Eye of the Trickster: The Glorious Deception

by OBXSuperindustries

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Other, Original Character, Tragedy
Length: 18516

A Cosplaying Human, after a short tussle with a rather strange object, is sent to Equestria.

Graham was normal, until a strange and terrible happenstance left him crippled and alone in an Alien world.

As strange and dire as his situation might be, he must come to terms with this new yet familiar place. The only way he can.

Published 2014-02-28 10:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-23 01:49:56 UTC

Prologue

Eye of the Trickster

“C’mon Graham, or we’ll miss the fucking train!!!”

“Coming!” I shouted in response, grabbing my prop mechanical bow. I rushed down the hallway, feeling pumped as shit! This Super-Noa was gonna be fucking awesome. I stopped just before going round the corner. Lifting my leather hood over my head, I assumed a more menacing posture before walking cautiously around the corner.

Winslow, my friend, could only smirk. This was amazing.

“Dude, Its fucking perfect. You fucking nailed this costume!” He exclaimed, looking a bit sad. He always put his own costumes down, but they were always on par, if not better than mine every year. Every year except this!

“Well, I did pump alot of fucking money into this one this time. Not- saying you didn’t work on yours.” I said, rubbing the back of my hooded head, a sheepish grin under my face-mask. Winslow had decided to go as Yasuo from League Of Legends. As much as he lamented what he thought was poor quality, Winslow had nailed it too.

Winslow sighed then shrugged, “Eh, I guess I have to lose sometimes. Besides, that costume won’t be worth shit if you forget your contact lens…” He grinned cheekily as I realised that my Master Thief was missing the centre-piece to the entire fucking costume.

“Shit! Hold my bow-” I yelled as I chucked the prop carelessly at Winslow, running back up the hall to my room.

Winslow and I had been living together for a few months now. We both met during our first year of AIE, and we clicked instantly. And due to some less than favorable happenstances, agreed to move into a flat together with another friend from AIE. Though Kyle didn’t follow the crowd that was Super-Nova.

I tore into my cluttered room, clothes trodden underfoot. I grabbed the wooden box from my chest-of-draws and made for the nearest mirror.

I stopped himself, taking half a second to examine my SICK AS FUCK cosplay before I swifty, yet gingerly opened the small box.

Suspended in a small amount of water was my final component. A contact lense, bluish in colour, with a few extra details on the surface. The finish left the lense looking almost exactly the same as Garretts eye from the Game. Its intricate patterns, and painted metal lense for the pupil. The thing was beautiful, and was by far the most expensive part of this costume. I had bought it on sale from an online store. The place mostly dealt in Wiccan supplies, but they had a few cosmetic items as well. The 'Half-off' weekend, plus the random “Free shipping” coupon I had randomly received in the mail, which incidentally led me to the site, made it a surefire buy. I could have sworn the thing was moving as I hastily removed it from its packaging.

I quickly looked into the mirror, lifting my vision upwards as I removed my normal contact from my right eye. I put the regular contact into the same container as the new lense, and carefully used one finger to fish the new one out. I swiveled my eyeballs before expertly placing the new contact over my eye, blinking a few times before checking in the mirror. I had done this before, many times.

Astonishingly , the patterned contact obscured my vision none. I could see as clearly as before, if not better. Which I thought was odd... But I had no time to think about that. We had to race for the train.

****

“And thats why Yasuo still needs a nerf. They balanced out his defensive stats to no end, but he is just way too mobile.”

I groaned. I hated these conversations with Winslow. Sure, I liked League Of Legends just as much as the last guy, but I never liked the forced debates with Winslow. Winslow was as average as one could expect as a LoL player, and this meant he always thought he was right.

“I’m not disagreeing, I’m just saying that CC shuts him down easy.” I lamented. I had received a headache after a while on the train, and I really wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Just, can we be quiet for a little while. I think i’m getting motion sickness.”

Winslow heaved in preparation for his retort, but thought better. “Alright dude... Do you wana swap directions? Might be easier since we’re facing the wrong way."

I nodded, so we quickly got up, pulling the swappable chairs across to the correct direction, and sitting back down. The Train was pulling into Blacktown station, as our cabin was graced by more cosplayers headed for Super-Nova. There were a few respectable costumes, none coming close to ours. But most of the riff-raff were Bronies.

The throng of people invaded our car, the train now becoming quite congested. There weren’t too many ‘Proper’ cosplayers, just people with fan T-shirts and hats for the most part. Though the group of Bronies that moved past seemed to be a collective. They all joked amongst one another as they slowly made their way into the train.

Most of the other Super-Nova patrons gawked at us as they past, some pulling out phones to take pictures, or just asking to shake our hands. Even some of the Common Train-fare complimented our costumes as they passed, asking if we were going to Super-Nova.

Finally, as the people passed and the train began to move again, Winslow sighed.

“Why are Bronies so goddam spaghetti all the time.” He jeered quietly as he used his hands to make a pretend Spaghetti-Neckbeard. I giggled in agreement, though truth be told, we didn’t ‘hate’ bronies. We just enjoyed the “Spaghetti threads” from the internet.

I cringed after laughing, my head pulsing with pain. I held a hand over one eye, quickly reminding myself not to rub at my eyes. I groaned again in pain, the sensation of 'internal blendering' surging to my eyes. The rabble from the train seemed to rise as the garble of combined talk from the other passengers seemed to wash over me in a wave of nausea. Winslow looked at me with concern.

‘Dude, is the contact messing with your head?” He asked. I clicked, realising that that was probably the cause. I reached down to my pocket, and groaned again as I realised my mistake.

“I left the fucking carry-case at home. Son of a bitch!” I smacked myself on the forehead, kicking myself in the shins mentally for doing something so foolish.

Winslow shook his head in disapproval. His condescending actions made me grin, as I playfully punched him on the shoulder. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about Contact Lenses you perfect-eyed fagget.” He grinned back, punching me on the arm as well.

“All I need is some quiet.” I said calmly, closing my eyes as I reached down for the item that I did have in my pocket. I produced my ear buds, gingerly untangling them as I maintained closed eyes.

“How is that going to help?” Winslow asked, as I kept on unraveling the ear buds.

“Easy. Im not going to play music. This will just block out most of the sound from the Train. All I need to do is close my eyes and let them settle for the rest of the trip, we’ve got a few more minutes before we have to get off.”

Winslow gave an approving grunt, acknowledging my refusal to open my eyes. I popped both the in-ear buds into my ears and let the quiet rush from my ears overtake the rabble. I slowed down my breathing, feeling the cool air of the air-conditioned cabin enter my lungs. I focused on relaxing, letting my brain fix whatever grievances it had with the movement of my person in space.

Slowly the pulsating waves of pain stopped their surge, the pain now only a dull throb. I sighed finally letting my breathing resume its normal pace. I felt a small sting in my left eye, lifting a small finger to carefully scratch at the corner. The itching pain spiked, then went away. I knew that me leaving the carry-case at home was bad, and swore by the Old Gods, and the New, to never forget again.

“Hey…” said Winslow to my right.

I pulled out my right ear bud, waiting for him to say something... then growing slightly annoyed that he had tricked me.

I opened my eyes, and gave him a menacing glare. He was looking away as if nothing had happened. I quickly tapped him on the shoulder, waiting for him to look before I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?..” he returned my confused glare as I rolled my eyes.

“Stop being a turd.” I said nonchalantly. Winslow now looked agitated.

“I didn’t say shit, mate.” he remarked, returning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes again, returning the ear-bud and closing my eyes again.

“Where are we?...”

I opened my eyes, glancing out the window. I waited for a few landmarks, before I worked out where we were.

“Almost at Parramatta…”

“...What? No we’ve passed Parramatta already. We’re nearly at Granville dude.”

This is where I got pissed off. He was playing more tricks on me. I would have played along, but we both knew I had a headache, and no patience.

“Well if you know where we are, why the fuck did you ask?!”

His look of shock was not amusing, I glared at him, trying to get across the message that I was being fucking serious. There was a long pause while he continued to just gawk at me…

“What the fuck are you looking at?...”

“Dude… your fucking eye… Its…”

What! What was happening? What was he talking about? I lifted a hand up to my face, checking gingerly with a single finger. My eye was fine. There was no pain, and there certainly wasn’t anything amiss-

“What the fuck….”

I could see it now, the dull shine on my finger. It faded away as I moved my hand further away from my eye. Like an LED light, but coming from…

“What the fuck is going on with this contact?!?”

“Dude, I don’t know, but… ITS FUCKING COOL. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU COULD GET ELECTRONIC CONTACTS?!?!?”

Winslow kept rambling, but I was in shock. A million questions all at once. Where did I get this contact again? What was the name of that website… I don't remember- I DON’T REMEMBER!!! Contact lenses can’t glow, that technology doesn’t exist yet. Not for the price I paid. I- I need a mirror… “I NEED A MIRROR!!!”

Everyone on our floor of the train car stopped, and all turned their attention to me. I could feel the awkwardness and fear oozing in the air as the silent seconds ticked by. But I didn’t need this shit. I needed a fucking mirror.

“Does anyone have a Mirror- No, not a phone and camera!” I swatted my hand at the timid girl “Does anyone have a pocket mirror?”

A trembling old lady nearby slowly reached into her purse, and pulled out a powder case. She fearfully extended her reach across the aisle to me. I snatched it out of her hands, not caring as she squeaked in panic. I tore the case open, the brush dropping to the floor. The mirror was caked in powder, but that didn’t obscure my vision from my Contact Lense.

It. was. perfect... Straight out of Thief, The Dark Project; If with a bit more intricate detail. I could see the delicate Metal iris slowly twist and contract as I focused my eyes. And from the outer edges, I could see the unearthly glow. It was soft, almost subtle. But compared to a normal looking eye, you could tell for sure it was glowing.

But, this was not the contact I had put on this morning, something was…

I quickly removed the glove on my right hand, tossing the leather apparel apparel onto Winslows lap. I wiped my finger on my shirt, then slowly… I lifted my gaze upwards, expertly moving my finger up to my eye, hopefully endeavoring in removing this… thing Sitting on my eye.

Closer, and closer, till.

My finger was touching this eye. This eye that WASNT MINE.

I shifted my finger, but it didn’t hurt. Because this wasn’t my eye. I could see fine. My vision was flawless. BETTER infact. It felt as if I was wearing my prescription lense, cause I could focus on everything fine… but…

I could tell this was a Steam-Punk eye. I was hard. Not like a normal eye. A normal eye was hard, a muscley orb of compressed water and nerves. But... this was hard, like Metal hard. Hard like a spoon, hard like a glass. Hard like a proper solid object. And I couldn’t feel my finger on my eye. I could feel the eye with my finger, but… I could only feel the pressure of the finger pushing this eye back further into the socket. It was bizarre. So strange… I..

