Diaries of the Anonymous Filly

The next day saw us—Me, Starlight, and Trixie—exiting the hotel at nine in the morning. It certainly didn't feel like nine, though. For one, the sun was at its usual four in the afternoon position. Then there was the temperature, which was closer to that time I got stuck in Texas during a heatwave than it was to what should have been autumn in the Equestrian North East.

Although Starlight was headed to the stadium that the refugee camp was set up in, Trixie was taking me to a salon for a coat-dye treatment. I was a bit hesitant to split off from the mare I'd taken as my sister, but Starlight's reasoning was understandable. Her objective was to drop off the giant ice block and mass water conjuration medallions—although I was the one to make them the previous night, Starlight was the one to bake the clay—with whichever pony was heading up coordinating with the refugees. Since it was a very high-stress time, ponies were probably gonna scoff at the idea of a spell-inscribed clay disc that an earth pony foal made, but if a unicorn came and told them how to do it, they were more likely to buy it.

I'd rather get no credit and see that those refugees get what they need, rather than have foals suffer for the hubris of the grown.

I still remember how surprised Starlight was back in September when I explained my channelling method for triggering a spell inscribed on something. See, because I use the manipulation fields of my hooves to set off a spell, her first concern was how I can even hold them without simply setting them off. At that time, we'd just finished baking my first light medallion, so I tossed it at her; she'd been so startled that she caught it reflexively with her magic. It was more for my own curiosity at that time, but it helped prove my point. Although the spell was exposed to magic, it was nothing without guiding intent.

Why was this important, you ask? Well, we reviewed that little experience last night to make sure we could properly explain it to a layman—laypony?—and have them use it. For good measure, we even explained it to Trixie and then passed her my ice-ball spell and had her fill our glasses with ice, both using magic channelled through her horn, and then her hoof.

Speaking of Trixie, before she left last night—after the whole spell medallion thing—she told me that she knew some runes, and that she could teach them to me if I liked. Starlight was a bit surprised, because Trixie didn't seem the academic type. I, on the other hand, couldn't say yes fast enough. So after we got back from the dye session, it would be time for a magic lesson!

It made a strange sort of sense. The mare was a stage-magician, and made use of a lot of illusion spells—from illusory fireworks to conjuring up caricatures for storytelling. Of course she'd look more deeply into the lore of her affiliated school of magic in order to find the tools needed to make or modify her own spells. The way she told it, every spell in her show was custom tailored. I'm not ashamed to admit that she had my rapt attention like a child during story time.

Evidently, the excitement of learning about the illusion school of magic—albeit from a very unconventional source—was enough to keep my mind occupied as I went to bed, so that I didn't lapse into a nightmare that night. Instead, I was successfully able to conjure up my usual void. That's not to say it brought me comfort, though. Much like my time in the mirror world, I felt like there was something—or someone that wasn't Princess Luna—watching me. The weird thing is that when I called out, thinking it was Harmony, there was no response; just a tinge of fear. Hell, the presence just hid... regardless of my own power over my dreams.

I didn't bring that up in the morning when we grabbed breakfast in the hotel dining room. Yeah, I know I should have. I'm her responsibility, and she cares about me. Telling her would just make her worry. I'm not cracking up, but if I tell her that I think I'm being watched in my dreams by someone who isn't princess Luna, she's gonna think I am.

That brought us to the now. I was in the hotel room with Starlight, getting ready to go. "Are you sure you don't want to wear your cloak instead?" Starlight asked, watching me as I finished putting on my little pony shoes. I was dressed in my track jacket and skirt from the other world, and had my saddlebags on. In one side, I had a small bit satchel separated from my ill-gotten gambling gains with enough to get a coat-dying session, lunch for me and Trixie, and then splurge if I got bored. In the other was Serenity and the false horn—now transmuted to match Starlight's coat. "Your clothes kind of stand out, which seems like the opposite of what you want."

I just shrugged and stepped past her to open the door. "My cloak would stand out just as much here. While it might fit in where there are a lot more unicorns and mystics, like in Canterlot, it stands out in a modern urban environment," I countered, subconsciously rubbing the one spell medallion in my sleeve that I'd been permitted for self defence. Gotta keep the water and ice ones on me, too. "The skirt and jacket aren't all that out of place here, even if the society is mostly nudist."

