Blurring Realities

Purple. That was certainly one word that could be used to describe his new lodgings.

It had been a quick walk and as luck would have it, well lit. It was quite the surprise to learn that Stone actually lived just outside of the projects, in a little apartment on the second floor above a baker's shop.

He had kept the older pony in his sights for their entire trip, hand gripping the hilt of his ghetto fabulous knife till he thought his knuckles would crack under the pressure.

Entering the home after the stallion, he was surprised by how spacious the place was. There was a kitchen, a living room, a main room that was either a living room or a family room given its size, and two doors leading to bedrooms on opposite ends. A third door led to a bathroom that had a surprisingly ornate tub of black porcelain. The sink and toilet shared the color.

No mirror strangely enough. Though he suspected why judging by his host's appearance. Still a fairly normal home.

The problem was, that aside from the wooden walls and floors, everything was in various shades of purple, save for the couch in what would turn out to be his room. That was covered in a golden blanket. Still, it was a miracle that the candle light hadn't given off a purple glow.

He was not going to complain. Already the warmth seeped into him, reminding him that he hadn't slept right in weeks. He struggled to ignore it. Instead, he tried to puzzle out how Mr. Stone was able to afford this fabulous place.

Turning he watched and waited on the stallion, the ball was in his court now.

Stone fiddled in the kitchen for a moment before turning to address him.

"N-n-now. I know this might be rude, but y-y-ou smell awful. I think it's best if you were to take a bath as soon as possible. W-when was the last time you washed?"

A good question, one Orion had to think about. When was the last time he had bathed?

"Uhh…not since…the fountains started freezing over at night. Didn't want to freeze to death trying to scrub my balls, and I doubted folks wanted to see a kid in the nude washing during the warmest parts of the day." He joked, "I think there are laws against that sort of thing."

He had been tempted to go back out into the wild to wash, but he feared another pack of those volk things laying in wait for him if he did.

A strange calmness washed over Stone then. Almost all the nervousness bled away as he hissed through his teeth. A look of disappointment etched on his face. And anger. Before Orion knew what was going on he was being pushed into the bathroom. He whipped out his knife, and the shoving stopped. It also helped that he growled out: "Don't you fucking touch me!"

"You are filthy. You could get sick. You need to wash, and wash properly." Surprisingly the stallion hadn't backed off, even if he had stopped pushing him, he still glared back. "Do you know what a 'bean' is?"

Vaguely he could remember something someone said on an eighth grade school trip to the local farm. Something about beans needing to be removed, but he didn't know what it meant. He had been too busy making goats faint in an attempt to show off. At the time he had just been discovering girls, and hadn't been paying attention to much of anything as he had been trying to talk to Vanessa Brand. First step was making her laugh. It didn't work.

"I might have heard it mentioned once. What does that have to do with you trying to force me into the bathroom? And might I add, which one of us smells like piss and cum?"

Stone ignored his jab, and told him what a 'bean' was.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." He muttered.

It turns out, Orion's tentative trust in the pony hooker was well placed.

During that first night, and with a fair amount of coaching from the other side of the bathroom door, the man turned pony learned some valuable lessons on pony genital care.

Health care in general for that matter. For the first time since his arrival, he was clean, his teeth brushed, till they bled but brushed, and he was warm. Despite himself, he slept like a stone. It wasn't till late the following afternoon when the smell of food woke him.

Once over his nervousness, Stone turned out to be an excellent host. His mannerisms reminded him strongly of his grandmother. The way he would cluck disapprovingly whenever he didn't finish his meal would either piss him off, or make him sad. The last time his grandmother had seen him was when they had cuffed him on tv. Or so his grandpa had told him.

He pushed those memories away.

Stone even ignored the fact that he needed meat. Only remarked how odd it was and picked up fish for him. He never pursued why it was odd, just went ahead and dealt with it. Though there was a moment that he watched as Orion bit into his fish the first time in front of him.

The look of speculation vanished in surprise. But instead of mentioning it, he just nodded and went about his own meal. Never bringing it up.

Life with the hooker horse was good. Just as he had promised, he never brought any Janes home with him. And while conversation was sparing between the two, the comfort of another seemed to do them both good. He found that he could tolerate the obscene amount of purple after all.

Bonus, he finally had access to real books. Orion's study turned bedroom actually held several bookshelves. It was another surprise that he could read the words in them, cheesy romance novels that they were. He hadn't had the chance at the library, and signs to shops only bore an image indicating what it might be for.

Life was finally looking up.

He even was contemplating Stone's advice on going to school. Not that he wanted to go through that bullshit again, but he needed to know this world's history, and find out what jobs might be available to him. He wasn't about to apply his original skill set here, that's what ended up landing him in this mess to begin with.

The other reason, and more important to him, is that he needed to learn about the people.

