Pro Corvo

by RavensDagger

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Main 6, Original Character, Comedy
Length: 9257

A raven visits Ponyville and the mane six. Because of perception things go wrong.

Ravens. The most intelligent creature to take to the air. Creatures that strike fear and give rise to superstition in the hearts of the weary and weak.
One of these creatures, Lord Noble Eyes, is a bird in need. To accomplish his mission, and to save his murder, he must come into contact with six mares.
But how does communication work, when both sides are so different?
Everything is a matter of perception.

Published 2012-12-11 13:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-11 13:30:01 UTC

A Strange Visitor

A Strange Visitor

The ground below moved, but he didn’t care; his work had little to do with speed, or efficiency. He simply had to do what he had to do, then his life, or lack thereof, would move on.

The raven flapped his dark, soul-draining wings once more. The very sound majestic, mysterious, and heard by none but himself.

A spy: that’s what he was, but not what he considered himself to be. Rather, that fateful raven thought of himself as an ambassador. An ambassador sent from the greatest of species to grace the dull land of Equestria with their presence, but only if the land was worthy.

He flapped his wings. Knowing what he was seeking, and where to find them.

Ponyville passed beneath him, the village tiny and unimportant both to his sharp, predatory eyes and his vast, expansive mind. Yet, he knew that within that tiny, unimportant place were six mares, all of them the embodiment of six Elements.

A prismatic and multi-chromatic streak blew past him, the remnants of a circular rainbow dissolving in the air far, far behind him. He half-turned, an impressive gesture for a bird in flight, and blinked at the sphere.

His beak twisted into what some would reluctantly call a grin, though most would see only the smile of a creature that looked down upon their last living moments. The cyan-blue being that blurred past him was his target, the first of the day.

He flapped harder, cringing only in the slightest as a wall of sound and pressure exploded past him, almost deafening in its sheer strength.

An admirable blow, one the raven could respect. The cyan pegasus wheeled around, triumph and glee transforming her visage.

He flapped furiously. His wings beat up and down in a flurry of motion, even causing him to lose some of his precious and brilliant plumage.

As a single feather twirled gently towards the earth below, only moved by the gentlest of breezes, he caught up. “Hello, Mistress Rainbow Dash,” he called, his eloquent caw piercing the skies.

The mare spun to her side, flipping hooves-over-mane in an acrobatic feat, only to blink at the smaller creature. “Oh,” she said in her raspy voice. “Did you talk to me, birdy?” she asked, a plain smile adorning her face.

“Why, yes I did, young Mistress Dash,” the raven replied.

Rainbow blinked, her mouth opening agape for a few beats before shutting with an audible click. “Is this some trick? Is Pinkie Pie around? Or Twilight?” she wondered aloud, begoggled eyes searching to and fro.

“No, no. No trickery whatsoever. Our deviousness and cunning has been put aside for the task at talon. Simply put, I wish to know whether or not you are the Element of Loyalty.”

She beamed with pride, her chest puffing out and her voice climbing a few octaves. “Yep, the one and only Rainbow Dash, fastest mare in Equestria, and Element of Loyalty.” The mare slid in closer, the turbulence of her flight sending waves around him. “I also won the Best Young Flyers Competition last year.”

The raven’s eyebrows rose and he nodded, impressed by her achievements. “That is quite the feat, I’d imagine. I’m not too shabby a flier myself. Now, onto the matter. My name—”

“You’re fast, huh?”

“Yes, quite. Now, as I was saying, my name is Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff; High Comma—”

“Wanna race?” she asked, a childish glee playing across her features as she did yet another pirouette.

One of the minuscule veins along his forehead pulsed. “No, Mistress Dash, I do not wish to ‘race’. Such things are for fledglings and hatchlings, those that have only just sprouted wings, not for nobles like us, those who stand above the common!”

“Oi, are you saying that racing is for egg-heads?” The mare glared at him, prompting a sigh from the bird.

He flapped his dark wings once more, reminding himself that the action brought fear to the hearts of weaker beings. This was not going according the the carefully laid out plans they had developed. They needed the cooperation of the Elements, not their mistrust.

“No, Mistress Dash of the Element of Loyalty. I am simply saying that I have not flown for speed and simple exuberance since my time as a juvenile.”

“Aww, come on!” the mare whined.

He coughed, politely attempting to steer the conversation onto more serious and pressing matters. “Pardon me, Mistress, but we have a matter to discuss. If the great flock is to fly above these lands, we must coordinate with you, the winged creatures of Equestria. Our young, as strong and prideful as they are, cannot sustain flight in a storm, and I would not like to see one of yours accidentally injure one of the murder.”

Rainbow Dash yawned. “Look, birdy, if you don’t wanna have fun, I’ve got better things to do.”

He huffed, breathing out a puff of air. “I cannot believe that you of all.... ponies, would act in such a fashion. Noblesse Oblige. You must care for those below you. It is imperative—” The mare maneuvered her wing tips and glided away midway through his gallant rant, much to the disappointment of the raven.

He flapped his wings

“It matters not,” he told himself aloud. “The intel we have received dictates that the six are close to one another, both physically and emotionally. If I sway one, the others shall follow.” A thought still nagged him: how could the Element of Loyalty be so completely disloyal to him? He was, after all, a creature of the sky, a winged sentient, just as she.

The tip of his wings curved and the raven flew off course towards the outer edge of the town. His eyes scoured the land below, even as he gently glided towards the top of a thatch-roof.

With a remorseful sigh, and the thought of failure strong in his mind, the raven perched on the roof’s edge, talons digging into the thatch. Stretching his dextrous feather tips, he reached into his coat-like fore-feathers and pulled out two objects. The first was a tightly wound scroll held closed with a silver pin; the other was a ruby-studded monocle made of a gilded silver frame wrapping around the glass in the shape of a tiny wing.

