I've always disliked fall. Ever since I was a child the autumn season had meant that my summer adventures with my father would cease and the cold front of winter would approach and I'd rather it not come at all. All the snow and cold weather was horrendous. It created a hassle no one wanted to deal with and ruins the gardens and my regular Sunday strolls. Nevertheless winter is inevitable and I am forced to suffer through it, damn it all. Even now as I walk down these cobblestone streets towards the looming courthouse my face contorts in the fall breeze. I've already garnered a few stares from others walking down the street, but they're gawking is nothing compared to my impending misery in the snow.
I can see the orange, red, and golden leaves floating by off the trees. There are ponies with scarves, light jackets, the normal fall attire. They're chatting happily with one another, trading information, I think one couple is gossiping about a jeweler who'd had an affair with his mother's friend. Quite an explosive situation, but not out of the norm. There's a mare talking with to her waiter and by the sound of it, she's very lonely and very desperate. I can't help but feel sorry for her.
Ever since I was little I'd been blessed with extraordinary hearing. I could hear the tiniest of whispers and emotions seeping through the words spoken. It can be both a gift and a curse. There were times I've heard gossip about myself from classmates, strangers on the street, even my own family. I became extremely introverted, to the point my mother thought I'd need to see a therapist for this depressive disorder she'd come up with. My seclusion from society worsened when my father was murdered on the way back from dinner with my mother. I wasn't with them of course, it was their wedding anniversary so I had been staying with my aunt on the eastern side of the city. The murderer was another colt, the father of some low class commoner from Fillydelphia, his name was Cardicus if I remember correctly. He'd sworn that his father never killed anyone, that he was innocent, but I didn't believe him. I never believed him even to this day I refuse to believe it. Even when I heard the prosecutors mention the forging of evidence to put Cardicus' father away I denounced his innocence. I heard every proceeding in that courtroom, every mention of falsified evidence, ludicrous statements and testimonies that were as flimsy as pasta. It put a strain on our relationship at the time and it's a miracle we're friends at all.
The court found him guilty and they gave him life imprisonment. Unfortunately, the murderous filth escaped and hasn't shown his face ever since. Cardicus was left orphaned since they didn't know where his mother was, but the city's lead investigator for the case decided to adopt him. Magnia Fie was her name. She's retired now and if I didn't know any better I would've placed her at the top of Canterlot's elite. She was a very beautiful mare so it surprised everyone that she was a homicide detective. I've heard rumors she's broken many a stallion's hearts without any remorse. Either way after she took in Cardicus he decided to become a detective to ensure innocent ponies wouldn't be wrongfully punished like his bastard of a father. It's something we still argue about to this day, but I admire the noble goal he's set for himself. Magnia Fie took him to work cases with her almost every day, which, for a nine year old, was highly unethical. She garnered quite a bit of criticism for doing that, but she refused to leave Cardicus alone at her home. Her status as a single mare only added to her stress with some pressuring her to give Cardicus to a real foster home with a mother and a father. Magnia stood her ground though and eventually all the fuss about it died down, but I digress.
I hadn't meant to drift off topic as much as I did and it was only fitting that I would walk straight past the court-house where I was supposed to be meeting Cardicus-I mean, Detective Cold Case. I turned around rather shamefully, a cool fall breeze trying to swipe my scarf from my neck. Fortunately I had expertly wrapped the scarf around my neck to keep it from being stolen by the heinous season. The courthouse looms over me, four equally placed pillars holding up the front with a short staircase leading to the oak doors. It's dark brown exterior blends well with the autumn theme, which in turn makes it uglier.
As I begin to ascend the steps two ponies leave the courthouse. One is dressed in a black trench coat and flowing rosy mane while the other is dressed in business casual, a loosely tied necktie dangling over his baby blue collared shirt. I could hear their conversation before they'd even gotten outside.
"Well, all we gotta do now is hope the court does its thing and convicts this guy." The mare comments.
"Don't worry, Chief, I gave the prosecutor the evidence that'll put him away for life!" The stallion responds.
Suddenly the mare slaps him over the head with a hoof and brings him in close. I don't make eye contact at all and continue past them. They don't pay me any attention.
"I wouldn't worry if you didn't go around shouting things like that in public fool." She hisses.
"R-right. Sorry, Chief."
"Sorry doesn't cut it this time, you're buying the first round tonight."
"But I, er, fine." The stallion replied defeated.
It only figures the police would try to hide their corrupt actions. If it weren't for my immense hatred towards criminals I would have reported their dirty dealings to the Princess herself. Alas, if they did forge evidence the criminal must deserve the punishment for the police to go to such lengths for a conviction.
I open the doors to a lobby filled with ponies milling about with papers and documents for cases. All the whispering and talking drown each other out so I can no longer eavesdrop on their conversations. It's busier than usual here, I can only attribute that to the current case being held here. Supposedly, a stallion had murdered his mother after she had walked in on him doing rather lewd things to a filly he'd kidnapped. The vile creature then decided to murder the filly afterwards and hide both bodies in a lake nearby. A truly worthless and disgusting blight on society this one.
