Wednesday, April 29th, 909 AB (18 days later)
Location: Baltimare railway station
Later Afternoon / Early Evening

Barely holding back a yawn, Heavy watches as a dozen thick, deep red shrubs are loaded onto the train. Each one is as tall as an earth pony at the eyes and, judging by the workers’ surprised looks when they lift them, heavier than a normal plant should be.

Cure and his dam had already loaded his antivirus trees themselves, so the purpose of the other twelve isn’t clear. The fillies don’t seem to know what the story is with them; not even Dawn, which is strange since she’s usually aware of whatever crazy thing Cure has come up with.

“Those aren’t the antivirus trees,” Glacial notes. “Why are there so many of them anyhow?”

“Dunno,” Dawn answers with a shrug. “He said they’re ‘Cure shrubs’ but didn’t explain how they work.”

Rising stares for a few more seconds before pointing out, “But they don’t have any fruit on them. I know it sounds silly, but they look a little… scary, almost.”

“It’s Cure. They’re probably some kind of guard tree or something,” Drift suggests. “Or they’re the actual virus trees and the others are decoys. You know he’s paranoid as Tartarus. He probably thinks somepony will try to steal them again. Or maybe those antivirus ones are some kind of trap and the shrubs are the real ones.”

“Trap?” Starlight asks.

Drift shrugs her wings and gives the young mare a nod. “I bet the fruits are some kinda poison that paralyzes you or makes you pass out.” With a snorted laugh she adds, “Or makes you poop yourself. That sounds like something he would do.”

The suggestion gets a round of giggles from the group and even Solar agrees with her. “I’m betting on paralysis just because he would be really ticked off somepony were to get poop on his tree.”

“Plus he would want to… question them,” Dawn adds, cringing at the same time. There’s a moment of silence among the group where they envision what being questioned by Cure would be like after being caught trying to steal another one of his trees. The collective full body shudders tell Heavy that they all came to roughly the same conclusion: Unpleasant.

“But why are there so many of them?” Glacial asks again. “And they look heavy, too.”

Sadly, no answer is forthcoming, so the group continues watching as the blue colt follows the loading attendants on the train, probably to make sure nopony messes with anything. Their confusion only grows when, as soon as the workers leave, they see him running a wire of some kind. Only the pegasi can really see what he’s doing.

Glacial is a little concerned; he seems to be, somehow, cutting a small hole in each car. He disappears inside the car for a minute, then runs back out, hooking the wire up to the previous car. The wires must be vines of some kind because once they’re connected he makes them each run down and under the platforms between cars so they’re out of sight. As far as she knows he can’t do that with anything but plants.

She tells the group, “He looks like he’s putting some kind of vine or cord between each of the cars. Dawn, what’s he doing that for?”

“It could be anything,” she says. “Drift’s probably right though. It’s more than likely a trap of some kind. I bet he can sense everything through those somehow.”

They watch for a while as Cure moves from car to car, wiring up the last eight cars of the train. Once he’s done with the last one he hops down off the train and approaches the group. They had all they needed in their saddlebags, double checked by parents before they took the train from Golden Hills, so nopony needed anything loaded.

It was interesting to Heavy to see how each family said goodbye. Granted they’ll be back in a few days, but for most of them this was the first time the foals would be away from their parents aside from a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The pegasi, matching up perfectly with their flighty stereotype, quickly gave the three a nuzzle and were taking off for home not ten seconds later. The parents were probably already home before the group even boarded the train to Baltimare. It struck Heavy as a little weird that they didn’t just fly here to have the extra few minutes of together time, but that’s just how most pegasi are, he figures. Traveling is just part of life, his mom says, and as long as you’re careful it’ll all work out.

The single parents on the other hoof… they were a little more clingy and doting. Coast, Ferric, and Rising’s dams all but chased after the train just to have a few seconds more to say goodbye. It seemed a little overly dramatic and silly to the gray colt, but he supposes that’s just normal when a mare only has one child to pour all their love into.

Of course Sapphire’s parents weren’t like that. From the way her sire was eyeing her dam’s rear, Heavy suspects they’re kinda glad to have some time to themselves. He can’t blame them. Sapphire is nice enough, but she can be a little much at times, too.

His and Dawn’s parents were basically an average of the group. Emerald looked a little sad even if she didn’t cry this time. At least she can take solace in the fact that two adults are going with her little filly. In fact, Solar is a certified guard now, so in a way Dawn has a legitimate military escort. Starlight is coming too, but Heavy isn’t terribly confident in her capabilities as a bodyguard.

His own parents gave him what he feels is the appropriate amount of affection. Then they insisted he give his sisters some love and said their goodbyes with one more round of hugs and kisses before letting the colt escape with his masculinity intact. No crying, no chasing the train, and no other silliness, thank Celestia.

As Cure gets close to the group he calls out, waving them closer. Unsure exactly where they’re supposed to be, everypony makes their way to the colt hoping for some clue as to what’s going on. “Hey everypony,” he greets. “Why aren’t you all on the train already? Everypony but my mom… Title, I mean, is onboard.” He pauses and looks around, asking “Where the hay is she anyhow?”

“Savvy had to go potty,” Dawn answers. “She took her on the train a little bit ago.”

“What?” he asks, looking around confused. “Damn I guess she walked right past me. Whatever, let’s go.”

Drift doesn’t hesitate to huff in annoyance at him. “You never told us what car or cab we’re in, doofus! How were we supposed to know where we’re even supposed to be?!”

“That’s what my mom was supposed to be doing!” he shouts in exasperation. “Besides, we don’t have any cabs-”

“WHAT?!” she shrieks, cutting him off mid sentence. The yell startles everypony around her, including her sister who scowls at the shorter girl and cuffs her with a wing.

Heavy almost takes a step back at the fury that briefly flashes across Cure’s face. His gaze never leaving the purple filly, he points a hoof behind himself at the second to last car of the train and, through gritted teeth, growls back, “We don’t have a cab because I paid for the entire frickin luxury car!”

The explanation hits Drift like a boulder and, under his blistering glare, she wilts with barely a mumbled “oh” before slinking in a wide arc around him and quickly boarding the train. The car Cure apparently rented doesn’t have doors for boarding and unboarding, so she has to get on the train several cars forward from it, the same as the attendants that were loading his plants.

Nopony else moves a muscle until he lets out a sigh and hangs his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get enough sleep last night. Nerves, ya know? I’ll apologize to her too. Let’s try to have a good time, everypony. I promise I’ll be fine once I get some sleep. A big ol snuggle pile will do the trick, I bet.”

Ferric, shockingly, moves before anypony else. In a bold move none of them expect from the shy filly, she walks up to the exhausted looking colt, gives him a long nuzzle from his snout all the way behind his ears, then wraps him in a tight hug. Cure seems to almost melt into the embrace which is quickly joined by all the other fillies that have an interest in him.

Heavy figured Sapphire would have joined in, too, but instead she’s just watching with an odd smile he can’t place. The girl is a bit weird most of the time, so that’s not a huge surprise.

“Thanks, ladies,” Cure sighs out, nuzzling each in turn. As the pile breaks up he tilts his head towards their car and says, “Well, all aboard, I suppose. The car is really nice. I think you’ll all be suitably impressed. Not as nice as the hotel will be, though,” he adds with a mischievous grin. “Sorry, Team Double-S,” he says to Solar and Starlight, “there’s no private bedrooms on this car, just a thin divider and drawn curtains. You’ll have to hold it in until tomorrow.”

“I think we’ll get by okay,” Solar deadpans, ignoring Starlight’s faux disappointed look.

Title pokes her head out of the train and shoots Cure a sheepish smile explaining, “Sorry, babe. Savvy had to potty and I kinda forgot to tell your friends where to go.” Cure lets out another sigh as he turns and heads in.

The small herd follows Cure as he leads them onto the train. The first car they get on is some kind of lounging car with small couches and tables all on one side so the opposite is clear for everypony to make their way to the back of the train. The next two are sleeper cars with cabs lining the left side (when facing the rear of the train) and a hallway down the right. Next is the private luxury car Cure rented, then the final car of the train is for storage and luggage.

Glacial notices the vine Cure had put up subtly crammed into the top corners of the cars. It runs the full length of the hallway and its color is altered to blend in, making it barely noticeable. “Cure… what were you doing?” she asks, pointing a wing up at a length of it.

“It’s a security system,” he explains. “I was hooking up the cars so I can tell what’s going on if anything weird happens. Since they’re made of metal the unicorn targeting aura doesn’t penetrate at all. I’m betting whoever took my trees will try again, ya know?”

She looks up towards the corner of the car where the cord enters and asks, “It looks like you cut holes in cars though… won’t they notice that after we leave?”

“I doubt it,” he says as they approach the luxury car. “I plan on fixing it when we arrive in Canterlot anyhow. The metal I removed is still hanging up there and I sealed the area around the cord with a glue-like substance, so it’s not like it’ll leak. When I take it down I’ll just hit it all with a Mending. They’ll be good as new,” he insists, opening the door to the car he rented and waving everypony in.

The sharp intake of breaths can be heard as the foals get their first look at the luxury car. Towards the front of the car is a set of bathrooms, one more compact than the other. The larger one looks big enough for a huge earth pony, though it would be awfully cramped. After the bathrooms is a tiny kitchen area with a sink, a compact refrigerator, and a few basic things like a toaster and tea kettle. Next is a storage closet-like area with Cure’s two antiviral creations taking up most of the space.

After passing by the “utility” area the car looks like a fancy studio apartment. The walls are covered in ornate wood paneling. Thick, rich drapes are pulled back to reveal the large windows. The floor is even carpeted, and just one step on it reveals it to be as soft as a cloud. The car has extravagantly furnished sections for, from front to back, dining, lounging, and sleeping.

The dining area won’t be quite large enough for everypony at once given the size of the group. Two tables each have room for six foals or four adults comfortably. A bench is folded up on each side of the table that, when lowered, gives foals or shorter pegasi a boost up.

The lounging area has couches against the side walls and end tables between them for drinks or plates to sit on. The couches are aligned with the windows so passengers can comfortably sit and enjoy the passing scenery.

