... and having you be referenced as a reliable source of information has lead to her wishing to make your acquaintance.

It was a line that Patches read over and over again as she sat on the train, listening to the chugging of the steam engine, the clacking of he wheels on the tracks, and the dull mumble of other ponies in the same car conversing with each other. The Princess wanted to make her acquaintance. It was a thought that she had a hard time wrapping her head around, but why wouldn't she? Patches was a less than unknown pony in Ponyville, married to a blacksmith and mother of two great musicians, and one of the last living Samareai in Equestria. If there were ponies that did know her, it was that she was the one with the weird hat that never stepped outside of her shop during the day, and was rarely out at night since her coltfriend turned husband moved in with her.

...cordially invite you to Canterlot Castle for a meeting with her majesty.

Patches lowered the note back to her lap, the piece of fine parchment with the swooping signature of the royalty that had invited her, her low emerald gaze going over the detail in the signature once more from the darkness that was cast by the shader she wore on her head. Ever so slightly, she adjusted herself in her seat, the katana that she carried with her was unhooked from the belt that it hung off of so that she could sit comfortably in the seat. The sword in question leaned against her shoulder, with her foreleg wrapped around it like it was an old friend to keep it from falling away from her. The weapon turned some heads in the station, as she still received a few stray glances from the quiet ponies every so often, as if they feared that she was going to snap at some point during the ride and cut it short, like some cold hearted killer.

Letting a slow exhale out, she closed her eyes and lowered her head.

There was no cold hearted killer anymore. That time had long passed. She was riding to Canterlot for a different purpose this time, she did not have reason to fear anything. She could still remember the feeling of helplessness though, sitting on the train in this exact same circumstance, reading a different letter over and over again, knowing that she could have very well been riding to her death. It was not meant to be, but it would be too much to ask if she didn't leave that fight without the recollections. Those blank, angry-- no, whatever that was was beyond anger, beyond definition, and it had threatened to consume her once. The shade of her past that needed to be expelled from the world that it should have never come to, her and whomever she had corrupted.

Breathe in, breathe out. Control your breathing, and you can control yourself.

With the quiet breathing that came in and out of her nostrils, she held the sheathed blade a little closer to herself. That time had long passed. There was no more danger in Canterlot for her, nor was there danger there for her daughter, who sat in the seat beside her, staying just as quiet as she did. As she always did, just like her mother. The quiet soul that made glorious, heart warming music that lifted the spirits of many. If there was one thing that Patches could make light of in this train ride, it was that she was travelling to Canterlot not to confront the dark, but to meet with the light with the bright spark that was her daughter, one of the two things that she was the most proud of in this world.

=====

The train arrived at the station, the engine gasping out one last burst of steam before bellowing out its deep whistle. The hostesses of the train went to every seat, waking up those that fell asleep and directing everypony off in an orderly manner. Waiting for their turn to leave the train, Patches watched as Honey Dew got up and started walking down the aisle before she too picked up her katana in the ghostly white glow of her magic, entering the aisle and adding the saddlebag that contained the lone, heavy book that she carried with her for this trip. Slinging it carefully over her back, she followed her daughter out the train door and onto the platform that bustled with pones both leaving and ponies who were anxiously waiting to get on the train.

Taking a few minutes to get themselves sorted, the two of them walked together away from the train station, going deeper into the city of Canterlot, towards the skyward spires that were the castle. As they walked, Patches took the time to glance around at their surroundings. It was such a well kept, well developed place, and it was so beautiful in the light of day, and much less threatening than it felt in the dark of midnight. The closer to the castle they traveled, the more Patches noticed the looks she was getting as well. The well dressed, high class ponies that made up the aristocracy, dressed in the latest fashions to try to make themselves seem important. These were the kind of ponies that Patches tried to appeal to in terms of fashion, as it was her job to make and fix clothing. Of course, nothing that she had made would be spotted on these ponies in her lifetime. As good as she was assured her handiwork was, the only one who wore them to special events was her daughter. The name brand behind the clothing was what mattered most to these ponies.

It was this reason that the two of them stood out, too. Neither of them were dressed in anything fancy. Hon had her hair done in her usual style, and Patches wore the shader to keep the bright sun out of her eyes. They were both out of place in this city, and made even more so the closer they were to the castle grounds. It mattered not as they kept going, for eventually, the street eventually led to an open portcullis - the inner sanctum of the city, where the keep resided. At the gate, there was a group of four guards: three standing at attention, and one processing the few ponies that wanted to enter the castle grounds. Glancing at Honey Dew with an elated sigh and a brief smile, the two of them approached the guard that was letting the ponies in.

