"Wait, hold on a second," Pastel said, holding a hoof out. "Where do you get the cheese?"

"Ah, a scholar!" the stallion, one Zucchini Bread, said with a hearty wink. "Well, see, first you get some milk, and then you take some liquid thistle, they call it rennet, and then—"

"Right, right," Pastel said, nodding, "I've talked with some farmers who make their own cheese, but that's not what I meant. I meant, where do you get the ingredients for it?"

"Oh, well, I make my own rennet," Zucchini said with a grin. "You just have to find thistle and steep it, like tea."

"And the milk?" Pastel asked, leaning in.

"Oh, that comes from River Lily," he said, waving a hoof back at the rest of the camp. "She just had her foal, lovely little earth filly, and she—"

Pastel zoned out of the rest of the sentence, looking down at the block of soft, pure white cheese in the stallion's hoof. Zucchini shifted, and Pastel watched the soft block jiggle slightly from the movement.

"So what you're telling me," Pastel said, nodding to the cheese, "is that you make a savory baklava out of spinach and mare's milk cheese?"

"It's called byrek!" he said with a smile. "I also use paprika!"

"Ah," Pastel said with a nod, as though this made complete sense. "I see." Blinking, he shook his head and sighed before smiling up at Zucchini. "Alright then, let's make this thing."

Zucchini tilted his head back and laughed, his guffaws echoing around the small wagon as his short-cropped brown mane waved between his ears. Using a deep caramel-colored hoof to wipe away a streaking tear, he grinned at Pastel.

"I knew I'd like you," he chuckled before jerking his head to the door. "The oven's out there already; let's go make some food."

Zucchini grabbed their triangle of dough with his magical field, wrapping it in fine cloth before jumping out of the back of the wagon. "Alright, so, you remember all those layers I had you roll in?"

"My legs do," Pastel replied with a smile.

Zucchini let out a snort and chuckled as he walked over to the pit with a large cast-iron pot sitting at the edge of a bed of ashy gray coals. "Now, have you ever baked something in an oven like this?"

"No," Pastel said. "I've seen some ponies use tripods for cooking a stew over a fire, but I've never baked in one."

"No worries there," Zucchini said, grabbing a nearby set of tongs. "Just gotta be careful of where you put the heat. You make a small ring out of the coals, 'cause the heat spreads through the bottom really well," he said, doing as he said with the fire as he spoke. "You'll go ahead and put the pastry in, making sure not to crowd it, and then..."

Placing the triangles into the oven, he plonked the lid down and said, "Pile some coal on top!" Carefully grabbing several chunks of embers, he placed them around the top of the oven.

"That's more than the bottom," Pastel noted.

"Yup! The heat rises, right, so you gotta put more on top to get even heating." Zucchini carefully looked over the coals before placing the tongs to the side. "And now we wait. About half an hour until they get nice and golden!"

"Oh, do you have something to measure time with then?" Pastel asked, perking up.

"Sure do," Zucchini said, winking and pressing a hoof to his nose. "Between this and the sun, there's no more accurate way of telling time!"

Pastel laughed along with the baker before mentioning, "You know, I was actually working on stuff like time-keepers not too long ago. Water clocks and hourglasses, stuff like that. Would you be interested in one when I can make something?"

Zucchini hummed. "Well, you know, there are some times when I have a cold when I can't smell them perfectly, and then there's foods that just don't have a strong scent. What's a water clock?"

"Well, you take two containers, bowls or casks or whatever you can see into, and then you put a hole in the bottom of one that lets water out at a constant rate," Pastel said, straightening his back and gesturing with a hoof. "You measure how fast the water drips; then you add enough water to measure how long you want it to time. I could paint a line at every five minutes, and you could watch to see when the water hits the lines."

Zucchini let out a low whistle. "All that with just water, huh?"

"And two barrels," Pastel replied with a nod. "I've seen one where the receiving container was made of glass and stripes so that you could read it at just a glance, but I don't know how to shape glass like that," he admitted with a small smile.