The sleeping area will be a little cramped, unfortunately. Again, the luxury car is designed for a family, but with ten older foals, two young fillies, seven adults, and one infant the capacity of the four beds will be fully utilized. All of the beds are on the left side of the train and, as Cure explained, are little more than a closet with a small area to walk in, a bed, and a curtain for a door.

The beds are barely large enough for three adult earth ponies. Deed, Vines, and Title will take one with Savvy’s crib, Starlight, Solar, Dawn, and a couple of the girls will share another, then Lemon and Amethyst and their daughters will be in the third, and all of the remaining foals will pile together in the last.

It’ll be snug, but sleeping in a big pile is not a problem for ponies.

Cure’s parents have already made themselves comfortable in the lounging area. His sire is laying across his dam’s withers protectively, cheek pressed lovingly against the top of her head. The other three mares are cuddled together reading on the next couch over, each with a glass of wine between their forelegs. Cure’s sisters are entertaining themselves and Savvy with some of the dolls he made for them.

Finding Drift on a couch staring out a window by herself, Cure immediately hops up next to her, wraps her in a hug, and, Heavy assumes, apologizes for snapping at her while nuzzling into her cheek. As far as the gray colt is concerned she’s as or more guilty; she did interrupt him before he even finished explaining, after all. Regardless of who’s at fault the pair seem to make up quickly enough and, within a few minutes everypony is running around the car checking out every nook and cranny.

Heavy notices that, just like the previous cars, the vine Cure puts up comes in, runs along the top corner of the ceiling, but then trails down the wall and into one of the shrubs that were loaded. Looking around, it occurs to him that four of the plants are completely gone; their empty pots are stacked in the closet with his antiviral trees.

After about half an hour Cure hops up onto a couch and whistles to get everypony’s attention. Once the group gathers close enough to hear him he explains, “Alright, everypony. The attendants said we’ll be departing in about two hours. We get to board early because,” he waves around at the car, “you know. Throw enough money at ‘em and they’ll let ya do almost anything.

“Any food or drinks you all could want are part of the price for the car and we can be served whenever we want. I arranged for dinner to be served here, that’s why we didn’t stop for food on the way. If, later, you decide you want a snack or you’d like to sample something all you have to do is tap that ‘Service’ panel up by the door and order it,” he explains, pointing back from where they had all come when boarding. “I prepaid for gratuities, so you don’t need to tip either. Just be nice to the ponies who’ll be bringing us our food, please.”

“What’s with the plants?” Coast asks, motioning with her head to the one beside Cure. It’s the same one that the vine from the other cars runs into.

“Ah… I’m glad you asked,” he starts, idly scratching at his chin with his left hoof. “So, as many of you may have noticed, I like to be prepared for any eventuality.”

Title gently interrupts. “He’s paranoid as fudge and thinks somepony will try something.”

Cure scowls at his mother but doesn’t deny it. Huffing, he turns back to the group and begrudgingly nods. “Frankly I explored other ways to travel to the capital but I didn’t want to show off anything too crazy before I had my meeting. I could get us there faster and cheaper by other means but they would draw significantly more attention.”

“More than a luxury train car full of foals?” Solar asks.

“Like ya wouldn’t believe, son,” Deed answers with a wry chuckle.

Everypony looks curiously back to the colt but he just shakes his head no. “I promise I’ll share more later, but as far as the plants are concerned I can use my talent on them much more freely than I can other things. I can use them to make…” he pauses, gaining a far off look momentarily, “anything, basically. Anything organic, at least. I’ll show you,” he offers, placing a hoof on the plant.

Everypony watches in fascination as he withdraws his hoof holding a mass of vines. They quickly morph into a square, then seem to stretch into a sheet that, once he holds up, looks nearly twice as long and three times as wide as he is. A thick layer of furry fluff grows out of the sheet on both sides, then the colors change to match Ferric’s dark red coat before the center changes to a large black shield with a duplicate of her mark covering most of the surface.

He folds the blanket up and passes it to the blushing filly with a quiet “Milady” and a slight bow. “That took about a quarter liter of compressed mass,” he explains, standing back up. “Each plant probably has enough to do about a couple hundred of those. They’re compact and heavy, so a smallish plant can expand quite a bit when I’m making something soft and fluffy like that.

“I’m fully expecting somepony to try to either stop me from getting to Canterlot or to either steal or destroy the antivirus trees. Though, given I’ve shown I can make more I don’t see what the point would be. With these shrubs here I can just make another or use the mass for other purposes. The vines you saw me hanging up, for example.

“Those’ll let me see what’s going on in the hallways six cars ahead, that way if anypony suspicious comes this way I’ll know about it. That vine is a little different than the rest; there’s a copper wire running through it, so even though the end of it is like… a hundred and fifty meters away I can tell what’s going on instantly.”

Ferric’s eyes widen at the statement. “Where did you get a hundred and fifty meters of copper?”

“Transmutation, just like the crystal I gave you. I made a spool of calcium thread, basically, and transmuted it to copper. It hadn’t occurred to me that copper is a lot denser, so the first time I did it I ended up with a spool of floss, basically. I guess the scraps we were playing with were close enough to steel that I didn’t notice. Once I got the size right it only took a few days to make enough that I could, in theory, wire the whole train. That seems like overkill, though.”

Rising looks around worriedly. “Are we safe?”

“Oh of course you’re safe,” he assures her. “That’s what the shrubs are here for. Well, one reason at least. Regardless, the plants are just extra biological mass, basically, that I can use for anything. Mostly these are coming with us for me to use in one of my meetings. I’ll tell you all a little more in the morning.”

“Why the morning?” Wind asks.

“I… guess I could give you all the choice, but I can already guess what’s going to happen.” He pauses and looks at his parents. “Do you think I should tell them? I’m worried they won’t sleep as well.”

Vines is the first to answer. “I think it would be best to wait until the morning, honey.” One by one each parent voices the same opinion.

“Most of us already know anyhow,” Dawn says.

“No you don’t. I have one more surprise. I agree with my parents; that will stay a surprise for now.”

“Beyond the meeting you told us about?” Glacial asks.

He immediately answers with a nod. “Yes. I guess I can tell you all about that. I think Heavy, Ferric, and Saph are the only ones not in the loop there.”

The three named foals all frown at being left out.

Starlight speaks up saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well we don’t exactly hang out much,” Cure points out. He makes eye contact with the three and explains, “Dawn found out because of her sire. Coast and RP just happened to be present when I was discussing it with my parents. The pegasi found out when I slipped and inadvertently mentioned it, so don’t be upset… I wanted to surprise you all, but the pony I’m taking those trees to -”

“The princess?” Heavy and Ferric ask at the same time, then share a look.

“Weird… I didn’t know colts could do that too,” Cure mumbles, rubbing at his chin again while staring at Heavy.

“What, dude? I figured when you mentioned burning a letter after your trees were stolen,” the gray colt explains. Ferric nods indicating the same.

“We’re meeting Princess Celestia?!” Sapphire asks in a shout. “Why didn’t you tell me?! I didn’t bring any of my jewelry!” The whole time she’s yelling she’s becoming more frantic.

Cure doesn’t seem to know how to answer. “I… what? Why would you need it?”

“You have to look your best when meeting the princess!” she insists, waving her forehooves dramatically.

Cure looks confusedly at the rest of the foals, seemingly trying to find an explanation somewhere. Ferric meets his eyes and mouths “her dam” as an explanation. Apparently Midnight Gem is one of those ponies that thinks a pony is more important when they’re covered in fancy jewelry. Odd given the girl doesn’t usually wear anything special.

Finally he settles on, in his mind, an obvious point. “I really don’t think the princess is going to care if you meet her without any jewelry on. Other than her crown and peytral she doesn’t even wear any.”

She starts to object, stuttering, “But… but…” before her sister hugs her from the side.

“It’s okay, sis. None of us have anything either.”

“Right,” Cure agrees. “Besides, it would be weirder if you were the only one decked out and we’re all strolling in there naked.”

“I… guess,” she begrudgingly acknowledges, calming down while she leans against her sister’s chest.

Starlight scrunches her muzzle and admits, “I kinda wouldn’t have minded knowing just so I could bring something.”

“Why?” he asks. “We’re talking about a one to two millennium old monarch that controls the sun here. Do you have anything that she hasn’t seen a thousand times?”

Starlight hesitates in thought for a moment. “I guess not,” she finally agrees with a sigh.

“It’s the thought, Cure,” Title says. “They just want to look nice for her highness.” When Cure shrugs uncomprehending she rolls her eyes and explains to the two, “He’s right. She doesn’t seem to care about that stuff. We spoke with her briefly once a few months back and, like he said, the only thing she had on was her crown and peytral, and those are just symbols for her station. She didn’t even have fancy shoes on.”

Sadly, Title’s explanation just raises more questions about when and how they’d met, so after a retelling of the events, which focused on Cure’s prank more than Deed felt necessary, Cure finishes his talk encouraging everypony to look at the menus and figure out what they want for dinner.

Despite the kitchen for the general public not being available he’d paid extra for early access specifically so he could get everypony situated and his plants loaded well in advance of general boarding. With little else to do Cure and the other foals place their food orders, then relax and creature watch as others gather to board the train.

Cure has a difficult time not heading out to the platform and setting up a stand; in addition to the several dozens of ponies, numerous non-pony creatures are gathering to go to the capital. The train allows advanced boarding, typically, an hour before departure and general boarding starting thirty minutes beforehoof. By the time that is drawing near he’s seen no less than a dozen griffons, ten minotaurs, over twenty zebras, and even a single female dragon.

He doesn’t particularly care for her yellow coloration, but that aside he’s struggling not to run out there and make his sales pitch to the young dragoness. He had learned from his parents that, as he guessed on his first trip to Canterlot, all dragons are quadrupedal in this world. They can, however, stand on their hind legs fairly well by using their wings and thick, heavy tails as counterweights, but walking while upright is difficult for them.

He was so tired and anxious on his last trip to the capital that he didn’t even pay attention to the other passengers. He makes a mental note to add the train station to his list of potential non-pony scanning locations.

He also catches sight of a group of familiar looking ponies moving through the crowd. He turns to look at his sire who, after a moment, feels Cure’s eyes on him. When he looks up to meet the colt’s look Cure gives him a subtle nod to tell him their security team has arrived.

