Golden Reign

“I’m sorry…”

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~ Equestria, Moonlight’s Home ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 6:53

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The following morning does little to tame the rain. Seemingly endless tears pour upon Equestria without relenting – the white noise it produces provides a comfortable background while Moonlight and Crimson sit together in the living room and eat breakfast.

They are silent and thoughtful, but still enjoy the warmth of each other’s company. They eat seasoned eggs and greens, a simple plate put together by Moonlight before the man’s next venture out.

Amidst their silent eating, a question Moonlight has been incubating reaches the top of her mind. She chews what is in her mouth and swallows it before looking over to Crimson. “Where did you plan on looking for her today?”

“The only other place I figure she might be. M’sure you’ve heard of it. It’s far west, near Las Pegasus.”

“That is very far west,” she comments with hesitation. “What is this place called?”

“The Slums.”

She lines her brows in thought. “Would that be the ghetto south of the city?”

“The very one.”

“I see. Mm. I’ve never heard it be called that.”

“Strange. That’s all I’ve ever heard it be called. It got another name?”

“It does. It was once called Antha, but after the Great War, it became the Old Antha Ruins. That’s what most scholastic or formal works still call it. I want to say I’m surprised you’ve been there, but… I feel like you’ve been everywhere at this point.”

“Sure feels like it. Been far north, south, east, ‘n west. A little bit of everywhere. Been a witness to matters I can barely wrap my head around. Seen so much, but it feels like so little. Still a lotta land out there I haven’t met.”

“Equestria is a vast and frightening place. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked into what the rest of the world was doing. Do you… do you think maybe, one of these days, you can tell me about the things you did? The things you saw?”

“I, uh…” he gently taps his plate with his fork, stopping himself briefly, “… I suppose I could. Fair warning that a lot of it ain’t pretty.”

“I had a feeling it wasn’t… but I’d still love to hear it, the things you went through while here. Sometimes I forget you’re not from Equestria, so hearing about how you dealt with everything around you is… it’s interesting to me.”

Crimson catches the adorable, unmistakable reddening of her cheeks. He smiles and looks back down at his plate. “… If it means that much to you, then I sure will. Maybe somethin’ I know is useful fer you and your knowledge.” He reaffirms his hold on his fork and stabs the last few greens on his plate, eating them to finish off breakfast. He then reaches for the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice Moonlight made for him and chugs the remainder. He rises onto his feet when finished.

“Oh, um…” He stops and looks back at the mare who indirectly calls for his attention. “I-I’ll take your plate.” Her horn begins to glow, the plate in his hand follows suit. He lets go of it, half expecting it to fall and shatter on the carpet, but it instead floats in her pink hold.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

“You’re welcome, love. Are you going to go look for her now?”

“Yeah, the earlier the better. The trip’s further out, but I’ll still be back by sundown.”

She nods encouragingly, giving him a small smile. She levitates their dishes to the sink and sets them down. She then rises from the couch, looking back at him hopefully. Already reading her mind, the man reaches down and picks her up like a bride. Their faces are close enough for their breathing to be felt. The timid unicorn gives him half-lidded eyes of desire. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darlin’.” He reaches in to give her a loving kiss, which she reciprocates enthusiastically. They break apart sooner than desired. “I’ll be back before you know it. There anythin’ you might want or need while I’m out?”

She ponders his offer for a moment, her eyes looking up at the ceiling. She simpers suddenly and looks back at him. “I want you to think about me while you’re out there.”

“Hmh, I can definitely do that. Be harder to ask me not to~”

She giggles, her blush growing brighter. “You always know what to say.” The man’s lips curl in response. “Please be safe, love.”

He nods once. “You do the same fer me. Please try to keep busy.”

“I will. I-I actually… am going to be making something. Something to help us. It’ll be a surprise.”

“Look at’chu,” he says before leaning in to rub the tip of his nose against hers. “You’re already ahead of the play. Be lookin’ forward to whatever you’ve got cookin’.”

Moonlight closes her eyes and puckers her lips again, almost begging. He does not keep her for long as he dives in to give her one more kiss. He feels her little body shiver when their lips meet. Her coat stands, a rush of dopamine washes over her. Her feelings rub off on him as well, as if a delicate fingernail was gently gliding across his skin.

The kiss breaks reluctantly, then followed by ogling eyes. It takes both of them a moment of staring at each other to be satisfied and finally let go. Crimson sets her back down, both she and him feel the coldness of being apart immediately.

“I’ll be back soon,” he assures once more as he backpedals to the sliding door.

She nods three times quickly, trying to stave off the melancholy the same way she did yesterday. She watches Crimson open the door and step into the storm, quickly becoming wet. He closes it, steps back, and gives Moonlight one more smile. She returns it with just as much heart.

Then her chest flutters, bearing witness to his angelic features burn into reality around him. She feels her whole body quiver, especially something intimate. The angel crouches, bolts into the air, and disappears from sight.

After a few seconds of him being gone does she finally release the breath she did not know she was holding in. She huffs and gets her wind back. She feels embarrassed at herself for such a reaction. She snaps herself back to her surroundings with two harsh blinks. Then, with a self-scolding mindset, she moves herself and the deep blush upon her face upstairs to her room.

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~ Equestria, Dodge Junction ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 6:51

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“That’ll be twelve bits.”

Dahlia nods to the ticket pony who addresses her before looking down at her duster, ignoring the distrustful look of the aforementioned stallion. He bounces his eyes across her bulging saddle bags, the oversized coat, and the boots upon her back as he waits for her to retrieve enough money for her ticket.

Content to be out of the rain, Dahlia retrieves the coin pouch with only mild haste. She unties it, sets it down on the counter, and tips it over, letting some coins spill out. She separates by hoof the amount she needs and slides them through the window slot. Once the payment comes his way, the ticket pony reaches under his desk and pops back up with a yellow ticket. He slides it to Dahlia in return.

“The train’ll be here in about forty minutes, missy,” he states without a shift in tone. “Feel free to take a seat anywhere you like.”

“Thanks,” she acknowledges and does as he recommends. She finds a bench on the opposite end of the staircase, near the end of the platform and mostly away from the ticket booth. She hunkers down with a quiet exhale through her nose. Her half-lidded eyes stick forward, idly watching as the rain comes down upon the dirt and the railroad track.

As much as she tries to relax and keep her mind busy, she can feel the stress actively forming in her back muscles. Tension tightens her chest and jaw. The more time that passes with him gone, the worse she feels.

She saw him escape Horis’ clutches. She saw him very much alive at that moment even if the strike he endured was devastating. Still, she cannot shake the feeling that he is not okay. Far from okay. Suffering, even. There is no telling what his condition is at this moment, and this fact alone is chipping away at her mental integrity.

In an anxiety-fueled panic, she begins to totally rethink her strategy. If he is possibly hurt or dying, sitting in one place will do nothing for everyone. He could need her help, and she was about ready to just sit in one place and wait. She scolds herself for her own stupidity. Her spirit sinks further and further the more complicated and hopeless it all feels. He could be dead for all she knows--

“Ma’am, are you feelin’ well?”

Dahlia jumps lightly, snapping her head to the right. She spots an older stallion sitting two benches away, who she hardly realized had arrived due to her mental purgatory. This elderly stallion is accompanied by a young filly, possibly four or five years of age. She sits in between the legs of her apparent caretaker. Both of them give Dahlia eyes of concern.

A silence muted by the rain runs between them as Dahlia musters up the courage to reply. “… I’m fine, thanks.”

“You look familiar. You from around these parts?”

She shakes her head.

“Mm. Passin’ by?”

She nods.

“Where’re you headed? ‘F you don’t mind my askin’.” Dahlia visibly hesitates to respond. The stallion smiles despondently and continues speaking in order to ease her tension. “Wherever it is, I’m hopin’ you get there safe. ‘M sure you saw that mess back there. Poor ol’ Dodge got raided again. Not sure she’ll ever catch a break.”

Dahlia nods twice, letting him silently know that she is listening.

“… Them Wildmanes were mean. Meaner than they’ve ever been. Good weapons. Good equipment. Not sure where they get it from. Never given us this much trouble before. Lost a lotta good ponies. … ‘F you ask me, didn’t think we’d make it. Only two stallions with any semblance of combat experience got put down early on – the sheriff ‘n the deputy. Everypony else just bent over to Wildmane whim. Folks weren’t so spineless back in my day.”

Dahlia lifts her gaze to him and the little foal he has with him. She and the little one make eye contact for a moment. Dahlia then addresses the elder, “… Was she…?”

He gently strokes the little foal’s orange mane, nodding slowly. “She was. Takin’ her to her auntie’s up near Detrot.”

“… I’m sorry to hear that.”

The older stallion simply nods again. The little foal says nothing, perhaps still too shell-shocked to even speak. The foal does not cry. Only remnants that she was remain on her tinted cheeks and muzzle.