"Ough," Zucchini winced with a small laugh, "custom glass-work? Don't think I could afford that. I wouldn't mind commissioning a barrel from you, though."

"Oh, I appreciate it, but I don't really have any tools or anything right now," Pastel said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh, that's not a big issue," Zucchini said, looking around the camp. "If it's a small task and you prove to be careful with his tools, Shadow Steel will lend you his. He's our farrier, but he also works anything we need for the wagons and tools and such." He then waved a hoof towards a specific wagon.

"Oh," Pastel said, perking up. "Then all I need are two barrels. I can make a red paint using some beeswax and some berries or roots." Pastel glanced at Zucchini. "I don't suppose you have some beetroot laying around?"

"I could maybe dig one up," he said with a wink. "And while we don't have our own cooper, I do have a couple of extra barrels I'm not using right now..."

"Well, the barrels will still be usable," Pastel said. "You just won't be able to put liquids in the one with a hole in it."

"Good point," Zucchini said with a nod, rubbing his chin with a hoof. "Alright, why don't you go find Shadow and borrow what you need, and I'll get the barrels and beeswax ready."

"Alright, I'll be right back!" Pastel said with a bounce, walking towards where Zucchini had waved him earlier.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Rock Sugar hummed as she took another bite from the byrek that Zucchini had coached Pastel through. "This is good," she said, waving her piece at him. "Zucch usually uses more paprika, but it's still tasty."

"Glad to hear it," Pastel sighed out, smiling faintly. "It's the first thing I've baked in..."

He stopped, taking a sip of his canteen to give him time to come out of the recollections he found himself diving into. Pinkie's exuberance far outshone any other pony's he had ever met, and that still held. Thinking of her had him lowering the canteen, staring into the swirling water as he lowered his head in thought.

"That long, huh?"

He blinked, looking up and blushing. "Sorry, sorry. It feels like, like yesterday, but..."

He sighed, lifting a hoof and tapping in the cork stopper of his drink. "I guess it's been months now. Maybe over a year."

"The unicorns hadn't had their uprising that long ago..."

Pastel chuckled weakly. "No," he agreed. "No, they didn't. I guess I..." Pastel thought, letting the words pour out as they came.

"I guess towards the end there, I wasn't being the best friend. We still talked, of course, but it had been a while since we'd seen each other for any length of time. We had this tradition, for a little bit, where we got together every weekend and talked and baked together. But...

"But it got hard, seeing her, and..."

"Did you love her?" Roxie asked gently.

Chuckling, Pastel nodded. "Yeah, but not like that. She was one of my oldest friends, besides Spike. One of those five mares I told you about, actually. But I knew her for so long..."

Roxie looked over him before gently saying, "You're twenty-four Pastel, or so you told us. Was that true?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess I just feel much, much older than I look," he mumbled. "And I knew her for so much of my life, that when I lost her..." He shook his head. "It's like I lost a sister, I guess." He snorted. "Older sister, even."

Roxie stared at him for a while before sighing and shaking her head.

"You're not that good at keepin' secrets, huh?"

He laughed there, loud and upfront. "No, no, never was," he said, wiping away a tear that had been building for longer than the laugh that had released it. "I don't like keeping them; honestly, it feels like I'm lying.

"But it's nothing important," he promised, marking an 'x' over his heart. "Nothing that could hurt anypony."

Her ears twitched, then relaxed. "You're either terrible at keeping secrets, or you're a master of giving enough to relax others, and I'm not sure I like that chance." She sighed before laying on her barrel with her legs tucked beneath her. "But I think you're alright, Pastel. Don't let it come back to bite me," she said, flicking her eyebrows up.

Pastel gave her a salute before raising his hoof and peeking out of his wagon. "So I've met Zucchini and Shadow, and your lot, of course," he chuckled, "but is there anypony else? Today?"

"Hmm," Roxie hummed, taking another hoof-full of byrek and taking a bite of it. "Nah, you're done for the day. What about tomorrow? You wanna meet with Drifting Hollow again, see if she has anything new she wants from you?"