“Hey dad, what do you think the odds are I could meet with some of those other creatures at breakfast? There’s a female dragon out there; a young one I’m guessing, at least based on her size. Think she’d let me scan her if I promised to make her scales brighter or something? She’s already yellow so I could make her look like a big ‘ol golden statue. Bet she’d like that.”

Caught off guard from the unexpected question, Deed looks unsure at the colt. “Umm… probably? I dunno what dragons find attractive, champ. I would assume she would like that, but I dunno. I’m sure she won’t bite ya for askin.”

“Sweet!”

“Why…” Dawn starts, then realization sets in. “Oh… scales?”

“Nerves and bones too,” he answers with a nod. “I’m also curious about the fire breathing, but I suspect that’s magic.”

“Dragons have magic?” Drift asks.

“Not like unicorns,” Solar explains, “but their fire breath does have magical properties. That’s something we trade for with them.” The young stallion looks out the window and asks, “Did the princess tell you she’s sending guards?”

Cure turns to look back out and spots a three guard team making their way through the now boarding crowd; a member of each tribe and all mares. “No, but the more security the merrier. Do you recognize them?”

“There’s like three hundred guards in this city, dude. Hay, they may even be from Canterlot. Or maybe they’re just train security.”

“I guess. I figured train security would have been on the train already though. Honestly I didn’t even know trains had actual guards as security.”

“Routes between major metros do,” he confirms.

“Huh. Well the more you know,” Cure says, trailing off.

A knock at the door draws everypony’s attention. “Food’s here,” Solar says, trotting to the door to greet the server. Cure watches as he speaks to the worker for a moment then pulls the food-laden cart into the room and closes the door. He wheels it into the dining area where everypony can come get their order.

The cart is narrow and has two shelves, each with several covered dishes and several drinks on it. Cure extends his horn and quickly scans everything, finding nothing suspicious.

Barely holding back a laugh, Solar asks, “Did you seriously just scan the tray for poison?”

“Had to be sure,” he answers with a shrug.

“Who would be stupid enough to try to poison somepony with your talent?” Drift asks.

Dawn is quick to remind her, “It’s not something most creatures would know about. We only know it wouldn’t work because we’ve seen what he can do.”

“Feel free to scan my food,” Rising nervously says. “It is safe, right?”

“Yep. If y’all want I could give each of you an antidote gland I developed. My parents and sisters all have it and we’ve tested a bunch of stuff on my dad. It works a lot like the trees do, sort of. The only downside is that it also works on the drugs they use for surgery, so it would be a good idea if I also made the changes you would need to turn off pain receptors.”

As Cure explains his changes using Illusions for visual aids, the rest of the group, along with Starlight and Solar, pile around the two dining tables. Deed and Vines eat their meals and a dessert while still sitting on one of the lounging couches, as do his moms with the food they ordered.

The three pegasi eagerly take him up on his offer, as do the unicorns. Dawn and Solar so they can cast while ignoring pain and Starlight in case Cure is not nearby when she eventually has foals. When she mentions that he waves her to the side and uses a Sound Bubble to also suggest other foalbirth-related upgrades that just happened to have other applications. Though she accepts, she can’t help but blush nearly crimson at the colt’s clinical explanation of the enhancements.

Ferric asks for the pain control too, citing the need to be able to think clearly should there ever be an accident when smithing or in her future guard career. Sapphire just thinks it’s neat and doesn’t like being hurt, so she happily gets the small change also. Rising, Heavy, and Coast aren’t very interested, but Cure’s paranoia gets the best of them and they agree to at least try the changes or for a few days to see if they think they’re worth keeping.

With everypony immunized to a wide range of poisons, venoms, and drugs they sit and watch as a few last-minute boarders rush to hop on the train. With one last “All Aboard!” call the train employees do a final check and close the doors. Another server knocks and quickly reloads the cart with empty plates and cups before leaving the room, recommending that everypony find a comfortable seat as the train will be departing in just a moment.

At long last, a series of blasts go off from the train’s whistle and, with surprisingly little vibration or noise, the train gets underway.

Thursday, April 30th, 909 AB
Just after midnight

“Dad!” Cure hisses, shaking his sire. “Wake up! We have incoming!”

Deed’s sleep-addled mind snaps to full alertness in a second. The colt had insisted somepony would try something and, apparently, he wasn’t just being paranoid after all. Taking a glance around he meets his son’s eyes and gives him a small nod letting him know he’s awake.

“I’ve got a sound bubble crystal activated in the hallway,” he explains as Deed climbs off the bed. “Solar’s already up and setting the tables up in chokepoint. I have a shield and glaive, spear thing out here for you,” he says, rushing out the curtain to the hallway. Deed quickly follows and finds that Cure isn’t joking; Solar has moved the tables so they’re blocking the left and right sides of the car making a small, clear area between the kitchen, closet area and the lounging section.

Deed looks over the items, confused where they came from for a moment. A quick inspection shows them to be made of bone and keratin as he can feel his auras flow through the items. The shield is as tall as he is and slightly wider. A tower shield, if what he recalls from Grandpa Brick’s lectures is accurate. With the ability to make the shield lighter or heavier it should prove to be a formidable defensive item, especially with the durability crystal Cure slipped inside.

The spear, if that’s the correct term, is definitely not a defensive item. Deed looks up at the head of the weapon and, in addition to a sharp head, four smaller but equally sharp barbs jut out in a cross, each with an oil or, more likely, venom of some kind coating them. He doesn’t have the griffon aura like Cure does, but if one of those barbs touches something Deed’s pretty confident that won’t matter.

Quickly moving forward he joins Solar looking towards the front of the car between the upturned tables. Cure’s already gathered seven of his plants and is quickly merging them all together, along with dozens of crystals, to make something. The vine he had running up through the other cars is hooked into the creation’s tail, or at least where he thinks the tail is going to be.

It looks like some kind of quadrupedal, six armed pony, minotaur, dragon, bug thing that Deed has to admit would scare the shit straight out of any pony with half a brain. Two of the arms have three long, wicked looking talons and the other four are barely more than scythes half as long as Deed’s body. The thing is easily four hooves taller than Deed is at the eyes.

“Who’s coming? What’s going on?” he quickly asks.

“Friggin everypony is coming, dad! Four minotaur are two cars up. There’s ten zebras a car behind them and it looks like a dozen ponies are gathering, starting to make their way here too. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but it ain’t nothin good! We only have like two minutes ‘till the minotaurs get here!”

Solar watches curiously while Cure works on his creation. “What the hay are you making, dude?”

“A Warrior from a science fiction book. Sort of. They didn’t have unicorn horns on their shoulders and were bipedal, but I need room to climb in. I think they only had one set of blades too. Scrubs,” he says with a scoff. “Hey Solar, go put these above the door! They’ll stick, just cram them up there. Quick!” he shouts, passing a dozen… things to Solar.

The young stallion has a hard time seeing in the low light of the car, but his aura lets him see enough to know that Cure has passed him some kind of pods. There’s not really any “feeling” with magic; something he’s very grateful for, because the pods look like they’re made of some kind of flesh and are coated in a sticky mucus.

Each one is a little bigger than his hoof and is segmented into dozens of smaller units, though he can’t tell what’s inside of them. Solar uses his magic to attach the pods to the ceiling above the doorway, making a row of them trailing into the car, all the while sending a silent prayer to the maker that he doesn’t get to actually find out what they do.

He can tell Cure is doing something to them with his magic every minute or so, but he’s using his talent, not a spell so there’s no way to know exactly what he’s doing.

Once finished he turns around and finds himself face to belly with the completed suit Cure has been working on. It’s hooves down the most terrifying creature Solar has ever seen or heard of.

Standing head and shoulders above Deed, the creature looks to be little more than bone, muscle, sharp edges, and armor. Recoiling purely on instinct, Solar recollects himself and watches a suddenly un-coated Cure climb into the thing’s open belly cavity before it closes, sealing the colt inside behind a hoof thick plate of bone and muscle.

Within a few seconds the thing… Cure… opens his eyes and nods in satisfaction. Solar expected some kind of rasping hiss or something, but a normal, if deep, voice explains, “You two are the last line of defense. I told Lucky to wait until I call them in. They wouldn’t have been able to get here first and there’s too many hostiles for them to take without somepony gettin hurt. We can get them in a crossfire this way too, if need be.

“Stay behind the barricades and aim to kill anything that gets past me. One of you keeps an eye backwards too, just in case. Those points,” he motions to the spear barbs, “are coated in the most potent paralytic venom I could make, but we can’t be sure they don’t have some kind of bullshit antivenom, especially the zebras.”

He flexes one of his claws, looking at it appraisingly, then a sheen manifests on the sharpened edge before he comments, “Nothing likely will. At least, not in one piece, but… hey, ya never know with magic.” He quickly levitates a few crystals to each stallion. Flame Dart, Stun, and Shield. Basic, but practical, Solar supposes.

“The minotaurs are almost here. I think the zebras saw them headed this way and are hanging back to see what happens, or to ambush them. There’s a dozen ponies behind them, too. Lucky’s team is suited up in their security gear and Arcane is, apparently, itching to sling some plasma, so we should be fine. This whole thing,” he motions to himself, “is probably overkill, but ya know… better safe than sorry. Maybe I can just scare everypony… everyone enough they’ll walk away.”

“I would,” Solar mumbles. He notices Deed nod in agreement a second later.

“Yeah, well, you have some common sense, dude. Anyone with half a brain would look at this thing and nope right the fuck off.” He stops and faces the door. “They’re here.”

Cure reaches over and taps a panel carefully with his left claw. The back half of the room is, once again, completely dark. From the barricades to the front of the car is lit and he, with his scythes wrapped around his body like crossed arms, stands alone in the light.

The three watch as the lock on the door is forced up, then the door is gently slid open. The first minotaur that steps through pauses when he catches sight of Cure, then squares up with him stepping fully into the room. Compared to a pony the dude is huge. Standing just a half head shorter than Cure’s creation, the minotaur is almost as wide as he is.

From the looks of it the group did not come prepared for a heavily armed opponent. They have only wooden clubs, likely the only thing they could sneak aboard the train. They are also wearing no armor, though the Guard trainers explained that minotaurs typically don’t wear any outside of times of war as a show of pride and strength. The concept sounds idiotic to Solar, but in this case he’s perfectly fine with the bit of luck.

