Melody stole silently down the busy street of Canterlot.

It was an unusual setting for one of her skill. Of her stature. But she had a goal in her sights, and she wouldn’t let this rare prey escape her blade.

Blueblood.

Her invisibility came naturally; blending into the ponies around her. It had taken years to master the arts of stealth, but training had honed her into the perfect weapon.

She slipped completely unseen between large crowds; hiding in the large groups, gossiping in the small. She had to get to that white unicorn before he slipped out of her sights.

It was an unnecessary risk. She knew it. Her luck had been running so well thus far. First, the whole Killer thing. Then the ordeal with her sister, and to top it off, just that last week with Paen… Her luck was definitely running thin. She couldn't risk it draining off on one pony.

She chided herself. She could be so many other places, so many other contracts to fill. But this was Blueblood. She would never let herself live it down if he slipped through her hooves. She had to get to him. Or she would consider herself useless as a rogue.

As Blueblood stopped to examine a jewellery stall, Melody saw her chance. She closed the gap quickly, opening her bracelet knife. She had to thank that smith. He knew his craft-work, and hadn’t questioned her request. A small band of silver, with a metal engraving that could be slid out to make a knife. Simple, but elegant and stealthy. Much like Melody herself.

The cream mare stole up beside Blueblood, catching parts of his conversation.

“You call this junk ‘jewellery’? Don’t let it touch me; it'll rust on my beautiful white coat!”

Melody resisted the urge to snort, lest she break her invisibility she had so carefully woven. She approached the royalty, her eyes pinned on his neck. Sliding the blade up carefully, she made one fine cut, severing his purse cord. She drew her second hoof up quickly, but carefully.

It was a good thing royalty usually kept their coin purses around their neck. It was another stroke of her thin luck that Blueblood was particularly oblivious, and that he wore his for show. However, he would never let it be caught empty. That just wasn’t regal enough for his liking.

Melody tossed the coin purse lightly, sauntering away from her target, who was still berating the poor jeweller. A good hundred bits, at least. She mentally congratulated herself. 'Good hunt, Melody.'

She wandered aimlessly down the streets of Canterlot. So many things she could do with a purse-full of gold. She began to window shop, passing each store rapidly. She paused to look at a long, flowing red dress. 'I wonder…. No, don’t be foalish, Melody. Act your age.'

Eventually, she managed to make her way to the place she had been subconsciously directing herself towards. The Sweet Shoppe. Melody greeted the large, oaken sign with suppressed glee.

As she pushed open the front door, her nostrils were assaulted by a million different sweet smells, and the suppressing heat from the large oven in the back. She slowly approached the un-ponied counter, reaching her hoof outward to ring a small bell.

The bell had barely been touched when a large, thin looking unicorn came out from the back. “Greetings, Melody. Come back again, eh?”

Melody gave a small nod. “Yes, sir.”

The tall, orange pony shook his head. “Melody, how many times have I asked you to call me Mr. Cake?”

Melody shook her head. “Pray, don’t ask that of me. I’m far too accustomed to calling people ‘Sir’ or ‘Madam’.”

Mr. Cake shook his large, ashen head. “Well, you refuse to call me ‘Short’. So I must ask… Nay, I demand that you call me Mr. Cake.”

Melody raised her eyebrow mockingly. “Or what, pray tell?”

“Or you shan’t get a single more in the line of sweets.” Short said simply.

Melody mock-gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?”

A small pout painted itself on Melody’s muzzle. Finally, she bowed her head, defeated. “Alright, Mr. Cake.”

Grinning, the orange pony brushed aside his brown mane. “So, will you want the usual?”

Melody nodded, and she could feel herself drooling childishly already. “Yes, please! Make it a double.”

Short gazed at her questioningly for a second before going about his business. Melody watched with juvenile gaiety as the tall orange pony began pulling lengths of taffy. She had to constrain herself from leaping the counter as the long, bronze strands were cut and packaged into a small white bag.

Short pushed the bag across the counter. “There y’go, Mel. Fresh pulled taffy. Two pounds.”

Melody smiled at the large white bag. “How much do I owe?”

Short gazed at her with concern. “Fifty bits.”

The small brown purse zipped to her side, and Melody began counting out bits. “Forty eight…Forty nine…Fifty! There you go.”

Short gazed at the small mound of bits. “Where in Equestria did you lay your hooves on all of this?”

A knowing smile flitted about Melody’s lips. “Oh, I guess you could say today has really been my day.”

Melody grabbed the small bag, hardly waiting till she was outside to dig into the contents. Popping a small, bronze chunk into her mouth, she sighed as best she could with her jaws glued together as the taffy started to melt in her mouth, creating a small pool of nothing but sugar and water.

'Luna, but if my enemies found out how much I love this stuff…'

The glue no longer holding her jaws, she smiled up at the sun. Today was a good day. She still had Bluebloods’ bits, and Short hadn’t been too inquisitive. It was definitely a good day.

Melody began walking down the street at a much slower pace than she had earlier. She gazed from shop to shop, finding nothing to catch her interest. The only excitement came three blocks later, as she finished her candy. 'Damn. Out already? Ah, well.' She tossed the small white bag into a trash can around the corner.

Passing a small alley, Melody froze, her keener senses kicking in. Leaning back around the corner, she saw a small pink colt lying on the floor of the alley.

Melody’s maternal senses overtook her, and she cautiously walked into the street. She glanced from rooftop to rooftop, doing a ninety degree sweep of the alley. About four yards away, she stopped, not daring to trust a thing. Today was her day. Nothing was going to ruin it.

Leaning forward, she begged help from her other senses. A small sniff identified this pony as no stranger to the streets. But there was a second smell, one she recognized. But she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. It was a scent from long ago.

Throwing slight caution to the wind, Melody finally spoke. “Are you okay?”

The pink colt turned slightly, his eyes filled with tears. He slightly shook his head, sniffing.

Melody took another step closer. “Pray, what’s wrong?”

The colt turned it’s head away, murmuring something to itself. Melody took another hoofstep closer. “Beg pardon?”

Suddenly, the colt turned, a long steel dagger in his hoof. “I said ‘You still ‘ave your purse.’”

Melody heard the sound of hoofsteps behind her, and turning her head slightly, she saw an odd sight. Two ponies, one grey, one green. They were both standing on their hind hooves, cudgels and makeshift weapons stuck in some of the oddest places in their grey vests.

The gryphon, however, she instantly recognised. From his bright green eyes to his grey feathers. From his black fur, all the way to his greasy little white-tipped tail.

Melody let out a low growl. “Vulture.” She said curtly.

“Melody, luv.” The grey gryphon said. “You ‘ave no idea ‘ow much it’s cost me to look for ya’. I’ve been searchin’ bluddy everywhere!”

“Nor do I care.” Brushing her black mane out from in front of her eyes, Melody tone was acidic. “I have talents for staying hidden from those I don’t wish to see.”

Vulture winced, clutching his chest in his long talons. “Ooo… That ‘urt, luv. Ain’t even gunna lie. But still…” She watched as the gryphon drew a rapier out of the sheath he had around his middle.

“You’ve gotta learn your manners, luv.”

Melody sank into her regular fighting crouch, preparing for the upcoming fight. “Well, Vulture. You’ve always been an expert in manners. So be polite, and when your face slams into the ground, do great it properly.”

The gryphon let out a low growl, pointing a long claw at her. “Bring me her head, mates, and you’re my new right claw mate.”

As the two pony’s slowly approached, Melody winced: long forgotten memories coming back to the front of her mind.

Author's Note

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