Cutter

Looking back over my shoulder, I found the fairly well-defined shape of the old hot dog vendor staring blankly ahead, despite the scene occurring just in front of his stand. His being so well-defined unlike most of the dream people I saw probably had a lot to do with how often I'd talked with him.

The heaving hacking noise Luna made drew my attention back to her, once again in her human form and leaning down on her knees to vomit while I held her hair back.

"You good?" I asked. She panted a few times before grunting and smacking her lips.

"Mm," she cleared her throat with a grimace. "Yes. Mm." She huffed a few times before thrusting her hand at the vendor who made no reaction as he shuddered and then slowly turned into dust, hot dog stand and all.

"I thought food in here was, like, fake dream food?" I asked as she slowly stood up straight and held her stomach.

"Yes, but it was constructed from your memories," she explained, conjuring a cloth to wipe her mouth and the tears from her eyes. "Taste, smell, and sound all leave substantial impressions upon memory, so-" She gagged and squinted.

"The recreations are very authentic, I believe," she murmured before fixing me with a critical leer. "But I must ask: why did you partake of such rancid street fare enough to permit it to leave an impression upon your mind?" I shrugged with an uneasy smile.

"It was quick and easy on my way to and from work," I said, at which she rolled her eyes. "I never thought it was that bad." She made a mocking noise with a bob of her head, and I looked up and down the dreamed-up version of the street I'd always taken to get to work.

"You've spent a lot of time exploring these dreams with me lately," I said before offering her an uneasy frown. "I hope I'm not taking up too much of your time." She snorted and waved her hand.

"Oh, pish! Worry not!" She retorted, gently patting my shoulder and waving to the dream city around us. "What seems like hours or even years in the dreamscape often manifests as scant seconds in the waking world." She nodded with a warm smile.

"And besides, I enjoy your company," she explained before sighing and casting her gaze off to the side. "Typically, when I dispel a nightmare, the ponies I aid seem almost disappointed when I linger instead of letting their pleasant dreams carry on." Her smile wavered and then vanished.

"Which isn't too far removed from my experiences with them in the waking world, either," she murmured. I blinked and hummed in thought.

"Well, still, I'm not sure what I did to deserve all of this," I said, causing her to blink.

"Deserve?" She said, fixing me with a severe look that matched her tone. When I looked at her in surprise she considered herself for a moment before speaking again. "Upon discovering the Elements of Harmony, my sister and I sword we would defeat Discord before he could uproot any more lives." She took my hand in her own, looking me in the eyes with a frown.

"Clearly, we failed, even at the last second," she added in a low, sad tone. She took both my hands now and tilted her head towards mine. "You ask what you've done to deserve this? Well, you haven't done anything, and you don't deserve this. Any of this. Nothing that has happened." She shook her head and offered me a sad smile.

"And offering you these glimpses of your home is the least I can do to make up for that," she said, drawing a look of surprise from me. The dreamed-up ambiance of the city was the only noise for a few moments before I squeezed her hands with a nod.

"Thank you."

I took a deep, cleansing breath as the memory rolled on, finding no comfort in it, unfortunately. It wasn't long after that when she-

She left.

And when that realization boiled up again, I found myself wincing as it mixed with the general anxiety I felt about this whole situation. The anxiety I hadn't been able to shake ever since the commodore had pressed us for details about our voyage and Arnoso's death.

I tried to tell him. I tried to hold it together.

Burigold had had one of his attendants escort me to a cozy little inn near the square, and that was where I remained until morning. Thanks to my music box, I'd finally managed to get some sleep despite the fact the image of Arnoso choking to death kept flashing across my mind, and I now stood under the fog-covered morning sun, leaning on the metal railing surrounding a dusty little patio off the side of the inn.

The rest of Naysow was shockingly quiet and pacified compared to the riot it had been the night before. There were a few teams of cleaners sweeping or moping up around the square and taking care to avoid stepping on any of the various revelers who'd fallen asleep in the middle of the street. Even the fake judge we'd passed was now sleeping in a hammock tied between the gallows.

Suddenly, the rail I was leaning on rattled, and I turned to find Ben Burigold leaning back on it.

