Two Generations Past

As the sun rose over the mountain of Canterlot to shine over Ponyville, a rock farmer pushed open the door to the least likely of locales.

The building inside was dark. Or had been. As the door opened, light streamed in.

“Rrgh....wha—” On the billiard table, a white unicorn twisted, squinting against the morning radiance...and fell off. She let loose a hoarse scream as she landed on the green felt floor of the club.

Scratch got up, brushing some of her ragged hair out of her face to see the newcomer properly. Her red eyes blinked twice, then she reached to the table, grabbed her purple shades, and put them on. “Ah...much better.” Scratch trotted over to Basalteus. “Who're you? New in Ponyville?”

“No.” Basalteus went over to the bar. “I would like a glass of water, please.”

“What?” Scratch stepped behind the bar. “All this way for water?”

The gray earth pony's brow furrowed. “I had hoped your club would be able to provide what I planned to request. It is necessary for me to have a talk with somepony who regularly frequents this facility, and I wish for something to drink while I wait.”

Scratch raised an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. Don't get your earth a-quakin', Rocky.” She turned, chuckling, and filled the glass. She set it down in front of him. “See? It's not so hard to wait a bit, is it?”

Basalteus took a sip. “When does Merry Punch generally enter the building?”

Scratch jolted, nearly knocking over the water glass.

Basalteus took another sip, watching Scratch.

After a moment's pause, the unicorn levitated up a clearly little-used polishing cloth and began cleaning the bar. “Um...what do you wanna talk to her for?” She laughed, a bit quickly. “Just a crazy drunk. No need to go wastin' your time. Time you could be spending...what, stacking rocks? Seriously, what's with that cutie mark? Looks like a pile of--”

“Very well.” Basalteus nodded curtly. “I will wait.”

Scratch's eyebrows lowered—underneath those shades, she was glaring. “Now, hang on a sec', old-timer--”

“I am your age.” Basalteus tilted his head. “Perhaps a few years older, judging by emotional responses.”

“Don't you--”

“There is no need to respond with vitriol.” Basalteus rolled his eyes. “I am not planning on sabotaging your romantic interest. Merry Punch is living very close to the Everfree Forest. It has been suggested that I, as one with experience in both construction and living apart from others, attempt to convince her to relocate. I believe this would be to your interest as well.”

Scratch didn't answer. Basalteus didn't know what was going on beneath the sunglasses, but he hoped Scratch was mulling these words over. He wasn't in the mood to argue the point.

“You're...just going to talk to her?”

Basalteus shrugged. “Talk to her. Perhaps assist in the relocation, when the time comes. You would be welcome to assist. My only interest is in keeping this 'crazy drunk' from being slain. I am a solely neutral party.”

“Yeah...” Scratch muttered under her breath. “And he could...won't show up for another half-hour at least...”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“If she will not arrive for another half-hour...” Basalteus said slowly, “I will return later.” He started to get up.

“No!” Scratch grabbed his arm and yanked him back down, her voice sounding a bit desperate. “Wait! You can help me.”

Basalteus blinked. “Perhaps I can, but with what, and why?”

“Uh...” Scratch muttered something under her breath that Basalteus didn't catch. “You can...why...”

Basalteus frowned, removing his arm from Scratch's grasp. “I have work to--”

“Can you talk to her?”

Basalteus was surprised enough by the abnormal emotion in the voice that he fell silent. Scratch sounded like she was almost near tears.

“Can you...” She coughed. “Look, I could use your help. I need you to...see, you're a neutral party, like you said. Means you can pull it off and I don't have to worry about your own...”

“Doctor Billiard Scratch,” Basalteus said, “what do you want?”

Scratch rubbed her forehead. “I need you to talk to Merry for me.”

Basalteus took a sip of water. “About what?”

“About...me. About us.”

“Are you involved?”

“No,” Scratch muttered. “That's the problem. Look, I can totally pay you and everything. I just want you to...talk to her, y'know? Try to get a read. See how she feels about me.”

Basalteus considered it.

On the one hoof, he was loathe to get involved. This was a private matter, and none of his business. He was less a 'neutral' party and more an 'uninvolved' party.

On the other, Scratch sounded honestly upset. All Basalteus would have to do was talk. Surely it couldn't be so hard.

“Very well.” Basalteus offered his hoof to shake. “I will offer my assistance when Ms. Punch comes in, on one condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Sign up a contract with the Apple family for their apple cider.”

Smith and Crab Apple were struggling, Basalteus knew. The pastry war was raging furiously. Perhaps an additional customer would help a little.

“Fine. Whatever.” Scratch shrugged, and shook Basalteus's hoof vigorously. “Been thinking about it for a while, anyway. Brand I'm getting is cheap, but it's crap.”

“And you're sure that you'll be able to handle the applebucking?”

“Dizzy, you're readin' way too much into Undercut's hooey.”

Dizzy stood on the road leading from Sweet Apple Acres to Ponyville, looking antsy. Crab stood before her.

Dizzy fidgeted. “Maybe, but you're competing now. I think you need all the hooves around the farm you can acquire!”

