PrologueView OnlineMask, Cape, and CowlPrologue1 “The Crystalline Egg,” the mare known as Delilah said, pointing one of her tan wings at the large chalkboard behind her and the crude oval image which was drawn upon it. Before her, the students of Chicacolt University were nearly ignorant of the history class which seemed to drone on into eternity. The pegasus professor shook her head in exasperation, and shot a rear leg out to kick at her metal desk, the forceful connection resulting in a loud bang which rang throughout the classroom. “This is not a time to nap!” Delilah said sharply, fighting to hold back a triumphant smirk as her students quickly rediscovered their seats and attempted to sit attentively. “Much better,” Delilah nodded, her tied, monochrome mane flopping to the other side of her neck. She slid her glasses back up toward her ruby-shaded eyes, and took in the entire classroom with her hard gaze. “Now that your minds are all apparently rested, who can tell me the significance of the Crystalline Egg? It’s in relation to what we’ve been studying this past week.” “It’s a rare and priceless jewel for a Griffon Warlord?” one student offered. “No, sorry, try again,” Delilah replied. “It’s a powerful Chimera weapon?” “Hm, nope. Anypony else?” With everyone else shaking their head, Delilah smiled impishly. “It’s alright, class. This is actually a toughie. You see, the Crystalline Egg...” Her voice trailed off as movement within her peripheral vision stole her attention. A figure had sidled itself into the back of her classroom, unnoticed by all save for the teacher herself. She tried not to sweep her eyes that way, lest she spook whomever decided to join her class so late. Whatever their reasons for intruding, she wanted to deal with the stranger on her own terms. “Doy!” she said with a giggle, slapping herself in the forehead as a show for the class and causing them to chuckle lightly. “See? It’s so tough that even I forgot for a second! You see, the Crystalline Egg is an ancient artifact that was crafted a millennia ago by the Griffons and the Chimera. It’s the only piece of evidence in existence to suggest that these two races had ever even contemplated peace. The legend states that its creators imbued it with an arcane magic which would grant its wielder extended life, to signify everlasting peace between the Griffons and the Chimera. As we all know, that never happened and they’ve been in a terrible blood-feud for as long as history can remember. The Crystalline Egg’s whereabouts are currently unknown, with rumors of its residence circulating everywhere, especially now that the Crystal Empire has been rediscovered. Of course, the two are completely unrelated, but some ponies will say anything to make a quick bit.” At her last word, the class bell rang, signifying its end. She treated them all to a smile, watching as they filed out of her classroom and into the next. All except one, she noted, patiently waiting for the newcomer to walk down an aisle of the room and confront her. At the best, it was another very rich pony wanting her to secure yet another item of extreme importance from some derelict ruin in the middle of nowhere. Not that she really minded, of course. If the adventures she frequently embarked on weren’t particularly interesting, there was always the sack of bits at the end of her journey. She liked that part almost as much as the pure history of whatever item she was sent to fetch. Almost. “Miss Delilah, or would you prefer I call you ‘Daring Do’?” The palomino stallion reached the end of the row, snapping the mare out of her thoughts. Her eyebrow rose suspiciously as the stranger’s horn glowed with golden magic, but he only seemed to be hovering a kerchief close to his mouth before letting loose with a series of raspy coughs. “Could I offer you a glass of water, sire?” she asked, putting on her professional front. It was an old song-and-dance she did with these collectors to make sure they were genuine. Too many times had she nearly been killed while retrieving some artifact, only to receive the short end of the stick when she finally brought it back. More than a few times she had even kept it for herself, marking the beginning of her own little collection. Though they often did help with the class - teaching a course on ancient tribes was much more simple and entertaining when you had a physical piece of their history. “It’s not necessary,” he said, returning the kerchief to its place in his pocket. He stood a good foot above her, and so looked downward with a grin she didn’t quite trust. “I’ve come to request your services. My name is Gilded Leaf. I represent the Manehattan Historical Museum, and one of our most priceless artifacts has just been pilfered by a thief.” He levitated a card toward her with his magic, which she grasped and read. “And what exactly would I be looking for, should I choose to accept your employment, mister Leaf?” she asked carefully, her eyes scanning over the card. It seemed legitimate enough, though a there was still a small tingle far in the back of her mind about this unicorn. Then again, that feeling was nothing new to her. “Please, dispense with the formalities and simply call me ‘Gil’. Most of my acquaintances do.” The stallion offered Delilah a friendly smile to accompany this statement. “As for what you’ll be seeking out, it’s very thing you were discussing only a moment ago,” he said casually, watching her eyes alight with wonder. “The Crystalline Egg.” “Wha-” Her breath left her in a sharp rush as his last words sank in. A priceless historical artifact not seen for possibly a thousand years or more, and he was asking for her help to take it back from some common thief? She shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Now wasn’t the time to be greedy. “Alright...” she said slowly, “alright. I know the what, but now I need to know about the who. About this thief you mentioned.” “Ah yes, the who. Your target will be quite easy to spot, actually. She runs around mostly at night, clad in a violet suit with a long cape and ridiculous hat. She’s known throughout the city as ‘Mare Do Well’.” His face took on a hurtful expression as he continued. “We all hoped she really was a hero, but she seemed to only play the part so our defenses would lower and she could steal at will. It really is a shame...” Delilah chewed on her tongue for a moment, although the contemplation was only a formality at this point. In truth, he’d had her sold at the mention of the Egg. “Alright,” she said finally. “I’m on board. You’ve got yourself Daring Do, and the Crystalline Egg will be returned to the museum in no time. You have my word.” “I cannot thank you enough,” he replied, turning around and walking away, letting out another series of sickly wheezes as he did so. Delilah quickly grabbed her familiar travelling gear, left the usual parting note on her desk for the other teachers to find, and followed the stallion out, getting onto the train with him from Chicacolt to her newest scavenge in the concrete jungle of Manehattan. 2 While a certain locomotive transported a certain pegasus to a new adventure, the Mare Do Well perched atop her favorite roost and kept a vigil on her beloved city of Manehatten. Beneath the dark blue mask with those silver expressionless eyes, the real eyes of the night-mare sat shut as she meditated. Her ears twitched at random sounds, but they were nothing more than the simple ambience of a city which claimed to never sleep, even at the apogee of Luna’s chilly night. Manehatten is quiet tonight, the Mare Do Well observed. She let her mind slip back just another notch toward true rest; it was a luxury she was rarely afforded, and any opportunity she was given to refresh herself was welcome. For now, her ears would snap her awake at any disturbance. But while her mind was at peace, her body fidgeted in annoyance, unused to the saddlebag that she had strapped mercilessly tight around her waist. The lone pouch held significant weight, and fought to throw off her usually-keen balance. She had fought back, teaching her body to compensate and throw more weight to the opposite side. Though it finally learned how to balance itself again, her frame had decided to be pesky still by squirming in protest of the alien device which had been forcefully strapped to it. To top it all off, she began to shiver from the cool stillness of the night. Stop it! the Mare Do Well commanded of herself, though it was futile. Some things were natural reactions, no matter how much she tried to control herself. The fidgeting would stop in time as her body adjusted to the leathery torture device, but the shivering... by the princess Luna what she wouldn’t give to see some action just to get her blood flowing again. As if to answer her silent prayers, a shouting curse came from down the street. Her eyes shot open immediately. Her ears pinpointed the source somewhere to the left. Quickly, she turned back onto the building’s roof, galloping along the string of obscenities being thrown wildly into the night. She leapt from the building’s edge without a second thought, her rear legs propelling her through the night. She landed smoothly onto the adjacent structure with a soft thud, the foam-padded interior of her costume’s boots absorbing most of the impact. At the edge of this