The streets of Kos were always active, night or day. Carts filled with sacks of flour rolled past, entertainers sang to the gods and breathed fire by the corners, the merchants by their stands yelled for people to try out their wares, guards stood idly by their booths, commonfolk flowed down the streets like water as they headed for work, and clergy mares hurried to the different shrines around the city. In the middle of it, all was one white-clad stallion.

“This is ridiculous...” Vigilant mumbled to himself as a guard passed him.

The wayward prince had managed to get past the noble district without much worry. A few coseans had seen him and wished him luck, which he had returned with a curt nod. When he had been out of sight of the palace gates he had felt himself straighten and his mood growing more sour. The guards had checked every mare that had left the courtyard, but not him. Did they really think that lowly of their fellow stallions? Had they stayed around the clergy too much? Maybe the palace servants had been too soft on them? Either way he would have to ask Sacred to drill them properly when he got back. If he could sneak out that easily then the assassin would have had an even easier time. Vigilant bit his lip and passed another guard, who just gave him a quick bow. Most mares and stallions that passed gave him honorable greetings and bows. The colors of the church covered him, the colors of the gods. Like a blanket of light it hid his visage from the prying eyes of the curious. They would not be able to determine who he was. He was just a stallion, another of the endless male acolytes of the church. He was broken out of his thoughts as a mare swished her tail into his face. Vigilant stopped dead in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. Her skin was red, her gelatinous mane black. His gaze traveled up her tail until it landed on her flank. The prince quickly turned away and hurried down the street, his heart racing.

His journey continued across the cobblestone streets. He followed signs and the sounds of mirth. There were few places in Kos that served alcohol in the morning, the few exceptions being in the red-light district. Vigilant peeked under his hood as he passed a guard booth, the mares eyeing him. One whispered something into the other’s ear, which made them both giggle. He stopped and turned to face them, the two tilting their head at him. The wooden booth they stood in was small, only large enough to fit four ponies at most. A pole bearing Cosea’s flag was attached to the booth, marking it as under the crown’s protection and jurisdiction. The guard to the left had a red mane and light yellow skin while her companion had a light green mane with navy blue skin. They both wore steel armor with a crown ingrained on their chestplate.

“Can we help you, honored brother?” the green-maned mare asked.

Vigilant took a deep breath, his tail shaking. “I am looking for the… red-light district. You see a former prostitute was coming to our small church in the western part of the city until recently when she just disappeared. My priestess has ordered me to find this mare and bring her back, so we may continue the work in saving her soul and body.”

The two guards looked at each other for a second, their brows raised and lips twitching, before they slowly looked back at him. “And you’re telling us you are not looking for the district due to more… carnal desires?”

“What!? Of course not! I am no sinner, nor am I a whore! I follow the faith and all its doctrines!” Vigilant’s tail shot up and his nostrils flared. He bared his teeth at the duo and growled, making one of them take a step back.

“Apologies, honored brother! We didn’t mean to accuse you of unholy intentions, but you must understand you are not the first young stallion from the church that has asked for the red-light district.”

The white cloaked prince blinked. “Stallions of the church go there? The holy dare go against the tenants and revel in such things?...”

The red-maned guard nodded. “Yes, honored brother. Surely a young stallion as yourself understands such carnal desires.”

Vigilant opened his mouth in disgust and horror. They dared accuse him of cavorting with sullied mares? He who was supposed to lead his people by example? He had been raised as a true follower of the faith, as a true believer in the stallion’s and mare’s place in the world, and they dared accuse him?

“After all, your holiness, seeking pleasure should not be a crime nor sin,” the green-maned guard said.

“It definitely should! It leads our people down a dark path to the void! Not to speak of the crime and suffering such places create! You should be ashamed for saying such things under an open sky, the gods can hear your blasphemy!” Vigilant slammed his tail on the ground and growled. By now ponies had stopped to watch the spectacle, a small church stallion yelling at two mares of the city watch.