"Sure," he said with a nod, reaching forward for the pastry before his hoof met with the burlap he'd borrowed to stow it in. Opening the bag and making sure it was empty, he glanced up at Roxie's raised eyebrows.

"Oh wow, looks like you're out," she mumbled before tossing the last of the food into her muzzle. "Maybe you should make some more," she said around the food and gave him a wink.

He rolled his eyes and snorted before they both broke down into snickering and gentle hooves into ribs.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Drifting Hollow did indeed have some things to ask of Pastel. Namely, a list of the equipment he was used to working with when he made things. With some assistance from Shadow Steel with names, he had a list of tools and toolsmiths who could supply him with his own equipment.

"That, of course, brings up the question of costs," Drifting said. "Cost of materials if you want Shadow to make the tools, cost of labor if you want a better tool from a specialist maker."

"Right," Pastel sighed. "I'm gonna need to earn some coin. I don't suppose that you have anything in mind?"

"As a matter of fact," Drifting said with a small grin, "I was hoping we could do a little trade. See, there were a few reports the other day of some specific new colt lifting more than should be possible for a Pegasus," she said slyly.

"Yeah?" Pastel asked, looking at her warily.

"So," she said with a glance over at Shadow's wagon, "Shadow usually pulls the small cart that we use to port around any new materials we may need for the road. Stuff like raw iron and copper and such.

"My idea is," Drifting said, motioning to Pastel's cart, "since you're wanting to load the cart up more than usual, we'll pay for the raw materials as long as you haul the cart. Shadow's getting older with every passing moment, and while he hasn't said anything, the old mule's starting to slow the caravan down."

Pastel stayed leaning forward, waiting for Drifting to continue.

She looked at him for a moment before clearing her throat." That's it. You carry your weight and a little of ours, and you can have the raw goods. You'll have to deal with Shadow for the working of it, though."

"Oh!" Pastel said, nodding. "Oh, yeah, I can do that then. I'll have to borrow some tools to modify my cart to connect them, probably, but yeah. I'll pull it."

Drifting nodded, clapping her front hooves together in front of her chest. "Excellent," she added on after, seeming to look for words before just saying, "Excellent. Well, sooner you look after it the sooner it'll be done."

Pastel nodded and was away once more, trotting again towards the cart of the blacksmith.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Pastel… No, he could think of himself by his true name right now. Dusk, the disguised prince of Future Equestrian, was currently balanced on his back with his head out the back of his wagon, the bed of it laid flat and balanced on its ropes. He was gazing up at the stars, taking in the sparkling wonder of the Night sky under Celestia.

He could see what she'd been going for, but she desperately needed the practice she'd be getting over the next seven-hundred-odd years. She still hadn't quite gotten Luna's constellations down, and to Dusk, it almost looked like Ursa was attempting mortal combat with Capricorn and losing badly.

Still, she'd at least gotten the sparkling of the light close, and the moon was as beautiful as it had ever been while it was marred with the Mare on the Moon.

"We're both so far away from home, Luna," Dusk whispered, wondering if he could talk with her again without her remembering him when she awoke again in that shattered castle. "Looks like it's the long waiting game for both of us, huh?"

To his relief, there was no answer back. Or he was pretty sure he was relieved, to be honest with himself. At the moment, he wasn't exactly sure how he'd feel about having the Nightmare talk back. A bit afraid, of course, but she'd be eradicated once he freed Luna-

He paused, the thought sticking in his head. Not the thought about talking to the Nightmare; that was foolishness incarnate. No, the thought of who would be the one to eradicate her. Surely it would be another him? The same him? Surely this would end up just becoming a stable loop, with his personal history just happening to include a thousand-year, one-way trip to the past?

The thought wasn't a warm one.

He sighed, looking once more up at the face of the Nightmare upon Luna's moon before he pulled his head in the slit in his canvas and rolled onto his thin pillow. With a last, faltering thought over the last few days, Dusk was soon within a dreamless slumber.

Author's Note

Dedicated to all those who thought this was dead, for some reason Thanks to the patron who stayed, patiently waiting as I slowly typed this chapter over several lunch breaks. Love you lot, and see you next chapter