“It was bad,” the stallion continues, “but… could’a been much worse. Got a lucky break. Just when we thought we were food fer the vultures, an angel came outta the mist to save our sorry hides.”

Dahlia’s heart nearly leaps out of her chest. She snaps her dilated eyes to him again, garnering furrowed brows from the stallion.

“Somethin’ the matter, ma’am?”

“You said… an… ‘angel’ helped you?”

“Sure did. Looked like a human. Tall ‘n sturdy, built like an oak. Eyes rich like gold. I was in the general grocer, holdin’ onto my life as close as I could. Nearly keeled over right then ‘n there. Before my weak ol’ heart could give into the stress, somethin’ scared the Wildmanes just as bad as I was. ‘Fore I knew it, that angel was clearin’ the shop of the bad ponies. Think the others scrammed. No signs of ‘em since. Probably too frightened fer a round two. Heck, I’d be too if that’s what I was up against. One might say them Wildmanes were smitten by the wrath of the gods themselves.”

“W-When was this? The raid, I mean.”

“Yesterday, in the early morn’.”

Dahlia’s mental gears churn on overtime. She almost vibrates in her seat, but calm herself down as to not raise suspicion. “That’s… good news. At least. Uh… d-do you know where he went? The angel?”

“Mm. Somewhere east, from what it looked like. Couldn’t be too sure. Was like a ghost. Came ‘n went. Not a word was spoke. Helped himself to groceries, heh. Guess even an angel’s gotta eat. Gotta have his supper. Left enough coins to buy half the merchandise in the store, but only left with a few bags. Least the town grocer ain’t startin’ from scratch.”

Dahlia contemplates this information vigorously. Her eyes dart small distances again and again. She knows what to do. She knows exactly where to go now. But she knows she cannot make herself look so obvious. “East. That’s… interesting. That’s where my cousin lives. I’m… actually going to visit her today,” she explains as she unpockets her ticket and waves it with her hoof.

“Huh, ain’t that a coincidence,” the stallion hums with a lopsided simper, eyeing her ticket for a moment. “Well, if you happen’na see the angel out there durin’ yer visit, tell ‘em from the bottom of my heart: thank you. He did well by us. Saved dozens of lives.”

“… I will,” she smiles at him. The elderly stallion does the same in return. The little foal seems a bit more comfortable due to the conversation, maybe sleepy, as she rests against the older stallion’s chest with drooping eyes.

“Just, eh… ma’am?” the older stallion suddenly starts, drawing Dahlia’s innocent attention again.

“Yes?”

“You’re headed east fer yer cousin there, right?”

Dahlia nods, putting extra curiosity on her expression.

“… Just, erh… wanted to point out that you’ve got yerself a ticket headed west.” He points to her yellow ticket. “Not sure if that was an accident ‘r not.”

Dahlia looks down at the ticket she still holds out. She gasps sharply at it, her eyes expand greatly. “Oh… my goodness…” She glares shocked eyes to the stallion, then back to her ticket. “… I almost totally screwed up my entire day. This is what happens when I don’t have my morning coffee.”

“Hehah,” the older gentlecolt laughs genuinely. “Close call, if I’ve ever seen one. Find myself makin’ mistakes like that all the time these days. I reckon we’ve still got over five minutes till the train east pulls in. Not too late to speak to the ticket master. He’ll swap out yer ticket right-quick.”

“Eheh, yeah. This was… wow. Let me do that.” She climbs off of her seat awkwardly, holding an equally embarrassed smile. As she passes by the stallion, she hums a humble, “Thanks.” He nods once.

She returns to the ticket booth, garnering the bored stallion’s attention once again. “How can I help you, missy?” he asks again through the glass.

“I’d, uh… like to swap out my ticket. I got the wrong one like a dummy…”

“Not a problem. Direction or a train number.”

“East.”

Without further words, he leans down, disappearing under his desk. Once he re-emerges, he puts down a green ticket and four gold coins near the slot. “Ticket to the east station is eight bits. You can off-board and transfer to the major city trains there.” Once finished with his generic spiel, he waits until Dahlia passes her yellow ticket through.

She does so, and the stallion pushes the five items under the glass, including the new blue ticket. Dahlia in turn pushes the four bits back to the stallion. “Thanks for swapping out my ticket.” The stallion’s bored demeanor lifts slightly for surprise. He looks down at the four bits, then back to her. All Dahlia does in return is smile slightly.

With visible content, the stallion sits up and pulls the bits in, pocketing them in his white slacks. “Not a problem, missy. Very kind. Your train’ll be here in about five minutes.”

Dahlia nods and excuses herself silently. She returns to the bench she was sitting at previously. Now with a blue ticket in hoof, she glances at the older stallion again. The little filly seems to be asleep. The stallion himself is humming very softly – his deep timbre doing well to soothe the filly. Once he notices that Dahlia is looking at him, his saggy lips curl for a smile. She shyly returns one of equal measure.

The pattering of the rain somehow feels much more soothing now. Even the air itself feels warmer.

Not long later, the elder stallion throws his chin to Dahlia, prompting her to look at him. He then repeats the gesture, except aimed behind her. She turns to her left and sees a blocky figure coming in from the distance, one that trembles the tracks. “That’s the train headin’ east,” the stallion says. “Reckon it’s fer you.”

A genuine simper comes across her face. The train soon pulls into the station, prompting her to come off her seat. As the train hisses to a halt and the doors open, she looks back at the elder stallion. “… I hope you get to Detrot safe.”

The stallion gives one animated nod. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. Happy trails.”

With that, she hands her blue ticket to the attendant mare and finds her seat in a mostly empty cart. She gets herself comfortable for another several-hour long trip.

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~ Canterlot Castle, The Royal Research Labs ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 7:33

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A rush of anxiety washes over him as he steps into this section of the Castle, one which he has visited seldomly.

“And here are the Royal Research Labs,” Doctor Ivy gestures and speaks at the same time to both Banter and a mare in deep green robes which shroud her.

Banter feels completely out of his element by not only being in the labs, but also by the mare who has yet to speak one word to anyone since she arrived to Canterlot.

“I suppose we can conduct our work in any lab you see fit. Is there any one you prefer?” Ivy hints to the six rooms separated by their respective archways.

The mare under heavy robes and packed saddlebags glances around silently. She begins to suddenly walk towards one of the rooms, the one located to the far right next to the massive centrifuge. Banter and Ivy tail her accordingly.

“Ah,” Ivy comments with a smile, “the Head Researcher’s lab. I couldn’t have picked a better suited room myself.”

The three arrive to the designated laboratory, where the mare is quick to remove her bags from around her waist and set them on a random table. By their harsh ‘pomf’ onto the marble countertop, the bags are as heavy as they look. This by itself intimidates Banter, as the mare appears quite petite under her robes.

The mare opens her bags and begins to assort things all across the table. With the items that she splays out, the science table begins to look more like an alchemist’s bench. Powders, herbs, plastic bottles, and all sorts of miscellaneous objects and set about in an order only she would know. Once everything is set, the first things she does is levitate a small plastic bottle with a clear liquid inside of it towards Banter.

Banter shifts his eyes between the bottle in her blue magic and the mare herself. “… Eerh…”

“What is it, Banter?” Ivy asks with a lifted brow.

“Uh… am I at liberty to ask what that is?”

“It’s water.”

Banter shivers and snaps his attention to the robed mare, who finally speaks. Her voice is slow and harsh. He glares at her, then at the ‘water’ she speaks of. He then glances to Ivy, who gives him a scrutinizing look. “… Eheh, right. Thanks.” He takes the bottle of water with his wing.

“Take this first,” the mare follows up. She levitates two small, yellow, capsule-like ovals to him. Banter acquires them with his left hoof. “I recommend to avoid tasting the tablets.”

Not very encouraged by her demeanor, he looks down at them with skepticism. “… What are they for?”

“They will act as ushers for the serum. The tablets contain multiple enchanted minerals that will increase your metabolic rate. Your body will be more keen on absorbing rather than secreting. Along with a few other minor effects.”

“… Like?”

“You will not notice them. Please proceed to ingest the tablets.”

Banter again receives a rather harsh brow raise from Ivy. The mare is completely emotionless.

With little else on his side, he first swallows the lump in his throat before he attempts to down the tablets. He pops them both into his mouth, halts his breathing, uncaps the bottle of water, and drinks it in its entirety. The tablets flow into his esophagus with little hassle. Once he is finished, they are already on their way down to his stomach. He lines his lips with disgust after. “I can see why you said I shouldn’t taste it. Feels like I stuck two rusted metal studs in my mouth.”

“Your body temperature should increase momentarily,” the mare explains. “Do not panic. It is part of the procedure.”