The mares looked at the gathering crowd before giving each other another look. The red-maned mare shrugged and the green-maned guard pointed down an alley. “Take that path and then right when you reach the street. When you hear laughter, see stallions dressed obscenely by street corners, and walk on red bricks you’ll know you’ve reached the right place.”

The prince let out a long exhale before giving the two guards a quick bow. “Thank you.”

With that Vigilant headed down the alley, ignoring the looks he got by the others. It was a strange sight see a stallion assert himself, and the ponies watching him surely thought him a hypocrite. A stallion preaching to a mare, pah!

As the disguised prince reached the street he took a sharp right and followed it. Small shops, homes, and shrines dotted the narrow street and ponies of all kinds passed him. Once again he got curious bows and looks, though considering his direction most seemed to judge him. Everyone knew where the street headed, and most was walking away from the place, not heading towards it. Vigilant felt his cheeks burn at the indignation, the shame, of appearing as a pleasure-seeking fool. He followed the seventh tenant, to not defile one’s body or soul by sleeping with another before marriage, and he followed it adamantly. Any frisky maid, teasing ambassador, or too friendly noblemare were all met by the same cold and distant look. His mother had raised him well, though it had been the high priestess who had instilled true virtues in him. Seris had made sure he followed the tenants of the church and that he had paid true tribute to the gods. It was partially why Vigilant felt his cheeks burn at what he had said to the two guards. The second tenant, a stallion will always be subservient to a mare, had been drilled into his mind a long time ago.

In his musings Vigilant missed when he had entered his desired destination. The roofs had taken on a red color with large crescent roof tiles and the white walls were now brown, either from dirt or wood. The ground itself had also shifted from a neutral grey cobblestone to a red pavement. There were stallions and mares in all shapes and sizes by street corners and looking out windows. Lingerie, ribbons to tie up manes, and skimpy dresses were on display everywhere. The shops held red or pink signs with phallic imagery and lipstick kisses. Nothing was on full display in the shop's windows, but Vigilant understood what was inside. This was the district sinners and criminals came to. Here was the district where smugglers stored their wares and where sexually transmitted diseases spread like pox.

“Gods have mercy on these poor sinners...” Vigilant mumbled.

The prince used magic to pull his cloak tighter around his body and he passed a cosean mare that could not have been much older than himself. She winked at him and opened her jaw wide, mimicking as if she was sucking on something- Oh god gods! Vigilant ran from her with burning cheeks and she just giggled at his reaction.

Vigilant tried to find his way without asking for directions. Beggars pulled on his cloak for money and he sent them back with a spell. Whores asked him if he wanted a nice morning release and he recited passages from the holy scriptures. Stallions in dark alleyways offered him a pipe with a dried blue weed inside and he smacked them aside. Where could he even find a reliable source of information? A whore was more likely to pull him into an alley and deprive him of his virtue, a beggar would want silver shells and likely lie so Vigilant would have to come back and ask for more, and the addicts had long lost any sense of reality. There was not one stallion or mare in the district with any honor, and Vigilant feared he would lose his own by staying for too long. How hard could it be for a stallion to find a bloody tavern?

Then a hope emerged, a brown cosean stallion, leaning against a wall mumbled on about beer and wine. A local drunk surely knew where to find the tavern, and so Vigilant approached him. “Fine sir, may you tell me where I can find the shady hollow?”

The stallion blinked lazily and lifted his head to meet Vigilant’s gaze. He tilted his head and eyed the prince’s robes. “You need a drink, brother?”

“I… Yes, yes I am here to drink!” Vigilant lied and puffed out his chest.

The drunk eyed her for a second before having a hiccup. “No, you’re not.”

“What? You dare accuse me of lying you wretch?” the prince sneered.

The cosean stallion stopped leaning against the wall and walked out of the shade into the sunlight. He was brown with a tuft of black on his head. His eyes carried the same color as his coat and he had a shield for his cutie mark. “I am not accusing, I am saying you aren’t here to drink. Trust me, I know my fair share of thrifty clergy stallions and you are not one of them.”

