My Final Confession: Relapse

The streets of Canterlot are stained red in the late evening and many ponies bustle about their business unconcerned by the duo walking amongst them. The camera hovers and Cozy chuckles playfully as the lens sweeps across the cobbled streets and businesses before coming to rest on the grimacing Pinkamena. “Cozy, come on. We’re trying to be inconspicuous and you’re just whizzing around with a camera.”

“It’s fine. Nobody knows anything. They are too busy with their own lives. Plus, we look really cute so I doubt anybody would think we are who we are.”

Pinkamena’s mane is tucked up under a wide beige hat. A long quail feather pokes from a turquoise band at the base of the hat. The brim is buttoned up on one side while the rest is pulled down, concealing much of the mare’s visage behind a curtain of shadow. She is sporting a filly scout leader ensemble made by Rarity. Sticking with the olive and beige theme, it fits loosely around her lithe frame. Upon the chest are a multitude of badges representing different skills acquired. The trim and belt are both turquoise and shimmer with a pearlescent lavender tone when the dying sun catches them. The glimmering belt has a set of travel packs conveniently covering the shredded flanks where her cutie marks used to be.

“Cute? I don’t think we'd pass as cute,” she grumps.

“Well, too bad. We are cute as can be.” The camera pans down and Cozy’s hooves tap out a little dance on the pavement. A filly scout uniform wraps her small frame in olive and turquoise. There are far less badges on her breast than Pinkamena’s.

“Why are you so happy? Shouldn’t you be scared? Nervous at least?” Pinkamena eyes the camera bitterly.

“Nope. Tonight we take over. I can’t wait! No more running! No more hiding! Warm baths … oh they will feel so good. We’ll have servants pamper us and we’ll finally have a little luxury.”

“And Twilight’s blood on your hooves?” Her tone is pointed.

“Yep!” Cozy answers matter-of-factly and continues to hop and prance down the street.

Pinkamena goes silent as they come upon heavier traffic. Waves of ponies come and go, various storefronts pass until the pair are clear enough to speak again. Pinkamena keeps her hat low and tilts her head towards the ground, checking the saddlebags on her flanks now and again. Once the population density has dissipated, Pinkamena continues their conversation. “Just like that? Just kill her without remorse and go jump in a bubble bath?”

“One fit for a queen. Or an Empress.” A sinister chuckle escapes the pegasus filly.

“I had hoped you would feel an ounce of regret for what we are planning, honey,” Pinkamena chides.

“Why? Did she regret what she did to either of us? Does she deserve anything more than a swift death? When I get the crown, I’m going to mount her body above the …”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that! Have you not learned a thing? Do you not … see what my life has become? I don’t want this for you.” Pinkamena is breathless and agitated. Tiny, jerking motions bely her ease. “I know it’s hard to let go of your dreams, Cozy, but sometimes, the best thing you can do is know when those dreams are hurting you.”

A crier for a newspaper stands on a busy corner, a pile of newspapers lay in a cart near him. “Ponyville menace returns! Pinkamena Diane Pie sighted in Sugar Cube Corner! Royal Guard dispatched to search the town!” Pinkamena dips her head as they pass, the crier appears right beside the mare. “Paper, Miss? Only 2 bits!”

Pinkamena shakes her head in the negative and the crier pauses, a look of curiosity taking hold in his features as he looms closer. Shirking away, Pinkamena’s lips begin to turn up into a smile.

“I’ll take one, young’un! I lived through that monster’s reign of terror once. I bet it’s not her. She’s been dead for years.” An unseen but elderly sounding pony catches the attention of the crier who turns away with a smile. The clinking of bits into a metallic box rattle.

“Thank you, sir!”

Cozy and Pinkamena move quickly, putting distance between themselves and the crowds. “You hypocrite. What about you? Do you want to just run away or something? Suddenly you are getting cold hooves? I know what I want and that’s the crown. That and for you to stay with me. You can be my advisor. If that means Twilight has to die, then I don’t care.” Cozy sounds cute and bubbly as she speaks and Pinkamena shakes her head in reply.