Already, he had learned that the wingless and hornless denizens of pony were known as Earth Ponies. The race was capable of manipulating to a great extent the earth beneath their hooves. Crops flourished at their tending. Walls and buildings stood firm at their shaping. Pretty cool stuff if it wasn't all blatant lies.

As the stallion had gone on discussing his races' unique traits, Orion realized just how much he didn't know. Ignorance might mean death if he wasn't extremely careful. It only seemed to reaffirm his need for knowledge.

Not to mention the prospect of there being magical schools meant he had best have the minimum beginning education if he wanted to learn more than just move things with his brain. And he would be lying if he didn't admit that the idea of wielding real magic had been a childhood dream of his. To be able to solve all his problems with a flick of his wrist. Or a thought as his magic was channeled through his horn.

By the tail end of winter, he was ready to tell Stone yes. Yes to going to school, of putting up with kids in order to improve his chances.

Of course the universe, God, fate, whatever, wasn't done fucking with him. He could only wish that there would be lube involved from time to time.

Orion placed the last dish in the cupboard. He had taken it upon himself to give back, at least a little, to the man, pony, who had taken him in. So he dusted, cleaned, and wiped down the house while Stone was "working" in the afternoons.

This also doubled as training for his magical skill in levitation. Already he was showing progress in manipulating multiple objects to complete each task individually. The matrix involved wasn't complicated, and just needed slight adjustments and a constant stream of magic to keep them going. It was a surprise to learn he had been subconsciously creating the framework for the spell without any sort of training.

But most unicorn foals did. Still him being human it was a big surprise.

It was like when he opened his eyes for the first time in this new world, he had trouble at first processing all the new information given to him with his enhanced senses. But living with the older pony had allowed him the practice he might not have ever gotten on his own.

He was sitting on the couch in the center of the living room, a book in hand, his attention only looking to be moderately on the activity in the apartment. Dust cloths flew through the air in his now familiar auras, cleaning various surfaces, dust and other particles also shared the same colors. They were lifted from the carpet and bare floor to be deposited into the waste bin.

The lie became apparent when noticing the sweat matting his fur. He was only barely paying attention to the book. The majority of his focus was on the cleaning, he was beginning to breathe hard with the effort. But he was sure he was making it look like the opposite.

A noise from outside startled him. Gently he put everything down and listened intently. It came again. A violent thudding, scuffling, sound and muffled noises coming from just outside the entrance to the apartment. It sounded like someone was pleading.

The sweat on his fur and skin turned very cold suddenly. Dropping the book on the floor he rushed to the entrance to check if the lock was still engaged, and to try to hear better. More scuffling, the sound of something heavy hitting something not. Stone's voice broke through, he sounded like he was talking with a mouthful of marbles.

"N-n-no please! He's just a foal! Y-y-ou can't do this!" Orion jerked back as the wall shook violently with impact.

Another voice rose from the hall. Female and the poster voice for Russian Bitch if he had ever heard one. "Then he will be easier to train you pathetic gav-no! You may have bought your freedom, barely, but he has yet to pay for his. You know the rules, yet you hid him from us." A grunt and the wall shook again. "Broad, get the door. Let's see our new little worker. From what Scout has told me, he's a rather cute little foal."

Orion didn't wait. Grabbing his jacket from the peg near the door he ran to the window to do something he had planned but never thought he would have to do after all this time living with the man. The handle jiggled and a muffled curse rose from the hall. Just as the first blow shook the apartment door, he shoved the window open and clambered out onto the short roof, his hooves slipping in the snow of the sleek stone shingles.

By the time the second blow struck, he was already pushing the window pane back down.

The crash came seconds later as he hid himself behind the brick work that jutted out, crouching low so the cloth awning of the baker's shop below, shielding him from anyone below. From anyone else's perspective from the ground, he had vanished. He hoped it would work for them too.

He strained to hear beyond the hammering of his heart. It sounded like World War Three was going off. He could distinctly hear the door in his own room crashing inward.

Minutes passed by as he jerked with each new destructive sound. Now coupled with shouting. Angry Russian shouting.

"WHERE THE BUCK IS HE!" KGB, because he didn't know her actual name, sounded just a little upset.

He shouldn't have, but he chanced a look into the main room. Stone had been dragged in and likely tossed to the floor in a heap. Standing over him was a very large earth pony mare in all leather armor. Metal plates had been sewn onto the chest and legs, as well as multiple smaller ones covering the stomach.

Bursting forth from his room was another, bigger mare. Dressed similarly she had a large ass hammer on her back.

Both mares looked similar. Pale green manes with yellow fur. One was darker than the other.

If the living room was any indication, the entire apartment was likely trashed. The couch had been tossed across the room and had put a hole into the bathroom wall, the kitchen looked like someone had fragged it.