It wasn't hard to notice that the guards were already sizing her up, more so because the two of them were carrying weapons, which was odd for civilians to do. Patches couldn't blame them, it was their job to shield the royalty, and they certainly didn't need to be discreet about their examinations of them. Looking up from her shader just enough so that her emerald eyes could be seen from under the rim and still remain shaded, Patches presented the letter of invitation to the guard and said with a low bow and a quiet, polite tone, "I am Master Samareai Patches Zephyrr, and this is my daughter, Samareai Honey Dew. We come at the invitation of Princess Celestia, and are to meet her assistant, Miss Pen Sketch, before we see her. We humbly ask permission to be let into the castle to meet with them."

Patches will participate in these fights, if they aren't PC vs. PC.

Patches shook her head at the offer of a pepper. What a strange thing to offer to somepony you had just met, even if the food was said namesake. Perhaps this pony just wanted to promote what he was selling here at this festival of something that Patches still had yet to deduce, just like most of the other stall running ponies here. Most of the stalls here were from pretty well known places, but there were some that she definitely didn't recognize, which she guessed to be the 'little guys' trying to make their way in this economy. "No thank you, I'm not all for eating peppers as they are. I can only really eat them when I cook them with something, and even then, my tolerance for them is pretty low." Of course this wasn't entirely true, cooking with 'hot' foods was something she enjoyed doing every once in a while, and eating a jalapeno without a second thought was regular for her. She just balked at the idea of a trinidad or a habanero though; there was such thing as too much of something good.

She looked down at the cat as it approached her, and she simply watched it as it looked back at her. She wasn't very good with most animals that weren't birds, but she was pretty sure that this cat wanted attention of some sort. Hesitantly raising a hoof, unsure if the cat would like what she was about to do, Patches would try petting its head. That's what it wanted, yes? She could never tell with some animals. "Finding someplace to sit sounds nice," she began, "though I'm not sure how long I will be staying. I was just going for my evening walk when I came upon this gathering." She looked back around to the one pony she recognized from before, who was accompanied by a somewhat glowing noctral and an orange unicorn, and gestured towards them, "Perhaps we should stick with them?"

"I'm going out for my walk," came a voice from inside the shophouse, "I'll be back after a while, sweetie." Closing the door behind her, the gray mare walked out the back door, the front door being the one usually reserved for the shop entrance. Slash was still awake at this hour for a while longer, so she had no need to lock the door just yet, and he would most likely remember to do so if he ever went to bed early. Making sure she had the house key just in case, she sighed and turned around, taking a few seconds to look around in the dark before taking a step forward onto the back yard beyond the forge, circling around past the planters filled with stargazer lillies before coming back around the front of the house. Her steps were soundless, even as they stepped onto the more used parts of the road that were nothing but packed dirt, and her movement was fluid, her grey coat and long black mane swimming through the shadows before emerging into the light of the moon, the only natural night that she could come to know. Looking up at the sky, particularly at the luminescent, splotchy circle that hung there, casting its light upon her, Patches felt a familiar hint of freedom that always came from nights like this. She could see without the help of her shader.

"The stars, the moon..." how did that song that Rose sang go? They have all been blown out, you left me in the dark. Something like that. That little tune: so proud when her daughter sang it, and so memorable when it was heard that she couldn't help but hum it to herself, with the occasional lyric being muttered to herself. "No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight..." Patches started walking down the road, a familiar weight across her waist as she could feel her blade once more there, reassuring her that her transgression into the dark outdoors would not be such a risk to her. Her shader still sat on her back, a small string keeping it secured around her neck in case it should ever decide to fall off in a brisk breeze, less for protection and more as a reminder of just how free she was from it's protective embrace.

Her jet black mane hung over her shoulders, long and glossy, reflecting hints of the moonlight so subtley, and framing the face that had the emerald colored eyes, the eyes that still sparked with life behind their miserly existence in a world that was governed by the presence of a sun, and when this governing and harsh presence slunk back behind the horizon, it was her time to be free. Her eyes were wide open, uncovered, awake, looking into the dark without even a hint of fear as to what might be behind the shadows. She followed the road around the outskirts of Ponyville, perhaps hoping to find a hill to sit upon for a while and stargaze. It was one of those once in a while nights where the clouds were not scheduled to be in the sky, leaving a perfect opportunity to pick out all of the familiar constellations that her master had shown her. The fish, the bull, the scales, the crab...

