The Dark Fox of Ponyville

by Sam Polson

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 6831

A regular Dark one Watchman named Foxy heads to Ponyville to resolve a situation with an anomaly, which has been giving the Light ones an unfair advantage.

Look around you. Those ponies, who you are used to seeing every day from morning ‘till night, could be not who they outwardly seem. That lovely mare can be a witch, making deadly poisons and curses, and that stallion may be a warlock seasoned in battle and baptised in blood, casting fatal magics from all four of his hooves.

They are called the Others. Ponies, who were born with the ability to consume emotional energy and convert it to spells which can shake the very foundations of the world. Those who can enter another dimension, to see the true world bereft of its mask known as ‘reality’.

Foxy is one of them. A regular Dark one mage serving diligently in the Day Watch of Canterlot, which helps to police both the physical plane, and the other world—the Twilight—from any disturbances or imbalance. He thought that his life would be steady and largely uneventful, as it had usually been before.

But sometimes even the Others can’t predict what they are getting into.

Written in collaboration with Setokaiva. A crossover/alternate universe story between MLP and the ‘Watches’ book universe.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-22 07:10:03 UTC

Chapter 1

        “So, none of you can answer such a simple question?”

I cast my gaze around the lecture room. Twenty-eight dunces, who tried diligently to show at least some signs of brain activity, but the best they could give was blank stares and nervous fidgeting about. Well, not surprising for me at all.

I wondered what egregious sin I had committed against the princess to be punished so brutally? A treason, no less. Although it could be worse... at least I hoped I hadn’t fallen into the worst. Maybe for somepony else, teaching could bring satisfaction—joy, even—but certainly not for me. And what vexes me the most? She knows it, too. So, what the hay?!

“Um... can I...”

Finally; at least one of them wasn’t voiceless. I looked at a young purple-maned filly, who was shyly raising her hoof.

“Yes, you may. So, how many power levels do the Others have?”

“S-seven...”

I didn't respond, still looking expectantly at the filly who, apparently, reached a brand new level of discomfort.

“Can you please give me more details?” I asked calmly, trying to prevent her inevitable nervous breakdown.

“Y-yes. Of course!” She relaxed a bit; good. Less headaches for me.

“There are seven power levels. Each magician after the initiation receives his basic grade. With intense praxis and proper study, it could be increased by one, two or even three degrees. It depends on the magician’s potential, which commonly could be defined after the detection of the Other’s abilities.

“Most magicians have a power level in the range between seven and four. The Others with the third rank are much more rare, especially the two strongest levels—their units are almost only in the cities, like Manehattan and Canterlot.”

She finished and sat at her place. I nodded to her, and said to the rest of the class:

“Almost correct. What did she miss?”

Several hooves raised in the air; it seemed like the case had finally moved forward. I was required only to choose. I nodded towards an eager-looking amber-maned filly, who was ecstatically pumping her forehoof in the air as if to tower above all the others.

“There are also magicians who are beyond any level ratings. They are called the Higher Ones.”

“Exactly.” I confirmed, causing her to smile brightly. “They are very few; for example, in Canterlot there are only four Higher Magicians. Two of them are our rulers, who need no introduction.

“Mages beyond levels possess a vast power and, thanks to that, can create things and perform feats which we could only dream about. In addition, they can reach the deepest levels of the Twilight; up to and including the sixth.”

I was silent for a moment, enjoying the reverent whispers that flowed through the room in response to my words. It was almost worth the indignity of being forced to play didact for this rather uninspired group of fledgling minds.

Another hoof shot up in the air, to which I inclined my head to signal them to proceed. “If there’s seven levels of mages, does that mean there’s seven levels of the Twilight, too?”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise at the brown-coated colt’s intuition, but shook my head. “Not necessarily. Besides, being of a higher level does not mean you can access the same layer of the Twilight; for example, a seventh-level mage can reach the first, but a sixth-level cannot reach the second. In fact, only those of the fourth level or higher can get even that far, and the third layer is inaccessible to any being below the second level.”

He blinked several times, wearing a brow-knitted frown as he apparently mulled over what I had said. Finally, he spoke up again, this time more slowly.. “So... what’s the difference between the different layers of the Twilight, then?”

