Mirror: Book I - Mind

The repetitive clicking of the mechanical cash register emanated throughout the storefront like a monotonous cuckoo clock swinging back over and over again. It was the same order of operations each and everyday, the same customers and the same items, running by the counter top from the moment the mare clocked in to the moment she’s set to clock out this afternoon.

The cashier’s eyes swiveled cautiously against the store’s shelves as she mindlessly rung up one pony after another, to the point where she could quite literally do it all with one hoof tied behind her back. She planned to claim bragging rights when she did it with a blindfold. But now it all felt too comfortable to her, she began to feel like she belonged in the retail business and it was tearing her mind to pieces. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she found herself stuck with it.

“Mare Do Well, Unmasked?”

“Where do they come up with these ridiculous stories?”

“That’s no mare under that mask, anyhow! Are they nuts or what?”

Slowly, the conversation of the ponies dimmed away behind the isles, the only fleeting leeway the cashier had to distract herself before the strange news vanished from ear range. She hadn’t even moved and already the clicking of the register returned to her receptors, the sliding of the items and the nonsensical chattering and bickering of the customers and her fellow employees.

“Miss?”

I can’t take this anymore.

“Miss~?”

I want to get out, I want to be free again.

“Miss!”

Cherry Berry jolted back to her senses and looked forward, an impatient glare staring her down. Several other ponies behind her joined in with their looks and tapping hooves.

“Miss, can I get going awl-ready?” The front of the line complained again. “My dauw-ghter’s cute-ceañera is next week, I haven’t got awl day.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cherry rushed about. “So sorry, ma’am.”

The rung up was done and the cashier received a snooty turn of a muzzle before the lady trotted out of the store and the next slammed their items upon the counter. Again and again they came by, one by one, in a seemingly endless line.

I can’t go on like this.

Trotting up the path leading down the old park road, the lone mare climbed up a small hill to watch the lasting rays of the sunset pierce the sky with an abundance of oranges, yellows and reds, the hues dancing together like the last song for a dream lost to the wind. For a short while then the pony began to wonder why she was even born an earth pony in the first place, or rather why she was born with such thoughts and such drive that made it near impossible to achieve her greatest dreams, given her current situation and the limitations of her own body. Cherry seemed to understand in that very moment upon the hill that when somepony wanted something, everypony was born with the drive to chase after it, but only very few were ever gifted to achieve it. Despite the warm air, the swell breeze, the fleeting chirps of the birds and the brilliant summer sky beyond, the world seemed like a cold and unforgivable place.

The blonde, pink coated mare looked down into her saddle bag and produced her prized aviator’s helmet given to her by her mother, and gifted by the father she had never met. Her gaze led along the expanse of grass leading down to the river at the bottom of the hill. Cherry Berry raised the helmet in her hoof, reeled back…and failed to cast it away. She clutched the helmet tightly within her embrace, damning herself for ever thinking of such a thing, damning herself to never let her dream die so easily ever again. A new fire glinted within the pony’s eyes as she stuffed the helmet back into her saddle and trotted down the hill, taking one last gaze at the setting sun before trotting home.

“Sis, I’m home~!” Cherry called into her home.

She trotted past her front door and clicked it shut, tucking the mail into her bag before resting it to the front room’s coffee table. As for her calling, there was yet to be a response. Normally her sister would deliver a holler or two, or beckon her younger into the other room to get something or other for her.

Lazy mare. Cherry thought intrusively, getting a little frustrated that the mail was once again left to sit out in the mailbox until she had gotten home from her day job. Then again, they had experienced that garden mishap not too recently, and for all of it Berry Punch might’ve still been a little shaken up. Sure, it was her own fault that her sister decided to bite more than she could chew and drink herself into some stranger’s garden that night, but the onslaught of the crowd’s howling and accusations were simply too much to bare.

For what it seemed worth, Cherry trusted her sister this time around to getting better with her drinking habits. The vacancy of bottles filling the house was a tell-tale sign of improvement, but old habits could always come back to bite a mare in the ass, as mother always used to say. A single minute then had passed and yet her sister had given no response. Perhaps she was taking a bath, or a nap, one of the two was no surprise. In the meantime Cherry pulled the mail from her bag and began leafing through the notes. Store discounts, Barnyard Bargains Sale-athon, all of that nonsense. The return of the “P.F.OP.” meeting is what seemed to catch Cherry’s eye, knowing that it would be yet another gathering to drag her sister to in an effort to make things better for the both of them. With the thought in mind the wondering mare trotted further into her home in search of her sister.