She raised a hoof as if to protest, before dropping it as a smile creased her face. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the pockets," she teased. "Just remember that even if he is out there, he probably isn't expecting you to be anywhere near Manehattan, never mind right under his nose."

With that, we stepped out into the hall and met up with Trixie. I barely paid any attention as Starlight gave her the 'Anon-watching rundown'. It was kinda weird from my perspective, because it seemed more like the sort of instructions you'd give somepony watching your dog for the week. "She's a bit anxious in crowds, and although she's been getting better about physical contact, she's still rather touch-averse," Starlight was saying as we walked down the hall to the stairwell that would take us to the first floor. "Let her initiate any contact. If she starts to panic, she has an enchanted stuffed possum—"

"Serenity," I piped up. "Her name is Serenity."

"Right," Starlight said, casting a surprised glance my way. To be fair, last time we talked about the plush, I hadn't settled on a name yet. "Serenity has a calming enchantment, so if Anon starts having a panic or anxiety attack, Serenity is in her left saddlebag."

"Should Trixie and Anon join you at the stadium afterwards, or...?"

I stopped paying attention by the time we exited out into the lobby. Rather, I was looking around, trying to find the source of surprise and apprehension I was picking up on. This wasn't some coincidence; it didn't start when Starlight or Trixie came into view of the lobby. Instead, it didn't begin until I had. The problem was that,aside from ponies crowded around the front desk, there were more than a few ponies seated on couches or cushions reading newspapers or magazines. There was just too much background emotion to pick up on a clear direction other than being able to say for sure that it was in this room.

Is the hotel being watched already?

My initial reaction, which I found myself having to reign in, was to scamper ahead and stick close to Starlight. Instead, at the last moment, I got closer to Trixie's side instead. I stayed that way until we were out of the building. Both of them clearly noticed, but neither was pushy enough to ask me what was up. That was good, because I didn't exactly want to explain. After all, they might just think I was being paranoid.

Aren't I? I asked myself as Trixie and I split off at the hotel doors and began our journey through the streets of Manehattan. The feeling dissipated as soon as we were outside, but if I was right, they would likely follow. Who even could be watching me? If Blueblood assigned a guard to watch over me, surely he'd just tell us. Why would they feel apprehension upon seeing me, anyway?

There was of course the possibility that this was some spy for the Storm King's forces. I blew up one of their airships and likely killed several of their soldiers in he process. Would they want me dead? Or would they just snatch me up, pump me for information, and then force me to make spell medallions for them?

The feeling of apprehension was gone now, but I was definitely being watched. Several blocks from the hotel, I started feeling that same emotional presence. The surprise was gone, replaced by a sense of confusion, but it was that same flavour of apprehension I picked up on in the lobby. Unlike before, however, I didn't instinctively move closer to Trixie. Instead, I waited an extra block before coming up with a method to sneakily take a peek.

See, at one point, we had to use a crosswalk and change directions in order to get us to our destination. So while we were waiting for carriages to stop and grant us passage, I took the time to look back down the sidewalk behind us. There was nopony there, surprisingly—not a single being. They're invisible...

As we were crossing the street, I leaned close to Trixie and whispered, "Say, Trixie; how common are invisibility spells."

Maybe it was the look on my face, but to my surprise, Trixie didn't respond in her usual boisterous voice. "Not very," she replied, giving me a worried look. "Trixie considered using one for her show, but it was rather difficult to get right. The only ponies who really use them are bodyguards, crooks and spies. Why?"

"We're being followed," I answered casually as we finished crossing the street. "Can't get an exact gauge at this distance, but they've been tailing us since the hotel."

"Should we go get the police?" she asked. Alarm was starting to roll off of her. There might even have been a bead of sweat beginning to form just beneath the brim of her hat.

I just shook my head. "They'll back off if we approach a police station and then the cops'll think we're nuts," I explained. "Don't follow; I'll be right back. The place we're going was Rosie's Salon, right?"

Before Trixie could utter a response, I bounced once, carefully launching my saddlebags off my back. Even as they landed across her withers, I ducked into the nearest alley. It was a dead-end alley with various doors, and about half-way down, there was a dumpster. Beside that, there looked to be a row of trash cans and even a few empty beer bottles.

It took a lot of effort to not remember the day of my mother's death looking at those bottles, never mind touching them. It's too easy to see one slick with blood, spinning away from my foot as I enter that bedroom. That presence was still far enough away that I couldn't get an exact bead on them, which meant they couldn't have been at the alley mouth yet, so I smashed one of the bottles completely in front of the dumpster, and broke off the end of the other, scattering the glass in front of the cans.

