Coffee and Gunpowder

The glass let out a continuous puff of steam out from the top of it as Jace sprayed something named ‘whip cream’ on top, putting a sprinkle of cinnamon afterwards. Kaff examined the single glass of coffee on the table. All around them were evidence of their recent work, leaving the kitchen dirtied.

Jace rested her elbows on a counter, pushing a few used utensils behind her. “Ma’s personal touch makes it all the more fancy doesn’t it?”

Indeed it did. Kaff just nodded, and stared in admiration. He hadn’t made that recipe in years, and yet he could remember it like Master West’s schedule.

“Ma would be so happy right now. She’d kiss my cheeks, and I’d feel her little fangs press against me.”

“I’m confident she would.” When Jace showed him the picture of her mother, he thought of it as a bit off, but the smile she had made all else fade. Though not much similarities, considering she was not even Jace’s species, Jace clearly had her eyes. “Any mother would appreciate a daughter like you. They’d rest easy, knowing she’ll be kind to anyone needing help.”

A blush passed over her face. “It’s really nothing, Kaff. You’ve already paid us back by rewriting Ma’s book. Why, I bet Pa will give you one heck of a hug when he knows what you did.”

“I doubt that, but twas a nice thought.” He spared a glance at the clock. “When will open hours begin?”

She shrugged. “Whenever Pa feels like it, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, maintaining a small frown. Now, Kaff knew he had pinpointed one of the store’s weakness. Not knowing what to label the business and varying opening time was a horrible recipe for coffee houses to go under.

Disregard for punctuality was something that needed to be stopped. Perhaps he should take matters to his own hands. Though, what will Holds think? That stallion already had a lust of murder for him, and angering him will only put that vision to reality. If fear was worth a thousand words, Kaff would have had a novel whenever he stood near Holds.

On one hand, Kaff could easily shape this establishment into what coffee houses stride to be. But on the other, if he was to fail, there was no telling where his spine could wind up locating.

A gasp escaped him. You are indecisive, and let the small things cloud your judgement.

Jace shook his shoulder, concerned by Kaff’s silence for the past minute. “You okay, partner? You look paler than an apple four months after picking.”

Kaff pulled himself back to reality, blinking vigorously. “Yes, yes, I’m quite fine. Though, I have to ask some few things...”

_____

With pride, Kaff placed the chalk sign next to the front door, numerous items written in practised calligraphy as ‘Coffee House’ was brightly put on bold. That ought to catch a few eyes. It would suffice for the time being.

Jace changed the rotating sign to ‘open’, letting the newly raised sun shine upon it. “You sure about this? I can just take you to him, and make sure he don’t spit too many cusses at you.”

“One cannot expect life to give handicaps to men who can walk. I will be fine.” He always loved the irony whenever he said that bit of wisdom.

“I ain’t sure if Pa will listen to any of your philosophies, but you can darn try it out.” She gave out a small, worrisome frown as she waved him off. “Just make sure you don’t be looking different from other ponies. Canterlot don’t like no foreigners in their home, especially a Germaneigher missing a hind hoof.”

“Hush, Sales didn’t think awful of me.”

A chortle escaped her, followed by a giggle. “Sales ain’t a normal pony. Now git, I’ve a shop to run!”

Starting his his journey, Kaff couldn’t help but look back for one last time. “Auf Wiedersehen, Jace.” He needn't to say another word as his day finally began.

Needless to say, the scenery was enjoyable. This time, there were more ponies to pave the streets. A few carriages were even present to louden the morning, the wheels ever going for their masters. It was a paint factory of a city, he admitted. Da Vinci would be inspired to create an entire gallery from a mere glance.

Oh how he wished Berlin was this rich when he was of residence. His life would not know of what dullness meant. To a degree, he had eccentric masters to counteract the lull of his tedium.

In the corner of his eyes, he spotted a few giving their attention. Though, they’d always pretend not to notice whenever he looked back. Not uncommon for locals to be afraid of outsiders. When he first came to Britain, the local neighborhood wouldn’t give much of thought when he passed. However, the children had naught to do, so it was always the little ones to be staring and tugging his overcoat, asking so innocent questions.

“Where are you from, Mister?”

“Who’s the king there?”

“Do they have horses?”

“Why are you here?”

“Could you spare a coin?” Some queries were more common than others, however.

“You look funny, Mister!” And there it was.

Kaff swiveled backwards. It was a foal running towards him with hurry, barely old enough to reach Kaff’s waist in height. No wings were present on his back, just the blue fur blowing against the wind as he galloped closer and the messy hair atop his head.