Solar can see the other three behind him, all males, looking warily at the creature before them. The last one has a pack slung over his shoulder; probably the same they used to sneak weapons onboard. Also, likely the same they would shove a blue colt into if he wasn’t presently a twenty something hoof tall wall of bone and muscle.

“You have five seconds to turn around,” Cure’s suddenly much deeper voice slowly commands. As he delivers his ultimatum he extends a single scythe arm and gently sets it atop a nearby table. With no discernable force the scythe cuts through the tabletop like parting water. “Or you will die. Quickly. Meaninglessly. Never having any hope of victory.”

The frontmost minotaur takes only a second to look at the table before speaking. In a deep, sonorous voice he explains, “We have no quarrel with you, creature. We are mercenaries, hired and paid to do a job. Stand aside.”

“I was hired to do a job as well. Who sent you?”

“Not important,” he says with a dismissive wave. “There are four of us and only one of you.”

“Not important,” Cure retorts, extending his scythe arms. “I have a blade for each of you. Last chance. Turn around and leave. No amount of money is worth your life. You have no hope of victory.”

“Honor demands we fulfill our agreement, no matter the result.”

“Honor?! Four minotaurs assault a train car full of foals, a family, and a pregnant mare,” Cure says with a scoff. “Hypocrisy and foolishness. You have no honor, scum. I will carve ‘Coward’ into each of your hides before presenting you to the sun pony. All that see you will know your measure.”

The lead minotaur looks over his shoulder and nods to the other three. There’s not room enough for all of them to stand shoulder to shoulder, so only one is able to step up beside him, though the two bump into each other and stumble slightly before righting themselves, a move that gets a raised brow from Solar.

Before any of them take another step, Cure takes a deep, steadying breath and exhales, spreading his scythe arms wide and keeping his taloned arms loosely at his sides. The four minotaurs approach, preparing for combat, then lose their balance and collapse on the floor.

“Well,” Cure comments, shoulders slumping and scythes refolding around him. “That was anticlimactic. Smidge closer than I expected though.”

“Dude… what was that?” Solar asks.

“Poison?” Deed guesses.

“Yep. Poison,” Cure confirms, turning to look back at the pair over his shoulder. “What? Did you think it would be green or somethin, dude? I’ve been filling the front half of the car with gas for the last five minutes.”

“Kind of?” Solar defends.

Cure chuckles, which is an odd thing to see in an enormous killer bug dragon thing, then shakes his head. “I would have to add something to it to make it visible. That’s freaking stupid. No, they’re just drugged. They’ll be out for a few hours, minimum.

“Oh hey! Minotaur scans!” he happily shouts, turning and laying a hand on each of them. “Nothing too new here. Shame there’s no female with them. Huh… they do have a different mitochondrial structure… not sure what it does, though.” Cure floats the discarded bag to an outstretched hand, reaches in, and pulls out four crystals.

“Sleep,” he says, dropping them back in, “and ten thousand bits,” he says, peering into a bit pouch. Despite the ferocious appearance Solar can still detect the mischievous glint in Cure’s expression. “I mean… two thousand bits…”

“Son…” Deed starts in a disappointed tone.

“I’m joking! Sheesh.” The disguised colt makes a show of dropping the pouch back in the bag and tossing it back towards the sleeping quarters.

Solar lets out a sigh. “I thought you were going to kick their flanks.”

“Nah,” Cure waves dismissively. “The suit, the scythes, all that was just to make them think we were really going to fight. I’m not exactly enthusiastic about having to actually kill something. I mean… I will if I have to, but not if I can just knock ‘em out. I woulda just darted them if they managed to stay up another second.”

He waves a scythe arm in the air and asks, “Do you have any idea how messy these would have been? The stains, the smell… ugh I bet the carpet would be a write-off, Cleaning be damned. Even magic has its limits,” he grumbles.

Solar knows the colt is joking, but it’s bizarre to see somepony seem so calm about the whole mess. Maybe this is just Cure’s way of covering up the anxiety or, maybe, he’s almost relieved to finally have somecreature legitimately come after him finally. Either way there’s a being out there that better be thanking the stars the minotaurs didn’t give up a name.

Cure moves the minotaurs out of the way, lifting them with a horn and piling two to a side against the walls to leave a walkway and a small cleared area in front of him. After a moment of consideration, he follows through on his promise, though he uses his talent instead of a claw, to Solar’s relief. On each of their chests and backs he changes the color of their skin and coat; the word FOOL clearly legible in large, bold type.

“Fool?” Solar questions.

“Feels more appropriate,” he replies. “At least they had the balls to try to fight me. Coward doesn’t feel right.”

“They’re going to come after you for that, you know?” Solar points out. “Though I guess even fool is better than coward. That’s like… about the absolute worst insult for a minotaur. At least, as I understand their culture.”

“Fuck them. They’re lucky I don’t do something I would truly regret to ‘em. When I find out who sent them this will seem like a mercy. These bastards were going to take me away from my family. If we weren’t going to the boss…” he trails off while standing over the group menacingly, flexing his claws for a few seconds. Finally, he lets out a sigh and visibly deflates.

He glances to the side and, with a Mending spell, repairs the sliced table, then floats it back behind Deed and Solar. He sheepishly admits, “I don’t wanna hafta pay for that. It looks expensive,” before focusing back on the information coming from his vines.

<< The minotaurs are down, Uncle Lucky. Zebras incoming in a minute. I’ll let you know if I need help. >>

<< You took out four minotaurs that fast? How?! >>

<< Poison gas. They never actually had any hope at all. >>

<< Way ta go, colt. Save some for Arcane. The dude is pumped and ready to throw down! >>

<< No promises. I think I can just knock everyone out. Boring but safe and effective, ya know? >>

“Alright, so there’s ten zebras spread out in the hallway of the car ahead of us.” He glances at Solar over his shoulder and asks, “As I understand it they have shamans and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, they can use some weird magic. And alchemy. Don’t let them throw anything in here.”

“Right,” Cure nods in agreement. He watches curiously as the furthest zebra pulls a large flask from a satchel and opens the door to the car in front of them. “Ah shit… I think they’re trying to decouple us and the car in front of us.”

Alarmed at the possibility, Solar quickly asks, “Can you stop them?!”

“Yeah, sucks for them but I can sprout a small horn from the vine over there. This is so unfair,” he comments. Cure watches on with a chuckle when the zebra looks under the platforms between the cars, then gets ready to throw the flask at the coupling.

Through the targeting aura he can see the zebra’s shocked expression when, when rearing back to throw, the flask is ripped from his hoof and floated away. “Oops, dropped somethin there, buddy,” he says to himself. “This is boring. I’m just gonna knock all of them out, I guess.”

“You could do that all along?” Deed asks.

Shrugging, Cure explains, “Yeah. None of these morons are shielded. I guess they were expecting a bunch of earth ponies. I can use my talent to transmute a few milligrams of food in their guts to opium and they’ll be out in just a moment.”

“Damnit, colt. Do it! Ya had me scared ta death over here!” he shouts, throwing his hooves in the air.

“Really? Why?” It’s strange, again, to Solar to see a two and a half meter tall horror creature tilt its head curiously. In a way it’s almost funny to see something so monstrous behaving like a six hoof tall colt. In a far more serious way, though, it just goes to show how terrifying Cure really can be.

Deed tosses the shield to the side and, much more gently, sets the spear down. “Ya woke me up yellin the whole train was comin for us!”

“Well, yeah, but… did you really think there was something out there that could take me? I just needed you two to make sure nopony… I dunno, teleported past me or something. Would you have rather I didn’t wake you up?”

Deed sighs, then shakes his head no. “Nah, I guess I’d be upset if I found out in tha mornin. Just… take care of the rest’a them. I’m goin back ta sleep.”

“Alright. Goodnight, pa. Love you!” Cure pauses a second and, with a big smile, runs over and lifts up the big stallion, squeezing him in a hug, scythes and all. Solar does actually laugh this time when he plants a toothy kiss on Deed’s cheek before setting him down and, gently, patting his head. The indignant look his sire shoots him before trotting back to bed just further cracks him up.

“You goin back to bed too, dude?”

“Umm…” Solar hesitates, looking back at the area with the sleeping foals and his marefriend. “I’ll stay up to make sure nothing weird happens.” He pauses, looking Cure up and down. “Well, nothing weirder than you happens, that is. You’re sure you can take care of the zebras?”

“I already did,” he flatly replies. “I did that before I grabbed my dad. I put some straight in their blood too, just to speed it up. A few milligrams of fat and sugars converted and bam! You shoulda seen ‘em tripping and stumbling before they passed out.

“There’s really nothing to worry about, I guess. I mean, even if that didn’t work I could turn that hallway into a slaughterhouse just by running down it with my blades extended. Literally nothing could stop me, not even a unicorn shield. At least, not for more than a second or two.

“Pegasi can increase their mass too, so I’d be hitting like a thirteen hundred kilogram boulder, give or take. With spikes and venom and teeth. Assuming I didn’t fall through the floor, that is.” Cure pauses to look at his dragon-like clawed feet. “I may hafta make my feet wider. More surface area to spread the weight,” he idly muses.

Solar nods in understanding, “First off, I didn’t know pegasi could do that. Second, that sounds disgusting.”

Cure just shrugs in response before saying, “Screw it, I’m tired. I really expected tougher opposition here. Let’s see what the pony squad is doing.” He concentrates on his vine again, then a moment later says, “So the scouts, I’m assuming, found the unconscious zebras. They’re regrouping in the lounge car to figure out what to do. Oops, looks like one of the zebras is a lightweight. Hold on,” he says, stilling for a moment. “Okay, she’s fine now. Close one, heh…”

<< Zebras are out too, Uncle Lucky. I was able to knock them out with drugs. Apologize to Arcane for me, I’ll probably do something like that to the ponies too. No fighting tonight, I guess. >>

<< Eh, that’s fine, colt. That just means more energy ta burn once we get inta town. Good job! >>

“Dude…”

“What?” he defensively whines. “I don’t normally rely on drugs! Winners don’t use drugs, Solar!” he firmly insists, then chuckles. “It’s a damn lucky thing the clinic has this crap in stock at all, otherwise I would have to make do with some kind of venom, and who knows how they would react to that. At least opiates are predictable... ish.