I managed to contain my exasperated sigh, but I felt a vein pulse in my cranium nonetheless. Headache, my old friend, we meet again.

“Perhaps it would be best if I gave you a brief demonstration, rather than an explanation. Would one of you like to volunteer, please?”

This caused an excited murmur amongst the assembled colts and fillies, some vying for front row position and raising their hooves in the air, trying to shout over each other to be the first.

I banged a hoof on my desk several times, startling the majority of them into silence. “You.” I said crisply, inclining my head towards the same colt from earlier. The rest of the class looked crestfallen as he hopped up before my desk with an eager smirk.

“Now let’s not worry too much,” I said in a placating tone. “The rest of you can observe; just look into the Twilight, as you already know. Besides,” I added with a knowing smirk of my own, “You’d be quite a bit less excited about this if you knew just what was involved.”

The colt blinked and fidgeted somewhat nervously, but to his credit did not take a step back from me. The peer pressure from the many raised voices behind him, egging him on, probably didn’t help much either.

“Alright,” I said as I stepped to the side of the desk to stand directly before the colt. “We will both enter the first layer of the Twilight; and then, I will show you some real tricks.”

Being the focus of attention for everypony in the room couldn’t have been good for his concentration, of which you must always keep in mind; especially when you are young and still inexperienced in such things. Still, I watched with silent approval—and the rest of the class with gasps of awe—as the colt first craned his head from side to side, as if trying to find something; and then he seemingly winked out of existence in the very definition of abruptness. No sound, no bright flash or some other fancy special effects you would expect from magical or otherwise supernatural acts; just gone, so fast that if you blinked you would have missed it.

Nodding, I looked around and soon came upon my real shadow; which was born by the Twilight itself. Others can use it as the link to enter the shadow world. The hardest part of slipping into the Twilight—or going deeper, if you were already there—is finding your shadow. Once you detect it, the rest is a piece of cake.

Luckily for me, I wasn’t a seventh-level mage who would definitely be looking for his shadow for a good minute or so. I reached out with my mind to grab hold of it and raised it up around me, waited until it grew bigger and volumetric and entered the other plane of existence. If I was more interested in my current activity, I would watch that colt through the Twilight in order to find out how he was doing in this procedure and correct him, if necessary. But...

I looked ahead to find the form of the colt, still a noticeable brown like normal but made to look somewhat oily and distorted by the Twilight.

He stared back at me with a noticeably nervous expression, as if anxiously waiting for me to make the next move. I cast a quick glance around and found the rest of the class facing in our direction, as well; however, they appeared as little more than monochrome silhouettes as opposed to myself and the colt.

I began to pace back and forth in front of him, my eyes half-lidded as if in deep thought; but really, I was just looking around for my true shadow once more, which is always damned hard to find if you’re already in the parallel dimension. I found it soon enough, and now it was time for me to go deeper; to the second layer of the Twilight.

Sounds disappeared completely. The world became even more gray and dry in texture, and many items replaced themselves with their Twilight analogues; my desk, for example, turned from solid wood to dark ebony, and became larger and more jagged. The aura signatures around the assembled schoolfoals were now glowing like trees on Heart’s Warming Eve, pulsing and contracting with spikes and jagged edges instead of being smooth and round; no more than an indicator of their status as the Others, however.

I looked to myself. I was in my real Twilight form; a gray-scaled being with a pair of curved horns on my head, membranous wings, a long, flexible tail and sharp claws. I never understood why we always returned back to this old-style demon-like form. We can be more creative than that, since we’re not the Light ones; all they can have is a glowing white body and pair of ivory wings, no matter their race.

I shook my head. No more distractions; I needed to finish the demonstration. Show them the difference between the several layers of the Twilight.

I glanced at the colt. His physical form was visible for me as a blurry silhouette, but his aura pulsed very brightly with green and dark-blue; colors of excitement, curiosity and worry. Plus some dark red, tinged with black; he was scared. Just a little.

I slowly reached out a hoof and even more slowly patted him on the shoulder. His reaction was so slow that if the Twilight wasn’t draining my energy, I would have likely fallen asleep.

Once he was finally able to look directly at me, I lazily stepped away from him and slowly moved some distance away, inviting him to follow me.

Well, ‘speed of a dying snail’ was the best expression to describe his movements. I was waiting nearly a minute for him to cover the distance; I walked for a few seconds.