Faces weren’t seen till masks were opened, he noted. Still, the foal held a smile that reached into his heart, pushing him to move the dubiousness aside.

“Where’s about do you come from?” All this foal needed was a touch of powder, and he’d have none to differentiate from the common scamp. Though, the foal’s pronunciations were a bit off from the British’s norm. It was more… casual, for a lack of a better term.

“I cometh from Prussia, humble child.” He peered down at the foal, keeping an eye as he continued his stroll. “To whom am I having the pleasure to greet?”

“Daily Words, Mister Funny Trot.” With swift, he circled around Kaff, showing the energy that children never seem to run out of. He stopped right at Kaff’s path, effectively stopping him in place. “An awful long way from Germaneigh to visit Canterlot, don’t you think, Mister?”

“Twas not a matter of choice, twas predicament that brought me here.” Daily took in a mouthful of air, readying for a long stream of words, but Kaff cut it short. “Tis of personal matter that I wish none to know.”

“Okay, fine…, Mister…?”

“Kaff. Though, it’s not the name mother gave. So, let the past be.” He extended his arm for proper introduction, realizing too late that the gesture might not be appropriate for ponies. Nevertheless, Daily took it with gusto, shaking it with all the energy he could muster.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Kaff! It’s the dog’s bollocks!”

He spared Daily a quick stare. The choice of words being too real for his comfort. Daily had the slang to show, but the accent was more or less absent. “Yes, quite wonderful for us to cross paths.” He resumed to make his way, letting Daily keep his hoof as he moved onwards. “You may let go, if you wish.”

“Nu-uh! I need to more about you before I let even an inch of your hoof go!”

Kaff quickly checked his sides for missing items, which there were none to begin with. “Fine, fine, I will permit you minor information, but no such else.” He pulled Daily closer as he pushed onwards. “I am twenty years of age, serving nobles is my way of living, Prussia is my place of birth, and I love that country more than what is considered to be healthy.”

Daily pulled out a pad of notes from his saddlebags, jotting down Kaff’s information word from word with the strange, wooden quill in his mouth.

Kaff entered a rather deserted street. The carriages continued bustling behind him as he moved through the ghost side of the city. Was that one stallion pointing a knife at him? Nevermind that. Just look ahead, and don’t meet anyone’s eyes...

“How come—“ he started, quickly hushed by a panic-filled Kaff.

“Sush, I gave you the amount I had promised exactly.” Daily still clung to him as he doubled his pace, the streets becoming ever paler after each blink.

“Aww, come on, Mister! You can cough out more than that, I know you can!” he argued by halting his legs, considerably diminishing their speed. This was not the time.

Kaff could hear many hoof steps nearing, and shouts a bellowing. He didn’t take the chance to look to know what these ponies’ intentions were.

“Fine! Just dash with me to edge of this horrid place!” Perhaps shouting was not a good idea for the moment. Attention should be less on them for his liking, considering that metal-unsheathing was the only sound other than hoof steps. Thank heavens for that broom being sturdy. Otherwise, he could only hobble away from his current position.

“How did you wind up in Canterlot?” Oh, it had to be the question hardest to lie about first, didn’t it?

Putting his imagination to good use, he began funneling ideas. “I washed ashore from a sunken ship!” He turned to another street, greeted by more unpleasant looking fellows. He doubled back with haste and three more on his tail.

“Why were you on that ship?” Daily began moving past him, being the one to start dragging others around. Though, the roads he chose became denser by each corner they took.

“Military reasons.” Even if the choices Daily made were less than stellar, Kaff let him took the lead. There were only so much he could juggle before losing his composure. Fair timing as well. The streets started to become dense with stacks of litter and debris.

Kaff wheezed as his one good leg landed from a jump over a fallen street sign. A rancidly awful and foul smell welcomed itself inside his nose. He quenched a spew of breakfast back down his throat.

“Be more specific, Mister Kaff!”

He swore that a dart had whizzed past his face when glanced backwards. To his left, a storefront set free a million shards of glass. It didn’t take much for him to put two and two together. Lucky timing was always appreciated.

“We were heading to a new land for an expedition, but was intercepted by a larger flotilla!” After pivoting into a rather poorly lit street, Kaff began leading again when a long chain of sizable stores began popping into view.