“Taking a life … even one of someone who has done you harm will put you on a road that you will never return from.” A drop of blood rolls down her lip from the familiar place that Pinkamena bites. “Not that it matters, though. It’s too late and I don’t think there’s another way.”

“Being cryptic again?" Cozy rolls her eyes. "So instead we steal the crown … and?”

“Turn her to stone, like you suggested before. It’s fitting and poetic. You would retain some mote of your innocence.” Another group of ponies filter by and the sun has lowered a bit more as shades of purple creep into the city.

“I’m not innocent. And neither are you. What if things don’t go according to plan? What if we have to fight her?” Cozy grumbles and the camera lifts to see the castle in the distance.

“We probably won’t survive, but if we do … let me be the one to do it. I will take that burden and put it with all the others. Maybe it will be the one that puts me over the edge.” Pinkamena looks away and goes silent, whether with guilt or frustration is unknown.

“You’re so dramatic … like a teenager.”

The camera cuts on and off. Each time the castle looms closer until the giant entrance doors fill the frame and a member of the royal guard watches the pair approach.

"Okay, honey. Remember the plan ..." Pinkamena whispers.

The face of a guard looks down into the camera. Night has fallen but it’s the dim blue of a new night’s birth. A confused look rests in his eyes as he steps between the entrance and the pair. “Castle’s closed. Tours will resume tomorrow morning. Please return to your homes.” The guard is burly and strong. His white coat and green mane are well groomed and clean, his armor shined to a reflective gleam.

“Scoutmaster?” Cozy asks with a streak of pain as the camera turns to Pinkamena, hat low and teeth hidden behind a warm, friendly, and closed smile. “Princess Twilight said we could visit the castle today, right?”

“Of … of course she did, sweetie.” Pinkamena answers, looking down to the camera so the hat hides her face. Her eyes are wide and wild, blue lights dance behind them that flash like lightning. “Kind sir, we are representing the 305th filly scouts out of Ponyville. We are dreadfully sorry for the late intrusion. We tried to catch the train earlier this morning but Ponyville … well ... “ she leans close to the guard and whispers something about a halt on transportation services due to recent events and motions to Cozy with a quick shake of her head.

The guard looks uncertainly to the pair and stammers, “Be … be that as it may I cannot let you …” Cozy begins to cry, the camera falls to the steps of the palace and sways back and forth to the wails of the child.

“Please Mr. Guard. I … I’ve always wanted to come to the castle. Scoutmaster? Do we really have to go home?” Cozy pouts, her lower lip thrust forward while crystalline tears form in her eyes.

“I … I can’t, young miss. It’s orders.”

“Sweetie, step over there for a moment so I can talk to the nice guard, okay?” Pinkamena pats Cozy’s scout hat and motion for her to step away. The pegasus does as she’s asked and wipes at her eyes, soft coos and whimpers escaping her.

“Mr. Guard, I’m sure you understand what is going on in Ponyville. Her mother and father abandoned her when she was young and she has been taken care of by her grandmother. We did have the princess’ permission to visit the castle today but, as I have explained, the trains only recently began running again.” Pinkamena never raises her head but her tone is soft and remorseful.

“I apologize for the situation of the filly but …”

“The mare that was attacked last night was her grandmother. That child heard her only relative taken by that monster. By Twilight’s grace nothing permanent was done to the kindly old mare, but I was asked to take her away from Ponyville until this crisis has been dealt with. Now, here she is: in a city she doesn’t know, still frightened by the events last night, and a ball of nerves. She's jumped at shadows all day. A young thing like her shouldn’t know that feeling. I hoped that we would still be able to visit the castle, give her some comfort in this trying time.” The guard looks to the crying Cozy and back to Pinkamena. “Please, sir. For the child. We won’t stay long. I promise we won’t stay long.”

The guard clears his throat and nods slightly. “Fine. I think one guide is still here. Little filly, what is your name?”

