Chapter Five

Malus Peior Pessimus

I could barely believe my ears. “The Great And Powerful Trixie is our top suspect? I saw her magic show in Manehattan a few years ago. She was passable, but more flash than substance. Why would she show any interest in controlling Discord?”

Twilight rolled her eyes and sighed. “She wanted to show everypony in town that she was better than I was at magic, even going so far as to bet that if I lost the magic duel, I had to leave Ponyville forever.”

“What year is this?” I asked, bewildered. “Magician duels for land titles? That sort of thing went out of fashion centuries ago. She must have had a monster ego to pull a stunt like that. You obviously beat her.”

“Fairly easily, too,” she replied, blowing imaginary dust off her hoof. “I didn’t even mention it to Celestia, since I assumed Trixie was just another silly wanna-be magic-user. I never thought Trixie would be so bold as to try to steal Discord’s box. Or Discord himself.”

“Maybe she wants to use Discord’s powers and pass them off as her own?” suggested Spike.

Princess Celestia shook her head. “Whether Trixie is to blame or not, whoever is behind Discord’s abduction must also be brought to justice for the deaths of Bunsen Flask and two of my guards.”

Twilight nodded. “We’ll be on the next train to Manehattan. We’ll bring Discord back and arrest whoever stole him as soon as we can.”

Celestia smiled. “I know you will. Good luck.”

Within an hour, we were on our way to Manehattan.

Fluttershy was communing with her hunting hawks.

Spike was staring out the window in eager anticipation. He had never been to the city before, he explained.

Twilight was reading a book, to no one’s surprise.

Rarity had put an eye-mask on and was soon dozing.

Applejack was looking up at Cloudsdale. That gigantic pegasus city was cranking out more snow-drifts. Looking at her a little closer, I noticed a far-away look in her eyes.

“Ain’t exactly polite starin’ at folks, Equus,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry. How are you holding up?”

“Fine. Ah’m just thinkin’ about the time Rainbow took me on a tour of Cloudsdale. Ah told her that since ah was an earth pony, ah couldn’t set down in the city. You know what she said?”

“Nope.”

“She said, ‘Ah’ll be holdin’ you the whole time.’” Ah asked if she was worried that we’d look like...you know… filly-foolers.”

“What did she say to that?”

“‘Let ‘em stare. Ah love you too much to care. Because yer my mare.’”

I smiled. “I didn’t realize she was a poet.”

Applejack grinned as she said, “That’s what ah said. She just shook her head, smirked at me and said 'Tell anypony ah’m a poet and ah’ll deny it.’ Ah never knew anyone who was that shy and bold at the same time. She’s one of a kind.”

Her grin slipped away as she turned from the window. “Was one of a kind.” She looked at me and asked, “Yew’ve been a mortician for a while, right?”

“That’s right. Why?”

“Well, yew help folks with their grief and loss. Does it get easier? The pain of death, ah mean.”

“All pain fades, Applejack. Trust me on this. It’s hard to say goodbye, but it’ll get better.”

“Ah just can’t believe ah yelled at Celestia about Nightmare Moon. There’s no way she could have known what would happen a thousand years down the road. Ah swear, Equus, ah think ah’m losin’ mah mind sometimes.”

“Grief can be a beast to deal with. My father couldn’t overcome the grief of losing my mother, even after twenty-five years.”

“Look what he turned into.” She shuddered. “Do you think ah’d ever turn into somethin’ like him?”

“I doubt it. While we’re staying at my apartment, I’ll be looking through his journals. There has to be more than just grief that made him want his wife back after so long.”

“Did yer daddy have any friends? Maybe you can ask ‘em what he was really like.”

“The Mortis family kept a really low profile after the war, Applejack. There’s not much future in being social outcasts, after all, so we stayed away from the public eye. If there was ever a problem, we dealt with it and kept ourselves to ourselves.”

Applejack pondered this for a moment. Then she said, “Can ah ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.”

“How many friends do you have?”

“Huh? Well, there’s you and the rest of the Mane Six...”

She waved that away, annoyed. “Ah don’t mean us, Equus. And ah don’t mean anyone at yer job, either. Ah’m talkin’ about everyday-life friends.”