I picked up the brush, placing it carefully back inside the powder case. I snapped it shut, and returned it to the old lady, thanking her quietly. The noise of the cabin began to rise, the people whispering amongst themselves about what had just occurred. A few people got up to leave, either threatened or scared. I didn’t blame them, for I was scared the most. What was I supposed to do… Then it hit me!

“HAHHAHAHAHAHAAHahahahahahahahaaa” I began to laugh, slapping Winslow on the back. He looked confused… then irate… Then, slowly, his grin began to blossom. I pointed at him, as if ridiculing him. My eyes began to water as I forced myself to laugh. Truth be told, I wasn’t completely sure if I was forcing myself to laugh to defuse a very strange and VERY awkward circumstance, Or if I was laughing in circumvention of my inevitable breakdown into mental instability. I rode it well, and Winslow couldn’t believe what I had ‘pulled’. Little did he know, this was very fucking real, and he would never know.

“You’re a fucking dick-head mate. Holy shit! you had the entire fucking train convinced!” He exclaimed as he couldn’t help but laugh hysterically too. A few of the people nearby laughed too, If not seeing how funny the ‘prank’ was, laughing nervously because they had just avoided a very odd circumstance.

“Oi! Can you kids be quiet back there!” A Transit Officer had just come up to our level to see what the row was all about. Winslow and I suppressed our laughter, appologising to him. He rolled his eyes before going back down.

“Dude. I have no fucking idea why you’re at AIE. You could seriously be an actor. I mean, that was just a fucking prank. Imagine if you did this shit for a living!” Winslow laughed. I forced myself to laugh again. Pretending to be sheepish. But right now, my mind was a turmoil of What If’s! What if this was permanent. There certainly wasn’t a contact lense there anymore. There wasn’t even my fucking eye. It was the strangest feeling. Had someone… switched? Had someone switched my eye with a replica mechanical one while I was… I was fully conscious when I was meditating. My headache is completely gone though. What exactly could be done to achieve this? Its not like I just wouldn’t notice someone removing my eye and replacing it with a mechanical one. Especially considering I hadn’t even been left alone since I put the lense in this morning. Was I missing something? What on earth had I actually purchased from that confounded website-

“Dude, get up! We need to grab a Taxi!!”

I came to my senses. The Train had finally arrived at Central, and we had planned on grabbing a Taxi to the convention centre. I grabbed by Bow. Checked my quiver had the correct amount of replica Water-Arrows in it, and headed out. Dropping my wandering thoughts to my determination. Super-Nova was on the horizon, and I would not let any strange happenstance get in the way of that. Today was gonna be kick arse.

***

“Thank you very much, Mister Dinklage..” I awkwardly bowed, graciously taking the signed copy of Game of Thrones from Tyrion FUCKING LANNISTER. Peter Dinklage offered to shake my hand, and I held his hand firmly back, almost fainting from the excitement. A security guard ushered me to move away as I suppressed a squeal that would certainly compromise the validity of my gender. Nevermind the fucking manly persona that was Garrett of The City.

I joined Winslow and a few other friends waiting for me nearby, their signed copies of Game of Thrones and A Song Of Ice and Fire Novels being shown to each other. We had already met up with Reedy and James, Cosplaying as Geralt of Rivia and Kamina from Gurren Laggan respectively. Only just now did Holly and Sammy join our group. Sammy was something I didn’t recognise. Holly, however, had attended the convention in tandem with James, her Yoko costume out-matching almost everyone else for its sheer accuracy and detail. Especially since she had the body to pull it off, too. Her Costume put everyone's to shame. Everyone but me.

“Oh hey. Here he is! Graham! See? Look at his fucking cosplay! LOOK!”

Reedy had been fangasming ever since we met up. He could not believe how well I had done the costume. Luckily, no-one had noticed the glowing eye. And due to Winslows deliberate failure to point it out to the rest of our friends, I assumed he knew something else was going on. I replaced my Half-Balaclava, assuming my practiced walk and stance as they watched me approach.

“Oh wow, thats cool” exclaimed Sammy, her naturally ‘kawaii’ voice topping her Anime inspired costume off to perfection. Holly just glared in disbelief.

Since arriving, I received much praise for my costume. It seemed like every passer-by would just drop their jaw, many demanding a picture or video. Someone had thought my voice was so accurate to Garrett that they made me go somewhere quiet and make them a message-bank voice for their phone. I had been practicing my ‘Deadly Shadows’ voice all week, but I didn’t think it was that good.

“Dude you have to enter the Cosplay competition!” James exclaimed. “You would win for sure. I haven’t seen a costume yet as good as yours-” Holly elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to gasp in pain. We all laughed as he writhed about for a bit, waiting for the pain to subside. Holly looked me up and down, making it clear that she was jealous. Her and I never got on that well, but she clearly didn’t like being beaten.

“I think Holly’s is better though.” I interjected. Winslow and Reedy nodded in agreement. Holly relaxed a bit, and finally spoke.

“Thats a pretty cool contact though. Where did you buy it?” aked Holly.   ...I gulped. Though it was masked by my Balaclava. I was about to explain, but Winslow had my arse covered, confirming my suspicions about how much he suspected.

“He- had it made especially for the costume, cost him and arm and a leg though. Easily the most expensive accessory.” He folded his arms in a challenging manner that I didn’t like. Pushing Holly’s buttons often ended in disaster. Luckily for me, she took it well, smirking like a git.

“Well, good luck in the costume competition- ...IS THAT TYRION LANNISTER?!?!?” She fangirled out, grabbing Sammy’s hand and swinging her 1:1 scale prop of Yoko’s gun over her shoulder, dragging them both over to the start of the line. Sammy squealed in fright, but didnt resist. We laughed again.

“Im starving…”

“Me too lets get some Burgers or something!” I agreed… The four other guys just looked at me weird. Winslow looked concerned, though he held his stance. James and Reedy shared a look, but again Winslow came to the rescue.

“I saw a booth just before. Lets go, I’m starving too!” Fwew. I half realised that I was hearing things as we were in the Taxi on the way here. I was thinking about what had happened, trying to figure out how this could have happened. I hadn’t thought about it again, because nothing unusual had happened for the past few hours. Though I began to feel sick.

“I need to go to the toilet first. I’ll meet up with you in the food court!” the three nodded, Winslow looking a bit pale, his worry very much evident. He gave me a glance as we parted, but I gave him the thumbs up, brightening his mood a bit before splitting.

I raced to the toilets, my stomach churning with nausea. I knew what was coming, and had no time to walk. Bursting through the door, nearly knocking another guy on his arse, I stormed into the nearest free cubicle, tearing my balaclava down and wretched into the bowl.

I heard a few people in the place grimace and gag. But again I didn’t care. This wasn’t about them, they can go get fucked…

I realised how condescending I was being. I shook my head, moving to a basin and splashing my face with water. I looked at my reflection, examining the eye. A slow dribble of blood leaked from the corner of my eye socket. Oh fuck off, thats not good! I pulled up a small bit of cloth from my collar, dabbing at the bleeding. It seemed to not be openly flowing, but I needed to  see a Doctor about this asap.

“An what do you think the Doctor will do?!?!” said a Man behind me. I looked up into the mirror, seeing a dark figure looming over me. I shouted, turning on the spot, and raising a fist to defend myself. But… there was noone there…

I looked back at the mirror, but there was nothing…. A person walked into the bathroom, giving me a queer look before muttering something about ‘meth-heads’. He walked to the Urinal, and I decided to leave. This was no place to be, and I wanted Winslow to help me to get to a Hospital as soon as possible. I left and made my way to the food court.

Scanning the tables for my friends, I spotted them easy. Our friends had certainly outdone almost everyone else this year, making us stand out. As I approached, walked up to me, stopping me before the others noticed.

“Dude are you okay. You’ve got me worried sick. I think we need to get to a Hospital or something!" I nodded in agreement. He suddenly grabbed my face, pulling it closer to his as he went pale at seeing the blood.

“Mate, you’re fucking bleeding. We need to get out of here and….” His voice became muffled, and I could feel my mind begin to wane.

“I’m… fine…”  weakly muttered. I am NOT FUCKING FINE! My mind was racing at a million Kay’s an hour, but my body felt distant…

*SLAP*

“AHH FUCK…”  gasped, my senses being restored. Winslow had slapped me on the left side of my face, restoring a good portion of my composure. But I still could feel my knees buckling. Using my friend, I lowered myself to the ground.

“Please, call an ambulance…” I whispered, my voice hoarse from fright. What was happening to me. I could hear Winslow shout for someone to call an ambulance. The world became muffled again. I was barely aware of what was happening around me. I could just barely tell that my other friends had come to see what was happening. I could hear their muffeled voices, but had no hope in hell of discerning what they were talking about. Though considering I was sitting on the dirty food-court ground, dazed to the point of lethargy, I had a pretty good idea what their main topic was...

“You are so feeble. Why they sent me to you Is a mystery. Though… I can probably salvage this… With some difficulty…”

“Who are you” I said, my voice sounding normal despite my total lack of physical control. The world seemed to shudder, sharpening and going fuzzy in the matter of split seconds. I felt the hands of someone slowly pushing me down, letting me lie on my back.

“Why ask questions, when there are too many answers to be had. Oh joy, here they come now. This is going to be.. FUN!...”

Screams, ear-splitting screams from all around. Bringin me back to my senses. The world came back into focus, sharpening beyond its norm. I could feel control to my body being restored. Though this was odd… It sure had been a rather odd day. I was just over it, and wouldn’t tolerate anymore shit.

“GRAHAM, GET UP AND RUN!” I could feel Winslow tugging at my tunic, urging me to get up.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

“What, what the fuck is happening, Emmett-” Winslow just kept tugging at my shirt, and I obliged, my focus sharpening even more. The world seemed to go in slow motion, as my mind raced faster and faster. I risked a look over my shoulder, examining what I could see.

A large corps of men had invaded the convention centre, their automatic weapons spraying bullets into the screaming crowd as they descended into the throng of cosplayers. People fell down as they ran, bullets raining down. All the men had Full-Balaclavas, their formation indicating that this was very much planned. Terrorists were attacking Super-Nova. What the fuck for! WHY!

I sprung to action, pumping my legs faster than I thought I could. I overtook Winslow, grabbing his vest instead, and dragging his slow arse with me. We skidded past a corner, narrowly missing a volley from the terrorists. People screamed, running in all directions. I did not relinquish my grasp on his costume as I vaulted over a kiosk desk. Winslow flopped after me, as we climbed under the desk, pacing our breathing so we wouldn’t make too much noise.

The Terrorists did not relinquish, as we could still hear them walking across the food-court. Their Automatic weapons grew louder and louder as they advanced towards out position.