With that prepared, I used the dumpster and cans as cover. I had just enough of a field of view between the two bins to see the second bed of glass and the space above it. If they followed me in, I reckoned I'd have just enough time after hearing the first glass trap disturbed to prep my 'stunner' and nail them the moment they hit the second one. Then, it's just a matter of pumping them for information. I can't exactly turn them over to the guard because I can't exactly prove they were doing anything, or even that they were stalking us.

About three minutes passed before I sensed them at the alley mouth. There was no sound of hooves on the pavement, and I realised that if they really were stalking me, it didn't make sense to not have some sort of muffling spell as well. That explained why they didn't seem to be making any noise as they drew closer.

"Where the buck did that filly go," came the gruff muttering of a stallion. Funny, he even has a Bronx accent. "I know I saw her—" Crunch! I began charging my spell, wincing as my mana pathways protested. "Ow! Boss is gonna buckin' skin me if I can't confirm..." Crunch! He stepped into my field of fire. "Why is all this broken glass here!?"

Much to my surprise, I could actually just make out the silhouette of a pony, making just the faintest distortion in the air. That made it easier. I could see his head swivel in my direction, probably having noticed the blue glow. "That would be because you walked into a trap," I said as the spell discharged, and the blue shell of hyper-compressed air slammed into the slight shimmering in the air. I found myself sneering as a brown unicorn with a jet-black mane flickered into existence, falling onto his side with one hoof clutching his chest. With the way he's wheezing, I clearly knocked the wind out of him.

Without further ado, I darted out from behind the garbage cans with my broken bottle. I brought my free forehoof down to grasp his horn in my manipular field so that he couldn't cast anything, while the other held the bottle just centimetres from his eye. "Right, so here's how this works," I hissed with as much malice as I could muster. "You're not gonna move, or attempt a spell, lest your horn goes crunch. I ask a question, and you give an answer." Just for good measure, I tightened my grip on his horn just enough for him to wince. "Do you understand?"

I could feel the alarm radiating off of him, but more than that, I felt the fear. "Yes."

"Why were you tailing me, and who do you work for?" I demanded. "I'll know if you're lying, by the way." I'm not actually sure I'll be able to pick up any deceitful intent over all this fear, but he doesn't have to know that.

The stallion's anxiety grew. "I was just supposed to follow you, see if I could verify your identity," he said quickly—too quickly to feel like a lie. "I can't tell you who I work for; the boss'll kill me if I rat him out."

A glance at his flank revealed a pair of binoculars. Was he supposed to be some sort of lookout or spy? Chances are good he's telling the truth—that he's just supposed to watch me. "Do you really wanna fuck around and find out whether I won't if you don't, my guy?" I asked, throwing a little bit of playfulness into my tone, which honestly just made me sound crazy. I could feel his fear spiking even higher.

"Fact of the matter is, I could claim you tried to lure me into this alley and do things to me—" For good measure, I began to fake stutter. "—and that I w-was j-j-just defending m-myself." I dropped the cutesy stutter and went back to the cold tone of voice. "From what my Auntie tells me, the guard doesn't use necromancers, so it's not like you'd be able to argue." As I spoke, I slowly started moving the broken bottle from his eye down to roughly where his carotid should be, tapping him gently on the side of his neck with a slight smirk.

His eye widened as I brought the bottle back up to his eye. "Raging Storm... Raging Storm sent me to watch you," the stallion blubbered. His fear and anxiety was so high I wouldn't have been surprised if he pissed himself. Still, it confirmed my suspicions. "The mayor told him about you, said you might've been his missing step-daughter. You look just like the kid." The wise-guy frowned, looking kind of worried now. "If you're really not her, kid, you really oughta get out of town. You can't just cross the Blackwing Cartel like this."

Giving him an unimpressed look, I gritted my teeth. "It's a good thing that you're going to go tell Mr. Storm that it's just a case of mistaken identity," I said in a syrupy sweet voice. "My legal guardian is Princess Twilight Sparkle, and I think you wanna fuck with the crown even less than I wanna fuck with your little mafia." His eyes were practically bugging out of his skull now, and his tail began to curl between his legs. "If I so much as catch wind that any more of his people are following me, my big sister, or her magician friend, he's gonna find out why I'm currently near the top of the Storm King's army's most wanted list. Capisci?"

