps, I closed my eyes, and concentrated.

‘Anger: Somepony insulting my perfect daughter. Motion: Going for the gold as I race through Cloudsdale. Violence: Throwing my ex off the Canterhorn. Release!’

I opened my eyes, focusing my intent on the piñata in front of me. Actually feeling some energy bubble off was a little relaxing, really.

“Uh, Mom? What are you—”

I shush her with a wing gesture. “Any second now…”

And then a shot put arced through the sky – and through the piñata’s neck – taking its head off in a shower of sugary gore.

I looked back at my Little Muffin, who stared wide-eyed at the candy carnage in dawning comprehension.

Then she looked up at me and said, “Do it again.”

Concentrate. Remember. Feel. Release.

The next shot put went through its barrel like a cannonball, spraying candy and paper maché shrapnel out the other side.

“YOU DID IT! You controlled the magic!”

And then, instead of diving into the pile of sweets like a sensible filly who only has to split a piñata two ways, she tackle-hugged me around the neck, and we both went down in a cascade of tears and laughter.

“I’m so proud of you, Momma.”

“Y’know –” I sniffed as the tears continued to drip down my face “– it’s supposed to be the bomb telling her daughter that.”

That earned a fresh round of giggles from her. “I know,” she said, “but you deserve to hear it, too.”

She let out a whoop as I swung her onto my back. “Come on, Muffin! There’s a tub of blueberry ice cream in there, and it isn’t going to demolish itself. And you’re going to tell me about how your magic lessons with Miss Heartstrings are going.”

“But Mom, the piñata!”

“Oh. Right.”

As we were working on putting the spilled candy into bowls, I saw a set of butter-yellow hooves in the corner of an eye, accompanied by a muffled “Oh dear.”

I turned my head to face her properly, even if one of my eyes had other ideas, and saw two ponies where I only expected one. “Hi Fluttershy! Hi Bulk Biceps! You want some candy?” Bulk, who had been trying to hide behind Fluttershy, noticed that that jig was up and switched to innocently whistling. Badly.

“Is everypony okay?” Fluttershy said. “We were at a field so Bulk could practice his shot puts, when a shot veered off into the neighborhood.” Bulk Biceps winced. “Twice.” He winced again. “We’re sorry. We just don’t know what went wrong.”

And then my perfect little filly started giggling.

“We’re fine,” Dinky said between fits of giggles. “Momma was just showing me a new trick she picked up at work.”

|/-Derpy’s Dreamscape-|/

“I’m proud of you, my host.”

I roared at the biplane I’d caught in my wing, and turned my head from the gingerbread skyscraper I was wrapped around to look at the pony who’d appeared on my left shoulder.

“For what? This isn’t my first kaiju dream you’ve seen.”

Shadow sighed and shook his head. “While I do find it heartening to see you take joy in causing mayhem, I was not talking about your dream.”

His horn glowed as he summoned a moving picture that I’d seen earlier that day: A shot put blowing a paper maché cranium to candy kibble, the colors bright in my black and white dreamscape.

“Congratulations. You have officially graduated from mobile disaster to precision instrument of destruction. Well, precise enough. And just in time, too,” he said, as the summoned scene winked out. “You are about to have a very exciting night.”

I flicked away the gingerbread biplane I’d been holding and turned both eyes on Shadow. “What do you mean? I double- and triple-checked that we didn’t have any night exercises tonight so Dinky and I could celebrate.”

“I mean that just a few minutes ago I felt a pulse of dark magic. A blast of necromantic energies calculated to raise the dead and fill them with hunger.”

My apartment-sized eyes went wide. “Y-ya mean zombie ponies? How do ya know?”

“We don’t have enough time for me to explain that properly. For now, let us just say that it is part of a suite of senses that would be directly available to you, should you ever accept one of my gifts.”

I narrowed my eyes again. “Shadow, I’ll nevah accept your ‘gifts’, and you know it.”

He waggled his horn in a unicorn shrug. “You haven’t yet, and will not now, but perhaps your first real hunt will change your tune.

“It’s time to wake up. Good luck, my host, and happy hunting.”

|/-Hooves Residence-|/

My eyes fluttered open.

