R.I.P. Bloodlines

    Two pegasi sat in a small cabin, one a blue stallion and the other, a grey mare. They shared a nervousness expressions. Hooves tapped against wooden floorboards and wings shifted. The sound of heavy raindrops hitting the roof outside echoed through the small cabin filling the silence that choked the air. Tension hung like a some reaper ready to strike some cursed soul as the pair waited. Above them a pair of vivid, violet eyes watched in rapt attention, unawares of the form that hung between twin rafters.

    The door to the cabin flew open and a unicorn burst inside. Thunder rent the night as if to beckon the unicorn's appearance. Her chest heaved as she slammed the door shut. Water dripped from dark red fur as she trudged toward the pair.

    "Is it done?" The stallion asked as he stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly.

    "Yes," the mare said. She whipped her waterlogged purple mane out of her eyes.  Her body language was opposite the other two as calm radiated from her features. "Dr. Good Feel is dead." She chuckled and a cruel smile crossed her muzzle. "Shame he struggled too. Then again he did have a pole through his chest."

    The pegasi shared another expression, disgust. One even went a shade of green not unlike freshly cut grass.

    "Ms. Steel Edge," a voice hissed from above, startling the trio below. It was a chilling sound like a raven's screech on a moonless night. "Quite the record you have. Sixteen kills this year alone. I must say you were difficult to track. Then again hit-ponies often are."

    "You brought cops?!" the red mare hissed. The pegasi stepped back, their heads shaking fervently in tandem.

    "N-no we didn't," the mare stammered," We had no idea she was here."

    A gaunt slate grey earth pony mare jumped down with deft ease, her dark brown heavy coat rustling behind her. She was haunting to behold in the low light. Her violet eyes held contempt as they bored into the trio. "They speak the truth," she said with that same haunting hiss," I trailed them here in hopes they would lead me to you." The mare chuckled, the sound akin to a rusty bell. "Tut tut never get a client that is nervous. They tend to make mistakes."

    Steel Edge smirked. The fool before her had given away her position to a killer, a skilled one at that. She slowly drew a knife from her own coat, her horn's glow masked by her dripping mane. "So what now hmmm?" She asked. "Because it looks like you've given away where you are and I'm in between you and the door."

    The mare snorted as if annoyed," Please you're skills are mediocre at best." A shiver ran visibly down the mare's gaunt form. "But kudos on the creative way you dispatch your quarry."

    "Lets get out of here!" The stallion yelled as he bolted for the door, the mare not far behind. They bumped into Steel, who was startled by the outburst.

    The red mare regained her footing and cursed. She turned to the earth pony, rage naked on her face, and lunged forward, a scream of rage in her throat and her knife at her side. The earth pony stepped to the side at the last moment. Sharp steel sliced through air and the grey earth pony tripped the unicorn up. Years of training showed as she skillfully caught herself and sliced at the mare a second time. Again the earth pony dodged with a lazy side step, only infuriating the assassin more. She growled and ripped her knife form the floor boards.

    "So who are you?" Steel asked, her blade returning to her side in a flash of white.

    "A sleuth nothing more," the earth pony said, shrugging indifferently. She made the first move this time as she closed the distance between them in two quick steps and sent a lazy right cross out. The unicorn easily blocked it but the cross became a feint. The assassin only watched in disbelief as the earth pony pivoted and sent a buck into her jaw. Her teeth clacked painfully and her vision went dark. She fell to the ground with a dull heavy thud.

    The earth pony smoothed out her grayish black mane and checked her watch. The whole encounter took one minute thirty seconds on the dot. Satisfied with her time she picked the body up and made for her destination, the rain feeling rather pleasant after having to stay in that musty cabin for hours.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

    "Hey captain you might want to see this."

    Iron Cuffs looked up at the scruffy sergeant. He was a massive earth pony with dark green fur and a black mane peppered with grey. He had just finished a fifteen hour shift and he was well ready for bed. He put his report aside.

    "What's going on sergeant?" he asked, his deep voice betraying his fatigue.

     "It's better I show ya Cap," the young sergeant started toward the front door.

    Iron decided to humor the young upstart. Outside tied up like a Hearth's warming gift was an unconscious red unicorn mare. A small plastic bag were taped to her horn. Iron had been on the force for a long time, even decades but he had to admit this was a first. The sergeant passed a note to him.

    "This was on her horn."

'This is the pony responsible for the murder of Essence Balm among many others. Evidence to this is in the plastic bag as well as a vocal recording of Ms. Steel admitting to the murder of Dr. Feel Good. The ponies that hired her are Falling Feather and Peachy Keen both pegasi that live at 223 east Brockstreet. You'll find Dr. Feel Good dead in the abandoned cannery at the lower docks in the slums, a pole through his chest.'

    Iron stared at the note in disbelief. He had thought Rest In Peace was a myth but here he was staring at the evidence proving his or her existence. He pulled the baggy up. A small manila folder sat inside. He passed the note to the young sergeant.