He nodded ever so slightly, so as not to get scratched by the bottle. "Good, now I'm going to leave. You're to wait five minutes and then stand up and leave. Otherwise, we'll find out if the spell I hit you with is strong enough to blow off a unicorn's horn." Releasing his horn, I stepped away from him, and then dropped the broken bottle. "Don't forget."

~ 34 ~

"Sorry about the wait, Trixie," I said as I stepped into the salon. I could see her talking to somepony behind the counter, but at my height, the counter was in the way. "That stalker won't be bothering us anymore." In a much quieter voice, I whispered, "If he knows what's good for him." She gave me a look that was either confused or uneasy. "That said, I think the mayor needs to be reminded what VIP and friend of the crown means."

"That's... good?" she replied in an unsure tone. She glanced at whoever was on the other side of the counter. "Trixie apologises, Rosie, this is her now." As I stand up on my hind hooves, putting them against the side of the counter to peer over, she continued, "Anon, this is Rosie Locks, the owner of this salon and a friend of Trixie's. Rosie, this is—"

The elderly mare on the other side gaped at me, her cerise eyes widening in surprise. "Emerald Flicker, as I live and breathe!" she exclaimed, holding one celadon hoof in front of her mouth. "I haven't seen you in years! Not since your mother..."

What is it with ponies recognising me today? I wondered, watching as the elderly earth pony mare hobbled around the counter to get a good look at me. Her exquisitely-kept mane reminded me a great deal of Rarity's, although whatever colour it had once been had long ago faded to white. What was worse was there was a sense of familiarity about her.

"You, um, you knew me from before?" I asked, feeling a lot less certain. It was one thing to put on an act to try and put the fear of God into some mobster schmuck who worked for my, er Emerald's step-father, but could I bring myself to lie to this pony?

"Before?" She radiated concern as she drew closer. Upon watching me wince, she froze, that aura of concern morphing to guilt. "What did that stallion do to you, sweetpea?"

I shrugged. "I don't know," I admitted. Best go as close to the truth as possible, and only omit the complicated bits. "I only remember bits and pieces from before I woke up in Canterlot just under two months ago, and they usually come in flashes." I let her lead us further into the salon, glancing around as we went. "Princess Celestia kept me at the castle while two of her maids taught me how to be a pony again. It's not all bad, though. I think I'm one of very few earth ponies with a magic-related talent. That's why I live with Princess Twilight in Ponyville now."

We paused in front of a framed photograph on the wall. There was the salon owner, Rosie Locks, alongside a familiar pegasus mare and a little foal swaddled up in a blanket. Rosie stared at the photo with a mournful gaze. "Don't know if that's a blessing or a curse that you don't remember," she whispered. "Everypony knew what Raging did to your mother was no accident, but the Manehattan Police and the district attorney did nothing. Probably on the take, just like that oaf of a mayor. Even before you 'went missing', you all but vanished from the public eye at four, and nopony did a damn thing."

"That's why we're here, Ms. Locks," I said. "I saw the missing poster when I got in with the rest of the Canterlot refugees, and one of his goons was tailing us earlier. We were hoping you could dye my coat—maybe hide the burn discolourations, too—and change my mane up a bit so that I don't look as much like me."

From there, we were led to a curtained-off part of the salon that seemed to have a bit of shower, along with a sort of sprayer contraption, where she gave me the rundown on how things would work. Trixie was able to demonstrate the colour we wanted to have my coat dyed while we discussed pricing. To my surprise, she had an apprentice on staff, and offered to slash the price down to three quarters if we agreed to let her apprentice take care of my mane.

She led me back out to one of the salon chairs and called in a brown filly with a pinkish mane and a scissors cutie-mark that reminded me a lot of an apple. Turns out that her apprentice, Babs Seed, was Apple Bloom's cousin and headed the Manehattan branch of their talent-mark acquisition society, the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I guess she even recognised me from a photo somepony snapped of me and the girls at some point. Fuckin' small world, I tell you. And if I thought that goon had a strong Bronx accent, this filly is even worse.

Babs was more than happy to style my mane and tail. We decided on Auntie Twilight's mane-style due to how different it was from my usual long and wild style, and Trixie even joked that maybe we should dye my coat Twilight's colour instead. So while the apprentice trimmed my mane and tail, followed by straightening them both, I regaled everypony with the story about the time I got burned and put Ebony and Ivory in their places. It stung a little when Rosie suggested that Breeze would've been disappointed in me for getting into a fight like that, even if it was to protect myself or somepony else. It was for that reason I refrained from talking about my other more recent fights.