Vigilant took a step back and grit his teeth. “Fine. I have no desire to drink, but I must find this tavern. Two of my friends had a drink there recently and forgot some items, and I would like to inspect their booth. I would also like to meet a stallion by the name of Oliver of Hansha. He might know something of importance, as he is a friend of theirs.”

“And what was the name of your friends? Perhaps I could help you if you only tell me a bit more,” the stallion said.

“Are you always this difficult? Are you even drunk?” Vigilant said and ran a paw on his snout.

The brown cosean snorted. “I am drunk, though it wears off quite quickly these days...”

“Fine, I’ll give you their names but you will promise to tell no one,” Vigilant growled.

“This is the red-light district, keeping secrets is what the place is good at.”

Vigilant gave a mocking smirk. “You can not be very good at it considering everyone knows what sort of place it is.”

The drunk shook his head. “Trust me, son, you have barely scratched the surface with a few rumors and tales that have reached your churchly quarters.”

“Fine, I will tell you their names. Marcis and Feris, personal servants to the queen. They went to that tavern to drink and I need to know where they sat. You see they might have forgotten something very important there, and I am to retrieve it.”

The drunk eyed him for a second before nodding. “Follow me, honored brother.”

As they walked towards the tavern Vigilant felt curious about the stallion leading the way. “What is your name?”

“Oliver, Oliver of Hansha. I was reluctant to share it since it is not normally a good thing to have the clergy looking for you."

Vigilant stopped in the middle of his tracks. "You are Oliver of Hansha?"

Oliver nodded. "The one and only. May I ask for your name, revered brother?”

“You may not.”

“It is quite rude to ask for someone’s name and then don’t share your own.”

“I don’t care.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and continued leading the way to the tavern. It laid close to the docks, so close in fact that Vigilant could see ships in the district’s harbor. The vessels that docked in the district were merchant's vessels, but they were hardly legitimate traders. Yet despite their unknown cargo and questionable origin Vigilant was certain he saw a few guards by the docks, examining the ships and allowing them to unload said cargo. Were the guards in the red-light district that dense? It was despicable. Oliver cleared his throat and tore Vigilant attention back to the shady hollow.

“Apologies.”

The tavern lay in the basement of a house. Stone stairs led down to its door and only the sign hung on the ground level. The sign depicted a grotto with a lantern hanging adjacent to it. It looked like a place smugglers would use, and it fitted a tavern so close to the docks. Oliver led the way down the stairs and into the tavern, and Vigilant followed.

The tavern was unlike any place Vigilant had seen before. First, the floor was made entirely of cheap imported birch wood from the continent. It spoke of low quality and few shells. The bar desk had a large and wide cabinet behind it that stretched from one end of the desk to the other. Inside were obscure kinds of ale, wine, and beer. The names on the labels were not familiar to Vigilant. He was used to drinking the finest wine from the Silveltian vineyards, not some cheap knock-off from the Cat-paw islands. The ale was likely imported from the Silfy empire, though it did not bear the emperor’s seal. The beer was from the dukedom of Garmain, and it was genuine.

The main floor of the tavern was littered with stallions and mares having a drink and eating whatever food the tavern had to offer. Drinking songs were sung, plates emptied, and mugs downed in a single take. The atmosphere was festive and light, though Vigilant could only see sin and vice.

“Where did they sit?” he asked Oliver.

“In the back. I remember it quite clearly since they lamented about the queen’s death every five minutes.”

“Did you not grieve the loss of the queen? At the very least you could share your friend's grief!” Vigilant’s nostrils flared and he stomped his hoof into the floor.

Oliver shrugged. “I did not know the mare, so I have no reason to grieve, but she was well-liked. I offered the poor fellow some beer and wine, which seemed to cheer them up. Not that they drank it all.”

The prince had to take a deep breath to quiet the storm in his chest before he followed Oliver to the booth back in the tavern. The brown stallion motioned with his tail at the empty and cleaned booth before tilting his head at the disguised prince. “What did you hope to find, revered brother?”

“Anything, something. There has to be a clue… This was my only lead,” Vigilant said and desperately searched the seat and table for anything of value.

