Chapter 1 - The Last Heist
“So... How does this work, exactly?”
“When the crystal in front of you is activated, it will capture the vibrations in the air created by your voice and transfer those vibrations through the wire connected here through the base and to a separate crystal in this box where the information will be stored until the matrices in the storage crystal decay in about ten thousand years or so, give or take a century or two.”
“Huh?”
A sigh.
“Just talk into that crystal and it'll record what you say.”
“Cool. Like this?”
“Exactly like that.”
“So is it on?”
Tap tap tap
“Careful with that! It’s a very delicate scientific instrument! Actually, it’s been on for some time now. That little green light there lets you know when it’s recording.”
“That’s pretty nifty.”
A pause
“Alright. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Where should I start?”
“How about at the beginning?”
“The beginning? Alright. Here goes nothing.”
*********
I guess I should start with who I am first. My name is Cerulean Rose, but my friends just call me Blue for short, seeing as Cerulean is kind of a mouthful. Growing up as an earth pony in a unicorn-oriented city like Canterlot wasn’t exactly easy, but I made due. One thing that I’ve come to learn through experience is that life has a way of coming up and hitting you from behind when you least expect it to. Even if you spend your whole life preparing for that inevitable blow, it can sweep you off your feet in an instant and carry you to Celestia-knows-where. The funny thing about it is that wherever you get swept away to sometimes ends up being right where you needed to go anyways.
***
The slow and peaceful sound of a cello reverberated against the dilapidated walls of the abandoned building that I had made my home. There are places that have become unused and abandoned even in Canterlot, and I was lucky to come across an old textile warehouse. The company that had built it folded a few years back, something about an embezzlement scandal, and fortunately for me nopony had touched it since. The music was coming from an old phonograph that I had fixed up after scavenging it from some dark alleyway a few weeks before. I like to listen to slower classical-type music, it helps me unwind from the stress that is inevitably built up from all of the situations I find myself in, especially my line of work.
I might as well come clean now; I’m a thief... or at least I used to be. I was a pretty good one too. Over the years I made it a point to infiltrate particularly opulent estates and relieve the noble ponies within from the burden of an overabundance of wealth. As such, I became rather infamous. They even gave me a nickname: “The Raven”. I was honestly flattered when I heard about that one.
Don’t get me wrong, I may have been a thief but I wasn’t a bad pony. Or at least I don’t think so. I only stole from people who could afford it; and in Canterlot, there was no lack of high-strutting noble ponies who practically begged to have some of their valuables relieved from their possession. I mostly liked the challenge of it all though. There’s nothing like the feeling of sneaking out of a giant, gaudy mansion with saddlebags full of loot and the residents none the wiser.
I have had a few close calls however—ergo the aforementioned stress. There was one time when a certain Prince came back with a date much earlier than I expected. I spent five and a half hours stuck underneath his bed before they both fell asleep. I have to give him credit, though; that stallion may be a hopeless fop, but he sure has stamina.
Another time, a guard noticed me as I was prying a window open in an attempt to sneak out quietly. I had to knock three of them unconscious before being chased by score of other guards who I eventually lost in a maze of alleyways and side streets. I didn’t feel comfortable going outside for a week after that particular fiesta.
Despite many of these close calls, I was good enough that I had never been caught.
That is, until my last heist.
I sat on my bed in the middle of a daydream when the ringing of a bell snapped me out of my momentary reverie. I took the phonograph pin off of the record and got out of my bed with a groan.
There was a small rusty old mail box waaaay at the front of the warehouse. I had set up a notification bell while back. When something is placed in the box, the bell rang in what used to be the manager’s office, where I spent most of my time. I sometimes get an ad or two for stuff like a used patio furniture sale, but usually my mail consisted of job requests and related material.
After I had made somewhat of a name for myself, some shady ponies sometimes came to me asking to do their dirty work for them. For a price, of course. I’m not complaining, the bits were good, but I still mostly did it for the challenge anyway. Mostly.
I made my way down to the warehouse floor, carefully stepping over various booby traps that I set up for some extra protection, just in case. Inside the mailbox was a small note with surprisingly flowery hoofwriting.
It read:
Midnight tonight. Beggar’s Alley.
Your services will be well compensated.
So it was going to be one of those jobs. I’d seen this kind of thing before; I would meet the client in some shady alley in the middle of the night with him/her in a cloak or something similar to stay anonymous (One time it was a masquerade mask. That one was fun.). He might even have a voice altering charm if he is extra cautious. The meeting would start, and the client would give a few terse remarks about how he was doing this at great personal risk, then he would hand me a package with more detailed instructions that I would read later. It was all very cliché, but the types of ponies who went through all of this trouble were usually ones who had quite a bit to lose, so the pay would at least be decent.
Four hours later I was cold and bored in the corner of some dank alleyway in the middle of Canterlot. The contents of some drunkard’s stomach were fermenting in a nearby doorway, filling the entire alley with its putrid aroma. I’d smelled worse, but I still wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
A figure made its way towards me before resolving into a dark silhouette of a pony. The lighting was terrible and I couldn’t make out his face because of his cloak. I was assuming the figure before me was a buck. No mare had that stocky of a profile. Plus, I had a feeling. He stopped next to me and stood facing the other direction.
The mysterious pony spoke. “I’ve come here at great personal risk, you know. I heard that you get the job done. I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
Sketchy alleyway? Check.
Terse remarks? Check.
Cloak and unnaturally deep voice? Checkity-check.
The figure looked furtively around before handing me a small package. “Further instructions are in here, as well as a sum that you will most assuredly find satisfactory. The money will be delivered upon completion of the job. Your complete discretion is required.”
Package with instructions? We have a bingo!
“Understood” I replied, trying to sound as professional as possible. I received a small snort of approval in response. I put the package in my saddlebags as the client looked around one more time before setting off towards an adjacent alley. Halfway across the street his front stepped in a puddle that was deeper than expected. I had to keep a hoof over my mouth as a gaggle of giggles tried to escape at the sight of him with the front half of his body entirely covered in mud and who knows what else. A muttered “filthy commoners” floated across to my ears and I made my exit, eager to get back home and warm up in my bed.
The nice thing about living in an abandoned textile warehouse is that you literally have tons of different kinds of fabric to use however you want. A fire inspector would have an aneurism, but it’s is very convenient when you want to warm up on a cold night. After snuggling in my bed for about half an hour, I mustered my energy to open the package. In it were four things: a picture of a small black box, a copy of the floor plan for the Royal Archives, a note, and heavy cast iron key with a small crescent moon engraved in the handle. Interesting... My client was most likely some minor noble from the Canterlotian upper class, but what did a noblepony want from the archives that they couldn’t get themselves? Nobles had almost unlimited access to the archives as it was.