“Dizzy. It's two days off.” Crab rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Undercut's a pain, but we can hold off for a day or so. You've been workin' nonstop since you found out, an' I've regretted tellin' you all the while.”

“Crab, what if--”

“Dizzy!” Crab shoved her down the path. “Get goin'! Two weeks o' solid applebuckin' ain't healthy for a pegasus. Take your 'vacation', you've more than earned it.”

“But--”

“Go!” Crab gave the pegasus a final shove.

Dizzy hesitated. Then, she smiled, a bit nervously. “Okay. Thanks, Crab.”

She took to the air and flew off.

Crab sighed, laying his hoof on his forehead. That mare...

“'scuse me, sir?”

He looked up. A lanky pegasus stallion in a blue suit was offering him a brown envelope. “Package for a...Smith?”

“That'd be my mother.” Crab reached up. “I'll give it to her.”

“Um...” The pegasus looked a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, sir. I've got orders.”

“What?”

“This letter is for Smith alone.”

Crab scowled. “You really can't trust her own son to deliver it--”

“It's alright, Crab.”

Crab turned. A green earth pony mare with a yellow mane was approaching. Her mane had streaks of gray, but she moved gracefully, and her eyes were bright and alert.

Smith walked over to Crab and the pegasus and reached up. “I'm Smith. You've got a parcel, have y'?”

“Um, yes.” The stallion handed the envelope to her without question. “It's very urgent. Straight from, um, Canterlot.”

Smith looked over the envelope, and gave a low whistle. “Princess's seal, eh? Well, I ain't heard from Celestia since...a long time.” She looked up. “You look like you've been through quite th'ordeal gettin' 'ere. Quite a ways. You want t'come in an' have a bite?”

“Sorry, ma'am.” The pegasus was already flying higher. “I have my orders. I'm to report that the message got delivered right. If I'm late, they'll send folk after me.”

Smith raised an eyebrow as the messenger departed. “Well, well, well. They ain't really kiddin' around, are they?” She glanced at the envelope she held. “This must be quite a big deal, eh, Crab?”

Crab nodded.

“C'mon inside. Actually, 'ang on. I think Smoky's helpin' pick up the slack for our o'erworked pegasus in th' cabbage patch.”

Crab blinked. “Yes?”

Smith nodded curtly. “Go fetch 'er. If I know those lot right...” She looked down at the envelope. “...I'm guessin' we might want 'er around.”

Dizzy landed on the little gravel road through Ponyville. The gravel had been Basalteus's idea—it was only temporary, but it both gave him a chance to use his spare rocks and made it easier on travelers coming through. Meaning more travelers would come through, according to him.

Dizzy wasn't sure she liked it. The gravel hurt a bit to walk on in bare feet. But for now, if it brought more attention to the town...

She realized she was walking while staring at the ground, and she looked up.

She almost wished she hadn't.

A few meters away, Wraps was having a familiar conversation with a familiar unicorn. Dizzy closed her eyes, but now that she'd noticed them, she couldn't tune out the conversation. She opened her eyes again, resigned to watching the unhappy exchange.

“Leave me alone!” the mint-green unicorn snapped. Her white-and-cyan mane was somewhat unkempt, as if she hadn't tended to it in a while, and her eyes were just a little bloodshot as if from lack of sleep.

“What's wrong, Heartstrings?” Undercut taunted. “I thought you weren't afraid of ponies.”

“I'm not afraid of them.” Hairtrigger Heartstrings glared. “I just don't want to have to deal with you. I have serious matters to attend to!”

“Oh?” Wraps raised an eyebrow. “Did we finally spot a human? Or are you still trying to devise a charm to dispel them?”

“What choice do I have?” Hairtrigger snarled. “Either I act, or I just wait for them to come!”

“Come and do what?” Wraps smirked. “Are they going to poke you with those long fingers of theirs? Perhaps sit on you in that odd manner you say they sit?”

“Shut up!” Tears spilled from the unicorn's eyes, but they were mostly of anger. “You—you don't know what it's like! To be the only one who knows about them! When they come, they'll kill me, and you don't even understand!”

“Most fortunate.” Wraps sniffed. “If understanding makes one an unkempt and insane freak who lacks the ability to see her own reflection without relating it to her delusions, I am quite happy with my ignorance.”

Hairtrigger took a step back, trembling, and bumped into the wall of Wraps's shop.

Wraps stepped forward, smiling maliciously. “I would rather be productive in society, you see. You can feel free to cry yourself to sleep at night--”

“Go away!” Hairtrigger cried.

“--wondering why those old slugs you call family have disowned you, wondering when somepony will finally convince the mental workers that you are a danger to others--”

“I know you're the only one who's saying that, you--”

“--so that you,” Wraps hissed, “can be locked in a mental asylum where you belong. You can feel free to wonder. Me? I'll be content to simply wait. Wait for the day this town is free of its number one freak of nature.” She took a step back, laughing without mirth. “And no, I will not go away. This is my shop. Get your flank off it before I have it removed forcibly.”

Hairtrigger glared. Then she turned and ran.

Sadly, Dizzy watched Heartstrings's departure. Wraps was especially vicious today. She must be in a bad mood. She hesitated.