Affixing the monocle to his visage, the raven unclasped the scroll, coughed, and examined it closely.

“Hi!” a bouncy and joyful voice said. Turning, the raven looked through his glass and at a puffy-haired mare hopping on the spot, her entire body taking to the air again and again in what seem to be mockery of simple physics. He blinked, then returned to his scroll.

On the piece of parchment was a map of Ponyville, its surroundings, and six little squares, all of them filled with information about six different ponies, including their whereabouts and most likely locations.

“Are you wearing a monocle?” the pink mare asked, this time from a position next to him on the roof.

The raven stared at her blankly, even as he tucked his scroll and looking glass away. “Forgive me, I have no time for trivialities. We’ll play later.” His visage betrayed nothing, despite the nagging question of how the earth pony had arrived on the rooftop, and why a cone-shaped hat was affixed to her cranium. Shaking his head dismissively, he focused on other matters.

The Element of Kindness. He decided the pegasus, supposedly a creature of pure benevolence with a gentle voice and gentler character, would be the next to be visited by him. The raven bent forwards, one wing sweeping low as he bid farewell to the excited pink mare. “Good day to you, madam.”

He flapped his wings and took off.

Behind, the mare hopped to where he was perched moments before as staring up at him, mane drooping and a pitiful frown crossing her face. “But I wanted to play...”

He knew little about his next target, not because his network of scouts and spies had failed him, but because when they returned from that particular mission, they could do little more than babble incoherently and make tiny squeaking sounds. Nonetheless, he did not fear the encounter, for he was made of far more tempered material than his fellow avians.

He flapped his wings, the powerful limbs carrying him high into the air and allowing him a raven’s eye view of the landscape beyond the village. Almost immediately, he caught sight of a tiny cottage hiding amongst the bramble of trees and bushes beyond the town proper.

Leisurely, the raven directed himself towards his target and flew on, the distance quickly shortening as his mind circled around the important role the six mares would play. Each one of them was to provide something critical to the prosperity, nay, to the success of his flock in this strange, yet welcoming, land.

The tiny house approached and his sharp eyes could make out more details, from the roosts and nests of dozens of avians of lesser worth to the landlocked housing of other inferior species. He decided that the Element of Kindness had a penchant for caring for those that weren’t completely sentient or able to provide for themselves: the weak.

He nodded approvingly at the appropriateness and respectfulness of the gesture. With a flurry of wing beats, he slowed to a halt near an open window, the curtain from within the house billowing out beside him like the lifeforce of so many: vibrant, but soon doomed to eternal quiet once the window shut.

Soft humming echoed out within the wooden hovel, the high-pitched notes of a dozen birds’ chirping adding to the natural choir. The source of the appeasing and wondrous sound was fluttering through the room, her gentle yellow body swaying from side to side as she waved a feather duster across her spartan and well-worn furniture.

With a tiny, gentlemanly cough and a rap of his talon on the glass, the raven sought the mare’s attention.

He succeeded, in a rather spectacular fashion.

The duster took flight, snaking across the air like a wingless dragon of evil. Mites of dust and stray strands of fur and hair whispered around it until the entire thing crashed onto a rather pitiful white bunny.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy said, hooves covering her mouth as she watched the bunny climb out from beneath the dusty wreck.

In a single fell swoop, the raven plunged into the house, dived towards the duster, grabbed the soaring household object, and tossed it into a nearby bin, before fluttering to a landing. “Please, forgive me, Mistress Fluttershy, Element of Kindness.” He bowed low, his beak coming within the proper three featherlengths from the ground. “Don’t worry, our nation has the most excellent cleaning services known to aviankind. I’ll be certain to reimburse the mess tenfold.”

The mare blinked at him before coming to a gentle landing. “Um, uh, did you just... speak?”

He bowed once more. “Indeed, Mistress Fluttershy. My name is Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff; High Commander of the Reconnaissance Division, Airborne Corps; Fifth Seat in the Murder's Council; and Duke of Corvus. I come in peace and with the utmost respect,” he said, ignoring the glare the bunny fired at him.

“Oh... I see,” she said, inching away slightly. “Is there something I can do to help you, Mister, uh, Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff...” She blinked at him, dozens of emotions that weren’t comprehension playing across her features.

He jerked erect, beaming a smile her way that sent chills down her spine. “I’m glad you caught onto the matter at... hoof, so quickly, Mistress Fluttershy. You see, a large portion of my flock is looking for a new place to settle, a place to call home until our next migration.”

“So, you’re coming to live here with your family?” The mare leaned forwards once more, a kind smile appearing with ease. “Do you have little baby crows? And a mama crow?” The bunny climbed to her side and poked at her ribs.

The raven coughed. “Yes, something to that effect. Although, to be honest, I am unmarried. I never found a mate that had the proper family titles and qualities for my likings.”

“Well, that’s not very nice... So, how many will be moving over and what do you need? Oh, and where will you be living?”

“Ah, right to the heart of the matter. Perfect!” He reached into his feathers and pulled out the scroll once more, this time omitting the monocle. Unravelling the sheet, he frowned at a section, then huffed contentedly before refolding it.

“The murder consists of fifteen thousand members that have come of age. That’s not including their mates and younglings. The total number should be somewhere near, and around, the twenty thousand mark. As to the when and what: as soon as possible, within reason; and we will need special sustenance, medical care, and certain specialty foods.”

The mare swallowed hard. “Um, what sort of foods?” she asked, cringing even as the bunny’s poking continued.

“Well, for one, we could rid you of such pests as that horrendous creature.” He pointed at the bunny with a wingtip. “The eyes, especially, are a delicacy. I also noted a multitude of injured creatures around your household. We would gladly rid you of those as well.”

“You-you want to eat those poor little creatures?” Fluttershy asked, tears springing to her eyes as she clutched the bunny close to her body with her forehooves. The bunny’s eyes bulged out of his face.