An arrow drawn on the floor plan pointed to a door on the north side of the Canterlot Archives with the words “Lunar Wing” and “3751” scribbled alongside. The Canterlot Royal Archives had a Lunar Wing? As far as I knew, nopony had ever heard of such a thing. Canterlot was built almost a thousand years ago, right after the banishment of Nightmare Moon, and I found it difficult to believe that not a single word about this “Lunar Wing” had made its way to the public after all that time. Very, very interesting.
There must be some serious stuff in there for the benevolent leader of ponykind to keep an entire portion of the Archives a closely guarded secret. Now I was just burning to find out what was inside.
The picture included in the package was an unassuming, and very old looking black box. That’s probably my target. I moved onto the note next. It read:
“Alcove 3751 contains the subject of the attached picture. Retrieve this box. Under absolutely no circumstances will you open the box. Once it is retrieved from the Archives a meeting will be arranged under the full moon immediately following the time that this package is opened.”
I worked my way through the rest of it, reading aloud to myself. “Let’s see, try not to be seen, don’t get caught, blah blah blah boring boring boring, services will be compensated to the amount of—SWEET CELESTIA! That’s a lot of zeroes!”
****
The building that held the Canterlot Archives was much more impressive up close than I thought it would be, even this late at night. I hadn’t really ever had much of a reason to venture into upper Canterlot before aside from a few jobs. When I did visit the upper echelons of the Equestrian capitol, I only ever saw the sun-tipped spire and the gold-purple roof of the archives far in the distance. Up close it was really quite a sight.
I stood on a tower opposite the magnificent building and watched the guards at their post by the front entrance. The changing of the guard happened at precisely midnight; a moment when a small dark shape blotting out the light of a handful of stars as it passed overhead would go unnoticed.
It was almost 11:58, time to double check everything. I don’t have the benefit of either a pair of wings or a horn, so I’ve had to compensate with ingenuity. In my saddlebags were a number of items to aid me in my various endeavors; different things that helped me detect and evade traps (both magical and otherwise), confound any pursuers, create distractions, and generally help me get around. I was about to use one of my favorites to get across to the archives quickly and silently. It was a large black cloak with modifications partly inspired by the Power Pony comics that I used to read as a filly. Mistress Marevoulous was my favorite. It served two functions: one was to conceal my identity and to blend in with the shadows, and the second was to allow me to glide with surprising effectiveness.
It was time to go. I began my ritual of double checking all of the straps and supplies while the guards down below began a ritual of their own.
I tightened the straps around my chest.
The door to the archive opened. Two guards emerged perfectly in sync.
I secured my saddlebags.
They took ten steps forward.
Put hooves in gliding loops.
Turn left.
Step up to ledge.
Salute.
Jump.
Turn right.
Glide.
Five steps.
Aim for second floor.
Turn back.
Land on ledge.
Ten steps.
Open window.
Take position.
Sneak in.
Once I got through the window, I took a few breaths to calm myself down a bit. There was something about moving through the air with no connection to the ground whatsoever that was simply exhilarating. No wonder Pegasi loved doing it so much.
I took a glance down both ends of the hallway that I had found myself in. Nopony was coming. Good.
I took a deep breath in. Letting it out slowly, I concentrated on the entrance to the Lunar Wing, searching for the familiar tugging sensation at the base of my skull.
Maybe I should take a second to give a little explanation. Everypony has a special talent, that’s just a fact of Equestrian life. For some its things like gardening, cooking, growing apples, banishing evil—stuff like that. My special talent is finding stuff, as illustrated by my cutie mark; a blue rose with compass points around it. I guess that’s one reason why I’ve done relatively well for myself as a thief. When I need to find something I can kind of put myself on autopilot and my hooves end up taking me to where I needed to go. My subconscious compass, as I’ve come to call it, is by no means perfect, but I won’t deny that it has come in handy quite a few times.
According to the floor plan there was a staircase on both the west and east sides of the archives. The sharp clop of my hooves floated gently through the air as I headed towards the western staircase to make my way down to the first floor. I just want to make one thing clear right now; I really hate marble. First of all, buildings made entirely out of the stuff are impractical as Tartarus, and secondly they echo too damn much.
The corridor I was traveling down intersected with another about twenty feet ahead of me. I was severely regretting my lack of more significant foot padding as I heard two guards coming down the corridor on my left.
“Hey, did you hear that?” I heard one of them say.
I froze instantly, ducking behind a conveniently located arch. The guards hadn’t passed the intersection of the two hallways so luckily they hadn’t caught sight of me yet.
“Hear what?” replied the other as they both stepped into the intersection and stood there.
“It sounded like hoofsteps. Just listen for a second…” A moment of silence the size of a pregnant manticore passed by. I really didn’t feel like knocking them out if they saw me. Hiding unconscious bodies is such a hassle.
I stood pressed up against the inside of the arch; standing as still as one of the courtyard statues outside without making a single sound.
Keep going! Stop taking your sweet time! I thought to myself, willing them to just get a move on already.
“I can’t hear it anymore. Weird. Think we should check it out?”
“Nah, its probably nothing.”
They started moving down the hallway again. “Hey, do you remember when that Twilight Sparkle mare tried sneaking into the Starswirl the Bearded wing?”
“Oh yeah, I remember that! Lance was the one that found her in that crazy getup. He talked about that for month. Isn’t she a Princess now? I was stationed in Baltimare so I missed the whole coronation.”
“She got the wings and everything. Although, I heard that she just lives in the Ponyville Library.”
“Ponyville? I have a cousin down there. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, maybe I should go visit...”
I waited for the guards to turn a corner before going on my way, making sure to step as lightly as possible. The rest of the way down was thankfully much less eventful. Luckily for me there weren’t too many guards out and about at this hour.
I found myself walking down a corridor that quickly transitioned from the gleaming white marble of the rest of the archives to a wet, dull brown stone that belonged in some subterranean cave. The tunnel descended quite a ways and I counted twelve sputtering blue torches before I came to a pair of intimidatingly large wrought-iron doors. A complex moon motif had been worked into the doors themselves and it looked like both of them combined weighed several tons. A giant neon sign repeatedly flashing “LUNAR WING LUNAR WING LUNAR WING” would have been just about as subtle.
The door didn’t have any handles and I couldn’t see a keyhole, so lacking a better idea I reached out with my hooves to push them open. I nearly jumped out of my skin as a voice that sounded suspiciously like Princess Luna’s reverberated throughout the hallway.
“Entry for authorized personnel only. Present passkey to proceed.”