Not long after that, I began to feel his tiredness; the Twilight was draining too much of his energy. I decided to end the demonstration, as I didn’t want to be responsible for his hypoglycemic coma or something similarly nasty.

I quickly jumped up to the first layer of the Twilight, grabbed my hapless student and together we returned to the ponies reality through my shadow. He was too weak to find his own at that point.

We appeared at the floor, breathing heavily. My condition was satisfactory, but the colt was sweating intensely, sucking in great gasps of air as if he’d previously been drowning; not a bad metaphor in this case, actually.

“Easy, easy,” I spoke in a low voice, gently urging him to kneel down on the floor so he wouldn’t fall over. “Wait here one moment.” I muttered to him, giving one last reassuring pat on his back before heading back to my desk. I opened one of the drawers and produced a simple wrapped chocolate bar, of which I kept several for just this sort of occasion.

Quickly returning to the exhausted colt, I half-unwrapped the bar and held it out to him. “Eat this; it helps, really helps.”

His only response was a grateful outrush of breath before he set upon the proffered treat with vigorous bites.

“First,” I said, turning my attention to the class, “Being in a deeper level of the Twilight relative to anypony else means you can move much faster than them, as a result of the time dilation principle that exists between layers. It also allows you to draw much more readily on the ambient magical energy from the Twilight; however, it also increases the rate at which it weakens you. As a magician goes up in levels, his threshold of resilience to the Twilight increases as well, until he can remain there for hours, as opposed to minutes.

“Also, the second layer and further of the Twilight reveals everything in its true colors: ours, and the Light ones real appearance, the genuine forms of mundane items... even the text of newspapers and books changes, revealing only what the writer really wanted to write. Mostly, though, you can read a real text even in the first level of the Twilight. It depends on possibility if this writer is an uninitiated Other, or no.

“Lastly, remaining in the Twilight for too long is very detrimental to your health, as it saps vital nutrients and energy from your body; most importantly, glucose. Thus, it is necessary to consume something sweet, like a chocolate bar, to replenish what you have lost.

“Otherwise...” I paused, allowing my words to sink in, “Your body will end up exhausted from lack of energy, which can lead to all sorts of nasty problems.”

The entire classroom was silent, both awe and apprehension playing on their expressions as they hung on every word I spoke. “So remember, kids; never, ever enter the Twilight on your own without adult supervision, and always keep some source of glucose sugars ready for emergencies.”

I looked out over the room once more. “Now, then; did everypony catch all that, or would you like me to run the demonstration again?” The crowd of schoolfoals immediately backed away, firmly shaking their heads and uttering quick denials on their way back to their seats.

I simply nodded, the facade of my schoolteacher’s smile being the only thing to betray the smirk that lurked within.

“Well, let’s continue...”

~[* .*. *]~

My mother always used to say: “Everything has to come to an end.” A little bit cliche, perhaps, but very true. I was convinced in this too many times, to not believe that statement held veracity.

That lesson had its end too, thankfully. I sighed with relief, watching the last student leave the lecture room. I rose from my place with a stretch, dearly craving a good rest after the ordeal, when a very familiar voice abruptly interrupted my thoughts.

‘My apologies, but I can’t have that. We need you at the briefing. Now.’

I groaned. That one could not think of a more inappropriate time. Thanks, Princess!

‘You’re welcome, Foxy.’  the voice said again with thinly-veiled sarcasm.

Turning back to my desk for a moment, I quickly grabbed my quill and one of several slips of paper I always keep for emergencies.

Note to myself - control emotions during telepathy sessions

~ Foxy

Finished, and more than ready to finally leave this place, I deftly slipped the newly-made note amongst the other assorted items in my saddlebags behind the desk. Finally, I faced the dreaded classroom door once more, this time thankfully heading out as opposed to in. Slinging the bags over my back with practiced ease, I quickly took the nearest exit away from that confounded place.

I trotted through the hall of Canterlot’s Day Watch HQ, lazily glancing around. There was nothing new for me, a pony almost literally living in his job; especially in recent days when, instead of my regular work duties I was forced into teaching activities for no good reason. Well, that was my point of view; I had no doubt that the Princess could acquit my new activities with dozens of reasons. At the very least.