“Uh, sure… I guess.” Everyone stands idle and quiet for several seconds, waiting for the effect to kick in. Banter feels his stress rising. The anticipation begins to eat at him. “… Hoo,” he hums, now feeling the furnace igniting in his stomach. The heat begins traveling from his gut to the rest of his body, and soon, he feels as if his entire body is sweating profusely. “Huuh, seesh, I… I’m burning up here…”

“Good,” the mare affirms. “Now please hold still.”

“Yeah, sure, I mean-- … huh?” His brows tense when he sees some sort of metal restraint levitate from her saddlebags. It looks like four hoof-cuffs all bound together by a thick chain forming an ‘x.’ “Wo-woah, what the? What is that?” Before he can finish his protest, the mare latches them onto his legs. He tries to move in them. He can shimmy very slightly to move, but natural movement is completely stopped.

“Attempt to break free," the mare commands.

“Wha…? Errh, I… alright. I guess. … Hrrrrrrh!” He strains his legs muscles in an attempt to break the binds. He tries to kick, he tries to stretch, but the metal which restrains him laughs at his attempts. “HRrrrrr!-- Ugh! Huuh… I… I can’t. And it’s so hot right now…”

The mare nods in acknowledgement. “I will now inject your body with the serum. Its effects are immediate. Brace yourself.”

“Woah, I mean— Can’t I just take a breather here? It’s like— It’s so damn hot, I—”

“Banter,” Ivy starts sternly. “Focus. Do as she says and hold still.”

Banter again swallows the tension from his throat. He shuts himself up and glares worriedly at the mare who brings out a syringe with a rather long needle from her bags. Inside of the plastic syringe, a green glowing essence shifts and ungulates inside. She levitates it his way. He can feel her eyes from under the robe. Somehow, he can tell that she is taking some semblance of pleasure in doing this.

The syringe levitates to the base of his neck. She pierces him just above his shoulder bone – the needle seeps in. The twinge of pain causes him to grunt. He can feel the green substance flooding into his body. It feels ice cold, especially in comparison to the burn coming from the tablets he ate. The clashing of feelings is causing him to panic. He tries to hold stiff and strong, until finally the needle comes out from his neck. One small trickle of blood comes from the puncture.

Gritting his teeth, Banter looks to both the mare and Ivy for any sort of helpful words or encouragement. They say nothing, instead they watch him with deep curiosity.

Seemingly nothing happens for a length of time which feels too long Banter.

…

He then catches the mare smile discreetly. His eyes shoot open as a raiding rush of burning pain travels all along his body. “RHG—EYAAAAAAH!” he cries into the air of the lab. His entire body quakes, his eyes are forming tears. He feels as if every single muscle in his body is being torn to shreds. The shackles upon him keep him from scampering and thrashing. “AAAAAAA—GYAAHAAAAA!” His vision becomes blurry from the tears that form. Furthermore, they become unfocused from the pain… and from something else. He feels as if his eyeballs weigh five pounds each. “AH—HRAAAHAAAAA! AAAAAAAH” He feels terribly confused. His mind starts to cloud up, as if something was spit-shining his brain and making him forget where he is and what he was doing. “UrhHah—Aaaah?”

Both Ivy and the mare grin.

“Hehr—Uuh…”

Soon, Banter’s suffering comes to a close. What is left is a stallion who is panting heavily and barely able to stand up. He trembles, feeling like an overinflated balloon.

“Banter,” Ivy calls commandingly.

“Huh!” the stallion shivers from being startled. He is snapped back to reality by the doctor’s voice, his legs splay out in a combat stance. A loud metallic shattering sound comes from his restraints as they are effortlessly, and accidentally, broken from the chain due to his pose. “Wha…?”

Both Ivy and the mare share a glance and exchange grins. They refocus on their subject, with the doctor speaking up, “How do you feel, Captain Banter?”

“I… I…” He soon reacclimatizes to his surroundings, remembering where he is and what he is doing. He looks at Ivy and the mare, terribly confused. “… Why… why are you two so short all of a sudden?”

“Are we?” Ivy smirks.

“I… I dunno…” He starts looking around, finding everything to be smaller than it was just a moment ago. Not only this, but he feels like his eyes are zooming into every detail of every object that surrounds him. He can hear the weak draft of the labs – the whirling centrifuge outside is suddenly louder and its resonating sound waves can be dissected by his ears. He then looks down at himself, becoming completely confounded at what he sees. The clothes he wears are stretched to their limit, barely able to keep inside his newly created musculature and size. He huffs out a breath of disbelief. He looks at Ivy and the mare again with his befuddled expression. “I-- ... why do I feel… incredible?”

“The administration was successful,” the mare says, looking towards the table again. “I will now provide additional supplements to stabilize your body and magic. Please fill the water bottle with more water if needed.”

Banter looks to the plastic bottle he dropped on the ground, then again to the mare. His disconcert remains visible. “… Yes, ma’am.”
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~ Equestria, The Passenger Train ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 10:21

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The trip on the trains felt essentially skipped as Dahlia struggled to stay awake for each one, eventually falling asleep with her head against the windows. The news of the angel’s appearance and good deed filled her spirit with enough comfort to help her make up for the sleep she failed to get the night before.

Now as she comes to for a second time, she notes that the silver city of Baltimare is already upon the horizon.

A quick examination of the cart shows that quite a number of other ponies have boarded the transfer train after her. The cart is almost full, yet practically no one speaks, leaving the ambience of the cart quiet and comfortable against the rain. She banishes her sleepiness with the rapid, harsh blinking of her eyes. She focuses on the city coming closer and closer.

In a few short minutes does the cart attendant make her entrance and announces that their stop is near. The train begins to screech over the tracks until it comes to a halt. The attendant positions herself near the door and opens it for disembarkment, offering words of caution as to not slip on the way out.

Dahlia waits for the masses to flood out of the cart first before rising. She trickles out with the remainder of the passengers and trots off in the opposite direction of the crowds. As the other ponies move to the north exit of the station, she takes the south. Ensuring she is not followed or no one is eyeing her, she comes off the platform and trots out to the city limits.

She becomes drenched from the downpour. The hustle and bustle of the city dies down the further she gets. Once outside of the city, the primly paved concrete streets fade out to wet dirt. The sounds of precipitating nature overtake what was previously pony-made. She continues down along the unmarked dirt road south until she bumps into her locale of interest.

On this path, she begins to remember how easy it is to miss despite doing this before. With plenty of forestry blocking off all view except the beach to the east, she thinks she might have missed it already. The mist of the never-ending rain also does not help her cause. Still, she perseveres. She holds her head low and keeps trotting until she hopefully bumps into it.

After enough overthinking and resisting the urge to double back on herself, she spots the beginning of a clearing amidst the trees. Over a mile and a half of hasty walking finally puts her where she wants to be. A smile grows upon her face when a modest blue house comes into view past the forestry. She kicks into a faster trot to arrive sooner.

She slows down to carefully approach the front door. Not wanting to kiss the shield, she sticks her hoof out in anticipation. It wobbles, like penetrating jelly, and her hoof phases right through. She sighs some relief and proceeds to open the door quietly. She shuts it just as gently once she enters.

The immediate satisfaction of warm air conditioning banishing the cold humidity relieves her further. She cleans her muddy hooves on the coarse welcome mat before unloading everything off of her body at the entrance. The back of her mind has worry that if Crimson is here, the first thing he will do is scold her for tracking water into the house. She sets out his duster on a rack near the door, letting it drip on the tile. She sets her bags, his boots, and his belt next to it. Since the duster blocked practically all of the rain, her shirt is completely dry. She is happy to leave it on. She begins to cautiously explore the seemingly empty home.

She first walks steadily to the living room and kitchen, quickly finding out that there is no one present and nothing appears dirty or disturbed. Slightly disheartened, she moves to the sliding door and peeks past the glass to examine the backyard. Still no one.

Her heart drops a bit further. She turns and moves towards the staircase. Once upstairs, the only thing she hears is the repeated gentle beeps of the ANA device through the closed bedroom door.

She decides to first check the bathroom, pushing the already opened door all the way in. She did not anticipate him to be in here, considering the light is off, but she felt the need to check anyway. While still disappointed, she spots something curious. She sees a bucket full of a fluid she does not recognize. It also has something like a gardening tool inside of it, soaking into the mysterious watery red substance. She knows for a fact that this bucket was not there before. Her caution heightens.

She carefully exits the restroom and makes a quiet pace to the bedroom door. Now that she is right before it, she notices that it is not actually closed, but almost. There is no gap to peek through. She leans in to press her head against it… and she hears something. At first, it is faint. Some sort of repeated metal on metal dings, like a small tool being used to work on a tiny piece. She cannot be sure if its simply the ANA making these noises, until slightly louder rhythmic tapping occurs. Her eyes widen. Someone is definitely inside, possibly using their hands to fix or make something.

Her heart skips a beat, her excitement gets the better of her. With clenched teeth and hopeful eyes, she pushes in the door and exclaims, “Crimson!”

“Wuh!?”

“Huh!?”