“Why, we are omnivorous; we rather like the taste of various meats. The redder the better.”

The mare hugged the bunny closer even as she inched backwards and towards a room with a wooden bed where the other animals had curiously sequestered themselves in. “I-I... I’m sorry, Mister Eye Noble Lord, but I like saving the poor tiny critters and not eating them and I don't think your family would like it here and there’s not that much that’s nice and I’m so sorry but I have to go thanks for visiting bye.” She entered her bedroom and slammed the door shut, the boom echoing through the living room he stood in.

He huffed and shook his head, indignation emblazoned across his features at the second abject refusal. “I cannot believe it,” he spat. “And she dares to call herself the Element of Kindness!”

He flapped his wings and flew out from the same hole he had entered.

Circling, he climbed high into the sky, his mind in a turmoil.

The Element of Kindness was perhaps the simplest embodiment. Its goal was the easiest to follow: be kind and gentle to all, helpful in all things, and compassionate to every living thing, withholding care and affection from no one.

Was his flock not a thing in need? Did they not deserve the same attention as the common woodland creature, and more?

Was his Murder not also capable of repaying their debts in due time? To eliminate the things that refused joy?

He shook his head violently from side to side. Yes! His kind deserved the attention and more! They were the perfect avial creature, after all. It was not he who was at fault, but the pitiful mare down below!

He flapped his wings, his faith restored as he angled towards the orchards not a minute’s flight away. Three more Elements were to be met that day; the fourth was inconsequential.

Trees, all of them covered in red, gleaming jewels, took up all of his vision as he descended towards the ground, the very tips of his talons brushing against the topmost branches.

The raven took a deep, calming breath; the aroma of freshly-bloomed apples and the bitter sap of the trees around him mixed, creating a purifying and revitalizing scent. His dark eyes remained open, searching for a speck of orange that would signal his next target’s presence.

The rows of trees came to a sudden stop at a roadway before resuming beyond. The road, he quickly confirmed, led up a hill to a few farm buildings and a rustic house. The Elements of Harmony seemed to be humble, he reasoned. All the better to associate with the lowly.

Along the edge of the roadway, an orange mare bent forwards, her stetson-wielding head almost touching the ground as she reared up onto her forelegs. With stunning rapidity and an odd sort of grace, the legs bucked back.

The thundering crack of hoof on tough, ungiving bark rang out as the raven eyed the mare. He suddenly had a new-found apprehension and respect for her as dozens of apples fell and landed in perfectly-placed baskets.

Despite himself, he gulped, wondering if a direct approach was best with such a strong creature as that mare.

There were ways, he had been taught, to approach a situation where the adversary was stronger or, as was often the case, held a single large advantage over a situation. The answer often came to the same: riches and cunning.

He flapped his wings, bending beneath an overhanging branch, before perching himself atop another, this one much closer to the mare.

The scent of her sweat and the chafing of her hooves reached up to him, making him cringe in disgust. A raven of his status shouldn't be forced to endure that sort of stench. Still, he had a mission to accomplish, and it was for that goal that the raven coughed aloud.

Below, Applejack tilted her head up and wiped a forearm across her sweaty brow, tipping her hat back. Her eyes narrowed and fixed onto him when he coughed once more. “Are you sick, there, lil' bird?” she asked with a mixture of amusement and genuine concern. “You might want to head over to Fluttershy's; she ought to care for you till you're better.”

“Oh, trust me, Mistress Applejack, I've been to Mistress Fluttershy's recently. It did not go as I foresaw,” he said, choosing the path of honesty. After all, she was most certainly capable of seeing through lies.

The mare hummed to herself, then sat down, stretching her limbs while she did so. “Well, Ah'll be,” she said. “A talking bird. Didn't think your sort existed... though Ah've seen talking dogs...”

He huffed again; the mere thought of being compared to a canine was tantamount to the highest insult. His was not a race of dimwitted drooling creatures that liked nothing more than licking their own genitals and smelling one another’s posteriors. But he couldn't reproach her. She was just giving him her thoughts with an innocence and honesty that was, if nothing else, respectable.

“No, we are not like those... creatures. Our intellect is nearly unparalleled. Nonetheless, I am not here to discuss matters of the mind. I'm here for business.” He hopped down to a lower branch, the entire length swaying and bouncing as it took his gait.

The mare loosened her hat from upon her head and used it as an impromptu fan. Her mane curled and flowed behind her, the stray locks waving in the tiny breeze. “Hmm, you're here for business, huh?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “What sort of business?”

“Straight to the point! Finally!” he exclaimed, fluttering his wings in glee. “We wish to buy apples.”

One of the mare's eyebrows rose. “You certainly came to the right place, Mister...” She stretched the last syllable, turning it into a question.

“Lor— Call me Noble Eye of Dezeroff. Do you think you'll be able to make trade?”

“You came to the right place, Noble Eye! We've got every sort of apple here: Granny Smiths, Macintosh, even some of the more exotic brands like Golden Delicious and Honeycrisp!” Applejack then waved her hoof in the air dismissively. “But you know, if you just want one or two, ya don't have to pay me anything; just take 'em.”

The raven pulled back, his breath rattling in his chest. The mare actually dared to offer charity to his kind! As if they needed the help from such lowly inbreds. Huffing, the bird of prey reminded himself that she was not fully educated and that this arrangement was of utmost importance. “I thank you for your... generosity, but you don't seem to understand the magnitude of my request. We're a murder large enough to empty each and every apple from both your stockpiles and the branches of each of your trees within months.”

Applejack's jaw worked and she looked at him uncertainly, gauging his movements and mannerisms. “You sure 'bout that?”

“Positive. I want to buy all of your apples.”

“But you don't want to buy the land? Or the trees?” she asked.