I struggled briefly with an impulse to drop everything and run. The voice was only an automated recording spell of some kind that was most likely worked into the security enchantments that protected these doors. They made a barely audible click as a small metal plate slid away to reveal a keyhole in the center of the pair of iron monoliths. I pulled the key out from my saddlebags and gently slid it into place, turning it clockwise with my hooves until it stopped.
“Passkey accepted. Security clearance level five granted. You may proceed.”
There was the sound of gears and the ratcheting of metal as whatever locking mechanisms and protective spells in the doors disengaged. They swung slowly open with deceptive silence to reveal a passageway that led into the black maw of the unknown. I stepped across the threshold and the doors closed silently behind me, momentarily trapping me in an abyss of darkness.
Wait a second! The key was still in the door when it closed! How was I supposed to get out now? Before my panic could reach critical levels, a row of torches magically sprung to life one after the other, illuminating the room with their otherworldly light. There was another door at the end of the passage. This one was smaller than the last two and was further set apart by a strange blue crystal mounted above it. This door didn’t have handles either and it refused to budge after a few moments of fruitless shoving. All of a sudden the crystal above the door glowed brightly once, followed by a beam of light that almost seemed as if it was examining me. The light stopped and the same voice from before rang out, but the much smaller space of the passage greatly amplified its force.
“Magical signature detected. Clearance level five permitted. State password to proceed.”
A password? I didn’t know that I needed a password! A small feeling of dread began to grow in my stomach. “Umm…moonrocks?” I said hesitantly.
“Password not recognized. State correct password within thirty seconds or face compulsory incineration.”
“Incineration! You have got to be kidding me!” I replied in exasperation.
“Thirty seconds,” came its reply.
Think Cerulean! Think! He wouldn’t have left out an important detail like this! It had to be in that letter. I must have missed it when I was skimming through it.
“Come on come on come on where are you?” I said to myself as I rifled through my saddlebags, searching for the letter with growing urgency.
“Password not recognized. Twenty seconds.”
“You aren’t helping here!” I cried, frustrated.
“I am not required to help. I am only required to incinerate those without a password. Eighteen seconds” it replied with an almost smug air. Just perfect. Being sassed by a trigger happy recording was definitely not on my list of ways to go.
“Aha! Found you!” I exclaimed, pulling the letter out from my saddlebags. I began to scan the letter frantically for a way out of this predicament.
“Password not recognized. Fifteen seconds.”
I made it two thirds of the way down the page before I found what I was looking for. I had to do a double take when I saw it. This had to be a practical joke of some kind.
“Ten seconds.”
At that mark the glow from the crystal above the door became significantly more threatening as sparks of electricity began to gather around it. Nothing else for it at this point. I read what was written down on the letter.
“Security clearance code ‘Sunbutt’: confirm” I read. I really hoped that “Sunbutt” wouldn’t be the last word I ever spoke.
Silence.
“Password confirmed. You may proceed.” I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. The crystal dimmed as the door swung outward with a wooden creak. It seemed like a certain Princess of the Night wasn’t without a sense of humor.
This was too much. Almost getting caught by guards was one thing, but evading death by incineration by the skin of my teeth crossed a line. I wasn’t sure which line in particular it crossed, but it definitely crossed one of them. After this job I would lay really low. Maybe take a short vacation to the beaches of Los Pegasus to unwind for a month or so. However, at that moment, the beach was a long ways away and, lacking a better alternative, I decided to press onwards.
The second door led to a set of stairs going downwards. I followed them for what felt like an eternity before I emerged into what could be best described as a gigantic underground chasm. Alcoves of various sizes had been dug out of the side of the chasm; each with a large stone door and a corresponding number etched into it to guard whatever lay inside. There had to have been thousands of them. Moonlight streamed through a large fissure in the ceiling, illuminating the entire area in a soft pale glow. Looking up I could see the full moon among the starlit sky.
Hold on a minute. The last full moon was five nights ago, and the last time I checked there wasn’t a huge fissure going through the middle of Canterlot. Plus those stairs went deep enough to lead straight into the heart of the mountain that Canterlot perched upon, the Canterhorn.
Something wasn’t adding up here…
I chalked it up to some kind of freaky unicorn magic and tossed it in the folder in my mind labeled “Stuff I Don’t Need To Understand”. Next to that folder were ones for remembering cooking recipes and where to quietly dispose of a body in an emergency, but that’s beside the point.
I trotted lightly over to a small platform that hung next to the edge of the ravine. The platform itself was suspended from a mechanism that looked similar in function to the ones they used to move shipping containers around in ports. Most likely, that platform was how those without the benefit of wings could get themselves down to the storage alcoves.
On the platform (which thankfully had a set of railings so I wouldn’t accidentally fall over) were an arrangement of four levers with a number that corresponded with each of them. The four levers were pushed all the way back so that the numbers read “0-0-0-0”. I pulled each lever so that the numbers all read “3-5-7-1”. When the last number clicked into place the section of railing that let me step onto the platform slid shut. The platform lurched downwards with a mechanic rattle that disturbed a group of bats sleeping peacefully on several stalactites nearby. Dodging the flock of irate bats filling the air, the platform descended into the depths of the ravine. I counted the numbers on the alcoves as I passed them by.
“One thousand two hundred and seventy five, two hundred and thirty six, one thousand nine hundred and nineteen, five thousand and four, one thousand one hundred and thirty eight, forty two.” This whole place seemed to have been organized by a madpony, none of these numbers made any sense!
The platform eventually stopped in front of alcove number 3571. There was a keyhole in the stone door, just like the one in the entrance to the Lunar Wing. My only problem at this point was that the key was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, my right saddlebag got significantly heavier. I opened it up to see what caused the sudden change in weight when I saw…the key. One more thing for “Stuff I Don’t Need to Understand”, that folder would be full by next Tuesday at this rate.
Nervously I put the key in the stone keyhole. I half expected that voice to appear and demand me to take a pop quiz where the consequence for failure would be a pleasant round of keelhauling. Instead, when I turned the key in the lock the entire door just disappeared completely, revealing the small box from the picture sitting on a pedestal. In my surprise at several tons of rock suddenly taking a leave of absence from existence I almost dropped the key down the chasm, never to be seen again. Luckily I managed to knock it towards the pedestal with my hoof. I walked into the alcove to pick up the key and the box, depositing both safely in my saddlebags.
When I turned back around to the platform I saw a shadow flicker briefly out of the corner of my eye. I spun quickly towards the offending direction but I didn’t see anything that could have caused a shadow like that. The hairs on the back of my neck began to raise; I felt something dangerous out there, and it wasn’t the bats.
