"Sign here and here," the brown earth pony pushed a rosewood tablet with a scroll attached to both sides towards me. I grabbed the quill with my teeth.

Sunlight was streaming in narrow strips from the western windows, dust particles swirling in the rays like golden sparks. The sun was low – the day was drawing to an end, the loan officer was stealthily glancing at her watch on the chain. I had arrived at the bank closer to closing time, having barely snatched an extra half hour from my working hours, and now I felt awkward, forcing the pony to work overtime on the day before a holiday.

“That's it, congratulations on getting your loan”, the pony put her hoof print and put her seal on the scroll. “Do you prefer to receive the funds in cash or deposit them into a bank account?”

“On the account, please. “

“Then wait another ten minutes until the checkbook is processed,” the pony sighed furtively.

Finally, all the paperwork was completed, and I became the happy owner of a stack of notes in a satin cover with gold embossing in the form of a gilded horseshoe. We both breathed a sigh of relief.

“The banking office of Goldenhoof and Sons is pleased to welcome you among ours borrowers,” the pony blurted out in a frankly rapid-fire voice. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No, no, I don’t need,” I rose from my chair. Relief flashed in the bank employee's eyes.

I came out onto the threshold of an old building, covered with decorative cobwebs. I crossed the street and settled down on a bench in the park. I started breaking off pieces of a bun and throwing them to the sparrows.

Yev'eni didn't show up. The bun was gone, I studied the newspaper I'd picked up from the nearby kiosk from top to bottom. Including the Equestrian news column, the international section, and an excerpt from a romance novel that was being published in installments.

"- Ethereal Ray!" the warrior said with deep sadness, leaning his front legs on the parapet. The sea was reflected in his eyes like steel. - I cannot be with you! You are a unicorn sorceress. I am a soldier of Pegasopolis. Our duty to our peoples will not allow us...

I placed my hoof on his lips, which I so wanted to kiss.

"I don't care what Princess Platina or your commander wants! My heart tells me something completely different. I know that you are my destiny, and no matter what trials await us in the future..."

“Yaaaaaawn!”

I almost dislocated my jaw. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth with my hoof. I looked around to see if anyone had seen my little embarrassment.

Fortunately, the park was empty. The only witnesses to the yawn were a flock of sparrows. They were just hastily pecking at a bun.

The sun slid down and dove behind the city rooftops. The moon rose to meet it. Lanterns lit up in the treetops – with scary faces painted on them. The holiday was only tomorrow, but many of Manehattan's ponies had already begun decorating their houses and parks.

“Hello!”

I turned around. Yev'eni was standing at the entrance to the park.

“Well, finally!” I trotted towards him.

“How are things with the bank?”

“It's all right, I got a loan. The receipts for the last Hearth Day and the editor's salary were enough for them. So now we have enough to pay the first months' rent.”

“Rent, yes.” Yev'eni sighed. “We were messing around with reagents again today.”

“And how?” I asked hopefully.

“Not really good. The previous samples, the ones with aniline added, started to streak on the second day. Remy said she'd experiment with alcohol-based solvents or something to stop the fading.”

“Well, at least we’re on the right track,” I encouraged the human.

“I hope so,” he sighed. “They’re already looking at me askance at the theater, like, I often ask for time off in the evenings. How are things with you at work?”

I winced.

“You won't believe it, the same crap. It's good that I manage to get all my work done before I leave, but still.”

"Yes," Yev'eni's face hardened. "We need results, and fast."

“Well then, let's go ahead!” I shook my mane.

The human grinned.

“And damn the torpedoes. Let's go see the premises?”

The store was on the corner of Seventh Street, north of Hooflin, on the first floor of a three-story apartment building. The premises were not particularly attractive - the windows were covered with canvas, the door was peeling. It looked like it had once been a cafe, judging by the faded sign across the street.

“Hmm,” Yev'eni looked thoughtfully at the entrance. “Not much traffic. No wonder the previous tenants moved out.”

“There’s an Art Museum just a block away,” I protested. “And behind it is a city park. It’s not the most remote area.”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“Okay, we’re not opening a catering,” he said. “The main thing for us is advertising, not a sign.”

We walked up onto the low porch. I grabbed the hammer in the shape of a draconequus head with my teeth and knocked.

The earth pony, round as a barrel, looked out to meet us and broke into a smile.

“Are you here about the ad, mare?... Oh.”

"We're here about the ad. Are you Neighel Brick?" Yev'eni politely tipped his hat. The earth pony swallowed.

“I... Uh...”

“Well, can we look at the store?” I intervened. “It's already ten o'clock, we'd like to get it done while the metro is open!”

The pony shook his head.

“Yes. Yes. I'm sorry, I'm a little confused.”