“Of course not. We are not suitable to care for either. Just look at the way you bucked that tree. We would never be capable of delivering such a blow so effectively. Instead, we would like to compensate you monetarily for every bushel sold.”

Her eyes narrowed, but it couldn’t hide the joyful twinkle they held within. This was something her family needed. “I’d gladly sell you some apples; as long as we can keep some for ourselves and the town, I don’t see any problem!”

The raven nodded sagely, vaguely wondering whether she was really a business mare. She had not even spoken of money, yet. “We cannot pay you in bits.”

“Ah, Ah knew there was going to be a catch,” she said, giving him her own shrewdest grin. “So, how’re you going to pay?”

Reaching once more into his forefeathers, the raven pulled out a few trinkets: a silver pin, a pearl-studded button, and a piece of silk holding them all. The three objects sparkled as they flew through the air and landed in Applejack’s outstretched hoof. She eyed them for a few moments, allowing the midday light to play across the reflective surfaces.

“You’ll find that their market value in these parts is more than enough for a bushel or two.”

The mare scratched the nape of her neck, forehead wrinkling in thought. “Alright, I guess I’ll have to talk to Rarity ‘bout this... Where’d you get these, anyway?”

“We took them.”

“From where, exactly?”

He blinked and shrugged his wings. “From houses and homes. Occasionally, they were worn by others.”

“Ya mean you stole these?”

“Of course,” he said, his head reeling back incredulously. “Where else do you expect us to grab such wonders?”

Applejack glared at him. “Where else?! You’re supposed to work for what you have, not steal it!” she shouted before tossing the offending objects on the ground.

The raven’s beak opened, then shut as he contemplated his next actions. This mare was obviously mad to pass up such a lucrative deal. His people had spent honest hours thieving for those objects, and now they wanted to trade for food, something to sustain themselves, but the stetson-wearing mare refused them. She was also likely to, in his opinion, announce their method of acquisition to the world, destroying their means of works. The dishonesty!

“Hmph. Obviously, you need a lesson on how real honour works!”

“A-a lesson? You’re a thief! Git outta here, you ungrateful bird. Ah don’t want your kind round these parts.” The mare ran forwards, stomping at the ground menacingly as she advanced on him.

He flapped his wings and, with a squawk, glided, the wind bending and folding at his whim. From high above the mare’s head, he shot a glare that would have frozen the blood of many, but did little to Applejack, who shook her head and walked back home, muttering beneath her breath about crooked, thieving businessbirds.

The raven squeaked once more in anger as he tumbled through the air, pointed his beak towards the town, and shot forwards like an angry black arrow.

As the village approached, the raven thought, his mind assessing his originally simple task: to acquire the aid and support of the five useful Elements of Harmony.

He had failed, he knew, in convincing the first three. But that might be changed if he only managed to reach out to the other two; even one would suffice as an ally of his murder.

A store loomed ahead of him. It was round on all sides and topped with a miniature carousel ridden by faceless mannequins. He knew of this place, for it had been fleshed out by the Purple Squad, a group of spies with unparalleled descriptive ability.

His wings batted violently as he came to a halt a talons-length from the doorway. With his sharp beak, he rapped on the glass, the pane rattling and shivering as the raven twisted around to land. He waited, his minuscule weight shifting from talon to talon.

Moments passed and the raven earned himself multiple looks from the passersby and occasional would-be customer, whom he then quickly scared away with his unblinking and unnerving gaze.

He sniffed haughtily as they backed away, leaving a wide girth around him. He did not care for them. Ponies in general irked him. Their abilities were grand as a race, but on the individual level, each was destined to only rule one skill, one overreaching ability. Why master only one, he reasoned, when he could master them all?

The door creaked and opened, revealing what he imagined to be a beautiful unicorn mare, her extravagant mane and tail neatly arranged and her coat perfectly groomed as it glowed in the sunlight. She blinked and looked from side to side, presumably searching for the one to have knocked.

“Hello, mistress,” he said, immediately snapping her attention to him. Her sparkling blue eyes looked at him for a few moments, before a dazzling smile crossed her lips.

“Why, hello, good sir. How may I help you today?” she asked, bending down to his height.

His breast feathers puffed in pride. This mare obviously knew of his kind and the proper way to address a male of his stature. “You cannot believe the joy it brings me to hear your eloquent voice, madam. Too many of your co-citizens have treated me with disrespect and beguiling on this fine day.”

Rarity stood, placing a hoof on her chest as if to say ‘qui, moi?’ “Please, come in. I shall not let you rot outside like this. That would be most unkind.” The mare moved out of his way, allowing him to easily hop his way into the cooler interior of the shop.

There, the raven was met by walls of silken fabrics, displays, and mannequins covered in every sort of fanciful and formal gowns, along with enough sitting room for a dozen customers. “You have a beautiful work place, Mistress Rarity. I was once told the place where we work and live tells much about us.” He scanned the cleanliness of the place, noting both the immaculate organization and the complete lack of dust or other detritus. “Your mind must be an incredible place—organized and well-kept.”

She tittered a giggle, her cheeks flushing just the right amount to preserve her dignity, yet make herself appealing and womanly. “How may I help you today, mister...”

“Ah, I am called Noble Eyes, although my formal name is Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff; High Commander of the Reconnaissance Division, Airborne Corps; Fifth Seat in the Murder's Council; and Duke of Corvus.”

The mare’s eyes twinkled madly as she looked at him with unabated glee. She shut the door behind her and took a few steps forwards. “So, Lord Noble Eye— Do you mind if I call you that?”

“Of course not, Mistress Rarity.”

“Perfect. Now, what can I do for you?”

“I seek cloth, clothes, and other fine garb,” he said in a squawk.

The mare gave him a comforting smile. “Well, you certainly came to the right place. What exactly do you seek?”