    A small crowd comprised entirely of police ponies had gathered on the precincts stoop. Iron thanked Celestia it was near midnight, and that no civilians were out and about.

     "Did anyone see the pony that had placed her hear?" Iron asked the assembly of officers. His answer came in the form of the uniformed ponies looking at each other, and the nervous shuffling of hooves.

    "Grand," he grumbled under his breath. His detectives had been on the case of Essence Balm for the better part of a week and if this was the killer then it was a blessing in disguise. "Lets get moving then. Get her in a cell and a blocker on that horn. I'm gonna look over this so called evidence. Hop to it ya lazy bunch."

    The officers scrambled to obey the captain.

    Across the city a grieving family of zebras awoke to the sound of a knock at their door. Upon opening the door they found a note attached to their door. It held only a single message.

'R.I.P. Essence Balm'

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

    Ingrid Raven Pie sighed in relief as she walked into the hotel lobby. She appeared gaunt, severe and hard as iron, her greyish charcoal mane and stone grey coat only amplifying this. Completing her image was a black quill with a single drop of blood hanging precariously form its tip stood out against her fur on each flank. A sense of accomplishment filling her soul. This was the part she hated though, when the case was ended. Now it was only wait before another murder popped up that would interest her. Ingrid was a patient mare though she could wait. She shrugged her damp heavy coat off and placed it on her back as she made for the stairs. The late night clerk waved her over just as she passed by.

    Tonight had been a good night for her. After a two month long venture she had finally caught that sorry excuse of a hit-pony. Her only saving grace was her skill at evading the law, and her creative ways of killing. Another shiver of delight ran down her spine at remembering the six kills she had come across left by Ms. Edge. Such imagination! She hadn't bothered tracking the pair that had hired her to kill the doctor. Didn't matter to her they didn't wield the knife, merely aimed it. Besides what she had found out about the doctor Good Feel, he was scum at best and better left to the crows.

    "Ms. Duster," she said pushing her slender frame glasses up," A letter arrived for you earlier." The clerk seemed tense around Ingrid but this was expected. She rarely smiled, preferring to appear deep in thought but to the outsider she came off as grim, severe, a trait she had picked up from her father. She had come to terms with the fact long ago that others found her haunting especially when they saw her talent mark. Not that she cared what others thought of her, it was why she never bothered with the ritualistic beauty techniques other mares used. The next case was all that mattered to Ingrid, besides family of course. She made a note to write her sisters when the chance showed itself.

    A curios expression crossed Ingrid's face as she accepted the plane white envelope. It held no a address, not even a stamp. Hoof delivered no doubt, she decided. She never got mail. Her chest tightened and she quickly thanked the clerk and rushed to her room. Inside she ripped the envelope open and began reading.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

‘Ms. Ingrid R. Pie,

I find myself in the need of your skills. It has come to my attention that within Canterlot ponies, no matter the station noble or common, have been disappearing for some weeks now. To avoid panic, particularly in the wake of the changeling invasion some weeks ago, I have kept this string of disappearances quiet. We have tried to track these ponies down but to no avail.

I have tracked your career for some time now, impressed by your results, though I am loath to agree with your preference to work outside the law. That aside I wish for us to meet at the Bannered Flagon in Canterlot. I believe you know of the bar I speak. There we will discuss matters further. Come by tomorrow at sunset.

With Regards,

Starry Skies

    Ingrid was very rarely shocked, surprised once or twice yes but never shocked. Large, searching violet eyes scanned the letter in her hooves, baffled by its very existence. Her features were neutral as she reread the letter, discerning anything she could from its contents.

     It was horn-written obviously, and the depth told Ingrid the writer’s confidence, even arrogance to a minor degree. The slants in several other letters marked a high intelligence and aged wisdom. This was expected but what caught her eye were the ends of sentences, punctuation. This letter’s scribe was of a playful nature. Whoever this Starry Skies was certainly had to have quite the skill to be able to track Ingrid down.

    For as long as the earth pony had been solving cases she had done them in her own timeframe, only starting them if they truly interested her, and she only focused on homicides. She felt drawn to murders, feeling them to be tales yet told.

    Some investigators, particularly within the government, would try to track her down from time to time but they would only find mocking whispers. A year ago one had come frightfully close but she had managed to shake him off. Ingrid had thought she had won that round but years of successful evasion had made her prideful. The second she had received the letter she made for the train staion the following morning. She cared little for the case, her passion being murders not foal-knapping. But she had been caught by this Starry Skies. The board was set, the pieces in place and her opponent had declared ‘Check!’. A small smile played at her lips as she looked out the window at the passing fields.

    It was her move.