I was curled around my beautiful daughter on the couch, with a wing over her back, near a couple of empty ice cream bowls.

She looked so peaceful.

I let out a yawn and got up, careful not to wake her, and carried her off to her bed and tucked her in.

Then I left her a note and took off towards campus, muttering a prayer to Twilight that I’d get to see my little Dinky again.

|/-H.H.H. Campus, outside the Briefing Room-|/

“Good to see you, Derpy,” Bon Bon said as I landed. “I was just about to send Thunderhead to wake you.”

“No –” *YAWN* “– need, Bon Bon. I’ve done more with less sleep,” I replied.

She raised an eyebrow and popped a bonbon from her bags into one of my outstretched wings. “Eat this blitzbon. You’ll crash like a runaway train in about eight hours, but nothing will be able to put you to sleep until then.”

I put the chocolate-coated candy in my mouth and bit down, and then the world exploded.

Being struck by lightning was a familiar feeling. Not really fun, but familiar. My mouth freezing solid was less familiar, and I don’t think I’d had my eyes catch fire at all before.

And then, suddenly, all that ended, and I was more awake and alert than I remember being in my life. I turned my head, expecting to see char on my wings, but found them clean as before.

“Wow,” I said, turning both eyes back to Bon Bon. “Tingly.”

She let out a wry chuckle. “They are that. It’s a shame that I can’t just tone that part down without severely diluting the rest of their effects, but what can you do?”

I shook my head like a dog to try to get rid of some lingering sparkles in my vision, and she motioned to the door. “Come on in, and we’ll start with the briefing. Everypony else is already inside.”

As she slid through the door behind me, she said, “How did you know to come, anyway?”

“Uh, something just told me there was trouble, and I needed ta be here.”

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow again, but said nothing else.

|/-The Open Sky-|/

We armored up before we climbed into a single large chariot pulled by a team of Luna’s Chiropteran Guard (who I’d just known as batponies until Crimson Tape had tactfully corrected me one day). We didn’t want any of our fancy gear to go over the side while we changed, after all.

It was late at night – maybe late enough to be early – but everypony was just as lightning-alert as I was. I wondered if any of my teammates had gotten a taste of Bon Bon’s special candies.

While we’d been suiting up, Bon Bon had given us a review on zombie combat.

“Your basic zombie, what we’ll be almost definitely facing here, has one goal: To feast on the living. Rather than traditional vision, they sense strong concentrations of lifeforce and magic. Since that’s less active when a pony is asleep, they’ll just be milling around aimlessly when we get there. If we were to wait for sun-up, however…”

“We would have a considerably more urgent timetable to work with?” Thunderhead volunteered.

Bon Bon had chuckled at that.

“The main things to remember when fighting zombies are: Never get bogged down, strike with intent, and always go for the head,” she’d said.

“Why is it so important ta go for the bread?” I’d asked, as Golden Gleam helped me with a strap. “Not that I doubt ya at all, but they don’t seem ta use their brains much.”

“Almost like a certain three-legged earth pony I know,” Golden Gleam had said, and then I’d heard the muffled tink of a prosthetic hoof impacting synthetic-fabric-wrapped aluminum.

Bon Bon had rolled her eyes with a small smile before answering me. “I can’t explain everything in detail right now, but it basically comes down to how the magic works. You see, symbols are really important in a lot of magic, especially necromancy. It’s a lot easier for dark magic to control a body if it’s concentrated in the head, the symbolic seat of consciousness and control in a body. Destroy the head, and that magic doesn’t have anything left to hold on to, so it falls apart.

“And even if the magic isn’t tied up in the head, decapitation is a powerful symbol of ending, and actions made with intent have a magic all their own.

“Are there any other questions?”

Most of us had nodded our heads, but Thunderhead had inclined his and asked “So, what’s our plan of attack?”

“I’m glad you asked, Thunderhead. Gleam?” Bon Bon had said. “I’m leaving our tactical disposition to you. Consider this a final exam.”

“Understood, Captain,” she’d replied with a subtle salute, and we’d all gotten back to putting on our armor.

