Interrogation report - Canterlot thievery - "Blank Slate"
“Alright, let’s get this over with. Interrogation starting, 11:30AM. Please state your name.”
“Oooh, is that a recording gem? I didn’t know you had—”
“Please state your name.”
“Well then. Blank Slate.”
“‘Blank Slate’ is a suspect in the ongoing investigation into the recent robberies of high-profile…”
“Not a suspect. I did it. You guys would still have no idea if I hadn’t—”
“Suspect surrendered to the Royal Guard approximately two hours ago, claiming to be the orchestrator of the high-profile theft cases of the past several months.”
“Geez… rob a few unicorns, nobody treats you with any respect.”
“Do you deny the charges?”
“Oh, of course not. No, those thefts were all me.”
“Uh-huh. Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way… I have to say, I’m having a little bit of trouble believing that.”
“Why? Is it because of the wings?”
“More, I’d like to know why you’d go to all that trouble… and then just give yourself up like this.”
“Well… that’s a bit of a story. But… I can’t do it anymore. She… well, you know how it is.”
“She?”
“…”
“What, the sun? The princess? Okay, colt, you’re clearly a bit touched in the head, but we can—”
“This statuette is… well, was, the prize of Jet Set’s art collection. Doesn’t look like much, but I believe it’s got a fantastic history behind it.”
“Wait, how did you—”
“This was one of the rather impressive pieces of carved crystal from Blueblood’s vaults. Fairly tacky and not nearly as useful as I’d hoped… unfortunately, most of the individuals who would be willing to buy it already have grudges against me.”
“Why wasn’t he searched before he came in here?”
“He was, sir! He didn’t have anything on him!”
“And this… is a piece of tile from next to the royal treasure vault. Taken last night. I was careful not to damage it… it’s from just behind the torch sconce to the left. Probably not worth more than a couple bits by itself, but I just thought I’d make the point – I’d already given up by that point, but I figured you might have a hard time believing me.”
“…”
“…”
“You. Go check the vaults. Tell the captain.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to distract you or anything, you don’t need to worry. I haven’t touched the vaults. I’m here to give myself up.”
“…Why?”
“…She told me to.”
“…”
“It’s the truth.”
“…Start at the beginning.”
“Well…”
~-~-~-~
It was going to be the greatest heist he’d ever pulled, and it was going to put the name of Blank Slate down in history.
Or, more accurately, it was going to put the idea of Blank Slate down in history.
The beginning of Canterlot’s greatest loss was, naturally, entirely unnoticeable. The afternoon court was in session, and the petitioners filing in to the castle halls included among their number one Feather Stroke, a pale blue pegasus stallion with a yellow mane and tail, wearing a smart suit and carrying a small bag, with a thick quill pen for a cutie mark.
The guards gave this exactly as much attention as it deserved, being very nearly none at all.
As the petitioners filed in one by one, and the afternoon drew on towards dusk, the pegasus in question fidgeted and sighed, before finally appearing to give in, leaving his place in the queue and heading towards the clearly signed restrooms, clearly heard muttering that he would come back and try another day. Some sympathy was heard from the other petitioners, but those behind were hardly traumatised by the sudden if slight jump forward in line, and soon, the business-stallion Feather Stroke was all but forgotten.
And once in the restrooms, he ceased to exist.
After a quick check to ensure the room was entirely empty, the stallion reached into his case and hung a sign on the door advising the room was closed for cleaning, and giving directions to the nearest alternative. The door was locked, a healthy splash of water was applied to the floor, leaking a little under the entrance, and he had the room to himself for a while.
With speed and skill brought from long practice, he stripped the suit off, hung it from one of the cubicles, then pulled out supplies from his bag. First he splashed water quickly across his coat, pulling out a wide brush rapidly brushing through the now-sodden fur and feathers – and as he did, the colour of his coat changed, darkening from pale blue to a deeper hue as the powder was washed out.
Most telling, however, were the edges of the quill on his cutie mark, which blurred away before running off altogether with the rest of his colour, leaving him with nothing more than a thick white line angling across each flank.