Two mares gawk dilated pupils at one another, frozen in a staring contest where neither of them blink for a good five seconds.

...

"WAAaAAAH!" Moonlight screams out in horror, almost falling off of her desk chair.

“GYAAAAAH!” Dahlia cries in return, almost tripping on her tail.

“Wh-Wh-Who are you!?” Moonlight desperately interrogates.

Dahlia finds herself frozen. She ogles the easy-blue unicorn, quickly digesting who she is and what is happening. She can hardly believe it. She does not want to believe it. The mare she has only heard of and seen through magical means is finally in front of her. Barely now does she internalize a simple truth: she completely failed to consider that this is indeed her home, and she recently had a very traumatic experience. The probability of Moonlight being here is so high that she feels like hitting herself for letting it slip her mind.

Now Dahlia stands here, invading a stranger’s home with the owner at the forefront of the probing. She swallows the lump in her throat to try and find a non-confrontational way out of this.

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~ Equestria, the Skies Above ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 10:47

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The are many things he contemplates while high above the world, feeling as free as the animals who live their lives in flight. Something that astonishes him is how incredibly natural flying feels to him. It is as if he was simply running. After running for so long, one’s legs somewhat move on their own – the repeated muscle memory keeps them in motion. The same appears to be the case for his ethereal wings of hard light.

But what awes him the most is, unlike running, he does not feel tired or strained in any way. Not like the last time he flew from Las Pegasus to the midlands. That was torture. This, however, feels comfortable and passive. He feels as if he could fly literally forever. Such a minor tune to his internal gears, the ‘fuel’ which his nemesis spoke of truly is what he was missing all along.

He knows its source, even if he did not divulge it to Lillian. Finally being able to let go of his grudge, letting bygones be bygones. He cannot be sure what ‘class’ of Arch in him is digesting this fuel. For all he knows it could one, or all of them. Based on what Lillian said, it is likely not the latter. He finds that he still knows very little about his gift despite this experience.

Nevertheless, if he could go back in time, no matter how hard a pill it is to swallow, he would use his Arch to kill Michael. He would use his Arch in general. Vigil was right all along, and he knew it from the start. In some ways, this gift is a curse. A good excuse for his family to be singled out for the tragedy and suffering they had to endure. But in that same way, it was a tool. An advantage. A step-up from adversity that would allow him to triumph over the unfair toils dawned upon his lineage. He has no words to describe how much he hates himself.

All that is left now is to make it work. To make amends. He holds that it is not too late to help Equestria, despite what Lillian said. He will try his heart out to save the world he inadvertently damned. He tries not to burden himself with this fact. He instead redirects these feelings against Fate. The prospect of his own penance does well to stoke his fire. He will make sure to keep this world from falling asunder, if not to save the ones he cares for, then to spite her.

Now, he eyes the cloud of smog which condenses over the ruined city. The Slums comes into his approach, and soon he is in the skies directly above it.

He halts his speed to hover above it. His front is focused, stern, as he tries to orient himself from high above. Luckily for him the storm has not traveled this far west, if it ever will. It seems as if this section of Equestria is impervious to rain. He will not count on it, and instead act with haste to look for Dahlia.

He curses the fact that the smog effectively blocks out any structures or forms under it, making it impossible to see the district in which the motel lies. He surmises that he will need to ground himself and follow the dusty trail. Accepting this as his course of action, he takes in a breath and stiffens his wings. He falls into the dense blackened cloud, disappearing into the ruins.

‎

‎

‎

~ Equestria, Moonlight’s Home ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 10:47

‎

“Y-You’re… Moonlight, right?”

“Eep!” she squeals, shutting her eyes and holding her head between her hooves. Her shivering is uncontrollable. “H-How do you know my name!?”

By now, Dahlia has mostly composed herself. She uses this clarity to take in the scene before her. She feels like Moonlight is so scared right now she might have a heart attack. She speaks softly and slowly as to not perturb her further. “I… um… I think you might… know my name too.”

The trembling unicorn opens one eye to look at her. It glazes her up and down in its fearful state.

“My, uh… my name's--"

“D-D…”

The tan pegasus halts herself immediately. Her pupils shrink when the correct phonetic begins.

“D-Dah… Dahlia?”

Her chest feels like a wound-up spring, calling her to shout everything on her mind at once. Yet, all that comes out as a reply is, “… Y… Yeah.”

Moonlight does not respond immediately, instead the two bask in silence, simply staring at one another. The blue unicorn steadily begins to pick up the shambles of her composure. The shivers come to an end. She reaches to adjust her glasses and blink twice, almost if trying to banish the visage that stands before her.

“… You’re… D-Dahlia.”

The pegasus nods twice.

“… You… you thought… Crimson was in here?”

A pang in her stomach causes her to stutter. “Yrh-- … Yeah. I thought he… was. I’m, uh… I’m sorry for barging in like that. And for breaking into your house. I--”

“Dahlia…” she says the name again, almost as if trying to interpret the word. This causes the pegasus herself to become confused and step into further awkwardness. “… You’re… looking for Crimson?”

“… I’m trying to.”

“… He’s trying to look for you too.”

“He is!?” Her voice elevates and she almost darts at Moonlight. Seeing as this startled the unicorn quite badly, she takes a step back and clears her throat. “I-I’m sorry, I-- … He’s looking for me?”

Moonlight tries to ease her nerves again and nods quickly. “H-He left… a few hours ago… to look for you.”

As she digests this information, a very obvious tint comes upon her cheeks. Moonlight reaches to adjust her glasses again, visibly noticing this. “… So he’s… here? With you?”

Moonlight nods again. “He found me here a few days ago… I think he came here to find you… just like you did for him.”

The skepticism in her voice calls for an immediate explanation in Dahlia’s mind. “Y-Yeah, I… it’s a long story, but… we kinda-- … we kinda used your house as a hideaway. J-Just for a day, it wasn’t long. There was nopony here, and so we… y’know…”

Moonlight does not take her gaze away from the pegasus who tries to elaborate on her actions. It almost seems like she is not listening with how intently she stares. “… Thank you for your honesty. Nothing was broken or missing, s-so… I think it’s okay that you stayed here.”

Surprise fails to describe Dahlia’s emotions. Utterly stumped, her brain works twice as hard to speak in return. “T… Thanks. I, uh… we. We appreciate that. You’re… really not mad? That we broke into your house?”

“I-If I was here, I would have invited you in anyway, so… there’s no reason for me to be upset.”

Dahlia accepts this even if she does not quite understand why she is being so kind. Again, they regress into simply ogling each other. It ends when Dahlia advocates a burning thought. “… Y’know… you’re nothing like I imagined you’d be. No offense intended.”

“N-None taken. … But… if I may ask… what did you think I was like?”

“Well, it’s… I dunno. A lot of different stuff, I guess. Much of it isn’t very nice.” Moonlight looks down at her own hooves, then to the project she was working on. Dahlia follows her gaze and looks at it as well. Small pieces of metal, screws, washers and such, all liter the table where the ANA sits. It looks like… “… Are you… making a watch?”

“Oh, um… y-yes. I am. It’s for Crimson, he…” She trials off, looking back down at her hooves. “… It’s… a long story.”

Dahlia raises her left brow, finding an interesting parallel. “… Umm… do you know when Crimson’ll be back?”

“Before sundown. M-Maybe a little sooner.”

“Hm. That’s… a few hours from now. Is it… is it cool with you if I wait here for him…? … And stuff?”

Moonlight looks up at her again, nodding twice. “T-That’s completely fine. I was… um… I was actually going to ask you… i-if you wanted… something to drink?” Dahlia’s ears perk up, a physical gesture which encourages Moonlight. “… D-Do you like coffee? Orange juice, maybe? A glass of water?”

Dahlia swallows a lump in her throat, almost not understanding the hostess nature being displayed. “… C… Coffee?”

Moonlight nods happily.

‎

~<

‎

Dahlia now finds herself sitting on the two cushion couch downstairs, looking through the sliding glass door at the rainfall. The scent of brewing coffee fills the room as Moonlight drips boiling water over coffee beans which she grinded herself. She uses her magic to hold the filter and the water pot. A small smile rests on her front as the smell wafts her way.

Soon, two mugs of coffee are poured. Moonlight looks over to the musing pegasus from the kitchen and asks, “Would you like sugar?”

“Uuh,” she snaps back to reality, looking back at her, “… sure. Thanks.” Even though Moonlight accepts the appreciative words, Dahlia feels a sour taste in her mouth. She lines her lips, almost blurting, “Thank you.”

Moonlight pauses briefly to look at her. Once she understands why she said it again, this time appropriately and formally, she smiles genuinely. She puts together that perhaps this pegasus is not too socially equipped. She finds it reminiscent of herself. “You’re welcome~” she replies sweetly. “Two spoons?”

“Three… please.”