"Jesus Christ! Like two wrecking balls…"

Stone's face was beaten in. But the heave of his chest indicated that he was still alive.

"Not in the room Scout said he slept in." The bigger mare said her voice was different than the first mare's, so he assumed that was Broad. The name certainly described her.

The shorter mare kicked Stone in the stomach, sending him skittering across the floor into the kitchen.

"Where is he?" She asked, dangerously quiet, she had stalked up to the downed stallion.

"I-i-i don't k-k-know….he sometimes...l-l-likes to l-leave...where he n-ever t-ells me…" He whimpered.

Orion's heart panged for him, the poor bastard didn't deserve all this shit, and he was lying through his teeth for him.

For a long moment, KGB stared down at him. "Broad Arm, go rouse Scout out of that bar on twelfth. If the flying rat is drunk, make him undrunk. Get him to search for the little mahl'-cheek. And if he protests, remind him just what he owes…"

The menace in her voice was heavy.

The fully named mare wasted no time, and stormed out of the destroyed front door, disappearing from sight. But not sound as her stomps reverberated through the building, even out here on the ledge.

"Why….why the colt, Moya…." Orion barely heard him.

"Moya? KGB is a better fit."

"Because, everypony pays their way. And Lady Violet Kisses, likes them young." She kicked him again before leaving. At the door she paused to look back at him once more. "If you try to hide him, all of this will seem like a fond dream."

With that she was gone.

Orion didn't move till he saw her head down an alley across the street, pulling a dark brown hood over her head.

Even then he didn't move for another ten minutes just in case. The chilling knowledge that they had someone who could fly scouting the air above for him sent a thrill of terror down his spine.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he looked into the window again. Stone was looking dead at him, and smiled. His mouth moved. Blood poured from his lips.

"Go. Hide."

Shame burned him as he clambered his way down a pipe and out an alleyway. He was getting really tired of running from his problems.

The rolled up scroll missed the waste bin. Again.

Moonlit Night groaned in defeat as her partner Yellow Tile cheered in triumph. The pair had come in that morning as any normal Tuesday. Cups of steaming coffee sitting before each of them at their respective desks.

At a little after ten, the day was shaping up to be the same as any other. Boring. Not that that was a bad thing. Boring meant all the little colts and fillies in town had homes, safe from hardship and abuse. Which meant their posting in the city was more of a precaution and tradition than anything actually necessary.

Wings for Foals was a pegasus run organization, though their members came from all races. They were under the parent organization, Hearts for Foals, and had chapters all over the known world.

Their duty was simple in thought if not always in execution. To ensure no filly or colt remained homeless, they did their job well. When their chapter had been opened in Stalliongrad some thirty years ago, it had been staffed by three dozen agents. The nation of Marussia had gone through a terrible civil uprising that cost the lives of thousands, and orphaned hundreds of foals.

The agent's of WFF worked tirelessly day and night to gather them all, and send them to viable orphanages around the world. Primarily in Equestria as they had the best facilities and adoption was guaranteed thanks in large part to the Princess's initiatives.

If not there, they were placed in loving homes pre-interviewed beforehand around the nation they were born into. After twenty years they had practically eliminated any need for their organization to even be there. It was one of the biggest accomplishments for the WFF, and sad too. There was barely a need for them now.

As a precaution, however, a small two pony contingent was left behind for any emergency cases that may crop up. More being available on call from Prance if necessary.

Sometimes they were necessary. Tragic endings did sometimes occur that left foals bereft of families. The agent's would step in and take care of them. But it was rare, and hadn't happened since Moonlit's tenure here. The two were in the second year of a three year service. In another year, two would replace them, and they would be assigned elsewhere. For now, the large building they quartered in, that stood against the need, sat quietly. Their organization hoped it would always remain that way.

"Looks like you're buying lunch, again." Yellow crowed at her.

The gray furred mare could only curse under her breath. This had been the seventh time in a row she had lost to the stallion. She could almost swear he was cheating, but there had been no air currents for him to manipulate in the small office, and he had no wings to stir the air. When did the unicorn get so good?

"Yay." She remarked sarcastically.

This is what they often filled their day with. The moment they woke up, they showered, dressed, and proceeded to clock in exactly at eight am.

At that hour it was still dark out, so they would wait till first light, one would remain at post while the other took to the air and hit up all the guard precincts in the city. Checking for any would be reports on possible orphaned foals. They had tried it the other way around. But he was on his hooves and traveled much slower than her. He had never been strong enough to use a teleportation spell, so they stuck to this routine instead.

Once every two or three months, they would check the outlying towns as well, and a guard on loan from the nearest station would remain as the pair was needed to cover all of the little hamlets that were in the surrounding area.