After that, my mane and tail were wrapped up in special towels and I was led into the curtained area where I removed my jacket, skirt, shoes, and glasses. All of those went to Trixie, since she still had my bag, although I asked her to keep my self-defence medallion on her. Then, since neither Babs nor Rosie had ever seen anything like my spell medallions before, I spent the time they were hosing me down with the coat-dying solution explaining my specific field of magic. After all, there's not a whole lot you can do when every inch of you is getting dyed.

Once all the excess solution was rinsed out of my coat and I was towelled dry, I had Trixie pass me the ice medallion from my jacket sleeve. It was at this point that I noticed that my coat was now more of a mulberry than a heliotrope. Although it was sorta funny, it wasn't exactly what I asked for. I wasn't about to complain though. When they held up a mirror in front of me, I looked like a completely different filly. We didn't put any streaks in, though.

"Em—no, Anon, it sounds like you've had to mature a lot in such a short time, but you've got a good life for yourself in Ponyville now," Rosie said, leaning down to give me a gentle nuzzle after settling up the tab. Maybe it was just because the part of me that was still Emerald recognised her as her mother's friend, but I didn't shy away. Sure, it was awkward as hell because she was more of an acquaintance, but it was the pony way. "It sounds like you're living the sort of life your Mom would have wanted for you. Stay safe while you're here."

"I will!" I said as Trixie settled my saddlebags back on my back. As for my self-defence medallion, I slipped it into my mane behind my ear, where it stayed put thanks to the arms of my glasses. Glancing to Babs, I gave her a nod. "I'll tell Apple Bloom and the others that you said hi when I see them next."

At that, Trixie pushed open the door and stepped out, holding it for me. I was still looking towards the two ponies inside the salon, however, rather than looking where I was going, because I bumped into a pair of stallions who were entering. Two very familiar stallions, come to think of it... In fact, wasn't one of them somepony I just threatened not too long ago?

"Hey, watch where you're goin', ya little brat," boomed the pitch-black pegasus as he shoved past me. The sound of his voice sent my anxiety into overdrive, and only the sense that I needed to get the fuck out of here was keeping me calm. Thankfully, he wasn't exactly looking at me, but rather at the mare behind the counter. "You'll say nothin' about nothin' if ya know what's good for ya."

If Raging Storm had just looked down at me, it might've been all over. That said, the unicorn did look at me, and did a double take upon seeing me. In fact, as he looked me in the eye, he went pale. I just backed out the door on three legs, holding my free hoof in front of my lips before making a throat slitting motion. Don't say a word, my dude.

"Rosie, Rosie, Rosie," Storm was saying in a seemingly chiding tone. "A little birdie told me my little 'princess' is back in town, and now the idiot I sent to check out a lead is scared shitless. She didn't come by her mother's old haunt, has she?"

Please don't hurt her, I pleaded silently to Harmony. Please just let him buy whatever she tells him...

Once the door swung shut behind the two, I booked it down the street. Tears were beginning to fill the corners of my eyes, and my heart rate was spiking. My ears were beginning to ring as my panic attack started to take hold. I didn't care that I was getting ahead of Trixie or that she was having to run to catch up. There needed to be much more space between me and Raging Storm.

"Anon, wait!" Trixie called out once we were a few blocks away from the salon. "Trixie knows you're scared, but you need to slow down!"

I didn't listen. My body just kept on running, barely even conscious of the fact that I wasn't the one guiding my hooves. I'd been in full sprint for probably five minutes before I came to a stop at the gate of a large fenced in area. The area within was grassy, marred by evenly distributed marble monuments and cypress trees. No... This was a cemetery. In fact, this was the Cypress Fields Cemetery—as stated on the sign by the gate. I knew—Emerald knew—who was buried here.

"Momma's here..." I whispered without even intending to. No, it wasn't me... I started walking towards the gate, but it felt like these movements weren't my own. I'm not doing this. A wave of dizziness washed over me as I struggled to force myself to sit down. My muscles felt like they were fighting against me, even as I pulled Serenity out of my bag. I need to calm down... I wrapped my forelegs around the stuffed animal, felt the relief wash over me...

... and then I was falling into darkness, the sobbing of a little girl filling my ears.