I could hear Winslow gasp in pain. I looked to him, as he clutched his shin. A bullet wound adorned his leg, slowly oozing blood. Just before he let out a moan, I covered up his mouth, bringing a finger up to my pursed lips as I could hear the Terrorists walking nearby.

He shuddered in pain, trying hard to slow his breathing. They continued to pass, their gunshots slowly sounding softer and softer. All around, sirens could be heard. Though they weren’t ordinary sirens. They were Natural Disaster sirens. Sydney seemed to roar in rage as the Terrorists continued their slaughter.

Emmett tore my hand from his mouth, shuddering again in pain. “What the fuck is going on man. Why the fuck are terrorists attacking.”

“Winslow… Emmett… We need to make a break for it. We need to get outside before they find us.”

“But, what if they see us…” Winslow choked up, his body going into shock as the adrenalin finally gave way. I placed my hand over his mouth again, begging him to keep quiet.

“We jumped into a kiosk near the goddam food court. They’ll definitely come looking here for stragglers. We just need to wait till we can only hear them from far away, then we’ll make a break for it.” I let go of his mouth as he shakily nodded. I grabbed a strip of cloth from my garment, tearing it into a strip. Then crawling on my stomach, I examined Winslow’s gunshot wound.

I was by no means an expert, but it looked like the round had gone clean through. I looked back at him, grabbing the hand he had grasped to his thigh. I held it firm, giving Winslow a serious look.

He realised what was coming, going quiet in preparation before nodding. I slowly lopped the cloth around his leg, making a loose knot. I looked at him, and began the count down.

“On Three, ready…. One Two-” I pulled the strip tight early, not letting him prepare himself. He hissed in pain, squeezing my hand till it hurt. I wasted no time, tying the knot quick before he could let out another sound.

Just before he moaned, I grabbed his mouth again. waiting for him to stop squirming. He slowly returned his breathing to a normal level, and we waited for the shots to become distant. I couldn’t tell for sure, but we laid there for a few more minutes.

“Alright dude, We have to go…” I slowly raised my head from underneath the desk. Bodies were scattered everywhere, blood pooled beneath most of them. I grimaced at the sight, but my mind still seemed too sharp, compared to how I was normally. I scanned around, checking for any wandering gunman. There were none, and the Convention Centre had grown eerily quiet, besides the cacophony of sirens and the shuddering of the Helicopters outside. But this had to be our break.

“Dude, we have to go now.” I said as I grabbed Winslow, hoisting him up by the shoulder. His lame leg meant that getting outside would be a challenge, not that this situation wasn’t already challenging. I hoisted myself over the desk, landing silently as I helped him get over the desk. He landed on his good leg, hopping around till I slung him over my shoulder. We quickly moved the way we had come, making a dash for the exit adjacent to the Food-court.

But, It was a mistake. We had half way crossed the court when we came to the table.

Our friends all lay there, their blood pooling from the gunshot wounds that had killed them. I could feel Winslow tense as he realised where we were too…

“We… we need to go… they’ll find us if we stay out in the open…”

Winslow just stared there, growing whiter and whiter….

I slowly glanced over each of their gored faces, blood spattering their forms. I noted each one till I noticed something.

“Where is Reedy…”

Something collided with my back, knocking me and Winslow forward, onto the ground. I gasped for air, the force of whatever hit us knocking the wind from me. I grimaced as I twisted onto my back.

The world seemed to flash, as everything went slow. The world wound down, as I examined what was before me. A Balaclava’d man, brandishing a Handgun, slowly approaching Winslow.

Thats when the voice returned, its hissing, taunting voice. Menacing. It knew what was about to happen, just as I had.

“I can help you, you know. Just say the word and I can stop all of this. We don’t have to watch your friend die.”

I could almost feel the time around me slowing down. And I knew that I could do nothing to save Winslow. The man raised his fire arm, aiming at Winslow’s head. Two clicks, and I was watching the bullets leave the gun, slowly advancing towards my friend.

I screamed in anger, terror. This was torture. I watched as the rounds hit their mark, killing Emmett dead. The man slowly approached me, his weapon still raised. My vision flickered, as I noticed the Dark hooded figure now standing behind the masked terrorist, The darkness from his hood seeming to suck the light from the world.

“Just ask me the question. Beg for you life. Let me claim my prize, and I’ll let you escape with you skin…”

Slowly now, as the man approached, He pulled the trigger, the bullets flowing from his gun, straight towards me. Slower and slower time flowed. I didn’t want to  die. This day was meant to be the highlight of my year. And I did NOT WANT TO DIE...

“Please, I don’t want to die!”

The world shuddered, faster and faster, the light seemed to flicker. The hooded figure shifting back and forth. Till, all I could hear and see where sound. Great Thunder claps as time seemed to tear apart. And with a great flash. I knew no more.

****

“Oh my goodness…. are you alright…”

I awoke with a great headache splitting my head in two. My head pounded as I returned to consciousness. The world was fuzzy, flickering in and out of focus as I slowly attempted to move my limbs. I raised an arm before my body realised how tired it was. I felt my arm fall, its short descent slowed by my displacement in time.

My vision kept focusing, and shuddering, showing me a looming figure. Her face was kind, her pale white features and gloaming hair rippled in the wind. but something was wrong. The face wasn’t human. It was of..

“Princess… Celestia?!”

I fainted away…..

The Castle Heist

“Oh princess! I wasn’t expecting you!” exclaimed the pony.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Chef Blitz. I was just checking in for a late dessert tonight. I have some company coming to the castle, and need a special dish made in celebration. I hope you’re fully stocked this evening?”

“Of course, Princess. We received a shipment of food today, and the pantry is completely full, as well as the reserves in the cellar. What do you need made for these?...”

“Its just one guest tonight. I expect he’ll be here shortly. This is a silly question, but could you know the recipe for Lemon Sugar Cake?”

There was some mutual laughter. I could hear them moving away from the entrance to the kitchen. This was going to be a long night.

As I hung here from the ceiling, I could only occupy my mind with silent thoughts. The occasional guard patrolled below. But if the princess was oblivious, there was no chance in Tatarus they would ever find me. I waited there for what must have been 10 minutes, lazily timing the one guard posted to patrol this corridor. It took him around 180 seconds to reach the end of the corridor and out of sight, and another 234 seconds to reappear at the other end. He must have been oblivious to his proximity to the Princess, because at every intersection, he levitated a flask hidden underneath his armor to his lips and took lazy swigs. I smirked. This castles security is a joke. They’re lucky I’m not an Assassin.

The corridors in Canterlot castle were quite exquisite. Though they had one vital security flaw, sacrificed for aesthetics. The large, rather tall corridors, if not properly lit, were easy to hide in. The windows shone moonlight down on the floor, while up above, in the darkness of the ceiling, one could hide quite easily if you had the correct tools. And after 8 years of my trade, this place was a sinch. It only took me two years before I settled in this strange, yet familiar land. becoming my home. Not entirely by choice mind you. But home was home.

I could hear the Princess and Chef approach the door. I lowered myself a little more, ready to take my prize. I was a Master Thief, and I would get what I had been paid to steal. Without anyone, even this god-like figure ever knowing.

I was a bit apprehensive about this job though. The item I had to steal was quite tricky, and a great deal riskier than normal. Though the money I was promised was well worth the risk.

Letting my hand slowly loosen, I lowered closer and closer towards the door to the kitchen. The warm light shone out, slightly killing my night vision. I glanced at the roof, making sure it wouldn’t be a problem. It was fine. It was always fine.

“Thank you for your time, Lemon Blitz. I hope I’m not being too much of a bother. especially at this time of night!”

“Please, your majesty. It is my honor to serve you. Any day of the night!”

“I’ll return to my quarters now. Have a nice night!”

“Thank you, and same to you Princess.”

The hoofsteps grew louder, and sure enough, the Great Horse stepped outside, her regality stunning, even to myself. Atop her head was my quarry. Glistening and shining, even in the dark.

She looked to her left, and her right, as if pondering something. I took this as my chance. I held my breath, letting the rope slip steadily between my limbs, still silent as ever. I reached out with both hands, my legs now taking the rope. Slowly… slowly… slo- OH SHIT

“Princess, I just have one last question!”

I scampered back up the rope, maintaining my noiselessness. I slipped away my dagger, and quickly assumed my ready position on the rope again. This is definitely going to be one long night.

She turned back into the room, leaving all but her rump exposed. They continued to chat, when I received an epiphany. Why not the tail hair? The contract didn’t specify which hair…

I tuned their chatter out, only really listening for when they might adjourn again. I lowered myself to stand just behind her, silent as ever. As I landed, her ears swiveled behind, but she didn’t move. I held my breath, waiting for her full attention to return to the rambling Chef. I quickly moved my fingers, gingerly separating a few of the ethereal threads from their companions, I lifted the dagger, and made a swift motion, separating the hairs. Perfect.

“Princess!...”

I looked up, and found the Chefs gaze meeting mine. He fearfully shivered, before a scowl adorned his face.

Oh fuck, He's going Manmode! Think fast!!!

I moved, as silent as ever. I juked him out, running to the side, as if fleeing down the corridor. As I went out of sight from the Chef, I scuffed my way up the wall, hanging myself above the door yet again. They would never know...

The Chef pushed past the Princess, his expression dire as he gawked at the corridor he had thought I escaped down. But there was no way any creature could move that quick and he knew it.

“I saw! I saw… I…” he shook his head, as if clearing spiderwebs from  his face. He just stood there in disbelief, while the Princess looked on in confusion.

“What?! What did you see?”

“A monster!… no.” He face-hoofed “I- I’m just a bit tired is all. Just a bit weary from today.” He sighed then laughed. The Princess giggled with him. If stealth wasn’t such a priority, I might have snuck a little giggle myself.

“Well, I hope you aren’t so weary for this task. If you need to wake some of the Kitchen hands, I’ll cover their wages for you.”

“No, no. Its no trouble at all, my Princess. Just a little tired. I might grab a Brandy though.”

They laughed heartily again, finally saying their proper goodbyes. The Chef returned to the kitchen, the sounds of pans and bowls being arranged indicated he was already getting to work. Though the Princess started heading back down the corridor. She lingered for a time, watching the moon outside the lavish windows. The guard finally came around the corner, startling himself as he realised who was standing there. He swiftly saluted, only returning to his patrol when she lazily acknowledged him, still watching the moon from where she stood.

It was a good five minutes before she left, the guard had startled himself the second time he had seen her still standing. Watching. Almost as if she was waiting for something…

She walked onward, finally giving my chance to leave. That groggy guard would give me no trouble, his mind too fogged to notice any particularly mobile shadows out the corner of his eyes.