Placing the tip of his wing to his chin, the raven hummed, pondering. “Shiny. My kind loves things that sparkle and play the light.”

“You have fine tastes.”

The edge of his beak twisted up. “Thank you, Mistress Rarity. It’s something about the alluring way in which light flatters the material, the way it sounds as it moves through your feathers and mixes with the jaded hue of our silken plumage. And jewels, ah...” He sighed in contentment at the nostalgia. “Diamonds and rubies and sapphires. We adore the method in which they capture and hold Luna’s light and absorb its radiance.”

Rarity nodded enthusiastically, biting her lower lip as he stilled and quieted. “I see that you’re quite passionate about... shiny things. I share your passion! Now, would you like to see my wares?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“Of course, mistress. Please forgive my outburst.” The raven bowed at her hooves, sending the mare into another tittering giggle.

Her horn glowed and a few bolts of cloth floated to them before she allowed the delicate silks and velvets to unroll partially as she demonstrated the textile wares.

The raven hopped forwards and grabbed the fabric with both wings, rubbing his face against it. “Beautiful! Absolutely stunning!” Pulling away, he dropped the two stands, then raced to another bolt, this time pulling out his monocle and placing it upon his sunken eye to inspect the material. “Awe-inspiring.”

Rarity took a few steps in his directions, her eyes narrowing on the minuscule glass affixed to his face. “What’s that, Lord Noble Eye? The monocle?”

He blinked at her and removed the object. The ruby-studded silver monocle passed from wing to hoof as Rarity gleefully eyed it, twisting it from side to side with a growing smile on her lips. “Our kind are masters in the creation of jewelry, glassworks, and small crafts of the sort. Silver especially, not because of its value, but because silver matches our luscious black feathers.”

Rarity hopped on the spot, her hooves thumping the ground excitedly, a tiny, somehow dignified, squeal escaping her before she clamped a hoof over her mouth. “That’s exquisite, Lord Noble Eye! We have quite a bit in common. It’s not everyday that a mare like myself meets a gentle... bird like you.”

He bowed once more. “You must see our top hats. They’re quite ingenious!” Twisting around, he pulled a flat disk out of his coat, then pressed a little tab. With a poof, the disk popped into the form of a slick-black top hat, one which he then placed upon his head. “See?”

“Brilliant! I believe we might make magnificent business partners!”

“Ah, I don’t intend to do business with you, Mistress Rarity.”

Rarity blinked. “You... don’t?” she asked, disappointment ripe in her voice.

“No, of course not. You are the Element of Generosity, are you not?” The raven petted the bolts.

“Um, yes. I am.”

“Then it will be no problem for you to simply give us your entire stock. My nation needs something to attract it here, and such a vast quantity of free materials would be perfect!”

Her eye twitched. “You want me to give it all away?”

“Yes, and maybe a room, or two, for the crafters amongst us to work on the textiles.”

“B-but you won’t pay me, or give me anything in return?”

He shook his head, his top-hat shifting slightly. “Of course not. You’re the Element of Generosity; why should we have to pay?”

The silence that filled the shop quickly thickened, as did the tension emanating from the mare. Taking a deep, calming breath, Rarity gave him a false smile. “I appreciate the... offer, but I cannot.”

He swore under his breath. “I am tired of you false Elements. Each and every one of you claim to uphold a specific value, but spit on it instead.” Stomping forwards, the raven marched towards the door, then paused, staring up the wooden monolith. “Could you open the door please, mistress?”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” she said as she seductively walked towards him, her hips swaying from side to side with every step and her tail flicking out. Rather than making her look beautiful or alluring however, it made her look like a threat, a menace to the tiny raven. “But first, I want to know why a gentlebird such as yourself is so uncouth and foolish to think that a business mare would be stupid enough to give charity to one who is in a position of wealth!”

The skin beneath his plumage reddened. “You dare to call me... uncouth, and-and foolish? This, madam, is the height of insult! I’ve had enough of you hypocritical ponies and your lying and deceiving ways. I’m done here!” He tossed his hat onto the ground.

It bounced uselessly, then rolled off to the side. “Now, could you please open the door?”

“I have never harmed a living creature in my life, and I don’t intend to start now.” The door glowed, then slammed open, slicing through the air mere inches from his tail and creating a burst of wind that almost toppled him

With a huff, he spun around and took to the air, almost ramming into a gigantic pink form.

“There you are, Mister Birdy!” the pink earth pony said, a wide grin cutting through her features. “I wanted to talk to you!”

“Not now, you,” he said as he flew by.

He flapped his wings, escaping the bouncing mare as she looked up to him with teary eyes.

The raven had only one chance left, the most important of them all: the acquisition of magic. The unfamiliar and alien sense of failure loomed above him and tightened in his gut. This was not going according to plan. None of it was. His mission was a flop, no matter what happened, yet he could not allow himself to give up just yet. His kind depended on him and their entire future weighed on his avian shoulders.

But the gall of that pearl-white mare to actually insult his honour! For a brief moment, the insult and anger outweighed his fears and spurred him on.

The library-turned-tree was not a difficult thing to find. The gigantic and impressive edifice stood out like a sore thumb within the village-scape. Aligning himself, the raven pushed forwards to one of the upper balcony’s open windows.

He flapped his wings and flew in, puffing his chest out and focusing every ounce of his enormous conviction on the task ahead. He could not fail. It wasn't feasible. It wasn't plausible. And most importantly, it would ruin who he was.

Huffing, he slid into the topmost room of the library, his eyes instantaneously adjusting to the darkness within.

A comfortable bed took up one corner of the room, it being the only piece of furniture other than the bookshelves and hundreds, possibly even thousands, of books held in them. The room ended abruptly with a handrail that only opened to a winding staircase.

The raven flew a quick circle in the library, scanning the lower floor for any signs of life, before he fluttered to a landing on the hard wooden rail. There was no one within the library, only books whispering of the knowledge they kept, hiding their secrets within leather binding and browning pages.

