Chapter 1: Trainstation, Pegasus, Oops.
Author's Note
hmm yes write this in two hours with no proofreading what could go wrong?
Chapter 1: Trainstation, Pegasus, Oops.
It’s said that Green Highfire Lines (Green to anybeing he introduced himself to) was excellent at anything, all the way to screwing the thing up. This was half the truth. His cutie mark was vague and his best talent thus far had been improvisation, or the art of the confidence trick.
The Neighponese Battle Drill comes to mind; developed by a heir to a throne of which both have been lost to all but the Diarchs’ memory, it involved one overcoming guard patrols of one’s objective by imitating a superior and browbeating the guard patrols on their readiness.
Of course in practice, this has some issues, notably of which is when you run up against the limits of lying one’s flank off, or the drillees becoming wise. In the heir’s case, that one eventually made the guards into shining exemplars, which was very odd as they were previously known to be somewhat slovenly.
As it turned out, a superior officer noticed them on watch and asked what caused their sudden improvement. They replied another superior officer had been checking in on them at night.
Curious, the officer accompanied them, and discovered the heir. Depending on telling, the heir was sent home in good grace, or the subject of that one’s affections was indeed the officer.
===
Sighing, the young stallion made his way out of the station shelter. While in the larger cities and most towns they’d have pegasi patrolling and keeping the weather clear, Velkaville had a Skyguard Squadron whose main job was to keep the clouds from killing anypony.
Generations of Velkaville’s finest had blasted, pied, lambasted, vaporized and in one case, pleaded with, the feral weather systems to cease and desist, with the end result being little except for the town library rapidly filling with weather-control literature of excellent quality.
Green was, in a word, out of roads to run up. He’d talked and… Stretched the truth into every job, from farrier to medic to even a gunsmith’s forge. With every job fewer had offered a job with the resulting catastrophe.
I’m pretty good at ducking now, at least, the gently greened stallion thought. About the one thing he had to be proud of was his well honed reflexes; after dodging various pastries, assorted hoof-weaponsfire, and the occasional anger propelled flowerpot, he’d gotten pretty good at it!
Well, one of two.
The other was a decent coat; it had his father’s gray with just a dash of green. The rude might say his fur looked like it was washed out but he thought it paired well with his mane, which he kept at a military crop for… Well, reasons.
Mostly to prevent whistles and solicitations.
…if this keeps up I might just consider a brothel. I mean, c’mon Green, you’re a strapping young stallion with a face that folks’d kill for!
He considered his reflection in a puddle a little while further, then snorted. He’d inherited quite a lot from his mother, including an easy to keep mane, her fairly tough composure, but unfortunately, also the looks of a mare. Apparently, it was to the point where the doctor had to hastily scribble out an s when signing his paperwork.
Sighing, he went to sit down for the train, working one wing and then the other. Can’t let those exercises slip Green, you gotta beat Azure when you see her again!
“Pfft. Maybe.” He sighed again, frowned, and resolved to stop doing that. It was a bad habit that he’d almost kicked, damnit!
After about a minute, the pegasus opted for the age-old respite of anyone with nothing else to do: Rubberneck.
So, he cast his eyes about the station. It was old, but holding up strong; Code Maker’s handiwork.
A smile pulled across his face at the thought of the stubborn old stallion, who’d done a year in the Guard, and come back with an architecture degree of all things.
Velkaville was like that. Village full of madfolk, griffish and pony alike. Small, sure, but it had the sort of people that knocked the socks off travelers… Once literally.
He shuddered. The Custard Maker 7500 had lead to its product being classified as a weapon in village limits for good reason…
Distracted as he was by the haunting battles for pastry supremacy and the screams of the unfortunate tourists that’d been in town, his eyes roamed further.
“Huh. Who left this here?” He blinked, and leaned over. He could’ve sworn the seat was empty when he’d sat down, but here was a saddlebag with an umbrella and…
“A glamour?”
Green considered. He’d gotten decent grades in Basic Magic and Advanced Spellcraft, but by necessity he’d been kept out of all but Runic Fundamentals and later nearly flunking out of Runeforging I. Still, even to his eyes this wasn’t anything to be trifled with.
Then again, poking magic usually results in expensive naps and waking up to a nice nurse. The pegasus made a few false starts, as curiosity and common sense had a four round boxing match somewhere north of his brain stem. Eventually, curiosity got the knockout like it always did, though by an increasingly slim margin.
“Someone with an awful lotta skills and bits made you, huh?” Carefully extending a hoof, he made contact…
Nothing.
“…huh. Just a bag.”
With some searching, he found a seal, faded but still standing boldly against the sturdy canvas. “R-E-M-S?”