building, she saw the criminal bolting down a cobblestone street, pursued closely by a stallion mingling shouts of “Thief!” with even more obscenities. The apparent burglar lashed out with a rear leg, tripping his pursuer and rounding a corner. Before the offended stallion could regain his hooves, his thieving target ducked into a small alleyway, leaving the stallion alone. Deciding it was no longer worth the effort, he simply retreated back to his business, cutting his losses and hoping to make them up the next day. From her vantage point, the Mare Do Well easily tracked the criminal, waiting until he felt safe enough to relax before confronting him. When she was satisfied that he’d not expect her arrival, she leapt down to a lower wall, and finally onto the ground itself. He turned around after hearing the low thud, his eyes widening as he processed the sight before him. “Muh... muh...” he stammered, visibly trembling now. He started to back away, but his rear legs tangled up with one another and he fell swiftly onto his rump. The costumed figure before him raised a foreleg, clearly pointing at him. “Huh...?” His mind went blank from fear. It had been silly to think he could get away with it. This time she jabbed her raised foreleg toward him, and he finally understood. “Oh! What I took...” He reached carefully into his own saddlebags, hoping he didn’t look menacing doing so. If she decided he was a threat... He pulled out his spoils from the earlier theft: a couple loaves of bread. “They’re... uh... they’re for my family,” he explained meekly, his ears sagging in shame as his head dropped down. “I can’t even afford to feed them...” The Mare Do Well stood for a moment, considering the words of the stallion. Finally, she raised her foreleg again and flicked her fetlock, as if shooing him away. “Re... really?” Hope and relief filled his voice, a combination that was reinforced as the creature before him nodded her head in confirmation. The thief quickly stuffed his goods back into his bag, and took one last glance toward the Mare Do Well as he galloped away. The Mare Do Well sat on her haunches, a grin adorning the sweaty face which lay underneath the dark blue mask. Necessary evils, she thought. The thief had needed that bread far more desperately than the shopkeeper. I guess we are not so different, hrm? This thought led her back to her own bag and the heavy content within, inevitably causing the incessant fidgeting to resume. She rolled her head in annoyance, but there was nothing she could do about it for now. At least the shivering had stopped. The sound of shattering glass awoke her from her thoughts. She turned her head toward the source of the disturbance. No rest for the wicked, she thought with a touch of humor, and once more galloped into the night.
Chapter OneView OnlineMask, Cape, and CowlChapter One1 “Welcome to Manehatten,” Gilded Leaf said, stepping off of the train and onto the platform with Delilah in tow. Around them, ponies of all sorts moved in organized chaos; one half of a car would accept its passengers while the other half ejected them just as quickly. A random stranger brushed against Delilah’s tail without so much as excusing himself as he cut through the flood of bodies that were getting off, hoping he’d make it before the door of the train car slammed shut. Delilah’s head began to spin - not since being in Saddle-Arabia had she seen such a mass of confusion. Back in Chicacolt, at least, things were more straightforward and almost everyone was polite. She was beginning to wonder if this had been such a good idea, after all. In the ancient ruins, at least, she was almost always by herself. “This way, if you please,” Gilded Leaf beckoned over the hurried crowd, a slight hint of impatience lacing his tone. “There is much work to be done, and I am sure you would prefer to get a feel for your surroundings, yes?” “Yes, sir.” Delilah internally scowled at being talked down to in such a manner, but had little choice in this case - Manehatten was ‘Gil’s’ territory. Until she had the chance to scope it out and learn what to expect, she would just have to listen to him for the time being. The flood of ponies was no thinner as they reached the end of the platform. Delilah gaped out into the massive city beyond; it occurred to her in that moment that, despite all of her years of travelling, she had not set foot in Manehatten. She had, in fact, avoided most of the major cities, save for her home of Chicacolt. Her moment of awe was cut short as Gilded Leaf succombed to another uncontrollable fit of coughs. Delilah noted that very few heads in the surging crowd even bothered with a glance in the stallion’s direction. “Sir, I insist that you-” He cut Delilah off with a wave of his hoof, shaking his head in denial. Finally his coughing spurt ended, leaving him leaning against the ticket booth and drawing long, exhausted breaths. Delilah frowned in concern - he’d had similar episodes on the train from Chicacolt, most ending in a painful-sounding dry heaving. “It’s of no concern to you,” Gilded Leaf said in between breaths. He brought himself to stand straight again, and once more moved with the flow of bodies as though the last few seconds were merely a minor setback. “Just do as I bade you, and don’t worry about anything else.” It concerns me if I don’t get paid, she thought coldly. Being a teacher paid enough, sure, but the University didn’t cut her a check when she went on these (all too frequent) excursions. Being in Manehatten, she’d lose at most a couple weeks’ pay if it turned out to be a bust. “Come,” he ushered, “we will get you set up with quarters, and then you can proceed with your natural course of action... as long as it doesn’t take too long.” 2 “This place is incredible!” Delilah said. After an hour’s trek, the pair had entered the upper echelons of Manehatten. Astoundment was etched upon her tan face; her own place in Chicacolt was far from modest, but it was outshone by even the smallest of residencies in this massive lot. “It is a quaint neighborhood,” Gilded Leaf agreed, leading Delilah toward one of the many three-story structures. The particular stretch of cobblestone road they were walking down wrapped in an arc, like an overgrown cul-de-sac. Every blade of grass seemed cut uniformly short in their respective miniscule lawns, as if any sort of difference would be a crime. It was not the lifeless stagnation that she would have taken for such a hoity-toity place, however. Foals of all sorts were playing on the streets, happily giggling from a random game of tag here or a competitive round of kickball there. The adults were just as active as their children - groups of presumably friends stood around gossiping to one another. A young golden mare merrily trotted toward the duo sporting a leather saddlebag strapped across her back. A silken curtain of white rolled down the side of her neck, swaying softly as she bounded with each footfall. “Good morning, daddy,” she said, wrapping her forelegs around Gilded Leaf’s neck in a brief hug. “Good morning, pumpkin,” the stallion replied, smiling down at his daughter. “School and then martial arts, as per the usual?” “Mhm,” she nodded, casting a wary green eye toward the stranger standing next to her father. Gilded Leaf caught the glance, and waved a hoof in the direction of his companion. “Dear, this is Delilah. Delilah, this is my gorgeous daughter, Aureate Leaf.” “A pleasure,” Delilah said, extending a hoof towards the filly. Aureate met it with her own, giving Delilah a firm, respectable shake. “Likewise, ma’am.” “Delilah is here to help me with a business venture,” Gilded Leaf explained. To Delilah’s wonder, he seemed to have suppressed his coughing fits for the time being. “She will be staying with us for... mm...” “A week, at the most,” Delilah interjected, having calculated it in her head on their walk there. It couldn't be that difficult to locate the Mare Do Well, after all. She had found derelict ruins long forgotten, ancient treasures that no creature had seen for centuries, all on her own. One mare who dressed up and played hero every night in a city as normal as Manehatten would stick out like a sore hoof. "I hope you enjoy your stay here then, miss Delilah," Aureate said politely. "My apologies, but I must be on my way. Master Storm will be wondering where I am." "Of course, dear," Gilded Leaf said, planting a kiss on his daughter's forehead below her horn. "Just try not to break that coltfriend of yours." He gave her a sly wink. "Daaad." Aureate's golden cheeks flushed with a rosy tint. "What?" His face was innocent, but his smile was a cheeky, teasing thing. "I still wish to meet this young stud you ever-so-brag about." Aureate's entire face was nearly pink now. "I-I really need to go, daddy." And she was off, nearly trotting away from the embarrassing scene. Gilded Leaf turned his head toward Delilah as they resumed their own walk, casting upon her a bright smile that starkly contrasted his earlier irritable mood. "She's my pride and joy," he said. "Mark my words, Miss Delilah. Aureate will go far in life." Before Delilah could comment, they came to a stop before a tall oak door inset with crystallized glass, creating a jagged puzzle that was more aesthetic than functional. The handles of the door were made of copper that was polished to a reflective shine. Gilded Leaf grasped the handle with his magic, bowing slightly as the door swung open. "Ladies first." Delilah gingerly walked through the doorway. Her immediate reaction was to inhale in a long, slow gasp. Her ruby eyes were stretched to their limits with her foal-like amazement for the building she had just entered. The front entrance opened itself into a modestly sized foyer replete with doorways, essentially serving as the hub for the mansion’s multitude of rooms. Centered in this room was a simple oak staircase which spiraled up to the second floor. A mirror image of the pegasus followed her every step as her entire being was reflected in the tiled floor. “You will be quartered in the guest room upstairs,” Gilded Leaf said as he shut the door behind them. Delilah could hear the stallion struggling to suppress another coughing fit. “It’s down the hallway, on the left side.” “Thank you, sir,” Delilah said. