"Twilight, it's noon. Get up."
"S-Sp-Spike? Is that you?"
"Yes Twilight, Applejack and Fluttershy are here to see you?. Can you explain to me why you stayed up all last night?"
"Ugh... Celestia, artifact, important. Coffee... Please."
Spike watched as Twilight's head hit the books in front of her with a dull thump, sighed, and walked off to make some coffee.
Late last night, as she was getting into bed, Twilight received a message from Celestia that she needed research on a specific and arcane artifact. Unfortunately, she hadn't given Twilight a name, just a general description of what the artifact looked like. It was an intricately crafted gold locket that was fused shut. Beyond that, she'd given no further information, and after telling her it was of utmost importance, quickly shut the magical connection.
Most of the time, when Celestia needed something of Twilight, she sent Spike a letter. However, when Celestia made a direct connection, something very, very bad was going down. Twilight panicked. She grabbed every book she had on the shelf about magical artifacts of any kind and started pouring through them. Through the night, she slaved over the books, flipping through pages, looking for something, any mention of a golden locket.
But there was nothing, not a single mention of a locket. The closest she got was a gold lockbox, which apparently was enchanted to give whatever was put in a powerful magical property. However, she hadn't taken the time to read the previous outcomes of the box, just flipped through when she hadn't seen the words "locket" anywhere on the page. Bleary eyed, she shut a book, and prepared to open a new one, about three fourths of the way through the pile of research material. She lifted the book from the stack with her horn, placed the book on the table and opened it, the sun just rising over the horizon to begin his journey across the sky anew.
"Artifacts of the Ancient Age, by Dorothea Elderhoof. Sounds as good as anything else I've r—."
Twilight's head hit the book with a dull thump, and she drifted into a fitful sleep.
Spike returned, holding a mug of coffee which he handed to Twilight. Head still facedown, she muffled out a quick
"Thank you."
Before slurping the whole cup down in one gulp. She immediately returned to her work, horn picking up the book once again and pages of the compendium beginning to blur.
Spike opened his mouth to speak, then hung his head. He walked down from the top floor of the library. As he went down the stairs, he ran his claws lightly over the books lining the staircase, sighing to himself. He threw open the door to Applejack and Fluttershy, who had been eagerly awaiting his return. He just stood and shook his head.
"She's busy with some urgent project from the princesses... She can't come out."
Fluttershy looked to Applejack, a worried look on her face.
"But she promised she'd help rebuild the beaver dam today! I can't pick up every little stick myself!"
"Well she better get whatever magical mumbo jumbo she's doing finished fast! That dam needs to be built, and fast, or those damn beavers are gonna start whackin' down the orchard for wood." Applejack responded, looking first from Fluttershy, then to Spike.
"Sorry guys... I've no idea how long she'll be. It could be hours, it could be days... I just don't know." Spike said, moving to close the door.
"Well, wait justa second Spike. Maybe we can come in and ah, see what she's doin'."
Applejack said, pushing the door open and walking in.
"I really don't think that's the best i—"
Applejack was already halfway up the stairs and then opened the door into into Twilight's room. Spike face palmed and sighed, looking over to Fluttershy, who was still standing by the door.
"Great. Sorry Fluttershy, you'll just have to come back another time..."
"A-all right. Sorry for bothering you two."
Spike shut the door and walked to Twilight's room. What he expected was exactly what he got. A crazed Twilight deathstaring Applejack into a corner.
"Why is Applejack here Spike? I'm busy. You know not to let people in when I'm busy, right?"
She said with a little laugh. Spike was a little frightened at this point. Twilight was completely ignoring her friend, in lieu of talking to him. Another sign things were going badly for her. Spike worked up his courage, and whilst pushing Applejack out the door said to Twilight
"Aha, she was just seeing how you were! Nothing to worry about, everything's perfectly fine, go back to your research."
"Well make sure it doesn't happen again."
Spike, pushing Applejack down the stairs, muttered to her "What do you think you're doing? When I tell you not to do something, there's normally a good reason."
"Ah, ah just thought I could help her out. Ah wasn't expectin' her to be so..."
"Abrasive? Insane?"
"Yeh, there's some a' them fancy words I was lookin' for."
"Mhm, alright, sorry, but you have to go. I don't want Twilight any angrier at me or you. Dealing with her angry is ten times worse than dealing with her focused."
"Well, be'for ah go, what's she intent on findin' anyhow?"
"To be honest, I've no idea. From all the books she's looking through, I'd say it's an artifact of some kind, obviously very obscure and arcane. She's been pouring over those books since last night, and she hasn't found a scrap of information."
Applejack looked at Spike, puzzled by his choice of language, mouth sounding out the words 'obscure' and 'arcane.'
"Those words mean rare." Spike said with lidded eyes.