There was a bit of commotion coming from a particular area that she was passing by though, and for a while, she stood looking at it, trying to figure out from the outside just what was possibly going on. There were stalls, and all sorts of food and other festivities being conducted; it was the kind of thing that reminded Patches of the Summer Sun Celebrations, but it was dark outside. There were so many ponies though... she sighed and contemplated continuing to go on her way, her instinct to avoid large crowds threatening to get the better of her, but she stopped herself in her track, grimacing a bit as she remembered the concern Slash had expressed for her well being that one day, how he was concerned that she was wasting away inside the house being unsocial. It was as though it were an intervention for excessive reclusivity, and the little excursions outside into the real world on a regular basis with him were like the rehabilitation, slowly getting her used to the idea of staying in a large crowd.

She grit her teeth, forcing herself to turn her head and look back towards the festivities, and all of the ponies conversing about... things. This was her test, wasn't it? To walk into the middle of a festival that she had not even heard of up to this point, and... socialize. The thought of it once more brought up the recurring memories of ponies ridiculing and avoiding her some twenty years ago before she met her husband, but she pushed those thoughts to the side. If she was going to put herself through this for anybody, it would be for Slash. She had to make the time he had spent trying to bring her back out into the world mean something, and she never knew, maybe she might actually enjoy it, and go back home to convince Slash to come back with her. Maybe Rose and Crimson were already here? They did go flying off somewhere.

Before she could even complete her thought about how this was going to be for her husband, she was already walking towards the festivities, a bit of determination and wariness accompanying her as her eyes shifted back and forth, observing all those who had already arrived. There were no familiar faces so far as she could tell, but for now, she was exploring, taking in the sights and looking at all the stalls as she passed by. She had no bits on her; she never did when she came out on walks like this, but from the looks of things, there wasn't all that much that would be costing money. There was at least  a familiar face now that she had come to look around: that strange green one who had the glasses whom she had helped get to a nonexistent house at one point. Only he was without glasses. "So darkness I became." She muttered once more before looking back to the sky at all of the twinkling dots hanging suspended there, wondering how many of the ponies present were doing the same.

Even though Slash easily came up with something to do in the time that Patches would be supposedly taking off for herself, the thought of just talking to other ponies for no reason was so foreign to her. How was she to go about it? Surely there were ponies out there who would rather not be disturbed by another pony just walking up to them and having a full-fledged conversation with them about... about what? What would they even talk about? The weather? She most certainly didn't want to go about parading what she was to the entirety of the townsfolk, given how they had treated her twenty-some years ago when she did frequently mention to those that she had had longer talks with that she was a Samareai. No, those years were done, she had learned that harsh lesson from an even harsher isolation. She looked at the ground, unsure of herself as her own ears flattened to the side of her head, "I suppose if you've done this before, it wouldn't hurt to have you come along. As long as you are okay with leaving Crimson at the house by himself when Rose is home, then I am too." She paused for a while before adding, "There are other ways I can have time for myself too though, right? I can just as easily relax in a bath or read a book or... I don't know, paint?" She winced a little as she tried to think of other things, before another defeated sigh left her and she said, "When do you think we should go and just... 'talk' to somepony?"

Patches nodded along as Slash described how things were going at the forge. To hear that everything was heading along on time was good news; if there was a reputation that had to be upheld for the shop, it was the fact that orders were finished and ready for pickup on time, preferably before the customer came back for them. So far, they had yet to miss an order, though there were some instances where things were cut close because of family activities. The fact that Crimson is getting good enough to manage the forge by himself was also good news. If Slash trusted his ability to the point where he can leave the forge without worry that Crimson would burn the house down, then that means Slash could spend a little more time with her and the family that was here, since all of the orders would be done earlier. Though nowadays, with Honey Dew travelling and performing, and Rose spending most of her time dating Crimson and hanging out with friends, a lot of their afternoons were spent with each other, and it reminded Patches very much of the time back when Slash had just moved in with Patches, and they didn't have to worry about a family yet, only they are just a little older.

Speaking of older, the soreness in Slash's bones was most likely something that was caused by it, and Patches had to admit, despite her vigor and healthy lifestyle, she could feel herself slowing down as well. This must have been the time when Master Edge started focusing more on his philosophies and teaching, since he couldn't move as well as he used to, though he still moved plenty well enough to make Patches' training near unbearable. "Awww, achy bones, Slashy?" she cooed as she rubbed his shoulder, reaching around his back as he hugged her tightly, "I think the only way we could help with that is to go to the pharmacist's and pick up some cold-hot gel and rub that where it's most sore if we don't have any in the medicine cabinet, or maybe you are just feeling stiff...?"