From there, he pulled out several small jars of powder, applying one liberally to his newly soaked coat, which dulled the vibrant azure to a more subtle grey-blue. Carefully brushing down his coat to ensure the colour was even, he then opened another jar and started work on his mane and tail.
By the time he was done, the stallion was hardly recognisable as the same pony. Apart from the change in coat colour, his previously slicked mane and tail were now a deep orange, and done up tight and close with care. A few quick lines of makeup on his face added ten years. His feathers were carefully rustled and re-preened – making a difference likely none but a pegasus would ever notice, but thoroughness was key.
Then, with expert care and precision and a series of small paints, he turned to his cutie mark, and brushed on a series of deeper greys, turning the blank white stick into a feather duster, first on one flank, then the other.
One final check-over for anything missed – nothing was – and he spread his wings, applying a little bit of pegasus weather magic to dry everything off rapidly. He grabbed the suit, turning it inside-out with a few quick movements, and in seconds the smart business suit had turned into a simple but well-made servants’ uniform, indistinguishable from any in the castle.
He grinned. Most unicorns could not have made the switch with such speed.
A few seconds with the mop hidden in the janitor’s closet to clean up the last of the mess on the floor, and out from the room stepped Dusty Wind, devoted servant of Canterlot Castle.
~-~-~-~
“Not exactly feeling the guilt between the bragging. Three different names already.”
“Oh do come now, officer. You cannot fault a stallion for being proud of his special talent.”
“So you slipped past all the disguise protocols—”
“Because all the ‘protocols’ are looking for magic. That’s how things work in Equestria, ’specially in Canterlot – whenever somepony thinks of how to do something outside of the norm, they think of doing it with magic. If you’re going to disguise yourself, you do it with magic.
“But that’s got a whole set of problems, starting with the fact that it’s magic. Any half-decent spellcaster who suspects something can sniff it out and pick it up. Some of ’em round here can probably do it without trying. And everypony’s got changelings on the brain, so the moment anypony thinks ‘that’s a disguise’ they’ll do a quick dispel, and then you’re busted, whether you’re a bug, a unicorn, or a pegasus.”
“But you use more mundane means?”
“You can do very nearly as well, if you’ve got the skill, the resources, the patience. And if you’re lucky, the special talent…”
~-~-~-~
And so it was that Dusty Wind moved through the palace with determination, carrying his case and going completely unnoticed like any good servant would. Evening was falling fast, the magical torches on the walls lighting in response to the fading light in the windows.
The castle was not nearly as filled with visitors at this hour; the afternoon court had just finished up, and the actual residents would be soon gathering for dinner, with the night court due to begin shortly afterwards. Thus it was towards the more residential side of the structure he now went, soon finding himself winding between other servants, guards, and the occasional nobility, all of which paid him absolutely no attention at all.
He had to struggle to keep a straight face as he ducked out of the way of a particular noble who strode down the corridor like a raging train, his expression and hoofsteps like thunder. He had been the most recent ‘donor’ to the thieves’ hoard, and after being heard bragging about the exceptional new security spells and measures applied throughout his home.
~-~-~-~
“That’d be Blueblood, then?”
“Oh yes.”
“He’s been making our lives Tartarus since then, y’know.”
“From what I’d heard, he was doing that long before I came into the picture.”
“…”
“But the unicorn nobility are great! All installing these brand new tricks and traps, all designed to catch a unicorn thief. What threat could us petty little peasants without horns be to them, right?”
“…”
“I know, you’re being recorded, you’re not allowed to say what you think about them. You don’t have to say a thing, I can see it on your face.”
“Please keep to the confession.”
“Well, fine. So, yes, the nobles are idiots, but some ponies are a little more worrying.”
~-~-~-~
Three corridors later, he ran into the captain of the guard.
Literally.
He bounced off the larger pony’s armour, nearly falling and barely even slowing the warrior’s momentum. His case burst open, sending knick-knacks flying. He did the only reasonable thing in the situation, bowing his head and grovelling, spouting apologies to the armoured unicorn.
The heavy-built, grey-coated unicorn gave him a quick disapproving stare, then lit his horn. Dusty froze as he felt himself lifted in the air slightly, heart leaping into his mouth as deep blue magic washed over him.