“They should freaking thank me I’m not out there with these guys,” he says, waving a scythe around. “A little overdose isn’t a big deal. And unless you tell somepony it never happened,” he insists, staring intently.

Solar is quick to nod in agreement. Even though he knows it’s still just Cure and his little bro would never hurt him, the Warrior he’s inside of is very intimidating.

“Oh my gosh… you’re not going to believe this!” he suddenly shouts, turning to face the front again.

“What?” Solar asks. “Are there dragons now or something?”

“Nah,” he says, waving a huge, taloned hand, “the ponies… they’re drawing straws to see who has to come see what happened! HAH! Pussies.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nah, dude. Totally serious. In fact, it looks like one of the unicorns just cheated to make sure an earth pony lost. Wow, what a douche. You should see the expression on the earth pony’s face, though. He looks like he’s being marched off to his death.”

“Well…” Solar starts, waving around.

Cure only thinks for a second before he nods. “Yeah, I guess. Alright, this is all boring me. Let’s fuck with this guy some, see if we can get him to squeal, then get some sleep. I’m gonna go grab all the zebras real quick, come help me levitate a few in here before the pony starts coming. Put all their bags in my dam’s spatial bag; she hardly has anything in it and I bet the princess will wanna go through it and the minotaurs’ crap.”

Nodding in acceptance, Solar follows Cure to the door. Cure has to cast Reduce to easily fit through and, on the way, Solar casts a quick Mending on the lock. The disguised colt drops an activated Sound Bubble crystal to keep the car quiet while they have the doors open.

Just as Cure had said there are ten zebras all laying down sleeping in the hallway. It takes a couple trips to float and carry all of them back, not to mention having to use Cleaning a couple times where one or another lost bladder control. Every time he checks the vine to see what’s happening Cure assures Solar that the earth pony they’re sending is taking his sweet time heading their way.

With a mischievous smirk, Cure rushes up to the kitchenette and fills the tea kettle with water before turning it on. He carries it back into the room, then rearranges the furniture and the sleeping attackers while Solar watches bewildered.

A moment later Cure, now unshrunk and still in his massive Warrior suit, has a table set up in the middle of the room. He has the heated water in a tea kettle, a few empty teacups, and a selection of the available tea blends along with sugar cubes in a bowl arranged for company.

The zebras are piled five to a couch against the walls, stacked like dead bodies even though they’re clearly breathing. The minotaurs are similarly stacked, arranged by Cure in pairs so they seem to be spooning each other on the floor at the ends of each couch. Sat between the two couches, he pats the floor by his side then lays on his barrel. Solar rolls his eyes, but dutifully takes his place next to Cure. The pair sit in silence for a moment until Solar can detect the earth pony on the opposite side of the door.

Cure opens the door with his unicorn telekinesis, startling the stallion, then calls out to him. “Come on in, won’t you?” he shouts over the outside noise. To add to the Cure-ness he’s speaking in an odd Trottingham accent with a different voice. The high pitched voice coming out of the enormous construct makes the scene that much more bizarre. Slowly, the stallion pokes his head in the door and looks around warily. “Don’t worry, old chap. I may look scary, but I’m a civilized being. No harm will come to you, I promise.

“You see,” Cure waves at the zebras and minotaurs all piled around him, “they’re just asleep. No blood, no bruises, none of that rubbish. Now come on in here and join me for a spot of tea, why don’t you? We’ll have a little chat and you can be on your way.” He pours two cups of hot water and drops a tea bag in each, then looks questioningly at Solar who declines the offer with a head shake.

Like a scolded puppy, the stallion makes his way in the door, head down and tail tucked under him. He jumps, startled again, when Cure closes the door behind him, but presses on past the first few areas regardless. He’s slim for an earth pony, Solar notes, with a dark charcoal coat and a silver mane. Then again, after months of hanging out with Cure and his family, all but the bulkiest earth ponies seem slim to Solar these days. Knees shaking, the stallion slowly approaches the table, eyes never leaving Cure.

“There, see? No need to be afraid, friend,” Cure says. “We’re just having a delightful slumber party, and apparently everyone is invited!” he finishes with a laugh. The poor stallion looks ready to piss himself. “How much sugar do you take?”

The stallion looks at the tea warily for a moment, then whispers, “Two please?” half questioningly. Apparently he’d come to the conclusion that the tea is safe enough, which is logical. It’s not as if the monstrosity before him needs to poison him if he holds ill intent. He may anyhow, but that’s just SOP in Cure’s book, Solar has come to realize.

Cure gingerly picks up two cubes of sugar then, daintily, stirs the tea with the tiniest looking spoon ever while Solar and the stallion watch in some combination of curiosity, humor, and horror. He then picks up his cup, which is comically small in the huge creature’s hands, and takes a loud, slurping sip, sighing in contentment. “So… what is your name and what brings you here tonight?”

“Uhh… what are you?”

“I am a Warrior,” Cure explains. “But sadly,” he says with an exaggerated pout, “there is no war for me to fight. Yet. So I suppose that makes me a bodyguard for now. So, again I ask… who are you and why are you here?”

“Lost Coin. I drew the short straw,” the stallion answers, shrinking down to his barrel.

“The short straw…” Cure pauses, then looks to Solar. “He says he drew the short straw,” Cure slowly repeats to the young stallion before looking back. In a commanding tone he clarifies, “What I meant is, why are there eleven more ponies out there waiting for you? Who hired you and what are your intentions?”

“I dunno!” the stallion cries. Full on cries, with tears running down his cheeks and snot dripping out of his snout. “There’s a colt and the boss didn’t wanna deal with a foal so he sent the minotaurs and they were supposed Sleep everypony and get him and bring him to us and the pegasi are supposed to fly him somewhere and that’s all I know ‘cause the boss didn’t tell nopony nothing else and I swear we wasn’t gonna hurt nopony but then I drew the short straw and they said to come see what happened when all the zebras fell asleep and I didn’t know why and please, please don’t eat me!” he finishes, covering his head with his forelegs, bawling on the floor.

Solar looks up to Cure, quirking an eyebrow. The colt in disguise makes a show of scratching at his chin while humming in thought. “I haven’t eaten a pony in a very long time,” he slowly admits. “Not very flavorful, if you ask me. The meat’s too tough and you’re terribly gamey. Also, only unicorns tend to have enough fat to get really juicy.”

Cure’s normal voice shouts, “He’s lying!” as he pounds a hoof against the inside of the belly. He looks down and quickly dismisses the noise with, “That was just the wind,” before continuing on. A fresh row of tears streams down the stallion’s face.

Shaking his head, Cure continues, “Besides, that princess of yours has her ‘No eating my little ponies’ rule. Quite bothersome, really. No, it just isn’t worth the trouble.” He lets out a big sigh and wraps an arm around Solar. “You’re all so cute and huggable anyhow! Far better use for a pony, if you ask me, rather than eating them. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asks, leaning over the table.

Coin, and Solar is really beginning to feel bad for the poor fella, nods emphatically at the question.

“Wonderful!” Cure cheers. “Hugs good, eats bad. I should put that on a t-shirt or something,” he idly says. “So… we need to come up with a solution to this whole foalnapping problem, don’t we?”

“I could just leave?” Coin suggests. “The boss said to go see what’s happening. I could tell him we need to go!”

“Ah, but then who will speak to the authorities in Canterlot?” Cure asks, then shakes his head no. “No, I’m afraid that won’t work. Which one is the boss?”

“He’s a white unicorn! He goes by Slip!”

“Slip, hrm? Oh and a white unicorn. How very interesting. Does he have a dark brown mane, perchance?”

“No! It’s blue!”

“Ah,” he says, letting out a disappointed sigh. “A shame. I could only be so lucky, I suppose. Though I guess it could have been him. We’ll see.” Cure, once again, pauses in thought. He reaches behind his back and, seemingly out of nowhere, produces a brown wooden box a few hooves tall on each side. He sets it on the table before the earth pony and says, “I’ll tell you what, Lost Coin. If you promise to take this box to your boss you may go.”

“Really?” he asks, voice full of hope.

“Yep. Just one small delivery and, chances are, we’ll never meet again. Don’t worry, there’s nothing harmful in it at all. Just a message.”

“Okay,” he agrees, slowly reaching for the box as if it were a trap. When he touches it and nothing happens he picks it up and sets it on his withers. Slowly backing away from the table, he waits until he’s several body lengths away before turning and quickly exiting the car, nearly slamming the door shut as he flees.

“What’s in the box?” Solar asks.

Cure smirks then, more energetically, repeats back, “What’s in the box?!” and bursts out laughing. “It’s an overinflated balloon, basically, filled with gas. I upped the dosage compared to what these assholes got. Running outta patience as I get more tired, ya know? When they lift the lid the thing will shoot gas all throughout the room and knock ‘em out.”

“But you could have knocked them out from here like you did the zebras,” Solar accuses.

“Yeah, but now I know which one is the boss and why minotaurs were here. Of course, it’s always the unicorn, isn’t it?” he asks with a sigh.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, dude, but… oh wait, he’s actually going to open it. What an idiot! Aaand they’re out.”

<< Hey Uncle Lucky, the ponies are all knocked out just outside your door. Give it about two minutes for the gas to clear or you’ll get knocked out too, then drag ‘em in here, please. >>

<< Sure thing, colt. We’ll be there in a few. >>

“Alright, I need to get out of this thing. Can you put the furniture back?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. Thanks for playing along dude. It was fun,” he says with a smirk.

“Right. Fun. I’m freaking tired,” Solar complains, starting to levitate the furniture back where it belongs. “Hey, you never said what was in those things I stuck over the door.”

“Wasps.”

“Wasps?”

“Yep. Lots and lots of very aggressive wasps with special venom. They’re not natural creatures; no way to eat or reproduce. Disposable weapons, basically. I figured if somehow my magic were completely disabled and I was incapacitated those things would be a good fallback.”

“How would you set them off without magic?”

“My magic is the only thing keeping them from going off. I’m actively holding them back. If my magic cuts out they’ll start bursting free in a moment.”