After that, they would come back to the office to file their report, and just sit around making up games to pass the time. Or read a book. She had been taking to naps rather religiously lately. The games ended up being a way to determine lighter duties. Such as determining who bought lunch, which she seemed to be losing a lot lately.

The bell chimed, both pairs' ears perking up and toward the sound. Yellow got up first, stretching his arms.

"Must be the mail. A little early, but I'll get it."

As far as partners were concerned, he was an amicable stallion. They would have likely been lovers by now had she not had more of an interest in mares. But he never judged, or pushed for anything. Nor did she for his own activities. He sure likes them older, that was for sure.

She adjusted her desk and went to get a food brochure for one of the various restaurants around town, when Yellow's panicked voice shouted for her from the front.

Menu forgotten, she rushed to the main hall, and skidded to a halt.

A diminutive stallion stood in the entryway. His clothes were torn, and there was blood staining his gray fur. His head looked to have suffered the worst of whatever beating he had received. Wrapped in bandages with his left eye swollen shut he looked like he needed the hospital, not the WFF.

"How can we help you…sir? If you have been the victim of domestic abuse, we can put you into contact with a local shelter." She rattled out quickly. Sadly, this was not the first time a situation like this had come up. For Stalliongrad, Marussia as a whole, domestic violence was a massive issue. Nopony really knew how to put a stop to it.

"N-no….I uh….I'm….I'm here to report an orphan. A colt." He whispered. If not for her hearing she might not have heard him at all. His voice was hollow, almost void of any kind of emotion.

She could feel her eyes nearly bulge from her head, and a quick glance at Yellow showed what likely was the same on her face. Disbelief and a fair amount of panic. "Please," she gently took the smaller stallion's arm and guided him to a chair, "tell us what happened."

It took awhile, but it eventually all came out and left them stunned.

They had heard of the Smirnoff crime syndicate before. They had their hands in a lot of illicit activities, including pony trafficking. But the story Stone told them was so much worse than either Equestrian born native could have imagined. As they got to a description of the foal, Yellow's head jerked back in surprise, "Hey, didn't we get a report about a missing colt last week that had that same description?"

They had. Moonlit scrambled from her chair and ran to their office.

A few months ago, an older mare by the name of Agnessa Proud had come in reporting a missing colt as well. Well the report had been filled through her daughter, Commander Altai Proud. They didn't get the report till a week ago and had yet to find any leads about it. The trail had long since gone cold, but the agents had not yet given up hope.

In the report, the mare had claimed that the colt had come to her shop everyday before heading off to school, or going to play on the weekends in the local parks.

Several interviews with the locals in the market also backed up the older mare's claims. But when they went to all three schools in the city, nopony had ever heard of the colt.

The mystery colt, Orion Falls, had never been found.

She came back with the file and asked Stone to confirm the description and name. It was a match. Yellow and Moonlit looked at each other. They finally had a location, the Zloye Mesto, Stalliongrad's notorious Death Alley.

Orion scowled as his stomach once again announced that it had been three days since his last meal. He was getting really tired of the constant gnawing reminder.

It has been nearly two weeks since he had bolted from Stone's apartment in the early morning. Spring had come, but it was still too cold to sleep comfortably outside. He had been spoiled with the few months he had spent in the cozy warmth of the hooker horse's home.

Two weeks of running and hiding in the night. Two weeks of careful watch of the sky for the asshole known as Scout. Turns out, Scout is a griffon, and he has amazing eyesight. Might be something to the name.

He had spotted him on more than one occasion, swooping down in an attempt to snatch him up. His last encounter with the flying demon ended with him cutting the bastard's face with his crudely made knife.

The memory of that shriek of pain kept him warm at night, serves the fucker right.

After that last tussle, Orion had taken to traversing the sewers. Not something he enjoyed considering there are literal shit mountains sitting in the larger chambers. The smell alone almost made him pass out.

He also found it difficult to open the manhole covers. It took both his magic and his limited physical strength to heave them off the hole and pull them back again. Despite his ability to handle multiple casts now, his strength was nearly as weak as he physically was. Only anger or panic seemed to give him more umph with his magic.

He idly wondered if there was a correlation between physical strength and magical strength as he watched the mouth of the alley for any movements.

The sound of skittering broke him from his musings. A rat had come out of one of the broken down buildings in the dead end alley he had taken residence in the past two days.

He checked the skies. No flyers. His stomach growled. This was going to be so gross.

"Please Mr. Rat, don't have a disease. And…umm sorry about this."

His horn flashed and before the poor fuzzy bastard had time to run back the way he had come he had snatched it up in his telekinesis and snapped its neck with precise pressure.

The rodent let out one strangled shriek, and was silent. Orion ignored the sudden queasy feeling. He had to eat. But feeling that sensation in his head was sure to last a while.