The captain then frowned, and even through the glow surrounding him, Dusty could spot additional glows briefly lighting up across pouches and pockets in the stallion’s uniform.
After confirming that everything was in place, the captain let him down, the glare fading as he scooped up the fallen items and packed them back in Dusty’s case.
“Be more careful, yes?” The captain even gave him a smile. “If you go running into the nobles like that, they’ll try and have your wings plucked.”
“Yes sir, it won’t happen again, sir. Thank you!”
The captain nodded and moved on, and soon enough, so did Dusty.
Once the soldier was out of sight, he changed direction, grinning widely to himself. The captain was paranoid – that much was to be expected, given the latest attempts. He had no doubt that he’d just had a disguise-stripping spell applied, and the soldier knew enough to suspect potential pickpocketing.
Of course, he had no idea what had indeed just been stolen from him.
One of the gems that had ever-so-clumsily fallen from the case still glowed with a soft, deep blue light.
~-~-~-~
“What did you do to the captain?!”
“Nothing! Nothing, wow, calm down. No, it’s what the captain did for me.”
“Explain!”
“I’m getting to it!”
~-~-~-~
The next step was the barracks.
Servants are needed everywhere, and that makes them invisible. Perhaps once doing this might have given him pause, but the smooth confidence, the impression that the pony is supposed to be there, is the most important part of the illusion.
Dusty slipped through the doors of the barracks and walked straight past a dozen guards in the mess hall, cleaning and straightening as he went. Rubbish was picked up; trays and discarded food stacked and returned; the most attention he got was a muttered thanks from the occasional guard.
Then he moved to the wall. The roster on the wall was posted in clear view, attached haphazardly by pins. Ever the dutiful servant, the cleaner went through the sheets, ensuring that only the most recent documents were where they were supposed to be, and that they were properly ordered.
And as he passed by that night’s roster, a gem slipped into his wing, pressing it against the sheet briefly. And as he moved down the row, the name assigned to guard duty on the vaults tonight now read “Feather Shaft”, with the stamp of a recent update displayed…
~-~-~-~
“Right, I’m going to have to stop you there.”
“I had a feeling you might.”
“Gem?”
“How’s your background on magical items?”
“…”
“Right. Well, I’ve got a… had a partner. I’ve tried to get him to turn himself in too, but he’s… holding back for now, and I’m not going to drop him in hot water. Let’s call him… ‘First Principle’, for ease of discussion. But, he knows his enchantments. Best in the business – ’least, that somepony like me is likely to work with.”
“Convenient.”
“You don’t become the terror of Canterlot without a few tricks hidden in your feathers! But yeah. He does magic items – examining, understanding, and making ’em. I supply the components, he makes the shinies. Get it?
“So one of the real useful things you can do is just sort of seal a spell in a gemstone. Real expensive, you need some real quality gems, a lot of effort… but once it’s done, anypony could use it, even an earth pony. The gem casts the spell.
“Not real common, y’know, since most of the folks who can afford the sort of gems and effort required are unicorns anyway. But for somepony like me… well, sometimes you just need that magic touch.”
“…Alright. I’ll be having that investigated. Now, you’re telling me you edited the roster?”
“Was probably the easiest thing I did.”
“Look, you can’t tell me you just went and did that and nopony noticed.”
“Okay. It was a very slight risk, depending on the character of whoever I was replacing. If they really wanted that shift? They might go and complain, then I’d probably not get in that night.”
“But there are measures put in place…”
“Yes. There’s an extra copy of the rosters in the captain’s room, probably a couple more, which means that anyone who tampers with them would be caught when questions started being asked – but they probably wouldn’t be noticed until they were working the paysheets. Then questions would start being asked. Days too late. Y’know, I should probably be charging you consultation fees for this…”
“So you’re telling me you put an imaginary guard in place so the vault wouldn’t be guarded? There are patrols, they’d notice there wasn’t a guard there.”
“Oh, that was only the beginning. Next…”
~-~-~-~
Dusty stood before the next obstacle in his path – a large door in a long corridor, where few had reason to tread. The door was simple but wide, well-reinforced, in a similarly wide corridor. The smell of old smoke had worked its way into the walls, from the blacksmiths down the corridor, and—
~-~-~-~
“Wait, you’re talking about the Guard storeroom?”