Cozy rubs her eyes “Clover Shine, sir.”

“Clover, I grant you and your scoutmaster permission to enter the castle. I’m sorry for the inconvenience and please remember that the guard will deal with the incident in Ponyville quickly.” The guard moves aside and Cozy runs up and hugs his massive hoof.

“Thank you, Mr. Guard. You’re such a nice pony.” Her small wings flutter happily.

“Thank you, sir.” Pinkamena nods softly, almost bowing to the guard. “Clover, collect your camera and let’s go inside.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The camera lifts and begins to hover again as the guard opens the door to the palace.

The palace opens into a large receiving hall rife with ornate inscriptions, statues, tapestries, and illustrations of equinity back to the dawn of time decorate the marble walls. The floors are highly polished and each step rattles off a loud tap that reverberates down to the far side, disturbing the pristine silence. A large central staircase of white and gold leads to a second floor and the audience chamber of the royalty. At the bottom of the staircase stands two guards at attention, another pair standing firmly in the entrances to the east and west wings of the castle. Though they do not move, their eyes are assuredly fixed upon the late arrivals. The door guard enters a door in the east wing and returns a few moments later.

"A tour guide will be with you shortly. Please enjoy yourselves." His hooves clack loudly as he comes to attention and then returns to his post outside, the heavy door shutting behind him.

Neither of the villains seem impressed with the raw splendor of the castle nor do they buckle under the visage of the guards. From a doorway to the east comes a short, caramel-colored mare wearing a golden uniform. Frustration passes through her features before being replaced by a genial smile. Her eyes are tired and a badge on her breast reads T. Surprise. She approaches the duo quickly. “Welcome to Canterlot castle. My name is Toffee Surprise. I was just informed of your visit and will be your tour guide. We are pleased to host you this evening and hope your experience will be a memorable one.”

Pinkamena bobs her head and Cozy does her best curtsy. “Thank you, Toffee. We do apologize for the late intrusion and the extra work we are asking of you.”

“It’s my pleasure to stay late this evening. It’s not like I had a date I’ve been looking forward to or anything.” Her smile twitches at the corners of her mouth. “If you’d please step this way we can begin the tour. It usually takes an hour but due to the small size of this group, I’m certain we can cut it down to half an hour.”

A short chuckle escapes Pinkamena, “Yes, I’m sure it won’t take as long as normal.”

“I’m just so excited to be here, Miss Surprise. Thank you for showing us around!” Cozy is a ball of excitement. “Do you think we will get to meet Princess Twilight?”

The guide’s smile has locked in place but a vein bulges in her forehead momentarily. “I’m sorry but the princess has adjourned her activities for the evening and has retired to the royal chambers. Even our normally scheduled tours rarely get to see her.”

“That’s okay,” Cozy beams, “I bet we’ll see her sometime soon.”

“Well, if you will both please follow me … this is the entrance hall. The murals you see …” Toffee begins her practiced spiel and the pair fall in line, acting the part of the tourist. Pinkamena keeps her scout hat low and Cozy’s tell-tale locks are imprisoned beneath her own diminutive cap. The camera zooms occasionally on what the guide is explaining but much of the video is searching, watching the behavior of the guards nearby, or peering into darkened hallways.

The guide ushers the pair quickly from exhibit to exhibit and room to room. Her countenance is practiced and measured to allow the minimum time between rooms. Cozy and Pinkamena pretend to enjoy their tour and thank the guide repeatedly. Ballroom, audience hall, and many other beautiful rooms are presented for the duo and, soon enough, they are led back towards the entrance.

“Well,” Toffee concludes, “thank you once more for taking the guided tour of the castle and we hope that your visit to Canter …”

“I’m kind of hungry, scoutmaster,” Cozy says.

“It has been a while since we’ve eaten. Doesn’t the tour include a brief stop for refreshments, Toffee?” Pinkamena asks softly.

The vein in Toffee Surprise’s head pops out like a 3d picture. “Unfortunately, our kitchen staff has already gone home for the evening. All of our normal tour staff, except me, have already left.”