“No one. I should have known!” He kicked out with his talon, cutting a deep groove in the soft oak. “The mare isn’t here.”

“Who?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” he answered before blinking and spinning around.

Near the single bed was a tall perch on which sat a grey-brown owl. The creature stared at him with massive eyes set in a circle of tiny feathers, giving the entirety of his little body the impression of having a massive head.

The raven nodded at the fellow avian, acknowledging the presence of a winged friend in the simple gesture. “Hello, owl. I did not expect to see you here. It gladdens my heart to see a fellow sentient of our kind!” He twisted around, hopping along the railing until he cut the distance between himself and the bird.

“Who?”

He paused, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at the owl. “You? Or perhaps you wish to know who I am? I am Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff; High Commander of the Reconnaissance Division, Airborne Corps; Fifth Seat in the Murd—”

“Who?”

The raven stomped on the railing. “Are you... are you making a jest? I find it rather rude of you, my friend. I am in dire straights at this moment. I desperately need the assistance of one Mistress Sparkle—”

“Who?”

“Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic and proprietor of this fine establishment.”

“Wh—”

The raven swiped his wing, the black feathers slicing through the murky air and sending hundreds of dust motes swirling away in a panic. “I swear on the moon, skies, and my reputation as a gentleraven that if you dare to repeat that fowl word, I will personally see to it that you spend the remainder of your life caged in a chicken exhibit.” He huffed and gently placed his wing along his side. “Now, where’s Mistress Sparkle?”

The owl spun his head around, turning it around completely, before stopping and facing the raven. Unfurling his stubby wings, the owl took flight, arching through the air before diving down towards the entrance to pick up a piece of paper from a table set beside the doorway. Sweeping back up, the owl opened his talons and let the sheet cut through the air before the raven swiped it.

Dear loyal customers, interested visitors, and confused passersby,

I had to take a short leave of absence, but I shall return promptly. Please sign out any book you take and fill out aW-9 ‘Book Obtainment Without Librarian Presence’ form that you can find in the catalogue section at the back. It’s filed in the standard Dewey Decimal location registry for ease of use.

Thank you for your consideration,

-Twilight Sparkle, Head Librarian.

The raven deposited the sheet on the banister and sighed. “Thank you, owl. I appreciate the gesture.”

“Who?”

“Oh, I’m tired of this pitiful game.” The raven huffed, and spun around, the fiercest of frowns upon his face. Behind him, a creak and the thump of hooves on wood sounded. Still frowning, the raven spun towards the door.

“I’ll turn you into a meat popsicle,” a wise voice behind him said.

The raven shifted his attention to the motionless owl, then to the lavender unicorn standing in the arc of light spewing from the entrance.Twilight blinked at the chair where the letter had been before shrugging and moving into the room. With a quick burst of her ability, the mare removed her saddlebags and hooked them at a rack with a tiny label.

Casting one last glance at the suspicious owl, the raven glided down to the golden horse-head statue in the centre of the room.

The mare paused mid-step and stared at the black creature whose ferocious talons gripped the horn of the bust as his terrifying presence seemed to shrink the room. “Hello, Mistress Sparkle.”

“Oh, Celestia, did I die?”

He laughed, a gentlebird’s cackle turned nightmarish, squeaking into the mare's mind. “Worry not, Mistress Sparkle; I’m only here for your magic.”

Twilight moved back, lowering the front of her body and skidding back until her rump bumped into the doorway. She yelped, hopping into the air and twisting around.

One of the raven’s eyebrows rose and he tilted his head to one side. “Did I spook you, Mistress Sparkle? Please, forgive me. My intentions were quite benign.”

The mare paused, her gaze trailing up and down his body before she let out a tiny, quizzical hum. “Who are you?”

“Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff; High Commander of the Reconnaissance Division, Airborne Corps; Fifth Seat in the Murder's Council; and Duke of Corvus,” he said. “I come in peace, to develop an exchange.”

“Interesting. A talking avian. Genus Corvus if I’d have to guess... Owlowiscious can only say the one word... I wonder where the voice comes from. The vocal cords... or is it an inherent ability? The height, size, and build look normal enough.... Perhaps in my glossary of rare animals? He also seems to have strong talons.... I’ll have to dust my bust of ponass” She briefly turned her attention away. “Owlowiscious, could you fetch my quill?” she asked as she levitated an inkwell over.

The owl swooped down and released a feathered quill. It weaved through the air before she caught it with her magic. Again, she hummed and began scratching notes maddeningly across the page.

Owlowiscious perched onto the same statue the raven stood on, his wide unblinking eyes staring at the dark bird.

“Mistress Twilight,” the raven continued, ignoring the owl at his side. “I wish to trade in magic, something I believe you’ll agree to.”

Twilight shook her head and focused on him. “Trade... magic?”

“Indeed.”

“What sort of magic, exactly?” she asked, a twinkle of curiosity in her great violet eyes.

“The magic of us ravens; one of the natural abilities we have. In exchange, we would like access to information on your own abilities and the knowledge you have pertaining to powers in general.”

The mare nodded excitedly, not bothering to hide her enthusiasm. “Could you... demonstrate it?”

The raven’s chest puffed out in pride. “Gladly. I was the best student in my class back in my day!” He quickly searched the room, then alighted on the bird at his side. “Ah, would you mind aiding me in my demonstration?” he asked to Owlowiscious.

“Who?”

“Perfect!” the raven said before turning back to Twilight Sparkle. “Pay close attention. This is called the Raven’s Eye.”

He snapped to the owl and peered at him, eyes narrowing as they briefly glowed a deep, foreboding scarlet.

The owl placed a wing over his chest, then tumbled backwards, limply thumping onto the ground. The creature twitched twice, then became still, its beak open as a line of drool spilled out.