“Dude!” Solar shouts in alarm. “What would have happened if they did cut off your magic?”

“A thousand of those things with paralytic stings would have gone after everypony that doesn’t have my scent on them.”

“Oh. So we would have been fine?”

“We would be the only ones that are fine. Even if you got stung you’re immune to the venom now, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Good thinking.”

Cure nods in acknowledgement while divesting himself of his suit. The mass goes back to being shrubs, refilling all but the four he used on his wires. He steals some mass from the plants and makes thick silk bindings, wrapping each prisoner much like he’d done to Solar on Nightmare Night.

The minotaurs are all laid on their bellies with their arms and legs bound behind their backs with another set of bands from their bound hands and hooves around their horns. It looks horribly uncomfortable, but when Solar comments on it Cure shrugs and points out that if they wake up with a sore neck they should thank their lucky stars he didn’t tear them to shreds.

Just as the two finish securing the prisoners, Arcane, Lucky, and five of the security ponies he had healed for his great grandsire arrive carrying the dozen ponies. The two pegasi have one each, the four earth ponies are easily carrying two apiece, and the two unicorns are floating theirs behind them like luggage. Cure introduces Solar to everypony and gives them a rundown of the evening’s events.

“Twenty six, though?” Arcane asks incredulously.

“Yeah, dude. I know the minotaurs and ponies are all hired hooves, hands, whatever. The minotaurs were apparently subcontracted by the ponies to deliver me. They apparently didn’t have the balls to do their own dirty work. I didn’t speak to the zebras at all, so I dunno what their story is. They tried to uncouple the cars, though, so they weren’t up to nothin good.”

“That’s probably for the best,” the stallion suggests. “Their magic is weird. You don’t wanna mess with that. They ain’t gonna wake up at all?”

Shaking his head no, Cure assures him, “Not for a few hours, and they’ll feel like crap when they do. Do you think we can get these flankholes all loaded into the cargo car behind us so the other foals don’t have to wake up and see ‘em? I can whip up something that’ll keep ‘em under until we get to Canterlot without killing ‘em. I’ll hafta make all of you immune to it, though, so nothing stupid happens somehow.”

Lucky and Arcane nod in agreement. “Smart thinkin, colt,” Lucky compliments. He looks over the group and shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh. “Twenty six creatures all after one colt. They oughta thank the maker grandpa ain’t here. We’ll get ‘em to the next car over, alright? Get us ready and set up yer thing and then get yerself some sleep with yer little herd’a fillies. We’ll take care‘a the rest.”

With a relieved sigh, Cure nuzzles into his uncle’s chest. “Thanks Uncle Lucky. I’m pooped.”

Lucky scoops Cure up into a tight hug. “Gettin heavy, colt,” he comments before setting him back down. “C’mon, let’s get it done and getchya ta bed,” he says, waving to the back of the train car. “Any’a these trash stir, we’ll deal with it,” he insists in a snarl.

“Do ya think we could put that one,” he says, pointing at the white unicorn with a blue mane, “in the bathroom and do a little… questioning?”

“You can’t torture him,” Solar calmly says. “I know you’re angry, but the torture of prisoners is forbidden.”

Sighing, Cure nods in understanding. “I wasn’t going to torture him, just ask some pointed questions. It was more of a passing thought than anything, to be honest. Besides, that prick was gonna take me from my family,” he reminds them. “He sent four minotaurs with clubs in here, too. There’s not a lot that can be done to him that’s worse than he deserves.”

“That may be,” Lucky concedes, “but he’ll get his once the princess finds out. That ain’t a path ya wanna go down, son. You’re too young for that unpleasantness.”

“Alright, alright! I was just askin anyway,” he insists. Cure watches as they move everypony. Solar helps move the prisoners and watches as Cure merges two of his plants together, turning them into a large anesthesia dispenser. It's a rudimentary system, but it only has to last a few hours anyhow. Chances are what he gave them already will keep them out for the next six to eight hours, but he would rather slowly give them a tiny bit extra to be sure.

He plugs a cannula into their veins, spending a moment or two ensuring enough sedative is being administered that none of them will die or wake up. It’s a delicate balance that takes him a couple minutes on each one. In a little under an hour all of the prisoners, including the leader, are moved and hooked into his plant.

Cure would love nothing more than to rip the unicorn to shreds, but with the potential damage to his image, it simply isn’t worth it. He's not the same pony he detected when his plants are stolen, which is unfortunate. Just to be safe he adds a scent gland in the stallion's mane, though. It’s undetectable by normal ponies, but with his enhanced sense of smell Cure could track him from miles away in case he somehow manages to get away.

Everything taken care of, the two return to the sleeping area. Solar gently climbs on the bed with Starlight, Dawn, Rising, and Coast. Instead of joining the girls, Cure climbs into bed with his parents, wedging his head between Vines’ forelegs and relaxing against her chest and baby bump. He puts himself into a state of torpor, still keeping a wary ear out for betrayal or any sign of problems through the vine plugged into his back.

He doesn’t think there’s any way in hell Arcane and Lucky would do that, but given the sheer tropeyness of it happening he isn’t completely sure the world couldn’t somehow pull it off. Thankfully, nothing happened for the remainder of the night aside from some light chatter amongst the security team. More than once he heard them wondering aloud how exactly a single colt so easily captured twenty-six adults.

When morning finally rolls around and the first of his friends begins to stir, Cure reluctantly frees himself from his dam’s warm embrace, disconnects from his plants, and joins the other foals on the nearby bed. Heavy is the first to wake, groggily nuzzling against Glacial’s side. That causes the platinum filly to start moving too, waking Drift and Wind who had snuggled together in a wing embrace that Cure could barely hold himself from diving into.

After a few minutes of yawning, stretching, and nuzzling into each other the entire troop slowly comes to, yawning and looking around before recognizing the unfamiliar sleeping area and remembering what was going on the night before.

As biological needs reveal themselves everypony takes turns using the facilities, getting drinks in the kitchenette, and gathering for breakfast. Orders are placed along with some extra for Lucky and the security guards. As the foals mill about Cure gathers his parents and gives them all a summary of the night before.

“Twenty six?” Lemon asks, brows clear up into her mane. “Sweet Celestia, Cure! Who did you piss off?”

“At this point it basically has to be some kind of noble. I don’t suppose anypony knows the going rate for a dozen-strong band of pony mercenaries?”

“I bet yer uncle would,” Amethyst points out. “Offhoof I’d guess at least twenty grand, though. Probably a lot more if they knew they were goin after a foal.”

“I would expect less,” Vines comments.

“Huh-uh,” Amethyst immediately disagrees, shaking her head. “Think about how much trouble yer riskin if ya get caught.”

“Yea, the boss lady is going to be pissed,” Cure nods in agreement. “I bet we’re in for some warm weather today.”

“It gets hotter when she’s angry?” Deed asks.

“I’m not sure,” Cure admits with a shrug. “Maybe? It wouldn’t blow my mind.” Cure pauses, frowning in thought for a moment. “Damn, maybe I should fill her in outside.”

“How exactly are you going to tell her?” Title asks.

Cure stops to think for a moment, then his eyes widen comically huge. “I just had a great idea! Oh, but before we do that, are you guys okay with me going to meet with that dragoness? Who knows when I’ll get another opportunity to meet one?”

“Son ya just had a little under thirty po… creatures tryin to abduct ya,” Deed starts. “Or whatever the zebras had planned. Donchya think maybe ya oughta keep a low profile ‘till we arrive?”

“I doubt it matters at this point, pa. Whoever sent them after me clearly knows who I am. If there’s any more on the train I doubt they’d be bold enough to make a move on me with everypony up and about, especially after last night. Even if there are, nothin’s stoppin me from taking them out too.”

Sighing, Deed begrudgingly agrees.

“You’re taking Arcane with you,” Vines insists. “Arcane and at least one other guard, just in case. And your sire.”

“That’s fair. I’ll check my vine to see if she’s even up and about before we go.”

Once food arrives Cure, Solar, and Deed take some to the security guards. Cure takes the opportunity to check over the prisoners and finds that his plant is doing a good enough job. A few had gotten a little dehydrated and apparently Arcane and the other unicorn had to use a Cleaning cantrip a few times when one or another peed in their extended sleep, but aside from those minor inconveniences everything else had gone well.

Cure filled the teapot with water a few times and brought it back to his plant, then set it up to keep each prisoner hydrated. After checking his vine he finds the dragoness is done eating and, presumably, is headed back to her sleeper cab. With his security escort he quickly takes off to intercept her, finding her just outside her cab ready to duck back inside.

The meeting wasn’t particularly fun; she was rude and dismissive until he demonstrated, on his own leg, the difference between her current yellow and the gold that he is proposing. The dragoness was immensely distrusting, repeatedly asking what’s in it for him. Between his explanation of his mark “compelling” him to use it and the allure of the free alteration she hesitantly agreed to the deal.

Actually changing her scale color was a struggle, though. Apparently dragon scales are fairly magic-resistant, a fact Cure hadn’t anticipated in this world. He’d been aware that in many works of fiction that was the case, but he didn’t recall ever seeing any indication that was the case in the show, particularly with Spike. Of course, dragons weren’t all primarily quadrupedal in the show either and he figures maybe the dragon’s hatching process would be unusual enough to explain the difference.

Regardless, he had enough magic to make the change even if it did almost completely tap him out, something that would normally take over a dozen ponies’ coat jobs. At least the new golden luster of her scales completely flipped her attitude, going from semi-hostile and suspicious to friendly and oddly touchy in under a minute.

After saying goodbye to the dragoness, Citrine, Cure and his escort returned to the car to rejoin all of the others. It was at that point that the gathered foals cornered the colt and demanded to know who the hay the unknown ponies were and where they’d come from.

“Eh, don’t worry about ‘em,” he insists. “They’re just security ponies I hired to provide an escort. They work for my great grandsire normally. In fact, one of them is my Uncle Lucky… though I guess technically he’s my dad’s cousin, so I don’t think ‘uncle’ is exactly right.”

“But why are they staying in the last car?” Rising asks. “I thought that was just storage and luggage and stuff.”