    In the distance Canterlot, an alabaster monument branching proudly from the side of a lone mount, rose like a shining beacon from the horizon. How long had it been since she last visited the City of Magic? Not since her last case a year ago. Nostalgia filled the mare as she gazed at the rapidly approaching city, her smile spreading softly. Good times. With a breath she sat up and started pulling her saddlebags on, the letter going into a side pocket.

    The train pulled into the station and ponies piled out of the train cars in droves. Ingrid stepped out onto the platform and made for the exit. She weaved through the crown akin to a snake through grass. She looked to a massive clock above the station’s entrance. It was high noon and she had some time to kill before needing to get to her ‘meeting’.

    The scenic route then she decided. Within the streets it was very lively in the city. Ponies ran to and from on errands. Ingrid found her-self indulging an old hobby as she walked along at a leisurely pace. She spotted a young mare and stallion sitting across from each other at a café. The mare appeared obviously nervous while the stallion appeared confident. A slight shake in his hind knees told the opposite though. A first or second date to be sure. A beautiful snow white unicorn walked along trailed by a swarm of nobles. Her stride told of her common birth, straightforward in its way. Ingrid could swear she looked familiar.

    Ingrid almost laughed when she spotted a pickpocket weaving through the crowd. A flash of pink signaled the pilfering of another purse. Years of practice had obviously honed his skill. He got a good six purses before ducking into an alley. "Brava," the earth mare thought as she continued on, taking in the many sights on her way. Ingrid made it to the Common Wealth by the time sunset came around. Despite the lateness in the day the streets were still filled with the hoof-beats of fellow souls. Ingrid's lips twitched into a smile as she took in the sights. Canterlot was so alive! She loved the city for all its activity, and the mystery that lay underneath every encounter, every event.

    The air had cooled considerably making it refreshingly crisp. The warm aroma of a nearby bakery filled Ingrid’s nose. Trees that lined the center of the street held leaves of red, orange and bright yellow. The atmosphere reminded her of autumn evenings with her family. Nostalgia again pulled a smile from the grim looking mare. The streets here were narrower without being crowded. Vendors were beginning to pack up their stands for the night. The Bannered Flagon resided between an old storehouse and an antique shop.

    Ingrid eyed the pub’s sign, steeling herself. Within lay her quarry and, if she was honest, uncharted territory. Normally she was the one with all the cards but now… Giddiness rushed through her slender frame as the prospect of a challenge, again, filled her mind.  She was fairly certain she wouldn't be recognized. After all it had been a full year since she last worked here as a barmaid. She was glad the pub was still up and running. Only this time owner-ship had switched hooves through more legal means. With a cleansing breath she opened the door.

    The pub was alive with celebration as ponies conveyed the day’s events, worried about tomorrows and caught on with old friends. Barmaids ran between tight, packed tables, their backs holding orders. The scent of honeyed ale and rich berry wines permeated the air pleasantly. Violet eyes briefly scanned the room. Ingrid noted some of the patrons were sitting quietly a full mug sitting still between lax hooves. A purple hoof shot into the air as a mousy unicorn mare beckoned the severe mare over.

    Ingrid walked over in measured steps. Her quarry was homely in her features, barely noteworthy. Her magenta mane hung at her shoulders and her cutie mark was covered by the simple dress that formed to her slender figure. The tip of what was possibly a white crescent moon stood out just under the hem of the black dress. It wasn't uncommon for ponies in Canterlot, unicorns especially, to wear clothes on a more common basis. This mare looked unassuming at best but looks could be deceiving. A smile was plastered on her face, teal eyes sparkling. Ingrid’s first conclusion was correct. This mare held playfulness in those eyes as well as a veiled intelligence.

    “Ms. Pie,” the unicorn pushed a hoof forward, unwrapping itself from a mug of ale as it did so,” It’s so good to meet you in pony.”

    The tone was strong, and held a regality. The feel of one who commanded others was starkly apparent. The fur above Ingrid’s hind right hoof stood on end as she sat down at the table. Her Sleuth's Insight! A cheat she knew but everyone had their trump card. This mare was using a glamour spell. Glamour spells, from Ingrid’s experience, could change every detail of a pony's appearance if done right, except eye color and the caster's cutie mark. So this mare was a noble from what the letter entailed and quite possibly high in station. The majesty in her voice only cemented this.

    Ingrid’s mind ran though all other variables as to who this mare really was. Obviously noble and of high station. Ingrid stopped as she noticed Starry Skies' teal eyes, a truly rare color. She recalled one of her sister's letters . It had come with a photo of her friends with Princess Luna. Hindsight placed the last piece of the puzzle. The quiet ponies throughout the bar, seven in all, suspicious in such a high number. What's more they never touched their mugs. A violet eye cast an eye to one a table away, his back turned. The very tip of a leathery wing poked out from under his waistcoat. A thestral no doubt.

    Mere seconds had passed before Ingrid's hoof met that of Starry Skies. "Princess Luna," her features switching to smug triumph as she regarded the individual before her. "It is an honor.”