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like a shower before I go out to get a feel for Manehatten.” “Very well,” Gilded Leaf replied, trotting toward one of the first-floor doorways. “The upper floor restroom is across the hall from your room, conveniently.” He stopped in mid gait, twisting his head around to eyeball his guest one last time. “Oh, and I do apologize for my rude behaviour this morning. It’s been a very trying week; I don’t usually treat employees with such disrespect.” “It’s fine, sir,” Delilah assured him, already halfway up the staircase. A devilish grin appeared on her face. “Trust me, you haven’t seen rudeness until you’ve been insulted in Griffonese.” “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. Alas, I hope Manehatten treats you well for your first day here.” “Yeah...” Delilah sighed softly at the stallion’s back, trotting the rest of the way up the stairs to officially begin her day. “Me too.” 3 Delilah strolled down the cobblestone streets of Manehatten, gaping amazedly at the structures that towered far above her and kept the mid-afternoon sun at bay. In theory, this little excursion through the city was supposed to familiarize herself with her surroundings, but that idea had been forgotten momentarily as she simply sight-saw like an excited little filly. The street buzzed with activity. In her trek, Delilah had nearly collided with a market stand, eliciting a snarl from the merchant. “Watch where ya walkin’!” He shot her a glance that could’ve frozen the Southern Deserts. “I’m sorry, sir,” she replied, quickly turning and trotting away, but not before her ears picked up something that sounded suspiciously like “friggin’ tourists”. Once the mare had regained her bearings and was more aware of where she was, Delilah took notice of the many articles of clothing, jewelry, and other curios she felt unfamiliar with. "This must be a bazaar..." she said to herself, trotting by at a moderate speed. She passed several shops with strange ponies selling even stranger wares, some of which she was sure was not of natural make or origin. She noticed a turn in the alley, following it and finding herself amidst an even longer pathway lined with shops and stands. The low, unintelligible drone of a hundred different conversations and transactions permeated through her skull, bringing about a slight dizzy spell. It was a feeling that always befell her when she was surrounded by a large group of ponies. Delilah spread her tan wings out, about to take to the skies for a better vantage point when a shrill whistle was blown in her direction. She snapped her wings against her body in an instant, looking around to find the source of the sound. It didn’t take long to find where the whistle had emanated from - a bulky pegasus in the blue uniform of a constable was trotting her way. Delilah exhaled an exasperated sigh, groaning at her own stupidity. Not even a couple of hours in this city and I’m drawing attention. She smiled upwards as the officer finally reached her. “G’day lass,” he greeted Delilah with a heavy Scoltish accent. “A’ hope ye know why A’ had t’ blow the whistle on yer.” “Nay- I mean no.” Delilah winced at her own faux pas - she’d spent some time up in Scoltland, on yet another fruitless scavenge. The side effect of staying at any given place, especially foreign, for too long was developing the area’s dialect, which would subconsciously resurface if she ever held a conversation with anypony from the region in question. The stallion merely chuckled it off - the Scolts were nothing if not good natured. “Anyro’, A’ stopped ye because it’s illegal to free-fly in this fine city. Only us constables ‘n them Weather Teams can be in th’ sky at any given time.” “Oh...” Delilah blinked at that, looking up to scan the sky. Sure enough, it was quite empty. She mentally berated herself for not having seen it sooner. “I’m sorry.” "Now, now, there's no need t' apologize. A' can see ye're new in this city, therefore ye didn't know the rules," the stallion said. "Jes make sure ye don't do it again, fair?" He favored Delilah with a small smile. "Speakin' of not bein' from Manehattan, where would a lovely lass like yerself be from?" “Chicacolt, sir.” "Oho, Chicacolt, eh? A fine city, yes indeed. I'm not surprised tha' they still have the free-fly rule, seein' as the crime rates're far lower than they are here," he said. "Though if A' do say so meself, the Mare Do Well does try 'er best t' keep this place up and runnin'," he said. Delilah’s ears perked up at the utterance of her target. “Can you tell me anything about the Mare Do Well? It’s very important.” The officer cocked an eyebrow at that. “An’ why is it so important, if A’ may ask?” Delilah pawed at the cobblestone with a hoof, trying desperately to come up with an excuse. “Because... uh...” She let out a small sigh, and decided that for once, honesty really was the best policy. “Because I was hired to track her down.” “Eheheheh...” The officer’s chuckle was either genuine amusement, or all-too-knowing. Delilah couldn’t tell which. “You, me, and all of the E.Q.P.D, lass. She is a crook, after all.” It was Delilah’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “You mean that the entire city of Manehatten can’t find one single fugitive?” That chuckle again. “Oh nay, lass. We can find her, aye. It’s just that when we do find her, we kinda turn a blind eye.” Delilah’s mind boggled at the admission. “You what!? Isn’t she a felon?” “Aye, well, eheheh...” He reached up to scratch the back of his head. “The lass does our job fer us, a lot better ‘n we ever could.” His face grew suddenly serious as he stared down back at Delilah. “An’ just between you ‘n me, she’s a good filly. If she took somethin’, there’s a reason she took it. Now’n, if you’ll excuse me lass, A’ see a little group of colts who think they’re gonna nick a few apples. ‘Ey! Stop, ye little heathens!” At that, the stallion galloped off, leaving behind a quite dumbstruck tan mare. Gathering her wits, Delilah trudged along the busy street once again, staring down at her hooves as she walked and trying to comprehend the conversation she’d had just now. The police are just ignoring this ‘Mare Do Well’. It was a disheartening thought; Chicacolt’s finest would have never let a crime go unpunished. They’d arrest Princess Celestia herself, if they had to. They’re just being lazy. But that was an unfair idea. Any officer in any town worked diligently to keep its citizens safe. What, then? she asked herself. Are they... scared? But that stallion didn’t seem very scared of the Mare Do Well. In fact, he almost seemed to admire her. Delilah’s slow, contemplative gait down the street was suddenly interrupted when she pratfalled to the ground. “Oof!” At first, she didn’t realize she had collided with another pony until they had both sprawled to the ground. Delilah was the first back on her feet. She stretched a limb out to the stranger she had walked into, whom had toppled over from her lopsided saddlebag. The snow-white mare took the outstretched foreleg gladly, hoisting herself back up on four legs once again. Her legs... It’s like they’re made of wrought-iron... Delilah’s brain could barely process this idea, considering the mare she had helped back up could only be described as ‘petite’. “I’m sorry, Miss. I just wasn’t paying attention.” The mare smiled sweetly up at Delilah and shrugged her shoulders with nonchalance. She then tilted her head quizzically, her cropped, cobalt-blue mane falling to the side. Delilah noticed a random streak of steel cutting a swath through the mane. The mare sat down on her haunches, first pointing a hoof at Delilah and then sweeping her foreleg in the air, as if to encompass the whole city. All the while, her icy-blue eyes sparkled with unspoken questions. “Uhh...” Delilah’s ears drooped as she tried to figure out this little charade. “I’m sorry...?” The stranger held a hoof up, as if to preemptively stop Delilah should she decide to move. She then proceeded to rummage through her saddlebag with practiced precision, instantly pulling out a notebook with only a few remaining sheets of paper left, and a brand new, perfectly sharpened pencil. Pencil in mouth, the mare quickly scribbled a note onto the paper and twisted the notebook around for Delilah to read. “Are you new to Manehatten?” the note asked. “Oh, yes. Yes I am. Excuse me for being rude, but I take it you are...?” As if reading Delilah’s mind, the mare nodded and tapped her throat, confirming Delilah’s suspicions. The mare sitting before her was completely mute. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Delilah winced at her own choice of words, but the mare only seemed to feign a silent giggle before writing on her notebook again. “It is okay,” Delilah read after the note had been finished, “I am used to it. My name is Snow Storm, by the way.” “Delilah,” she said, extending her hoof out to give the mute mare a proper hoofshake. “You must be the ‘Master Storm’ that Aureate Leaf mentioned earlier.” The mare slightly cocked her eyebrow at that, hiding beneath her eyes a hint of suspicion. Quickly, she wrote onto her convenient notepad. “I must go. It was nice to meet you, Delilah.” “You, too,” Delilah replied as the mute mare stood up and gaily trotted away. She looked up toward the cloudless sky, where the sun had crested hours ago and was on its slow descent to make way for a crescent moon. Delilah had seen only a fraction of what this city had to offer, but she saw it for what it really was: just a simple, huge grid. There was no significant difference in the cityscape that would warrant her searching through the entire sea of buildings. And when the time to hunt the Mare Do Well finally came, she could always take to the rooftops by wing. Delilah shook her head again. She’d deal with that when, or if, the time came. For now, the sun was still in the sky, which meant there was still a bit of time left. From what Gilded Leaf had told her, the Mare Do Well showed herself only at night. Which meant that it was the perfect opportunity for Delilah to catch up on some well-deserved rest. 4 After a refreshing nap and a delectable meal with the Leaf family, Delilah strolled out of the house and into a downtown Manehatten shrouded by the cover night and awash with the dull orange glow of street lamps. The streets were noticeably quieter at this time, though not completely empty. Quite the contrary, much to Delilah’s surprise. Once again she found herself comparing this city to her home of Chicacolt; although back home, the streets were usually rolled up by sunset and the night belonged only to the police and occasional weather teams if a storm was scheduled. Such wasn’t the case in Manehatten. The streets were still significantly lively with buildings that were lit like the trees of a Hearth’s Warming Eve, though the smaller outside market vendors had closed up shop for the night. She could make out the muted sounds of various clubs playing all around the downtown area, with ponies in their adolescent years swarming into their particular favorite hotspot. Behind her, a small scuffle had broken out between two youthful stallions, probably over a mare they both fancied. For a moment, Delilah had to pay respect to the Mare Do Well - anyone who could make sense out of this chaotic mess and weed out the worst of it was truly a gifted pony. Speaking of which... Delilah trotted down the street, keeping an eye out for any sign of her prey. It would be just her luck that the city’s hero take the night off for a change. She stopped for a moment, breathing out a sigh. She’d like to believe that this was a stupid idea, but the truth was she didn’t even have an idea in the first place. She had thought this was going to be easy, like picking a thoroughbred from a pack of shetlands. As she sat back on her haunches, her eyes drifted lazily upwards and towards a peculiar statue perched on the corner of a six-story building. Delilah snorted at the idea, but she’d seen weirder architecture before. Her favorite crazy mashup was still the “Draconequus” statue in the Canterlot Gardens. The imagination it took a sculptor to create such a piece must have been vast. Delilah’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, for the statue had just turned its head downward to stare back at her. They seemed to lock eyes for a second; Delilah’s jaw gaped further and further down. She vigorously shook her head, and upon reopening her eyes the statue was back to its normal position. A shudder ran down the pegasus’ spine that was closely followed by a click in her brain. She squinted harder up toward the figure, trying to make out any defining shapes. It was a difficult task, as she could make out only a silhouette. She finally spotted it: a deformity extending outwards on the left side of the otherwise perfect figure. Judging by the size and position, it looked like... "A saddlebag." Delilah's heart skipped a beat for the second time. The familiar blanket of nervous excitement covered her body - a feeling that always overcame her when she had finally found what she was searching for. And she had. That was no statue perched on the building's edge, she realized. It could only be the Mare Do Well. In a flash, Delilah galloped down an alleyway next to the building and took to the sky, flying up to the roof and hoping none of the night watch would spot her. A grin splayed across her tan face as she flew higher and higher. The mythical Crystalline Egg would be hers by sunrise.
Chapter TwoView OnlineMask, Cape, and CowlChapter Two1 Snow Storm’s eyelids fluttered open, disturbed by the gentle rays of the sun penetrating through thin curtains hanging in front of a nearby window. She sat up slowly, stretching her forelimbs with a silent yawn, delicately rubbing her eyes to cleanse the gook from them. The earth pony rolled herself unceremoniously off of the mattress, making sure to tidy up the bed before sleepily trotting off into her apartment’s bathroom to commence her morning rituals. After treating her teeth to a quick brushing, Snow Storm moved into her shower, revelling in the dissipation of tension from her muscles thanks to the warm water trickling down her smaller body and dampening her coat into an off-white color. Her spirits lifted with the steam of the warm water, and soon enough a bright grin had cemented itself on her face. She might have even sung a song, had she a voice to sing with. Unfortunately, a cruel twist of fate and the loss of her dear brother had stricken her mute years ago. And what a day it was going to be - her class had a difficult test today, and she had to be prepared to face it. She smiled into the mirror as she fixed her mane into more manageable strands. Afterward, with her saddlebag packed, Snow Storm trotted out of her apartment and eventually outside, heading toward her first stop of the day. 2 The bell sitting on the fruit stand rang out as a hoof gently touched it, notifying its owner that a customer had arrived. The not-quite-yellow stallion behind the stand snapped his eyes open. A lock of his lime-green mane fluttered down to in front of his eyes, which he quickly raked back with annoyance. A bright smile gradually lit Mosely Orange’s face as he completely brought his head up from his nap, carefully considering the pony standing before him. “Good morning there, Lady Snow. I bet I know what you’re here for.” His grin turned cheeky as he brought up a nondescript paper bag. “A nice, plump, juicy orange. Right?” Her smile never left her face as she shook her head in denial, giving the stallion an eyeroll for good measure. It was a game these two have had ever since she was knee-high to her brother - Mr. Orange had for the life of him tried to get her to eat one of his famous, and presumably delicious, oranges. But she had a singular taste for one thing from his fruit stand, and one thing only. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, her brother had told her countless times. She had clung to every word he uttered as she grew up with him, and that one simple rhyme had stuck to her mind. Besides, nothing beat a good, juicy apple for breakfast. “Ah, I will have you in my orangey clutches one of these days, Snowy,” Mosely Orange declared as he removed the fruit from the bag, revealing it to be an apple all along. “You are fortunate my niece likes to send so many. You just may starve without these.” He gave her a small wink, accept the three bits she had procured. In return, she brought her hoof up to her mouth, gesturing her laughter for him. “You best run along now, young lady,” he admonished playfully after finishing his own round of chortling. “I’m quite aware your class does not appreciate tardiness.” As she nodded and turned away to trot for the door, Mosely Orange ever-so-slyly dropped another apple into her saddlebag, satisfied the young mare had not noticed his action. Snow Storm, however, grinned as she munched on her first apple, instantly feeling the slight shift in weight as another, this time free, apple had dropped into her right saddlebag. She would have turned around and given the older stallion a hug of gratitude, but he had been right. Her class awaited. 