With that, I decided to make my way back as quickly as possible. I stepped back on the platform and practically shoved the levers back up to their original position. The part of the railing that had opened when I arrived at the alcove slid shut again with a soft click and the platform began its slow journey back to the top. I willed the whole contraption to move faster as I kept my eyes open for any more strange shadows, but the machine stubbornly refused to accelerate its steady pace.
Finally the rickety contraption reached the top of the ravine giving one last clank as it settled into its slot. I leapt over the railing, not bothering to wait for it to open on its own. The feeling of being watched by something very dangerous was very much present. I hardly wanted to stick around to find out if the Lunar Wing had a *gulp* dragon for a watchdog.
Or something worse.
I raced up the stairs that I had descended less than ten minutes earlier. Thankfully the sassy crystal of incineratory death didn’t bother me on my way out. The two doors had locked themselves after I passed through on my way in. Fortunately, I still had the key to unlock them again.
I slid the key into the keyhole on the inside of the giant metal doors and gave it a quick turn to the side with my mouth. Slowly and silently the doors swung outwards, revealing a group of five unicorn guards looking straight at me with horns primed and ready to go.
“There she is!” the one in the middle shouted. “Quick! Stun her! Princess Luna wants her unharmed!”
Horseapples.
I dodged a stun spell from the first guard and took out a little something to help even the odds a bit. Mareuvian cave gems are really quite fascinating little things; they grow in caverns deep underneath the surface of the earth where no light can get to them. Yet, for some reason, when these strange little crystals are exposed to light it gets absorbed and stored inside the crystal, emitting the stored light gradually in a soft glow. However, if the storage matrices of a crystal were disrupted for some reason—say from being thrown forcefully on the ground at the hooves of a group of Canterlot guards—then all the light stored in the crystals would be released in a single blinding flash.
I leapt past the blinded guards as the stun spells they had readied on their horns fizzled out of existence. I wasn’t too worried about them chasing me. Their vision would come back… eventually. Though, by then I would be sitting on a passenger chariot flight to Las Pegasus with a significantly larger amount of bits in my bank account. I really needed a break from this kind of stuff, a reckless life of thievery takes its toll on a mare.
I flew down the corridors as I looked for a way out.
Well no, I didn’t actually fly down the corridor. Y’know, cause I’m not a pegasus. I was just running really fast down a hallway. It’s not that complicated…
Sorry. I’ll get on with it.
Anyways, I was running really fast down the hallways of the Canterlot Archives, avoiding guards and searching for a way out, when I saw a shadow flicker in the corner of my eye, just like down in the Lunar Chasm. Suddenly, a pony in a cloak as dark as a moonless night stepped into the corridor ahead of me. My hooves skidded on the ground as I scrambled frantically to change my direction down a hallway on my right. Stupid slippery marble floors in this stupid marble building.
I tried to put as much distance between myself and that figure as I could, something about it just spelled danger in all capital letters. I ran up a set of stairs in front of me as a plan formed in my head. The plan was simple: go up. Everypony would be focused on the ground floor, expecting me to get out that way. Nopony would expect me to actually go upwards. I just needed to find a window, glide out with my cloak when nopony was looking and lose myself in the warren of alleys and streets that was Canterlot.
With only the thought of going up in my mind I continued to climb the stairs. So far my plan was working perfectly. Thanks to the marble hallways I could hear the sound of the galloping guard’s hooves clattering around on the lower floors and nothing on the upper floors. I guess echoey hallways have their upsides too.
I slowed down and tried to make my hoofsteps as quiet as possible. I didn’t want some lucky guard to hear me and ruin everything when he comes investigating. I peeked around the corner of the next hallway to see that it was considerately guard-free. This particular hallway had a few doors on both sides, presumably which led to various rooms of the ‘Tax Records’ department—judging by the small signs next to each door. A beam of moonlight shone through the single window at the end of the hallway; my way out!
I began to move towards my newfound exit, but my hooves froze in place when something strange started happening at the end of the hallway. The shadows cast by the moonlight began to writhe and move around, almost as if they were alive. A mass of particularly dark shadows gathered together and surged upwards, resolving into the figure of my mysterious cloaked pursuer. The dark cloak completely obscured all of the pony’s distinguishing figures, but even so I could tell that it was the same pony that had cut me off earlier. My way out was now completely blocked by somepony with some kind of magic that I had never seen before.
The dark figure turned and looked straight at me. Eyes that I couldn’t see burned straight through my skull. Everything in the hallway seemed to fade into darkness until it was only me, frozen in inexplicable fear, and the figure making its way slowly towards me. As the figure drew closer everything about it grew more and more threatening until it felt like I was being stared down by a beast several times my size with teeth as sharp as knives. Every part of my body was screaming “Danger! Run away! Run away! RUN AWAY!” but my body stubbornly refused to move.
Time seemed to be passing at an incredibly slow pace; the space between the figure’s steps felt like an eternity. The entire time my fear just kept growing until it felt like my heart would explode out of my chest. With an incredible amount of will I forced my left hoof to move less than an inch forward. Then my right hoof, and then my left a little more. My movements seemed to give the figure pause, almost as if it was surprised that I could move at all.
As I gained momentum, I forced my body through the closest door I could get to. I stumbled into a small windowless room full of shelves upon shelves of tax forms and records. I slumped against the door, keeping it shut with my weight, as I struggled to tame my hammering heartbeat. My nose was filled with the combined scents of sweat and reams upon reams of old paper and my breath came out in ragged gasps.
That thing was still outside and there was no way out through this room. No windows or air vents to squeeze through for a last minute escape. I was trapped.
“Come on Cerulean!” I thought to myself. “You can do this! You’ve gotten out of tighter spots than this before!”
I hadn’t. I closed my eyes in resignation. There was no way out, and I knew it.
“You know, I’m actually quite impressed.”
I almost jumped out of my skin with those words. Somehow, that pony had gotten in the room in the split second that I closed my eyes, doing so without opening the door or making a single noise. Whoever it was had a surprisingly normal-sounding voice, not at all as sinister as his initial appearance would make it seem.
“Most ponies pass out by that point. They just can’t take it any longer and their body gives out.” He took a second before continuing. I could tell that he was a he because he was now close enough that I could barely make out his face. His coat was a deep indigo blue. I couldn’t get a good look at his mane because of his hood, but I thought I could see a hint of white. The most interesting thing about his appearance though was a strange pattern of black lines that began around the edges of his face that accented his features and seemed to continue down his neck, like they had been drawn on with a dark pen. It reminded me of the warrior tattoos of the Mareori tribe that I had once read about in some book a long time ago. It certainly gave the buck in front of me a fierce looking appearance.