Moonlight obliges and opens a hanging cabinet to retrieve the proposed sugar. She does the same from a drawer next to the sink to obtain a spoon. She adds the requested amount of sweetness to both her own and Dahlia’s cup before putting everything away and moving to the living room, mugs in her twinkling aura. She sets both down on the coffee table, one in front of Dahlia, and one in front of the center cushion of the large couch. She takes a seat right after.

Dahlia takes her mug and holds it near her stomach, watching the steam gently rising from the dark liquid. “… It’s been a while since I’ve had coffee.”

“Same for me. Crimson actually brought these beans yesterday. Good timing, I think. … I used to drink coffee almost every morning before school.”

“Dude, same!” Dahlia announces happily. “It wasn’t even me that made it, it was my mom. She always made me a small cup of coffee before school with breakfast.”

“Hmhm, same~ Except with me, it was my dad. He always made everypony in the family coffee and my mom would make breakfast. It was our little routine.”

“Yeah, I feel you there. It’s one of the things I missed the most after my mom passed. I kinda just… never had the motivation to make it myself after that.”

“Oh.” Moonlight’s ears fall to her head and her brows raise melancholically. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope you’re doing much better now…”

“… Eh. Hard to say. I mean, she died a long time ago now, so… I guess you can say I’m over it.”

“How old were you when she passed?”

“Thirteen. It was actually a few days away from my fourteenth birthday when she was killed.”

“That’s so horrible…”

“Yeah. Wildmanes got to her. Nearly got to me too, but… town militia saved me in the nick of time.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, that’s… I couldn’t even imagine…”

“Shit happens, I guess. It happens a lot too.”

She nods understandingly. “In—Indeed… um… w-what of your father? Is he still okay?”

“My dad? Pfft. Fuck that guy.” Moonlight puts a hoof over her mouth. “He’s a deadbeat shit-stain that raped my mom. The reason I even exist is because that guy sucks so much.” She glances to Moonlight, catching her tension. “… But, uh… to answer your question… he’s dead too.”

Moonlight lines her lips and looks away, wanting to shrink into a ball for asking such a sensitive question unknowingly.

Dahlia lifts her mug to her lips, taking a careful sip of the hot liquid. She savors it, smacks her lips a few times, and smiles. “Mm. This is good stuff. Kinda tastes like the brand my mom used to buy.”

Completely unsure how Dahlia managed to blow past such a sharp topic so quickly, Moonlight suffers brief intrapersonal whiplash. Though once her mind catches up, she trepidly speaks up. “I-I’m glad you like it. It’s the Northwest Seasons brand.”

“Aah, yeah! Northwest Seasons! That’s the same one my mom would buy! Huh, small world.”

Moonlight nods with a timid smile.

“What about your parents? They a total train wreck like mine?”

“N… Not exactly. They’re… they’re very kind. I haven’t… I haven’t seen them in a long time. Almost a whole year. B-But that’s my choice. They live in Canterlot.”

“Huh. What keeps you from stopping by?”

“… Like I said, m-my parents, they’re… very kind. Maybe a bit too kind. Even when I was in Magic Academy, they would treat me like a foal. They were also very selective of who I could be friends with.”

“Ugh, that sounds awful. I can see why you don’t visit.”

“I love them very, very much, but… I think I would lose my mind if I spent more than one evening at their home again. I know I should be more grateful, especially since… from what you had said…”

“You don’t need to answer to them if you don’t feel like it. You don’t gotta answer to anypony. You’re a grown mare.”

“… I wish they understood that. … B-But, um… I wanted to ask, w-where are you from?”

“I came from a shithole that used to be called the Communities. Pretty sure you’ve heard of ‘em.”

“Oh! Yes! My grandfather from my dad’s side is from there! Or, from what the Communities used to be, before the unification. He used to work for the wheat farms.”

“Huh. I wonder if my mom knew him.”

“It’s a possibility. Before the Great War ended, he was the last of my family’s lineage. It was the only place he could find stable work. Though, he never wanted to settle down in the Communities because of how unsafe they were, so he worked and saved up enough money to move to Canterlot. He spent most of his adulthood working for the city – paving the streets and refining gold.”

“Hm, maybe not then. If your grandpa was still young, then my ma’ was probably very little. Or not even born yet.”

The two take a moment to sip at their drinks. The warmth of the beverage works comfortably against the cool of the spring morning, especially against the downpour.

“I was curious,” Moonlight suddenly begins, “… w-what did you mean by ‘I wasn’t what you expected?’”

“Ah, yeah. That.” She mulls in her mind for the right choice of words. “… I’ll start by saying I can’t put it in a nice light.”

“That’s okay. Please tell?”

“Hmh. Well, alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. So… I’m sure Crimson has said stuff about me. What I do to make money, I guess.” Moonlight nods in affirmation. “And Crimson told me where you’re from. City of gold and marble.” She nods again. “I think you know where I’m going with this. Rich, spiffy prick against a nasty dirt-bathing thief. Everypony who lives in Canterlot is immediately on my shit list. I can’t stand ponies so far up their own ass that they can’t even see how intolerable they are. Especially since your kind really likes looking down on the little guys.”

“… Did you think I was like this?”

“To put it bluntly, yeah. I did. I didn’t like you, the thought of you… anything about you really. I know you felt the same way about me.” Moonlight’s ears perk up as her eyes expand. “Yeah. Crimson told me that you don’t like tomb raiders.”

“Oh. I…” Knowing that there is no logical excuse she can use, her ears fall against her head again. “… Yes, I… I did have a negative connotation of you as well. I just… I just think that there are other ways of studying long lost civilization and treasures that does not involve pillaging. A team of careful archeologists could-- …” She sees that Dahlia is staring at her very boredly, causing her to stop. “… N-Never mind. … I want to apologize for being so crude. I shouldn’t have judged you before I actually got to know you. It's… it’s definitely something that was learned living in Canterlot.”

Dahlia tries to hold the resting bitch face as best as she can, but finds it extremely difficult from how apologetic and sincere she finds Moonlight to be. Her lips quiver before failing to control a snicker. The blue unicorn looks very confused. “Hehey, don’t sweat it, Moonlight. I’m a bitch too. A way bigger one than you. I judged the hell out of you, and I only started to change my mind when me and Crimson stopped by your house for the first time. There’s no way one of the richest members of the Consortium has a house this small and cozy. All the rich assholes I’ve ever met buy things that make sure you know that they’re rich assholes. This?” She throws one hoof into the air, signaling the house. “This is one of the comfiest houses I’ve ever been in. It sorta reminds me of the one I Iived in as a filly.”

Moonlight was listening to her, wary and timid, but as Dahlia kept speaking, a smile began to form and now paints her lips proudly. “… I’m glad you like it here. I do too, it’s… it’s special. I actually… never wanted to leave it.”

Dahlia tilts her head curiously. “… Why did you?”

“… Crimson.” She knows that this does not adequately explain the situation, but for some reason, she notes a twinkle of understanding in Dahlia’s eyes. “… He… convinced me to leave. That I should go out and… be more sociable. Interact with the world instead of hide from it. He told me that researching from my home was much less effective and efficient than researching from Canterlot.”

“Well he’s right, isn’t he?”

“… In a way. The tools for research are far superior in Canterlot than here in my home. That’s objectively correct. But… it’s everything else that makes being over there much… much less efficient.”

“Everything else? … You mean like… the kinda stuff that made you come back here?”

Moonlight nods simply, bringing her coffee up for a sip.

Finding herself overrun by curiosity, Dahlia fidgets in place before following suit, taking a hasty sip of her drink. It cooled a little, making it more comfortable to take. “If, uh… if you don’t mind me asking. What… did happen?”

“Crimson didn’t tell you?”

She shakes her head, knowing that it is mostly the truth, but not all of it.

“Mm… well… I don’t mind you asking. It’s… a silly situation.”

“I’d still like to hear it.”

Moonlight smiles meekly, finding her genuine intrigue somewhat flattering. “… Well… it really started after my graduation from Magic Academy. After my final thesis to graduate, the Royal Research team was invested in my work. They recruited me right after graduation, and Celestia herself taught me almost everything I know in terms of advanced spell casting. … To be honest, I didn’t want to be a researcher.”

“You wanted to be a teacher, right?”

Her eyes gleam in surprise. “Y-Yes. I did. Crimson… told you?”

“Yeah. He didn’t tell me much about you, but… that was one of the things he did.”

She blushes lightly. A smile takes shape. “… I wanted to be a teacher. But… my parents convinced me to join them. The Royal Researchers. The princess herself invited me for a ceremony. By the start of the following spring, I was taking a picture with the newest school of scribes. My life changed a lot when I joined them. That’s where I met my first crush… w-well, my first official crush. My parents forbade me from seeing anyone until I was seventeen.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“Of all the rules they put on me, that was definitely the most egregious one. At least, I felt this way until that first crush became my coltfriend. He… he treated me…” she tries to find words to both soothe her aching heart but clean enough not to feel guilty for saying them, “… very… badly. He was very unkind to me.”