“Really? Oh, I’m glad to know what that door leads to.”
“What did you—”
“I’m TRYING to tell the story here, if you’re done interrupting.”
~-~-~-~
The door to, yes, the storeroom stood before him, strong enough to withstand assault by a squad of earth ponies bucking, and that was before the magical defences were taken into account.
Of course, it didn’t matter how strong a door was, if you had the key.
With a determined grin, he pulled out another gem, this one holding a simple opening spell…
~-~-~-~
“…”
“What, not going to argue with that?”
“Nope, I’m once again convinced you’re crazy, and seeing how deep you want to dig yourself.”
“Awww, you’re no fun anymore.”
“If any unicorn could come and open things with a basic opening spell, we wouldn’t exactly be trying to protect them, would we?”
“Nope! Especially with changelings around, right?”
“…”
“I know you’re hardly going to discuss it with me, but I already know. Changelings can transform, they can imitate, and the last thing we need is enemies where only friends should be. But what they can’t do is copy another pony’s magical signature.
“So all the sensitive locks got replaced with new ones, that detect magical signature. Only Authorised Ponies May Pass. It’s efficient! It’s simple! Pain for us non-unicorns, but what can you do?
“So you’re right. I couldn’t open that door. But your captain could.”
“…Yes, the captain would have access to most places in the palace.”
“And if you remember, I ran into him earlier…”
~-~-~-~
Another gem was pulled from the pack, this one with a deep blue glow remaining around it.
Carefully, Dusty manipulated the two gems in his wings, pushing them together, aiming at the door, and willed the spell within the gem to cast.
The spell twinkled over the door, the same blue aura surrounding the frame… and then clicked, opening without issue, revealing within the storehouse of the Royal Guard, with all its spare weapons and armour, ready for use.
~-~-~-~
“Horseapples.”
“Nope! It’s brilliant. That gem is one of First Principle’s most amazing ideas. Stores the magic signature of anypony who casts on it.”
“If that was possible, somepony would’ve discovered it around here by now.”
“Oh, they probably have. But that’s the trick – it stores the magic signature of anypony who casts on it. So if a unicorn tried to cast a spell through it, it’d pick up their signature, and at best you’d end up with a muddled mix – completely useless for locks.
“But if you use the gems… the gems don’t have a signature. They’re just the spell pattern. So…”
“Urrrgh… this is giving me a headache. So what the hell did you think you were going to do with a storeroom full of armour? Can’t have been a distraction, otherwise I would’ve heard about it.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I needed to be Feather Shaft.”
“Hah! Now you’re bluffing.”
“Am I?”
“Of course.”
“Because nopony can use the royal armour except a Royal Guard, right?”
“…”
“Unless…”
~-~-~-~
Dusty stripped out of the cleaner’s outfit once more, and went to work. A gentle dust of yet another powder moved him from grey-blue to a full dark grey. His mane and tail were removed from their bindings, and flipped aside, the careful layering he had previously applied to show only the deep orange now showing a combination of orange and red, the orange looking far lighter compared to the previous mane.
The feathers of the duster on his flank were quickly blended into the general grey of his coat, and a few more quick strokes soon changed the white line into the image of a spear. Dusty Wing was gone, and now Feather Shaft packed away his equipment and picked up the armour.
Now came the biggest risk of this whole deployment.
He picked one of the pegasus models from the storeroom, quickly slipping into it as quietly as possible.
Once he had the full outfit in place, he took a deep breath, pulled out one more gem from his pack – the largest and most complicated he had brought, filled with a spell that his partner had reverse-engineered. Focusing its power once more through the signature-warping spell, the spell was cast.
~-~-~-~
“Oooh, yeah, you get it. I can see you going pale even through the illusion. You believe me now.
“It’s not exactly a secret there’s all sorts of enchantments on the armour. I mean, there’s a few crazies out there who still think Celestia’s got a clone factory that pumps out white-coated blue-maned beefy stallions, but… well, any thief worth his salt’s gotta think ‘if I could get me one of those uniforms, nobody’d ever figure out it was me.’