“It certainly takes a pony with a certain kind of constitution to last that long, let alone work up the strength to actually move. And the way you used that crystal thingamajig to discombobulate those guards before they could do the same to you? Inspiring!” he said rather excitedly.
“H-how?” I could only ask, significantly confused by his behavior.
“I’ve been watching you for some time actually. Longer than just today for sure. I was following a hunch and I turned out to be right! It’s so fun when that happens, isn’t it?” he replied, with a large grin at that last sentence. “Unfortunately,” he amended, “this is the part where I throw you in the dungeon for five counts of bodily harm, one count of trespassing in a high security area, attempted thievery, and intent to sell a very powerful, very dangerous, and very old artifact to a group of particularly nasty individuals. I hope you realize that it’s nothing personal.”
I didn’t even have enough time to make a sound before he pulled out a small needle and held it in his hoof. Wait a second! That was one of my tranquilizer darts! I kept five of them attached to a small band on my foreleg, in case I needed to knock out somepony quickly and quietly. Of course I put caps on the ends so that I wouldn’t accidentally knock myself out. They were highly effective. I should know, I brewed the sleeping potions myself. I looked down at my foreleg and sure enough, all five of them were gone. When did he-
His hoof moved with an incredible speed and less than a moment later I felt a small sting on my neck before everything went a little woozy. As I began to lose consciousness I heard him say one last thing to himself.
“Interesting… very interesting indeed…”
And then everything went black.
Author's Note
So here it is, the first chapter in all its glory! I tend to write whenever I both feel like it and have the time; two conditions which, unfortunately, do not occur very often. Updates will be sporadic, but I will do my best to keep updating because I really do want to see this story all the way through. Here's to my first published story ever!
“So you got caught.”
“That’s right. What about it?”
“Nothing! I was just curious, that’s all. I had heard about you back when you were stealing from noble ponies. I was just wondering how somepony like you ended up here.”
“You mean working for Princess Luna?
“Yes. How did she convince you?”
“Easily. She gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
***********
I was in prison. I wasn’t unfamiliar with the feeling of waking up on a cold stone floor. After all, sleeping on the floor isn’t so bad once you get used to it. Waking up after being knocked out, however, is never fun. I caught the back half of a sentence as I began to regain my senses.
“-diolus are you sure about this?” said a voice.
“She has potential, Princess. I’ve seen her in action. I think she can handle it.” replied another voice that also seemed vaguely familiar. My head was still a little foggy and whatever part of my brain that was responsible for recognizing voices hadn’t quite woken up yet.
“My concern is not whether she can ‘handle it’ as you say, but rather that she can be trusted.”
Apparently these two ponies were having a conversation, and that conversation seemed to be about me.
I awoke facing away from the front of the cell so I couldn’t see whoever was talking, but I could pretend to still be asleep and keep listening to them.
“I think she can be trusted, but I will be watching her in case she does something stupid. Plus, I did some digging and her parents-”
“Hold for a moment Gladiolus. It seems that we are no longer the only ones privy to this conversation.” The first voice changed slightly to address me. “Good morning young one, or rather, good afternoon. Your tranquilizer is quite effective, you have been asleep for almost fifteen hours.”
I had made an effort to keep my breathing slow and steady and to not make any movements that might give me away. I was impressed. With a small groan I sat up to face my inquisitors, my muscles felt like they had been liquefied. I was somewhat surprised to see both Princess Luna and the mysterious pony that knocked me out. I had been expecting to meet Princess Luna at some point but I was surprised that I would be graced with her illustrious presence so soon. (That was supposed to be sarcasm, by the way)
“How could you tell?” I asked weakly.
“I am the Princess of the Night. It is my duty to safeguard the ponies of this realm while they sleep. After many years of experience, I can tell when somepony is ‘faking it’.” She stopped for a moment before continuing. “I assume that you heard the last part of our conversation just now, but that is not important. What is important is that you understand exactly why you are in the position you currently find yourself.”
I looked around at the stone walls of my cell and at the pair of ponies on the other side of the bars and shrugged. “I’m in the dungeon because I took that little box from the archives, that’s it.” I said, stating the obvious.
“Wrong!” The princess boomed before turning towards me to deliver the full brunt of her royal stare. “You are in the dungeons because you put every single creature in Equestria, no, the entire world, in mortal danger! Have you stopped to consider the fact that there might be a very good reason for having all of that security?” I just sat there nervously looking at my hooves. This was like being told off by your teacher but a million times worse, since in this case detention could last for the rest of your life.
Her lecture continued.
“This world is full of things that have the potential to cause great harm not only to Equestrians, but others as well. Many such dangers have been locked away; at no small cost in both effort and lives so that the ponies in this kingdom can live in peace! Yet here you are after attempting to nullify all of the hard work and sacrifices that we have made.” Princess Luna didn’t drastically raise her voice throughout her speech, but the sheer intensity with which she spoke chilled me to the very bone. I was just starting to realize that I had messed up. Badly.
“I-I’m sorry” I apologized weakly, shaken by the force of her words.
“Good. It seems you are beginning to understand the gravity of your actions.” She turned and began slowly pacing the length of the area outside my cell. “Your crimes are grievous indeed. Normally, they would amount to summary banishment from Equestria for the rest of your life.”
I balked at the idea. By our very nature ponies are herd creatures; it’s why we have such tightly-knit communities. Being separated from one’s herd for the rest of their life was a punishment almost worse than death.
“However, you have managed to pique the interest of Gladiolus here whose judgment I have come to respect.” She gestured to cloaked pony who had been watching silently the whole time. “I am willing to give you a choice: either face banishment from Equestria or put your effort towards protecting this country. If you were to choose the second option then you would join my Night Wardens under Gladiolus’ supervision. I also know of the current situation in regards to your mother. Keep her in mind as you make your decision.”
I vaguely remembered hearing about something called the Night Wardens before, probably from some old mare’s tale. They were supposed to be a special group of ponies that did stuff like driving off monsters that ventured too close to villages and stuff like that. Rumors and conspiracy theories about them floated around for centuries, but nopony seriously thought that they existed. Apparently they were wrong, and apparently the pony that caught me last night was one of them.
I took a moment to think about the options; on one hoof I had the prospect of banishment from everything I had ever known while the other hoof held a prospective life of fighting monsters and doing who knows what else. Neither option seemed very enticing, but eventually I made up my mind.
“Alright, I’ll join your little night club,” I answered grudgingly.
“Wonderful! You have made the right choice this day. Although you should keep in mind that my Night Wardens are much more than a ‘night club’ as you say” she replied.
Yeah, like I really had a choice in the first place.