"Ah'll right, I guess..." Applejack responded before walking away from the house, head hung.
Spike shut and locked the door and shook his head. He'd already finished all his organization for the day, so he was going to take a nap, he thought he deserved it. He walked up the stairs, claws lazily clacking over the old wood handrail. As he reached the top, a voice called out to him
"Spike? Make sure nobody else comes up here."
"Alright Twi, I locked the door. I'm gonna get a nap in, I've finished organizing the Biology section on the bottom floor, like you wanted."
"Alright, but make sure nothing disturbs me."
Eyes already closed, Spike curled up in his basket and ignored her, drifting off into a dream.
Twilight looked over, rolling her eyes, and returned to her studies. She flipped through pages, searching for something, anything, that could lead her in the right direction. She was nearing the end of her pile, and yet, there hadn’t been a single mention. A silver locket, a gold watch, but no gold locket. If she didn’t find it soon, she would have to pour through the Canterlot Archives, something she didn’t exactly relish the thought of doing.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love the Canterlot library, she did, and considered it her second home. But it’s layout was atrocious, and so vast, that it would take her ages to find all the books relating to artifacts. Twilight didn’t have ages. And, with her prospects looking so bare, she didn’t expect much from Canterlot’s collection. Her only other thought went to the castle of the two sisters, which again, would be a nightmare to sift through. Millenia of disarray and disuse couldn’t have done good to anything there. Next on her list was the Crystal Empire’s Archives, most likely the oldest in all of Equestria. However, either way of travel, train or setting up a long distance teleport would take days she didn’t have.
Twilight let out a sigh and looked out her window. It really was a beautiful day, and she was sure ponies were out enjoying it, the weather crew having scheduled rainfall for the next few days. She finished the book she was working on, and threw it to the side. There was only one book left in the pile. An Overview of the Artefacts of Equestria, by Starswirl the Bearded. It was an old, torn and beaten book, from an age long ago. Normally, Twilight would have instantly gushed over the book, she’d never found this one, and she thought she’d read everything by Starswirl. However, she she just apathetically opened the cover, and began flipping through, searching for the locket she desired.
But, to her disappointment once again, there was nothing, not a mention of a locket. Not even her idol was of help here. She shut the book in rage, slamming her head into the table and jarring Spike from his nap.
“No… I-I’m fine Spike… J-just leave me alone for a second… Or an hour. Or two.”
Twilight stood up from her desk and grabbed her quill from beside her bed. She opened a little cabinet above her desk and pulled out a small ink reservoir, placing it next to her. She took a deep breath, and braced for a feeling she’d felt very few times. Failure. Pulling down, she removed a small scroll from a small drawer and placed it neatly on the desk, brushing a cobweb from the side. She dipped her pen in, removed it and began.
Dear Princess Celestia.
I regret to inform you that my search of the Ponyville archives has yielded naught. Not a single mention of the locket you instructed me to look for. However, I do not believe all hope is lost. I can still search the Canterlot Archives, and after that, the decrepit Library of the Two Sisters, and possibly even the Crystal Empire’s archives after that. However, each of these would take weeks to search entirely, and I’m not entirely sure any would show results, even after that.
On another note, I wish to know the reason for your urgency in contacting me, as well as the purpose and function of the artifact in question, if you know.
Sincerely, Your Faithful Student
~Twilight Sparkle
Twilight rolled the scroll, and carefully bound it with red fabric. She pulled out a rubber stamp, as well as a small vat of red rubber. She magically heated the rubber, and pressed the stamp into the rubber, before removing it and pushing it hard into the seam of the letter, sealing it. The stamp had a smaller rendition of Twilight’s cutiemark, along with the words “Ab orbam per technicam” along the outside. She picked up the scroll and placed it atop Spike, then sighed to herself.
She walked from the room, and sat down on the lip of the stairs, head in her hooves. Her eyes started to feel a bit hot, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Shutting her eyes tight, she used a hoof to wipe away the few tears that had fallen, and stood up feeling dejected. She slouched over to her bed, jumped inside, and closed her eyes.
Anonymous arrived home to his apartment block, shutting the car door and sulking over to the stairwell. As he walked up the stairs to his apartment, he flipped his keychain in his hands, and they jingled softly as they lept from his hand skyward. It was Friday, and the work week was done. However, work was a bit more than done for him, and pretty much the office as a whole. He opened the door out of the stairwell, and walked to his door, 539. He unlocked the door and walked inside, slamming the door shut. He threw his keys on the counter and sat down on the couch and let out a sigh.
Rumor had it that another round of layoffs had been in the works. They turned out to be true, half the office was out of a job. He, sadly, ended up in the not so lucky half. He leaned forward, head in hands. After this month, there'd be no money for rent. Unemployment would get him nowhere near the cost of the apartment, and even if it did, would probably leave nothing for food and utilities. He'd be out of a house if he didn't find a job soon. And flipping burgers didn't exactly put his college education to full usage.