I silently skulked down the twisting maze that was Canterlot Castle, occasionally opening doors and glancing inside to see if I could grab any valuables lying around. This fashion season was rubies, and not just red polished stones either. This season was Fist-Sized Ruby season. Necklaces left on wardrobes with Rubies the size of my eyes, their silver fittings alone worth a good price. I had gone through 6 rooms, receiving a good 10 necklaces worthy of my attention. I came across a room only occupied by small orange filly. Though I didn't care much for morality, I decided I had more than enough loot, to spare this foal the heart-crushing experience of waking up to a burglary. Besides, the crown sitting on her bedside table was a cheap replica . I could tell straight away that the star-shaped ‘gem’ was nothing but stained glass.

I continued down the hallway till I came to my designated broom closet. I quickly let myself in the claustrophobic room, just missing a guard patrol. A small sack sat in the corner, half-full of strips of fabric, the other half being valuables  wrapped in said fabric strips.

I quickly removed the necklaces from my pockets, expertly wrapping my acquired items so they would make no noise when moving the sack around.

I rummaged through, finding the small vial I was provided for my job proper. Some crazy old noble-pony had asked me to steal some of  Princess Twilight's fair hair. I thought the job was a bit odd, but the money he was paying was crazy. I had obtained a total of four threads of hair. The strands were beautiful, as they still shimmered with all their original lustre, and would do so for all time. I was about to stuff them into the glass, when I stopped myself…

I removed one from the bunch, and placed it back into my pocket. A souvenir for such a risky job. And well earned too.

I removed a few tools from my kit, placing them back in the bag. I needed as light a load as possible at all occasions, and this broom closet would make for a perfect temporary stash till sunrise. The expensive silk rope I had used would serve no purpose now, so I put it back in the sack, as well as the enchanted dagger I had used to cut the hair. I never needed daggers for any other reason but to either scare off ponies that gave me trouble, or to help pry open objects. Killing wasn’t my thing, and never would be. I was a Master Thief, not a murderer.

I grabbed the quiver out of the sack, strapping it to my person, as well as removing my bow from its tubing, and stringing it. I had a dozen water arrows, and would probably need them for my next trek out into my playground. Swiftly placing the rest back into the sack, I headed out, still keeping count of the seconds that past as I exploited every blind spot the patrol had.

Through the corridors, I managed to haul a few more valuables. I was always delighted when I found rings that fit me. To ponies, they were almost always ornaments, rather than proper accessories. Horn rings for Unicorns were never worth the risk, as they often carried with them residual magic. This was problematic for two reasons. One: they were VERY easy to track, and Two: They had a tendency to explode when placed in a sack with a bunch of other jewelry. Most of the rings I did pocket were mostly imports or souvenirs from the Griffon kingdoms. And sometimes, there were minotaur rings too.

I was wandering about aimlessly, letting myself relax as I had worked out that there were no patrols in this wing of the castle. The princess valued her privacy, and I respected that. Because that left me to wander around without a care in the world.

I turned a corner, when It caught my eye. The great double doors were slightly ajar, the fire from within leaving ghostly shadows dancing across the walls outside. I shook my head, trying to free myself of the greed and curiosity. Bad- Dumb idea… Just keep going… No- No, Stop you bloody… I sighed. It wouldn’t hurt just to have one peek. I quickly skulked down the hall. The doors were just open enough for me to peek inside. I pulled my hood down, letting me get a better angle, as I watched and waited.

I had seen the inside of this room before, but every time it was breath-taking. The carpet lining the floor was intricately woven, The patterns of swirls and such twining into each other. Every wall was a bookcase, the great personal library possibly putting every other library in the land to shame, besides the Canterlot Archive. But that was only a flight of stairs away regardless. Fabrics of many hues hung from the ceiling, gently boughing in the centre before all rising to different points, further continuing the swirling motif of the suite.

After 30 seconds, I gently pushed with one hand on the door, its well-oiled hinges gliding noiselessly. I quickly swapped places, my back placed against the still closed door. I peeked with my Mechanical eye, Its gaze quickly adjusting to the light difference.

The fire pit was ablaze, its warmth lighting the entire room. This would make sneaking around quite difficult, unless you had a knack for moving with the waves of shadow that boiled with the flames.

In the middle of the room was a large pillow, unoccupied as a book also lay there, still open from its now vacated owner. I had made sure she had returned before I went to the broom closet. But she must have left again. this would make any attempt here quite tricky. I double checked, making sure that she wasn’t out on the balcony, or even waiting nearby for myself to enter. But that was impossible for sure. She definitely hadn’t noticed me before.

I quickly bounded across the room, the combination of my soft leather boots and the carpet making my stealth effortless. I found a small dresser next to the colossal bed, its contents brimming with jewelery. I quickly sorted through the items, testing with my tongue every item to make sure it had no tracking enchantments on it. The telltale zap of electricity was a dead giveaway to magical enchantments on metal objects. More than half did, but I took the rest.

I gave a cursory glance to the many books on the shelf, not many particularly caught my eye, considering I already possessed most of them. Two, however, did catch my eye. ‘Magical Lock Mechanics and Enhancements for Advanced Security Vol.6’, the only volume from the series I was missing, and A Cook-book labeled ‘Meats from the Southern Wastes - A Chef's Guide’. Some rather questionable material for the ruler of a society of Herbivores, but hey, I wasn’t here to judge. Not even close.

The sound of distant hooves graced my ears. I quickly stuffed the books into my sack, and made for the balcony. I looked around, searching for something to hold on to. But the castle walls were almost perfect. Shitfuck…

I could hear the sound of voices now, it seemed the guest had arrived, and she was prepared to entertain. Tonight iss going to be a very very long. I realised I should have kept my rope. It would have come in handy for this situation, but I had to compromise. Luckily, I had developed quite the upper-body strength and endurance over the past few years, and hanging from the balcony would be easy If I needed too. For now, though, I would just have to climb up onto the stone railing, and wait.

Slowly now, the two echoing trots died down, as the Princess and her guest entered the area. They chattered idly, but I could have sworn I had heard that voice somewhere before.

“Was there anything else for tonight Princess Twilight?”

“No, that will be everything, Thank you!”

“My pleasure. I’ll be adjourning for some sleep now. If you need anything- anything at all, do not hesitate to wake me!”

A very very very long night...

He trotted out, closing the door behind him with a thud. I waited, holding my breath as I heard the Princess move about. I could hear the gentle hum of magic, and the subtle clinking of cutlery. It seemed she had received her Lemon Cake, and was waiting for her guest.

A good fifteen minutes passed as I waited there. I realised that I could have been there all night, so I settled down, reclining against the wall as I still sat atop the stone railing. It had me wondering who this guest was, and at such a late time of night. Not even mentioning the state of security. This guest must have been important, or at least, she didn’t want too many ponies knowing… But… she let the Chef know. Well, at least know that there was infact a guest coming. I was no expert on social ladders, but I had a feeling that a Chef would be a gossip hub…

Another fifteen minutes passed, as I became more and more bored. I swung my leg rhythmically over the rails, remaining silent, but at least letting my body do something monotonous to state my boredom. There hadn’t been any noise for the past half hour, which said to me that she was sitting there, waiting and reading. My mind once again began to wander, pondering who her guest could be.

I don’t recall any ‘going on’s’ last time I was at the guild. Perhaps something slipped through intelligence… Or maybe… No. Thats a dumb idea, and she doesn’t even know you’re here. And what business would she have with you anyways. Besides, Its been half an hour, and she hasn’t even indicated whether or not she knows you’re here. She could be toying with you, and It wouldn’t be- I don’t even know…

Thirty minutes more, and nothing had happened. I wanted to risk a peek into the room, but I decided against it. I settled instead for reading the cook-book. If she knew I was here, I would have been in the dungeon already. It was then, after more monotonous counting of seconds and reading on the subject of spicing and properly salting squirrel meat that I heard stirring from inside.

Soft steps came in my direction, and I scrambled to hide. I slid the book back into the sack, and quickly let myself hang down below the balcony. I had a split second of vertigo, as I realised how far away the world was below the great mountain city. I held onto the many decorations of the half-dome below, holding my breath as the sounds of hooves on stone confirmed my suspicion. As if you’d be having a gander at this time of night-

My heart surged into my throat as I watched her, slowly, peek her head over the edge, right where I was. She gazed down at me, her Violet eyes piercing through the darkness, as they watched me with alien understanding and thought.

Her expression was a scowl, as she studied my face. My Hood was down, but my Half-Balaclava hid my gut-wrenching expression of terror. ...I’m fucked……

“Well, are you coming in or not…..”

“...I- ...I beg your pardon?”

“I have Lemon-Sugar Cake, and some Chai Tea waiting. You’ve been out here for nearly an hour…”

She disappeared, returning to her room, as I just hung there, thousands of feet above Equestria, trying to figure out what had happened…

I hauled myself up, resigning to my defeat and eventual imprisonment. I was going to make the most of this, and Lemon-Sugar Cake was my favorite. Thats probably not a coincidence either.

I entered the room cautiously, circling the Princess like she was a crouching lion, ready to pounce. Trying not to make any hasty movements that would betray my neutrality in the situation. Princess Twilight was already back on her large custom sitting cushion, reading the book she had left alone. She slowly sipped a small cup of tea from a lavish tea set, the matching spoons, Teapot, Tea-cups and plates all had obsidian swirls painted on, again continuing the motif of her room. My mind instinctively calculated what that would sell for on the Black-market, but all that wouldn’t matter soon.

Her plate was almost clean, a fork lay diagonally, a few yellow crumbs sat as remnants of her already eaten slice of cake. A large, freshly-baked Lemon-Sugar Cake sat in the centre of the table, its decorative mastery a testament to the skill of the Castles Chef. A small, human chair sat across from where she read, a plate with a slice of the cake ready to go, some tea poured as well. That creeping feeling had hit me right in the face. This was a bloody setup…

I began to scowl, my feelings of betrayal getting the better of me. I sat down with a huff, dropping my bow and quiver to the ground. I folded my arms and pouted like a child. This was complete bullshit. The guild probably tipped the Princess off. Those dirty ponies were always jealous of my skills, and my superior situation, as comparing a human to a pony in terms of stealth, there wasn’t much competition. Their best thief was leagues below what I could pull off.

I continued to leave my gaze on the floor. I could smell the cake, the baked wonder was still slightly warm. I dared a glance over the table, noticing that Princess Twilight had stopped her reading, instead studying me intently. I quickly looked away again.

“Please, this cake is for you; A peace offering! And no, its not poisoned or drugged. You and I both know that I could have half the castle in this room in a minute if I dared a scream…”

I gave her my best stink-eye. Elevating my look of displeasure. She was in control. And I was well and truly boned.

I grabbed the fork, its odd handle awkward to grip, but I managed. I pulled down the Balaclava, and ate the cake. It was fucking delicious, and I hadn’t eaten in a day. I finished the cake, licking my lips. A continued to take advantage of the situation and drank the tea too. All the while, the Princess watched me intently.