Princess Luna went on, “Gladiolus will see to your preparation and training. He will make sure that you will be prepared for the trials ahead—the first of which will be your initiation in the Everfree Forest.”
Wait a second. Initiation? In the Everfree Forest? Not the Everfree Forest! That’s full of manticores, timberwolves, and other terrifying pony-eating creatures!
...Suddenly banishment didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Before I could ask if banishment was still an option the Princess began wrapping things up.
“My duties call me elsewhere. Farewell Gladiolus, and farewell Cerulean Rose. I trust that you will continue to make the right choice.” She looked me right in the eye before she teleported away with a small pop. Doubtlessly she was going to intimidate some other poor unfortunate soul.
“I guess that’s my cue to let you out” the pony named Gladiolus said, producing a large ring of keys which he used to unlock my cell. I walked unsteadily out of my cell. The tranquilizer hadn’t worn off completely yet.
“So what now?” I asked as I walked up to my new proctor.
“Now you stick with me and we see if you can learn a thing or two.” He replied
“I can do that” I said.
“Good. I have some business I need to see to and you’re going to tag along. Of course, if you try running I’ll make sure you end up straight back here, and I doubt that Princess Luna will be so generous the second time around.” He finished that off with a look that could be described as…teasing? (Now, I've been working with this guy for a while now, and I still don’t get him)
He continued: “Oh, I have one more thing for you,” he said as he pulled a decently sized bag from the depths of his cloak and handed it to me. I opened it up to see that the bag was completely full of bits. “What’s this for?” I inquired.
“That’s the first half your pay for this month. Believe it or not Night Wardens actually get decently paid. Some of our jobs even offer bonuses depending on the difficulty. Just think of this as an incentive.”
This was only half? And I could get bonuses? Nice! Gladiolus gave a small grin at seeing my monetarily motivated excitement. Things were starting to look a little bit brighter than they had five minutes ago.
We stopped by the armory so I could get back my confiscated gear. Gladiolus didn’t have the key for the armory on his key ring so he had to get one of the castle guards to unlock it for him. I trotted inside, resisting the urge to ‘misplace’ a few particularly shiny objects, and went over to the chest that had my belongings in it. After reassuring myself that all of my stuff was present and in order I put on my cloak and saddlebags; feeling much more secure in the knowledge that they were now safely attached to my body.
My eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the sunlight as we stepped outside. I noticed that Gladiolus squinted harshly before pulling up his hood. With his hood up I suddenly had difficulty making out his face again, despite the fact that it was midday and I was less than five feet away from him. It seemed like he and sunlight didn’t get along very well. “Well come on!” he said before setting off in a seemingly random direction.
I followed behind as we walked through the streets of Canterlot. We left the upper echelons and delved into the part of the city that was built more into the mountain itself. From ground level only the castle is really visible because it sticks out so much, but the city actually goes back quite far. Canterlot has several layers, and as a general rule the farther away from the castle you are the less opulent things get. The iconic gold-and-purple spires of Canterlot’s more affluent areas gave way to simpler purple-tiled roofs as we worked our way towards the edges of the city. We ended up in front of a popular tavern the name of “The Golden Bit”. The sign above the door featured a weathered bit next to a frosting mug of cider. The sign was simple enough but it managed to get the point across.
Gladiolus hadn’t said a word during the whole walk and I hadn’t really felt like pestering him with questions, but after ending up in a place like this I couldn’t contain my curiosity. “Why are we here of all places?” I asked impatiently.
“This is just the first of a few stops before we get going. I just need to pick a little something up for later. You can wait out here if you want. This place kind of has a rough reputation” he replied.
“No thanks, I think I’ll come in.” I answered, not wanting to seem weak, but also curious about what exactly he wanted to pick up. I could already hear the music of whatever band was playing in the bar from outside, but inside the bar itself the music was just plain loud. The place was packed with all sorts of different ponies too and their conversations combined with the already loud music produced a noise that made it difficult to think. There might even have been a griffon or two in there too but it was hard to tell for sure because the room was so packed.
Gladiolus pulled his hood down as he entered the building and I followed behind as he headed towards the bartender. We managed to find a couple of seats at the bar right next to two particularly rough looking patrons. Gladiolus managed to catch the attention of the barkeeper who responded with a friendly greeting.
“Gladiolus! It’s good to see you! What brings you to my humble establishment? Not chasing another rogue Vampony are you?”
“It’s good to see you Tab, and no, I’m not after any rogues today. A drink sounds pretty good right about now though.”
“Hold on a second and I’ll get your usual whipped up in a jiffy,” the barkeep replied. With that he turned around and I watched him as he skillfully poured various liquids into a glass mug. I could’ve sworn that one of those bottles had a skull and crossbones on it, but it might have been the light playing tricks on me.
The bartender placed the glass in front of Gladiolus. “One Scorpion, on the house. So, who’s your marefriend?” the bartender asked.
“I’m not his marefriend!” I said indignantly. Gladiolus only laughed as my face reddened by several shades. “She’s actually the reason I’m here. I need to pick up a vial of the special stuff.” He said the last part in a conspiratory whisper that I almost missed over the din of other conversations. The bartender’s demeanor completely changed as he gave Gladiolus a strange look. A look that I didn’t quite like.
“For her? She doesn’t even have her marks yet! Isn’t it a bit early for that? Especially after how the last one turned out…” The way he trailed off after that last sentence set off several alarm bells in my head.
“What last one? What is he talking about?” I demanded to Gladiolus. He pretended I hadn’t said anything and answered the bartender instead. “I have a good feeling about this one. Just trust me on this one, okay?”
“If you say so, but only because it’s you Gladiolus. If Chestnut or any of the other captains came in with a pre-initiate I’d tell them no. Just give me a moment to get it.” The door swung shut behind Tapper as he disappeared into the back rooms.
“What was he talking about Gladiolus?” I asked, “Why did he look so worried?”
He turned and looked me straight in the eye. “I’ll be honest with you, the path ahead is full of dangers. Many have gone down the same path before you, and some of them didn’t make it. But I’ve seen you in action and I’m sure you’ll be just fine!” He punctuated the last remark with a playful jab at my shoulder. While his words were strangely comforting, I had a nagging feeling that he had said the same thing to whoever came before me.
Gladiolus returned his attention to his now half-empty mug. I was about to ask him another question when the tough-looking pony sitting to his right butted in instead. The pony had a large scar running down the side of his face and wore what seemed to be a battle-scarred set of barding. He looked intimidating but he hardly seemed like the sharpest broadsword in the armory. The bruiser drunkenly nudged Gladiolus in an attempt to get his attention.