It was a simple corridor with wooden walls and bright-colored, almost shining flooring, since it got cleaned twice a day. The doors on both sides of it held plaques, telling which department lay beyond.

‘ANALYSIS CENTER’

‘OPERATIVE BRANCH’

‘ARCHIVES’

‘DEPARTMENT OF EXTERNAL AFFAIRS’

I gave a snort at that last one; apparently, ‘Department of Interactions with the Light Ones’ was just too long and awkward to put on a plaque, let alone use in regular business circle talk. I wasn’t complaining, though.

Through some closed doors there was a faint, sweetish-smelling smoke lazily trailing out. A few of our employees used Saddle Arabia’s opiates to get fresh and concentrated; a good alternative to the more conventional way of magical invigoration, since it will not make you addicted to stimulation so much.

After a few minutes of brisk walking, I came to a door—much like any other in the office, except the plaque read ‘CHIEF’S OFFICE’ and directly below that, a note read ‘MEETING IN SESSION - BOARD MEMBERS ONLY’. I set a hoof to the door and pushed; surprisingly, it wasn’t even locked.

“Sorry I'm late. Can I come inside?” I asked, poking my head in the door.

“Good afternoon, Foxy. Please, come and close the door behind you.”

You couldn’t tell for certain what style prevailed in this room; most likely there was some kind of crazy mix of all kinds. Comfortable cushions of all colors of the rainbow were side by side with a somehow grim and dark table; soft blue curtains hanging over the windows which slightly covered the inside from the sun’s heat; and exotic plants which, no doubt, were no representatives of common Equestrian flora.

The walls were hung with many things that one barely expected to see in a simple office, even one belonging to the head of the organization. Every single item, from old tapestries to fragments of broken magic crystal contained a good, long background story of it. And sometimes, if you are lucky enough, you can even hear some of these stories firsthoof from the owner.

Most certainly it would be a surprise for some newbies that Luna, Princess of the Night and supreme leader of the Day Watch was somehow sentimental and kept material memories in her office; but in the end, everypony has their little weaknesses. Even one of the strongest and oldest enchantresses in all existence.

I quickly slipped into the room, gently sliding the door back into its frame before turning to face the group; and was almost immediately catapulted into the pea soup that was the Day Watch governing body.

“We were wondering when you’d show up,” one of them, a familiar orange-coated pegasus mare with a bright yellow mane shot with red highlights said archly as I took my seat.

“Aww, I’m touched,” I replied sarcastically. “For a minute there, I was afraid that you’d actually start without me. But you’d never do that, would you, Blaze?”

“Quite so,” said another voice, rich and flowing yet with an easygoing lilt to it. “We couldn’t possibly start without our sole chief elementary school faculty member.”

I shot the earth-colored pony next to me a sour look; but honestly, I hadn’t expected much less from Octavia. Despite being not even street-level, she still managed to fit into our obscure little clique of a bureaucracy by sheer virtue of her intelligence; and her talent at predicting the path of almost any given situation, dialogue or artifice of the mind. In short, you didn’t want to play her at chess. Ever.

“I know what you’re thinkin’, Foxy.”

I raised an eyebrow curiously at Blaze, inwardly grateful there was currently at least one piece of furniture between me and that garish mare. Blaze was a former Wonderbolt who, after her initiation into the Day Watch, left the team, judging that her skill in the healing arts would prove more useful here. And she was darn right about it; many folks already owed her their health, or even their lives.

Still, though, I just wished that she would stop being so proud and stuck-up about it. “Oh? Did you somehow manage to learn how to properly use telepathy when I wasn’t looking?”

“Hey, I can pull a net through somepony’s head just as well as the next mare,” she said with mock hurt, then continued. “Nah, I mean I’ve been doing my job just fine; there just hasn’t been that much back-and-forth going on between the shinies or the darkies, so what’s so bad about lettin’ my desk gather a little dust?” she finished with a dismissive wave of her hoof.

“Indeed. Perhaps we should give the desk your job, instead,” I shot back.

I could almost see the red in Blaze’s hair begin to pulse with pent-up energy as she narrowed her eyes in my direction. I remained perfectly still, though in my mind I was sighing in frustration. Here we go again...