The insignia helped jog his memory; then again it did have an envelope sitting on it. “Royal Equestrian Mail Service?”
All told, it was a very good bag…
…and somepony might well pay good money for me giving it back! Green grinned.
“Buck me sideways, we’ve got a START! Haha!” The young stallion cheered, and then glanced around to make sure he was alone…
Before breaking into a silly little dance that he’d swear up, down, on the sun and moon that he’d never done except for once in his life when he was a little colt and really excited for Hearth’s Warming day-
===
The train arrived, and as per usual there were only ones coming off. Green checked his ticket carefully.
“Appleloosa, here I come…!” he said under his breath, quickly heading into Car No 3.
In the meanwhile, a little red light appeared on a very big board, unnoticed for the moment.
Chapter 3: Dossier, Sled, Stare.
“So, what does this do…?” Green gave Zedaka’s gift a look. It was a small, oddly shaped charm, that if he was being uncharitable might’ve been the bastard son of a ribbon and a twig.
It certainly felt like it was humming with… Something, but beyond that, the Zebrican magic felt incomprehensible. I really should’ve taken that Foreign Magics class, huh?
“This is a simple talisman I have made. It makes you less noticeable, so be not afraid.” She gave it one last pat and something felt like it… Clicked, in his body.
“So, zebra stealth magic? Thanks! This… Actually might help a lot!” He turned a small circle, giving it a once over as it dinly glowed with some inner green light.
“What did you expect, a bottle of water and good wishes? I hardly want you to sleep with the fishes.” The zebra rolled her shoulders with a clicking noise.
“Now, I have more homework in potions to brew. …just between you and me, I wish I did not have this to do. With all this work, I can hardly come after you.”
The pegasus nodded. She’d let him use the bathroom to wash off the mud and get a couple twigs from his mane, though she’d nearly kicked him out after she realized she left a rubber ducky in there. I can’t really talk. I slept with a plushie until a year ago…
The door knocked again, somewhat insistent, like a constable rapping a hoof against the door of a bunch of underaged drinkers. “You wanna go get that?”
“…stay here Green, I’m afraid our visitors may be somewhat mean.” A click and quiet charging noise like a flash capacitor built. The trigger bit came into her mouth.
With a few quiet clicks, her cloak settled around her, and the pegasus caught a glimpse that implied perhaps something a little more sturdy.
She opened the door-
THUD! Immediately, a thick metal retaining chain went taut as the door crashed against it. Green almost fell over himself trying to get away, as the wooden door sounded like it was about to give out any moment.
THUD! ZEKZEKZEK- Dancing to the side in some Zebra fighting pose, the rifle barked green flashes as the wood door flared with golden runes.
“Hurry young stallion, it shall not hold! If we leave now, we should both grow old!”
The pegasus glanced around. The hut’s living room had two porthole style windows, but he didn’t trust them. If they were outside the door, they could be hiding just under the sill. “Roof access! Where’s the roof access?!”
“Follow me!” The zebra shouted something in her native language at the door and it glowed with another rim of green, but at the next blow some of them flared and burnt out.
The two of them ran through a kitchen and into a bedroom. A four poster bed with mosquito netting decorated with some bits of paper that had their own gently glowing green symbols sat in the middle, a desk with still smoldering candles that he suposed were the source of the incense smell in the corner.
“What now?”
Zedaka didn’t answer, the part time shaman part time gunmare grabbing a well concealed rope and yanking it.
“Up this ladder is how!” And with a clatter of hooves that seemed much too agile for her, she disappeared up it.
“Oh you gotta be kidding me.” Closing the door behind him, for all the good it’d do, Green scrambled to get himself up the ladder, finding himself in an attic. A dozen cardboard boxes and one strangely discolored crate sat scattered around, as the zebra fiddled with a trapdoor on the roof.
Down the ladder there was a loud WHACK and a sound like the splitting of plate glass. Like any decent pony would do, the pegasus pulled up the ladder and closed the hatch.
Then pushed a crate over it.
“Can you fly the both of us?”
“I-maybe? I’m not the strongest flyer, but I can try…!”
“Good, the defenses should keep the spirits at bay, though even now I can see they’re starting to fray.”
“Right, how’re we doin this?”
===
“You…hhgh, need to lose… Weight!”
“…I will admit I should be up and about, but please, I’m right here, do you have to shout?”
“How, much further?” The forest passed by at a decent rate, but between the rain, wind, and a zebra, he was starting to get tired. Thankfully the storm had somewhat abated.
Zedaka whispered a few things to herself, glanced around, and came up with an answer. “A few more minutes should be fine, if you don’t mind.”