After I finished, I replaced my Balaclava and hood, keeping my face darkened. She nodded and began, lifting a scroll and quill with her magic.

“Now, this is going to be a bit odd, considering our rather differing opinions and ethics. But I had discussed it at length with The other Princess’, and after some convincing, they agreed. Your record for no physical harm is quite legendary, even if you do hang out with the unsavory types who do do such things…”

I huffed in amusement, slowly rocking at the sudden brief laughter. This wasn’t a setup. Worse, this was a proxy job for someone who wanted off the records. If the guild found out about this, they’d have my head for sure.

“And just to clear a few things up, though you almost have certainly figured out most of this already. I was the pony who paid you for the hair. though, It looks like you haven’t completed the job….” Her magic quickly swept over my clothes and loot-sac, looking for the strands of hair I had taken. she looked disappointed, but I smirked.

“I have them… Just not here.” She flinched as I spoke. Ponies seemed to be allergic to my Baritone voice, as if I oozed evil. Which might have been true, but it certainly wasn’t intentional. She nodded, understanding. She quickly wrote some notes down on her parchment. I just waited. If I somehow weaseled my way out of this, I was definitely hitching the next ride to Manehattan.

“And, before we consider your application. We just need a few clarifications on your methods. As you can probably tell, hiring Public-enemy #1 for a job is a rather controversial act, that requires a huge level of secrecy, as well as a discrete amount of leverage. So, giving you the only ultimatum necessary in this situation, we will require you to comply, otherwise we will have to imprison you on the charges of theft, breaking and entering, grand larceny, petty theft, trespassing, breaking and entering, exploitation: including bribery of royal staff, and inciting treasonous acts against the royal equestrian monarchy, including bribery, direct treason, disobeying orders for banishment, and the theft of military secrets, as well as magical super-weapons. For a grand total of 3’072 years of imprisonment, with a permanent payroll solution upon cessation of your time in prison. Normally in this kind of situation for immortal or other-worldly subjects, we would just turn you to stone. But none of your crimes are that serious. Especially considering that ‘magical super-weapon’ was only turned into a lawn ornament after you sold it to the black market.

“So, If you successfully perform this job for us, and agree to stop and reform your ways, we’ll pardon you of all crimes, and grant you a place to live in Canterlot as a permanent advisor of security for Canterlot Castle.”

I was in shock. Not because of how easy I had gotten off, but because this was complete and utter bullshit. She was acting like I had a say in the matter, when I clearly had none. This wasn’t even funny, but she just sat there, grinning like a bloody idiot.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers. It had been a long night, and this entire situation was going to ruin my week. I quickly evaluated methods of escape. But none seemed plausible. But there was no way in hell he was going to take an impossible job. I’d prefer a lengthy, possibly overcome-able prison term to a suicidal death-trap of a mission.

“What exactly is this job then?”

“She levitated over a book, opening it to a bookmarked page with her magic and dropping it in front of me. Illustrated on the page where a set of 6 necklaces, each with a shapely gem and corresponding colour. One I had seen this very night, A tiara by the looks of it. The page was labeled “Elements of Harmony” a name most people knew well from folk-lore. These were Super-Weapons in themselves. And as far as I knew, they were still here in the Castle.

I had a good look at the diagrams, making note of all the very specific features detailed for the items. Princess Twilight wanted me to steal these, and If I needed to make sure that they were authentic, I would be able.

“Thats interesting... I thought you had already possessed these. If I’m not mistaken, behind that Brazen-Lock Gate in the Throne room…” I sneered.

She nodded in agreement, then looking sad. I saw her gaze shift to where a painting was hanging on the wall behind me. I remembered where it was, but not much about the canvas’ content. I had already discerned that It held no monetary value beyond being possessed by the Princess. And normally objects that held more personal value than actual value were hard to sell. Especially if they belonged to someone who could throw you in a dungeon on a whim just for possessing it.

She looked back to me before speaking. “They were stolen a month or two ago, by the Arch-Mage and War Criminal Unicorn, Sombra. As you may, or may not know, they hold a rather important role in the defense of Equestria as a whole. Now that you know the few details...”

I tuned her out, something at the archway to the balcony caught my gaze. A flutter of movement told me that some flying creature was listening nearby. They risked a quick glance, and confirmed my suspicions. Perhaps tonight won’t be as long as originally anticipated.

I interrupted her speech on purpose. Stretching my arms and yawning very loudly. She began to scowl, realising that I had become quite cocky. I pulled my balaclava down from my face, letting her see the smirk that I wore like a badge of freedom. She began to stir, getting up from where she was sitting.

“Terribly sorry, my good Princess, but I have quite a busy schedule tonight, and its already late as it is. I’ll be taking my leave, if you don’t mind.” Her venomous look was scary.

She could put me on my arse in the blink of an eye, literally. But I knew she wouldn't do anything hasty. she had already spilled her guts, and I knew that she needed me.

“What- are you talking about. You’re trapped here. Nevermind the locked doors, I can have half the castle in-”

“-in this room in a minute if you dared a scream. Yes, thats very clever. But that won;t matter if I’m gone’

Just as I proclaimed my safety word to my companion over in the dark. A little orb rolled into the room, slowly coming to a stop between me and the Princess. I closed my eyes, and pressed both hands over my ears.

“What on earth is…”

*BOOM*

Great blinding white light pierced the room. The sound deafening. Princess Twilight shook her head in a daze, trying desperately to return her wits. She attempted to cast some spell, to catch me or cure her blindness, I didn’t know. But I could hear the tell tale sound of a magical spell fizzling out. She cursed some words, even harsh to my hardened ears screaming profanities as I barged past her.

“My magic. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY MAGIC!!!?!?!?”

I quickly grabbed the teleportation orb the Pegasus beyond the shadows offered me, removing my gloves and firmly pressing both my palms to its cool surface. I watched as she stumbled about her room, in confusion, but mostly rage.

“SCIENCE BITCH!”

I pressed down with both arms, cracking the orb and releasing the charged spell. My world became colours as a stream of colours swarmed in all directions. Hot and cold flushed over my body, pulsating till after a few seconds of pure psychedelic euphoria, I was dumped back into the real world.

Sampson and Flick

The world shimmered and swirled, seeming to flicker in and out of focus rapidly, like a camera on speed. Different images of different places seemed to stretch and scream at me. Faster and faster I traveled, till the world came to a crashing stop, still shuddering. I fucking hate teleporting.

I was crouched on a dusty wooden floor, the teleportation process unceremoniously dumping me on my knees. I slowly got up, the shuddering of my vision giving me nausea. My sight slowly calmed down, and let me see where I was. Home sweet home.

The sun shone through the boarded windows, giving me an optimal viewing luminescence. My homestead was large, considering it was only one room. It had all the facilities I needed to live, including almost every wall covered in shelves. Perfect storage space for my various knick-knacks, weapons, tools, instruments, and most importantly, my trophies.

Aside from my bed, which was more or less a collapsed pile of boards with a mattress, pillows and few blankets slapped on top, there were only a few desks and a solitary chest of draws in the vast space. Dust slowly drifted from the ceiling, procedurally caking every article and furnishing in a layer of smoky grayness. In the gloom, my variously acquired shinnies glittered with what little sunlight did come through the cracks in the wooden boards covering the only window.

I instinctively checked the concealed opening in the wall, a small wooden panel, equipped with a makeshift handle on this side, was still firmly in place. I jostled the board in its fitting to check for my small paper marker, indicating whether or not someone, or rather, some pony had entered my domain since I last left. The small paper Origami was missing.

I could hear the subtle tapping of paper behind me, as I smirked, realising who was standing in the room with me. I slowly turned, poised for attack, despite the lack of danger. “Hello there, Flick.”

The small, dark Pegasus stood before me, her soft gray wings slowly flicked back and forth, keeping the small origami swan airborne. Her self-satisfied grin stretched from ear to ear, the flat teeth slowly grinding back and forth as she chewed on what I assumed was Tea Leaves. She was always chewing Tea Leaves. It seemed to be a Tobacco equivalent for Equestria. Her Dark Grey eyes matched her Salt-and-Pepper mane, the long shag covering most of her face.

“Hi…”

…

“Nice timing by the way. How much did that orb set you back?” I inquired, breaking the tension by starting to unstrap all my various belts and pouches and placing them in their normal places. The dusty outlines could still be seen, showing me as a creature of habits. Flick just watched me as I meticulously removed objects from their pouches and replaced them to their locations.

“Oh, you know. This and that… Sampson owed me a favor, so he let me look at a few before I bought them. He wasn’t too happy about it. But now we’re square. And you, Garrett, What has your charming self been up to- Oh! wait. I know. You were dining with royalty at 3 in the morning. You’re not one know for your over-zealous greed, or your stumbling into traps without a way out… But that might mean that… Oh dear…” Her grin grew wide again. I knew exactly where this was going. I had been saved, only to just be grasped by the next slimy vine nearby.

“Oh no. I don’t owe you shit. I didn’t ask for you to watch my back, or cover my arse. You and I have an agreement on this. Otherwise YOU owe me for the Blueblood Manor incident. And that makes US even anyways.” I could feel my eye twitch with annoyance. Flick was out for favors. And If she was exchanging a Sampson favor for a Garrett favor, she was obviously out for a job. And I was done for jobs this week. I seriously needed a break.

She began to pout. “Oh noes! Then what shall I ever do with all this reclaimed loot..” She fluttered her eyes as she held up a sack- MY sack. The same sack I had left in the broom-closet back in Canterlot Castle.

I snatched it roughly from her grasp, quickly rummaging through it while disregarding her whiny protests. Most of the stuff was here, including the vial of Hairs, and my Bow and Quiver. Good. I pocketed the vial, and gave the sack an experimental shake in one hand. It felt lighter than it should have been.

“Where is the rest of my loot!” I said sternly, interrupting her rambling. If there was one thing. You could have me hanging upside down, or on a dark balcony for hours on end. But noone fucked with my loot. Flick began to grin again, sweeping past me while giving me a seductive look.

“Now, now Garrett, you simply must learn to share. Especially with people who value you life enough to spend a fair coin on proper escape equipment.” She said with her seemingly British-cockney accent. Fiddling with some of the Origami sitting on the desk, she almost seemed disinterested in me. But it was all theatrics. It was always theatrics. Ponies in this trade seemed to live and breathe it.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Look, I don’t OWE YOU SHIT. Like I said. If this puts me in debt, were just square. You’d be in Canterlot Dungeon right now If I hadn’t been there to save your plot from 'Lord Poofter'. You cocked your job, And I pulled the slack. Now both of our slack is gone. Deal.” I began to unpack the sack, checking that the expensive rope was still there. I began placing all but the wrapped jewelry back onto their dust-outlined homes. “How did you even know, or find my loot.”