“Waitwaitwaitwait, stopstopstop!” The sheer abruptness of the frantic command broke both my and Blaze’s deadly concentration. A pair of flashing violet eyes shifted between each of us, bearing both stern reprimand and fear in their gaze. “Internecine conflict between Day Watch members during an official briefing is not allowed, under chapter three, paragraph four of—”

“I believe our dear Zodiac is correct,” Octavia said, thankfully cutting her off before she could continue reciting protocol. “You’ll have to wait until we’re finished; or take it outside.”

“Oh, um... Yes, that’s what I was going to say.” the middle-aged unicorn finished sheepishly, casting a glance at Octavia.

And of course you can’t miss Zodiac Sparkle, the leader of our analysis department. She wasn’t a strong mage. Truth be told, she was rather weak; only sixth level with unclear chances to go further. But she had an incredibly sharp mind and paranormal analysis and logical abilities. Mostly thanks to her, many of our confrontations with the Light ones were resolved in our favor. There were some rumors that she had a daughter who was a Light one, and now serves in the Inquisition. Maybe it was truth, maybe not; she never told anything about her family to us.

I cast another glance towards Octavia, giving a barely perceptible nod; normally, an unproven or weak magician would be addressed by their betters using their first and their last name. Octavia, however, allowed her the respect of her first name only; I was initially surprised by this during the first few weeks I had known our little group, as it had shattered my early preconceptions that she was the typical head-in-the-clouds, condescending aristocrat type.

“No thanks, I think I’ll pass.” I shrugged, turning my expression once more into one of casual interest.

Blaze regarded me for a few more seconds, before shrugging herself. “Meh, same here.”

Octavia quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh, really? I thought you would have liked tearing a strip off Foxy.”

“It’s not worth the trouble of putting him back together.” Blaze replied simply.

Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Are you saying you’d actually deign to heal me, O great first-class mage?”

“Don’t push your luck, Foxy.” she enunciated each word with deliberate slowness, her lips peeling back into a feral smirk.

“Well... actually, she’d have to,” Zodiac cut in. “Inflicting and/or leaving injuries that may endanger one’s continued capacity to work is a very serious offense.”

“Aww, Zodie, why’d you have to tell him that?” Blaze complained, throwing her hooves out wide in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation. “I wanted him to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of the day, at least.”

Zodiac’s expression was apparently in the process of deciding between shock, guilt, anger or embarrassment. “Zo— You!... But, I— I mean... th...?”

The former wonderbolt laughed at her predicament, before giving a warm, if somewhat cheesy grin. “I’m just jokin’ with ya, Zodiac. Of course I know the rules, and... are you smiling?...”

“That’s a new level of informality if ever I saw one,” I remarked to Octavia.

“I’m surprised I didn’t think of it first,” she agreed.

“Well, you’ve still got another chance. Care to give me a nickname, perhaps?”

She looked me over up and down, before replying: “Hmm, I don’t know... Four-eyes, maybe? But that feels taken.”

“Hey.” I said sternly. “Don’t disrespect the guy with the glasses.”

Blaze, predictably, laughed uproariously and nearly fell to the floor. “Actually, I think that works pretty well for ya, man.”

“Careful, Blaze. I’d hate to find out what Octavia could come up with for y—”

“Excuse me, everypony.” a very firm and regal voice spoke out, drawing our collective attention. At the head of the table was Princess Luna herself, as the permanent since ancient times chief of the Day Watch of Canterlot. She was wearing her common royal vestments, but also had a silver-colored scarf around her neck; one of our gifts for her birthday.

She levitated a fair-sized stack of papers before her, gently straightening them out on the desk; not an easy thing to do unless you are very precise with telekinesis.

“If you’re all quite finished bickering, I would like to move this meeting along with due haste. As you all know, at the end of every month we always summarize the results and set assignments for the next period. I would like to listen to the financial report, first. Zodiac, if you please?”

“Oh— ah, yes, of course, Princess,” she stammered out, and soon a writing pad floated up to mask all but her eyes, which swerved in all three dimensions rapidly as they scanned the paper. Soon, she cleared her throat—for propriety’s sake, no doubt—and began reading aloud.