"I don’t suppose, you have something, to make yourself LIGHTER?’
“That I’m afraid I cannot do. I’m sorry to say you must carry the full weight of us two.”
“Oh my aching wings…”
As they finally landed in a clearing, Green staggered and banged into a tree. “Ow, fuck…!”
“Oof-” The zebra fell on her side, getting up with a wince.
“Right, that’s it. That’s a wrap, I’m gonna see you tomorrow. G’night.” The stallion checked the ground and made to lie down before two strong hooves took him.
“Whoa-”
He found himself lying on a sled, Zedaka grinning back at him. “You may sleep on the sled, though I imagine it a little tough, for I remember this ride being somewhat rough.”
“Meh.” Green Highfire Lines shrugged, curled up, and passed out.
===
“Hrrh… Hmmh?” Those were definitely birds he was hearing, though it was a little warmer than he thought he’d be.
“Zecesa, bring it on…” And that voice was a little closer than he liked.
“…Zedaka?”
“Mmn…” He blinked, shook his head, and took stock.
The two of them were on the sled, but they were under some kind of… Cover? Tent?
Probably enchanted to stop stuff from munching on us. Maybe it’s a big version of my charm?
There was also a heavily armed zebra curled up against his side. “…Zeedaaaka?”
He nudged her with a wing, carefully.
“Eh? Ah, a dream? Did you sleep well?” She rose slightly, peeking under the tarp.
“…yeah, actually. I didn’t do stretches or nothin so I’m kinda surprised I don’t ache like Tartarus…”
“A balm I was practicing, I’m glad it worked.”
“I’m guessing it doesn’t do anything for strained muscles, though?” He said with a wince, as one wing complained.
“I’m afraid all I can do is speed your recovery there.”
Green blinked. “Too early for rhyming?”
“…maybe. It seems we are unwatched. Quickly, break camp and let us begone.” With that, she carefully peeled back the tarp and exited.
The two of them worked in vaguely awkward silence, as tends to happen after a hurried escape from angry spiritual entities. Finally, it was Green that spoke up.
“So, uh, what’re you gonna do about your house?”
The zebra sighed, and shook her heard. “I must leave you in the next town we find, for I will get the Guard and then give those spirits a piece of my mind.”
“Atcha.” Another short silence, then as the stallion picked up the harness for the sled, Zedaka stopped him.
“Worry not, I’ll run for us, now be a good colt and don’t make a fuss.”
“Gotcha.” He helped the zebra into her harness before a thought struck him. “What’re you doin out here anyways?”
“I am a student, taking my final test. After I’ve learned for a few years, then I may go back and rest.” A wistful smile dances across her face before she shook her head to clear it away.
“What about you, pegasus of the storm? I do hope your entries are not the norm…”
“Uh…” Green chuckled nervously. “Okay, so.”
===
“I’m from Velkaville. Y’know, the little town nearby?”
A schoolhouse, a farm, a general store, and the town’s fortified border. Some familiar faces, and a brother of earth. His coat a little darker, his build a little more properly stallionlike.
“Yes, I go there for supplies from time to time. Though some are out of by my propensity to rhyme.”
“Wait are you the striped spooky pony that Miss Berries was talking about? I-oh Celestia. I’m so sorry…!”
A middle aged mare, somewhat skittish. Her head turns this way and that at any noise. Her coat a deep red, her mane a little lighter and shot through with black streaks. She works a register and kindly sends someone on their way.
“Hmpf. I’ll take that as a compliment, no matter how perverse. I’d rather that then them think I was about to lay upon them a curse.”
“That happen often?”
“Indeed it does, I’m sad to say. One of our first to prominence, Zecora, of her the village nearby was quite afraid.”
“I… Think I’ve heard that name before.”
“Stubborn old nag that she was, she stayed there for years. She went back to Zebrica eventually though, when she could barely hear.”
“…wait, I think I remember where I heard that name. Didn’t she and Luna hook up over a bottle of whiskey?”
“…Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ve heard tales of her being a terrible flirt.”
“…the princess or Zecora?”
“Yes.”
===
In the throne room, a dark blue alicorn sneezes, bowling over an unfortunate guardspony. “Hmh. Someone is speaking ill of me.”
“Sister, please. Thats just a Chineighse superstition. Corporal Firestrike, are you alright?”
The guard in question gets to his feet. “Yes ma’am. Should I get some tissues?”
===
It wasn’t on purpose. I’m not a pervert.
…that said it was a very nice, well toned flank with muscle that an earth pony would be proud of. Zedaka definitely put in the time to stay fit, or maybe it was just the rigors of living out here.