“Berry~?” Cherry trotted into the kitchen. “If you’ve been stealing my oats again, I swear-”

Kitchenware and vegetables were strewn across the room, a bowl of oats splattered against he far cabinet. There her sister laid on the floor, cold and shaking, curled up into a ball like an old lady collapsed upon the bathroom floor. Whistling, ragged breathes struggled to enter and escape the fallen pony’s lungs. In a single heartbeat, Cherry fell to her sister’s side.

“Sweet Celestia, what happened to you?”

Worst yet, hundreds of small, red bumps fell beneath Berry’s eyes, her ears, and dotted her hooves all the way up to her barrel.

The captain of the weather patrol pegasi sat motionless by the bedside as the victim of the bakery fire sat up in his bed taking small sips from his glass of water to speak between ragged, smoke-scarred breathes. His voice was like a raspy buzz at best, and although Sunshower struggled to understand him from time to time she felt that visiting the worn down colt was the best she could do for now. Mr. Cake took a long, weary glance to the open window as evening time was once again approaching, and a heavy sigh escaped his nostrils.

“Makes you wonder sometimes, huh?” He rasped.

“What’s that?” Sunshower asked.

“I can’t be the only pony on this planet who looks out on a sunset…” He took a long, slow breath. “…and wonder for just a small moment what life is really all about.”

The pegasus spared a sight to the outdoors, the air buzzing and birds fluttering by. She traded her gaze back to Mr. Cake with a blank, misunderstood expression. Mr. Cake almost chuckled in response.

“I may not look it, but deep down I deem myself a pretty mean pony, Sunshower.” He went on. “You’d never believe that the kind, patient colt you see out on the show floor is the same as the one cursing and throwing trays behind the kitchen doors. Before I had met my wife I was a manager at one of the plaza cafes in Manehattan. During those days there was no room for creativity, no time to make the perfect pastry. Work, get paid, and head back home stiff as a brittle, knowing I’d have to get up the next morning just to do it all over again.” There was another pause, and another breath. “Ponies always got on my nerves, and the amount of dishes to clean at the end of the day was enough to make me blow a fuse. So, I quit, took a train all the way to Ponyville thinking I’d start a business all on my own. And that’s when I met her…”

Sunshower felt her eyes scanning over the stallion’s form as his speech had gone on. She studied his scars and his bruises, the way the burns singed his yellow fur to deep orange and red, almost as though the etchings of past mistakes were attempting to crawl out from beneath the over-skin. The captain briefly studied her own fur color and its similar hues, and her memory flashed back to her lashings out at her young scout pegasus. When Mr. Cake had returned his sights to Sunshower to see her preoccupied within thought, the colt simply struggled a grin and looked down in front of him.

“You’re not going to make me do all the talking, are you, captain?” Mr. Cake asked her.

“No, sir.” She almost saluted. “I mean-yes, sir. I mean-”

Now the colt was chuckling. “Just try to relax a little more from now on, agreed?”

“Yes…” The pegasus agreed. “I think I do need to work on that a little.”

With that, the stallion nodded and rested his head back. “I’ll be needing to visit Town Hall sometime soon to negotiate insurance claims. Even if the fire may have been our own fault, there’s got to be at least something we can pull out of the damages. It’s all our family has…”

“This never would have happened if Ponyville had a procedure lined up for fire emergencies.” Sunshower noted. “To think that this town has been on the map for over a hundred years, and yet nothing has been done about it. It kind of makes you think…” Her speech drifted away.

Mr. Cake wordlessly looked to his companion, awaiting the end of her sentence, Simply, the mare closed her mouth and stowed her thoughts away.

“No, never mind…” She mumbled.

“You’re a brave pony, Sunshower.” The stallion started calmly. “But you lack clarity. Has anypony ever told you that?”

The mare simply looked upon him with perplexity and slowly shook her head.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, and that means don’t take it at face-value either. A pony doesn’t always have to narrow their life to their work and accept the facts as they see them, because when you do that you’re just taking everything at face-value. There’s more to life than this, and deep down I know you know that. Sometimes…it does good to take a good long look at a sunset to wonder what life is really all about.”