“Having pony skull cutie-marks kind of messed up my chances of being popular or even liked that much, at least in school. I guess I got used to being adrift at sea.”

“But you like helpin’ people with yer mortuary work. Makin’ the dead look good for funerals, that kinda thing.”

“That’s right. I guess I never had that many friendly people in my life. Being a mortician and coroner was my way to help people without… being chummy with them, I guess.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?”

“I suppose. But I was raised by a solitary pony that loved only one mare. I never saw him bring anyone to our apartment when I was a child. Experience dictates nature, AJ. I was raised by my father to be like this.”

“How far from the family tree did you really fall, Equus?”

I tilted my head at her. “What do you mean?”

“Look at what he did to himself. At what he then did to you. Could you ever do that kinda damage to anypony else?”

She may have been grieving, but she was as blunt as ever. At least she was talking to someone. “I’ve used my tombstone stare before. That’s how I got the chief of security at KirkBridle Mental Institute to relocate Pinky Pie to a safer section of the asylum. As far as hurting someone? No, I was raised to never fight back.”

“You just let other ponies beat the stuffin’ outta you?”

I looked at the floor, rubbing the back of my head. The memories of all the bloody noses and black eyes the school bullies gave me were as vivid as if they happened last month. Pain is harder to forget than pleasure. I nodded.

She snorted. “Ah’d never put up with that crap. Ah may have been homeschooled, but Granny Smith told me to never let a bully get the better of you. She taught me a few tricks to keep the mean ponies from gettin’ the upper hoof.”

“Like hitting the knees?” I offered. “Or kicking the ankle or fetlock?”

“So you do know a few moves.” She chuckled. “Ah guess since you know where all th’ bones, nerve centers and stuff like that are, you know how to cause damage to someone.”

“Well, having to examine over three hundred murder patients would give anypony an education in murder-methods, yes.”

Applejack whistled in admiration. “That’s a lot of graves to fill. Ah guess it’s kinda hard to have an optimistic view of Equestria in yer line of work.”

“It can make you bitter.” I smiled at her. “If you don’t have friends to help keep a positive outlook.”

“You know somethin? Ah bet you and Rainbow Dash would’ve gotten along like cats 'n cream.”

Once again I had to bite my tongue. I could still hear Rainbow Dash’s request; Don’t tell the others you talked to me. They need to move on. Sometimes I wish it was her that visited my dreams rather than her grotesque doppelganger.

I smiled and said nothing.

A few hours later, the train arrived in Manehattan. Clouds of snow swirled over the bridge as Spike gawped at the approaching canyons of buildings.

“Wow, some of these skyscrapers are bigger than Princess Celestia’s castle!” He exclaimed.

“Wait until nightfall, Spike.” I said. “The city looks almost completely different then.”

The murder rate triples at night, for one thing. It’s also when the drug dealers, thieves and prostitutes begin their shifts, but I would save those tidbits for when Spike was a little older. I didn’t want him getting cynical before his time.

He looked at me, grinning. “And you lived here your whole life? I bet you were never bored.”

I smiled politely. “You could say that. My line of work usually involves people who partied a little too hard, though.”

Spike flinched a little. “Oh. Yeah. Almost forgot.” The dragon gazed at the walls of glass, concrete and steel. “It still looks awesome, though. How many people live here?”

Twilight answered. “Two million, give or take a few thousand.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “I didn’t realize the city was this huge. I should have brought more hawks.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, Fluttershy,” replied Twilight. “If Discord is being rejuvenated with Spectrum, your hawks can hunt that magic down. All they need is a little sample of the liquid rainbow to give them something to track with.”

“Oh. I… I don’t know, Twilight. What if it hurts them?”

Twilight rubbed her chin. “Maybe if one drop of the stuff was diluted with one part Spectrum to five parts water. That should make it safe for your hawks to get a taste.”

Fluttershy fidgeted a bit, casting a worried glance at her birds. “I… suppose. If it’ll help them track Discord down.”