3 Snow Storm’s heels clicked against the cobblestone street as she gaily trotted. All around her, ponies greeted her with a cheery ‘good morning’ or a bright smile - it was what she considered the ‘good part’ of Manehatten, the part where a colt always guided an elderly dam across the street; the part where that didn’t matter because the carriages would always stop and wait for any pedestrians to cross anyway; the part where, in short, everypony treated each other with dignity and kindness, and no one locked their doors at night. Snow Storm only wished she could’ve responded with more than just a smile or a wave. She could recall a time, vaguely, when she did have a voice. But times had changed, and her voice had disappeared one terrible night. She had given an honest effort to speaking again after she had lost her big brother, but no matter how hard she tried, no sound would come out. After a while, she found she stopped minding altogether - everypony became accustomed to her own body language, and she always kept a notepad and pencil in her saddlebags just in case. One of the many life skills Frost Storm had imparted unto her was the ability to write. He had taught her a lot of things; he had even been her primary caregiver and tutor. They were always too poor for proper schooling, so Frost Storm had taken it upon himself to teach her everything he possibly could. That trail of thought slowly led to her parents, a trail that never failed to ignite a small spark of anger. They had abandoned her and Frost Storm when she was barely a month old, forcing the young colt to care for her by himself. She knew because Frosty had told her when she was old enough to comprehend it. At that time, she didn’t care. She only knew that Frosty was there and they weren’t, and that had been enough for her. But the years went on, and she began to think on it more and more - especially after losing him. She would ask herself why somepony would do that, or how could they in the first place. A deep part of her even blamed them for Frosty’s death - if they had just been there, he wouldn’t be gone. Snow Storm’s trot down the street was suddenly interrupted when it felt like she had run into a brick wall. At first, she didn’t realize she had collided with another pony until they had both sprawled to the ground. Snow Storm heard a disgruntled “Oof!” even as she toppled over on the side of her weighted saddlebag. She grasped the outstretched tan forelimb that was offered to her, allowing herself to be pulled up back onto her feet. “I’m sorry, Miss. I just wasn’t paying attention,” the strange pegasus said, a worried frown creasing her face. Snow Storm smiled sweetly up at the mare -- for the pegasus stood no less than half-a-foot taller -- and shrugged her shoulders with nonchalance. Snow Storm tilted her head quizzically and sat down on her haunches, first pointing a hoof at the pegasus and then sweeping her foreleg in the air, as if to encompass the whole city. All the while, her eyes sparkled with unspoken questions. “Uhh...” Snow Storm saw the stranger’s ears flop in ashamed misunderstanding. “I’m sorry...?” Snow Storm held a hoof up, telling the stranger to simply wait a moment. Then she proceeded to rummage through her saddlebag with practiced precision, instantly pulling out a notebook with only a few remaining sheets of paper left, and a brand new, perfectly sharpened pencil. Pencil in mouth, Snow Storm quickly scribbled a note onto the paper and twisted the notebook around for the mare to read. “Are you new to Manehatten?” the note asked. “Oh, yes. Yes I am. Excuse me for being rude, but I take it you are...?” As if reading the stranger’s mind, Snow Storm nodded and tapped her own throat, confirming that she was indeed completely mute. “I’m sorry to hear that.” The pegasus winced at her own choice of words, but Snow Storm merely gave her an amused silent giggle before writing on the notebook again. “It is okay,” the pegasus read aloud after the note had been finished, “I am used to it. My name is Snow Storm, by the way.” “Delilah,” the tan mare said, extending her hoof out to give Snow Storm a proper hoofshake. “You must be the ‘Master Storm’ that Aureate Leaf mentioned earlier.” Snow Storm tried to hide her surprise upon hearing her student’s name. The Leafs, hrm? A lump had suddenly formed in her throat. Something felt... off. You are just being silly, Snowy. They are a prolific family, after all. Nevertheless, she quickly wrote onto her convenient notepad. “I must go. It was nice to meet you, Delilah.” “You, too,” she heard Delilah say as she stood up and trotted away to her class. 4 Snow Storm wrote a simple ‘good afternoon’ on the chalkboard, turning around to favor each of her students with a bright smile. “Good afternoon, Master Storm,” they replied, their voices melding into a single, cacophonous drone. Students from mere foal years up to adulthood had formed into their typical double-file line and stood at ten abreast, all of them comfortably in their training gear and eagerly awaiting the day’s test. She beamed at them all, knowing this was a day they’ve been anticipating for some time. It had come to the point where her pupils could put all that they had learned to practical use. In short, it was finally time to spar. Some of the students had been in fights long before they ever attended Snow Storm’s Dojo, of course. One such example was the adolescent stallion everyone referred to as ‘Southpaw’. The mute teacher grinned impishly as she watched Southpaw automatically partner up with Aureate Leaf, remembering with some fondness how she had come across him only a couple of years ago. Southpaw had challenged Snow Storm, declaring that he could easily take her down for being both a mare and physically petite. He had snarled when she merely mimicked laughing at his so-called threats, and he lunged when she had turned back to face the chalkboard. In a flash, she had stuck out a rear leg, landing the adolescent in the gut. Before he knew what was happening, she had flipped him over onto his stomach and sat squarely on his back, bowing as the class was first stunned and then applauded, themselves not quite believing in her abilities to teach them all self-defense until they saw the unplanned demonstration for themselves. That was all it had taken to turn the youth from an aggressive punk into a fine, upstanding gentlecolt. Even better, Southpaw had met a mare in the Dojo, falling head-over-hooves for the lovely Aureate Leaf. She had been the final factor in determining his complete reversal into a true gentlecolt. Snow Storm decided it was time for the test to begin. She cast a quick glance at the clock and smiled. Four o’clock, giving them two whole hours for her class to spar with themselves. Perfect. “Alright, class,” she felt their eyes turn toward the chalkboard as she wrote upon it. “Gear up.” During their collective ‘test’, Snow Storm walked around the room, closely observing the multiple pairs of students as they fought, first carefully and then with much more aggressively as their confidence built. Snow Storm quietly moved over to watch one of her younger students, Side Swipe, noting with pride he didn’t at all seem phased by his instructor’s presence, and instead focused wholly on his opponent. He had partnered up with a copper-red, blonde maned farm-filly his own age named Haymaker. Their teacher smiled as she watched them trade blows, thinking about the mutual crush the foals had developed for each other. With Haymaker living on a large farm just outside of Manehatten, and being homeschooled so she would have more time to help with the family’s alfalfa business, the only opportunity these two had to see each other freely was Snow Storm’s class. Snow Storm blinked as she watched them closer. Haymaker had taken the offensive, swiping and jabbing at her opponent. Side Swipe ducked and wove, anticipating every attack. It was almost as if they were a couple entranced in a dance. Side Swipe was agile, Snow Storm observed, but Haymaker was a smart fighter. The colt hopped aside from another of her attacks, seeing too late that it had just been a simple feint and was hit squarely in his vest, offering the filly a slight grunt from her surprisingly strong blow. “Oh no, did I hurt you!?” Haymaker asked, sitting down for a moment and wiping what seemed like an ocean of sweat from her brow. “Naw,” Side Swipe answered, doing the same as he smiled at her. “It was a good hit. You’re really strong,” he complimented, not knowing what else to say and just wanting to hear her squeaky voice. “Yeah, it’s probably all that hay I help lift...” Haymaker twisted her hoof back and forth into the mat, focusing all of her will into not blushing. By that point, Snow Storm had drifted off to let the two foals live in their own little world, martial arts forgotten for only a moment as they both caught their second winds. As the last hour marched on, some of the students decided to call it quits early, which was perfectly fine by their teacher. Everypony had their limits, and it was not the right time yet for her to push them beyond. By class’s end, all of the students were coated with an extra layer of sweat, each huffing heavily in between fits of jovial laughter. A few even showed off the bruises they had acquired through a mistimed attack or dodging to the wrong place at the wrong time. One by one they filed out of the Dojo, with Snow Storm exiting last. She took a deep breath of fresh air, and quietly suspected all of her students had done the same. By the end, the Dojo had reeked of sweat and hard work, and the students fulfilled their final duty of the day by cleaning out the room, giving it a pristine shine and preparing it for the next day’s lessons. Mosely Orange’s stand was closed for the night as Snow Storm passed by it on her way back home. The pure-white mare trotted toward her home with the sun to her back, thinking about her students. She thought about how their day was complete and they could relax comfortably at home, spending precious quality time with their families and simply enjoying life. And she thought about how her own day had only just begun. 