“I had a favor from a Janitor at Canterlot Castle. Scruffy, I think his name is.” she said. I scoffed, almost outright laughing at my stupidity.

“Oh, of course. You and your bloody favors! They should start calling you The Mistress of Favors.” I puckered up my lips, making kissing noises. It happened so quick, I reacted long after it happened. Flick snapped open her wing, smacking me with her primary feathers right on my nose. It took me a second to figure out what had happened, before I flinched awkwardly.

“What the fucking ffffffffff” I clutched my nose in disbelief, my eyes involuntarily watering from the very brief spike in pain. I gave her a look that could singe hair, but she just smiled at me.

“A good number of Ponies owe me favors. And in our line of work, you can never have enough. I need a favor from you, and you will be helping me. You get a standard cut, and possibly some good rep with the Thieves Guild High-ups. This isn’t me conning you.” she said sternly, still maintaining her off-putting smile. I raised an eyebrow. Me and Flick had always been friendly, but she almost never shared her work with me unless she was in grave peril.

“Alright then. Considering you rescued my Bow and quiver too, I’ll throw you a bone.” She looked at me quizzically, going slightly pale. I realised what I had said.

“No.. as in, A dog likes to chew a bone- You know what, forget it... What’s the job.”

She turned back to my Origami table, sweeping the half-finished creations to the floor, and pulled a roll of papers from her saddle-bag. Rolling them flat, and grabbing a few ornaments to place on each of the corners, she began looking over what I assumed was a map of our future destination. The long corridors, combined with the many furnishing markings and structured placement told me instantly that this was a Museum or Art Gallery. Amongst the many black lines, there were a few crudely drawn red circles placed over certain fixtures, with a largest circle being surrounded by inwards-pointing arrows. I almost recognised the place immediately, but I still had to ask.

“This isn’t… You’re not seriously considering stealing from this bloody place. Its a death trap! You do know how far away this is from her quarters? Besides I am so done with high-profile jobs for the rest of the year.” I huffed, but continued to looked over her shoulder. She simply traced one hoof over the various markings, as if orchestrating a symphony.

“It’ll be like stealing Candy from a foal, if we pull this off exactly as I have designed. You and I will be able to retire for the rest of our lives, considering the mountain of bits that the client promised.” She continued to fondle the paper, I rolled my eyes.

“How much?”

“500. 250 each…”

That wasn’t half bad. But it still depended on the item. ‘Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand Bits’ rolled of the tongue nicely. I looked back at the diagram, and tried to discern which item was circled. Alas, I had never been in that part of Canterlot Castle. If it was one thing I had learned from my time as a nocturnal Thief. Never EVER cross paths with The Princess of the Night. That bitch was CRAZY.

“So, what are we stealing then?”

“Thats the spirit! We are being paid to steal the one and only ‘Night Opal’. The largest, and rarest opal in existence. Gifted to her majesty by Whitetail Kingdom nearly 200 years ago. It remains one of the most heavily guarded, and most precious non-magical items in Equestria. A true beauty to behold. The only problem with is current position is, somepony else wants it. And that’s our job.”

I silently continued to study the map before me. Entrances and exits were detailed, as well as possible magical and physical traps and alarms. A whole bunch of other places were circled, probably being other cabinets with valuables. They would be second priority. Especially if they were trapped as well. I always hated and loved magic. Because it always forced me to rethink everything. It made what should have been the simplest task, into the worst night of your life. It was ruthless, cunning. Unrelenting, and most importantly… very unreliable when around me.

“What traps are we looking at” I asked. There were no distinct markings for traps on the map. And that was obviously the most important part. Flick smiled. If she had fingers, I think she would have cracked them. It seemed apt, but she just began her explanation.

“The gem sits in its own case, completely separated from the rest of the exhibit. The cases are Heart-crystal. Meaning that you can’t just break in. The locks, however, are cheap knock-offs of Smith&Sparkle superior Magic-resistant and Pick-resistant locks. Meaning that the tumblers are frail. But none of that matters, because the counterfeits come with a secret master pin, only accessible by an extra-long key, to which I have the mold.

“The system is rather extensive, especially considering the amount of loot and who it belongs too. This is why I needed you Garrett. The Magic-laser trip-wire system ins separated into 3 bands, covering the entire horizontal area of the wing in Canterlot Castle. One an inch above the ground, another halfway up the room, and the other a few inches from the ceiling. This makes it almost impossible for a Pegasus to enter the room without detection, unless they were a midget, and had some serious hover-control in a no-breeze scenario. The laser’s are way too close together, and Earth Ponies are out, because of the floor lasers. And Unicorns can’t use sticky-spells to walk on the ceiling. This system is mostly adequate, but to top it all off, there are sweeping motion detectors in every room. This means, fast movement is out of the question too. The only way you’d be able to get through is if you were to enter through one of the ventilation shafts, which are situated between the laser’s, use a rope and arrow, create a repelling line between the laser strips, and climb your way to the mana-fuse on the other end of the museum and deactivate the system…”

I pondered what she had said, I recognised a flaw immediately, but she seemed so confident. “Alright then. But there is the flaw of using an Arrow and Rope. You already mentioned the motion detectors. How am I supposed to shoot an arrow through the rooms if they’ll just trip the system?” I rubbed my chin quizzically, but she just looked back at me, nonchalantly.

“Easy. All you need Is an arrow and rope, made of light.”

“...”

“...”

“No, seriously, how are we meant to do this?”

“I just told you.”

“I- I can’t tell if you’re being serious…” I face palmed. “Nevermind, FUCKING MAGIC.”

She laughed, returning her gaze back to the map at hoof. “All we need is a pony who deals in Phoenix Down, and a Tailor who can weave it. Luckily, we both know a pony who does both. And He owes me a favor.”

I rolled my eyes. Again with the favors. But I still had a few questions.

“Okay. Where do you come into this. You said this would be a group job. And I don’t think you’ll be terribly okay with repelling in such tight constrictions, let alone you’re a pony. Dexterity doesn't come to you as easily as it comes to me.”

“I, will create a distraction. And you’ll love this. I am going to ‘attempt’-” she brought her wings up, and curled them at each tip “ to steal the Elements of Harmony….”

I scoffed suppressing laughter. This was too good.

“I hate to break it to you ‘sister’, but somepony else has got them already. Thats what Princess Lavender-Fuzz was ‘hiring’ me for. To steal them back.”

Flick turned away, obviously becoming quite embarrassed. “Fuck, this ruins everything. Now what am…” She muttered something under her breath, and paused there for a while as I assumed she was formulating a new plan in her head. Her ears were pressed against her head as she concentrated intently. She had slowed her breathing, and I couldn't help but tap her on the shoulder as an idea drifted into my head.

She looked back at me, her large eyes watery from clenching them shut too tight.

“Just start a fire?”

“... BRILLIANT.”

***

“But I don’t wanna go to the Underground! I just got fucking hoooome! I haven’t slept in 15 hours!” I whined as Flick slowly pushed me to the exit, using her head and superior grip to push me along. “OW what the fuck.” I clutched my nose as she whipped me in the face again with her wings. I clutched my nose as my eyes watered, not realising that my socks had caught on a crack in the floor-boards, and I was slowly being pushed into one hell of a Face-plant.

*CRASH*

“GAAAH FUCK”

My muffled groans were only met with a disapproving glare as Flick attempted to stare me into submission. I had learned that Ponies were rather visual creatures, and relied alot on their theatrics to get their way. Luckily, I was nearly immune to them. It was hard to consider something to be dangerous, when it looked so cute. This was no exception. I just death-glared her back.

“Are all humans genuinely this stubborn? because I’m not too sure why the saying still refers to Mules. You lot top the list easily!” She huffed, storming past me and through the small exit. I groaned, but obliged. I picked myself up, breeches caked in the accumulative dust. I patted myself down, and quickly grabbed a few supplies before leaving. I crawled through the small hole, replacing the disguised board behind me, and found myself standing in the shell of an old collapsed Mansion.

Huge beams were the only real remnants of the once grand building. They protruded up out of the long forgotten ruble, roof-tiles and various other wooden furnishings and fixtures melded together and rotted after so long. The only parts of the building were now occupied by me, either as storage, hiding places, or the one room I took pride in, the one I had just left.

Apparently this house had once belonged to a baroness. Her long reign ended by the turmoils surrounding the return and reformation of the Draconequus Discord. I never looked much into the history of the building, besides finding the blueprints stashed away at Town Hall. I knew of every hidden room and secret passage that the place still had to offer, not to mention the cacophony of tunnels that made up the catacombs below. The tunnels allowed me to travel between places in the city without being noticed, not that the guards would ever catch me out of the shadows.

Surrounding the Mansion was a rather sizable grounds, now over run by the plants once kept by the staff here. They provided a good cover, visually and acoustically. As well as making it rather difficult for anyone that wasn't a pegasus to even consider getting to the building. Though most ponies had forgotten what was behind the enormous scrub of this lot. This meant I was almost always free of unwanted outside sources, besides the occasional house-call. Today was a good example.

I shielded my eyes from the midday sun. It had been a while.

“Flick, how long was I teleporting for?”

She was moving towards the tunnels, when she turned back, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Well, its about midday, so I assume it would have been nearly 10 hours?”

I cursed under my breath. Another thing I hated about teleportation orbs was the delay. A normal, instantaneous teleportation spell required a rather huge amount of magic to sustain and perform. Whereas a Home Displacement spell required a fraction of the magic, but had a few drawbacks. The most notable drawback being that depending on how far you had to travel from your location to the place considered your home, the amount of time you spent displaced increased exponentially. Meaning that after a certain distance, the amount of time spent traveling there might be worse than just walking at a leisurely pace on foot. But the use in this case was to become displaced to escape the Purple Wonder, not specifically to get me home.

We headed down, descending the pile of rubble, and entering a derelict hallway, its other end collapsed, revealing the mess of vegetation that made up the grounds. We walked to the last door on the right, slowly opening it, careful not to disturb the evened mantra of the buildings precarious repair state. This hallway always made me nervous, and for good reason.

The door silently glided open on its oiled hinges, the only part of this wing of the building I had bothered to maintain. We stepped into the largish once broom-closet, closing the door behind us before continuing.

At the back of the room, was an open crawl-hole. And beyond the claustrophobic opening was the start of the Catacombs. We forwarded in, not saying a word to each other. While flick only had to bend her knees a little, I was on all fours, squirming through. My shoulders were a bit too big for the tunnel, but luckily, this part of the building had seemed to surpass the destructive reaches of time.

We finally came to the tunnel, Flick stepping down gracefully, her wings helping with the fact. While I slowly squirmed out of the tunnel, inching further and further forward till I slipped through, crumpling into a miserable heap on the rubble-ridden floor.

“Its a wonder how you have such a reputation of elusiveness, for one who dwarf’s even Celestia.” Said Flick, seeming to be genuinely curious. I just got up, brushing myself off as always while giving her a puzzled look.