"Morning Mr. Cutter!" He chirped as he scooted a low table beside himself with his leg and rested his hookah pipe upon it.

"Oh, hello, ah, Commodore," I replied with a nod before wincing. "Sorry for- Walking out like that."

"Nah! Like I said last night, don't worry about it!" He mused as he fumbled with his smoking device to get it hot. He offered me a knowing smile. "Despite my appreciation for what you did, I get it: It's difficult speaking about your first." He reached over and patted my arm.

"Especially given the circumstances surrounding yours," he added before continuing to work with his pipe. "Tell you what you missed though! You missed me being nailed with the stark realization we may need to renegotiate our arrangement!" He barked a laugh and fixed me with a desperate smile.

"I don't think I can afford four weeks of that Stitches mare eating as much as she does, let alone four months!" He said before laughing harder. I managed a laugh myself after a moment and he jostled my arm. A brief silence followed, during which time he managed to get his pipe working and he bit it before snapping his claws. "On the topic of our arrangement, Mr. Cutter, what will you do in four months?" I blinked at his sudden question as he hummed with subdued glee and began smoking.

"Oh," I murmured, giving it some thought and looking out over the square. "Well, I need to find a way to write the princess."

"Not possible, I'm afraid. Not with war about to explode," he said to my surprise. Noticing my expression he huffed a cloud of smoke. "Were you aware of the troubles up in Trottingham on the Griffish Isles?" When I nodded he returned the gesture.

"Well, some maniacal youth snuck up there and stole a bag of turnips from some pony farmer and another sack of turnips from a griffin farmer," he explained, gesturing with his paw as he spoke. "Then, once word had spread and either faction began to suspect the other, he lured the two farmers to a remote spot and killed them both, leaving only one sack of turnips and their bodies in such a way to make it seem like they killed each other." He turned to me with his pipe hanging out the side of his smiling mouth.

"As you can probably imagine, this has most certainly agitated relations between Griffinstone and Equestria, by proxy," he mused, but his words made me furrow my brow.

"If they know it was- Whoever that guy was that did it-"

"They don't, son. Everyone on the Griffish Isles believes the two farmers killed each other. Not a soul knows about the youth I mentioned," he retorted.

"So how do you-" I paused when I noticed the look in his eyes—The sort of unamused leer a teacher might fix their student with when they fail to catch on to something basic. He took a slow drag off his pipe and hissed the smoke out between his smiling teeth. As I looked at him in surprise, a few seconds passed in silence before he wagged his eyebrows.

"Lucid Laurels," he said in a low tone with a chortle, tapping the body of his pipe with a claw. "Help some folk dream, but they let me see the future." He closed one eye and leaned in, jabbing his claw into my chest.

"Savvy?" He demanded, to which I nodded slowly. He smiled and nodded back. "At any rate, while war's powerful good business for me, it's a powerful bad headache for Her Majesty and His Excellency. So, I doubt she'd be able to help you too much even if you managed to contact her." He coughed and wagged his claw at me.

"So! Presuming four months pass and the war's still on, as is likely," he rolled his paw at me expectantly. I frowned hard at his words, having never really considered I might be stuck out here. Granted, I hadn't had time to really process most of what had happened, but I'd hoped I could at least clear things up about the Quicksilver. Sighing, I shrugged.

"Guess I'll find a job before then," I said, drawing a thoughtful hum from him. I looked over the square and gestured to the buildings all around. "I know you guys have the whole privateering thing, but there're shops and things all around."

"Hey! Fair thought," he chirped with a hearty nod before offering me a bright smile. "And who knows? You might be able to start your own business by providing a service we don't already have!" I furrowed my brow as he pursed his lips and looked me up and down.

"Like uh-" He paused, and looked at the square and back at me. He repeated this a few times, sometimes lingering on me, sometimes lingering on the town. Finally, he tilted his head and focused on my hands. "Hey, hold your paws up." I gave him a bewildered look but he gestured with his paws, so I held them up.

