A Study in Mint

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. Miss Heartstrings wrapped up our contract with an astounding ease, coming to terms that both we and our landlady could agree on. Judging from the amount of bits I carried with me, I would also be able to support myself for a whole more two months or so. It felt good, being independent like that.

During the next two weeks, days came and passed, bringing with them nothing out of the ordinary. Though I kept glancing at different papers or advertisements from time to time, I must admit that my efforts on receiving some employment would remain limited for a while. Unfortunately, one could say, my lazy nature had gotten the better of me. I spent most of my time slowly settling in, getting accustomed to Miss Heartstrings' unusual habits. The unpleasant thought of having to take charge of my life soon, wouldn't I want to be cast back out onto the streets, always resting in the back of my head.

Miss Heartstrings - who, after a few days under our mutual living conditions, insisted I call her Lyra - was of quite uncommon nature in almost every aspect. I can't say I've ever met somepony similar to her before. Yet, getting used to living with her turned out a lot easier than I expected it to be. Weren't it for her scientific experiments, the smell of rotten eggs constantly glued to them, or her obsession of playing the lyre up until three in the morning, I wouldn't have doubted her for a second. But even so, I managed to get used to my new life within a number of days or so.

Of course, Lyra didn't physically play her instrument . The strings would swing back and forth, animated solely by auras of her magic, hardly even touched by her hooves. I myself could never get myself to fully understand the magic abilities of unicorns. Being an earth pony, who grow up in a town with no unicorns present whatsoever, forces like these seem one of the most alien things ever encountered in life.

And still, once I first encountered magic, I quickly dropped every doubt I had about it. In their place stepped a feeling of sudden, but amiable fascination. While I naturally shouldn't call myself an expert on the theories of magic, I quickly observed my flatmate's abilities to be rather proficient, since there were a lot more spells than just simple levitation magic within her repertoire. In fact, Lyra seemed to come only somewhat short of mastering her skills. When asking her where she'd acquired that talent, I learned that she had in fact attended Celestia's school for gifted unicorns a number of years ago.

I also learned that she became a dropout by her own decision. While certainly admiring the strength and effects of her own magical gifts, as well as those of anypony else, Lyra never got herself to agree with the education methods she faced in Canterlot. Too many were based on a strictly organized, conservative system, which demanded an equally straightforward approach for everyone. The capital's elite education had been designed by the Princess herself, who, in my companion's opinion, was a complete and total idiot. Despite Celestia's willingness to help ponies make their way through life, Lyra Heartstrings preferred to walk down her own path.

Naturally, I was most startled when Lyra told me of her complete lack of respect for our ruler. I had certainly heard from ponies casually expressing some criticism directed towards Celestia's rule and person in my day. But none of it was ever so aggressively verbalized the way Lyra explained it. She didn't tell me where all these harsh opinions of hers originated from, just then. I suspected it to be somehow connected to her time in the capital, but it felt like there were some other factors I did not yet know about.

All those discoveries I made during the times in which Lyra was most talkative. Which she was on most days, anyway. At others however, she would remain fixed in her armchair, fixed in the same unnatural position I had found her in when first entering the apartment. An distant, watery look would surround her eyes, indicating that despite the mare's physical presence, her mind was wandering about elsewhere. She would sit like that for hours at a time, even days, without a bite to eat or a sip to drink. Even though we lived under one roof, and held all sorts of conversations every other day, this side of Lyra Heartstrings would remain a mystery to me for a long time.

Sometimes, she would suddenly interrupt her daily routine - if such a thing even existed - as well as mine, by politely urging me to retreat to my bedroom. Lyra reasoned there were ponies whom she called her clients to tend to, and she needed to use the living room as a sort of office. From the perspective given by my chamber's narrow window, I could often watch the ponies she described passing back and forth over our doorstep. They ranked from beggars and street urchins to respectful citizens from every part of town. The vast variety of Lyra's working partners brought a curiosity to my mind that was growing with every new pony I watched enter our home to somehow conclude business with her. When one day even a member of the Royal Guard appeared at 221B Bucker Street, I decided to confront Lyra about what it actually was she did.

"Consulting detective," the unicorn mare explained in a monotonous voice, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You probably haven't heard of the term before, but don't worry. It is quite rare, after all. I'm probably the sole pony in Equestria practicing this profession. I invented it, to be honest."