“I’m guessin’ you’ve caught a whole mess of stupid thieves that way. But First got his hooves on a set of old royal armour, and gotta say, he was impressed, and he don’t impress easily. Lotsa fun little tricks in that plate.
“But there’s traps, too, right? I mean, the easy one’s that the higher-up Guards can see straight through the illusion. So anypony trying to be a specific guard, or who don’t look like a guard at all underneath? Easy pickings.
“But then you got the sneaky stuff. First said he wouldn’t even have noticed if he wasn’t already studying magical signatures. The armour’s bound to its owner’s signature, and if anypony else tries to wear it, it sets off an alarm. You run into any other guard, they’ll know what’s up straight-off, and you’ll never know what hit you until you’re under arrest.
“So First said he couldn’t even dream of messing with that stuff. The armour he had was already bound, it was useless. But what he could figure out was the process of binding, or at least he thought so.
“It was the biggest risk of the whole shebang. We couldn’t test the spell, we had no idea if it worked. If he was right, the spell would activate, and the armour would bind to me as if the captain had formally assigned me to the guard himself.
“If he was wrong, I’d never know until it was too late.”
~-~-~-~
White of coat and gold of armour, a spear held carefully in the crook of one wing; stern of expression and rigid of posture, one of the mighty pegasus stallions of the Royal Guard strode confidently down the halls of the palace.
It wasn’t until he had passed by at least a dozen other guardsmen – including one lieutenant – without a second glance – that he finally let himself breathe normally again, though it was only long practice that kept him from wildly laughing out loud.
He made his way to the barracks – still having to suppress a slight hitch at the idea of walking into a room full of guards in the potentially treacherous enchanted armour – but strode in with the same feel of purpose and inevitability all the guardsmen took on. With a grunt, he wandered over and checked the roster.
Feather Shaft was somehow not entirely surprised to see himself assigned to guard duty on the vaults tonight.
He smiled inwardly, and went to get a quick dinner before his shift started.
~-~-~-~
“Tampering with guard armour like that…”
“Oh, as if it’s going to add anything on to the trouble I’m already in.”
“You’d better be giving that armour back.”
“What, you don’t think I’d make a good guard?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
“Well, nopony stole anything from the vaults while I was guarding. Better track record than some recently!”
“Yes, well, I think you were about to explain that…”
~-~-~-~
Feather Shaft sat alone as the moon slowly rose, a single guard before the doors to the vaults that held many of the valuable treasures of the Princesses.
When he had done his preliminary investigations, this fact had shocked him. In truth, these were not the most truly valuable treasures of Equestria – of course, anything that was truly powerful and valuable would be locked away beyond the reach of any mortal – but when it came to the jewels, gold, and generally impressive shinies that every noble needed, sometimes it simply wasn’t expedient to require wings and a horn in combination for every entry. There were treasures in there with names, things that would be recognised – and recognised to be missing.
But the door was locked to the entry of only a few ponies, and stood within earshot of no small number of other rooms with many more guards, and was hardly easily accessible in the first place. Any attempt to overpower the guard would almost certainly lead to ten more guards appearing long before anypony could get much further; the rooms of the princesses themselves were not that far away either, and they would be able to feel and respond to any major magicks brought forth.
Any pony who could overcome that level of threat would likely have little use for the treasures kept within.
So it was fortunate that nopony would be attempting to overcome any guards tonight.
The palace was still winding down for the night, the ponies with reason to be in this area slowly trickling down to a stop. Feather Shaft stood at guard-like attention, barely more than part of the furniture, his eyes looking around the room carefully for any advantage he could spot while his mind whirled with the next step of the plan.
Like the guard armour, this was one of the really nasty unknowns in the system. They knew the vault door had another magic-signature lock, much like the guard storeroom; if it had anything beyond that… well, he had a few extra tricks ready to work, magical and mundane alike.
Regardless, however, he expected that even given that, he would likely have only minutes to work with once the vault was opened. It would be a quick job, grab the most valuable things he could find… and then what happened after that would depend on how much alarm was being caused.
If there was no alarm, the best solution was one few would ever think of. The tower he stood in had a beautiful view over the river that flowed through the city of Canterlot, and then over the mountain. A sackful of sturdy treasure – concealed, shielded and guided with a little magic – could make its way into the river, and then be located and collected downstream with ease.