“Huh. Trust me, sister. Bad dates, I’ve been there.”

Feeling encouraged by Dahlia’s words, she continues with less hesitation. “He always wanted to… do ‘the deed.’ I asked him to wait until marriage, but it felt like that’s all he really wanted from me.”

“Ugh, I know. Fuck those guys. There was this asshole I was forced to date like eleven years ago. Literally the same way. This stallion of yours… what’s his name?”

“… C-Crescent.”

“Crescent. Fuck him, he fucking sucks, and he should be dead. If this was the way he was acting, I’ll take a wild guess and say he was putting his hooves on you too, wasn’t he?”

“… On multiple occasions… but… um… w-what was ‘his’ name? The one you were forced to date?”

“Zest. That loser’s name was Zest.”

“D-Did Zest… hurt you too?”

“Pff, that’s putting it lightly. The fucking wacko tried to rape and kill me.” Moonlight inhales sharply enough to cut the air in front of her. “Yeah. I used to work for a rich family as a maid, and he was their snobby, shitty son. They practically forced me to date him, but I’d always put him off. The night he tried to rape me, I ended up killing him.”

Moonlight’s mouth hangs open.

“Not intentionally. It was… I was just trying to save myself.”

Understanding the place she comes from, Moonlight fixes her face and takes in a depressive muse. “… I wish… I wish I had your heart. Crescent would hit me and call me mean things, all because I wasn’t giving him what he wanted… even when I said I would, after we were married.”

“That’s the thing. Marriage. Stallions hate it, and for good reason. All they want is to sleep around and be gross and stupid. They just want something to satisfy them.”

Moonlight squints, feeling her own expelling of emotions through Dahlia’s crude way of speaking. “… It didn’t stop with him. This last time… after Crimson convinced me to return to Canterlot-- … well, let me step back a little. Just after Crescent was sent to the Dungeon for what he did to me, there was this… f-friend,” she forces the word out, feeling terribly bitter at saying it. “He was a scribe, just like me. He’d been there for two years already, and he was… nice. He was very understanding. He liked a lot of the things I liked, and… he fell in love with me. I almost did the same with him, but… I only knew he had feelings for me after Crescent had asked me to date.”

“Damn. That timing’s incredible.”

“It… was. Because this friend… M-… M-Magnifying Glass. After Crescent. After staying away from Canterlot for years. Crimson convinced me to go back. And when I did, the first thing Magnifying did was… ask me out on a date. I had no idea it would end so… terribly. He… he tried to do… exactly like Zest did.”

Dahlia squints in anger. Even if she already knew what the outcome was, seeing the timid blue unicorn explain this herself surfaces emotions she suppressed long ago. “What a piece of fucking shit. I’m glad Crimson killed him.”

Moonlight’s face twitches. It then cracks a smile. She lifts her eyes from the carpet and up to Dahlia. “… I agree completely.”

Grins on their faces, they move to sip at their coffee.

‎

‎

~ Equestria, The Slums ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 11:09

‎

The walk across the sand-riddled streets is eerily quiet. Many denizens of this shambled city are seen peeking through their shanties – he feels that some of them recognize him. Still, none speak up or verbally acknowledge him.

It is not long until finds and walks the hidden trail, finding himself in the clearing where the motel sits. He comes up on the porch and reaches for the doorknob. Something inside him still expects an older kind to be standing idly on the other side of the receptionist desk, but when he opens the door and pushes it in, there is no one of the sort. The motel is just as empty and desolate as it was once left.

Crimson proceeds to scour each room in the hall, opening each door and bothering not to close them. No one resides in the five rooms. He returns to the lobby and maneuvers around the desk, opening the back door and heading to the small square yard.

Three mounds await him, two of which have headstones. Other than these three, there is no one else to greet him.

Letting out a despondent sigh, he walks up the grave in the center, hands in his thin pockets. He looks down at Axel’s resting place, simply watching it. Thinking. Feeling.

He glances between all of the mounds before letting his eyes fall to his boots. “… Mornin’, y’all,” he finally says after building up the courage. “How’s everythin’ on the other side? … Goin well, I’d hope. … Yeah. I’m still tryin’ to-- ... just tryin’a figure everythin’ out. Things got a lot more complicated, I’ll tell y’all what. Smalltime hits sound like a dream right about now. Take that over what I’m dealin’ with.”

Feeling the urge to take a seat and simply converse with the three, Crimson does so. He has some time to kill before needing to head back, so he figures it will be alright. He sits on the dirt, legs crossed, and continues speaking to no one but himself and the mounds of dirt.

‎

‎

~ Equestria, Moonlight’s Home ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 11:10

‎

“And then what happened?” Moonlight asks enthusiastically. Both mares seem to be feeling more lively than usual as they both partake in invested conversation, already finished with their drinks and having sat their cups down on the table. They may not realize how the caffeine coursing through their bodies could be causing them to be more energetic.

“Then! I crawled under the spike trap I dodged earlier, kicked one of the spears off the wall, and used it as a weapon to fend off the vipers!”

“Wooah! That’s incredible! Amazing quick thinking in such a stressful situation!”

“Yeah, I even surprised myself. I was even more surprised when one of the vipers survived a stabbing and managed to jump at me.” Moonlight gasps, holding her hooves over he mouth. “Heh, but lucky for me, the watch I bought in Manehattan managed to protect my arm from the fangs. It bit right on the face of the watch, and the battery exploded. I didn’t even know watch batteries could blow up like that.”

“Oh my stars! Now that I think about it, I believe my dad had one of those watches! I don’t quite recall the brand name, but he also bought a watch from a shop in Manehattan a few years ago when he used to supervise the Canterlot refinery. He came back with it and the battery popped during his shift. The refinery is a really hot place, so I don’t think the watch liked that. It suddenly went one day and he was so angry. He had a really bad bruise on his arm and his coat got burnt off.”

“Yup! Same thing happened to me. Better circumstances than your dad, though. The viper couldn’t dig into my arm and battery blowing up shooed the sucker off. Maybe the watches possessed me and your dad ‘cause I remember being super pissed too. Stabbed that viper like ten times from how angry I got.”

“Heheh~ This is the first time I’ve ever heard shoddy craftsmanship saving a pony’s life.”

“Hehe, fortune and luck work in mysterious ways~ Even I don’t know how I’m still alive when I really think about it.”

“I think it’s because you’re bold. You know that saying how fortune favors them?”

“Hey, maybe you’re right. I guess fortune really smiles on ponies who buy terribly-made ‘fancy’ brands of watches.”

Both mares share a heartly chortle.

“That actually reminds me,” Dahlia starts again, “what’s up with that watch you’re making upstairs? You said it was for Crimson, right?”

“Oh! Y-Yes, it is!”

Dahlia hears the change in tone the unicorn has when reference to him is brought. She tries not to make her skepticism obvious. “He want a watch or something?”

“U-Um… well… sort of. I’m making it for him because…” She stops, trying to piece the words together. “… It was an idea primarily to help him keep track of time as he looked for you, since we wouldn’t know how long it would take. W-We… sort of… made an agreement… that he wouldn’t be out for too long. F-For safety’s sake.”

“… Uh-huh. Safety’s sake.”

Moonlight’s posture deflates slightly.

“What’s the real reason you’re making it for him?” Caught like a deer in headlights, Moonlight’s lips purse and her eyes widen. “C’mon, Moonlight. You can’t bullshit me. You haven’t yet, don’t start now.”

“P-Please. Forgive me, I-- … I’m sorry.”

“Dude, don’t sweat it. Just don’t lie. You obviously have something to say, so say it.”

Moonlight brings her hooves to the left lock of her twirled mane and begins to play with it, trying to push down her trepidation. “Uuhm… I… I’m making it for him… so he can keep track of time while looking for you. Per our agreement.” Dalhia nods, giving a look that says ‘and?’ “A-And… it’s… for me. Too.”

“You two gonna share it or something?”

She shakes her head quickly, “N-No, it’s… it’s for me because…” She feels her cheeks enflamed. The embarrassment is almost suffocating. “… B-Because I… don’t want him gone… for too long.”

Dahlia furrows her brows, giving the little unicorn a very obvious look of skepticism. “That’s… weird. Why though?”

“B-Because… I c-care for him, and…”

“Stop right there, Moonlight.” She does as commanded. “I don’t need to be a good guesser for this one, this is too obvious. You’re in love with Crimson, aren’t you?”

“Eep!” Her heart throbs in her hears.

“Huh. Figures. So you’re making him that watch so he doesn’t fall flat on his promise.”

“… Y-Yes,” she responds almost inaudibly.

“… Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s in love with me.”

“WAAH!?”

Dahlia gives a bored look to her hoof, as if examining it without care. “Yeah, sorry Moonlight. He already told me he did.”