When I raised a questioning eyebrow, she continued: "What does that mean, you wonder. It's simple. Whenever ponies - be it ordinary citizens, the police, or even the royal guard - find themselves dealing with a situation or mystery they cannot resolve themselves, they come to me for advice. I solve the case for them, they pay me for my efforts, everyone's happy. Simple as that."

"And how is it that you're able to solve every puzzle they aren't?" I asked, curiously. "Pardon me, but you scarcely even leave the house. I mean, these ponies must have some more experience with their particular mystery than you do. They've had some practical connection to it, seen it all with their own eyes..."

"Also simple," Lyra interrupted me in a similar tone. "I get help from an uncommon set of mental skills in my possession, some of which you've already experienced yourself. While I obviously appear quite repelling to most ponies at first, my expertise allows me to do the work I love doing. As for not leaving home, there's a simple reason for that. Most cases are extremely basic, I might as well solve them without any first-hand experience. They bore me, I admit. I prefer those more complicated and enigmatic. But I do have to make up for my daily expenses in one way or another."

"So," I started, trying to carefully place my words. "Do I assume this correctly, if I say that you consider yourself a psychopath...of sorts?"

Lyra snorted, uneasily. "I prefer the term high-functioning sociopath," she returned. "While the phrase might sound like a the same thing to some, the dimensions between them stretch wider than the very universe we live in. 3.74 times, to be exact. Of course, I get strange looks and opinions for my choice of self-description, but after a while, it really just becomes another part of oneself. You have to get used to it, is all."

At that point, a brief amount of time passed, during which neither of us said a word. Considering my loss of words rather embarrassing, I avoided any direct eye contact with Lyra. I'm almost certain though that she didn't. I couldn't say whether she was even aware of these kinds of emotions and their existance.

"I should have another client coming around shortly," she suddenly proceeded without a warning. "If it wouldn't be much of an inconvenience, maybe you could..." she trailed off, motioning towards my bedroom door.

"That's alright," I answered with a partly fake smile. "I was going to leave for a walk, anyways."

Now, while I didn't trust Lyra in her entirety just yet, my last statement was in fact very sincere. I had hardly made any progress of getting to know my new surroundings up until now, and a light walk through Ponyville appeared like a good place to start. I hadn't done so since I first got here, and there were many streets and corners of the town I hadn't even seen, yet. In a way, I was also hoping I could learn more about that strange, giant tree-house, which I had first discovered upon my arrival.

Lyra quickly replied to my idea with a satisfied nod. Since I didn't have anything further tasks unfinished around the house, I decided to pack a few bits in a saddlebag, and head for the outside immediately. Her clients usually didn't stay for longer than thirty to forty minutes, so I assumed that, even after a short walk, I could easily return home whenever I felt like it. And even if I happened to drop into some kind of private conversation, I could still quickly retreat to my bedroom. Lyra certainly wouldn't be able to blame me, if I did. After all, this was as much my apartment as it was hers.

As I slammed the door to 221B Bucker Street close behind myself five minutes later, I stopped for a moment before proceeding any further towards the street. Closing my eyes, I calmly drew in some of the nearby woods' fresh air in through my nostrils. It was only two in the afternoon, so there was still plenty of time to make all the visits I had planned for. I figured I might as well take a short glimpse at the neighboring forest, first of all. Natural forests were a rare sight back home where we didn't have any trees, safe for two artificially planted apple orchards. Each of them located on the western and eastern outskirts of town, respectively.

Reaching the northernmost end of Bucker Street, I took another left turn, and headed into Park Road. While it had a number of houses and cottages lined up to the southern side, the opposing one was left mostly to its natural cause. One could easily get a clear view of the forest, formed by a vast diversity of trees. The first of which stood just a few feet apart from the road. It took me a while getting used to the sight, until I would constantly spot all sorts of birds and critters rushing back and forth between countless tree trunks and branches.

I was able to enjoy this fascinating panorama for a few more minutes, since I had to cover a certain distance to reach the next street that reached back into town. As I headed for the three-way junction, I turned south and headed towards the city's central district. My excitement quickly got dampened around these parts. As opposed to the outskirts, there was hardly anything special to see around here. The suburbs of Ponyville and Appleloosa seemed to look very much alike, despite the slightly different climate.