“What army did you work for? I thought you said serving nobles is what you do.” Despite the intensity, Daily kept on writing his notes, either uncaring or unfeeling for their well being. Though once he looked back, the pad and strange quill were hastily thrown back into his saddlebags, as if only now coming to understand the magnitude of the situation.

“The army I work for, I cannot tell you. Please understand that it is confidential and out of my rights to disclose. All I can say is that the army was privately funded for an expedition.” An open door presented itself on their path. If anyone up there is listening, let there be a door in the back of this building. Please. He took a turn into a large store. “I wound up in the army because of familial reasons. Grandfather wanted me to enlist, else I lose family ties altogether.”

It took no time for the door to be slammed closed into one of the chasers’ face. Unfortunately, so did reopening it. The act seemed to only further their drive to catch Kaff, evident by the colorful vocabulary thrown throughout the building.

At the end of the hallway was a large wall mirror, looking rickety from a distance. They quickly closed the gap between them and the mirror. With a quick burst of adrenaline, he began heaving it down, Daily doing his best to help. When the mirror finally started to loosen its grip on the building, Kaff pulled Daily’s hoof, and continued their flee.

Crack!

Here was to hoping one of the chasers would hesitate, and fall into the sea of fractured reflections, resulting in a pileup of confused and bleeding chasers. That idea was generous when including hooves into the equation.

“Bloody Luna’s fairy dust, that hurts like mother’s nick on a Tuesday!” echoed through the abandoned structure. Kaff uttered a quick thanks to nobody in particular.

“Where did you wash up on, Mister Kaff?”

Through gritted teeth and suppressed curses, Kaff answered, “Trottingham! Please, I promise to answer more, just not at the current moment!” Luck was starting to run out. There were naught, but a staircase on their path of escape.

Kaff was not keen on jumping from a the second floor, but options were limited. So, to Hell with common sense. He will jump into a pit of crocodiles if he had to. The people hounding their tracks weren’t the type to let runners take the easy and painless way out. These ponies were bloodthirsty wolves.

He’ll take his chances with the crocodiles.

The top of the staircase led to a more extensive hallway. Doors lined both sides as a large window barely lit the room through dust-covered panes. He began opening the doors one by one on each side.

The first door; locked.

The second; locked.

The third; no difference.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth row; same as the previous ones.

It was all bleak. From the beads of sweat burning his forehead, to the jittery hooves that ever so desperately scrambled to open doors, their hope was dying.

On the second last door: The seventh, the dusty, golden knob finally turned. He physically couldn’t dart into the room faster than he did. Daily began pacing to the edge of the room, while Kaff opened one of the windows; it creaked of rust.

As the pane opened, dust particles entered his lungs and out the window. With a cough that could cut throats, he looked down as numerous hoofsteps began to echo once again.

His eyes widened as big as inner plates, down below was a pool …filled with crocodiles. Earlier, he may had exaggerated his extent to outrun these ponies, but adrenaline had its effects on quick judgments. There was not a single inch of gap between the building and the pool, it was a still body of water straight down from the window. Damn the architect.

The sound of an object being uncloaked entered Kaff’s ears. “There’s only a single ponnequin here, Mister Kaff!” At first, he wondered what a ponnequin was, until he saw it: A pony version of a mannequin, still as a statue and perfectly his size.

An idea struck him.

With a beaming smile plastered onto his face, he took hold of the ponnequin, and ran out into the hallway. Taking a moment to fill his lungs, he shouted a deafening war cry, before throwing the ponnequin out the window, the glass being no match for the force of the throw. That ought to draw everyone’s attention.

Backing himself inside the room, he closed the door, quietly waving for Daily to come closer. He hid next to the door, he plopped down on the floor, placing Daily’s head at his chest. Kaff hugged him for both their comforts. “Mother save us both,” he whispered under a cold breath.

The floor vibrated as shouts creeped into the room through various nooks and crannies on the wall. Daily hugged Kaff back, freezing and pausing his breath once the stomping came to a halt. Kaff counted his last moments, wondering what it might be like to die twice in the same week.

...

“The daft fuck jumped through that window!” Floorboards from the other room thumped with galloping, and a splash soon followed.

The fool actually jumped.

“I’ve got him! He’s a hard skin for a runner!”

What Kaff could only describe as a blood curdling shriek filled the air, its period lasting only mere seconds. A splurge of vital fluids met with the rusty window next to him, evident by Daily’s sudden jolt.

Even if the fellow had wanted to stab Kaff in the kidney, he still felt horrible to have done a part in his demise, the screams made sure of that. He had done many despicable things in his life, but killing someone he barely knew was a crime most unfortunate. Another reason why he hated the army.