“B-But--! Th-That’s--!” Her face is burning so badly that she could scream. Despite this urge, she controls her voice so it instead comes out raised rather than shouted. “No! He loves me! He told me too, and we kissed!”

“You WHAT!?” Dahlia’s face reddens immediately.

Feeling like she has the high ground, Moonlight puts up a small, vicious smile. “T-This morning as a matter of fact! Before he left! W-We’ve been kissing a lot!”

“Yh-- Wuh-- Oh yeah!? Well, we kissed too! Before you two did! We kissed and he said he loves me! So you’re obviously lying!”

“I’m not! He did! We did!”

Dahlia jumps up from the couch and hovers right over Moonlight with her wings. “He can’t love us both at the same time, Moonlight! And guess what!? I’m not gonna just let you have him! Him--! We! You can’t even begin to imagine the shit we’ve been through!”

Puffing out her chest and cheeks, Moonlight stares up at the hovering pegasus with squinted eyes. “W-Well, him and I have gone through just as much! I can’t let him go!”

“Neither can I! What makes you think you can just take him, huh!?”

“B-Because! He’s--! I’m…!” she pauses briefly, almost not wanting to say what is about to surface. But, in part emotional overburden and part fighting for herself, she continues regardless. “I’m obsessed with him! Unhealthily! A-And I won’t let him go! Ever!”

Dahlia’s eyes dilate at what she hears. Not because of how objectively unhinged it is, but because… “… Oh yeah!? Well guess what, sister! I’m obsessed with him too! More than you! Way more than you! Too bad, so sad! I was there for him first! Get in line!”

Moonlight’s throat catches mid-rebuttal. Her body urges to continue mindlessly shouting back, but Dahlia’s words stick like cementing paste onto the walls of her mind.

“Well guess what, sister! I’m obsessed with him too!”

Moonlight’s trembling, furious eyes slowly lose their insanity. Something inside her, like a crack suddenly appearing in a perfectly molded vase, breaks through both hemispheres of her brain. This sensation, whatever it is, begins to trickle from her head down to her heart, and to the rest of her body. She lifts her submissive pink orbs up and down the pegasus who still eyes her like a sworn enemy.

“What’re you looking at!?”

“D-Dahlia,” Moonlight coos softly.

“What!?”

Moonlight flinches lightly at her barking. Still yet, she tries to compose herself and press on. She proceeds extends one hoof out slowly and carefully, as not to be mistaken for a physical attack. Dahlia almost does so anyway, looking at the hoof in something like fear or agitation. It takes a second, but she soon realizes it is an offer. A bidding for her to reach as well.

Still riled up, Dahlia questions, “What is this!? What are you doing!?” Moonlight simply holds out her hoof, yearning for it to be accepted. The angry pegasus very obviously sees the sincerity in her pink ponds, and still, she tries to fight it. “Why are you doing this?” she asks critically, but with a lowered tone.

“… Please, Dahlia.”

Her teeth clench. Her magenta orbs still burn what they see… but she relents. Through some miracle even she does not understand, she forces herself to extend a hoof to meet Moonlight’s. They touch. She feels herself gently being pulled in. She does not fight it and allows herself to brought down and sat on the couch. Now sitting right next to each other, they make unbreakable eye contact – especially that of Moonlight’s firm stare.

This intimate silence is held long enough for Dahlia’s burning flame to die down to embers.

“I…” Moonlight begins with hesitance, “… I’m sorry for becoming so confrontational with you. I… lost my temper, and I don’t want to make this your perception of me… especially because of… our desires.”

Dahlia lines her brows atop her eyes but does not speak up yet.

“We’ve known about each other for some time now, but were never able to meet until today. This encounter was pure coincidence… at least, I thought it was. The more we talked with each other, the more things we had to say, I started to realize that… m-maybe… we’re not so different.”

“… Well I think we’re night and day.”

“And… you’re right. As similar as we are, we’re different in that you’re headstrong and honest. I… really admire that about you. I’m… not nearly as strong as you are. I hold onto a lot of things I want to say. I don’t like confrontation, just like right now. But…”

“… But,” Dahlia takes advantage of Moonlight drifting off to speak up. Moonlight abides by silencing herself. “It sounds like we’ve both been through a lot. And surprisingly, a lot of the same problems. Which, to be frank, is kinda crazy to think about. You come from the snobby world of the rich… but somehow, you dealt with a lot of the same things a poor social outcast like me had to deal with. I never would have guessed it honestly. I guess this world really is as unforgiving as we think it is.”

Moonlight nods twice, a small simper upon her lips.

“… And, like…” Dahlia’s ears fall to her head, beginning to feel the stomach-turning guilt of her recent explosion. “… I’m sorry too, I guess. I meant what I said, and I kinda hate myself for it. I lived my whole live not wanting to get attached to anypony anymore, and look where it got me. Completely obsessed with an alien from another world.”

Moonlight giggles. “I couldn’t have explained my circumstances any better than you just did.”

“… Huh. I guess we really are a lot more similar than I’m giving credit. I just… I’m not good at handling the way I feel, especially when it’s things I feel strongly about. I’m not… I’m not as good as you are at staying calm. And, honestly, I… I sorta… kinda… respect that. About you.”

Moonlight finds herself blushing. Her smile becomes more prominent.

“I blow up easily. I’m a bitch. You wouldn’t believe how mean I was to Crimson when we first met. Hell, even months into knowing the guy, I still treated him like shit. Worst of all… a-and I hate to admit this… the things I’ve done would have gotten him killed if he was a regular human. I just… I owe him more than just my life, yet I treated him so fucking badly...”

“I feel like it was a self-defense mechanism so that you wouldn’t become attached to him. I… I wasn’t mean to him, it was the complete opposite. I didn’t use anger to keep my emotions at bay. I… I only ever wanted him to take care of himself, but he would always come back terribly wounded after his expeditions with the Guard. He didn’t listen to me… and then, one day, he was just… gone. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling, so I-- ...”

Dahlia’s expression falls for concern.

“… I… resorted to… hurting myself.”

“… Is that what that bucket was in the restroom?”

“Y-- … You saw that?” she asks, her timid voice coated with embarrassment.

“… Yeah. That’s… hardcore, Moonlight. Even I’ve never done something like that, and I’ve definitely considered killing myself more than once.”

“… I’m sorry…”

“No, Moonlight. Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about. And you know what? You deserve way better. A pony like you shouldn’t have to be hurting the pain away. I know this is all surface-level talk, but I feel like the things I’ve heard about you are true. You aren’t some stuck-up prick from a rich family. You really are somepony who cares about those around you. Not some fake bullshit like some ponies we might know put up. You’re true from the heart out. I couldn’t imagine being that way. I’m… a fucking jagged piece of broken glass compared to you.”

“It’s strange that you say that. I wish I could be more like you... not afraid to voice her mind.”

“That’s funny, because I wish I could be more like you. I wish I could control my anger and be… nice. As nice as you are. As nice as you’ve been to me. Like, I literally broke into your house, and you offered me coffee. If that doesn’t say something about you, then nothing will.”

With hearts upon their sleeves, they now gaze into each other’s eyes with something bubbling inside them. Between the both of them, it becomes obvious that Dahlia is not sure what to do with these feelings. Moonlight takes the reigns and sucks in a deep breath.

“I can see why Crimson would say that he loves you,” Moonlight murmurs. The blush on Dahlia’s face shimmers. “You’re not broken glass. You’re… like a diamond in the rough. And if I can see that, then I’m certain he can. As difficult it is for you to be affectionate, it’ll come over time if you keep trying. Like Crimson told you, I wanted to be a teacher. Being patient and affectionate was something my mom placed on the top shelf. It naturally bled into me being this way, and my desire to be a teacher. … If nothing else, please watch me. If you need somepony to guide or teach you how to be… affectionate, then I’m more than happy to be there for you.”

Dahlia’s chest feels made of lead. The mental burden weighing down on her at this moment can only be eased by peeling at her pride, just as the unicorn at her side has done. “I… I need to tell you this. I feel like I’m gonna freak out if I don’t.”

Moonlight nods encouragingly.

“… I was… I was extremely jealous of you when I first saw you. I… I got so angry. But I didn’t let Crimson know. See, not long ago, before the whole fucked up situation at Canterlot, we were working with the Horseshoes.”

“You whaa…?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s… it’s a really long story. We’ll get there eventually, but… when we were working for them, one of the things they made us do is take a mind spell that let us see through that Magnifying dude’s eyes for a bit.”

“Hwaa!? That’s… that’s incredible! H-How--?” She sees the bored expression grow upon Dahlia’s face, prompting her to apologize and stay quiet.

“Yeah, well, anyways… the first time I saw you and learned what you looked like was when the Horseshoes put that spell on us. That nerd guy went to visit you and… there you were. I saw you and I was… so damn jealous. I almost snapped at Crimson for no reason. I have no clue how I held it in. You’re so damn pretty, it’s unfair. Your face, your eyes, your colors, your… your ass!”