Oliver looked at him with confusion. “Lead for what? You said you were searching for an item.”

“I said something, and that something is information. Healer Kira was murdered because of something these stallions knew and they can no longer remember it, so now I am out here among you filthy commoners, sinners, and drunkards doing my best to not have a nervous breakdown! Is that an adequate answer!?” Vigilant hissed.

The brown stallion seemed taken aback and seated himself in the booth. “Healer Kira is dead?”

Vigilant froze and nodded solemnly. “She was murdered last night.”

“Good gods… Why would someone want to murder such a sweet mare? She was the best healer in the city and she helped many stallions and mares from around here. She helped me with a nasty case of the flu once,” Oliver mumbled.

“She was killed because she had a message from the queen to give me. She gave me a warning that powerful people did not want me to receive this message and that she would give it to me the next evening. Supposedly her office had been ransacked, and she no longer felt safe. It was as she was delivering the message that she was attacked and killed. The good healer was robbed of any message she might have been carrying, and the queen’s personal servants who also knew the content of the message had forgotten it. Marcis and Faris last visit was to this place, and it was here they forgot about the message,” Vigilant said.

“I did see those two here after the queen’s funeral. How do you know all of this though? You are a simple clergy member, are you not?” Oliver asked.

“I know it because I am the crown prince.”

Vigilant lifted his hood for a split second and the drunk’s eyes widened. Oliver looked around them with wild eyes before continuing the conversation with a hushed tone. “What are you doing here on your own, your highness!?”

“I came to find the truth, and I think you can help me find it. You said you saw the two servants on the day the queen was buried, correct?”

“I did. I saw them speak to a black stallion dressed in a dark jacket and tophat. His cutie mark was covered, so I can not be certain who he was. I did see he had a red mane, however,” Oliver said and leaned back into the seat.

“Do you know anything else, something which might help me find out what my mother wanted to tell me?” Vigilant asked.

Oliver pondered for a second. “Well… If Kira is gone then there is no hurting in telling you. She had a house here in the district, a building where she treated the sick of the red-light district. She had an office there, and it was a well-kept secret that she did it. She wore a mask most of the time and covered her cutie mark, though a lucky few were allowed to know who she really was. Took really good care of us. Treated disease, helped teach spells to prevent pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases, and she gave free care to the children who live here.”

Vigilant tilted his head. “Why would she help beggars, drunks, and whores who could not pay her a reasonable price for her services?”

“Because she was a good mare.”

The prince pondered on that and nodded. “Very well. Show me to her office.”

Oliver led Vigilant from the shady hollow further north into the district. They passed a large building surrounded by stallions and mares offering their ‘services’ and loud moans came from the open windows on the upper floor. Vigilant scrunched his snout at the obscene display and Oliver snorted at him.

“Are you truly that prudish, your highness?” the drunk asked.

“Prudish? With all due respect that a stallion of my position may hold, it is not prudish to be disgusted by a rat-infested haven of sin. The whores are filthy and disease-ridden, the beds old and surely filled with cockroaches, and I bet that criminal gangs run it all in these shady basements tucked away at every street corner,” the prince said.

Oliver shrugged. “The district has never been looked after. No one steps in to regulate the ‘workers’ or the wares shipped to it. The guards only watch the docks, and I am willing to bet a ruby on them being the most corrupt guards in the city. There is no upkeep of the buildings and no laws for sanitation or cleanliness, so the brothels become just as filthy as you claim.”

Vigilant growled. “I’ll tear it all down when I am made king, I will outlaw every practice that goes on here.”

“And throw every whore in the city in jail?” Oliver smirked.

“If that is what it takes? Then yes! Decency, virtue, and honor can not be exchanged for some silver shells. I will throw every whore in jail or send them to the church to be healed from their sin. A low diet, penance, and holy scripture would surely set them straight,” Vigilant huffed.

“I fear for our city once you take the throne, your highness.”

“Because I will clean up the dirtiest district in the city? Because I will do my role as a stallion, follower of the faith, and king? Because I will hold on to my principles? If you fear that then you are a sinful coward.”