“Oh, we’re not fussy. Just a couple cookies. Maybe a box of juice or two. I’m sure something as simple as that would do fine,” Pinkamena grins to herself and the camera zooms in on the pumping vein and twitching smile of the guide.

“Why, of course. I’m sure I can find something QUICK for our guests. If you would please follow me to the kitchen.”

The kitchen was larger than the others we have seen by a large degree. One enormous room, much of the center was empty but several prep tables, retarders, and sinks line the walls. Pinkamena looks over a selection of kitchen knives mounted to a wall via magnetic strips. There are at least a dozen glimmering blades curved in all manner of ways for their various uses. “Wow, look at that, Miss P … scoutmaster.”

Cozy gestures towards an industrial brick oven and Pinkamena pauses at the sight of it. It is highly decorated but also practical in all of its glory. The door is larger than a pony and the room must have been built around the giant oven to accommodate its size. There is a smaller door to the side, built into the wall, that houses kindling for the massive oven and it is well stocked with fine beech wood logs split into triangular hunks. Scrutinizing the details, Pinkamena is fascinated by the cooking dispensary. “It’s beautiful. Probably the best I’ve ever seen.” She inspects the brick and mortar work and she appears genuinely impressed by the structure. “Better than anything I’ve ever used. And far larger. You could make thirty pies inside, I bet.”

“Yes, well, this is the castle after all and not some backwoods, podunk bakery. If you two would wait here, I will find some refreshments.” Toffee rolls her eyes and disappears into an adjoining room.

“Okay, Cozy. Let’s get the sleeping powder unpacked. When she comes back, we’ll put her out first and then the rest.” The camera zooms in on Pinkamena as she begins to unbuckle the packs on her flanks, the ruined hide of her flanks like melted plastic glistening under the electric light.

“I’ve done good, right? My plan was good, right?” Cozy joins the elder mare and unscrews the top to the mason jar containing the cream-colored powder.

“You’re a natural actress, my love.” Pinkamena lays a hoof over Cozy’s. “Here, let’s take the antidote first. Just in case.” Producing the small vial of green liquid, Pinkamena pops the cork from its mouth and swigs about half of it in one go before handing it to the pegasus. Cozy dumps the remains of the glass vial into her mouth and gags instantly. She fusses and struggles but manages to swallow.

“Oh … that’s awful. I might throw up.” Cozy wretches.

“It’s not that bad. Stop being dramatic. Get some of that powder ready. I’ll lead, you hit her right in the face, okay?” Casting eyes back towards the door, Pinkamena hurries Cozy along and screws the lid tightly before replacing it in her pack.

“Roger, admiral.” Cozy salutes off the top of the camera.

Toffee’s rump comes through the door and the rest follows after with a tray of cheeses, crackers, and juice boxes. Her smile is as fake as ever as she beams to the pair. “Here they are. They are not as fancy as what we would usually serve but I’m sure you won’t notice.”

Pinkamena steps forward to help, her tones soft and gentle despite the mocking. “Oh what a lovely platter. Let me take that from you and we can all share this wonderful snack. You’ve really been too kind to us and I’m certain you must be hungry.”

“A little. I would have eaten already if I had not stayed ... and I skipped lunch today. Maybe just a slice of brie or gruyere until I can get something more satiating.” The tray slips from her grasp to that of Pinkamena’s. Taking no time to dawdle, Cozy tosses the dust and it clouds around Toffee Surprise’s face. She snorts and coughs, staggering back. She makes an attempt to speak but sinks to the tiled floor in a heap of snoring splendor.

“We need to get this oven going.” Pinkamena places the tray on a prep station and Cozy quickly snags a couple pieces of cheese and stuffs them into her mouth. Tossing the hat and tugging away the scoutmaster uniform, Pinkamena pauses and eyes Cozy.