"Go like this," he said, wiggling his claws. When I did as asked, he narrowed his eyes and looked all around for a moment before shouting. "Oy! Apricot!" Looking in the direction he shouted I spied a beige mare with a messy red mane in a red silk robe out on the square.

"What?" She shouted back.

"Don't 'what' me! C'mere!" Ben yelled, drawing an annoyed sigh from 'Apricot.' Shortly after, she arrived on the patio right before us. Ben gestured to me and then to her. "This is Cutter. Cutter, Apricot."

"Hello," I offered, looking between Ben and her.

"Mm," she replied with no attempt to hide her annoyance before scowling at Ben.

"Now, Apricot, sit still," he ordered before snapping his claws at me. "Cutter, massage her scalp."

"Huh?" I huffed.

"Excuse you?" She spat, her scowl hardening.

"Sst!" Ben spat, jabbing his claws at her.

"Nyeh!" She spat back, recoiling and waving a hoof at him. Despite her reaction, she sighed and stood still, fixing me with an annoyed leer. I looked between Ben and her and he gestured at her.

"Go on," he urged. When I hesitated he made a scratching motion with his claws and his expectant look sharpened. Slowly, my eyes locked with his, I brought my hand to her head, drawing a grunt from her. Then, when he repeated the scratching gesture, I did likewise. Apricot flinched for a moment, before closing her eyes with a happy hum and leaning into my hand with a big, dopey smile. Ben snorted a laugh as I adopted a surprised expression. "Hah, that's what I thought!" I looked up at him, still idly scratching the happy little pony. He took up my free hand and tapped my fingers.

"Flexible like a minotaurs, but soft too!" He appraised, before snapping his claw at me and taking a drag off his pipe. "You could make a killing as a masseuse, you know that?" I blinked and looked down at the utterly hypnotized pony and Ben nodded.

"I- Get lost," he spat, doing a double take at Apricot and slapping my hand off her. She swayed for a moment as her smile slowly melted away.

"Wahuh?" She murmured, blinking and looking at him in shock before looking me up and down. Her ears shot back as she considered my hands.

"Sst!" Ben hissed, jabbing his claw back the way she'd come.

"Nyeh!" She hissed back before galloping away. Ben leaned back on the rail and snorted.

"Anyhow, I think that'd be a fine way for you to handle yourself come four months, hey?" He took another drag from his pipe and fixed me with a raised eyebrow.

"Huh," I murmured, looking at my hands. After a pause, he grunted.

"Or you could do like I did when I was a younger hound," he said, drawing my attention to him. "You could seize your future by the bollocks and steer it how you want."

"What?" I huffed. A change overtook him then, and he set his pipe down, clapped his paws, and held them out to me with an eager grin.

"It's simple. You fly my colors, you sail out with your crew on that ship you already have, you pick some rich-looking other vessel, and you compel them to surrender their riches to you," he gestured out to the harbor and then 'walked' his paws back to himself before pointing at the ground. "Then you bring them back here, kick thirty percent of it up to the Flying Gang's leadership, and divide the rest amongst yourselves. A sharp way to get a fortune even with the Flying Gang's cut." He tipped his head my way before snapping his claws.

"Ah, and the thirty percent is a service fee," he explained, jabbing his claw at me. "When I say you use my colors, that means you have my protection. No other pirates will be stupid enough to harass you, and any military vessels aligned with our benefactors will know not to pursue you. What do you think?" He gave me a toothy, expectant smile, but I could only balk at his words.

"You want me to be a pirate?" I finally asked with an utterly incredulous tone.

"Privateer, yes," he chirped. I leaned back on the rail away from him and found my eyes darting around in bewilderment.

"I don't- I can't-" I stammered before shaking my head and offering him an apologetic look. "I'm- I'm not a killer, Mr. Burigold. I couldn't-" He waved his paw.

"No. You are. You killed Arnoso. That makes you a killer," he said sharply, pointing his claw at me. "What you're not is a murderer." I was too shocked by his declaration to reply, so he continued.

"When you and he came to blows, it was you or him, and you came out the better," he rolled his claw and jabbed it at himself. "When I pursue a prize, and some tawdry and empty-headed commander chooses to open fire upon me, it's us or them." I blinked as he took up his pipe, still focused on me with a severe look.