“It’s all relative, I suppose. Although I might be a giant in comparison to most of the ponies in Equestria, there is a very keen difference in physiology, besides the size…” I flexed my gloved fingers in front of her face, making her snort and rear her head back. I laughed at that, but she still seemed confused.

“And lets not forget that none of my appendages end in a hard stubb either. The only thing you ponies have got on me is magic, and flying. God, I would kill to just be able to fly. Even for just a day….” I stared off into the distance, reminiscing about my previous life. It all seemed so foggy now, like it was a dream I had, a very long time ago.

“Well, I suppose.. Come on, Garrett, lets get to the guild while there is still some light to see by. I don’t mind walking in the streets at night, but your place gives me the creeps.” she said, shifting her gaze around, examining the half ruined tunnel.

We continued to walk down, heading on a slope down for a fair while, before it started to come back up again. As we came to the flat that run underneath the street, the small holes in the sewer grates pierced the veil of darkness, the sharp midday sun flaring through, creating curtains of light. In between the spaces, rats and other vermin scrambled about, trying to find what food they could in the accumulated and ancient waste. Nothing lived down here, besides the rats and moss. The slow drips of water were only disturbed by the faint clip-clop of ponies above, going about their daily business. Completely unaware that Equestrian Public Enemy #1 was standing beneath their very hooves.

We continued along, coming to many street cross-roads, which would also have more of the catacombs intersect each other. Not many ponies knew of this ancient structure, due to most of the old grates being cobbled, graveled, paved, or just overwhelmed by the dirt of time. This place was so old, but how old, I could never guess. Nor could anyone. I held out my hand, letting it run against the old stones still kept in place by sheer engineering perfection. Their rough granite surfaces scarred by time lightly. Grooves and cracks added character to their sublime, clean texture. Flick looked back at me, only glancing for a second before turning her head back. Slowly, she let her wing extend out, letting the delicate primaries run across the stones too.

In silence we walked, only changing our sublime behaviour when we had to make the correct turn. We finally came to a stop below a grate, its crusted build-up of moss and dirt unsettled by recent use. A loud combination of nearby market stalls, and a large crowd of shopping ponies above indicated that the area was busy. I knew exactly where we were.

“We’ll use this exit. This is the way I came in. Its concealed by the stalls from th street. If we’re quick, we can slip past the markets easy.” she whispered, beginning to ascend with her wings to the grate. I lightly grabbed her tail, lightly tugging to get her to come back down. She didn’t look impressed.

“Thats probably the worst place to use at this time.” I pulled a sterling silver pocket watch out from one of my many pouches. Confirming the time with a subconscious nod before replacing it. “In about five minutes, the barracks will be changing for half-time. And that place will be swarming with guards, either passing by to return to the barracks, or grabbing a bite to eat before attending their posts… You obviously don’t know the East Quarter.” I finished by putting my hand up on my chest, looking as ‘posh’ as possible. She rolled her eyes, but grinned back.

“I’ve always fancied myself a Stone Quarter Girl.” she whispered back, striking the same pose as me. I wolf whistled, causing us to break. We both giggled quietly, before I began leading the way to the better option for surfacing.

The catacombs began to slope slowly down again,  a slow trickle of water gurgled, winding through the rubble. We followed it for a long time, the complete lack of light making it a bit hard for Flick to navigate. My eye could still see perfectly. Although when I was in dark areas, the colour seemed to bleed away, making everything look black and white. I placed my hand atop her withers, letting me guide her as we walked.

Finally leveling out, the tunnel was pooled with water. The dark shiny surface barely moved in the dark. I continued to guide us forward. Flick yelped as she stepped into the water. She cringed back, but began to hover, still keeping my hand lightly touching her back. Far ahead, we could see our destination. A small ray of light pierced the deep gloom. We approached, the sudden pitch in light blinding me for a few seconds. A ladder, worn into the stone from age led to a grate far above. The hand- well, the hoof holds were treacherous at best. Luckily, I was a human, and Flick was a Pegasus.

She lazily ascended the narrow manhole… Or was it a ponyhole? Eh. She ascended lazily while I used my superior height to use the leverage of my back against one side, and my feet against the other. It was slow goings, relatively speaking. Flick looked like she was going to hit me again when I finally reached the top.

“Alright, the area around the grate is completely sealed. So we won’t have to worry about anything besides the noise.” I whispered. Flick nodded, not saying anything. She clumsily moved around my large figure, letting me take the lead with as much grace as possible in this situation. I readied myself, pushing my back hard against the wall. Spreading my fingers across the grate, I slowly began to lift. The problem with ancient structures like these is that, besides the stonework and decoration, not much was subtle. More so due to the lack of knowledge than a lack of care. The grate was flipping heavy. I maintained my endeavour, slowly lifting and angling so it would sit above its rim on the street above. With one last push, It heaved to the side. letting me flex my strained digits. Flick just grunted impatiently.

I slowly pushed the grate to the side, letting it open just enough so I could look around. I repositioned my legs, and lifted my head to the street level. Just as planned, there was a sizable thicket surrounding this derelict part of Canterlot’s street. You could tell it was part of the street from the gutter, but large thorns had overgrown the wall of this building, making it quite easy to stay concealed. Not to mention that the thorns kept away any prying eyes. Not that many eyes came prying into thorn bushes anyways.

I pushed the grate all the way open, climbing out and letting myself stretch. The hollowed out area was big enough for even I to stand in. Letting me swing my arms above my head with clearance. Flick followed suit, slowly arching her back, and letting her stretch her forelegs and wings. We glanced at each other, drinking in the awkward moment. We shifted our sight to another position after a few tense moments, daring each other to make the first move. I decided to shatter the strangely formed social ice, and began to replace the metal grate to its resting place.

“Where to now then? I don’t see an exit through these brambles.” said Flick, her tone was one of boredom.

I pointed to the wall beside us, the only structure on the street that was currently visible to us. The thorns curled over the destroyed road, leaving this part of the building concealed. And I knew how to navigate.

I slowly moved my hands over the stonework. The switch was very small. Which was odd considering that this was a Pony construct. It would be near impossible for a hoof to push the intricate mechanism. Perhaps it was made for a Unicorn?

I found the button, taking a quick breath. I gave it a sharp press with my thumb, the small pebble giving way, before clicking back into its place. The sound of old gears and stone grinding against stone could be heard below. I turned back to Flick, grinning at her shocked expression.

Slowly, the wall lowered, separating from the small awning below the boarded window above. What revealed to us was a large tunnel, darkness painting itself against the high sunlight filtering through the sharp plantlife. I backed up, waiting till the stone door had completely lowered. Flick just stared, her jaw agape in wonder. The stone stopped with a loud thud and a following click. I tapped Flick’s jaw shut, her teeth clattering together in a very comical way. I moved forward, leaving her standing in the thicket. The shadows inked the walls, leaving me alone in the shadows. My element was comforting, even if they weren’t as great a secret as they had been not a minute ago. Eventually, I could hear Flick trotting from behind, catching up to me in the tunnels.

Again, we found ourselves sloping downwards, the hidden tunnel more gentle in gradient. The inky blackness here was too great even for my keen eye. I let my hand slide across the newer tunnels, more for assistance in walking rather than feeling. The well built passage was fine, but it didn’t have the ancient appeal that the catacombs had.

We walked for what would have been half an hour, turning several times, each of which Flick would bump into the wall and squeak with fright. Apart from that, the only noise in the echoing dark was the sound of Flicks hoof steps.  Finally, after the seventh turn in the dark, i could see our destination. The light was faint, but in the solid darkness of this tunnel, it seemed almost too bright. the tunnel ended, leaving a small hole to jump down through. I had traveled this place often, and I knew the way was clear up to the drop. I ran ahead, leaving Flick behind without a noise. I reached the drop in no time, only looking back as I heard Flick whimper and begin to trot ahead to where I was. I slowly peered down through the wooden cover, the small cracks providing a sparse view of below. Thought there wasn’t much to look at. All I could see of the place below was the wooden floor-boards, and the slow flicker of a fire somewhere to  the side.

Flick finally caught up, panting in unrestricted terror, rather than exertion. She gave me a stink-eye, as she always did whenever I pulled something she didn’t agree with… Or, even when I did anything, to be honest. I just grinned, and poked a tongue out at her. She sat on her haunches, crossing her forelegs with a huff. I poked my fingers through the wooden holes, and lifted the trap-door up on its hinge, allowing flick to enter first.

She jumped down, no sound of her fall residing, due to her just flying down. Though the gap wasn’t too far. I carefully edged my way, judging the distance and positioning the trap-door before letting myself fall. With practice and precision that would make a Tibetan monk jealous, I fell and landed on the floor, soundlessly. The trap-door above made a small clat.

I found myself in a very familiar room. It was exactly where we needed to be. Flick just hovered there, a dumbfounded look on her face.

We were in Sampson's house.

Sampson was my fence, and one of the only ponies that truly cared for my well being. Half so because I was his best contact, and half so we had known each other for as long as I had decided to properly settle down in Equestria. He was my Fence, and I was his best. His straight forward attitude and talkative tendencies were some qualities which let him connect so easily. He would yap on about whatever stupid situation had ailed him that week, and I would listen and agree. He gave me the job, I come back a week later with the job finished, he would talk, I would listen. Next job. And that was our routine for the past 8 years.

We stood in his workshop. A great many shelves and work-benches overflowing with contracts, broken tools, and various bits and pieces kept as mementos from his more ambitious jobs. I identified a few lying about as ones from my jobs.

An open Fire pit roared as a homely flame kept the space warm. Although it was the dead of summer, Down in the Thieves Guild. Due to the tunnels ending as sewer exits of the great mountain city, the constant winds blowing through kept the place rather cold all year round. Despite any current temperature on the surface. A few pony sized chairs were loosely assembled around the flame, as well as a rather rugged looking chair built specially for me. None of which were currently occupied.

“But… wait…. I’ve been in this room so many times. And how did I never notice that hole in the roof-” Flick cut herself off as she looked at the ceiling. Where the wooden grate should have been, was now featureless stone, as the rest of the ceiling. “Of course, BUCKING MAGIC!”

She snorted in annoyance as she actually looked around the room for any sign of our quarry. “Sampson must be out at the markets. We should go look for him.”

I shrugged. He was normally here whenever I arrived. It was almost uncanny. But I guess he wasn’t specifically expecting me to show up. Lord knows how he did predict when I was coming, though I never gave it much thought.

Flick walked towards the large iron door, unlocking it with a swift motion of her hoof, and swinging the soundless hatch open. I had been to the massive underground city before. Many times before. But never via Sampsons house. The idea of entering and leaving his place without permission seemed wrong. But I guess if we locked it first, it wouldn’t matter. As Flick forwarded out into the silent town below, I removed my lock picking tools from my small hip satchel and got to work. The lock could only be re-locked from the other side if you had the proper key…  or the correct knowledge on these things.