He ducked back behind the door. He reappeared immediately, jingling a bunch of keys and a firefly lamp in his teeth.

We introduced ourselves. We approached the next door, between the wide display windows. The lock clanked.

“Here you go,” Neighel, who had calmed down a little, put the lamp and keys on the windowsill. “This is a great place to set up a business. You can put a counter here, and there will still be plenty of room for cabinets with goods…”

"And the storage room?" Yev'eni interrupted him. He was thoughtfully examining the wide windowsills, calculating something.

"Oh, it's over there," the pony nodded toward the back door. We walked down a short corridor, Yev'eni thoughtfully looking around the large empty room with its empty shelves.

“Staff amenities?”

“This side,” Neighel opened the second door, pointing to a small couch, a table, and a cabinet.

There was a squeak. Something dark jumped off the couch, darted across the floor. I gasped and jumped back. Something with a tail jumped onto the table, nimbly climbed onto the cupboard and disappeared.

“What's this?” Yev'eni loomed over the landlord. “A rats?”

"They're not rats!" he objected indignantly. "They're a family of squirrels that moved in from Central Park. Don't worry, they're well trained and obedient. They can get goods from the top shelves, they can write out receipts for customers.”

Yev'eni swallowed. His hand lightly touched my shoulder, the gesture we had agreed upon half an hour ago.

“Are they included in the health certificate?” I asked, remembering the brochure the human had brought yesterday.

“Of course. Do you want to see?”

“A little later,” Yev'eni pulled himself together. “And what about the lighting? We plan to work in the dark, and we may need to connect equipment.”

“Well, I can offer you some great firefly lamps for just...”

"That won't do," the human interrupted. "Electric or magical. Your firefly lamps are too dim, and we'll be doing delicate work."

The pony rubbed the back of his head with his hoof.

“Well, the building is wired to the Manehattan Dynamics grid. For five hundred bits, we can run the wiring here. Or for four hundred, I can sell you a set of light crystals, but you'll have to do the enchanting yourself.”

“Charged?” I asked.

“Well, they haven’t activated since the last charge…” Neil hesitated.

“Okay, we’ll think about it,” Yev’eni said. “What about sanitary facilities?”

“The sink and toilet are further on,” the landlord took a few steps, opened the next door and showed the toilet room. “There is hot and cold water,” he turned the valves, the faucet snorted.

“Is this the exit to the courtyard?” Yev'eni pointed to the last door at the end of the corridor.

“Yes. There is an entrance for carts so as not to disturb passers-by, but only for ground.”

The emboldened squirrel jumped off the closet and stuck its nose out into the hallway. It stared at us with its black eyes. I couldn't resist scratching its back with my hoof.

Yev'eni returned to the entrance to the warehouse. He looked thoughtfully around the empty room.

"We'll need to fence off a section and set up a small workshop," he noted. "Is that a problem?"

Neil thought about it.

“What kind of workshop, sir?”

“Turning works, metalworking. Working with reagents.”

The pony hesitated.

“You know, this is a residential building after all. We prohibit noisy work in the evenings.”

“Okay, we'll see,” Yev'eni said. “The noise is solvable. The lathe is still okay, and we can leave the grinder at Bronze's for now. It's a pity, of course - I wanted to move all production to one place...”

"Mister, I don't know what you're planning to manufacture, but you can't set up a factory in a residential area, either here or anywhere else," Neighel said. "If you want to set up production, rent a workshop, but I'm renting out the space for a store."

“Maybe one day we’ll do that, if business takes off,” Yev’eni replied thoughtfully.

He turned, heading towards the sales floor.

“Can we look at the documents for the premises, Mr. Brick?”

“Oh, sure, just a minute,” the pony disappeared through the door into the street.

We exchanged glances.

“What do you think?” I asked.

The man shook his head. He looked at the squirrel, who was now jumping around my hooves completely fearlessly.

"Squirrels who write a check?" He shook his head. "Stargaze, just when I'm starting to get used to your world, it finds a new way to blow my brains out."

“Blow your brains out?” I asked again, puzzled.

“A figurative expression, don't pay attention. To surprise strongly, I meant.”

At that moment, Neighel returned with a folder in his teeth.

“It’s all here,” he said, placing the folder on the windowsill. “The lease agreement, the health certificate, the permit from the mayor’s office.”

Yev'eni and I leaned over the papers, our heads bumping.

To my eyes, the papers looked okay. The human flipped through a few pages and apparently found nothing questionable either.

“Well, Neighel. How much do you want a month for this place?”

“A mere trifle. Twenty thousand.”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“Twenty thousand? For a place that's clearly impassable? Mister, it's a whole block to the nearest busy intersection. My price is thirteen.”

Neighel rolled his eyes.

“But here you won't suffer from city noise! Eighteen.”