“It was,” he explains, “but we kinda had to borrow it after a few jerks came and tried to steal my trees last night. Uncle Lucky and the security ponies were in one of the sleeper cars just ahead of us waiting to ambush any troublemaker.”

“So wait,” Coast interrupts, “somepony tried to steal your trees last night and your uncle and his security team took them out without us even waking up?”

“We carried them through the car after I made sure they wouldn’t wake up,” Cure says, dodging the question. “It really wasn’t a big deal; Solar and my sire lended a hoof for a little bit, but once he saw there wasn’t any problem my sire went back to sleep. Solar and I stayed up a little later ‘cause I had to hook everyone up to a few plants to keep ‘em from waking up. That’s why they’re using the storage car. And Drift?”

The purple filly perks up, “Huh?”

“I have a very special assignment for you.”

“You do? What?”

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to deliver a missive to Her Highness, Princess Celestia, at the royal palace prior to our arrival in the capital. I am sending you with the scroll she mailed to us along with a note from myself informing her of the attempt. It’s urgent and I cannot trust anypony else to act appropriately. Do you think you can do it?”

The filly, nearly vibrating in excitement, eagerly nods.

“I’m going with her,” Wind Shear insists.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Cure agrees. “I expect her to send a squad of Royal Guards, or maybe even come-” he pauses at the knocking on the door. Glancing over, he watches as Solar opens it to the three guard mares he’d seen boarding the night before.

“Cure?” Solar calls, “Can you come here for a second?”

“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” he says, trotting to join the red colt. “Sup?”

“These three are here to deliver your trees to her highness,” he flatly explains, looking like he believes not a single word they’ve said.

“Really?” Cure asks, looking the three over.

The unicorn nods her head. “Yes sir. We have written orders right here,” she waves a scroll before tucking it back in her armor, “saying we are to deliver the trees as soon as we arrive.”

“Oh, that’s convenient,” Cure comments with a nod. “Just a sec.” Cure turns around and walks into the closet, sliding the trees out one at a time, then waving at them. “Just don’t eat any of the fruits yet. They need to be tested and all that, ya know? I don’t want anypony accidentally overdosing.”

“Sure, you bet.” The unicorn floats the trees over to her subordinates, setting one on each’s back. As she’s leaving she waves a hoof over her withers, calling back, “Thanks, colt. We’ll see you at the castle.”

As soon as the door shuts, Solar looks at Cure and asks, “So… were those some kind of bomb or something? I mean, you know damn well that there’s no way those three were legit, right?”

“Duh. Yeah, once they pluck a fruit off the trees it will release a swarm of those wasp things. Unlike the ones from last night the venom just itches instead of paralyzes. And believe you me, it will itch like Tartarus.”

Solar gives the colt an alarmed look, but Cure holds a hoof up to forestall what he knows the older colt is about to say. “They’re all completely sterile and can’t eat, so it’s not like I’m releasing some plague or whatever. There’s also a chemical tracer in those things that I’ll be able to follow for months. Hopefully they’re not smart enough to test them in a sealed environment.”

“Ahh,” he nods in understanding. “Gotchya. Are you planning on coming back at some point in the next few months?”

“Yeah, probably. That suit I made last night?” Solar nods. “I can make, basically, a biological flying machine. Or just a suit that looks like a pony as opposed to that thing,” he says.

“Oh, so that’s what your sire was talking about last night. The flying machine thing.”

“Yep. I could fly it from Golden Hills to the capital in an hour, hour and a half probably. I dunno about you, but I much prefer that over a ten hour train ride. Speaking of which, it looks like we’re almost there.” Cure heads back and grabs a paper and his fountain pen out of his saddlebag and sits down to write.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I hope you have had a wonderful day so far despite the early hour, and feel I must apologize in advance for potentially ruining it, even if the fault is not my own. My friends, family, and I are currently onboard the train arriving soon (or perhaps arrived by the time this reaches you) from Baltimare. Unfortunately I must inform you that the journey was not without incident.

At approximately midnight three groups approached our private car with malicious intent. Four minotaurs, ten zebras, and twelve ponies each made an attempt to either foalnap me, destroy or steal the trees, or both. I’m afraid I don’t have more information to provide as I did not take the liberty to interrogate each one. Each group was rendered unconscious nonviolently and all twenty six beings are alive and well, though sedated and securely bound.

Three other ponies identifying themselves as Royal Guards took custody of the trees just a few minutes ago, though they are unaware that what they took are not real antiviral units. If you see them and they are really yours, I highly recommend they be reminded not to remove any fruit. If they are not yours I would ask that you consider allowing them to get away with stealing the trees. Nothing overly bad will happen and, with some luck, we will be able to identify the true culprit.

I have asked my friends, Crosswind Drift and her sister Wind Shear, to deliver this message to you. Drift has expressed an interest in traveling and, perhaps, doing courier work when she grows up, so it is my hope that in accomplishing this task she is able to earn her cutie mark.

I have also given her the letter you sent to me regarding our invitation to the palace with the assumption that it will give her the opportunity to speak to you directly. I can only assume plenty of ponies, foals in particular, ask to speak to you, so hopefully that will be sufficient to get past your guards.

I would ask that a contingent of guards suitably equipped to take custody of the brigands be dispatched at your earliest convenience. I would normally just contact any passing guard, but I’m afraid that, at this point, I am leery of trusting anypony that does not report directly to your esteemed self.

Despite the unexpected challenges presented, I, along with all of my traveling companions, look forward to our meeting.

With warm regards,
Cure Wave

Cure uses a low powered Warming cantrip on the paper and blows on it until the ink is dry, then carefully folds it. It takes some digging through the drawers to find a wax seal kit, but that’s a standard thing in luxury hotel rooms and, apparently, train cars. After sealing the envelope he uses a Warming cantrip again to soften the wax, then makes an impression of his mark with a raised surface of his hoof, ensuring the princess will recognize the sender at a glance.

“Drift, Wind?” he calls, getting the girls’ attention. He passes Drift the letter along with the rolled up scroll that the princess had sent to him and his family. “Are you going to be able to fly off the train while it’s still moving?”

The pair look out the window to judge how fast the train is going. Unsurprisingly, while going up the mountain, the answer is “not very fast at all” so they turn back and assure him they can do so safely.

“Excellent. Just take this to the palace. You’ll certainly be stopped by the guard. Inform them that a special guest is to arrive at the palace today by invitation of the princess and present them the scroll.

“Tell them that said guest has had an urgent matter come up and has prepared a letter that you,” he says, pointing at Drift, “must deliver to the princess herself. It’s perfectly fine if they need to run any kind of scans or security tests on the letter, so don’t freak out if they do. Drift, I want you to take this letter,” he taps her bag again to emphasize, “and give it directly to her highness. Got it?”

“Okay…” Drift suspiciously agrees.

“You have your Sending crystals, right?”

They nod and Drift pauses, asking, “Why not just Send a message to the princess that way?”

He explains, “I’m willing to bet money the palace has some kind of enchantment that prevents that. I’m leery of even trying, to be honest. Are you two ready?”

“Yep,” they chorus.

“Awesome. Let’s go,” he says, motioning to the back of the train. As they get close he leans in to nuzzle with Wind and whispers, “Let Drift hoof it over. I’ll explain why later.” He gets a nod in return, then turns to open the door.

The pair follow him out and, with a quick goodbye, spread their wings and jump off the railing, taking to the air. When he returns to the car without them his dam, back to lounging in bed, asks what happened.

“I sent ‘em to the palace,” he casually explains.

“You let those two fillies fly off of a moving train up a mountain alone?!”

“They have their Sending crystals, dam. They’re fine. Any idea how much longer?” He hops on the bed, climbs over her forelegs, and lays with his dock pressing into her chest.

Sighing, she shakes her head no and lays down on top of him, nuzzling into his mane. “Not long if it’s like last time.”

“Wake me when we get there?”

“Sure, sweetie.”

Cure barely gets fifteen minutes of sleep before his dam wakes him up. After checking on the security team and ensuring the prisoners are in good health he returns to the car and quickly works to withdraw his vine. Fortunately pulling it back is a quicker, easier process than running it originally.

Using a combination of the TK and lightening auras to keep it hidden in the top corner of each car, he has it pull back like a long tentacle, reabsorbing the epoxy holding it in place and casting a Mending to repair any damage as it retracts. He finishes reassembling the plants in their pots just a moment before they pull into the station.

“Why are Drift and Wind standing with that pony?” Rising asks, pointing a hoof out the window.

Cure hops up on the bench next to her, finding the three along with three Royal Guard pegasi. The mare in question is a white pegasus, only a hoof taller than Wind, with a white coat, pink mane, and a cutie mark depicting the sun with small clouds on either side of it. He doesn’t bother holding back the eye roll when the six board the train as soon as it comes to a stop.

“Well let’s review the facts, RP. They went to deliver a letter to the princess and they, with three Royal Guards, were standing with a white coated mare with a sun cutie mark. Anypony wanna wager on who that is?”

“You think that’s the princess?!” she asks in a shout.

“Duh?” he maturely replies.

“It couldn’t be,” she insists, shaking her head no.

Baffled by her denial he can only ask, “What? Why?”

“She was too short,” Dawn explains.

“Yeah, dude,” Heavy adds, “she doesn’t have a horn either.”

“I didn’t see a crown,” Ferric supplies.

Deed nods in agreement, “Maybe it’s her aide?”

Cure looks at the gathered ponies in utter bewilderment. “But… she … wait, are you all messing with me?”

“Huh uh, the princess had a prettier mane, too,” Cherry points out.

“Mmhmm,” Lotus agrees. “It was soft and swooshy too!” she shouts waving her hooves about.

“Yeah, the princess doesn’t have a pink mane or tail, Cure,” Dawn explains. “You had to have noticed that when you met her.”

“Yep,” her brother agrees, “That was definitely not her.”

“The pink was pretty, though,” Glacial observes. “It was really close to your color, Mrs. Search.”

Said mare beams at the compliment. “Aww, thanks, sweetie. Hear that, Savvy babe? Cure’s fillyfriend thinks our coats are pretty!”

Sapphire walks up to Cure, wraps him in a hug, and plants a big kiss on his cheek. “It’s okay, Cure. You’re just overtired, that’s all.” She gives him a friendly nuzzle before backing away.