I pushed a small button along the side of the door, deactivating the magical masks in the lock. With a subtle hum, the noise indicating that the runes had deactivated, I tried to recall what Sampsons key was shaped like. I had committed it to memory, if by habit rather than needing a reason besides now to know it. I pulled a few needle-sized hooks from the satchel too, moving close to the door as I began to move the delicate pins within into their correct positions. Slowly I moved my spike along the hooks, keeping them in position before springing the tumbler in the centre.

The lock gave a satisfying click as the three large lock-paddles sprung out. They were curved on one edge, allowing me to  pull the door closed after the fact. Maintaining my hooks positions, I pushed the small button again, before sliding my hooks and spike out from the lock. I gave the door a gentle tug, letting the momentum from my action to close the door proper. As the door came closed, there was a subtle flash, indicating that the runes had reactivated. I smirked. Too easy.

To my surprise, Flick had silently watched me do it. She had seen lockpicking before, but never with this much precision. She smirked back at me, pleased by my talent. I ruffled her mane playfully, the condescending action causing her to become angry again. She smacked me in the face with her wing, but I was prepared this time. I didn’t hurt as bad, but I still suppressed the girlish noise of pain.

The path ahead was dark, the blundering street had doors upon doors, all sealed by magic locks and boarded windows. Apparently, there was a time when no thief in the Thieves Guild feared theft from his neighbor, out of sheer communal respect for the trade. But as the less savory individuals trickled into the underworld of Canterlot, things got bad. For me, at least, things had always been bad.

The street was only lit by one nearby lantern, hanging above Sampson's door. The ire white-light did not flicker or wane in the gloom, holding a steady luminescence while seeming to amplify the dark beyond its grasp. The narrow path ahead was almost completely dark though.

We walked on, looking over our shoulders as practiced. The thugs down here were problematic. But if you kept an eye on your corners, you were fine. Especially if you had the reputation that I did. Coming to a Crossroad, Flick kicked a rock past the corner, waiting for anyone to spring to action… No pony did.

We continued on straight, till there was a door. This was no ordinary door though. It was a Door of Deception. It would detect the motives of those who sought to pass through before opening. Upon the door was a painted eye, the red smeared paint seemed to glisten in the dark. But the more peculiar feature of this eye was its animation. The painted symbol moved as it watched us approach.

   “Halt, ye Stranger and Feind of the darks yonder. What business have ye here that concerns the realm of Burglars and Thieves?” spoke the door. Its riddling voice always reminded me of something, but I could never put my finger on what. Flick spoke for us.

“We seek trade in the city yonder. Let us pass, for we are the scoundrels you seek.”

The door remained silent for a time while it examined us. It peered at Flick, before looking me up and down. These doors did retain memory, though I had never passed this one in particular. It examined my every detail. Looking over the bow and quiver on my back, my various satchels on my hip, my leather coat and breeches. It stopped at my face. I knew it was examining my eye with interest. All the other doors that I passed through always looked too. The painted symbol seemed to quiver. In fear or excitement, I know not. But it blinked, as if coming to its senses.

“Ye may pass. I sense the greed in your souls, and your deeds and company are welcome here.” The symbol began to shimmer and vanish before the door clicked, and swung aside for us. We forwarded through, holding our breaths as we did. I could- feel the door almost hold its breath too. I didn’t hesitate, waiting till Flick was clear before jumping through the opening. The door closed as I jumped through, my leg almost getting caught in its grasp. I knew not why the doors had such interest in my eye. But then again, I didn't know much about it myself

Beyond the door, we were greeted by the sound of many hooves, all passing about one another, though there was very little actual dialogue amongst the throng. Many merchants harked out their wares at almost all times of night, preferring to rest during the more common times in the day, when everyone was up and outside. Food, Fenced Jewelry, Lock picking tools, weapons, smoke bombs and teleportation orbs. You name it, you could probably buy it at the Thieves Guild. As for the stuff you couldn’t, thats where the Master Thieves came in to the equation. You pay them with a magically sealed chest, that would only open when the customer was satisfied, and could not be removed from the Guild Bank till both parties had reached an agreement. This ingenious magical system meant that even for a city of thieves, there was rarely any theft.

Ponies and other creatures dealing at this time of day would only ever whisper. And fewer still, the merchants only sat nearby, not actively selling their goods unless something came over to look. Stealth and secrecy were key at these times of day, so everything kept a minimal profile.

Only during the night, when ponies believed this place haunted did the true spirit of the underground markets come to life.

But for now. The silence despite the hundred or so dark figures moving about the stalls was… simply put, strange to witness. I had never gotten used to it.

Although the main focal point of this section of the city was the sea of stalls and shops, the huge hodgepodge of buildings that filled the huge artificial cavern sprawled atop one another, the poor constructs held together with gravity rather than ingenuity. The towering structures scraped up against the roof high above, leaning on one another for support. It looked more like a dragon of scaffolding, rather than actual dwellings. Some of the buildings were even furnished with clouds for their Pegasus inhabitants. Allowing a loft home without the worry of collapse. What few solid buildings did exist only held up on the bottom of the cavernous city area. the rest were a mess of slums and shanties all stacked atop one another.

Flick pointed to the sleazy tavern across the Market, its patrons making the only proper rowe of a city. We made our way through the crowd, keeping wings and hands attached to our pockets and valuables. We could see the regular pickpockets coming our way, but stared them down when they came close. Besides that, most of the other denizens kept their distance. They knew who I was.

The Under-city was mostly safe from the authorities of the surface, due to the expertly woven propaganda campaign the guild had devised. They would always have older ponies, or even just bards tell tales all over Equestria about the ancient under vaults. Roamed by Crystal Guardians that could eat an earth-pony stallion in one gulp. This kept the normal citizens well away from the entrances, and the Guards wary. The gurgling of the merchants at night helped perpetuate this story, the long echoing voices making quite a fearful noise when you first entered any of the entrances.

I saw movement to my right, the various ponies and creatures stepping aside to reveal some rather familiar faces. Tonights group of Thugs were regulars of mine. Shadow Bash and his two male junkies. They were almost never seen without each other, which made me wonder about their preference of gender.

I smirked as they approached, their looks of smug defiance told me that they had been drinking, and were in the mood to bully “The Ape” as they had come to call me. When they would finally learn was a mystery. The must not have seen Flick standing nearby either.

“Hey ‘Ape! what do you think you’re doing on our turf, huh? We told you never to come around here.” Said Shadow, his slight stumble told me novels about how drunk he was. His friends snickered, laughing in agreement at his ‘creative’ joke. The other ponies started to clear off, our history of battles had a very unsavory record. Especially since the Western Tavern incident. I had humiliated Bash quite a bit during that one scuff. This time would be no different.

I always kept a passive stance till I was physically berated. I never liked to hurt anything unless absolutely necessary. Their stench of unclean swarmed over my senses, the distinct flare of alcohol prominent on their breaths. Shadow Bash got real close, standing himself up on my chest so he could look me in the eyes. I considered kissing him, but he would probably enjoy it.

“Is something wrong, friends. You lot seem quite sizzled tonight.” I said cheekily. They all swayed ever so slightly, indicating they had been in the taverns for most of the day. Shadow Bash still swayed, despite his  extra support from my frame.

“Don’t get smart with me, monkey. I won’t tolerateh your inch’rushn on my turfff.” He slurred, his breath almost choking me to the point of tears. I held my breath, reeling my head back as I waited for what was about to come. I could feel it coming, the rumbling of his stomach made me cringe.

He belched, right in my face. I couldn't stand the smell! So I reeled back, moving past some stalls in one quick swoop. The three laughed as I retreated. But little did they know, I had left them quite alone with their worst nightmare. Heh… Night Mare…

I heard one of them shriek, as a flurry of snaps, sounding like a machine gun began to whir up, faster and faster. The other two ran away in any direction, while Shadow Bash just cowered. Flick was upon them. She quickly whipped her wings, smacking them in the face, eyes and ears. The others had fled, letting Flick deal with Shadow alone.

“Now mister-” *whip* “Shadow Bash-” *whip* “I thought I had made it very clear.” *whip*  “You are not to- DON’T BUCKING LOOK AT ME!!!!” *whip* *whip* *whip* “You are not to even TALK to Garrett anymore. You drunken buffoon!!”

“I’m sooooo-reeeheheheeeeey!” he cried, sobbing in a heap, more crying for his intoxicated delirium rather than for the furious ball of feathers that was Flick. She was so goddamn pissed. I was glad I was hiding over here.

“Now WHAT is all the Celestia-damned rebel over here then? WHAT are you doing outside the tavern Shadow Bash. GET BACK in there and get you slosh on.” I recognised that voice anywhere. Sampson had managed to find us instead. Though that wasn’t a very hard feat, considering the amount of noise we were making. Shadow Dash whimpered, before scampering back into the crowd. Tears of pain streaming down his messy face.

And before me was the legendary Sampson L Jepsen. His White coat, contrasted against the dark shroud across his shoulders. His short brown mane was well kept, relatively speaking, while his hardened features were only amplified by the large unlit cigar clamped tightly in his teeth. He gave Flick quite the stare, before scanning the surrounding stalls, probably looking for me.

I stood up, brushing my coat of dirt that had been so placed there by the recent thug. I watched Sampson as he stared back at me. He seemed to grumble, but nodded in approval. I nodded back, moving up to talk with them. Flick was a quivering mess of anger.

“You think they’d learn, but those BUCKING fools don't know when to quit. Do they even have a proper reason for being down here? Or are they just seeking refugee for being in one too many stupid brawl fights?!?”

“Alright, alright” Sampson cooed. “We need to use our inside voices again. Nothing can be done about them, honestly. Though you seemed to have traumatised them quite efficiently. Come-on. I’ve done my shopping for the day, and It looks like you have some kind of job stashed away for me. Lets go.”

The crowd had long resumed its normal procession. No noise came from them, if but a few gasps at the way Flick had reacted. They all went along, if keeping a few more meters away from us now. We headed back to the Door of Deception. Though I couldn’t complain. I never really liked the markets, even when locals were being rowdy.

“So what brings you two to my company then? Considering our professions, I would suspect a job….” Sampson, leaning back, gave Flicks Saddle-bags a good look.

“And by the looks of you satchel there Flick, we got ourselves quite the catch. Can I see blueprints there as well. Why if I hadn’t known better I’d say you were stepping up your game from the nobility jobs…” exclaimed Sampson, being quite Ironic. Flick puffed out her chest proudly while I laughed. Sampson gave me an inquisitive look, but I just smirked back.

“You have no idea.”

Hexus and Hexes

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The Sun Room

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