5 Snow Storm shut the door to her apartment with her rear leg, breathing a deep sigh as she turned around to re-lock it. Despite living in the better part of Manehatten where one could sleep soundly at night, she would keep her living quarters locked whenever possible. After all, Snow Storm had a secret, and she couldn’t afford anypony learning of it. She slipped out of her training clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin as she took a fast shower, washing away the day’s sweat and preparing for tonight’s. There was no cheery overtone in the shower this time, however. She barely noticed the warm water hitting her this time, simply staring at the wetted shower floor. After a quick drying, Snow Storm’s heart pounded almost audibly against her chest as she made her way over to the large oak dresser she had placed across from her bed, opening the bottom drawer to reveal a seemingly-untidy mountain of clothes. She dug her hooves into the mess of unused clothes, and found both items that she had buried in the far corner of the drawer, as she had always done and always will do. If anypony were to discover what she had kept hidden, it would spell the end for her. She stared down at the deep-blue mask she clutched in her forelimbs, seeing her reflection in the silver, expressionless eyes. Her legs shook harder with a combination of fear and anger the longer she held the soft, stretching fabric. It was another of her strange rituals she went through, and this one was unpleasant. Her breathing became heavy, her teeth grinding as she glanced over to her side, eyes falling upon her favorite picture she possessed of herself and Frost Storm. That picture alone was enough to snap her out of her trance. She blinked at the mask, her hooves now trembling furiously as she fully remembered the why of what she did every single night. She did it so that no other foal would go through what she had gone through. So that no other foal would have to unnecessarily experience the unfathomable pain of loss; especially by the malicious hooves of a stupid thug. She slipped into the costume, skin tingling as the stretching, breathable fabric contorted to her physique with the utmost comfort. She pulled at the front of the neck, kissing Frost Storm’s face on the picture before securely sliding it into her suit. One of the modifications she had made to the costume was a small pocket where she could keep the photo right above her heart, so that Frosty would always be there with her, always ready to protect her like he had done on that fateful night. After that came the bad part. She scowled at the innocuous leather saddlebag sitting on her bed, like a foal would detest cold medicine even while being sick. But like the medicine, this was absolutely necessary. She’d have to wear the demonic bag across her body in order to keep that egg-shaped artifact safe. The worst part was she had to keep the bag strapped tight - she couldn’t afford it to come loose at the wrong moment and get lost. Wincing, she pulled bag’s strap hard, wheezing as it momentarily cut off her breath. Her ribs already ached in protest, and she forced herself to silence the pain. She then drew one last deep breath of fresh air, sliding the mask down over her face and applying the finishing touches in the form of a large, flat-brimmed hat. Snow Storm afforded one glance into her dresser mirror, seeing reflected back at her the costumed figure of the Mare Do Well. 6 Snow Storm once again perched in her favorite spot of the city, her blue eyes closed as her ears listened for any sign of disturbances. Manehatten wasn’t nearly as horrible as it had been when she returned those years ago, but it was still bad enough. Just the fact that the Mare Do Well existed in the first place proved that point. A sudden shiver came over her shrouded body, though it wasn’t from the chilly air of the night. Her eyes snapped open, and she swept her gaze down the street below. Her search was ended just as quickly as she spotted something peculiar - it was the tan pegasus she had quite literally run into earlier that day. Delilah... she thought, recalling the name from deep within her mind. Their eyes seemed to lock for a brief eternity - one pair ruby, the other silver. What is she doing out so late at night? Whatever it was, Snow Storm hoped she wouldn’t have to find out the hard way. She brought her head back up, returning to her restful meditations, and tried with all of her willpower to ignore the desire to rip the Luna-forsaken saddlebag from her fidgeting body.
Chapter ThreeView OnlineMask, Cape, and CowlChapter Three1 Snow Storm's ears flicked once, twice under her dark blue mask. The soft footfall of hooves against a concrete rooftop told her that someone was approaching. More than likely it was her friend on the force. With her ears only able to hear so little of Manehatten, Officer Bluecoat filled in many of the blank spots that she couldn't otherwise watch over. The mare under the suit felt her heart leap into her throat - if Bluecoat was here, then he'd have to arrest her. Even though they'd developed a professional friendship, he still had the law to uphold. The law which she had broken. Snow Storm snapped her eyes open and swiveled her masked head around, expecting to see the regretful face of an officer forced to fulfill his duty. Instead, she was met with a tan pegasus standing firmly in the center of her vision. Snow Storm’s brow arched in mild surprise as she comprehended Delilah’s presence, while it felt like her stomach was plummeting like a stone down a large well. The feeling that something was ‘off’ swept over her again, and all at once it clicked in her mind. Delilah must be the latest in Mr. Leaf’s line of goons hired to get his crystal artifact back. The mare in question wore a deep frown on her face, complementing the hard stare emanating from her ruby eyes. "Give me the Egg," Delilah demanded, shifting her eyes to the saddlebag on the Mare Do Well's side. Sporting a cheeky grin through her mask, Snow Storm nodded her head to the side and pointed down toward the street. Delilah followed the forelimb... straight to a brightly-lit grocery store. Delilah fumed, her eyes narrowing menacingly as she rounded on the Mare Do Well again. "Don't play games with me. Just give me what you stole from the Museum, and then you can go back to playing superhero for everyone." The Mare Do Well brought her forehoof up to her chin, rubbing it in mock contemplation before giving a firm shake of her head. "I wasn't asking," the pegasus growled, flaring her wings in a show of force as she inched closer to the costumed pony. An alarm blared from the ground, snapping the tension between the two mares as they both turned to face the disturbance. Delilah brought her head back forward, only to discover the Mare Do Well had vanished. "Oh no you don't!" she snarled, spotting the very tip of a dark-hued cape falling over the edge of the building. She dove for it, missed, and watched as the Mare Do Well slid down the fire escape and bolted into the night. 2 Mr. Leaf really wants this egg thing back, Snow Storm mused curiously as she galloped down the street. Manehatten’s nighttime crowd jumped out of the way for the shrouded mare as she ran by, murmuring excitedly to themselves. Through a hole in the crowd, Snow Storm spotted the vandalized shop which had offered her an excuse to break away from Delilah. Squinting through her silver lenses, she could see only a broken window, behind which an alarm belted out its grating tune for all of Manehatten to hear. Sporting a scowl at having lost the potential thief, Snow Storm quickly pivoted her head around, searching for any possible means to ascend to the rooftops above to give herself a better vantage point. Before she could even attempt to scale a building, Snow Storm was blindsided by a tan blur, sending her rolling into a small group of ponies. The adolescents she had been knocked into helped her back onto her feet, murmuring and giggling that they had been able to touch their resident savior. Snow Storm winced from the weighted saddlebag digging itself into her side when she had landed on it. She gave her head a violent shake, blinking the multitude of dots away from her eyes and slapping her hat back onto her crown, shooting a glare at the pegasus who had projectiled into her. A tan hoof arced across her peripheral vision, slamming squarely into her jaw. Snow Storm used the force of the blow to swing her body around on her front legs, double-barreling Delilah in the chest and sending the pegasus tumbling head-over-tail into an empty fruit stand. She bolted away once again, scrambling up the side of a nearby building via an external drainpipe. The criminals would have to wait. Snow Storm’s priority had changed to returning home safely with the Egg. * * * Delilah surged through a small wave of bodies, following the billowing cape of her impromptu adversary. No reward is worth this, she thought sardonically, pushing