Wraps inserted her key into the lock for her shop door.

Well...just this once, I guess. She won't know. Dizzy took off into the air after the traumatized unicorn.

“There's a dragon problem,” Smith said grimly.

She stood at the head of the Apple family's little dining table. Crab and Smoky sat on one side, eyes wide.

“A...dragon?” Smoky coughed. “By which you mean--”

“By which I mean big, angry and breathes fire.” Smith nodded. “Yep.

“And he's threatening the town?” Crab frowned. “What're we supposed to do about it? Nothin' against the Princess, but ain't this kinda her problem?”

“Not quite.” Smith began pacing. “The dragon ain't quite hostile yet. She's got eggs, though, an' dragons with eggs're notoriously tricky to handle. We're hopin' we can convince 'er to move the nest. If we can't do that, we'll tell 'er Celestia's prepared to handle it personally. With any luck, there won't be any fightin'.”

“Then why bring us?” Smoky looked around awkwardly. “I would be happy to assist, of course, but would a smaller group not be more practical?”

“Well, yeah.” Smith leaned over the table. “But I can use your teleportin'. An' if we're bringin' two, may as well bring three--looks more official, see? No offense to y', Crab. I hate to make y'the third wheel on this bicycle, but--”

“It's fine.” Crab nodded. “Makes sense. So when do we leave?”

“Ah...” Smith grinned widely. “That'd be now, Crab. Dragon's nestin' in Froggy Bottom Bog. Sooner we act, easier the move'll be.” She got up and started trotting to the door. “Don't bother packin'. This takes longer than a day, we've got trouble.”

“So, you really think the house isn't safe?”

Merry Punch walked alongside Basalteus, as they headed towards the Everfree—and Merry's home. Basalteus had managed to persuade her to stay sober during the discussion.

“This is exactly what I am saying.” Basalteus nodded. “The Everfree Forest is not safe.”

“Well, yeah.” Merry shrugged. “We had some dangers back home, you know.”

“Your cottage's previous owner stopped aging and thinks she's a dog.”

“So the Everfree's a bit worse.” Merry rolled her eyes. “Look, I appreciate that you're here to help, but I actually like my cottage. I'm sick of moving!”

Basalteus sighed. “Please try to understand. I am doing this because there is a very real concern that you will not survive. Every night...” He paused. “...I expect that Ms. Scratch, for one, stays awake worrying for your safety.”

Merry blinked. “Look, I...well...” She scratched her head, and stopped walking for a moment. “The forest does scare me. A bit.”

“That is nothing to be ashamed of. Do you know Crab Apple? He is a very brave pony, but he fears the Everfree. At least, he respects it.”

Merry looked up, brightening slightly. “Oh, you know Crab?”

“He is an excellent friend of mine.”

“Hang on...” Merry pondered it for a moment. “Wow, I can't believe I forgot. It's that blasted alcohol...you helped him with the Timber Wolves, right?”

Basalteus considered it. “Yes. Ms. Hooves, Ms. Mirror, Crab Apple and I collaborated in the disposal of those creatures.” He nodded. “Which is precisely the sort of thing you may have to deal with there.”

“Well...” Merry hesitated. “I mean, I like the cottage. And I'm pretty used to the Forest by now. I...guess I could move a bit. If you don't mind helping.”

“I would be happy to assist. As would your friend, Doctor Scratch.” Basalteus looked up at the clouds above—imported from Canterlot, since pegasi were still a somewhat rare sight in Ponyville. “She seems to care deeply about you.”

“Yes,” Merry murmured, closing her eyes. “Yes, she does.”

She opened her eyes, and smiled very brightly. “Well, let's start going over construction. Sooner the better, right?”

Dizzy flew after Hairtrigger Heartstrings. The unicorn ran very quickly—being a weak flier, Dizzy was actually having some trouble keeping up.

Still, Dizzy was closing in when Hairtrigger ran to her house, levitated open the door, and ran inside. Dizzy was barely able to arrest her flight right before slamming into the slammed-shut door.

The pegasus landed, paused a moment, and knocked.

She heard steel against steel, and noticed two eyes peeking through the mail slot below. She leaned down level with the slot. “Um, hi.”

The eyes stared out at her. Then, the slot closed.

Dizzy stood back up as the door opened. Hairtrigger Heartstrings stood before her.

Dizzy was taken aback by how hateful the unicorn's gaze was. “What do you want?”

Dizzy blinked. “Um, um...uh...”

“Tell me what you want, or go away. Be glad I'm letting you speak at all—there's no reason I should.”

Stunned, Dizzy could only stare.

Heartstrings gave her a withering glare as she slammed the door in Dizzy's face.

“Are we certain the dragon will not simply incinerate us on sight?”

This was the third variation on Smoky's recurring question. Crab sighed. “Yes, Smoky.”

“Really.”

Crab looked around at the ugly bog they were having to plod through. Smith was a short ways ahead, making sure the path was safe.

“Well, no,” he said. “But we wouldn't bother with the mission if it was a sure failure.” He shrugged. “Besides...if we're in danger, you can teleport us, right?”