There's a sign directly ahead of me, right in between two sets of staircase leading to the second floor of the courthouse. I walked up to the sign and examined it for any information that might lead me to the correct galley the Detective asked me to go to. The sign was very simple to read, but alas it did not assist me in any way, shape, or form. The option closest to what I was looking for was simply titled galley with an arrow pointing upwards and to my right. I scoffed at how useless the sign was and trotted over to the front desk. As I approached, a young mare bumped into me, spilling her coffee on my leg, her hot coffee I should add. The first few sentences had already graced my ears when I yelped as quietly as I could. The offender to my health had small rectangular glasses and a stout snout accompanied by lifeless hazel eyes. Her brown coat was masked by the quite tidy and fitting white polo shirt she was wearing. Her mane was short and curt making her look more masculine than feminine. Her face was void of all emotion and she simply bent down to pick up her papers without so much as acknowledging my presence.
"Ma'am are you alright? Would you like a napkin or a tissue?" The receptionist asked.
"Please, if I may." I replied politely.
I gave the receptionist a warm smile, one that implied gratitude and nothing more. She handed me the tissue and smiled back. I took it and gave her my thanks and as I walked away I heard her whisper to herself 'I hope she's okay, that looked like it really hurt'. I glanced around for the mare that had injured me, but like a ghost she had disappeared into thin air. The receptionist must have been staring because under her breath she whispered to herself.
That's the fourth time this month already...when is management going to fire her? Not to mention how weird she gets wh-
Unfortunately the rest of the sentence was cut off as the lobby was now filled with whispers about my incident that had just occurred. I turned to find the galley the Detective was sitting in, but alas I still didn't know exactly which specific galley he had told me to go to. I looked back towards the receptionist as ponies glided right by me and contemplated going back and asking, however, it would make me look like a bumbling idiot running back and forth between the desk and the stairs here. On the other hand, I'd look like a lost child standing here staring down the two hallways on either side of me. One led down to the offices of whomever it was that worked in these damned places. Lawyers, prosecutors, judges, they were all the same corrupt judicial scum. The other hallway led to what I can only assume were the courtrooms. The scene for which these monsters incarcerated innocents and freed the criminals. I must've been making quite the face, as one of the bailiffs had tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was alright.
"Oh! Yes, I'm fine kind sir. I was just wondering where is the galley for courtroom seven?"
"Seven? It's up these stairs here. Then go right and it's the third door on your left."
"Thank you." I replied curtly.
"You're welcome! Have a good day Ma'am." The bailiff smiled politely.
He walked away normal enough, but I heard him murmur under his breath.
there are signs for a reason, idiot...
I held back a glare and turned my nose up and away. I did not have the time nor the tolerance for meaningless squabbles, especially ones over rude comments which didn't have any impact on me in the long run.
I found myself walking in a long hall with numerous doors on either side of me. It was completely silent, save for the faint voices of judges and defense attorneys, but even they were muffled by the thick doors. Being so accustomed to hearing everything, I stopped for a brief moment and closed my eyes listening to the silence filling my ears.
Most people take silence as something that needs to be broken, a thing that is cause for awkwardness and uncomfortable scenarios. Silence can even be menacing provided you have the correct situation to utilize it, but many of those ponies do not give silence the credit it deserves. To me, this is the greatest treasure the goddess herself could've given me. Very rarely do I find myself in these situations and more often than not I will savor every minute, second, millisecond of it's sweet bliss. It's almost like I'm entering another world, a personal heaven where I'm at peace with everything.
That personal heaven was shattered with the opening of the doors and thousands pouring from the first door on my left. A crowd filled the hallway and millions of voices hit me all at once. There's always a ringing in my ears after the initial burst, but once I acclimate to it the ringing goes away. All the conversations come to my ears all at once and I hear it all. The trial was about a...colt...murdered his bully on accident...charged with second degree...acquitted due to self defense. Seems as though the bully's mother was quite angered by the outcome.
Another exhilarating day at the courtroom. I can't understand the appeal this career has for Cold Case, but I digress.
I weave in and out between ponies talking about what they're having for dinner, who they're going to see, even what will be done in the bedroom later tonight. The suits blend in a rainbow of navy blue, black, and brown. Dresses adding a white, red, I think there's even a pink somewhere in the sea carrying me to my destination. The door in front of me is: large, dark oak, intimidating, as though it were a bouncer deciding if I were worthy enough to join the elite gathered behind it.
I open the door, entering into a silent galley. The prosecutor's voice bellows in the room with a mix of anger and enthusiasm. As I walk through the galley I hear murmurs arise as the spectators comment on the prosecution's argument and the defense's argument prior. I creep up the aisle, searching the seats for Cold Case and eventually spotting him in the middle of a row by himself about three rows back from the edge of the balcony. He always was anti-social. Perhaps that's why we get along so well. Either way, his short, black mane was easy to pick out amongst a crowd who look like everyday ponies. Even their clothing was appropriate compared to his leather coat draped over his maroon shoulder.
I walked over to him and he waves a hoof in greeting. I nod and sit down next to him and begin listening to the trial.
"Welcome to the party, Aurora." Cold Case said sarcastically.
"How could I resist a gathering this exciting." I replied in the same deadpan tone.
The prosecution yells something loud enough for most of the courtroom to hear. The spectators gasp in horror, and then roaring as the spectators begin discussing frivolously over what was just said. The judge bangs on his gavel and yells for order for which he finds none. Cold Case is undeterred by what was said, because he was the one who gave the prosecution the evidence used. Where other detectives would find a certain joy in getting their conviction, Cold Case was emotionless as he waited for the storm to subside. The sound of a judge desperately trying to restore order mixed seamlessly with the shouting of the crowds filling the courtroom with discord and noise.
They say silence is golden.