It took another number of turns, for a whole more forty-five minutes, making my way to the town center. Since I hadn't thought about a good place to start exploring, I decided to first wander towards the great tree that had caught my attention earlier. Funny enough, during a whole two weeks the thought of getting more information about it hadn't crossed my mind even once. Which reflected on my lack of recent productivity all too well, I'm afraid.

Since I didn't exactly have a map of the city at hoof, I got my directions from keeping in mind the locations of Sugarcube Corner, and the train station, knowing the tree had to be somewhere in between. But before I even got there, I was able to catch a glimpse of the tree itself. Given its size, it easily stood out between the comparatively low rooftops. It really should have occurred to me sooner.

The tree still bewildered me the same way it did when I first arrived here. Whatever residents occupied it must have had quite a reputation around town. Though I usually knew better than to interrupt any stranger's peace, I could think of no other way feeding my curiosity than to take a look up close. I approached the tree's artificially implanted entrance door, crossing the open space left around the plant, and knocked a few times. To my surprise, I found the door unlocked. As it opened, I caught an intricate first view of the inside.

Between numerous bookshelves, arranged in a large circle on the first floor, stood, hovered, and walked several ponies of all ages and races. It took me a moment to realize that this was obivously a public place, something I hadn't quite expected. None of those present seemed to pay much attention to my entrance, however. There wasn't any reception either, so I went past relatively unnoticed. Somewhat discouraged, I decided not to stay for long. Then again, having come all the way to the town library, I figured I might as well take a look at whatever kind of books it had to offer.

To be plain, I mostly checked for a few volumes suiting my general interests. Given the library had a notable collection on every regular field of knowledge, combined with its neat organization, these weren't very hard to find. None of those about the confectionery arts and crafts told me anything I didn't already know, unfortunately.

And neither had I come here today for nothing but reading some non-informative books. Reminding myself of that, I restrained from looking at any more, longer passages. I told myself that I needed to get on my way, if I wanted to look for employment or meet some other ponies. None of those around here, who were mostly consumed in there studies, did I expect to be very talkative at the moment.

In an effort to clean up behind myself, I got up on my hindlegs, pushing the books I'd taken off the shelves neatly back in place. Just as I turned to make for the door, a brown-coated stallion cleared his throat, as he approached me.

"Excuse me...Miss Bon Bon, am I right?" he asked. I felt an unpleasant feeling of surprise rise up in my stomach as he spoke.

"Yes, I am," I answered, trying to sound as polite and confident as possible. "Can I help you?"

"Well," he continued, deliberately avoiding eye contact. I couldn't help but notice his accent, which - similar to Mrs Yearling's - probably derived from somewhere around Trottingham. "Not myself, exactly. I'm here on official duty, you see. I'm supposed to let you know that your presence is requested somewhere else."

"Where?" I asked him, dumbfounded. I agree, it wasn't the most well-composed response I could manage.

"Somepony down at the railroad station," he replied. "High-ranking official, it seems. Never met him before, but for some reason he preferred to be quite subtle, which is why he sent me after you."

"And who exactly are you, then?" My brow furrowed in accordance to my skeptical tone.

"Nopony of importance," he told me. "My name is Time Turner, if you need to know. On normal days, I'm investigating for the local law enforcement. And my apologies for this inconvenience, but I'm just obeying orders. I don't know what this meeting is all about, and frankly, I don't care. If you would do me the favour of meeting my superior at the station, we shouldn't have any future troubles."

Though unsettled by his extremely shaky, and hasty approach, I thanked Mr. Turner before heading back outside. Once there, I rolled my eyes with a groan. After just a short while living in Ponyville, I appeared somepony secretly wanted to meet me. A mare in my position really couldn't afford the gossip that would follow, which was why I felt awfully frustrated right them. Frowning, I turned my steps towards the nearby station, hoping to quickly get it over with.

I entered the station hall, finding before me the same scenery as I had on my first arrival. Only about half a dozen travelers had spread out all across the room, either standing in line for their ticket, or waiting for their transportation to arrive. Given only trains from either Appleloosa or Dodge Junction passed through here, Ponyville station was only a moderately active place.