“Right.” Smoky's voice sounded a bit skeptical, though.

Crab rolled his eyes. “What's wrong now?”

“Well...I can only teleport objects.”

Crab spun around. “What?”

Smoky met his shocked gaze, though she looked a bit guilty. “I'm sorry, Crab. I should have said something, but it's a somewhat embarrassing handicap. Most who learn teleportation get past objects much earlier on, but I was...never quite able.”

Crab groaned, tilting his fedora down. “For...look, Smoky, it would've been nice to know this.”

“We shouldn't need teleportation, though.” Smoky's voice was cheerful, though Crab caught a hint of sarcasm. “After all, if it was a sure failure--”

“Look, Smoky, I ain't scared.” Crab scowled. “I'm worried. Dragons are as new to me as they are to you.”

“They aren't that new.” Smoky leaped over a log. “I have studied them a fair bit.”

She paused. “Did you know that a single dragon egg can fetch enough gold on the black market to fill an entire second hoard?”

Crab blinked. “Uh...”

“Just a bit of trivia.” Smoky kept walking. “Something to keep in mind. It's a good reason for a nesting dragon to avoid pony lands, don't you think?”

“Okay, so what's the plan?”

Basalteus gestured to the nearby cottage. “It is my hope to move it before the sun sets. Only a short distance will be necessary. I believe we can preserve the essential structure—the platform is frail.” He pointed to a large steel slat on four wheels. “We will move it on that. If nothing goes wrong, this should be a simple affair.”

“Alright. “What first?”

“That part is simple. We must empty your home of everything not nailed down.”

Basalteus had not expected Merry to look as nervous as she did. “Um...okay...one moment.”

She turned and ran inside.

Basalteus waited.

After a few minutes, just as he was about to follow, she came out, struggling with something like twelve wooden boxes. The pile swayed. Basalteus had spent enough years piling rocks to tell when something was about to collapse.

He rushed forward. “Look out!”

“Wha--” Merry looked up as the pile tipped dangerously to the right.

Basalteus grabbed for it. Too slow.

The stack swayed, and fell.

There was a cacophony of breaking glass as the crates hit the ground. Merry's eyes widened. “Oh, no.”

Basalteus reached down and opened the nearest box.

Seeing what he was doing, Merry let out a cry and grabbed the box away.

Basalteus turned slowly to her. Too slow again.

“Does each box contain three bottles of whiskey?”

His voice was still perfectly calm, but he detected a hint of disappointment he'd let slip.

Merry flushed. “Um...well, that one has two and a half.” She pointed lamely.

“Hm.”

“It's not...well, it is what you think.” She shrugged. “Let's get on with the move. I don't think too many bottles broke.”

“Only three to five, I would guess.” Basalteus nodded. “The padding was some use.”

Merry's shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Anyway, there's not much else to move. Let's hop to it.”

Dizzy stared at the door for a solid minute.

What was that about? Why would she be so rude to me?

Did I do something to her? I don't think so. Wraps is horrid to her, of course. I think she's got some sort of vendetta.

Indeed, Wraps had been bullying Hairtrigger for quite a long time now. Any sort of abnormality bothered her, and Hairtrigger, the strangest and most vulnerable of the lot, was her favored target.

But I never bother her. Dizzy frowned. She's strange, but she's not dangerous like Wraps thinks. Or pretends she thinks. She's just a weird mare from Canterlot. Wraps bothers her, but I never do. I wouldn't. She goes through enough as it is. Enough of Wraps's...well...

The minute passed. Dizzy blinked.

Then she knocked again. There was no answer.

“Excuse me?” she called. “I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you're alright!”

“I'm fine. Go away.”

“But--”

The door opened. Hairtrigger stood before Dizzy again, snarling, eyes red from exhaustion and tears. “But what, Hooves?” Hairtrigger's voice was getting louder and more emotional as she began to outright yell. “I'm not your friend! Keep to your business, and I'll keep to mine. I don't want any of your bile in my home,” her voice cracked, getting louder than ever, “so just go away!”

Dizzy stumbled back. “I'm not—I just--”

“Are you deaf?” Heartstrings stepped outside, advancing on the wall-eyed pegasus. “I told you to leave! I told you—if you don't leave, right now, I'll--”

“You'll what?” The voice was cool, biting and analytical. Dizzy and Hairtrigger both turned, eyes wide, as Undercut Wraps trotted down the path towards them.

Hairtrigger's voice dwindled. “I—um--”

Wraps raised an eyebrow. “Come now, Heartstrings. I asked a simple question. It's not a complex one by any means. What will you do to my friend if she does not leave your property?”

“I--” The emotional mint unicorn sputtered. “I'll tell someone! She's breaking the law!”

“Is she?” Wraps coughed. “Because it seems to me that you flew into a senseless rage as she walked by, completely unintentionally setting off your—heh—hair trigger temper. Who will the psychiatrists believe, Heartstrings?”

Hairtrigger was pale. “I...”

“So.” Wraps leaned in, smiling confidentially. “What were you going to do, Heartstrings? We are all listening. Your audience is riveted.”