herself to close the gap between herself and the Mare Do Well. Around her, a low drone of excited mumbles rose into animated cheers and applause for the city’s resident savior. She scoffed at the idea that so many ponies could be so easily taken in by an obvious ruse this Mare Do Well had concocted, and then recalled the officer from earlier that day who had immediately defended the mare in question without any hesitation whatsoever. A break in the crowd finally presented itself. Delilah pushed off of the ground with her back feet, flaring her wings out and propelling herself into the Mare Do Well’s side, sending the mare rolling sideways into a small group of adolescents. Delilah was in the Mare Do Well’s face just as the mare was helped back onto her feet, throwing a powerful hoof into the side of the mask. She felt a significant resistance against the mask, as though she were punching a somewhat-stiff cloud. Her eyes bulged as she comprehended the next few seconds in perfect clarity; the Mare Do Well’s body swung around with supreme fluidity, and before Delilah knew anything else she was staring straight at a pair of cocked rear-legs. Oh cr- Her thought was cut off as she took the full force of the kick, launching her backwards like a bowling ball into a fruit stand and causing it to collapse on top of her. She pulled herself up out of the small rubble pile, brushing away splinters from all over her body. Delilah let out a small dry-heave, trying to catch her breath after the blow to her chest. Like getting hit by a lead block. But again she had felt that soft sensation, like the lead block was buffered by a fluffy cloud. Padded boots and armor. Got it. And then, dear Celestia... what is she like withoutthe padding? Delilah scanned the sky, spotting a caped figure making a daring leap between two largely spaced structures. The Mare Do Well had taken to the rooftops once more, probably hoping that Delilah wouldn’t risk flying illegally. How wrong you were. She crouched, flared her wings out, and took off. She crested the building, grimacing as she pushed her wings to their limit in order to catch up to the fleeing “hero”. Ahead, the Mare Do Well reached the edge of her building, not slowing even for a moment as she dove head-first into the alleyway below. “You’re mine now.” Delilah grinned triumphantly - there were only two directions her target could run, and Delilah would have the supreme advantage in the air regardless. She rocketed to the alleyway... only to find it empty, save for the random stray tomcat rummaging through a buffet of garbage cans and a lone dumpster. Delilah rubbed her furrowed brow, groaning in exasperation at having let her target get away. But it wasn’t her fault, was it? The Mare Do Well had simply vanished into thin air. Delilah lowered herself to the concrete alley, searching for any signs of a possible secret entrance and wishing more and more that she’d never taken this stupid job. Decrepit temples rigged with death-dealing booby traps was something she could easily handle; one costumed mare that outsmarted her at every turn was something she could not. “How could she have just disappeared!?” Delilah slammed a hoof hard into the concrete. Her ruby eyes shrunk to pinpricks and immediately she regretted the outburst as a lightning bolt of pain exploded on her hoof and crisscrossed up her leg. “Ow ow ow ow,” she moaned, drawing the forelimb up to her chest to cradle it. She hissed through her teeth and limped down the alleyway, biting the inside of her cheek as her fetlock pulsated in a dull ache. * * * Snow Storm galloped across the starlit rooftops, straining her petite body to outrun her pursuer. She risked a backwards glance, dismay gripping her stomach as tightly as the saddlebag she wore. The mare she had quite literally bumped into earlier that day had now taken to the skies in order to close the gap. So much for the no-fly rule. She could never outrun a pegasus in flight, and she knew it. To turn around and fight would mean risking the Egg, and that was unacceptable. Cannot run, cannot fight. So what canI do? She surveyed the building which was rapidly rising in front of her. It seemed to be one of Manehatten’s many apartment complexes, judging by the multitude of evenly-spaced windows on its side. Several of these were open, bringing the naturally cool air into the residencies. It was the only shot she had of escaping. Never breaking her stride, Snow Storm dove down from the edge of the building, aiming toward an unlit window which (she hoped) was open like so many others. She fell snugly into the opening and landed on her padded hooves upon the hardwood floor with a dull thud, rolling head-over-flank and pushing herself to the side and into the shadows. She ripped the wide-brimmed hat from her head, stuffing it behind her prone body as she watched Delilah fly up and hover in place, scanning the alleyway below. Do not look in the windows... Do notlook in the windows... Snow Storm felt safe enough in the darkened room; her suit would blend decently in with the shadows from afar. But if the pegasus decided to give a close inspection to the apartment units, the camouflage would be useless. Still, she held her breath; the slightest movement might give her position away. After what felt like an eternity, Delilah lowered herself out of view. Snow Storm kept her position, listening for any signs the mare might give. Finally, her ears twitched as she heard Delilah speaking to herself, followed by a dull thump and a string of curses. Finally, finally she heard the offbeat clop clop clop of a pony limping away on three legs. From behind, the creaking of a wooden door caused Snow Storm to nearly fly out of her skin. She spun her head around, quickly slapping her hat back on. In the doorway between rooms stood a rather lean unicorn in a blue gown and matching nightcap, knees buckling as he nervously investigated strange sounds emanating from within his living room. “W-who’s there? I-I know magic! Powerful magic! You better go away!” He clenched his eyes, teeth gritting as sparks began to fly from his horn. Finally he let out a gasp of relief, feeling a wave of ether pulse through his magical leylines and converge at the very tip of his horn, forming into a ball of light. “Aha!” he proudly exclaimed, opening his eyes once again. His jaw nearly slammed into the floor as he took in the sight of his living room... or rather, what was in his living room. “Ma-ma-mare...” He could only stammer, eye twitching as he backed away slowly. The Mare Do Well perched on his window sill, her mask creased into a smile as she brought a forelimb up, waving at him as though they were simply passing on the street. Dumbstruck, he brought his own foreleg up, returning the wave with total absentmindedness. In one swift motion, she brought her hoof to the corner of her mouth, swiping it across her face and to the other corner. He understood the gesture at once: Keep quiet. He nodded his understanding, dissipating the spell from his horn and slowly backing away into his bedroom. He blinked once to clear spots from his eyes, and the Mare Do Well was gone. 3 Snow Storm darted down Manehatten’s infinite web of alleyways, glancing back every so often incase she was being followed. So far, there had been no sign of Delilah - hopefully she had given up the chase for the night. Snow Storm pulled herself back to a brisk trot, wishing she was home already. She scrunched her face as it poured out sweat, causing her mask to stick incessantly as well as filling her nostrils with the pungent odor of tireless exertion. She couldn’t remember the last time she put forth so much effort in a single night - stopping criminals on the street was a cakewalk for her. And even if she had trouble, there was always a moment of respite atop the Manehatten buildings. Some nights even afforded her to take off the mask and breathe a sigh of fresh air. Her petite body begged to slow down, but her mind refused. The heavy saddlebag ground against her side at the trot, and a stitch had embedded itself into her, poking it’s malice between her ribcage like a white-hot branding iron. And her home felt like it was still a million miles away. Reaching the end of the umpteenth alleyway, Snow Storm trotted out into an abandoned street bathed in the orange glow from twin rows of street lamps, her senses easing in the serene silence. She almost reached the next shortcut between streets when a heavy force tackled her from the side, pushing the saddlebag deeper into her ribs and sending her rolling into a lamp post. “Miss me?” a familiar voice -- no longer amused but instead bordering on irate -- growled. Snow Storm was on her feet in a flash, glaring through her silver lenses and straight into Delilah’s very being. Enough was finally enough. * * * Delilah trotted into a street now almost empty, favoring her forelimb as she contemplated giving up for the night. Why even bother? she asked herself bitterly. Very rarely had she failed on her grand adventures, and never so hard. Why? Because I’m Daring freaking Do, that’s why. That alone seemed to lift her spirits, forcing a cocky grin to plaster itself on her face. Because she was Daring Do, and Daring Do always got her treasure. The grin just as quickly disappeared when she heard a muffled thump come