Slicing open the dead animal's abdomen, he pulled out the innards with a grimace. Then sheathing his knife, not bothering to wipe the blood off, and set to peeling back the skin and ate what little meat he could find on the poor beast. He wished he had a fire to at least cook the damn thing.

Two minutes into his meal, two ponies rounded the corner of the dead end alley he was in. The pair were in some type of uniform. Orion stared like a deer in the headlights, and so did they. One a skinny yellow stallion doubled over vomiting into the streets. His companion, a gray furred mare with a purple mane, her blue eyes bulged in shock and very obvious disgust.

Both wore navy blue jumpsuits with an emblem on the left breast, a patch of something could be seen on both right shoulders, but he wasn't sure what that acronym WFF meant. The emblem was simple yet stylized.

Both parties watched each other. Till the mare spoke up.

"H-hey there little colt."

Three thoughts flash through Orion's mind. One, that there were certain types of people who used that phrase, though a little different between them. Two, they had not been so much as surprised to find him here, but what he was doing. And three, they had been clearly looking for him as they were much too far away to actually know what gender he was.

He cursed and his horn lit up again. He used what was left of the carcass as a projectile and threw the rat at the yellow one's face since he seemed the most squeamish. He shrieked and ducked for cover.

All hell broke loose at that point. The mare dove for him instead of dodging out of the way of his bloody missile. He danced just out of reach and tossed random debris around, his panic giving his magic strength.

"Fuck you! Ya rat bastards! You'll never take Major Benson Winifred Payne alive!"

He had absolutely no idea why he was screaming out fictional movie characters' names, but it did it's job in bringing the pair up short whenever they lunged for him. He kept it up, going from a terrible Shaggy impression, to a passable Bugs Bunny snide remark.

The mare was the first that managed to snatched him up; she had flown over a hastily thrown bundle of clothing wire as he had dodged a slow grab by the yellow unicorn. He didn't hesitate, and yanked the knife out again and stabbed her with it. The dull thunk of metal meeting metal under cloth echoed in the night surprised them both. She was wearing body armor under that jumpsuit.

The shock of being stabbed fortunately was enough to get her to drop him. Scrambling to his hooves he hit her with a barrel that had been lying against a crate.

All this magic useage and the lack of sleep, was starting to put a strain on him. His horn throbbed slightly, and he was developing a headache. He had to get away before his magic, and his strength, failed him.

He was never going to make it to a manhole cover. It was too heavy for one, and those two thugs were far too close to really trust his short legs to get him there.

He made a mistake and took a step toward the building he had come from instead, taking his eyes off the pair. The stallion struck, dragging him to the ground and trying to pin his arms, Orion's knife flailing about ineffectually.

When it looked like it was over, he attempted his tried and true method. Verbal confusion.

"Knock knock!" He screamed out.

A quizzical look flashed over the yellow stallion's face as he got within arms reach with a strange black ring. "Who's there?" The unsure masculine voice replied. Another surprise, he wasn't Russian.

"Your mother was a whore!" Using his free hand, the one with the knife was pinned, he punched him in the eye.

The pony reared back and got to his hooves, hollering in pain that ended abruptly when Orion hurled the large crate that had been with the barrel at him.

He hoped he hadn't accidentally killed the man, he didn't want murder on his conscious even if this duo was up to no good. Wasting no time, he bolted for the building once more. Unfortunately the gray one was waiting for him. She grabbed his wrist with the knife held in the hand, and slung him around to face plant the ground.

Classic police take down move.

He strained to work his magic again, but suddenly he lost his grip on a small grate to a sewer drain. Something had settled around his horn and he suddenly lost a sense of the world. Not completely, just as if his ability was bottled up somehow.

"Whew, I've never been a part of a rescue like this." Chirped the lilt voice of the mare currently over him.

"Rescue? This was a fucking rescue?!" He chose not to outwardly respond, instead glaring at her with his left eye.

"Oh don't look at me like that." She chuckled. She called over her shoulder, "Hey, hornhead?! Ya still alive?"

A groan was the only response she got. She just laughed even harder.

He growled in frustration, and looked around him for anything he could use to get this bitch off him. That's when he spotted her.

Moya, a.k.a. KGB, was standing just inside the shadow of an alley across the road. Behind her was Broad Arm. They were both glaring daggers, and adjusting weapons.

When their eyes met, she smiled, and took a step forward. His heart sank.

A team of twelve ponies and griffons in armored uniforms burst from around the corner, skidding to a halt just into the alley on their side. Past them he could just see the mob pony pull short of stepping fully out, the scowl returning to her features.

"You said to wait about ten minutes, but we heard what sounded like a battle. What the buck happened?"