Heartstrings shook. She took a stuttering step back, then turned and bolted back inside. The door slammed shut behind her.

Wraps nodded slightly, then turned to Dizzy.

Dizzy felt sick. “That...”

“Now, Dizzy,” Wraps said, “why did you visit her? Why was it necessary for me to rescue you?”

Dizzy looked at the ground, at the sky, anywhere to avoid looking her best friend in the eye. “I...well, I was...speculative about her habitation, I guess.”

“Hm.” Wraps frowned. “Dizzy, even if she isn't dangerous, she's not really the type you should go near.”

“She was so angry at me...” Dizzy muttered.

“Yes. She's a madmare. Anger is one of her two emotions, Dizzy.” Wraps ran a hoof over Dizzy's mane. “The other one being fear. Believe me, Dizzy Hooves, you would be wise to do your best to avoid her. You get involved too easily.”

“I'm just so tired of being useless, Wraps.”

Wraps smiled. “You aren't useless, Dizzy.” She patted her friend on the head. “You just waste it on the wrong ponies. Come on, now. Let's go get something to eat. My treat.”

“An' there we go.”

Smith stepped through the bushes and onto solid ground. She turned back. “Hurry up, young'uns. We're 'ere now.”

Crab looked up wearily. He was covered in mud, having fallen earlier during a mishap with a hydra hatchling. Luckily, hydras didn't look after their young, otherwise the problem would have been substantially bigger.

Still, mud was annoying. Crab hated baths, but the swamp's reek was strong enough he wasn't even sure one would suffice.

Smoky, meanwhile, looked even unhappier than Crab felt. Her cloak had long since been taken off and folded—it was completely filthy. Her mane was absolutely caked in swamp peat. “At last.”

Smoky and Crab exited the marsh, and found themselves on a large hill. The ground was covered with ordinary green grass, rather than the hazardous razor reeds that grew in the rest of Froggy Bottom Bog.

Smoky brightened. “Ah, excellent.”

Her horn glowed, and the filth on her coat vanished. She turned and repeated the process with Crab, but Smith shrugged when Smoky turned to her.

“No need, Smoky. Li'l dirt ne'er hurt anypony.”

Crab smiled. “Much obliged, Smoky.”

“Yes, well.” Smoky smiled and gestured ahead. “What makes us suspect the dragon is here?”

She started walking. Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet shimmered, and she fell out of sight.

“Smoky!” Crab leaped forward.

For a moment, there was only silence from below.

Then, “Gentlecolts, I have found the cave.”

“So. Ms. Punch.”

“Mm, yes?” Merry looked over the bed she was helping to carry. On the other side, Basalteus looked very concentrated.

“I notice quite a few paintings nestled in your home.”

“Oh, yeah...” Merry laughed. “Just a little, um--”

“They are very good.”

Merry blinked. “Oh! Thanks!”

“They remind me of the Everfree. What did you draw before you arrived in Ponyville?” Basalteus struggled to tilt the bed to fit through the doorway.

“Oh, um...well, actually, I always drew with those sorts of things.” Merry coughed. “Actually, I haven't drawn much since I came here.”

“Why not? It seems to me you could be quite successful as a professional artist. Though, admittedly, I cannot claim to be an expert on such matters.”

“Well, I...they haven't done so great.” Merry squeezed through the doorway. “Oof. And I haven't drawn much because I've been a little...um...”

“Drunk.”

Basalteus's tone was non-accusatory, but it still stung. “Sort of.”

Basalteus set the bed down with the rest of Merry's possessions—few as they were. “Have you shown Doctor Scratch any of this work?”

There he goes again. Why does he keep bringing her up? “Uh, yeah.” Merry felt herself blushing. Stop it. Stop it stop it-- “Yeah, she's not very interested in art, but she thinks I'm good. She hung one of my pieces in the club, actually.”

“Really. How do you feel about this?”

“W-well...” Merry turned away from the inquisitive rock farmer, heading back inside. “I mean, it's nice to get sales, but--”

“The house is clear. We can begin moving it. With two earth ponies, I am confident it will be doable—if difficult. Put the ramp in place.”

Merry did so, eager for any excuse to avoid eye contact. “--but, um, well, yes.”

Basalteus was silent for a moment as he headed around the side of the cottage. Merry shuffled around the other side, beginning to regret agreeing to the move.

“And,” Basalteus said, “how do you feel about Scratch herself?”

Merry began pushing against the house as she reeled from the question. Had she expected it to be that blunt? Surely not.

“Um...”

Basalteus joined in the efforts, and the house inched forward.

“Well, Scratch is nice. She's a friend. My...only friend, really.” Merry considered it. “I mean, Crab Apple is nice too. But I don't see him very often. And Dizzy...well, I really don't know what her deal is.”

“Hm.” The house scraped ahead. “Do you have a romantic interest in Scratch?”

Merry kept her face firmly facing away from Basalteus's curious gaze, to hide her flushed features. “Well...I guess, maybe? I...”

“If you are not comfortable answering, I will not continue.”Basalteus paused. “It might, however, be healthy for your emotional well-being to confide in somepony. If you do have feelings for Doctor Scratch, I am willing to keep this a secret. She wished for me to find out for her, but--”

He stopped. The house had hit some sort of block. “One moment.”