from the alleyway behind her. She turned around, eyes bugging out as she saw the Mare Do Well galloping away. Delilah ground her teeth, whipping out her wings once again and flying low, stalking the Mare Do Well like a bird of prey - running would only injure her swollen fetlock even more. Many times, she saw the mare ahead shoot her masked head around to look back, to which Delilah responded by ducking behind a dumpster or moving onto a street itself and out of an alley’s line-of-sight. She had no idea where the Mare Do Well might’ve been going, but this cat-and-mouse game had to end. At the street, Delilah broke left, hoping her assessment of Manehatten being a giant grid was correct. It was. She ducked into an alley which ran parallel to the Mare Do Well’s patch a couple of blocks over, racing to beat out the mare and hopefully catch her off-guard. It was no longer simply about the Crystalline Egg and getting her money. The Mare Do Well had outsmarted her at every single turn, and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that at all. Her target trotted out from between the buildings, apparently confident that she wasn’t being tailed after all. Delilah made her move, rocketing towards the Mare Do Well and slamming hard into her side. The Mare Do Well was sent reeling toward a black lamp post, knocking into it with a clang which rang from the reverberating decoration. “Miss me?” Delilah’s voice was low, angry. The Egg was momentarily forgotten - she simply wanted to lay her hooves on the Mare Do Well’s masked face. She’d had enough games for one night. Apparently the Mare Do Well had had enough games, as well. Delilah could read the annoyed anger in the mare’s aggressive stance. The very tops of those silver eyes were cut away as a brow furrowed deeply; Delilah could almost imagine the piercing glare behind the mask. Before the pegasus even knew what happened, the Mare Do Well had charged, sending a single forelimb both to her chest and her muzzle in rapid succession. Delilah staggered backward, shocked by the ferocity of the attack and tasting trace amounts of copper in her mouth. The Mare Do Well kept her pace as she dropped low to the ground, swinging around a rear leg in a long, sweeping arc. Delilah legs were kicked out from under her and she fell flat onto her side, feeling all of her weight press down onto her wing and crying out as she felt a bone inside it snap. She picked herself up, swinging wildly at her costumed opponent who only dodged every potential blow with unearthly fluidity. One swipe felt like it hit a brick wall as the Mare Do Well brought her own forelimb up to block it, sending her other one at Delilah’s eye with a quick jab. Delilah reared away from the attack, and the Mare Do Well twisted around, bucking the pegasus in the gut. Delilah retched from the attack, her ruby eyes shrivelling into tiny pinpricks as she fell to the ground, panting heavily. The shadow of the Mare Do Well filled the ground beneath her vision. With a shuddering breath, she screamed, “I’ve had enough!” and swung hard, clipping the side of the Mare Do Well’s face with what remained of her strength. She saw the mare stagger drunkenly backwards and fall to her haunches, acutely aware that... something looked different. Her furious gaze ran up the length of her trembling foreleg and onto the soft fabric which rested on her hoof, staring at her with its silver, expressionless eyes. * * * Snow Storm had finally reached her limit. If she couldn’t get away from Delilah, she would make sure that the pegasus would leave her alone. It had been a very long time since she had to put any real strength in her blows, and now she almost relished the opportunity. In truth, if it wasn’t for the fact that she had something precious to protect, she’d enjoy the challenge of a true fight. Snow Storm charged, running up on the mare and jabbing her in the face and chest. Before Delilah could react, Snow Storm ducked low, sweeping the mare’s legs out from under her. Delilah was back up in admirable time, throwing her forelimbs out with seeming randomness. Snow Storm observed quickly as the attacks had a certain gruff rhythm to them, and decided to break it by blocking the next swing. The leg hit her own with a surprising amount of force, but she held it steady as she brought her free limb up, giving Delilah a quick shot to the eye before swinging around to double-barrel her in the gut. She heard a sickening gagging sound emanate from the pegasus, and watched as Delilah slumped to the ground, seemingly defeated. Snow Storm sauntered up to her trembling opponent, ready to finish the fight. She never saw the blow coming as Delilah sucked in a hard breath and screamed, “I’ve had enough!” Snow Storm staggered backwards from the unexpected blow and fell to her haunches. She blinked once, twice... and realized she was staring at a Manehatten night through her own eyes. She inhaled sharply, raising what she could reach of her cape up to her face to cover it. But it was too late. Delilah had already seen everything. * * * “You... you’re that mare I met earlier today.” Delilah couldn’t quite bring herself to believe what she was seeing. The Mare Do Well had quickly covered most of her face with her cape, leaving only her icy blue eyes exposed. But Delilah recognized that simple streak of grey cutting through a sea of blue which made up Snow Storm’s mane. The unmasked Mare Do Well shook her head in denial, but it was futile. Delilah knew the truth now. What’s more, she had the upper-hoof. “Look, just give me the Egg already and I won’t tell everyone in this entire city your secret, okay? I’ll even do this as a sign of good faith.” She tossed the mask back to Snow Storm, who quickly slipped it back on along with her hat which had been dislodged during the scuffle. “Now come on. You owe me.” Conceding defeat, Snow Storm nodded solemnly. Slowly she unbuckled the saddlebag, feeling instant relief as the strap was freed from her gullet. She tossed it unceremoniously at Delilah’s feet, quickly standing up and galloping away into the refuge of the night. Delilah decided to let her go, instead focusing on her hard-fought victory. Years of habit forced her to open the satchel slowly and dig carefully, though what sort of booby traps there could be in such a small bag she had no idea. There was only a solid lump in the bag. She tongued her cheek as she felt it - it wasn’t at all smooth like she assumed it would be, not that it ultimately mattered. Dismissing the thing’s texture, she finally willed herself to pull it out of the bag, only for her triumphant smile to die as her eyes fell upon the contents of the saddlebag. A rock. It was a stupid, nondescript, grey rock. Delilah could feel her own blood boiling as the recognition set in. The Mare Do Well had been carrying it as a decoy the entire time. She snorted through her nostrils like an angry bull, wanting to tear that Snow Storm’s head from her neck and shove it in unpleasant places. She let loose a scream of fury, chucking the rock as hard as she could down the nearest alleyway. It slammed into a metal garbage can, forcing the feline occupants to scramble out with outraged hisses. She strapped the empty saddlebag to herself, deciding to give up for the night. Her jaw was sore, her fetlock still throbbed, and she was sure she had a black eye. All in all, she only wanted the night to end and for tomorrow to begin. Sighing, she lethargically trudged her way back to Gilded Leaf’s home. 4 “Come in!” Aureate Leaf invited, responding to the small knocking on her door. It creaked open, allowing entry to a beaten-up pegasus. “Hey there, Miss Delilah.” The adolescent mare closed her studying material for a moment, instead focusing on entertaining their latest house guest. “You don’t look so good, if I may be allowed to say so.” Delilah smiled at that. “You’re more than allowed.” I could at least tell her. Get it off of my chest. “Is there anything I can possibly help you with?” Aureate’s head tilted to the side in curiosity. “Yes, actually. Would your fighting instructor mind an extra student?” “Master Storm? I’m sure she’d love it!” Aureate smiled brightly, her eyes alighting just thinking about Master Storm’s class. “Er... can I ask why?” Because your teacher is the Mare Do Well and I’m going to catch her off guard. “Because I had a run-in with the Mare Do Well tonight, and I don’t think I fought her right.” Aureate’s expression grew more awestruck at the mention of the Manehatten hero. “You got to see the Mare Do Well!? What is she like? I hear she fights really, really good.” You should know, kid. You train under her every day. “She was too quick for me to even keep up with. Then again, I’ve always been a boxing kind of girl. Never could figure out that martial arts stuff.” Aureate giggled. “It’s not really as hard as it looks, Miss Delilah. And actually, a few of my classmates were street boxers, so you shouldn’t feel completely out of place.” “Alright, thanks.” Delilah wavered on her feet. She turned around, making her way out of the door and into her own bedroom. “What time should I show up there?” “Be at the downtown Dojo at four o’clock. If nothing else, I hope you have fun there tomorrow.” “Yeah...” Delilah turned her head, grinning to herself. The hunt wasn’t over, after all. “I can’t wait.”