Just when he thought he was safe. He knew that voice. Agnessa's daughter. Commander in charge of the gate the night he snuck into the city and caused the deaths, inadvertently, of four people so many months ago. At this rate he was going to die before anyone could charge him.

"Nothing, we managed to rescue the colt!" The mare on top of his back replied far too cheerily.

A pause.

"I'm sorry, but is that all you're gonna say? It looks like a Celestia damned warzone went on here!" She fumed back. "What happened here, Agent Night? Why is your partner sporting a black eye?"

The now named Agent recounted his capture, she had a good memory. In that time he was hauled up onto his hooves. Days of not eating and getting enough sleep finally hit him as the adrenaline rush fled his body. It was all he could do to stay upright. She held him up easily enough.

Exhausted as he was, he paid attention, and he was shocked to learn that they had known about him for months. Agnessa, bless her heart, had filed a report when he had stopped visiting her in the eastern market.

Stone was the one that helped them pinpoint where he was. He supposed that the poor stallion was scared for him so badly that he had ended up going to the authorities. He wanted to be angry, but if KGB and her crew being here was any indication, then he was grateful. Luck. He was starting to think that was his real talent in life. No matter how fucked he seemed to be, it always ended up in his favor somehow. Even if he could't see it at that particular moment.

Speaking of luck, the alley across the road was now empty. Hopefully, they would give up now, and he could figure out how to get outta this mess after a little rest. The stallion known as Yellow had finally come around. His left eye now had a shiner the size of a golf ball. Orion grinned maliciously. That had been a more solid hit than he first thought.

Before long he was shuffled into a carriage and whisked away.

Moonlit could only blink in shock again as she went over the notes from the interview and medical exam, for what felt like the hundredth time. From what they could drag out of the colt, he had been the thief the guard had searched so hard for, for months.

Normally, a pickpocket is an easy pony to capture. Their arrogance at avoiding detection almost always gave them away in the end. Orion had a successful career for almost a five month spree, and he avoided their traps. Apparently, he had been onto the guard the moment they had started setting up decoy coins for him to easily snatch. Commander Altai Proud had come back with nearly six coin purses worth of marked duncas that had been left sitting at the bottom of an eastern market fountain. None of the other sites they had found had indicated who the perpetrator was, and observations on those places yielded nothing. He had never gone back for them.

She was understandably upset. But Moonlit was impressed.

No amount of prying could get him to tell them how he knew, either. He only bragged openly, a cheeky smile that only made the insults he hurled at them regularly both funny and somehow worse.

When asked about his family however, he clammed up tighter than a bureaucrat on payday. He only said he had been alone for almost a year. And that was it.

Commander Proud had tried to threaten him with imprisonment, but he had just laughed in her face. It was clear he was not an ignorant little foal. Or he was now just so ballsy after finally being rescued that he just flat didn't care. Either way, the mare had to be dragged from the room. He had an infuriating manner about him.

The exam had made this case go from the already bizarre situation, to concerning.

He was healthy, if a little sleep deprived and malnourished. But his dental examination sent one tech scurrying from the room in a panic. He had canines. A blood test confirmed what the teeth suggested. The little pony ate meat. Needed meat in fact. That certainly explained the rat. She would have nightmares over that one.

The medical examiner wanted the null ring removed to test his magical ability, but that had been shot down quickly. There was no telling what he might be able to do in a hospital room full of sharp objects. The gleam in his eye when it had been suggested all but confirmed her fears. Yellow had paled visibly.

Moonlit instead explained what happened the night of his capture. And the examiner outright refused to believe it. Her words: "It is impossible for a pony his age to control that many skeins at once. They barely have enough wherewithal to lift a teacup without dropping it as it is. They do not have the control of an adult."

She remembered watching the colt's eyes widen as he watched from his place on the examiner's table. Her and Yellow decided not to push the issue, but remained firm on the events.

She took a drink of coffee, her eighth cup that evening. It had been six days since they had rescued him from the streets, and she hadn't been getting much sleep as she and Yellow alternated between trying to find any family he might have had, and watching him. Since his rescue he had made only one escape attempt.

Captured him was a better phrase. He acted like this was more of an arrest than a rescue. He resisted every act of kindness, and after the first attempt at escape that had actually almost succeeded, they had been forced to confine him to one of the cells instead.

There was one last glaring irregularity. Comparing him to any other foal his age was impossible. The blood and teeth examined put him roughly around five or six. Closer to six they assumed. But he acted like he was of an age with everypony else that had interviewed him. Foals his age would have a hard time speaking more than a few words with consistent understanding. Also they wanted to play and do foal-like things.

Orion Falls shared none of those traits.

In fact if you were to hear him and not see him, you would think you were talking to a young stallion. Wise beyond his years, but a young stallion all the same.