Oliver sighed. “I am just worried your convictions aren't your own.”

Vigilant froze and glared at the drunk. He mumbled under his breath and slowly followed behind Oliver, wondering how he would punish the commoner for his insolence. How dare he question the words of his monarch and the church? Surely he knew nothing awaited them but damnation should they break the scripture? The prince growled and continued following the brown stallion.

“Here we are,” Oliver said when they reached a large house at the north end of the district.

The building was old, older than any other in the red-light district. Wide as a mansion and high as a tower it stretched far above the two stallions. A metal fence and gate surrounded the building, and foals played outside in the yard. Vigilant tilted his head at the sight and looked to Oliver.

“What is this place?”

“The red-light districts very own orphanage, for all children who nobody wants. It is a sad sight. The teacher and owner of the place is a good enough sort, though I fear he is a bit eccentric. It was on the third floor that Healer Kira had her clinic and office,” Oliver said and pushed open the gate.

The children at the yard did not pay too much attention to the two stallions as they passed them. Though one brave, or very stupid, colt threw a stone. It sailed through the air and his Vigilant's head. The prince slowly looked towards the colt and glared. Oliver grabbed a hold of his cloak and dragged him through the great wooden archway that lead into the building. They found themselves in a grand hall where they met by a red stallion with a black mane.

“How can I help you two?” the stallion asked.

“We are here to see healer Kira. I can vouch for the clergy stallion, Laras. We will just head up the stairs,” Oliver said.

The red stallion, who was apparently named Laras, stepped before the stairs and shook his head. “She is not here today, so I suggest you return at another time.”

“She is dead, she’ll never come here again. Let us pass, that is an order,” Vigilant growled.

Laras shook his head. “Sir, this is my property. I do not care for your subservient church role, do not use your position for such things. The gods do not take kindly to hubris.”

Vigilant threw off the cloak and bared his teeth at the stallion. Laras eyes widened and he took a step back. The children outside looked into the hall and were stunned by seeing the appearance of their monarch.

“Step. Aside.”

“Of course your majesty!” Laras bowed and stepped aside.

Vigilant walked up to the third floor, passing the second floor which was littered with toys and playthings. On the third floor a waiting hall awaited them, with a few benches for people to sit on. Vigilant walked up to the door of the clinic and used magic to open it, yet he then realized something strange as it swung open.

“It wasn’t locked...” the prince mumbled.

Oliver walked into the clinic before Vigilant, checking corners as he went. The clinic itself was remarkably clean with a professional setup and real remedies in bottles along the wall. Yet the cabinets around the room had been searched through and papers laid strewn across the floor. Vigilant frowned at the sight and looked around. He took a deep breath and called upon the powers of Ferah, the realm of fire. For a second a presence pressed onto his mind, and he grit his teeth. He built up a wall against the invader and readied a fire spell. Oliver seemed to notice his discomfort.

“Spirit trying to possess you?” the stallion asked.

“Always, every spell you cast is an invitation. At least I know how to handle it,” the prince grumbled.

As they looked through the clinic they found nothing of value but surgical tools and notes on patients. Oliver seemed interested in the patient records, though Vigilant chastised him for looking into such private matters. Eventually, the two opened a door which led into Kira’s office, and it was truly trashed. Lockers had been forced open, the desk partially destroyed, papers thrown onto the floor, and the window was broken. Vigilant eyed the floor beneath the window and shook his head.

“It was broken from the inside. There are no glass shards on the floor,” the prince said.

Oliver eyed it and nodded. “A rushed attempt to throw off anyone investigating. It must have been done in a hurry, considering how sloppy it is.”

“Let’s look around. If you find any letters addressed to me or my mother then give them to me,” Vigilant said.

As the two searched the office they found no more than the thieves. They checked underneath potted plants, rifled through the papers on the desk, floor, and in the cabinets, but they found nothing. Vigilant grew more and more irritated as they searched and he finally sat down by the hearth. Yet it was then he noticed that the hearth had been recently cleaned and that the logs were new. He tilted his head and used a spell to grab the logs and move them aside. The spell summoned yet another pressure on his mind, but he ignored it. The prince looked up in the chimney and his eyes widened.