However, far more likely was that his presence would be noted, in which case he would have to conceal the ill-gotten gains within the castle while appearing to assist in the search for the intruder, which—
“Good evening, Cuckoo Cloud.”
~-~-~-~
“Cuckoo Cloud?”
“…”
“Who’s Cuckoo Cloud?”
“…”
“Bl—”
“Cuckoo Cloud… was a colt. A long way away. A stupid, little blank flank colt in a stupid little village without a talent or a plan.”
“What?”
“And one day, after he found his talent, he vanished, and nobody had heard of him for fifteen years. Not my friends. Not my allies. Not First. I almost forgot that name existed. Understand?”
“Who…?”
~-~-~-~
Shaking out of his shock, in horrified confusion, he turned his head to the side to see the speaker…
…and then up.
…and up.
Into the smiling visage of the Princess of the Sun, surrounded by a faintly glowing, wafting ethereal mane, as she sat beside him, her presence like the warm summer sun shining straight onto his soul.
He gaped, his mouth working, but not a sound emerging. The princess just smiled at him.
She knows who I am. Oh Cele— I mean, um…
“I’m glad to see we have an extra-vigilant guard on duty here tonight,” she continued, a brilliant mid-afternoon bask.
Not even First knows that name!
“It’s an important position, protecting the treasures of our nation. Especially these days…” She sighed quietly, looking away, the shining afternoon clouding over. “I’m sure you’ve heard that there have been many unfortunate thefts lately throughout the city.”
PRINCESS CELESTIA KNOWS WHO I AM.
“It’s… very unfortunate,” the princess murmured sadly. “Equestria is a wonderful nation, but despite my best efforts, there are still some ponies that need to turn to crime to survive. We do our best to help them whenever possible. But there’s nothing that disappoints me more than knowing that there are ponies who turn to crime without truly needing to… hurting other ponies without real reason.”
I am so very, very dead. He gaped again, staring at the princess beside him, as she wistfully stared away. The princess, responsible for both the nation and the celestial cycles, effectively a god among ponies, and…
“It’s something I’ve always found hard to understand. And if there was anything I could do to discourage it further, I would.” She sighed, turning back to him, the sunlight now clouded over entirely, as he prepared to be teleported to the dungeon, or the sun…
“But I want you to remember – no pony is beyond redemption. There’s always another chance, always a better way to use their talents. Do you agree?”
All he could do was nod his head, the actual message too huge to truly take in. She’s… not going to…?
And she gave him another smile, the sunlight breaking through the cover once again as she gazed down at him proudly, warming him down to the tips of his hooves.
“I’m glad. Good luck, Cuckoo Cloud.” She stood. “But I don’t think you’ll need it. I don’t think there will be any problems at the vault with somepony like you standing guard, will there?”
Before he could formulate a response, she was gone, leaving only the fading memory of warmth against his armour.
And Feather Sha—
And Blank Sl—
…And Cuckoo Cloud stood before the vault, guarding it fiercely, until he was relieved in the morning, and nopony dared try to open it.
~-~-~-~
“…And that’s it. Went back to base, talked with First, told him to clear out, and came here.”
“…”
“What, not going to say I’m crazy again?”
“…Nope. No, that story sounds… hahh… entirely too believable.”
“Heh. Sounds like you’ve seen this sort of thing happen before.”
“I really can’t discuss—”
“Ha!”
“So… Why didn’t you use your real name?”
“…Foal steps. Still going to be a long time before I get used to that again.”
“Right… Well, obviously this will have to be confirmed… but I guess… if the princess promised something like that… we’ll see what’ll happen.”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll veto what the nobles were threatening me with if I was caught, at least… Well, I hope so, anyway. I think I could find some way to use my talents to make it up, if the princess is willing to give me a second chance…”
“Well, she’s pretty big on second chances. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, one way or another…”
Author's Note
Edited 13/9/14 - thank you Cerulean Starlight, and the various folks in the comment section, who pointed out my fails.
Important note for all authors - Never think that you've self-edited something to perfection. You haven't.
