The Adventures of Mystery Mane, Book one: Golden Boy

Prologue:

A house sat on a cloud in Cloudsdale, not far from where a filly named Rainbow Dash started the race that earned her a cutie mark. It was a simple enough house, just painted a shade of pink darker than the dawn sky outside. Even the interior was not complex; it was only dark brown wood with a bit of furniture here and there. One would take a look at it and think that the residents of this house were not out of the ordinary, and they weren’t… except for Mystery Mane.

The pale gray filly sat in her room as she always did, reading another Sherlock Hooves book. She had been obsessed with them ever since her father introduced them to her when she was old enough to read. It was fascinating how Hooves looked at everything around him and determined what had happened before anypony got there.

“Mystery Mane, have you been up all night reading that?”

The young pony jumped and whirled around to see her mother, Rain Cloud, standing in the doorway. Like Mystery Mane, she had a pale gray coat, but she had a white mane. Mystery Mane’s was blue like her fathers. Mystery Mane knew her mother was never up this early, so Rain Cloud looked a bit grumpy.

“Reading what, mother?”

Mystery Mane quickly hid the book behind her back, but her mother flew up into the air. When she saw the book, the Pegasus mare sighed, took the book, and put it on the bookshelf.

“Mystery,” she said, pushing her daughter’s mane out of her face, “You really shouldn’t stay up reading those all night. You look exhausted, dear.”

The filly didn’t try to argue; she was perfectly aware that she looked tired. She hadn’t gotten any sleep for three nights; this was partly because of Sherlock Hooves, and partly because there was just too much to do.

“Get some sleep, or you’ll worry Miss Cheerilee when the weekend ends,” her mother ordered.

“But mother, I can’t sleep now! Not when there’s so much to do,” Mystery Mane protested, “Besides, it’s daytime, I’ll never get to sleep when the sun in out.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rain Cloud said thoughtfully, “But you’ve been cooped up in your room for far too long. I want you to go outside and make some friends.”

“But-,”

“No buts, young Filly. You are going outside, or I will fly over to Sky Speed and get him to back me up.” Rain Cloud gave her a stern look, and Mystery Mane wasn’t about to argue. Her father was usually a kind stallion, but if he was mad, Celestia have mercy on your soul.

Mystery Mane trotted angrily to the door and then outside, slamming the door behind her. The sunlight was almost blinding, as she had anticipated. What was the point of not sleeping if she was being forced to be outside? Anger boiled within her and it left only when she heard a high pitched scream. Her eyes widened with terror as she realized somepony was in serious trouble.

“Hang on, I’m coming!” she called.

Mystery Mane knew that the quickest way to get there would be flying, although she didn’t do much of that. She glanced with dismay at her stubby wings, which had yet to grow out because she was only a filly. Still, she knew that she had to try. Screwing up her courage, she leapt into the air and spread her wings.

The source of the trouble was clear once she was in the air. Down on the clouds below were three shapes which Mystery Mane recognized as some Pegasi that went to her school. She wobbled in the air, suddenly realizing she was going to fall.

“Look out below!” she shouted, and then dropped like a rock. Two of the young ponies moved out of the way, but one colt with a brown coat and a white mane wasn’t so lucky. She landed on top of him, and he let out a gasp of breath.

“Ow,” he grunted, and Mystery Mane scrambled off of him.

“Sorry,” she apologized, and then turned to the other two ponies.

“Come on, Storm Chaser,” A pure white colt said, giving him a nudge, “Don’t be a wimp; this puny filly couldn’t crush a leaf let alone a pony.”

Storm Chaser got to his hooves and shook himself off, the golden colored filly beside him glaring at the other colt.

“Snow Storm, now is not the time to insult other ponies! We have a crisis on our hooves!”  She looked panicked, her nostrils flaring and her wings stiff.

“Since when did this count as a crisis, Golden Dawn?” Snow Storm snorted.

“Guys, don’t fight,” Storm Chaser whimpered, but the glaring ponies didn’t seem to hear him.

“What happened? Maybe I could help.” When Mystery Mane spoke, Snow Storm and Golden Dawn looked at her as if they had forgotten she was there.

“This is what’s wrong!” Golden Sun exclaimed, pushing forward a pink box. Inside was a few shards of brightly colored glass. “I left my Wonderbolts statue here for a second to go help Storm Chaser up when he fell, and when I came back it was broken! My prized possession is broken.” She looked mad, but tears were welling up in her eyes.

“I say it’s not a problem,” Snow Storm snorted. “Even if it was a problem, how would we be able to tell who did this if they’re already gone?”

“Elementary, my dear Snowy,” Mystery Mane chuckled, “I will find the breaker of Dawn’s statue with the science of deduction!”

“Yeah, like that’ll work,” Snow Storm scoffed.

“Miss Dawn, if you could please let me examine the box.” The golden filly nodded and pushed the box to Mystery Mane.

At a glance, there appeared to be nothing wrong with the scene of the crime. The statue of the Wonderbolts was broken alright, but it wasn’t until Mystery Mane got a closer look that she saw something strange. There was some white hair in the box next to the shards.

“If you look here, you will see a bit of white hair.” Mystery Mane looked at Snow Storm, “Can you explain that?”

“Not really,” the colt said, “But I suppose this means that the pony responsible has white hair, so wha… wait, are you blaming me?” His eyes widened with indignation, “How do we know the culprit didn’t break it earlier?”

“Because earlier, Golden Dawn said she had turned her back for only a second. Now, I came as soon as I heard the scream, and it can be assumed that she screamed as soon as she found her beloved statue broken. The culprit wouldn’t have had time to escape.” Mystery Mane paced, and then turned to stare at Snow Storm. “So where were you during the second she had her back turned?”

“Yeah,” Golden Sun gasped, “Where were you Snow Storm?”

The white colt looked nervous for a second, but then regained his composure. “Well where was Storm Chaser?” he questioned, “In case you haven’t noticed, his mane is white. That hair could easily belong to him!”

“Hey!” Storm Chaser’s blue eyes filled with sadness, “I didn’t do anything!”

“How can we be sure?” Snow Storm asked, “Maybe you’re covering up your guilt with that innocent pony façade.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Snow Storm,” Mystery Mane snorted, “This hair isn’t from a mane, it’s from a coat. You are the only pony here with a white coat. Besides, Golden Dawn said the reason she turned her back was to help up Storm Chaser, who had fallen. This leaves you as the only one unaccounted for. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

All of the young ponies fell silent, and then there was a cry.

“Okay, I did it!” Snow Storm wailed, “I admit it, but I didn’t mean to break your statue, Golden Dawn, really. All I wanted to do was play with it; I didn’t know it was glass. See, I even cut my leg because it broke.” He held out his front leg; the white fur was stained pink by a small cut, the source of the hair. “I’m sorry Golden Dawn!”

Golden Dawn stared at him, and then nuzzled him. “I forgive you, Snow Storm. I probably should have told you that it was made of glass.”

Mystery Mane stood there, watching. Never before had she felt so great about something; perhaps solving mysteries was her forte. Suddenly, she felt a hoof tap her shoulder; it was Storm Chaser.

“Th-that was amazing,” he stammered, “I wish I could be cool like you; look, you even got your cutie mark!”

“What?” Mystery Mane turned to look at her flank, and saw Storm Chaser was right. In the place of her usually blank flank were three black question marks. Solving mysteries really was her forte! Sherlock Hooves would we proud of her.