Her mane and tail were cut battle short, probably to prevent snags, and he’d gotten a glimpse of her cloak. It was armored and probably enchanted, a couple segmented steel plates guarding her body.
There was nothing else to watch, though, and she-
No, bad Green. Do not stare at the nice zebra who’s helping you. No matter how hypnotic her stripes and tail are.
“…”
I mutter a curse and stretch my wings, testing the strain. Better than it used to be but still, I’d only fly on it if I had to.
“…hey, Zedaka?”
“?” She makes a questioning noise. I sigh, make a few false starts, and resolve myself.
“I think I’m bad luck. Can you check for that?”
“…what?”
===
“Ma’am, we’ve got an unregistered addition to the inducted rolls.”
The aging mare glanced across the screens in the dim regional command center. Her stentorian voice matched her immaculate suit jacket as she took a drag from the cigar. “Dossier?”
“Right here ma’am.” The folder floated into her wings and she gave the insides a brief lookover.
Coordinator Rapid Response raised her eyebrow in a well practiced gesture. “…this, Green Highfire Lines. Are-”
“Yes. Yes this is the right photo.”
“…regardless, he seems ordinary. The only exception seems to be the number of jobs he has held and means of exit.” The page turns.
There was a silence, long enough for Rapid to glance over at her subordinate, finding him scuffing a good against the deck nervously. “That’s… What I’m worried about, ma’am. According to our analytical engine, he’s bad luck. Model H.”
The folder fell out of her wings and into the floor. “A Model H probabilizer?!”
“…yes ma’am.”
“…scramble patrols Able, Jasper, Regal, Forest and have X-ray on standby. Also, interrogate the spiritual team. We aren’t letting this one fuck us.”
===
“Hmm. Even if your tale is true, I will not be so quick to abandon you.” Zedaka and Green had stopped, taking shelter in a copse of trees. The latter was a moment from grazing before the zebra stopped him, and started a small fire with a whispered word and green flash.
“Mfh- you really should. Also this is really really good!” Now, he had his muzzle buried in a stew. It’s cook had to hold back a laugh, gently sipping from her own bowl.
“For one thing I do not want your death to weigh in my soul, for another thing out here, it’s better to have two watching for the moles.”
“Well-”
“Though I would appreciate you taking fewer looks at my flank, I do have a mare at home awaiting me who would… Perhaps not of you thank.” Pegasus throat spat soup and then entered a hacking cough as Green choked on his meal.
Eventually, he survived, though he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “…oh ponyfeathers.”
The zebra laughed now, a proper laugh that edged into hysterical. “Oh goodness I am sorry, so sorry, that was unfair… Though I will admit I do truly have a mare.”
“I-Oooh you’re gonna get it.” Green produced a bright orange foam pistol and leveled it. “Yer 'onna phay fer aht.”
Zedaka affected shock, gasping theatrically. “Ancestors preserve me, my companion a backstabber! Oh I should have confessed while I had her…!”
Pap! And then she collapsed dramatically, gasping. “Alas, I… am slain by your hoof. I must beg… That you ferry a letter to… Zevera… Tell her she deserved much better than I… Bleh.”
A moment passed. The pegasus politely clapped, grinning around the pistol in his mouth. “Brahvo, brahvo!”
Righting herself and brushing away some bit of dirt, the zebra grinned back, mocking a bow. “Thank you kindly, thank you kindly, I shall be here all week. Though I must say that my plays are not all for the meek.”
A moment passed, and then Green stashed away his toy. "…though, uh, about that thing. You kinda got me thinking about… Death n stuff.
“Oh? Do tell what thoughts stirred when I was felled.”
“…I’m, uh, parta the mail service now. Job’s kinda dangerous and I don’t got training. And you live in a place where you need that.” He gestured to the rifle with a wing.
“If either of us ends up… Passing before our time, can we exchange letters?” The stallion looked into much more serious eyes.
Zedaka shifted uncomfortably, before hanging her head. “W-well. Certainly a sobering thought, no matter how astute. And as much as I wish, there is nothing for me to refute.”
“…so, I’ll take next pull. You compose a letter to Zedaka?”
“Now-”
“Ain’t an ask. Imma do it. You get writin.” With a grunt, Green got up.
===
…is it a pony thing to stare at flanks with all else naught to do? I fear I’ve been infected by their madness then.
Zedaka laid on the sled, fighting to keep her eyes on the page.
…though perhaps, I only seek to delay the unpleasantness. How does one tell their love that they died in advance?
===
Author's Note
i hate rhyming i hate rhyming i hate rhyming
zedaka will not be staying as permanent companion, she'll be going off at the next guard outpost