Sure, he may had done a tad bit more than just polishing his masters’ cat o’ nine tails, but those masters taught him that laws sometimes weren’t truly just, for the signature behind them were ill fitting for a country of order, only benefiting the men behind the quill. However, stating that the masters were vigilantes would be overly generous. Kaff scrapped most of their ideologies, but still kept some things close to his heart.

“You boys ain’t getting a single roll of leather from my crocodiles!” Kaff and Daily peeked out the window, seeing a hunched-back stallion tugging what was doubtfully ever a living thing to the side of the pool with a staff. Kaff instinctually covered Daily’s eyes before he could take a closer look, the rips and tears too many for what a single crocodile could possibly accomplish.

Heavens have mercy for that poor fool.

“Don’t you be making me get the hounds do you the same like this here dumb stallion, leaping through my perfectly cam’o-flaged window and breaking my cover!”

The chasers replied only with murmurs, before one had the courage to answer, “Yeah, yeah, we’ll leave your stupid farm. You can keep Hindsight if you want. The bastard’s only good for springing traps anyways.” One by one, Kaff could hear them leaving the scene.

Hiding back in the corner, Daily looked at him with glassy eyes. They had managed to escape only with the assistance of a ponnequin. The chasers never even bothered to check the rooms, they were so distracted. The two just held each other in an embrace, though now it was filled with relieve in the stead of fear. It was soothing, a moment that couldn’t be more easing to their minds.

Perhaps Kaff could survive in this new world after all. Be it with a few friends to help along the way.

____

There it was, the very building where Kaff sought to face Holds in. He half expected it to be something extravagant, though a bricked, four story building still fit the bill. In a way, the roughness of its walls felt right for Holds. Just the brown coloring made it scream ‘only people who eat raw hops may enter’.

“I can’t believe you made that damned turn into Trotinghooves territory.” Yes, it was indeed a stupid mistake, and Daily had every right to underline it. “I’ll make sure you get a map if you survive going in there.”

Perhaps it was the building, but Kaff had second thoughts about going inside. “Perchance, do you know of any unlucky fellows who ahem was not suited to enter?”

“Well… there was that one nutter who thought he could be a stallion named Holds in a game of shots. Fair to say, the tosser got alcohol poisoning and one less tooth in his muzzle.”

Huh, a punch was not that bad.

“Then again, there’s a story about Holds wrestling a bear, and winning it. I think that bear is in a coma or something.”

Well, his hope just flew out the window. “Wish me luck, I may not return with all of my bones intact.” The first step was always the hardest, but least Daily was there to assure him. The feeling of someone’s hoof holding his own was multitudes of comfort. Heavens knew he would be needing the support. If not, high tailing out of there would have been done yesterday fast.

“Break a leg, Mister Kaff!” He let go, and slapped his hindquarters, hard. If Kaff once had the chance to turn back, it had now vanished, for Daily put strength into his hooves, and pushed him straight through the door. Kaff didn’t even resist it, for he was stiff with fear. As the reception was visible, Daily backpedaled without Kaff noticing. “See you on the other side!” the voice muffled by the door.

The mare behind the counter spared him a glance, withholding her attention not long after to view back into the magazine in her hooves. “How can I help you?” she said, her voice very much defining the word nonchalant.

“May I ask if Noholds Barred is present in the building?” He gave a sheepish smile to pair with his dread.

Two eyes looked up to met Kaff’s. “You may.” With a sly grin, she blew a streak of mane from her cheek.

The change of pace from life-threatening to lax was sure to be appreciated, though the adrenaline still made him exhausted. So, the reply took far longer than what normal people took to achieve. “I...—Yes, is Holds in the vicinity?”

Chewing her cheeks, she stared him, before asking with surprise, “You’re that Kaff dude Holds’ been talking about, aren’t you?” She carelessly flopped the magazine on the table, rising from her chair. “Man, I’ve gotta see this! Follow me, Mister K!”

For the upteenth time, someone took his arm, and dragged him to Heavens know where. The numerous doors they passed were rather thick, from what force they hit Kaff with. He’d also be sure to not underestimate women’s speed in dragging men around in the future.

With the final door slamming into his face, a room filled with floor mattresses and metallic exercise equipment came to view. Strange how everything had identical copies next to each other. Wait no, that was just Kaff’s eyes seeing diploidic.