“Hey pretty boy, what’s with the stripes? Ya got some kind of zebra fetish or something?” Gladiolus calmly took a sip from his mug before placing it back down on the counter. “Hey stripey! I was talking to you!” he said, his growing anger becoming more apparent. When Gladiolus’ only response was to continue sipping from his drink the larger pony’s anger only grew. The bruiser stood up and violently kicked back the barstool he had been sitting on. It hit the floor with a metallic clatter and came skidding to rest a couple of tables down. The lively music ground to a halt and suddenly every eye in the bar was on us. The buck in his alcohol-fueled anger brought his hoof down heavily on top of the bar counter, causing several other pony’s drinks to fall over and Gladiolus’ mug to jump several inches in the air. At this display Gladiolus finally turned his head to look at the angry pony beside him.
“You know, almost spilling somepony’s drink is considered quite rude in most civilized company. However, I’ll let it slide this time since you are obviously not such.” he said, looking the angered stallion right in the eye.
“Why you little-!” The bruiser made a move towards Gladiolus, intending to break his jaw. What happened next occurred in less than a moment.
Right before the enraged stallion’s right hook connected with Gladiolus’ jaw the entire room was plunged into pitch darkness. There were a few thwacks and a heavy thud or two, and when I could see again the previously aggressive pony was hanging from the chandelier by his armor, unconscious, and Gladiolus was at the bar sipping his drink like nothing had happened. The musicians started up again and everypony else in the bar went back to their own business.
I sat on my stool, stunned. “What the hay was that?” I asked him.
“Just a little party trick” he said with a wink. It was at that moment that Tab, the bartender, returned with a moderately sized vial of some strange swirling liquid which quickly disappeared into the depths of Gladiolus’ cloak. “Thanks a lot, Tab,” he said before giving him a hoof-full of bits. “That’s for the mess. Sorry about that.” Tapper just gave an exasperated sigh. “I should be used to it by now, but for some reason I always expect your next visit to be a quiet one. I should know better by now.”
Gladiolus stood up, leaving his now empty mug on the counter. Tab moved over to a throng of thirsty customers as we headed towards the door. I followed Gladiolus as we went back out into Canterlot proper.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s with the stripes? Y’know, those” I said, pointing to the thin marks that traced across his face and down his neck like the lines of a contour map.
“These things?” he asked. I nodded in conformation. “Well they’re more than just a fashion statement. It’s actually kind of complicated so I’ll try to keep it short. Essentially, they’re a symbol of a Night Warden who has shown their worth by passing the initiation. These markings are a part of a Night Warden’s identity, like your eye color or cutie mark; and like your cutie mark once you get them they stick around. The lines are a representation of the natural magical leylines in your body. Since every pony is different, no two Night Wardens have the same leyline structure. They also let you do some cool stuff too.”
“What, like that weird shadowy stuff you were doing while you were chasing me through the archives?”
“That’s only part of it, but yes. It’s more complicated than that, but I’ll leave that talk until after the initiation. For now, just think of it as a second cutie mark that gives you cool powers.”
I fell silent as I thought about the idea of tattoos that gave you awesome shadow-powers. I’d heard of stranger things, and I had to admit it sounded cool. Not to mention badass.
It was almost evening when we left the bar and we worked our way through the crowds of ponies who had emerged to buy and sell goods in the outer district’s Night Market. Every night vendor would set up stalls in the outer business district to sell whatever wares they had. Haggling prices was a must, and you could buy almost anything at the night market; from various fried foods sold by food vendors, to supplies, trinkets, Saddle Arabian rugs, gems, and more.
I almost ran straight into Gladiolus as he stopped right in the middle of the sea of ponies going from stall to stall. “Hold on a second” he said, motioning for me to stay put. He raised his nose and sniffed the air a few times, searching for something. After a few seconds of looking in different directions he settled on one and pulled me behind him. He spoke as he pulled me through the crowd. “Stay close to me, and don’t make any sudden moves or noises.” I just followed him, bewildered.
We ended up in a small alleyway that was hidden between a pottery stall and an antiques stall. Gladiolus was on his guard as he approached a rusty dumpster near the back of the alley. It sat tilted to the side because one of its wheels was missing, and several cockroaches skittered out from underneath the dumpster into a drain between my hooves. Gross. At least the incense stall across the way was helping to make things smell a little better. There was the sound of something rummaging through the interior of the dumpster as well as some odd kind of…singing?
Oh Grodger is a rummaging, rummaging, rummaging
Grodger is a rummaging through a pile of trash
What will he find? Well he has no idea!
Hopefully a tasty little snack!
“Oh Luna preserve me…” I heard Gladiolus mutter under his breath. He stood right in front of the dumpster and yelled with surprising volume. “Grodger! Get on out here!” There was a startled “Gah!” followed by the scratching of small claws as a little thing crawled out from the metal box. It was something that I had never seen before in my life.
The little creature was maybe two and a half feet tall and covered in little green scales. The scales might have been shiny once, but years of digging around in piles of trash and had dulled whatever sheen those scales might once have possessed. The result was a mottled texture not unlike a garbage heap. It stood upright and its stumpy little tail swished back and forth nervously. It held claw-fulls of assorted junk and it looked like various pieces of trash had also collected on his body. A moment later I realized that various dirty bags and pieces of trash had been stitched together into a crude form of clothing.
I stared at the strange creature, and it stared back at me with surprisingly large, and surprisingly inquisitive eyes. “What in Celestia’s name is that?” I asked Gladiolus.
“His name is Grodger, he’s a scrounge-goblin” Gladiolus explained. “They’re foragers by nature; digging around in trash for things that catch their eye and for the most part staying hidden from ponyfolk. They’re pretty harmless. Most of the time. Although sometimes they stumble across things they shouldn’t. Right, Grodger?”
The little goblin replied indignantly in a strangely scratchy voice. “Mister G! Grodger has no idea what Mister G is talking about! Grodger has been a good little hobgoblin since the last time he met Mister G! Grodger is wounded by your wild accusations.” He looked up tearfully at us, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight twinge in my heart at the sight.
“You and I both know that’s not true Grodger. Now, where is it?”
“Where is what, Mister G? All I have is this” He displayed his hoofful (or rather clawful) of trash with poorly-feigned innocence.
“You know what! I can smell it on you, now take it out!” he said, his tone verging on annoyance. Gladiolus’ volume caused the goblin to let out a high-pitched “Eeep!” and Grodger pulled out a small straw figure of a pony from his makeshift tunic. He looked down at his feet and presented the strange figurine to the cloaked warden. Gladiolus inspected it closely before speaking. “Now Grodger, what are you doing carrying around a class two Dark Artifact in your dirty little pockets? It looks like voodoo magic too. You weren’t thinking of using it on somepony, were you?”