Of all the ponies in the room, I especially noticed a terribly overdressed unicorn stallion sitting in the waiting area. He cast a meaningful glance at me on my entrance, one, which I mistrustfully returned. Assuming he was the one who called me here for whatever reason, I started moving in his direction. All the while, his carefully combed and cleaned out, blonde mane came second only to his pompous attire. An expensive collar with a black bow tie hung around his neck, one single rose stitched to it. Part of me hated him already, another one criticized myself for even bothering to come here.

"Please, have a seat," he said, as soon as I got into hearing distance, standing only a few feet away. With a motion of his hoof, he pointed towards the empty space beside him.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "What are you on about?" I asked, letting all my doubt flow into my voice, hoping he would somehow realize how much of an annoyance he was at this time. The sooner he would, the better.

"Have a seat," he replied in an increasingly stern voice. "I insist."

It all seemed like he wouldn't let me off the hook that easily. Of course, I could also just walk away, but rudeness has never been among my virtues. Sometimes, I wish it was. Audibly exhaling in my frustration, I gave in to his demands, and sat down. Once sitting, I hoped to speed up the conversation, and soon be done with it. "Why am I here?" I asked.

"Good point," he said. "The reason for your presence here is, say...a mutual friend of ours. My apologies for our rather delicate place of meeting, but I'm not somepony who likes to raise a lot of attention. Especially not whenever dealing with Lyra Heartstrings." My eyes widened a good deal when he mentioned that name. I was all but prepared for it, to say the least. And unfortunately, he seemed to notice.

I decided to keep quiet for the moment, letting him complete his narrative.

"Here's where you come in. You see, despite her uncommon nature...or more as a result of it, actually, Lyra tends keeping to herself. You two share a flat, which brings you closer to her than anypony has gotten in years. Including myself that is, unfortunately. I would be more than welcoming to any kind of information you could get to me on her part."

Information about Lyra. His demand instantly rang an alarming bell in my head, as I jumped up from my seat. "What are you," I yelled in my nervous temper. "Some kind of stalker?"

The stallion frowned, as a good deal of faces turned towards us in curiosity. "I am an old friend, as I have told you already," he sternly repeated. "Lyra may not consider me that, but I am concerned about her. I just need to know about some basic issues. Where she goes, for example. Or what she's up to. I don't mean to harm her, or do anything to her that could bring the same to either of us. If that is what you think. But she does have a tendency to get herself into trouble, which repeatedly brought her in need of assistance during past years."

I remained standing where I was, startled, and my doubts unbroken. For just a minute or so, I simply stared at the stallion in disbelief. It didn't seem to ease him up in the slightest. "If it changes your mind," he continued. "I would also be willing to offer a significant amount of money in return for your compliance. Given your current situation and social status, that might come in handy over time."

"Well..." I started, only to trail off extremely quickly. Turning his offer around in my head, I started to feel undecided. Of course, selling out somepony who trusted you was wrong. Then again, I really could need some financial aid at the time. Also, how did he know about my situation? Did I really make it that obvious?

For now, I felt a stronger desire than ever to get away from this buffoon, whatever it was he might be up to.

"I won't be able to find out anything, whether I'd want to or not," I nervously told him to win myself some time. "Lyra doesn't include me in her work. On the contrary, she deliberately tries to keep me away from it."

A satisfied smirk crept on my muzzle, as I finished my explanation. It certainly was one way of getting myself away from that dilemma. The unchanged look on the stallion's face quickly made me feel uncomfortable again, however.

"As I've said, she can be a very restraint mare," he said. " But I'm sure she will try to seek your support sooner or later. Even if it's just her needing to show off in front of somepony. And even if she didn't, it shouldn't be to hard to convince her. Why, living under one roof, you're practically part of the family, already."

"Family?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you a relative of hers?"

"That's about enough," he answered with a sly grin, as he got up. "And do think about my offer. Whenever you've made up your mind, I'll be more than happy to hear about your decision. Until then, good luck with all your endeavors."

As he walked past, apparently approaching the platform exit, another thought crossed my mind. "I wouldn't know how to contact you, or where to search for you, if I did," I shouted past him.

Looking back over his shoulder, he concluded: "I know where to find you. That should do for now." And without further notion, he went out through the door, and disappeared onto the platform.

I might have just imagined it, but stepping back out the opposite door, I could feel a chilling breeze blow down the street. It was unusually cold for this time of the season; maybe I should have brought a scarf of sorts.