“Owlowiscious!” Twilight screeched before teleporting with a bright purple flash to the owl’s side. “What have you done?!”

“Don’t worry; any more and he would have died. I simply incapacitated him.” The raven huffed proudly. “Now, that teleportation ability. Quite interesting. Imagine moving an entire army across a mass of land in a blink. The strategic advantage alone would be overpowering!”

Gently, the mare picked up her beloved pet and tenderly held him to her chest. “You... you.... Why?!” she screamed at the astonished raven before twisting around and galloping towards the entrance.

“W-where are you going, Mistress Sparkle?” the raven asked.

“To Fluttershy’s! Now leave!” With that, Twilight charged out, leaving the front door wide open as she tearfully ran, a puff of dust trailing behind her.

The raven’s shoulders slumped and his wings drooped limply along his side. His bright eyes filled with the barest hint of tears as he swallowed hard. “I-I failed?”

Moments passed, the grandfather clock in the room’s corner ticking faithfully while the breeze outside whistled through the door and into the room.

Dejectedly, the raven took to the air and glided towards the entrance, his mind running over the same sentence again and again.

He flapped his wings, knowing he had failed, knowing he would return home with a message that burnt a hole in his chest: he had been unable to make friends in Equestria. He crossed the threshold of the entrance and into the world beyond. The first thing he saw was a rather peculiar sight.

The pink mare.

The same one who had accosted him multiple times that day was standing beyond the exit. Her face was split with a massive grin as she hefted a long pole, the end of which was topped with a butterfly net. “Found you!”

“Hi!”

The raven groaned.

“Oh, come on, wakie wakie!” a sickeningly-sweet voice said.

The raven opened one eye, and jumped.

There, not a feather’s length from his face, was a green scaly-skinned creature giving him a toothless grin. “Sweet Celestia’s horny head, what is that thing?!”

“Oh, silly, that’s Gummy!” The pink mare swooped down and clutched the alligator, swinging him from side to side.

“I quite simply don’t care. Get it away!” The raven backed away until his back hit a row of metallic bars. Slowly, the raven inspected his surrounding, from the crude metallic cage he was in, to the gaudily decorated and blindingly bright room beyond. “Have... have you captured me? Are you holding me hostage?!”

The mare snorted. “Of course not, silly. I’ll let you out eventually. You have a party to attend!”

“A... party?” he asked, gulping as beads of sweat began pouring down his feathered head.

“Oh yeah. We’ll play pin the tail on the donkey, smash some piñatas, and eat plenty of cakes of all flavours!”

The raven’s mind reeled. This mare was going to torture piñatas and donkeys, and then outright eat this ‘cake’ creature, all in the name of some obscure celebration. He shook his head, and forced his determination to the fore. Stepping to the cage’s edge, the raven narrowed his eyes and glared deeply at the mare. The red glow from his eyes reflected in hers and illuminated the entire room in its soul-drenching hue.

The mare blinked, smiled some more, then gently flopped onto the ground and out of his line of sight with a thump.

He sighed, leaning his shoulder against the cage’s side as he panted furiously.

“Boo!” the mare said as she popped back up, giggling like a madmare when the raven squawked loudly.

The mare kept giggling and snorting to herself. “You’re silly, mister birdie.”

“My name is not ‘mister birdie’,” he protested weakly.

She tilted her head to one side, her permanent smile twisting along with her. “Then, what is it?”

He coughed, trying to settle his nerves. “Lord Noble Eye of Dezeroff; High Commander of the Reconnaissance Division, Airborne Corps; Fifth Seat in the murder's Council; and Duke of Corvus.”

“Lord Strudel Ties of Dizzydoff? Nice to meet you! I’m Pinkie Pie!” She brought her hoof forwards and waited until he reluctantly poked a wing out of the cage and shook it. “Now, I have to set your party up!” She picked up the alligator by the scruff of its neck and tossed it onto the table. The green creature blinked dumbly and sighed.

With that, the mare hopped around the cage without making so much as a shiver or thump. When the exit door shut, the raven let out a deep breath and leaned his head against the cold metal sides.

He had to escape.

Without hesitation, his decades of training kicked in and he ripped one of his tail feathers out, only wincing a little before bringing it around. Poking his head out of the cage, the raven twisted around and shoved the sharp end of the feather into the lock and began prying, testing the mechanism for weaknesses.

It clicked.

Silent as a deadly shadow, the raven pushed the door open, pausing at every creak and at every sound from beyond the room.

“Warhg Blegh,” the alligator said, sending a chill down the raven’s back that made his feathers stand on end.

The raven twisted around, his entire body becoming a blur of wings, feathers, and talons until he came to a full stop. He stood on the tip of one of his talons, the other held at chest height as he moved both wings in tiny circles on either side. “This is the hidden art of Claw Maga. I’m a world-renowned expert, and I will kill you with no hesitation if you so much as take a step forwards.”

“Blogher, bop,” the creature said, blinking unimpressively.

The raven too, blinked, then lowered his guard and wiped his wings on his chest dismissively. “I see.... Good-bye, then.”

He took off and flew to a nearby window, examined the locking mechanism with his gaze for a few moments, then unlatched it.

“Where are you going?” a sweet voice asked, a spine-chilling inflection making its way into it. The door slammed open, revealing the sparsely-lit form of Pinkie Pie. The light glinted off the tip of a turkey baster as a single drop of gravy rolled to the edge and fell. With the tiniest of splats, the drop crashed into the ground.

With sudden fervor, the raven began fumbling with the latches, giving up dignity in favour of speed. The lock rattled, as did the glass, until finally it cracked open.

He cast a glance over his shoulder and into a single blue eye, one that was disturbingly close. Sliding both wings behind him, the gallant avian clutched at the bottom of the window and strained, clicking it upwards millimeter by millimeter.