I mentally groaned in annoyance; I hated that boring financial-bookkeeping mess. But, of course, I realised that just turning rocks into bits and gems wasn’t the best alternative, even with the Princess on our side; suspicions will grow, anyway. And playing with the minds of those who will be curious enough to figure out why this was happening, could be regarded as actions in breach of the Great Contract.

The briefing proceeded. There were a wide variety of records and reports of all kinds: from monthly fluctuations of the amounts of the blood consumed by vampires, to the number of conflicts with the Light Ones.

My report mostly contained results of my street work. Usually it’s not really difficult, because the main headache on that job—young and rampant vampires who can’t properly control themselves yet—rested mostly on the Night Watch’s shoulders. It was logical to assume that such a thing was exclusively their problem, but apparently we were the only ones who thought that way. Celestia had already filed an official protest to the Inquisition, implying that we should share this pain-in-the-flank with them; ostensibly in the order of mutual respect to the Great Contract, which historically was signed to stop both sides from simply killing each other off in open conflict.

And, despite all of Luna’s efforts, the Inquisition took the side of the Night Watch and obliged us to share the responsibility for this. Which made work for many, including myself, much more difficult.

After all of that, Luna started to give us our assignments for the next month. Keeping the Light ones at bay, from causing too much ‘good’ and therefore breaking our already wobbly equipoise wasn’t the easiest task. But even in this case, you can’t find any new ways to avoid the Day Watch’s authority.

So, I would not surprise anypony by saying that it was almost the same as the previous months. Most changes were made keeping in mind our new status quo with the Light Ones. But, to my perplexity, I didn’t get any real assignments, crucial or otherwise; whereas in the previous month I was the first who had received an assignment about street work.

“That’ll be all. You folks can go; Foxy, stay here for a minute, please.”

Completely dumbfounded and catching some likewise surprised looks, I waited in Luna’s office until the last of the board members had filed out, taking in the single-minded attention of the Princess of the Night with great anxiety. Not one to show my fear, however, I remained sitting up straight and cleared my throat.

“Yes, Luna?”

The Higher One sat up and went to the window behind the main desk, stretching her wings with visible pleasure. I could understand her completely; when I had the desk job before my initiation, by the end of the day my wings went completely numb. Not to mention the rear part...

“I guess you wonder why I appointed you as faculty at the school, don’t you?”

I chuckled. Yeah, right; she guessed. Not wishing to pursue the matter, though, I simply replied:

“Yeah, it was kinda unusual to me. I assume you want to explain your intentions?”

She nodded, still not looking at me.

“You are one of the best Day Watch employees. An honorable service, steady level increases, several brilliant victories in confrontations with the Light Ones...”

Now I began to worry. When a Great Mage starts to give you compliments, you can expect only trouble. That’s how they worked, in the end; I had almost no doubts that Celestia and Luna sometimes end up hiding their own plans from themselves.

“...and so on. But it was only on the street level. Dangerous, sometimes ungrateful jobs. And despite the fact that you—usually—like it, you must also do that which the Day Watch specifically asks of you. So, you can consider your teacher’s work as your test. Which you successfully passed.”

“Great. Shall I perform a celebratory dance? Or maybe you would prefer a regular ‘Yay!’?”

She finally looked at me directly. I stared back into her big, tired eyes and once again was terrified; she was so ancient! Despite all her powers and immortality, incalculable life experience and wisdom, great responsibility as the chief of the Day Watch; she was still a living sentient being, who wanted to have some mundane sweets of life. Maybe when she’s alone, she curses herself for being a Higher One, and therefore being unable to lead a normal existence. How could I forget about that even for a second?

That thought floated through my mind before I could stop it, and with cold realization my heart skipped a beat. Quickly, I whispered:

“I’m sorry, Luna...”

She smiled a little. Of course she knew everything I thought; she can read almost anypony like an open book, without any effort. So as Celestia. No magic; only life experience.

“So... what are my new instructions?” I quickly changed the subject.

“Do you remember a town called...” she paused, ostensibly for dramatic effect, “...Ponyville?”

I gritted my teeth and nodded. Of course I remembered that town. The living dream of the Light Ones, a place with a bunch of happy idiots hopping around with a smile and organizing those infernal parades with chants. No individuality, no free-thinking, no healthy selfishness. Therefore, no freedom. The Day Watch didn’t belong in there. It was some kind of miracle that Luna had convinced the Inquisition to let them open at least a small branch with two employees.