And one last thing. He did not sound Marussian. Oh there was a bit of the accent in his voice, but he sounded like he originated from Equestria instead. Though when quizzed on the possibility, he only remarked: "Heard of it, never fucking seen the place."

His language was absolutely terrible. He spoke clearly and often used big words, but the tone and verbage were crude beyond belief for one so young. He never used proper pronouns either. Always "everybody" or "someone". It was very reminiscent of the way griffons spoke to one another.

She shook her head and finished filing her copy of events. Both agents felt it best to heavily redact the information in the report. The original would remain here, and a complete copy would be sent to headquarters in Trottingham. But the file that would accompany him would be heavily censored. It would give him the best chance of finding a home once he got into Equestria proper.

That had been another decision. With Stone's report they had learned that the Marvata family, a branch of the Smirnoff crime syndicate, had been pursuing the colt for more than a week.

Family was a mockery of what they truly were. Thugs and murders loosely tied together, spread across Marussia. Even having some members working in Prance and Equestria itself, though their movements there were heavily monitored in the latter.

In light of this knowledge, they had decided sending him to Equestria, rather than trying to find him a home in the country and putting him in even greater danger of being snatched up by the Marussian mob again, was the best thing for him. She had finally won as well. Like everything else, they decided who would do what, through competition. After a tight race she had eked out the win, if barely. So she would be escorting him to Manehattan at the insistence of HQ.

The tickets were already purchased for the flight, an airship would be arriving for it's monthly circuit by tomorrow afternoon. The timing had been fortuitous as she wasn't sure her and Yellow could contain the little tartarisian much longer.

Orion stepped into her office, that should not have been possible for two reasons. One, it was the middle of the night and he should be asleep. Two, his current residence was in a cell. He held up a crooked nail.

"It's not that hard to pick a lock when the tumblers are so big." He held up a hand before she stood. "Not gonna run. Honestly, leaving now would likely get my ass beat. Not by you, but those assholes I've caught watching the building. Twice now by the way, you should do something about that before they get bold."

She knew who he had meant, but had been a little surprised that he knew about them as well.

Commander Proud had been the first to notice, and had set a guard force to watch the building. They would remain till she came back from Equestria to insure her partner's safety. Being a stallion alone was always a risk, worse now that the mob was involved.

Her exasperated look seemed to wash off him like water off a duck.

"I would ask where you found that, and how you learned to pick locks, but I doubt you'll tell me. Can I ask what you want then?" She folded her arms beneath her breasts, a frown creasing her features.

"I want the fuckin' ring off me. It's starting to itch, and I've had a headache from the pressure the last two days. So I'll make a promise, a deal if you would. You take it off, and I won't run. I won't make it far anyways with things as they currently are." He fairly growled, his teeth flashing in anger and giving her more than a little shiver.

She was silent a minute, odds were he was telling the truth. It seemed he either didn't answer, or spoke the truth when asked. Hopefully, Yellow wouldn't berate her over this.

"Come here." He leaned forward and she plucked the ring off, and he sighed in relief.

"Oh thank Christ." A name for an individual he had refused to explain during earlier conversations, though it seemed to hold some religious connotations with how much he invoked the name. She only shook her head ruefully as she watched him rub at the place the ring was.

"I gotta ask. How the hell do those things work? I should've been able to yank the damn thing right off, but it feels like it was stuck on with Gorilla Glue. So, spill the beans."

Maybe a little conversation would ingratiate herself to him, and he might open up more on their two week trip across the ocean.

"What in Tartarus, is Gorilla Glue?"

"Null rings aren't truly made entirely of null stone. I'm not sure what goes into it but there is binding rock on the inside. See here, you can see the difference of material on the inside." She pointed at the dull gray stone ring, running a finger along where it seemed to suddenly change to black on the inside. "Everypony calls it 'Binding Rock', but it's actually a chemical reagent that activates when only one magical signature is present. Creating a perfect seal. When another magical signature touches it, it deactivates temporarily allowing for its removal, but without another magical source, the ring will stay on. Keeps unicorns from escaping their restraints. The chemical has a lot of uses outside of null rings as well. Such as airships that you and I will eventually be flying on tomorrow."

"Huh, a chemical reagent that is activated by magic. Now that's interesting…maybe it functions kinda like a magnetic lock." A speculative look fell on his face. It was seriously cute. Though again his wording was confusing.

"What under Celestia's Sun is a magnetic lock?" The colt just raised more and more questions, speaking of things she had never heard of.

"Well now that I've given you something to think about, why don't you go on back to bed? We have to be up early so we can make it to the landing site outside the city."

He gave a look that she couldn't read before shaking his head. "Fine, how long is this trip gonna take?" He asked, making his way to her door.

"Roughly two to three weeks, the weather will determine whether or not we get there sooner. We should arrive at the end of May, maybe the beginning of June." She replied, shuffling the paperwork.