The train pulled into the downtown station. My apartment was a few blocks away, so I led the way. The streets were as busy as I remembered. We all kept an eye on each other to make sure we didn’t get separated. To make sure Spike didn’t get swept away in the constant, pressing tide of Manehattanites, he rode on Twilight’s back.

There were mounds of snow on the sidewalks, pushed there by the snow-plows. After having to climb over the snow-piles a few times, Applejack grumbled, “Ah shoulda b-brought a jacket.”

“We’re almost there, AJ,” I said. “I’ll dig something out of my closet for you.”

“T-thanks.”

A few more blocks of crowds and snow-drifts led us to my old home. Concord Apartments was thirty stories of middle-class comfort, which meant the lobby gave us all some much needed warmth. We spent a few minutes in there, shivering and wiping the snow off of us.

I looked around, letting all the old memories come back to me. White ceramic decorative tiles, huge paintings of the city and red carpeting. My whole life was spent in this place. I had to give dad credit for one thing: he made sure I didn’t grow up poor.

After we were sure we could feel our hooves again, we went to the elevator and got off at the fifth floor. I recognized every pock-mark and scratch on the walls. I sometimes saw this hallway in my sleep.

Three doors down, white door with silver door-knob. Apartment 217. A piece of crime scene tape was still stuck to the door-trim. It almost felt as if I never left Manehattan at all.

I just hope the apartment was as clean as the landlord said it was.

After opening the door, I flicked the light on.

Clean floor. No blood. Not even the coppery scent remained.

As I walked over the spot where my father sacrificed himself, I said, “It’s not a palace, but we hopefully won’t be staying here long. The kitchen’s empty, naturally, but I’ll order take-out.”

I gestured to my left. “The bathroom’s over there. I’ll scrounge up some blankets for tonight.”

Rarity gestured to the couch by the window. “Doesn’t that fold out into a bed?”

“We never had anypony stay the night with us. Sorry.”

She tsked. “Never? That’s a shame.”

No argument here. As my guests settled in, I went down the hall past the bathroom. All the old memories were sneaking back. There were no pictures of me, or my father and I together.

Tobacco-stain-colored photos of family members that died fifty years before I was born still hung in their decades-old spots.

There were two rooms facing each other at the hall’s end. I had cleared out my room on the left before I moved out, so I opened dad’s door. The bed-sheets were tousled, which made me think for a split-second that dad was coming in here soon. Ivory never left the bed unkempt.

Hung near the bed was a large framed photo of a white mare with dark grey hair. Her ice-blue eyes were a sharp contrast to the otherwise pallid colors of the picture. She had a cheerful smile and a quiet confidence in her eyes.

There was a gold plaque on the frame. “Marrow Mortis. Born 950 ANM Died 975 ANM.”

A table sat next to a bookshelf filled with books on the mortuary and medical examiner professions, history books and journals.

His journals were all dated, so I plucked out the last one he wrote in. Glancing through the dates, I noticed that the last entry was made the day before he died. I was about to read it when Twilight walked in.

She studied the photograph’s plaque. “What does ANM stand for?” she inquired.

“After Nightmare Moon. My family had it’s own chronology.”

“That’s a lovely looking mare.”

I smiled. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll get to meet her in these notebooks dad kept.”

“It’s getting a bit late in the day. We’ll start our search in the morning.”

“Good idea. I need to order some food for us. After dinner, I’ll catch up on my reading.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for in those books,” said Twilight as she walked out of the room.

To help scratch my curious itch, I flipped through the journal to a random page and began to read.

1/12/995 ANM

There is a new coroner in the morgue. Cherry Flower, a nice-looking mare with blood-red fur and a white mane and tail. Her emerald eyes are hard to ignore.

She sounds a little like my Marrow. I’ve only seen her a few times in the day, but Cherry’s on my mind all the time.

Interesting, I thought as I put the book down and left the room. Dad never mentioned Cherry Flower to me.

I wonder what happened to her?

Author's Note

Latin Lesson #5 Malus Peior Pessimus (bad, evil, wicked)
(Interesting fact; Malus is an apple genus for crabapples. Weird head-canon; Malusjack, Applejack's evil twin brother?)
Soundtrack for this chapter: "Uncertain Shelter" by False Mirror