"We're both killers, Mr. Cutter, not murderers. The difference may seem negligible to you now, but when the night closes in and the noise of waves no longer quashes the guilt rattling around your head, just remember," he poked me gently in the chest. "T'was you or him." I huffed at his words as he smoked and waved his paw.

"That aside, who says you gotta do any killing?" He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Did Arnoso even do any killing when he boarded you?"

"He tried to," he argued with a weak tone.

"Because he was an ass, yes. But think about it!" He grunted, offering me a confident smirk. "All you have to do is present yourself in a way that compels your mark to surrender!" He jolted and stood up straight, leveling one paw at me.

"And that's another thing! If you don't want to kill, then don't go picking fights!" He narrowed his eyes with a sinister smirk. "Pick easy targets, with soft bellies and softer hearts, who whimper and waver at the mere sight of a cutlass being brandished in their presence!" My eyes drifted for a moment before I shook my head.

"I don't even know how-" I stopped with a grunt when he began laughing to the point of coughing and pounding his chest. He barked a few more times before wagging his claw at me.

"It is vastly amusing and terrifically fascinating that, for all your protests to my suggestion," he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head back. "Not once have you objected on morals, merely experience." I blanched at his accusation as he chortled quietly and then spoke in a high-pitched, mocking tone.

"I'm not this! I'm not that! I wouldn't know how to do that!" He cried, bobbing his head back and forth before leering at me again. "Not a hint of suggestion that you protest for the fact it's wrong, hey?" I looked away with a partial blush as he stared at me. After a brief silence, he hummed and punched my shoulder.

"I'm not a hound given to contempt. I bear few grudges and those were hard won by them that be their subjects," he said, drawing my attention back just in time to see him fix me with a severe expression. "But there's one thing I canna' abide nor stand." He turned to face me fully and jabbed a claw.

"Potential, wasted, either for ignorance or sloth," he declared, raising his claw for emphasis. "Fear can be overcome, Mr. Cutter. Ineptitude righted." He shook his head and his tone became more serious.

"But a staunch refusal is a powerful misfortune," he took a drag and waved back at his villa. "That Gab fellow you sail with said you took to the helm like an ace. You dared to leave the safety of the lower decks alone. And you got the better of Arnoso, in whatever manner was available to you." He looked me up and down with a nod, letting his words and their meaning hang in the air.

"Y'got four months, Mr. Cutter, to make your decision," he finally added, gently patting my shoulder and pointing at my face. "Don't feel compelled to do anything rash just yet." He pushed off the rail and stepped away.

"Try to keep in mind though, and perhaps this will be what really cracks your shell," he turned back and offered me a thoughtful look. "My suggestion about massaging? Surely, that'll pay your way through, but you've nigh on twenty other poor lost souls in your company." He scowled and shook a claw in the direction Apricot had run.

"Don't care how many goo-goo eyes Apricot was shooting you, you ain't covering their accounts that way, savvy?" He pursed his lips and tilted his head away from me. "You gonna let them wander and struggle?" I recoiled at his accusation, but before I could argue, he hummed and took another drag, looking up thoughtfully.

"Then again, I suppose they ain't your charges nor responsibility," he mused before shrugging at me. "Can't say I'd blame you for leaving them to figure it out on their own." He turned his head and narrowed his eyes.

"But can you say you wouldn't blame yourself?" He asked, causing my jaw to hang slightly. Once again, before I could argue he hummed and nodded. "As I said, take some time to really consider my proposal." He scooped up his pipe and turned to leave before jolting and whirling around at me.

"Ah! And brace yourself!" He added, adopting a sinister grin and wiggling the claws of one paw at me as he began skipping away. "I'm gonna have Apricot tell all her lady friends about what those things can do!" He let out a thoroughly malicious guffaw before turning and bounding away.

The moon was shining through the window of my room at the inn. I'd seen Gab and Zamaradi trotting through town but hadn't bothered to call out to them. I was too busy dwelling upon Ben's words.