“No! Never! The thought hadn’t even contemplated crossing Grodger’s mind! Grodger was going to trade it for a nice warm carpet to put in my hidey-hole! Honest!”
“What have I told you about finding magical artifacts? You need to take them straight to the Night Wardens at Canterlot Castle! You know what, I’ll make you a deal. You’ll get a whole bag of rock candy for every artifact you turn into the wardens at Canterlot Castle.”
At this the little creature’s eyes grew as wide as saucers and he began drooling copiously. “A whole bag? All for Grodger?” he said, obviously enthralled by the prospect. “It’s a deal Mister G!”
“Good. Now, I don’t want to find you holding onto another one of these, got it?”
“You won’t, Mister G!”
“Now go back to whatever hole you came from.” With that, the little hobgoblin scurried
off and disappeared down a ponyhole in the street, startling some market goers in the process.
“Rock candy? Really?” I asked dubiously.
“Oh yeah, hobgoblins love the stuff; they can’t get enough of it. It’s a good bargaining chip if you’re ever in a situation where you need to barter with them. Anyways, I need to take this back to Princess Luna. You can wander around for a bit if you want—I’ll find you when I get back. Just stay out of trouble okay?”
“Okay. I promise I won’t start any fights or try running away. I’ll try to remember that thing about rock candy too” I replied.
“Good. See you in a bit then.”
Gladiolus disappeared into the shadows and I was left alone in an alley for the second time in two days. It had gotten pretty late and I was exhausted from this long and insane day. My body needed rest, but there was something else I wanted to do first, and in order to do it I needed to get back to my hideout. My only problem on that count was that I didn’t know how to get there from this part of Canterlot.
The city of Canterlot truly was a maze, and especially at street level one could easily get lost. To give you a little bit of background; Canterlot was founded soon after the banishment of Nightmare Moon. The old castle located in what would become the Everfree Forest was abandoned for a new one on Canterlot Mountain, most likely to leave the pain of the past and Princess Luna’s fall behind. The castle was built first, and in time the city of Canterlot flourished around it.
At first it was an orderly growth with straight rows of tree-line streets, but as the population increased and space became scarcer the growth of Canterlot became wilder. As the city grew outwards straight and orderly streets became twisted and intertwined with each other and buildings grew taller and narrower; all for the sake of finding more space in the prosperous city. If you happened to wander into an unfamiliar portion of the lower city and did not know how to find your way out, an hour long trip for groceries could end up taking the remainder of the day. A pony going missing only to turn up a day or so later because of a few wrong turns wasn’t entirely unheard of.
Fortunately, finding my way through places like Canterlot is kind of my talent. As I trotted away from the night market I put my hooves on autopilot and followed them as they led me to where I needed to go. Sure enough, I soon found myself in front of the gates of the now defunct fabric factory. Home sweet home.
After a quick visit to the manager’s safe up in my office-turned-hangout to get a few things I was back outside, and this time I knew exactly where I was headed: the place where I grew up.
The moon hung high in the sky by the time I arrived; it had to have been at least one or two in the morning. Across from me was my destination—a humble two story building. A small bakery was located on the first floor while the rest of the rooms were on the floor above.
A pale beam of moonlight reflected off of one of the building’s darkened windows as I stepped towards its entrance. I stopped right before the front door.
That old wooden door with its chipped white paint and dented brass doorknob just held too many memories; memories of a happier time that I would only be able to visit fleetingly in my dreams. Something in me felt that I hadn’t yet regained the right to walk through that door, especially after how I had left through it only three years before. That seems like a lifetime ago now…
I used one of the upstairs windows instead. The one of the floorboards creaked under my hoof as I entered through the window. I froze for a second, but the sound of heavy snoring that drifted down the hall reassured me. I made my way to that room and opened the door gently. I had to stifle a small laugh at the sight of my mom sprawled on the bed snoring her head off. I guess some things don’t change. I walked over to the night stand by the side of the bed and set down two bags of bits: the one Gladiolus had given me and the one I had been saving in my safe. Before I climbed through the window I had resolved to just leave the bits and go, but as I stood there next to the sleeping form of my mother words began tumbling out of my mouth almost against my will.
“Hey mom, its been a while hasn’t it? Look, I’m sorry I argued when I left and I’m sorry I said some of the things that I did, but I think we both know that I’m not exactly cut out to be a baker for the rest of my life like you wanted me to be. I wish we had this talk sooner, but we can hardly go back and change the past. I did pretty well off by myself, believe it or not. I managed to save up a lot of bits too. I guess this is kind of an apology. I know that it’s not quite enough, but I hope that it helps all the same. I’m sorry, mom. I know I messed up and it seems like I keep messing up, but now I’m trying to clean up my mess. It looks like I’m even going to get paid for it. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I’ll do my best to make you proud.” I wiped away a few rebellious tears that threatened to trickle down my face. My mom had slept through the whole thing.
I didn’t feel ready enough to have an open conversation with her just yet, but it did feel nice to get all of that off my chest. I opened the bedroom window and gave one look back at my mom’s snoring, wide open mouth and a small strand of drool connecting it to the pillow. A moment later I was through the window and back on the street where Gladiolus was waiting for me on the corner. I looked back one last time as I walked down the street with Gladiolus and for a split second I saw a pair of eyes looking back through the second story window.
Gladiolus spoke up as the evening mist gathered around us. “Did you finish what you needed to do?” he said, giving me a curious look
“Yeah, I did” I replied. “So, what do we do now?”
“Now? Well first you go get some sleep. You look exhausted.” He was right, I was completely exhausted. I was used to staying up late often, but after all of the excitement in the last few days my head was longing for the soft embrace of a nice, fluffy pillow. Before I could lose myself in dreams of the comforts of my bed, Gladiolus continued talking.
“Meet me at the train station bright and early tomorrow. Around seven o’clock should be good. Don’t be late.”
“Seven o’clock? That’s less than four hours from now!” I replied indignantly.
“Then you should hurry up and get some rest. Oh, and don’t forget to bring some donuts and coffee too!” he said with his trademarked cheeky grin. Its charm was beginning to significantly lose its luster.
I growled and made to lunge for him, but he just laughed and easily dodged out of the way. Sleep deprivation makes moving quickly annoyingly difficult. “Oh, you should also bring some traveling supplies with the donuts,” he added.
“Why? Are we going somewhere?”
“Yup! Tomorrow we’ll be headed to Ponyville!”
Author's Note
Up next: Chapter 3 - A Town Called Ponyville