After going through the plan again for the two-zillionth time in my head, I looked back down from the horizon to check on my weapons again. My wings were stronger than my legs, and had caused plenty of havoc on their own over the years, so wing-axes had seemed like the natural choice. Their weight had made flying more awkward at first, and more tiring, but I was getting used to them. I still couldn’t use them in the air, but they were great for hit-and-run galloping.

Still, I hadn’t used them – or any other non-improvised weapon – against a “live” target yet…

We landed on a dirt road surrounded by green hills. At least, I think they were green. It was slightly hard to tell through the visor.

“Okay, boys,” Bon Bon said to the team driving us, “we should be done and ready for exfil in a few hours. We’ll pop a flare to signal.”

As we got out of the chariot, the stallions unstrapped themselves and got out a set of heavily textured playing cards.

“We’re going to be hoofing it from here, team. The zombies are a little ways out, but look alive; we don’t know that nothing along our path is looking to go bump in the night.”

|/-Posey’s Rest Cemetery-|/

“There they are,” Bon Bon said, sliding the binoculars back up her helmet. “Zombies, dead ahead.”

“More like ‘undead ahead’, am I right?” Steely said, earning a nervous chuckle from me and a swift elbow from his sister.

Through the light-amplification enchantment, I could see a sea of corpses shambling directionlessly on the churned-up earth ahead, clear as slightly greenish daylight.

“Alright, everypony,” Golden Gleam said. “This is what we’ve been training for. The time has come…” She flashed a winning grin. “For us to hunt some monsters. You all know the plan, but here are some addenda.

“We have about a hundred zombies out there. This will be a marathon, not a sprint. I want to see efficiency out there, ponies: glides and shallow turns where you can afford them, smooth strokes instead of abrupt chops. If a harrier starts to get tired, they can signal and either Thunderhead or Bon Bon will replace them at the front. By then, there should be a lot fewer zombies to deal with, so I’ll be fine taking up extra overwatch.

“And one more thing: I don’t want to see any fire or lightning directed at the horde or near friendlies. While a zombie will go up like a Hearth’s Warming fire, it will not care for several minutes. In the meantime, your allies will have to deal with either a firestorm or a blazing zombie, and nothing ruins your day quite like a blazing zombie.”

“And I’ll bet it smells like a real peach, too!” Steely chimed in.

His sister stifled a snort of laughter, but I didn’t bother to.

“That is all,” she continued after a couple seconds. “Now get to it!”

With a nod, I took to the air as Steely started a brisk walk towards the milling horde’s other flank.

The cemetery ahead was a wide field dotted with rows of gravestones. In the center was a clot of swaying, muddied colors and churned earth. There was a smell on the wind like the back-alleys of a Manehattan fish-market, but a little mustier. Around me the world was silent, except for the wind in my ears and the flap of my wings.

As I drifted closer, I could see the zombies in greater detail. Their coats were sparse and bleached at best, and gone at worst. Their skin was shriveled and broken, with some of them leaking a purplish miasma from wounds or places where the flesh had rotted away. Their jaws were slack, and their manes were either missing or a little too long. The worst part, though, was their eyes: Huge, milky orbs that seemed to glow in my visor’s light-amplification.

With Steely almost in-position, I adjusted my glide to a dive as I focused on one zombie in particular and how I wanted bad things to happen to them.

‘Alright, Derpy. Don’t feather this up.’

‘You won’t.’

I felt a surge of energy leave me as my forehooves connected with a zombie’s skull from the horde’s outside edge, leaving me a teensy bit dizzy as I bounced back into the sky. The zombie’s head bounced into the sky as well, before crushing another zombie’s skull when it fell to the earth. As I flapped away to earn back lost momentum, I saw several heads turn towards me as they lurched into motion. Perfect.

A few seconds of leisurely flying later, I heard four “thocs”, and then four “kshhCRACKs”. I looked back, and four ex-zombies’ necks now ended in dirty ice spikes and mangled meat. Thunderhead was a good shot with the ice arrows. Notably, there were no-longer any zombies lurching after me.

‘I am so glad Dinky’s not here to see this.

‘If we do our jobs well enough, maybe nobody will have to see things like this.’

‘It is a nice thought, I suppose.’

As I wheeled back around for another run, one eye settled on Steely and Gleam’s half of the operation. Steely was trotting along like he wasn’t being chased by monsters, like he does, while every few seconds a pellet of goldenrod light would zoom, destructively, through one of the three pursuing zombies’ skulls and it would slump to the earth.