"What? I’m hungry! She brought it for us, after all.” Cozy places the camera on the prep station and the field of view changes. Most of the giant room is centered in the frame as well as the doorless opening from the hall. To the left of the frame is the enormous brick oven. Pinkamena pulls the heavy door to the oven open with a grunt. Cozy swallows more than chews her food while the magenta mare begins stuffing chunks of kindling into the oven.

“Sip some juice, too. If things go wrong it might be better to have a full stomach when you are turned to stone. Then again, eating like that may give you a permanent tummy ache.” Load after load of wood enters the oven from the elder mare.

“That’s not going to happen this time. We’ll do it. That or I’ll make Twilight kill me. I’d rather be dead than petrified again.” Cozy snatches the juice and greedily sucks it down, pulverizing the carton with suction. She tosses the empty pack back onto the tray, pulls the scout uniform off, and dashes to help Pinkamena.

The duo fill the oven over the next few minutes. Cozy crawls inside, soot smearing her pastel coat and bright blue curls, to place the logs into appropriate positions. They are both breathing hard from the effort as Pinkamena places a bundle of papers and easily combustible material into the mouth of the oven. She finds some matches nearby and hands them to Cozy who disappears into the oven and lights the fire.

“I … don’t … see how … starting a fire … is going to help.” Cozy pants, concentrating on getting her breath back as she pops from the oven, a warm glow already embracing her small body.

Pinkamena watches the growing embers until satisfaction and then shuts the iron door and locks it into place as the flames catch. “The sleeping powder is more potent when it is forced into a chemical reaction. That’s what Zecora told me.”

“Oh … so are there chemicals in there? I didn’t see anything but wood.”

“Fire is a chemical reaction, sweetie. We’ll get the fire going, toss in the jar of powder, and wait for it to take effect.” Pinkamena pulls Cozy to her and kisses her head.

“Oh, okay, but won’t the smoke go up the chimney?” Cozy looks skeptically to the earth pony.

“We’ll close the flue and open the door. The smoke will have nowhere to go but into the castle. It should knock out anyone who smells it. I think so, at least.” Pinkamena bites her lip.

“I hope it works.” Cozy cuddles Pinkamena’s shoulder and neck.

“Me too.”

Cozy moves to the kitchen entrance and listens for guards. Pinkamena pays close attention to the fire growing inside the oven. After a few minutes, she opens the door and throws the jar inside. The glass breaks and a series of tiny, bright miniature explosions snap, crackle, and pop out of the mouth of the oven. Pinkamena ducks and Cozy runs to get a look.

“Wow! It’s like a fireworks show in there!” Cozy giggles and claps her hooves together while Pinkamena pulls a lever that closes the flue, blocking the smoke from exiting out of the normal means. Just as she had said, a billowing caramel-brown fog erupts from the oven and fills the kitchen before flowing out of the doorway and into the hall that led the pair into the kitchen.

Pinkamena and Cozy begin coughing and drop to the floor where there’s still clean air. The oven crackles and snaps like forest twigs tread upon by a many-legged, clumsy beast. Smoke pours like cake batter from the oven and a few cries of help go up before being rent in half by chemically-aided slumber from the hallway. The duo chuckles to themselves and stay prone on the white-tiled floor until the preternatural smoke returns to a normal, black wood smoke. Pinkamena hops to her hooves, rushes to the flue lever, and flips it back up. The smoke ceases to roll from the open-gate of the oven and what remains in the kitchen dilutes.

The pair are both very still, ears pinging like radar dishes but the only sound is that of the fire in the brick oven. “I … I think they’re all asleep, Cozy,” Pinkamena says and smiles to her cohort. The silence in the castle is palpable and the two continue to wait, a few playful chuckles escape them.

Cozy cheers and flaps her wings triumphantly. “Then we only have to find Twilight and …”

Sharp, deliberate hooves echo on the tile from the hallway outside and the earth pony and pegasus turn quickly to face the door. The hoofsteps are heavy and quick as they approach, much heavier than that of a typical guard. The pair look to one another knowingly; it can only be the sound of an adult alicorn.