“If I suffered from city noise, I would rent a country cottage,” Yev’eni snapped. “Fifteen.”

“This is a residential area! Your clients will be residents of all the surrounding houses! Seventeen and a half!”

"I'm targeting the general public, not the neighbors," the human retorted. "Fifteen five hundred."

“Sixteen - and I'll install wiring in your workshop for free!”

“Add the electricity bill and it's a shake of the hand. I mean, a shake of the hooves.”

Neighel nodded.

“When do you plan to deliver the goods?”

“Give us a few days. We need to consult with our partners and resolve the issue with the workshop,” I was about to blurt out that we actually don't have any goods yet, but Yev'eni beat me to it.

The lights had already gone out in most of the windows, but the window in Bronze's workshop was still glowing.

“We’ll have to take a taxi home,” I sighed, mentally counting the bits in my wallet.

“Well, at least the store is not far from home,” Yev’eni answered. “If we decide to rent there, we can save from travel.”

“A couple of districts - is that close?” I snorted. “Well, that will be a reason to go running!”

The door was opened by Remy, with purple spots on her face. The color of her mane.

“Stargaze, hello! Yev'eni, nice to see you.”

“How are things going?”

"Not much progress in the last three hours," replied Bronze, peering through his monocle at something tiny and shiny. "A couple of the writings seemed acceptable, but we'll have to wait. The previous ones seemed successful in the first few hours, too."

I sighed.

“How long have we been doing this?”

“For the third week,” said the human.

“Chin up!” said Bronze. “We're starting a completely new business. Certainly, there will be difficulties. So what? But the ponies will remember us as inventors who gave Equestria a new way to record their thoughts!”

“I didn't mean to be sad! I just ran around a bit. Oh well, at least tomorrow is a holiday. At least I won't have to run to the editorial office in the morning.”

“A holiday?” Yev'eni asked again. “What kind of holiday do you have?”

"Haven’t you heard anything about Nightmare Night?" Bronze stared at him.

“That’s quite a name for a holiday,” Yev’eni chuckled. “Wait a minute though… Does all this have anything to do with all those scary masks and lanterns in every shop window?”

Remy cleared her throat.

“Everypony and everyhumans! I understand everything, but I would like to return home not quite after midnight. Let's work on the planned series, and when the writings are ready, we'll discuss Nightmare Night, and preparations for the holiday, and anything else!”

She pulled on her hoofgloves and jingled her dishes. Carefully mixed a few spoonfuls of bright blue and green powders. She uncorked the bottle, and a sweet floral scent filled the workshop.

“It smells so nice!” I leaned forward with interest, examining the test tube.

"Get back!" Remy hissed at me. "Unless you want the fur on your face to fall out where that thing drips!"

She carefully poured part of the bottle into the test tube, closed the rest with a stopper, carefully wiping the neck with blotting paper. She added a few drops of oily liquid from another bottle. Stirred the resulting dark blue solution.

“Let’s try,” she said. “Alyatara, write.”

“Remy, don't go too fast!” I laughed. I climbed onto the stool and groped for a pencil and paper. “That's it, let's go.”

“Tip – lead brass, ball – hardened steel. Cavity width – 25 mils, ball diameter – 20 mils, channel thickness – approximately 5 mils.”

“Ink – the eighth experimental composition, pigment – crystal violet and Alemane blue in equal proportions, solvent – rose ether, lubricant – oleic acid,” Remi picked up. I scribbled on the paper, hoping that I wouldn’t misrepresent the name of any of the alchemicals.

Unfortunately, this time too, we were in for a failure. The refill left a thin but uneven line on the paper. When Yev'eni lifted the sheet from the table, it became clear that a purple spot had spread across the boards beneath it.

“Hm, hm, I swear by Celestia,” Remy studied the result thoughtfully. “And if... and if... yes, a little emulsifier...”

She repeated her mysterious manipulations, this time dropping some amber-colored compound into the test tube.

“Let’s try,” she ordered.

“We won’t change the refills?” Bronze asked curiously.

“Why? There are no problems with the ink supply this time, are there?”

The red earth pony nodded.

“It seems we have sorted out the design. However, this is not certain. The viscosity will change - and the gaps between the parts will have to be selected again.”

Yev'eni chuckled darkly.

“I was sure, when I got involved in this story, that it was a matter of a couple of evenings.”

Remy just snorted.

"And now we're all too screwed to back out," the human continued. "You've invested your labor and money. I've frame Stargaze for credit..."

I stood up from my seat resolutely.

“Now stop it!” I poked Yev'eni in the chest with my hoof. “You didn't frame me for anything! I decided to participate myself! And we're not doing this just for the money, by the way! If we succeed - when we succeed - this will be another reason for every pony in Equestria to understand that your kin are not monsters! This is a worthy goal! And it's worth working for a week or two or spending money for! Come on, everybeings, let's stop complaining!”