Asking himself why he even came home in the first place, Anonymous left his apartment, and walked down the stairs. He threw open the front door and took a short walk to the neighborhood bar, Kitty's. He walked in and sat down. None of his buddies were there, and he sat at the bar alone.
"Somethin' getting you down Anon? You're a bit less jovial than your usual self." The bartender said, an old fellow, friend of Anon, named Ricky. He was Irish and while missing the accent, was the perfect stereotype for running a bar.
"Laid off... I... I think I'll be needing something a bit stronger than usual tonight."
"Aye, drinking your troubles away. Sorry to hear it. I'll leave ya be." Ricky said, nodding his head and moving to the back of the bar.
Off the back he grabbed a bottle of tequila and poured a shot, leaving the bottle next to Anon.
The night dragged on, and so Anon kept drinking. Eventually, Ricky grabbed the bottle before he could drink anymore. He made a slurred grab for the bottle as it danced out of his reach, then just leaned his forehead on the table. Eventually, he stood up to leave, put a twenty on the bar and left. He didn't know if that was too much or too little, but at the moment, he didn't care.
He stumbled home, drunkenly making his way up the stairs. He tripped on the top step and fell, hitting the side of his face into the floor. Standing up, he kicked the wall in blind rage, accomplishing nothing. He walked to his room and opened the door, then stumbled to his bed and turned off the lights. He hadn't even changed out of his work clothes. Staring at the ceiling, Anon turned a quarter over in his fingers. It was his lucky quarter, had it since he was 18. It'd been with him to his first job interview, and every one since. Damn shame he hadn't brought it to work today.
Anon woke up,a headache blasting his cranium. Turning over to his desk clock, it read 10:56. It was Saturday, and the weekend was just beginning. He stood up and rubbed his head, trying to force his hangover away with sheer will. It didn't work. He walked over to his closet and took off his work clothes. He had the most wonderful crick in his neck, and it was throbbing like no tomorrow, yet another bit of fun to add to the headache he was enjoying. After a quick shower, Anon put on a pair of shorts and a T-Shirt, before sitting on his couch, trying to think of something, anything to do today.
After a couple of minutes of thinking through a headache, an idea came into his head. He hadn't visited the museum for... Eight or nine years. Yet for some reason, he was oddly compelled to take a visit, nostalgia he reasoned. His inner child, wanting to take a stroll down memory lane. Who was he to stop it. As he was about to leave, he stopped, and grabbed his lucky quarter off his bedside table. He felt like he was going to need it. Anon walked down to his car and started it, backing out if the garage beneath his structure. He wasn't in the best condition to drive, but a fatal accident at this moment in time would almost be a blessing.
As he arrived at the museum, he found a place to park and shut the door, locking it. He walked to the front, paid the entrance fee and stepped inside. It was empty, void of people. Back when he was younger, this place was bustling with people. Better or for worse, technology has changed society. Anonymous walked slowly through the empty halls, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He moved through a section of stuffed animals, ranging from a fearsome pride of lions down to a couple of wolverines, hissing in a mock snowy landscape. As he reached the end of the hall, it opened into an area he'd never seen before, a new addition. It was a collection of ancient jewelry.
No reason not to check it out. Anon thought as he walked inside. The room was contained in one arched cavern, display cases of jewelry surrounding the outskirts of the room. He peered inside, each, making his way around the room. In each case lied an array of gems and rings, each having the looks of a different period, ranging from Egyptian gold to modern diamonds. He was sure that there was no way the museam could have afforded this, even with governmental benefits. There was simply too much of value here. A curious anomaly in this small museum.
At the center sat a gold locket, twinkling in the fluorescent light of the building. Surprisingly, there was no display case, leaving the locket open, only a guard rail surrounding it. He walked to it, inspecting it. On the front was a large, intricate "G" carved into the gold, adorned with a silvery foil. Around the G, was a sentence, though it was so small, Anon couldn't make it out.
He wanted to take it. He didn't know why, but some instinct told him to. He reached for it, then stopped himself. What was he doing? Stealing a valuable piece from a museum. It'd be like stealing the Mona Lisa, except much smaller. And less pricey. Anxious to rid himself of the feeling, Anon quickly began backing out of the room. However, the farther he got from the locket, the more he felt...
He needed it.
As his foot crossed the threshold of the collection, he prepared to run, far, far away from whatever this locket was. He wasn't about to submit blindly to unknown instincts. However, he couldn't do it. Instead, he ran back to the locket and grabbed it, holding it aloft his head. In his moment of triumph, a smile came over his face. Then, with the smell of plasma, Anon dissipated into thin air, the locket and man gone.