Basalteus walked around, and Merry heard him struggling with something.

She considered it, feeling frantic. What should she do? Part of her wanted to just take Basalteus up on his offer and tell him to shut up. But he was doing this for her sake. Like Dizzy and Crab Apple, he was just trying to help.

Part of her just wanted to lie. Basalteus would never know. Merry had learned over her stay in Ponyville that she was a very good liar.

Just then, Basalteus came back around. “A root,” he said. “It is removed.” He leaned against the house again, and they continued pushing. Merry felt and heard it hit the ramp and begin sliding up.

“I...” Merry cleared her throat. “Alright. I don't...have feelings for Scratch. I'm sorry. I just...”

Basalteus nodded. “I understand. Perhaps you know her differently, but she is not what I would consider a pleasant pony to be around.”

“No.” Merry laughed, a bit manically. “She...I mean, she really loves me.” Her voice went quiet again. “But she's just...she's...she's a horrible pony.”

And it was out. Merry froze. She half-expected Scratch to run out of one of the nearby bushes, crying.

But it didn't happen.

Merry had told somepony how she really felt about her 'best friend', and nothing felt different. It was just as upsetting. She tried to elaborate. “I mean, she only cares about me because she loves me. If she found out I didn't...well, let's say my free drinks would turn into very expensive drinks. Assuming she'd even believe it. I can see her going into denial. She's just so self-centered. Her father gave her whatever she wanted, and when she rebelled against him, he didn't have any idea  how to handle it, so he sent her to college, and then he died, and she came here, and she has all this schooling and all this money and the maturity of a....”

She stopped.

It didn't feel any better.

In fact, the farther she went, the worse she felt.

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I just...”

“I can take this to indicate you harbor no feelings of love towards her.”

“No. I mean, she's my friend...I guess...I mean, I don't want anything bad to happen to her. But I don't really like her. I just...ignore it, because it's easier.” Merry looked at the ground as she felt the house slide onto the rolling platform. “There is someone I might...have feelings toward, as you put it. I don't know. I don't really know how this works, to be honest.” She let out a tired giggle.

“If you wish to inform me,” Basalteus said, circling around again to make sure the house was stable, “I am willing to keep discrete about it as well.”

“I...no, I don't...” Merry sighed. “Well, you can probably work it out. Aren't many ponies in town I know.”

Basalteus came back around, and frowned at Merry. “You mentioned your list earlier. Is it Ms. Hooves?”

Merry blinked. “Wha—no! I mean, no. She's...well, I said I didn't know what her deal was because I really don't know if she's a friend or not. She just kind of followed me around a week or so ago.”

“Hm.” Basalteus turned away. “Crab Apple, then?”

Merry looked back at her old home, feeling bashful. “Well, yes. I mean...well, I don't know.” She shrugged, smiling slightly. “He's...nice. And he doesn't ask me questions. So maybe he's just a friend. I don't know.”

“Well...” Basalteus extended his hoof. “Your house has been successfully moved. All that must be done is to place a new platform.”

Merry blinked, coming out of her reverie. “New....” She looked up at the sky, eyes widening. “Um, it's sort of...”

“The sun is setting.” Basalteus shrugged. “Unfortunately, this took longer than expected. We will have to finish tomorrow.”

“But—where am I going to sleep?”

Basalteus frowned. “Well, there are several possible locations. You could sleep in your home, on the rolling platform, though it does not seem terribly safe to me.” He tilted his head. “I am going to be...out of town tonight. You may sleep in my home.”

Merry blinked. “Um...really? That's...convenient?”

Basalteus nodded. “Anyway, I must be going. Do you know where my farm is?”

“Um...”

Basalteus pointed north. “It is a short ways from where we are now. If you cannot find it, ask Crab Apple or Smoky Mirror.

Merry hesitated, then smiled nervously. “Thanks.”

“It is not a problem.” Basalteus began to walk away, then he stopped. He turned back. “There is one condition. I would appreciate if you would keep your drinking to a minimum. Despite the nature of my farm, the guest room bed is quite comfortable. Sleep should be an easy matter.”

“Oh!” Merry flushed bright red. “Yes! Of course! No drinky. That's fine. Thanks.”

Basalteus nodded again, then turned away and continued walking. “Good night, Ms. Punch.”

Crab carefully climbed through the illusionary ground. “Seems iffy...”

“Not to worry!” Smoky called. “It is perfectly safe her. In fact, it's only--”

Crab Apple felt a supposed foothold crumble. He fell with a cry...

...for about three feet, before landing on Smoky.

The next moment, he was up, coughing. “Alright, alright. Y'alright?”

Smoky got up, gasping. “Wind...knocked...”

“Sorry, Smoky.” Crab shrugged. “Ain't easy climbin' with hooves. Especially when y'can't see.”

“That is...alright...”

Smith landed easily besides Smoky, patting the unicorn on the back. “Buck up, Smoky. We've got a dragon t'chat with.”