"Jesus, can we please pack some reading material?” He muttered heading for the door.

She just laughed and shooed him out the door. Of course they were gonna have reading material, she wasn't about to be that bored. Though she was beginning to have fantasies of finding a partner among the crew for the trip.

When said airship came into view, he had honestly been expecting a dirigible. Instead, it was a literal ship with strange slender balloon-like structures supporting it from above.

The ship reminded him of a picture he once saw in his seventh grade history book. The Santa María, just longer. Both the forecastle and sterncastle rose several feet above the main deck. Rigging ran from the ship to the cloth fabric that held gas, or heated air, he didn't know which.

There were no masts, except for the little stick at the front, the bowsprit if he remembered correctly, which also had lines running to and from the balloons as well. His nautical construction knowledge was really being put to the test today.

There was the surprise of somewhat modern engineering attached to the sides and bottom of the ship, four engines that looked like tubes with rear facing propellers. There were no pistons, no heat sinks, nothing familiar to what he knew a prop driven engine should have.

All in all, it was a Franken-ship.

No wonder it was gonna take them so long to get anywhere, there was absolutely nothing aerodynamic about the lumbering hulk. And as it came in for a landing, nothing the crew did to speed the process convinced him otherwise.

They had been escorted out to the landing site by a team of twenty guards. Commander Proud was with them, insisting on making sure this was done right.

Her mother, not too much of a surprise to Orion given her track record of kindness, had shown up at the rescue he had been staying at that morning, fussing and hugging him. Being a grandma basically. She chastised him for running away and exclaimed what she would have done had she found out beforehand that he was an orphan.

He endured it all with as much grace as he could. She had been one of the first to show him kindness after all, so he would be an awful shithead if he protested. Besides, more and more he was being reminded of his own grandmother through her. It was nice.

Stone never showed up. Orion only hoped he got outta this mess alright. If the stallion had any sense, he was already a long way from Stalliongrad hooves a-churning.

As they left the building, he spotted Moya and only her, sitting at a cafe half a block down from the WFF. She was drinking what he assumed was coffee and glaring at the group as they passed.

In a bout of pettiness, when their eyes met and she gave a sneer, he ran a thumb across his throat and pointed right at her. The sneer left her lips, her eyes wide in surprise. Orion had already made plans to return here once he was grown. This mare and her goon troop had made the last few weeks of his life here hell. He would return the favor, somehow.

Soon the procession had made it out of the city and traveled a mile or two, he never was a good judge of distance, and now they watched as the ship came in on final approach.

The vessel finally came down in the wooden cradle that had been set up with some sort of cloth cushion with a solid thump. In a feat of surprising engineering, the two props at the bottom of the vessel folded like claws in on themselves.

That was seriously cool.

It may behoove him to ask as many questions as he could during the trip. Plans began falling into place within his mind. He could revolutionize this industry. The more he thought, the more he realized something profound. He just might have found his niche in horse society.

It didn't take long for cargo to be offloaded and new goods be pulled aboard. During that time his one escort and him said their goodbyes, he got another hug from Agnessa, and of course some baked goods the mare had cleverly hidden from view. She was such a grandma.

They were both shuffled aboard shortly before take off. They shared a cabin, much to his disgruntlement, and surprised that his guard shared the same sentiment. Mumbling something about wishing the ship had been another.

He didn't have much, just some books he had managed to snag from the small library in the building he had stayed in the past week, as well as two changes of clothes, not much could be procured for him in such short notice but at least he had plenty of underwear.

She had a much larger bundle of what he suspected was the same as his own. Their cabin had another room with a bathroom setup, including a standing shower, that caused him to pause.

While there had been rudimentary plumbing within Stalliongrad, he had noticed when peeking into buildings that there was a distinct lack of modern washing facilities. Just a copper tub in what could only be assumed was a bathroom.

To suddenly see a mostly modern shower was a bit jarring. He shrugged, at least he wouldn't be a nasty mess for the trip.

When Moonlit wasn't looking he slipped outta the room and headed for the front of the ship. Standing at the railing of the forecastle, he watched as they took to the air. The thrum of the ship's engines engaging, vibrated through his hooves.

From the moment he stepped into this crazy fucked up world of horses and legends he could not tell what was coming next. In that moment, with sun just over the horizon at his back, he made a promise to himself.

"Knowledge. If I don't fucking learn I doubt I'm gonna survive."

He would learn, he'd learn all he could of everything, be a jack of all trades. He turned from the view as they began to pick up more speed. His first stop was the engine room, he wanted to know how those engines ticked.

He grinned. "Let Moonlit chase my ass all over the ship."

His cackle startled a mare while she was rolling up a mooring line. He dashed to the decks below, beginning to formulating questions.