The Alchymist
chapter 1 : The Gala
Load Full StoryChapter 1 : The Grand Galloping Gala.
“Hey!” Prince Blueblood shouted as the cool liquid spilt on his suit and face, drawing the attention and gaze of more than one pony around him. His head snapped up to the mare that had bumped into him, she had a grey coat, black and white hair, and wine red eyes. She was wearing a black cape that concealed her cutiemark from view, but her wings could still be made out just poking below the cape and she wore a black city-fedora hat with a white stripe around it.
She stood out like a sore hoof in the ballroom filled with nobles with elegant dresses and fancy suits, and already had the attention of those around her. Bumping into Blueblood only grabbed the attention of more of the room. She blinked with a blank expression on her face, “Sorry.”
“You better be. Do you know how much this suit cost!?” he shouted once more, his anger building and attracting more stares.
“One, water won't stain. Two, even if it did, you have more than enough to replace it easily.” The next one made Blueblood’s eye begin to twitch. “Three, you shouldn’t be such a brat about it. But since you are, here, take my handkerchief,” she said blankly, pulling out the piece of cloth.
He swiped it from her grasp, and began to frivolously wipe it on his suit in an attempt to dry it off. A small smile of amusement curled onto her lips. She brought her now half empty glass of ice water to them, but that was swiped from her grasp as well. She looked back at Prince Blueblood and an eyebrow of hers raised. Her smile disappeared.
Smirking at her with the glass in his magic, he downed it in front of her, minus the partly melted ice cubes in a pitiful act of revenge. Taking the glass with him, he huffed once, and walked away holding his head high with a ‘ha ha, I won, you lost’ attitude. As he walked, he heard her whisper: “I won't cry at your funeral,” just before he got out of earshot. His eyes widened and he swung around to confront her, only to find that she was gone.
He looked into the crowd, only to find the kind of crowd you would expect to find after the incident. Countless stares, but there strangely was no gray pegasus. It was as if she had vanished, or she had never existed. Had he been hallucinating? Or had she really disappeared?
He didn’t have the answer, and would never have it.
…
The grey pegasus walked down the street, an unreadable expression plastered onto her face. Turning, she opened the door to a bar, and walked inside the well lit room. A bell chimed as she entered, grabbing the attention of the bartender who was wiping the inside of a glass with a clean cloth who paused as he saw her. His smile disappeared, and he became the second most serious pony in the room.
“Sorry everypony, we're closing now,” he called to the ponies in the room, not taking his eyes off of the grey pegasus. Grunts and shouts of disagreement filled the bar, the customers not liking the announcement. He sighed. “Look, first drink everypony in this room gets tomorrow is on the house if you all leave right now.” The bar became quiet, they all blinked once, then charged out the door. Five seconds later, there were only two ponies left in the bar.
The bartender turned his attention back to the grey mare who hadn’t moved from where she stood after the door shut. She flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ and looked back at him. He leaned forward, and asked: “How was the Gala?”
“A mouthful,” she blankly replied in code.
A smile grew on the bartender’s face.
“So he’s taken care of?”
She nodded.
“Excellent. Now we move onto phase two.”
“And that would be...?”
“You heading down to Ponyville to establish a hiding place.”
“You sure that will work? It’s right down the mountain.”
“Exactly, they would expect an assassin to travel as far away as possible from Canterlot. They never expect you to hide in plain sight, there's a train making a stop in Ponyville before it heads to Los Pegasus tomorrow morning. They’ll expect you to head there. Lay low in Ponyville, once things calm down we can move onto phase three.”
“Fine. just don’t blame me if we get caught. I still feel like this was a bad idea. What are you gonna do?”
“I’ll stay here in hiding. You would expect it to be the bartender as much as you would expect it to not be the butler.”
“Tushe.”
…
Back at the Gala, the incident had been cleaned up. Blueblood, however, was still not happy about what happened. Despite it not being very ‘princess like’, Princess Luna had an elbow on the table, and a hoof on her chin, board out of her mind at Blueblood’s rableing. Part of her secretly wanting nothing more than for him to just shut up.
“I mean really, out off all the lesser ponies in this room she could have bumped into, she bumped into me! She embarrassed me right in front of everypony else, and soaked my brand new suit! She’s just lucky I didn’t get a name or cutiemark, or I would have made her pay for a new one… Bla bla bla...”
The Princess of the night rolled her eyes yet again. A thousand years ago, before she was banished, the nobles weren't complainers and usually were content with their wealth. She had always been happy talking to them, and them to her. Now though, it seemed like even the smallest thing upset these ponies. Secretly, she wished there would be a way to shut Blueblood up, but she couldn't leave, and he wouldn’t, stop, talking. It was getting tiring.
That gave her an idea. Smiling, her horn gave off a light glow, and she cast a weak sleep spell on him. It wasn’t enough to put him to sleep, but it would make him tired. He would likely leave if he was sleepy.
Prince Blueblood yawned, and his eyes drooped. The spell was working. Feeling tired, he decided it was time for him to head home. Saying farewell to Princess Luna, he took five steps in the direction of the door, then doubled over in pain, and clenched his teeth. Three seconds later, he fell on his side, groaning; the glass he had in his magic shattered, spilling it's contents all over the floor. The pain doubled, and he cried out silently. Then there was nothing, his body went limp, and his jaw went slack.
The crowd gasped. Murmurs and whispers spread like wildfire, and someone randomly shouted: “Prince Blueblood’s been murdered!”
In a flash, Luna was at his side and quickly checked his vitals. A sigh from her mouth confirmed the worst. He was dead. She tasted the liquid he had been drinking, only to find it was water. But there was something else there, and Luna’s frown grew as she recognized it.
“Poison,” she muttered.