“Hey, Mister Holds, look who’s here!” The mare waved his arm up in the air, boosting his dizziness twofold, same like his vision. There was naught a soul but his own, the mare, and Holds in the training room. The mare made her way to a rack of gloves, leaving Kaff staring at an angered Noholds Barred.

A boom of a smashing blow met Kaff’s ears, the sound coming from a red padded glove hitting a dummy, knocking it to the ground. “Well, looks like someone has the balls to face me!” Holds took the gloves off, throwing them to the side as he made his way to Kaff. “You have something to say, colt?”

His vision may be distorted, but there was no mistaking the large, furious stallion right in his face. It was directly snout to snout. Any closer, and the moment would have been romantic.

“I… have a few matters to inform you of.” Behind him, the mare tossed a pair of those red gloves Holds wore earlier in his direction.

Holds caught the gloves expertly. “If you want to talk with me,” He threw them on Kaff’s chest, emptying his lungs. “you gotta fight for it.”

He needn’t be told what came next. As Holds put his padded gloves back on, Kaff was already on the mat.

It was unfair, to say the least. He wasn’t completely sure, but he betted that Holds wasn’t seeing double at the moment. Kaff had no idea how much longer the impairment would last, but refusing the challenge was no option. Holds would not take no for an answer.

As the two readied themselves, it was clear that size had quite the gap. When on all fours, Kaff stood taller. However, when the two had the same stance, Holds was gargantuan compared to him. Forget losing a tooth. If Holds’ hit connected, Kaff would be deprived of his jaw.

Kaff took deep breaths, putting his weight on his good leg. A click then below him sounded. He looked down to find that mare had attached a professional grade leg to his hoof, casting the surrogate one away.

“Let’s make you have a chance, Mister K! Last five minutes and you can keep it!” If it was any other day, he’d be eager to win himself a new leg, but mind you, he just ran a marathon, got slapped silly by multiple doors, and there was like two of everything.

Final seconds before all Hell broke loose. He stood the same like Holds—in the opposite corners of the mat. His best chance was copying Holds on what to do, and so he raised two arms up in front of him.

Ding, ding, ding. Was it too late to pull out now?

With the speed of a spirited coarser and the hit of a heavy warhorse, Holds was already in arms reach, aiming for a right hook. Barely missing, Kaff dodged it at the last second, his brain lagging behind in processing what was happening.

He tried to move behind Holds so he could take steps backwards. Jabbing Kaff’s ay out, Holds simply took his own retreat, before the punches became too predictable. After a few hits to the air, Holds simply countered Kaff with a cross blow, meeting his shoulder and staggering him rearwards. Kaff was now open.

The first hit collided his gut, but the second was closed off by Kaff’s block. It nauseated him, but he pressed forward to push Holds’ position, gaining success. Holds reared for another hook, but this time Kaff was focused on the push, so it met with the side of his head, spinning him in place.

He centralized his weight, and the spin was over. His advance was now lost to a single hit. Behind Kaff were only two steps to the edge of the mat. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since the bell rang, but he had to make an offensive move. Focusing defense against Holds would only mean bruises to his everything.

Kaff didn’t know any techniques to back him up and his aim was thrown off by the doubling off his perception, but that didn’t stop him from placing hope and energy into his blows. As Holds neared, Kaff feigned a hit from the side, and Holds covered with a block. The real clash came for an uppercut to Holds’ jaw, but Holds had experience, so it never connected with anything.

Holds made a few jabs to his chest, heaving more air out, and pushing Kaff right to the edge of the mat. When Kaff attempted to block, it was already too late, as the barrage was already over.

Screw it all. He was hitting jackshit, so why not make it look like he was actually trying? The next punch would probably his last anyway, so he’ll just have to make it convincing. All that doubt, fear, and anger would be placed into a single blow.

With his left hoof, Kaff feigned another hit, and Holds covered, closing his eyes from anticipation. Kaff pulled back, and heaved for his right hoof to connect, targeting the hook right between the two distorted Holdses in front of him.

Smack.

It smashed right into Holds’ face, making a literal bullseye to his left optic. The blow managed to throw Holds rearing backwards. As Kaff readied himself to continue, Holds fell down on his back.

Not believing the trick, Kaff took large steps behind Holds, making good use of the adrenaline in his system too tighten his stance. But, Holds remained on the ground, and so Kaff stared down on him with eyes that finally focused, as everything finally came back to their singular form.

Holds wasn’t rising back up. His body was laying still. Kaff questioned if he was even breathing at all.

“We have a winner!”