Sunshower sat there with a slow nod buzzing around her head. Her eyes had not even returned to the stallion.

“And it would do your team a favor to ease up on them every now and then…” His voice turned solemn. “Especially Derpy.”

The captain looked up and blinked with surprise. “You heard…?”

“Every word of it.” The stallion admitted with a slow nod.

“I’m sorry.” She worded as though routine.

“Don’t wear yourself down, you’ve only got room to improve now.” He replied, resting back into his pillow. “Besides, I’m not the pony you should be apologizing to. You saved my life and my little foals, I’ll be in your debt for as long as I live.”

Sunshower clicked the door shut and held her hoof upon the knob as Mr. Cake’s words reverberated back through her thoughts. …you lack clarity. Has anypony ever told you that? There was, as far as the pegasus could remember, another pony who had doubted her outlook and experience on life before. There was no doubt in her mind that that pony was in fact her father. The words her old colt had spoken to her that day were all but wisps fleeting in the wind, to become invisible with the rest and never return again. The captain found herself walking down the hospital corridors once again, and a single beat later she looked through an open door to find a familiar face seated next to a respiratory mask, much like the same Mr. Cake had been equipped with, lying within the bed.

“Cherry Berry?” The captain peeked inside.

“I see somepony likes to wander the hospital.” The earth pony chuckled from within.

Sunshower briefly eyed the mare lying in the bed and gingerly stepped inside the room, surmising it rude to simply walk by without even a hello. “Do they pay you to transport patients, now?” The pegasus attempted.

“This one was all hooves, adrenaline too, I imagine.” Cherry admitted. “My sister scares me like that quite often.”

The captain looked the patient up and down. Long, seeping breathes sounded from the respiratory machine while thin bandages covered her hooves and parts of her face. “I don’t imagine this is a common case of the flu?” Sunshower wondered.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Cherry explained. “It’s most commonly known as Rose Gardener’s Disease, but the doctors called it a certain type of fungus…”

“Sporothrix.” Doctor Horse iterated. “The fungal spores had entered Berry’s lungs and began mutating as the week went by. Due to her excessive alcohol intake her immune system was unfortunately on the downside, and thus has struggled to fight off the disease. We don’t get many cases of the Gardener’s Disease, but when we do they most certainly aren’t this devastating.” He studied the microscopic sample of the fungus beneath the lens as he spoke on. “As per it’s name, sporothrix generally grows on several types of moss and rose bushes, typically on the ends of the thorns.”

“Berry Punch is no gardener.” Ronin noted. “There’s no way the spores would have entered her system through any open wounds, it’s astounding to believe that breathing them in alone was able to do this much damage.”

“And that, my young investigator, is where the skepticism over these samples play their part.” The doctor scooted aside and ushered the foreigner over. “Take a look into the microscope, tell me what you see.”

Ronin leaned above the lens and slowly lined his vision up with the magnified image until a collection of tiny, blue-violet spheres connected to a thin, jagged line came into view. For all of his time spent gardening and learning about various types of plants back in Neighsia, very few opportunities had come when he was able to take a look at such species on a microscopic level, and each time the sights filled him with awe and wonder. He knew, unmistakably, that the round figures of the dots he saw now were in fact fungus spores, almost unlike the box-like, rectangular structures of plant cells.

“These are the spore samples?” Ronin asked.

“Yes.” Doctor Horse paused. “From the planter outside the window.”

Ronin took a brief, confused glance to the roses lying just outside the open window, and returned his attention back to the lens.

“And these…” The doctor slid the original plate out from the tray and inserted a new one. “Are the samples extracted from Berry Punch.”

For a short second, Ronin could not understand why the lens were filled with nothing but a sick, lime green, only to realize he was looking at a single spore. He slowly turned the knob and zoomed out, discovering that these viridescent behemoths were at least ten times the size of the original spores. They pulsed, oozed and infected every green-free entity in sight. Green… Ronin thought momentarily. Immediately, his mind stemmed back to his first meeting with Rose Luck. Green eyes and roses…no, it can’t be!

“You realize what this is, don’t you?” Doctor Horse asked him quietly.