A tiny breeze flitted through the hole, hugging his back lightly. “You don’t want to play?” the mare asked, water collecting beneath her eyes.

“Never!” he barked. “What kind of gentlebird would... play?”

She blinked at him. “A fun one?” she asked, blinking away her tears.

The raven heaved once more, opening a crack only a little thicker than his body. “I’m sorry, Mistress Pinkie Pie, but I have no time for your trivialities. Fun, is for imbeciles, people that have nothing better to do. The life of the wise is determined by what they have accomplished and how they have done so. Not, by ‘fun’. I’m afraid we’re not compatible, Miss Pie.”

“But, you promised!”

“I did no such thing!”

The mare nodded vigorously, her eyes doubling and doubling again as her head moved in a blur. “Yes you did. Don’t you remember, on Mister Scribewell’s roof? That was seven thousand words ago!”

The mare took a deep breath, her voice coming out deep and hoarse. “You said, ‘Forgive me, I have no time for trivialities. We’ll play later.’ ”

The raven’s wings threatened to pop out of their sockets as his muscles relentlessly fought against the window’s weight. “Did I really say that?”

“Uh-huh. Is it later?”

With a slap, the window crashed down, its glass panes rattling. “So be it. I am a raven of my word. What does this ‘play’ you speak of entail?”

“Well, we can party, dance, sing, play pin the tail on the pony, do cartwheels, talk to friends, tic-tac-toe, charades, tag, build a fully-functioning nuclear reactor, reorganize Twilight’s library, simple-but-unlikely-to-hurt-anypony’s-feelings pranks, invest on wall street, paint graffiti on that weird wall, play with daggers—” The mare huffed for air, then stilled, somehow managing a smile despite the fact that she should have been breathless. “Should I go on?”

“I-I...” The raven, a lord and educated sir of high class and good repute, stood stock still, his mind blindly attempting to wade through the sea of information the mare had fired at him. His blood-red eyes, usually used to cast fear into the souls of the living and the soon-to-be departed, blinked. “What’s the simplest form of this, fun, that we can do? I’m on a schedule...”

“Hmm,” she hummed, taping a hoof on her chin. “We could play hide and seek?”

“I see. And how exactly does one play hide and seek? Is it similar to search and destroy?”

“Ohh!” Her eyes widened and a massive grin crossed her features. “What’s that?”

“It’s what we do when we wish to enjoy our prey. We allow them to think they are free, then we chase and kill them one by one. We lose marks for every missed target, and double that if they escape permanently.” He chuckled, the sound akin to a low growl. “It’s quite amusing.”

The mare bit her lip as her nose wrinkled squeamishly. “Well, that sounds a little mean. I think I prefer normal hide-and-seek.”

He waved a wing dismissively. “Fair enough.”

“Okay, so, somepony counts while the other hides. Then, when you’re done counting, you run around and try to find the hidee. Then, you tag the one that hid to win!”

The raven nodded, then once more reached into his jacket and fumbled with his tip feathers. From within a pocket, he pulled out a gilded silver watch and glanced at it. “I have some time. All I have to report is failure. Shall we begin?”

“Sure! I’ll count to... a hundred! Betcha ya can't hide from me!" she said as she bounced on her hooves, her grin splitting up to her ears in a fashion that should have been anatomically impossible.

Noble Eyes sighed. “Yes, you start the count, and I shall hide.”

"Okie Dokie! But don’t use the door, all right?” she replied, waving a hoof towards the entrance she'd used.

The mare hopped to the corner and over her bed, the tiny bound carrying her far too quickly and too long over the wide bed. With a thump, she landed on the other side and smashed her head into her pillow. “One Hundred. Ninety-nine,” Pinkie began, voice muffled by the tissue.

The raven spun around from his perch on the window’s sill and forced both wings into the cracks. With another heave, the black bird inched the four-pane glass up, the entire frame creaking. The opening was hardly as tall at his hock, but with an expert drop and roll, the raven slipped outside, tucking his wings in just as the window slammed shut. “Well, that was that.”

He flapped his wings, climbing silently into the clouds; the sounds of a high pitched voice counting out at the most ridiculously fast rate he'd ever heard drifted into his keen ears on the night's wind.

The raven had not lied, he reasoned to himself. He had, after all, followed every rule she had dictated. None said the location of his hiding could not be out of town, out of the region, or even in an entirely different nation.

The steady thump of hooves on pavement sounded from beneath him, prompting the raven to look below and at the pink blur keeping pace with him as it weaved through the town.

He flapped his wings harder, pushing himself ahead at a breakneck speed.

“Wait!” Pinkie Pie shouted. “We could play make-up instead, or drink tea. Or I could make you a cupcake!”

He had failed. Not once, not twice, but five times. The young, the old, all those in his family. His murder needed this land; they desperately required something more. They were to have nothing here, and that was because of him. A shiver ran down his spine at the mere thought that he would have to present this failure to all.

But was it his fault, he wondered. These mares, not one of them followed their creed. Loyalty was not loyal. Kindness did not extend kindness. Honesty was dishonest. Generosity cared not for his humble needs. The mare of magic didn’t care for his people’s powers.

No, on that day, as the raven flew away, he knew that Equestria was not the place for him.

He flapped his wings, determination in his eyes as he repeated the same thing over and over again. “Nevermore shall I return. Nevermore shall I return. Nevermore shall I return.”

“Nevermore...”

He flapped his wings

Written to celebrate my first year on Fimfiction and because ravens are cool and to try out a new style, something akin to a childs story.

Edited by:
-Staple Cactus

Pre-Read by:
-Cpl Hooves
-Frederick the Saiyan
-FlutterSyke

Sorren helped too (a lot)

*For the record, it’s an ‘unkindness’ of ravens, not a ‘murder’. The latter sounds cooler.