By the way, about the Inquisition; that town was the place where their main headquarters was located. Mainly due to the fact that it was there that their trump card was, as well. The Elements of Harmony; Great Contract made material. Only when something really big happens, something that could break our wobbly equipoise, are they used.

Contrary to popular belief of the Light Ones, we have no intention to put our hooves on the Elements. We have more than enough problems as it is. Actually, to be honest; the Dark Ones are often accused of all sins. They say we want world domination, provoking everypony to commit horrible things, breeding vampires to increase the populations of the lower Dark Ones (As if we want to make more of that scum) and so on. To be fair, though, that idea has its roots mostly in young Night Watch employees; those who haven’t yet reached at least one level above their basic grade, and don’t understand that we barely have any differences with respect to each other.

We just want freedom for everypony. Without any boundaries, or bans. Pure, soilless freedom. What’s so wrong with that?

My train of thought was interrupted by Luna’s melodic voice:

“There was an inappropriate situation in the town, so we needed to do something a long time ago. Thankfully, our analysts have done their multi-series analysis and found the most likely cause. Frankly, I had my suspicions about it, but now I’m convinced completely.”

I suddenly felt a very odd, yet familiar sensation; Luna was trying to send me a chunk of memory. Half-closing my eyes, I saw discolored oily shadows begin to overlap everything within my field of vision; looking through the Twilight is a skill that every initiate learns early on, a necessity before one can access any sort of real ability. Right now, it allowed me to see information, which Luna brought up from the analysis branch: images, data, noise; everything that our mind-workers had been able to come up with.

I certainly wasn’t prepared for what she deemed as so important, however.

“...Far be it from me to doubt you, Luna, but how could a non-Other pony induce such strong emotions to the whole town? It doesn’t seem to be logical.”

She looked at me seriously. “Maybe not, but it’s the only clue we have. No other answer could even compare to this. Maybe it’s a mistake, and there are a complex of reasons... or maybe...” she trailed off with a shrug.

Now I was really scared. If a mage that level had any doubts...

“I will do whatever you want me to, Princess. You can count on my help.”

“Thank you.” she said, then gave a smile I had grown to be familiar with as the ‘Checkmate’.

“Your cover job will be as a teacher in the local school.”

I swallowed a curse, and simply nodded in response. There was no time to complain; not when we were talking about something that serious.

But it didn’t mean I didn’t have the right to ask some questions.

“But why this? I mean... the Inquisition, it seems like they approved this mission, right?”

She nodded, looking to me with interest. I continued, encouraged with her attention:

“So, if it’s legal... why do I even need a covering party?”

No sooner had I finished my question then everything clicked into place in my mind. I felt like I was beginning to understand.

She must have noted that, too, for she said:

“You need my answer, or have you figured it out yourself?”

“You want me to wriggle into favor with the townsfolk. The Light Ones have no right to intervene as long as our actions are within the law, so all I need to do is... earn the town’s inhabitants and, mostly, this ‘Pinkie Pie’s trust, in order to learn what is happening in there. And being an elementary school teacher, therefore working with kids; it’s the best way to convince ponies of your innocuity and reliability. Plus we can’t be sure how the magic of the Others will affect Pinkie, so it’s also the safest option. Very clever, I must admit.”

I caught the barest hint of a smirk tugging at Luna’s lips. “You’ve caught on almost everything. Except one little detail; the last question you still want to ask. Ask away.”

“...What happens to the previous teacher?”

“Just a fourth-level magic impact. Cheerilee—that’s her name—will be in hospital for a while. And, of course, who else could she recommend to replace her, if not you; the brilliant teacher with a huge natural talent?”

I smiled thinly. “Makes sense.”

She leaned closer to me and said quietly:

“Foxy... this is the most important mission you’ve ever had. Good luck.”

~[* .*. *]~

I walked down the sunlit streets of Canterlot, carrying my luggage that I had carefully collected the past evening. I know, many ponies pack in a terrible rush in the mornings when they need to leave, but I prefer more a more systematic and thoughtful process.. Besides... my business was too important to be treated so light-mindedly.

It was only early morning, so not many inhabitants of Canterlot could be seen around me. Just rare figures of ponies, heading mostly into the same direction as I. No need to look into the Twilight to tell that they were going for train travel, too.