“Mutation…?” Ronin shook his head, he couldn’t even kid himself. “No, it’s sabotage.”

“And you realize now why I give this information to you.” He scooped the plate back up into his hooves and tucked it away into a small, disc container, sealing it shut with a strip of red tape. “You have your culprit’s weapon, now you need only to find them and use it against their case. If you have any leads, any suspicions whatsoever, I advise you pursue them at once.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Ronin quickly stood and bowed with overflowing gratefulness. “I’ll be sure to repay you one day.”

“All I ask is that you not let this opportunity go to waste. We’re all counting on you, and your partner.”

Ronin gave yet another bow and nod of affirmation as he sped past the doctor and swung open the door, ready to bolt down the hallway in search of his fellow investigator.

“And, Ronin-” Doctor Horse halted.

The colt stopped short and poked his head back into the room.

“When this is all over, be sure to come back and see me.” He nodded subtly. “I will be waiting for you.”

Ronin delivered an estranged but sure nod, and clicked the door shut. Tucking the sealed case into his bag he fastened the latch and began trotting down the hall with the doctor’s words flowing faintly within his mind. Quite unsure of what exactly he meant, or what he might have in store for him when he returned, the young unicorn persisted down the hall and made his exit from the hospital. His hooves carried him to the south part of town, Ponyville’s residential district.

Nightfall strung across the horizon as Ronin rode past the buildings and bounded up the walk to Amethyst’s home. There was a still sense of unease looming around the abode, but regardless he went on and approached the door, eagerly rapping his hoof against the surface and taking a glance or two at the nearby window to attempt and signal somepony within. A solid ten seconds or so passed before he raised his hoof to knock again, but the door swung open, and nopony was there. He looked down, and there was the little sister.

“Ano…” He had forgotten her name.

The little unicorn cocked her head to the side.

“Is Amethyst here?” He asked warily.

She blinked, fixed her head and turned back into the hallway. “Amy, your boyfriend is here~!”

Silence reigned around the halls and the rooms as the little unicorn looked back up at the visitor and delivered a small, knowing grin which simply said wait for it…

Then, there was a watery splash followed by a crash and a bang against the door upstairs. The elder sister tumbled past the doorway and came rolling down the stairs, landing at the bottom of the flight with her head to the floor and her rump in the air. She was soaked from horn to hoof and carried a river of foamy bubbles along with her. As Ronin and the younger sister paused to look at Amethyst as a rubber ducky bounced down the stairs and landed on top of her head. Quickly, the mare took notice to the young stallion at the door and shielded herself with her hooves, one over her chest and the other over her delicates.

The little unicorn blinked again and smirked. “Your boyfriend is-”

“I know he’s here! What does it look like I’m doing?” Amethyst snarled.

“Overreacting?”

The young mare grumbled and got up to her hooves, shoving the little sister away as she went to confront her partner at the entrance. “What?” She blurted. “What do you want?”

Ronin struggled to render his words at the sight of the wet, sleek Amethyst before him. He shook his head and reached into his bag, slowly producing the small, disc case. She stared upon the casing for a long moment until she realized what it meant, and looked back to her partner with searching, anticipating eyes.

“The patterns, they were true all along.” Amethyst mumbled to herself.

The young stallion eyed his companion in anticipation as she trotted to the other side of her room and quietly threw the curtains over the window. She levitated the glass fitting from her desk candle and focused her horn to the wick, generating a small spark and lighting the stick ablaze before resting the case back over. Ronin approached with his sealed disc and quietly set it down as Amethyst eased back on her bed and filtered the memories through her mind.

“I remember now.” She continued. “Every ransacked garden we searched and investigated, only one kind of flower stood among the rest, and those were the roses. If there were any, of course.”

Ronin got to work carefully prying open the sample case as Amethyst went on.

“When we went to help Cherry Berry and her sister, I had noticed that some of the roses were trampled too. That’s when I saw it, the break in the pattern.” Amethyst deduced. “The townsponies might’ve been quick to blame Berry, but that was only a single instance. There’s no reason for our culprit to be as reckless as a drunk, she would’ve been caught by then.”

“Drunk or not, the inevitable would only take place.” The other unicorn levitated the plate from the small case and hovered it before his partner. “This is a sample of the spores Berry had ended up breathing in when she fell drunk in the garden. It’s in my understanding that although they’re mutated with certain types of magical aspects, the host spores originate from the thorns off of rose bushes. Therefore, only roses are immune to its effects.”