“I found something!” the prince shouted to his companion.

Oliver approached the prince and watched as the blue-skinned stallion pulled out a parcel from the chimney. It was wrapped in brown paper and an envelope was settled on top of it, tied with a string. Vigilant pulled out the envelope and opened it. He eyed the short letter that fell out and he began reading it.

‘Vigilant Watch, if you are reading this, your highness, then I am dead. I fret writing those words, but it is true. My warning at the funeral could not have come at a better time, for I fear you have no one else you can trust! I have copied the letter your mother wrote to you and enclosed it with my various medical records of your mother’s sickness. Those along with this letter should be enough to prove my words as more than crazy theories. I have discovered that the queen did not fall from some unknown sickness! No, she was poisoned, and only someone close to her could have done it. I fear that the information I carry from your mother and my knowledge of her true cause of death will be more than enough to have me killed. Trust no one in the council, your highness. Trust no one at court, and keep an extra eye open when you are on the streets. Be armed at all times and eat and drink nothing you haven’t seen others eat and drink first. Gods bless you, prince, and I am sorry I will no longer be there to help you.’ - Signed, Kira of Garmain.

Vigilant's eyes widened and he sat down on the floor. He stared at the letter and he trembled. He was not certain if it was from sorrow, anger, or fear. Oliver looked at him with concern and took a step forward when heavily armed guards burst through the door.

“Step away from the prince!” the voice of Sacred Shield cried out into the room.

The guards stepped to the side to allow the mare through the door and she glared daggers at Oliver. The drunk bowed deeply and stepped aside. Sacred Shield walked up to Vigilant and pulled him to his paws. The prince still held the parcel and she looked at it with confusion.

“What is that?” she asked.

Vigilant folded the letter he had been reading and wrapped the parcel in his white cloak. “It does not concern you, Felreth Shield.”

“You are in an office supposedly belonging to Kira of Garmain. If you have found anything relevant to the investigation you will give it to me, Vigilant.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

Oliver cringed and took a step back as the prince faced the leader of the guard. The other armored mares in the room also seemed to suffer from the same fear, and they too took a step back from the conflict.

Vigilant glared at the mare. “I will not cave before this demand. This parcel is mine, and you will not touch it.”

“If that parcel can help us find Kira’s murderer-”

“I will not give you the parcel,” the prince snarled.

Sacred sighed. “Your highness, you need to trust me-”

“I don’t! I do not trust you or anyone else in the palace! Give me one reason to trust you! The only reason you even do this job is because of the pay, there is no loyalty or patriotism from you!”

“How dare you-” Sacred started only to be interrupted again.

“Furthermore, I am not caving before your demands. I am keeping this parcel and I will hurt anyone who tried to take it from me. I do not care if I have to kill, I will not give it to anyone else, is that understood?”

Sacred’s jaw tensed, she growled and slammed her tail into the floor. Oliver jumped back and covered, yet Vigilant held his ground. He leaned in close until he and Sacred were snout to snout, both glaring at one other.

“Escort the prince to the palace, and do not let him out of your sight!” Sacred yelled and marched back out to the clinic. She slammed the door shut on her way out.

The prince deflated and breathed heavily when she was gone, and he hugged the parcel to his chest with magic. He gave Oliver a thankful nod and urged the stallion to go outside. “You will be rewarded for your help today, Oliver, rest assured.”

The brown stallion just nodded and left.

And so Vigilant began his trek back to the palace, with a snarl blanketing his face. Someone had murdered his mother, someone with a lot of power. Every member of the council appeared in his mind’s eye and he sighed. The very ponies he needed to impress could not be trusted. Why must he deal with such things before he had even gained the throne? He muttered under his breath as he walked home, and one thought filled his mind.

‘I will avenge you, mother, no matter the cost.’

Author's Note

Thank you for reading the chapter! I would appreciate it if you could leave some feedback in the comments below and rest assured that this story is not dead. Have a nice day everyone