‘I’m glad they’re on my side,’ I thought as I got ready to touch down for a ground pass.

‘Indeed. They could be quite destructive if they so chose, given their skillsets.’

I landed in a trot, twisted, and chopped through a rotting neck in an almost-smooth stroke, and leapt back into the air.

And the battle wore on…

|/-A Grassy Knoll Just outside Posey’s Rest Cemetery-|/

There were about twenty-two zombies left in a kinda-tight ball by the time Steely came up to join me on the grass.

“Augh,” he said as he flopped down. “Ah’m gonna be cleanin’ mud and zombie meat outta my prosthetic fer days after tonight.

I tried to stay focused on the battle below, but one eye slid over to his metal leg… which was still as shiny as ever?

“Really?” I said, raising an eyebrow he could maybe see through my visor.

“Nah, you caught me. The folks who put this beauty together enchanted it to repel all sorts of foreign matter. Ah haven’t had to polish it since it was installed, if you can believe it. Still one heck of a conversation starter though, right?”

“Heheh. It is that.”

I brought my focus back to the fight with the zombies.

It was pretty easy to keep track of what Golden Gleam was doing. Between the glow at the tip of her horn – the aluminum sheathing blocked the rest of it – and the bright light her constructs were made out of, it was a little hard to look anywhere else.

A pellet of light shot through another zombie’s skull, draping the zombie over the tombstone it had been clambering across. Then a needle-thin spike of goldenrod light shot out of the ground, right before a zombie’s fall after a roundhorse kick from Bon Bon took the spike right through its head.

“Your sistah’s magic is kinda scary, isn’t it,” I said to the stallion next to me. “I mean, she’s quaking down things that used ta be ponies from across the cemetery.”

“Heh. Speakin’ as a younger brother, Goldie’s fought dirty ever since I got too big ta keep down by main strength. She knows how to press an advantage, and right now her big one is range.

“I wouldn’t call her magic ‘scary’, though,” he said, bringing a hoof up to his armored muzzle. “No scarier than anythin’ else the team can do. Less, really.

“Ya know why I say that?” he asked, cocking his head so I could see his eyes through his visor.

I shook my head.

“Because,” he continued, “no power, no weapon, is half as important as who is behind it. And the mare behind that magic? Ah trust her more than I trust myself.

“After all –” he twirled his prosthetic hoof “– it weren’t her who lost me mah leg.”

“I guess that makes sense, when ya put it that way. Sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be. If ah knew somepony of her talents wanted me dead, I’d be scared ta wake up in the mornin’ myself.”

I looked back out at the graves, and the mare dancing around them.

Bon Bon was surrounded by four zombies, each of which was rearing up to slam their forehooves into her. But then a golden dome popped over her, and that same instant a hail of arrows peppered the surrounding foes. The jagged ice that sprang from the arrows shredded what was left of the zombies’ muscles, and little clouds of purple miasma puffed out of each one as it stopped moving.

Thunderhead must have used up the rest of his ice arrows in that last volley, because he stopped shooting and started flying around. Maybe he was scouting for openings?

“This fight took a lot outta me. How do you all keep going?” I said as I watched Bon Bon come out of a tumble and strike another zombie in the head.

“The cheap answer is ‘earth pony stamina’ or, in Goldie’s case, the mana battery gems in her armor, but that on its own will only get a pony so far.” He shook his head. “Nah. Endurance training is the biggest ‘how’. Goldie, Bon Bon, and I have been doin’ it fer years. Keep it up for a coupl’a more moons and you’ll be hangin’ in with the rest of us.”

“I guess that’d probably work. It doesn’t whelp that I’ve been shunning low on my magic for maybe the first time since my cutie mark shame in. Heh. I even used a good chunk of it earlier tonight showin’ off for my daughter.

Bon Bon leapt off of a collapsing zombie’s back and onto a series of hard-light steps. Maybe in preparation to jump on another skull?

That drew one of my eyes up to Thunderhead, who seemed to be holding something in his hooves…

“Not gonna lie, Derps: That right there sounds down-right prec—”

“Oh no,” I interrupted, “Is Blundershed mooing blood I brink he’s—?!”