“Then it’s true?” Amethyst looked longingly into Ronin’s gaze. “Is Rose Luck our culprit?”

He turned with an uncertain stare to the floor. “I’m not sure why…”

The young mare stood up. “We should turn her in right away.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s not enough to go off of here, our evidence is too shallow.”

“If we have a suspect then we should at least inform the Mayor.”

“Only if she’ll keep quiet about it, which I highly doubt.” Ronin went on. “If we try to suspect Rose now she’ll accuse us of blatant lies and we won’t have anymore evidence to back up our claims. It’ll only get harder to make her confess after that.”

“Then…” Amethyst’s eyes darted around her room desperately. “We’ll have to test it first.”

“The sample?” Ronin looked at the plate.

Amethyst swung the vase of flowers from her bedside table and over to her desk. “Use these.” She ushered with her horn.

“But…” Ronin studied the bouquet. “These are the flowers I left you on the first day we met.”

“Yeah, so?”

A silent, sharp sting cold as ice pierced the very core of Ronin’s circulatory system. His eyes dulled and threatened tears as he stared at the mare with levels of pain he never realized possible before. “Honestly,” he sulked. “I’m surprised you’ve kept them for this long.”

“There’s no reason to let any good flowers go to waste, what do you think our job’s been all about?” She considered the vase again. “Besides, my mom’s been helping me water them.”

“Ah, now I see why they’re still alive.”

“Just use the spores, already!” The mare snarled, shedding a sliver of the curtains apart and placing the vase upon the windowsill. “I don’t want to breath any of that stuff when I’m sleeping, so aim it near the window.”

He supposed that working in a well ventilated area would be a better suit for the situation, but time seemed to be wearing thin with every discovery they had made thus far, knowing their suspect might be working twice as fast as they were. Ronin stared at the plate of spores for another moment and walked over next to the sill where his partner stood, levitating the glass piece above the bouquet with steadily diminishing hesitance. He scraped the fungus stained surface with raw kinesis and allowed the dust to flutter onto the plants below, rubbing the piece on the petals and the stems for good measure. With quickness and care he surrounded the casing in his field and shut the plate tight over again, resting it to the desk as the two investigators studied the flowers closely.

A nod and a long moment of staring passed by, and the room was silent.

“I don’t see anything happening.” Amethyst noted.

“The infection process may take time.” Ronin followed. “After all, this is only a small dose at best. Who knows how much the culprit used for each raid?”

“For a whole garden? I’d say a helluva lot more, especially considering multiple gardens would decay in a single night.”

“That is true.” The colt replied dutifully. “They probably have an entire arsenal of this fungus ready to use, which might only prove my greenhouse theory…”

The young mare gave a subtle nod as her attention remained stuck to the flowers in the vase. She humphed with frustration when nothing more was happening and her patience was clearly wearing thin. “Maybe it needs some light to work.” Amethyst said, reaching for the candle.

“How is that going to help?”

“I dunno, maybe it’s daylight activated?” She shrugged.

“Are you aware that even if that somehow did work, we would need the sun for that?”

“Or maybe the moon.” The young mare gasped.

“Where do you get these ideas from?” Ronin shook his head.

“No, look!” Amethyst carefully took the vase in her grasp and allowed the flowers to stick their way outside the window. Almost instantly the colorful hues of pink, purple and blue began shriveling and wilting in trade for a dull, wrinkly gray. She pulled the now deceased flowers back inside, almost staring upon the mess with a tinge of sorrow and regret. The two investigators looked the flowers over with mixtures of speculation and disbelief. Ronin traded his sights to the waning crescent in the night sky above, and looked back at their experiment.

“The infection responds when exposed to moonlight…” He stroked his chin, slack-jawed. “This is no means of chemical manipulation. This is unicorn magic we’re dealing with here.”

“Ronin, do you trust my suspicions?” Amethyst began. “Do you really think that Rose Luck did this?”

“You’re my partner, Amethyst. I want to believe everything you say.” The stag furrowed his brow and returned to the window. “But we need to be sure. I think there’s only one chance in finding out if Rose truly is the pony we’ve been looking for.”