Moonlight’s eyes widen as her pupils become grains of sand.

“Yeah, I said it! You have a big ass, Moonlight, and a pretty little face, and your colors are pretty, and… just! You’re pretty! And it made me jealous! I was jealous! Okay!? I’m sorry!”

The shock that pulses through Moonlight is quick to settle when Dahlia vents. A cherry blush makes itself right at home across her muzzle and cheeks.

“… I don’t know how I held it in. I think I said some dumb shit like ‘she doesn’t look like much.’ Hugh, I feel like such a stupid bitch..."

"Y-You’re… you’re really pretty too.”

Dahlia’s muzzle scrunches, glaring hypercritically at the unicorn who compliments her.

“… Your eyes are such a beautiful shade of magenta, just like the flower in your name. Your coat is really unique. I have never met a pony with a tan coat. It compliments your eyes and hair. You… you are very pretty, Dahlia. Prettier than I imagined you in my head. I-I know that’s a really weird thing to say, but… I spent more nights I’d like to admit just imagining what you looked like.” She chuckles, letting her hears fall against her head. “It’s so strange. From the very start of knowing Crimson, he would always talk about you and kept trying to find you. He was always concerned for you. And now you’re here, with me. I’ll happily admit that I was jealous too. I even asked him if he’d abandon me to stay with you once he found you.”

“Are you serious? He always made me think the opposite. It’s like you were this goddess to him. Everything related to you was sacred to that guy.”

“Hnh.” Moonlight squirms, her body suddenly feeling very hot. “N-No, it… it seemed like he thought of you that way.” After she says this, she suddenly lifts her glittering gaze from the couch to Dahlia in such a manner that almost startles the pegasus. “C-Can… can I… ask you… s-something?”

The anticipation Dahlia feels is so thick she has to swallow it before saying, “S-Sure…”

“Uhmm… h-how do I word this. I’m… um… w-well, you and I-- … we are-- … I feel like we… compliment. Each other. I… think you’re pretty, and I have a lot to learn from you. I’ve enjoyed your company. I-I hope you feel the same about me.”

“Ss-Spit it out, would ya’?”

“I’m—” Moonlight stops. She takes a deep breath. She holds it in and puffs her chest out. She puts up the sternest face she possible can before she speaks. “I’m interested in pursuing a relationship with you and him simultaneously!”

“Ghahaah?” Dahlia pulls her head back, pupils shrunken to pricks.

“T-Think about it! I’m like you! A-And you’re like me! I know the feelings you feel! If he were to leave me, a-and not love me, I’d—I’d— … I’d rather not elaborate on the harm I’d inflict upon myself if he was taken away! A-At the same time, the last thing I want to do is inflict that pain upon somepony else! Especially a pony like you! S-So please, I beg that you at least consider it!”

Dahlia, appearing to be stuck in a mental limbo, gawks dumbfounded at the desperate, nearly crying unicorn. Moonlight glares back, slowly losing hope due to her silence. “… Hh--,” the tan pegasus croaks out before clearing her throat. Even this failed attempt at speaking encourages Moonlight. “… H-How should we tell him?”

Moonlight's darkening depression is banished into sunshine and singing fowl. A smile forms and expands until it is ear to ear. “R-Really!?” Dahlia nods cautiously, though still holding a genuine smile. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“C-Come on, Moonlight! We need to plan this!”

“Ah! Y-Yes! Right!” Having to suppress the bottled rocket that has become her excitement, Moonlight sucks in a long, deep breath of clarity and thought. “I-If we want to plan this effectively, I must know one very important detail...”

“... And that is...?”

“Are you interested in... m-marriage?”

Dahlia’s flustered face shimmers at the question, know its deep-rooted implications. “... Are you?” Moonlight nods to the counter-question. “... Then I am too.”

The unicorn gasps happily. “Yay!”

“But what does that have to with breaking the news to our guy? What are we gonna tell him?”

“... Oh.” Moonlight deflates slightly. “I, um... I honestly have no idea.”

“Ghk!-- C’mon, Moonlight! Come up with something! I don’t know how to do this shit!”

“U-Uhm, umm, mm…” She frantically thinks for something, anything, that they could say. Finally something pops into mind. “W-What if we wait for him in my room? That should give us bracing time once he returns. Th-Then, we can sit him down and explain everything.”

“I’m not good at explaining my feelings, Moonlight…”

“T-That’s okay. I can explain everything for you. Would that be okay?” Dahlia shifts her eyes to the left at nothing, letting the unicorn’s offer hover around her head. The guilt she feels due to relying on Moonlight so heavily is eased when the mare herself reach out to place a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “I’m happy to do this for us, Dahlia.”

Dahlia clenches her teeth, attempting to keep her emotion away from her tear ducts. She locks eyes with Moonlight and nods twice. At this approval, the unicorn delivers a smile with enough love to bring chills from her head to her hooves.

Moonlight admires the glistening orbs of the pegasus dearly. When she catches Dahlia’s inability to speak up or add anything further, she coos gently, “Did you want to go upstairs with me? I’ll keep working on the watch while we wait for him to get back.”

Again, Dahlia nods without words. She sniffles and begins to rise from the couch. Moonlight follows suit and guides her to the bedroom.

‎

‎

~ Equestria, Moonlight’s Home ~<
April 13th, Thursday, 17:50

‎

A slightly bitter airs surrounds Crimson's spirit at his unsuccessful venture. He figures he could waited longer for Dahlia to arrive, but the existence of his deadline looms over him. He finds himself wanting to plan ahead for the next place to search for her, but there is a current matter more pressing than this.

Knowing that the sun is well on its way down, Crimson kicks it into double-time to arrive back at his agreed upon timeframe. He starts to conjure excuses in his head in the event that he is late. He sure hopes it does not come to that, but he cannot think of any other way to explain the fact that he sat next to a grave for several hours having a one-way conversation. Maybe she will understand, considering the subject matter, but he still would rather not resort to that.

Instead of making up excuses, he stands on the decision to make it on time. And if he is going to do that, he will need to push himself. He has never tried to fly faster than he currently is, considering he is already moving at an alarming speed. He figures his body can handle it, but it may not fair well in the event he loses control and takes a swing at the ground.

He contemplates this dilemma for the better part of a few seconds. He agrees with himself that an angry Moonlight is not worth it. So with the lack of better judgement, he furls his wings forward in front of himself. Quicker than a blink of the eyes, he flaps his wings once with intense power. His back muscles strain from the energy needed, but--

FwOOOOM!

His cheeks wobble frantically as his eyes squint against the pressure of his ridiculously heightened velocity. His speed reaches the several-hundreds of miles an hour. A cone of visible air encompasses him as he abuses the sound barrier.

He steadily slows down to his previous pace. He assesses his body without stopping his flight. He reaches to his face. No damage.

He begins to understand something very important. Now that his gift is running naturally and not painfully strained as before, everything he does just seems to… work. These intense bursts of speed do not harm in any way. In fact, they feel good to perform, if a bit straining on his back.

…

Again.

FwBOOOOOOM!

He held his face stern as he performed it again, and this time, with even greater power. He slowly returns to his regular speed once more.

It is certainly exhilarating to say the least. He finds contentment new-found technique. He wonders briefly if what he is doing might cause alarm to the world below, as the sound emitting from ripping the sound-barrier is astonishingly loud. Though, he encourages himself to continue when he eyes the grey clouds underneath him. He supposes he can act as if what he is doing is simply thunder.

He continues this less-than sane method of locomotion until he nears his destination.

‎

~~~<

‎

Not a moment too soon, Crimson falls upon the grass of the backyard in Moonlight’s home. His landing was less gracious than before, feeling somewhat winded from the exertion, so catches himself with all fours.

He rises with a grunt, letting out a breath. He runs his nails back through his hair to try and fix the mess it has become. He marches to the sliding glass door, noticing a folded towel left on the carpet of the living room right before the door. Silently appreciating the gesture, he opens the door, picks up the towel, and begins to wipe himself down. Once he is mostly dry, he steps in all the way and closes the door.

He finds himself a little disappointed when Moonlight does not come to greet him like yesterday. In fact, it is quiet. A little too quiet.

“Moonlight?” Crimson calls with a raised voice and a hand next to his mouth.

“Upstairs!”

The mare responds from above. A smile of comfort forms at hearing her voice. He throws the towel over his damp hair, covering most of his head and vision. He keeps an eye on the floor as he trails down the hall, over to the staircase, and up towards her bedroom door, which is mostly closed without a gap to peek through. He happily and confidently pushes it open, taking off the towel from his head to greet—

“Ah-- …” He starts but stops immediately. Two pairs of yearning eyes, one pink and one red, look up to him as he freezes at the doorway. Crimson feels his guts nearly pour out of his mouth – his hand unwillingly lets go of the towel it was holding. His left eye twitches, feeling as if his brain was smoothed over with concrete. “… What in the god damn…?”