Crab looked around. They were in a dirt burrow about the size of the Apple family barn. The entire place was barren, but a tunnel of equal size lay on the far side of the pit, leading onwards.

Smoky went first, being both the sneakiest and the most experienced with the invisibility glamor. She vanished from sight with a nod.

A few minutes went by. Smith and Crab listened in perfect silence—even in a tunnel this large, an echo could be hazardous.

Finally, Smoky blinked back into sight, right in front of them. Crab started.

Smoky smiled brightly. “She is beyond. I think you will wish to see this.”

The dragon was a dull purple, with a light yellow underbelly and green spines forming a line from head to tail.

The dragon was the size of Ponyville.

She was digging about in her hoard, looking frantic. Gold and gems flew every which way as she searched.

Smith cleared her throat. “'Scuse me?”

The huge dragon turned, and saw the three ponies. Her eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath--

“Wait!” Smoky cried. “We didn't steal them!”

“What?” Crab muttered.

“Quiet,” Smoky hissed back.

The wyrm glared at them. Then, she exhaled.

Green flame surrounded Crab, but it didn't feel hot. He blinked.

When it faded, he and Smoky had been teleported to stand right in front of the menacing creature. Crab looked about—Smith was nowhere to be seen.

“Why,” the dragon hissed, “should I believe you ponies?”

“Please, madam!” Smoky shouted. “We come with a direct message from the Princess herself!”

The dragon arched an eye ridge. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Smoky began pacing back and forth, looking very intent on the floor. “We were originally here to request your departure. But egg theft, as you might know, is a serious concern. Princess Celestia herself passed the law making it equal to foalnapping.” Smoky stopped pacing, and looked at the dragon. “Dragons are considered equal to ponies in Equestria. This means that when you enter these borders, there are no burned villages, no choking townsfolk.”

“Smoky,” Crab warned.

Smoky ignored him. “However, it also means you are protected by the same laws as an ordinary citizen. Meaning that, in times of trouble, the Princess herself will assist if it should prove necessary. These are not mere guidelines for wyrms to ignore, they are crucial to a dragon being able to pass through without being hunted, robbed or even, in the case of young or stunted dragons, outright captured!”

The dragon glared. “What are you saying, little pony?”

“I am saying that, while following Equestrian rules, you are protected by them as well. I am saying that a full-scale investigation,” Smoky swallowed, “will be mounted to catch whoever did this. You can even ask Celestia herself to confirm this, if you doubt the authenticity of my words!”

The dragon stared at Smoky. “My eggs have been stolen.” A tear slipped from the wyrm's eye. “Three eggs, taken right from underneath me. My children.” The dragon's eyes narrowed to slits. “The sort of beast that could accomplish this is not known to me, but it is not a weakling pony.” The dragon looked up. “Go ahead and conduct your little investigation. There is nothing to find. I will leave your little world—I know that this is what you had in mind, and I had planned to abide by Equestrian laws, small though they may be. I will leave your little world with its little laws, and find my children. Though they may be on the opposite end of the world, I shall find them.” The dragon leaped into the air, and latched onto the ceiling of her chamber. “You may loot the hoard, as I know ponies are wont to do, or you may leave it. I care not. Goodbye, little ponies."

She braced, then punched her head straight through the solid rock ceiling. She scrambled, then established a foothoold and began tunneling.

Soon, she was out of sight. All that could be heard was the grinding of rock. Soon, even that faded.

Smith stepped out from behind a nearby pile of gold. “Well,” she said, “good thing I din't 'ave to use this.” She gestured to the jewel-encrusted sword she was carrying. “Doesn't look like it's all tha' good in a fight. Just for bein' pretty, I'd guess.”

Crab looked up at the hole in the ceiling, then sighed. “Yeah...well, I guess that's that. Not really what I expected.”

Smoky nodded. “The poor creature...” She levitated her folded cloak out of her saddlebags, cleaned it, and donned it. “I suppose we might as well begone.”

“Yeah.” Crab turned away, and started walking back. “I guess.”

“Crab!” Smoky called. She gestured to the hoard. “You could end your monetary woes with ease. Undercut would not know what hit her.”

Crab looked at Smoky. He just felt tired. “I ain't gonna. Thanks, Smoky. It just doesn't feel right.”

Smoky deflated a little.

Crab walked over and wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders. “Cheer up, Smoky. Maybe she'll find her children. Who knows? Maybe she'll come back an' be so grateful we left her hoard alone, she'll donate it all to the town.”

“Except Undercut,” Smoky muttered.

“Except her,” Crab agreed. “See? Future's already lookin' bright.”

And the sun set and rose again, as it always did.

As the latter took place, Dizzy approached Hairtrigger's door.

She hesitated. Hairtrigger had made it quite plain she wanted to be left alone. This was a terrible idea.

But Dizzy had to know.

She raised her hoof...and knocked.

She lowered her head to the ground, and waited.

After a minute, the mail slot opened, and  two golden eyes met Dizzy's lopsided ones.

“Heartstrings,” Dizzy said slowly, “I'm really sorry, but I really just want to--”

The slot closed. The door opened.