Something about what he'd said was eating at me, and I couldn't pin down exactly what it was. But as I sat there, chair pulled to the window, idly winding and listening to my music box in my lap, my mind drifted around carefully engaging in a process of elimination until I figured out what it was.

Sure, pirates were cool. But from a distance, and not when I was at risk of getting gutted by one.

I couldn't say I didn't enjoy actively sailing, even though it had been hard work.

He had a point that the rest of the crew would have to figure something out, but they were all adults and they'd had the initiative to sign onto the Quicksilver. They'd probably be fine with or without me.

I narrowed my eyes as I played back the conversation in my head, carefully combing every line I could recall him saying.

"A sharp way to earn a fortune!"

"Did Arnoso do any killing?"

"When I say you use my colors, that means you have my protection."

I sat up.

"My colors. My protection."

I furrowed my brow.

"My protection."

My head slowly rolled back.

"Offering you these glimpses of your home is the least I can do to make up for that."

I took and held a shallow breath before snapping my music box shot. Finally exhaling after a few seconds, I drummed my fingers on my music box for standing and exiting my room.

A short walk had found me once again approaching the commodore's villa. Just like before, none of the armed creatures paid me any mind and I was allowed to walk right up to his yard. Once inside, he was nowhere to be seen, but there were still a few diamond dogs, ponies, and bat ponies hanging around. As I stood in the entryway looking around, Blood Orange, our guide from the night before suddenly drooped down from above.

"You here to talk with Ben?" She asked, fixing me an upside-down smile. When I nodded, she beamed. "Hold on a sec." She swooped back and flew into the house through an upper window. After a minute or two she reappeared in one of the doors and waved me in.

Leading me through the cozy and cool residence, she quickly delivered me to a small study in which Ben sat reading at a desk with his chair turned sideways to face an unoccupied chair. Blood waved me toward it and I slowly approached as she left us alone. Ben raised an eyebrow without looking up from his book.

"You've caught me at a most inopportune moment, I'm afraid," he mused, turning a page and glancing up at me. "I was doing my damnedest to look busy so you wouldn't think I was waiting up on you to come to tell me you're ready to turn privateer." I blinked at him before he smiled and set his book aside, gesturing to the seat before him. Sitting down, I folded my hands with a nervous huff as he looked me up and down.

"You said you've got protections?" I asked anxiously.

"Aye," he plainly replied, folding one leg over the other.

"How does that work?" I pressed, leaning forward on my knees.

"We are allowed to rob as we please, so long as it is generally to the benefit of the Griffinstone effort, as my current commission comes from King Grover," he explained gesturing with one paw. "That does not exclude the robbery of Griffinstone vessels if such actions are done in moderation."

"And you don't get arrested?" I asked, furrowing my brow and wringing my hands. He laughed.

"Better than that. I could press to have one of my lads released and pardoned if they were arrested!" He chortled before squinting and nodding. "Granted, that's more of a case-by-case basis, but-"

"How'd you get something like that?" I interrupted. He paused at me before slowly nodding.

"My current commission with Griffinstone came about during the bugbear invasion a few years back, and I simply held on to it past that debacle's conclusion," he explained before winking. "A little careful bribery has kept it quite fresh, I assure you."

"Sure, but how-" He waved his paw.

"Ah, I catch your meaning!" He said, jabbing a claw at the window over his desk. "I rounded up some ships and lads over in Southpile and used them to prove my competency and valor to Grover during the early stages of the invasion." I narrowed my eyes and took a shallow breath.

"Do you think Celestia would consider something similar? Like pardons or whatever for efforts during a war?" I pressed, sighing when he nodded.

"Sure. I had a commission from Their Majesties briefly, to help track the movements of some roving monsters along Equestria's coast, which was how I figured out the griffins were going to have a bugbear problem," he tilted his head back in thought with a smile. "Granted similar protections as-"

"So, do you think if I-" I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulder. "Helped with the war?" He continued looking up, his smile softening for just a moment.

"Potentially, but here I was sure I had you figured. What crime are you trying to get pardoned for?" He fixed me with a knowing smile for a moment before waving his paw. "Unless you just mean that mutiny business, in which case don't mind me."