Yev'eni looked at me with admiring eyes.

Remy and Bronze tapped the floor mockingly.

The human shook his head.

"Discord buck me, as they say here," he drawled. "How lucky I am having ended up in Equestria to meet the most wonderful pony in your country."

"Wow," Remy said cheerfully. "How romantic."

We turned to her at the same time.

“What?”

“That's not what I...”

Bronze burst out laughing.

"Fillies and gentlecolts," he said, after laughing. "I'd like to remind you that the Princess of the Night has probably been wondering for a long time why we're not in her realm yet. So let's finish with the experiments first, and then anyone who wants to can discuss romance, money, and worthy goals. Alyatara, are you writing?"

With my fur scarlet with embarrassment, burning Remy with my gaze, I returned to the protocol. Bronze secured the refill, took the syringe, filled it from the test tube.

"By the way, about the chemicals," Yev'eni asked. "Can they be stored at the point of sale? I want to have a workshop and a store in one place, at least at first."

The earth pony shrugged.

“This stuff is used in the perfume and food industries as a disinfectant. I don't see any problems. The main thing is to store it where no one would be stupid enough to drink it or spill it on themselves, have running water for rinsing, and work with gloves.”

Something just came to my mind.

“Bronze, don't you need those old refills? The ones we rejected as too wide and left in the box?”

The earth pony shook his head.

“Not really. What are you going to do with them?”

“Of course, you won't be able to write with them. But if you take regular ink or mascara, this thing will make an excellent shader! I've even already figured out where I can use it...”

The human scratched his head.

“Hm. That's an option. You won't make much money on it, but selling it as a drawing tool...”

“Let’s deal with the current task first,” Remy interrupted us. “Bronze, what’s there?”

And again, failure. The ink seeped through the paper less, and on the board under the sheet there remained not a blue stripe, but a chain of spots. But it still seeped through.

“Well, well, well,” Remy returned to her seat. “Let’s try this…” She pulled out another bottle, with a handful of white powder.

Distracted by thoughts about how and where I could use the defective refills (a blurry strip of purple or blue would be great for conveying shadows lying on the snow!), I didn’t immediately notice that Remy was humming something under her breath, mixing reagents in test tubes.

And it took me a moment to realize that from somewhere far away, as if from nowhere and from all directions at once, quiet music was sounding.

Only when the pony's purring turned into a quiet song:

Courage is a couple of handfuls, just a pinch

And the determination that leads us, dissolution, processing

I will mix them in a retort, gaining inspiration

And I will create a drop of ink, sharing what I know,

With what I know!

Time after time I will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

Bronze lifted his head, looking at the vial that Remy handed him. The music grew, expanded. He filled the syringe, inserted the refill – singing along with it:

Generosity is like bronze under the incisors

And determination, like brass, rings in time under the hammers

I forged a chain out of them, fastening it with hard work.

And I will create the tip, not forgetting the craftsmanship,

Not forgetting!

Time after time I will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

Yev'eni's eyes widened in bewilderment. He wanted to ask something, to intervene, to cry out – but in his fingers he already had the refills taken from Bronze's hooves, and the music picked him up, and he sang:

Hopelessness - I'm alone in a foreign land

But I will have to find determination in my heart.

I went a little further than death, finding a new home here

And I will create a ballpen, gathering friends around me,

Gathering friends!

Time after time I will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

It was as if my legs had moved on their own, and now I was no longer walking, but gliding toward him. The sheet of paper rustled as it unfurled. I looked at the filigree, even lines, without a single blot or leak, and the music became everything, and my voice became in time with the music:

Friendship is a gift to us, a precious light of the heart

And the determination to become our friend is a gift that was sung from the heart

Let every pony know that human is not only a foe

A sign of true friendship will be drawn with a ballpen!

A sign of friendship!

And the four voices merged into one:

Time after time we will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

The music stopped. I sat down on the stool, feeling my legs buckle. Silently, I handed the sheet to the others.

Yev'eni shook his head. Nervously smoothed his hair. Opened his mouth, as if intending to ask something...

I rose to my feet, grabbing the workbench for support. I lowered my hoof onto his lips.

“Shhh. We're not discussing this.”

Bronze nodded silently.

Yev'eni again seemed to want to ask "Why?"

“Because we never discuss it. That's all.”

Remy cleared her throat.

“To be sure, of course, you need to wait for the check time.”

I just smiled.

“Sure. We'll wait. But you know what?” I looked at Yev'eni, Bronze and Remy. “I think we did it.”

Author's Note

This is tryings of Suno to sing that:

https://suno.com/song/e8bf9261-a3e3-4026-bac0-efeb2926e7f5