*Krak-a-THOOM*

Once the world came back from the black of my visor’s flash-guard tint, I saw about onety zombies blazing merrily. And still lurching towards my teammates.

I rocketed into the air. Or I tried to, but Steely had chomped down on my tail.

I saw Thunderhead hovering above them, wisps of cloud evaporating from between his hooves. Bon Bon was leaping off of Golden Gleam’s sublimating stairs and away from the shambling inferno.

“Lead me go! I bleed to help them!”

Fires are serious business. I’d, uh, inadvertently initiated several fires over the years. Those were always the most destructive and dangerous accidents. Our armor was fire-resistant, sure, but I didn’t want to test what would happen if the whole field was filled with blazing bodies.

“And what,” Steely said through a mouthful of blonde tail hair, “do ya propose to do about it?! Yer kit ain’t set up to fight fire right now.”

I stopped straining and dropped into a hover. “I could… make a rain cloud?” I gave him a strained, sheepish grin.

He spit out my tail. “Ah don’t think you could do it in time, at least not without a risk of more lightnin’.”

My ears drooped in defeat as I dropped to the ground, though he probably couldn’t see that through the helmet.

“Don’t get too bent outta shape over it, Derps. I just paid attention to everypony’s loadouts. Now pop a bonbon and watch: They’ve got this. Trust me.”

I nodded and turned my attention to the ponies below.

“Gleam!” Bom Bon shouted. “Containment. Left side. I’ve got right.”

As soon as she’d said that, opaque, glowing goldenrod domes sprang up around about half the zombies. The gold-capped tip of Golden Gleam’s aluminum-covered horn was blazing like a flare, and the lines connecting to some of her armor’s embedded gems were glowing too.

Bon Bon vaulted over a tombstone and slung two of her signature candies into the remaining zombies, and then there was an explosion of foam that engulfed them to extinguish the flames. After a few seconds the foam must have hardened, because it stopped stirring around then.

“One-by-one, drop and kick!” she said as she ran up to one of the domes. The dome flickered out of existence, letting out a ball of greasy smoke, and she lined up on the still-smoldering zombie and kicked its head off in a buck that would have made Applejack… well, at least tip her hat in respect.

“See?” Steely said. “Those two have it taken care of. Just between me and you, I think they could have taken care of this li’l uprisin’ all by their lonesome, if they’d wanted to. But then we wouldn’a gotten a chance to put this shiny new gear of ours through its paces, would we.”

“There is that,” I agreed, and I hummed a little to myself in thought. “But there’s also the teamwork thing, too. Thunderhead was really good about taking down the zombies chasing me. I trust him a little more to have my back, after that.”

‘But a little less, after that stunt with the lightning.’

“Yeah,” he said, “there is that, too.”

“And the stuff your sistah and Bon Bon were doing togethah? With the flips and the platforms and the team attacks? That was downright magical. I wonder if we’ll get ta do any special training on that kind of thing, once this is ovah.”

“That would be pretty neat. I’ve got to admit, I am a mite jealous of mah sister on that front, after tonight. Maybe the two of us could come up with some cool tricks of our own, ta make her jealous for a change?”

“I think –” I let out a massive yawn. “– I think that blitzbon I had earlier is starting to wear off. I’ll have to slink about that later,” I said as my head drifted to the grass.

All the free zombies were down, and Thunderhead had landed in front of Bon Bon. Judging from his lowered head and her curt, cutting gestures at the mound of hardened foam, he was getting a bit of a talking to.

“So whaddaya think, Derps? About this whole monster-huntin’ business.”

I took a moment to think. One of my eyes drifted back to look at my frazzled tail and my, erm, very dirty striking shoes, and the other looked into the distance to where they’d said a town was supposed to be.

“Well, we’re doing good things and keeping ponies safe. And I get ta destroy things without having ponies yell at me for it, so that’s pretty crate.

“Plus, it has better hours than my last job.”

That got a snicker from him.

“Y’know what? Yer all right, Derps.”

“Teehee. Than—”

A shadow flashed across my vision.

“Did you see that?” I said, bolting upright.

“See what?”

‘Yes, I did.’