She trailed off as she suggested the only two things that came to mind, shrugging as she answered his questions, "No fancy orders today, unfortunately. Mostly quick little fixes: sewing a button back on a jacket, fixing zippers, hemming socks... and even a shy little filly came by with her teddy bear and asked me so politely if I could fix it for her." A happy little smile came to her as she remembered the little filly, "Of course, I couldn't help but fix her bear for her for free. Other than that..." she tapped the sudoku book, "I think this book might very well be my bane. I could spend an hour on a single puzzle double and triple checking my logic, yet still make a silly mistake that I will only find when it is too late. It passes the time though, and when I finally get it, it's worth it." Resting her head against his shoulder, she sighed and added, "Though really, all this passing of the time just makes me look forward to closing for the day, so we can do less monotonous things with each other, hmm? I don't know about you, but it feels like a socks day for me."

Patches stared out one of the lone windows by the kitchen table, listening to the dead silence as she sat there, bored out of her mind. One of her hind legs was in a splint after she broke it during one of her master's excercises, and now she was stuck until it healed. She could not continue her training until it healed, and she couldn't even keep herself occupied with chores around the house. She had nothing to do, and she had already read all of the books that her master kept in the shack.

So she sat there, just waiting for her leg to heal. She had been like this for about a week now, and her master said it should take about two or three months to heal on its own, and then it would take a few more weeks to get used to it again. It was its own kind of torture, to be confined not by a room but by your body's physical limitations; and it was something that she knew all too well.

It was just about time that her master would finish working in the forge, and she could hear him starting to tidy it up. Rubbing a hoof across her face, she looked at the door just as her master walked in. She looked at him with a apathetic yet somewhat downcast look on her face as she said in as even a tone she could muster, trying to hide her boredom, "Hello Master."

He looked at her and cocked his head curiously. There wasn't much that she could ever hide from him, he just seemed to know what she was thinking most of the time, so she could never really surprise him. After a few seconds of looking at his crippled and bored student, he sighed and a more concerned look crossed his face as he asked, "My student, how are you faring? Be honest with me."

She looked at him again and took a deep breath. She always tried to hide her discomfort from him as complaining was a sign of weakness and disrespect, but he was asking what was bothering her, so she figured it was okay to answer, "Master, my apologies, but since I broke my leg, I have been confined to either this chair or my bed. You have forbid me from doing any training or doing any of the chores around the house so that my leg can heal properly, but I feel helpless. Is there nothing I can do while I wait for my body to heal?"

Her master hummed in thought as he stroked his chin, looking from the floor to the ceiling in thought before finally looking at her and narrowed his eyes, as though deliberating whether what he was thinking was good enough. Finally he spoke up again and said, "I will be back, my student."

She watched as he disappeared into his study, the one that was forbidden to her for a few minutes. Her eyes were glued on the wood of the door as she strained to listen to what he was doing in there, but she couldn't hear his silent hoofsteps. When he finally stepped back out from it, he was holding something that she had never seen before, and she looked at it curiously as he walked over to the table, setting it down on it for her.

Patches looked from the object to her master and asked, "What is this, Master?" He smiled and answered in kind, "It is a violin, Patches, an instrument that is used to create music. I'm sure you have noticed how quiet it gets in here, so why don't you take this time to learn how to play it?" He must have noticed how unsure she looked, because he stood up and levitated it towards her chin and said, "I will show you how to use it. Hold it here like this..."

He then showed her the basics of playing the violin, showing her a few simple notes and how to glide the bow across the string properly before he left her alone with it, going back outside to finish cleaning up the forge. For the following weeks, Patches strung together and experimented with all of the notes on her free time, creating a few songs that gave the silence of the shack something pleasant to listen to in its stead.

When the three months were up, and her leg was fully healed and out of the splint, she sadly went and fetched her violin, offering it back to her master since she no longer needed it. When she did this, he laughed and said with humour in his voice, "Patches, you can keep it! I have not the time to play the instrument, let alone as well as you. You have shown me that you have the dedication and patience to learn it, and I do not wish to take the ability to take something so beautiful as music away from you." His smile widened as he watched the smile on his student's face grow wider. He patted her on the shoulder and said, "Now go put that in a safe place and come along outside, we must see if your leg still remember your forms after all its time spent healing."