“Coast, you believe me, right?” Cure asks, turning to his sister’s older, reverse color twin.

She takes a moment to look between literally everypony else and the colt, then slowly nods in agreement. “Sure, I believe you, Cure. That’s definitely Princess Celestia in disguise.”

“Oh, good,” he says with a relieved sigh. “I was starting to get worried y’all had some spell on ya or something.”

As soon as he turns away she twirls a hoof by her head and mouths “crazy” to everypony else.

“Well whoever it is,” he rolls his eyes again, “I better go make sure the prisoners are ready for her. I’ll be right back,” he yells, quickly running to the next car over giggling mischievously the whole way. He trots back in the room only a moment later barely holding back a laugh, getting confused and slightly worried looks from everypony. “So is the mare that’s definitely not the princess here yet?” he teasingly asks.

“I think so,” Starlight says, pointing at the door, “somepony’s here, at least.”

Cure turns as the door slides open and, before anypony else can make it through, a purple missile flies in, latching onto Cure, wrapping around him in a blur of feathers. The blur materializes into a blue maned filly, kissing and nuzzling all over the colt and babbling excitedly well beyond speeds any mortal could possibly understand.

“It worked?” he asks, not even able to get a look at Drift’s flanks.

“It did,” the white mare answers with a smile and a nod as she enters the car. “Greetings, everypony. I’m -”

“Sunny Skies?” Cure asks, catching the mare by surprise. All the other foals are staring in shock at Drift and her new mark while listening in.

“... Yes? I’m sorry, have we met before, young stallion?”

As the two chat, Wind and the three guards make their way in the room. Despite her sister still latching onto Cure, now laying on his back with her wings and legs wrapped around his barrel and chest, Wind gives him a quick nuzzle and moves aside.

“Hmm… maybe. I could be mistaken, I suppose,” he concedes. The mare certainly smells like the princess and, to his heat sense, feels warmer than normal, but if she’s trying to maintain a disguise he doesn’t want to ruin it more than he already has.

A quick glance at his parents makes him think they’ve come to the same conclusion. They’re definitely picking up the scent and heat; at least his sire, dam, and Title have caught it. Amethyst and Lemon lacked the heat sensors and improved sense of smell at her last visit.

“Be that as it may, the princess dispatched us to verify the state of the alleged… I believe ‘brigands’ was the word you used?” she asks with a smirk.

There’s a group-wide snort of laughter at the antiquated term. Cure ignores the laughing, focusing on the mare. “Drift, did you see the princess show my letter to anypony?”

“No, but she took it with her” she answers, still nuzzling into his mane. “She read it then told me she,” she points to Sunny, “would meet us with guards to come until a full platoon could be sent and had us wait for them,” she now motions to all four, “on a balcony. Then we flew here.”

The mare’s smirk falters, but she quickly rallies. “I was informed of the contents of the letter,” she defiantly explains.

“Uh huh,” he noncommittal mumbles. “Well, right this way, please,” he says, waving to the back of the car. Drift gives him one last nuzzle as she climbs off his back, then runs over to tackle Glacial in a hug.

Starlight leans over to her coltfriend and whispers, “Shouldn’t his parents be taking care of this?”

“I’m pretty sure Cure can take care of it just fine,” he replies.

Cure leads Sunny and her guards back through the car. When a couple of the fillies begin to follow, Deed calls them back, insisting they don’t need to see the “bad ponies” that tried to steal Cure’s trees. The guards stop just inside the cargo car while the mare follows Cure past the initial entryway.

Sunny is apparently unprepared for the scene she walks into. The minotaurs, zebras, and ponies are all spread amongst the room, sat upon luggage and shelves like they themselves have been packed away; a necessity with the limited space and the number of beings. A single vine leads to each one, hooking into an arm or foreleg, and sitting atop each one’s forehead is a red silk bow.

“Why… do they have bows on them?” is the first question that comes to mind.

Cure outright guffaws at the question. “Well,” he pauses to stop laughing for a moment. A few of the security ponies chuckle at the scene as well. They’d looked at him weirdly when he ran in the room and made the shrubs sprout a bunch of bows all the sudden, but they thought it was funny enough they agreed to slap one on each prisoner while he went back to fetch the group. “I didn’t have time to wrap them, ya see? So I figured I should at least put a pretty bow on each one.”

“Cure Wave…” she starts in the kind of tone that can only be pulled off by somepony who is just flat out done with the day. She lets out an exhausted sigh and points a wingtip at a few of the zebras. “Regardless of their state,” she gives the snickering colt another exasperated look, “I recognize some of them. They were at the Gala three years ago.” She points at another. “That one is a suspected… well, I suppose not anymore, operative. I don’t recognize any of the ponies or minotaurs.”

“Hey Uncle Lucky,” Cure calls, getting the stallion’s attention. “Can you all give us a few, please? I don’t think they’re goin anywhere now. The Guard’s here and the princess has been informed. Ms. Sunny and I have everything under control.”

“Ya sure, colt? I’d really rather leave at least one here.”

“I appreciate it, but even if they woke up right this instant they wouldn’t be able to walk for an hour, let alone get out of those bindings or put up some kinda fight.”

Lucky looks around at the group of secured prisoners. He shares a glance with Arcane who gives him a shrug and a nod. “Alright colt. I’ll leave Boulder,” he motions to a muscular earth pony mare, “outside if ya need anythin.”

“Thanks, Uncle Lucky. Thanks, everypony!” he calls as the security team files out of the room.

Cure walks up to the mare, leaning his withers against her chest and giving her chin a supportive nuzzle. “Heavy is the head, huh?”

She sighs again and he feels her nod. “Saw right through it, didn’t you?”

“Yep. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault ya make such an impression. Besides… Sunny? I mean… come on! Really?!”

Shrugging her wings she defends, “In the seven centuries I’ve used this alias only a hooffull of ponies have figured it out.”

“Is that some weird mind control thing or are most ponies just that naive?”

“The latter. If at all possible, I would prefer to avoid using any form of mind control, even relatively benign ones, for something so mundane as a disguise.”

“True. Mind control crap is one of my biggest fears. That’s one thing I wanted to talk to you about since my talent’s kinda… ya know,” he says, waving to the group.

“All of them? Yourself?”

“Everypony has to breathe. I’ve been working in a hospital and clinic, and there’s a lot of painkillers and sedatives that are found in nature. Only the dose makes the poison, princess.”

“Indeed. Mental defenses are not something I can teach you in a single weekend, but…” she lets out another tired sigh, looking over the cramped room. “Well… we will discuss this later.”

“Ya know, I figured you would be inordinately pissed about this whole mess. You seem awfully chill about it.”

“Oh I assure you, I am well beyond furious, Cure. When you’ve had as much experience dealing with foolishness as I have, you learn to control your emotions.”

“I suppose,” he agrees with a nod. “I said something along those lines to my sire once.” He feels her look down curiously at him. He glances up and explains, “I told him you probably have to have a lot of control over your emotions or you could slip up and cook some idiot.” She doesn’t quite wince, but the start of a cringe passes over her face at the suggestion, and Cure wonders if that may have actually happened once before.

“Well, regardless,” he continues, “we probably need to figure out what we’re doing about the luggage in here, not to mention how you would like to go about taking custody, transport, and all the other crap that goes along with this sorta thing.”

She pauses, looking down at the colt still leaning against her. “You don’t act like most ponies do around me. In fact, you do not act like a foal at all.”

“I figure you get enough flank kissing from everypony else. Also, my talent shows me a lot of stuff a foal probably shouldn’t see. Besides, as you know and as history has shown, it’s too dangerous in the hooves of somepony that’s immature.”

“True,” she concedes. “I will have them transported via closed carriages to the castle. We don’t actually have room in the dungeons for so many, but there’s a Guard barracks that can be easily converted. Why do the minotaurs have ‘Fool’ written on them?”

“Their leader said their honor demanded they fulfill the obligations of their agreement. I told them they had no honor, taking a job to attack a car full of foals, and that I would label them as cowards for all to see. I felt that ‘Fool’ was more appropriate given they at least had the guts to try, though, so I went with that instead.”

“Guts to try?” she asks, giving him an evaluating look. “Four minotaurs against a hooffull of security ponies in an enclosed train is not so one sided a fight, I would imagine.”

“I used a trick on ‘em. Like I said, this was all me. We’ll talk about that later too, I reckon.”

“Hmm. They may seek vengeance for the insult someday. You do realize this?”

“If they have the opportunity to, I will be very disappointed in the Equestrian justice system. Besides, I only changed the top layer colors. They’ll go back to normal in a few weeks.”

“Ah. A warning of what may have been,” she says, nodding in understanding. “Regardless, you are right; they likely will not be free for quite a long time. The judge will certainly factor that their crime is against a foal. The others as well. Come, let us see if my guards have arrived.” She leans down and gives him a quick nuzzle, then turns to walk back outside, pausing to look over her withers at the door. “Oh, and Cure?”

“Hrm?”

“I realize this is not your fault, but please try not to create too much more work for me while you are here.”

The innocent smile he gives her does not inspire confidence.

Author's Note

So I had previously said I would like to release the Canterlot arc in shorter, faster bursts. Then I started writing and the chapters are loooooooong. Add in the fact that I got kinda hooked to a game I bought... yeah.

60 & 61 are done, 62 is, I hope more than half way done (it's around 7k right now). I expect 63 to be longer, then 64 should wrap up the arc according to my plans, but I think by now everyone has a fairly good idea of how absolutely freaking awful I am at sticking to those. The tentative plan is for maybe 5-6 more chapters before the end of the story year, but... yeah. We'll see how that goes (insert eye roll here).

Spoiler for something in the chapter - Really don't read this if you skipped to the A/N first, unless you want to know something that happens about 80% of the way through.
Drift gaining her mark may strike some as oddly simple. This is touched on in-story a couple times over the next chapter or two.

As for the parents barely batting an eye at everything that happened? They've been getting mentally prepped for something crazy for MONTHS now. They're the only beings on the planet (that we know of!) that have a fairly good idea of just how ridiculously dangerous Cure really is. The only real surprise for them at this point is that he was so merciful in his methods of subduing them, something that will be addressed later as well.

As always, thanks for reading!