I finally arrived at the station. The almost-deserted streets were immediately forgotten, since I saw the crowds waiting for their trains, heading down from it or maybe just simply went to watch how the transport system is working. Everypony has their own preferences, in the end.

I adjusted my saddlebags and began marching towards the train landing, where a crisply-dressed stallion was checking out each ponies’ ticket in turn.

Just a simple train, or something more... symbolic? I couldn’t decide which thought to connect with my vision as I stared ahead, a weary sigh escaping my lips. Finally, I simply resolved to putting one hoof in front of the other like an automaton off to do its work.

“But... but Daddy, w-why do you have to leave again so soon...?”

Thoughts of the previous day echoed in my mind. I didn’t want to leave; least of all at the very crack of dawn, barely able to give a proper farewell.

I knew it would happen, however; I knew it simply couldn’t last. That moment of reunion, like so many others, burned brighter than the sun to banish away my worldly cares; alas, the eternal call of duty, roped in with the dual blessing and curse of my powers, uncaringly smothered it as it had so many times before.

I glanced up from the street to the train once more, taking in the other ponies waiting eagerly in line to board. They came in every flavor, from the typical business-looking types to the more easygoing, vacationer ponies. The last, I noticed, included a small yet smiling group with the typical arrangement of mare, stallion and smiling, laughing foals—

I froze.

That sound was so familiar to me, though now it only brought feelings of pain and regret. I quickly tried to tune it out, but it was too late; I cringed as a lone tear betrayed me, breaking my carefully-guarded stern countenance as it left a stinging trail in its passing.

“Don’t you see what this is doing to him...? To us...?”

I could see. I felt it all too well. But I couldn’t have asked Luna for more time, or requested anypony else... she had to have known about all of this from the start, and she still picked me; there had to be a reason, a concrete truth that I was the only one able to act.

I finally managed to get my emotions under control, locking them deep within. I shut my eyes, willing away the images of what might have been. I detached myself from the world, and I was finally able to continue taking steps forward.

But I couldn’t banish away this... emptiness. I felt incomplete, and any attempts to bury the pain was like shoveling dirt into a bottomless pit.

Sometimes, I wondered if I was no better than the most common of Dark ones; to only take such action as necessary to preserve my own life and security, and only care about anything different as long as it was convenient. After that...

“But... *sniff* but you said you were gonna teach me how to fly...!”

...I could simply discard it as if it had never truly mattered, and discharge my duty with the utter, rote monotony of a machine.

“What do you mean, you can’t refuse? Surely, there are others who can...”

Was it my fault...? Maybe, I could have chosen a different path... maybe I could have avoided coming to this point...

“I just... I can’t, Foxy... not like this. You keep putting yourself in danger, and...”

Duty. That was one of the only universal constants I had in my life. Maybe I could have stopped; maybe I could have changed things, or how they played out in the end. But I could never forget, never shirk my greater responsibility... my higher task, of a Watchman.

“I understand. I... I always understood... but, I... Foxy. Before you do this, I just want you to promise me something. Promise me...”

“Sir?” I glanced up at the voice, regarding the curious stare of the landing official. “Your ticket, please?

I inclined my head in response, fishing the nondescript paper stub out of my bags. I stared at it for a moment in silent contemplation, before finally shrugging and giving it to the stallion who promptly scribbled something on a writing pad and nodded to me.

“Everything seems to be in order, sir. Enjoy your ride.”

My legs moved forward once more, seemingly of their own accord, carrying me onto the padded floor of the main train car. I looked around gormlessly at the inviting chairs; the plush, brightly colored upholstery; and the arched ceiling, gilded lines and filigree running along its surface from end to end.

All around were the sounds of eager conversation, of laughter and good-natured ribbing between a quartet of what looked to be young musicians.

Everywhere, nothing but excitement at the prospect of visiting a new town, going to see old friends, or simply ecstatic at the idea of riding on a train for the very first time.

And one lone, dark-blue pegasus with a pair of thick-rimmed square glasses, sitting on a bench and staring listlessly out the window, towards something only he could see.

“Allllll aboarrrrrd!!” the booming voice of the train conductor called out. “Next stop, Ponyville!”