This time, Hairtrigger didn't look angry. She looked a mixture of afraid and tired. “Hooves. I need you to leave me alone.”

Dizzy faltered. “I just--”

“You're friends with her. I'm sorry, I'm sure you're a very nice pony.” Hairtrigger's eyes narrowed, but she still didn't look angry. She looked too exhausted to look angry. Dizzy wondered if she'd been awake all night. “But you're the sort of pony who doesn't stick her neck out for anypony except hers and her own.”

Hairtrigger rolled her eyes. “And that's fine, whatever. But I'm not 'your own'. I'm Hairtrigger Heartstrings. You want to be friends with that...that pony? Fine. You want to just ignore what she does? Sure. But play it straight. Don't spend two years letting her...don't spend two years looking the other way only to turn around and try to help me as if we're pals. It doesn't work that way.”

She began closing the door. “Sorry. But if you come again, I'm going to tell your boss. Crab Apple's competing with her now. I'm sure he could do something to help me.”

The door clicked shut.

Dizzy looked at the door.

Then she sighed, turned, and walked away.

I really am sick of being useless.

In the morning, Basalteus entered the club again. Once again, Doctor Scratch was sleeping on the billiard table. This time, Basalteus awoke the pony with a gentle nudge.

Scratch squirmed. “No...'s too early...come back later...”

“Doctor Scratch.”

Scratch opened one eye. “Oh.” She rolled over and onto her feet, and leaped off the table. She took her shades and put them on. “Yeah?”

“I have spoken to Merry.”

Scratch's eyes were, of course, concealed, but her voice betrayed her excitement. “You have? Seriously?”

“Yes.” Basalteus did his best to conceal his lack of enthusiasm.

Fortunately, there was little difference in tone or expression, so Scratch didn't notice. “Great!” She stopped. The unicorn small shrug. “Not that I, uh...well, what'd she say? Well?”

“She...”

Basalteus paused. He was about to lie. It was not something he was comfortable with.

He could tell the truth, of course. Scratch might not be pleasant, but she deserved to know what the mare she loved thought of her. What Merry Punch was doing was heartless and self-serving.

What was he even going to say?

“She...has strong feelings for you, but...is uncertain what her family will think of it.”

Scratch stood perfectly still.

“She therefore wishes to hold off for now.”

Why hadn't he simply claimed ignorance? That Merry had been unsure?

Basalteus wasn't sure.

But he had a feeling the reason was guilt.

Scratch was being hurt. Perhaps he had wanted to assuage that hurt the only way he could think. She just seemed so desperate for good news.

And Scratch was happy now. She had a wide grin. “That...that...”

“Yes!” She began bouncing around in the club. Basalteus steadied a chair that was nearly knocked over by the unicorn's outburst.

Scratch was giggling like a young filly, hooting and cackling.

It almost made Basalteus feel a little better.

But it was a lie. So Basalteus nodded, bowed his head, and left the inn. Scratch was too jubilant to notice.

One night, about a week later, Smoky carefully floated above the murk of Froggy Bottom Bog.

She'd found a spell allowing her to touch and move clouds, and she was using this now. Unfortunately, biting insects were now very much prevalent, but at least she was staying clean.

The bog was pitch black, save for the blue glow of Smoky's horn. She therefore maneuvered with care—fortunately, chimeras were day-dwelling beasts.

Smoky arrived at the hill shortly. She hopped off the cloud and trotted over to a trio of cloaked ponies.

“You have them?” one muttered.

Smoky held up a hoof. “I know where they are. You have the bits?”

She heard one of them snarl. A sack lifted into the air and landed beside Smoky with a clank.

Smoky turned and spent a moment investigating. “This seems small.”

“You can't tell in the light, but those aren't bits.”

Smoky turned, frowning.

“They're platinum disks.”

Smoky relaxed, though only slightly. She increased the power of her spell, and cast another. It was true. “Alright. The eggs are buried beneath your feet.” She raised an eyebrow. “What's going to happen to them, by the way?”

“Pets.”

One of the ponies started slowly digging. His hoof pushed through into a burrow, and he looked down. “Yep. Purple and green.”

“Pets.” Smoky looked around. “I see.”

“This breed can cast a sort of teleportation spell. Very handy, very popular with certain nobles.”

“I see.”

“Funny, you coming alone.” The pony laughed slightly.

“Believe me, little pony, I'm very capable of defending myself. I do not recommend you try me.”

The pony shrugged. “Well, then.” He turned to his companions. “Get the eggs and let's go.”

The eggs slowly levitated out, one by one, and were each placed in a special sort of saddlebag on one of the ponies' backs. Once they were secure, the trio started to leave.

But one of them glanced back. “So, foalnapping dragon hatchlings, eh? I just feel you should know—refunds aren't exactly an option. When you get caught, it's not our problem.”

Smoky opened her mouth to respond...and the three ponies vanished with a flash.

Smoky looked down to her side, eyes wide. To her intense relief, the bag was still there.

She sighed with relief.

After a moment, the unicorn climbed back onto the cloud, levitated the bag by her side, and floated out of the swamp.

She only discovered when she arrived back at the Apple farm that the platinum disks had been swapped for bits.