"Not me," I hummed, clutching my hands tight. "Her name is Luna." He didn't respond for a minute and I looked up to see his expression had fallen to a concerned leer.

"Maybe. That one's hard to say, especially since I can't say I know the full story of what happened between the two," he explained, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head away. "For instance, I heard Celestia killed her little sister." I waved my hand with a sigh.

"No, she just-" I paused and grunted. "I don't really get it, but she's still alive." He hummed and bobbed his head.

"As I said, that'll be a maybe, then," he reiterated before leaning forward on his knees with an eager smile. "But you won't know until you try, right? And you're sure to pull a mighty fortune in the effort, too!" I considered him with trepidation for a moment before huffing and nodding.

"Right."

I'd spent the last leg of my story with my eyes fixed on the dungeon floor. Even still, I could feel the shocked expression that Celestia wore, so it wasn't much of a surprise when she finally spoke, she did so in an utterly astonished tone.

"You-" She stammered and gasped, and I could hear her wings bristled. "You believed I-"

"That you'd release her for me in honor of my efforts, much in the same way I'm now sitting before you hoping for a pardon, yes," I affirmed with a sigh. I looked up to offer her a weary smile and a shrug. "I was young and stupid and barely had an understanding of what even happened to her. If your failures during the earliest days of my sea-faring were a result of inexperience, then I'm sure you can forgive me for my own shortcomings." She recovered from her shock to fix me with an annoyed glare.

"Perhaps, but I believe I explained what occurred quite succinctly," she retorted, causing my own expression to fade into a glare. I leaned forward and pointed at her.

"You told me, when I stumbled into the throne room, dazed and confused like the rest of the castle residents, that your sister had been overtaken by jealousy and abandoned her duty," I hissed with more venom than I intended. "And for that, you banished her, dispelling her into the magical aether and sealing her in the moon." Her jaw dropped and her eyes darted around.

"What about that did you not understand?" She gasped, fixing me with another bewildered leer.

"Try any of it," I barked, throwing my hands up. "I wasn't even sure how to begin approaching with clarifying questions." She recoiled and looked off to the side with a grunt.

"I'd say could have simply asked me anything, but then again it was ten years ago, and, despite my efforts, we barely-" She paused and screwed up her face, but I waved a hand.

"No, no. It's fine, 'cause it's the truth," I spat, jabbing a finger at her. "We barely talked, and then only on important matters like how my studying was going." She winced slightly as I sat up and continued pointing.

"She took the time to actually pry," I declared before sinking back against the wall and throwing a hand up. "I think in the end you'd just grown so used to being the much-beloved icon and being surrounded by sycophants and yes-men, that you simply forgot that sometimes people lie." She narrowed her eyes while staring away from me and I huffed.

"Which is why you never pried when I replied with 'I'm just fine,'" I added in a mocking tone before glaring up at her. "And why you never gave much thought to her when she said likewise." She glared right back at me.

"Don't give me that look, you know it's true," I spat, folding my arms.

"Yes, but I don't care to have you remind me," she spat right back, taking a shallow breath. "I was aware of my failures as soon as she declared her feelings before our confrontation." A brief pause followed as she looked me up and down and my gaze again fell to the dungeon floor.

"And I would urge you to recall that afterward, I made every effort to give you the same care she did," she added in a softer, yet still annoyed tone. "For I realized I'd failed you as well." I shrugged with a hum.

"Sure, but you never took a moment to consider I wouldn't-" It was my turn to pause and look off to the side. She blinked and leaned her head through the bars.

"What? I never considered what?" She pressed. I clenched my eyes with a growl and looked up at her.

"That I wouldn't want anything to do with the person who took her from me," I replied.

A heavy quiet filled the cell as Celestia recoiled only slightly. We sat there, looking into each other's eyes and she blinked a few times as her breathing seemed to grow heavier. Eventually, she pulled back and faced away from me.

"We will continue this conversation later," she hastily replied before hurrying out of sight. When the heavy clang of the door signaled she'd left the dungeon, I sighed hard and banged my head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling again.