The Path of Lore and Kings

by PassionQuill

Old Acquaintances

Chapter 10: Old Acquaintances

A loud crowd of ponies streamed out of the Canterlot Express as it had finally arrived at Canterlot’s Central Station. Loré and Namworth were however not part of this solid ocean pouring out onto the platform. They had stayed back, waiting comfortably in their private area of the train till it was less crowded outside.

“Can we leave now, Loré?” asked Namworth, eagerly eyeing the tantalizing sights of the impressive city that stood alluringly right outside the train.

“Just give it one more minute,” mumbled Loré in return, staring indifferently out the window like she had been doing for most of the trip.

Namworth sat on the floor facing the door, just waiting for Loré to give the green light. Morning had turned into evening during their trip and Loré had yet to divulge her plan for seizing the magical item from the vault. A decision had to be made soon. There were too many variables no matter what Loré thought up, too many problems for her to flesh out a coherent enough plan for everything to work. Loré had to figure out a perfect method to not just sneak into the castle, but also get into the vault. She didn’t have enough intimate knowledge of the east wing, but she did know somepony who did.

“Maybe we could get in through… no. Maybe we could… no that won’t work either…” Loré sighed in deep frustration. She knew she had to pay him a visit. He was the only pony she could ‘trust’ with a job like this.

“I can’t believe I actually have to see him again…” growled Loré to herself as she pushed off of her seat.

“See who again?” Namworth turned his head towards Loré as he asked. “Is it the acquaintance you mentioned earlier today? Is he really somepony who can help us get the magical thingy?”

“Yes, we’re going to have to pay a visit to an acquaintance of mine. He’s specialized in more questionable jobs.” Loré squeezed past Namworth to open the door and lead the way out of the train.

Even though the two of them had waited a good while for things to die down, the platform was still as busy as ever. This was just how Canterlot was near the very center. Many ponies arrived each day for either tourism or to try making it big in the capital city. It was a place where dreams were either forged into reality or crushed into the dust. There was almost always something to see and do, meaning many ponies were up and about at all hours of the day.

Namworth made it his priority to stick close to Loré as they waded through the blobs of ponies. “Could you tell me where we’re going, Loré?” asked Namworth. “Or maybe a thing or two about this pony we are seeing. I mean, can we really trust him with this kind of job?”

“We’re heading towards a small place called ‘The Thirst Cello’,” sighed Loré while glancing back at Namworth for a second. “It’s a jazz bar in the Moonlight District. It’s a little area of Canterlot where most of the nightlife thrives. Although I haven’t seen this stallion for several years, I know I can definitely find him at his favorite hangout spot. Whether or not we can trust him is a completely different matter that I don’t think I’m qualified to answer.”

“Erhm… would it be too much to ask how you met him?” Namworth pushed his way through the crowd till he was able to walk side by side with Loré.

“Yes, it would.” Loré’s face contorted with anger. “Maybe I’ll tell you the story another time. All you need to know is I met him some ten years ago during my first research project out in the field. He is a pony of many trades, and breaking into a castle is precisely the kind of thing he’s good at.” She locked eyes with Namworth as she added, “But I’ll never trust him on anything. I just hope he can get us in. Whatever happens after we’re inside the vault, that’s uncertain to me.”

“Oh, okay.” Namworth’s ears fell a bit low and he couldn’t help but worry a bit about whatever had happened between Loré and the untrusted acquaintance of hers. Though, as much as he wondered what would happen in his near future, the sight of the city itself was breathtaking to him.

The tall eloquent unicornian architecture was something very unique. The city was as colorful and bright as the radiant sun that was controlled from this place. The pavement had more attention to detail in the carvings of each of the individual stones than what he was used to seeing in houses from most villages throughout Equestria. It was truly the place to be for anypony who wanted to be part of the elite. But as beautifully vibrant and as vivid as the ponies of the place were, it was also very noticeably expensive to live there. Every price tag on items in the windows of stores they passed by were that of a minor fortune to Namworth.

Their walk took them through a good chunk of Canterlot. Namworth had a chance to gleefully look around at the center of the city. He was able to experience the powerful atmosphere of the always busy Mode Avenue where fashion was constantly being redefined every single day and night. Even if Loré was trotting past these areas, and doing so with urgency in her step, it was still a sight unlike anything Namworth had experienced.

“Canterlot is really pretty! It seems like there is always something going on in this city,” chirped Namworth while turning his head from side to side as he took in the random observations he made from their walk.

Loré didn’t feel like humoring his excitement for a place she had been to so many times that she could consider it her secondary home. All she cared about was getting their little visit over with, but she knew it would be drawn out for sure. Every step she took towards the Moonlight District was a reluctant one, but she overcame it by constantly reminding herself it had to be done.

The two of them turned onto the first of three different streets which made up the Moonlight District. Their eyes were instantly bombarded with flashy neon signs dangling from the walls of clubs, bars, and restaurants which took up the majority of what was on the street. There were a few stores scattered here and there, but the bulk was catered towards the nightlife for sure. Ponies stood outside most of the places, setting up a few things in preparation for the night to come. They were doing things such as setting tables for the restaurants, putting up velvet fencing for the clubs, and in general cleaning up the area outside their establishments. There were only a few more hours till nightfall came, and they were all going to be ready to service anypony wishing to indulge in the sweet nuances of the night.

It didn’t take long for them to discover the quaint little watering-hole residing between clashing shades of amber red and ash brown. “The Thirsty Cello” was written in big bold italic letters above the pale-black French doors, proudly displaying decades of wear and tear as they told the everlasting tale of either historical pride or financial problems. The lively back and forth between jazz musicians seeped out from every crack in the building, dictating back the memories of the very first time Loré was brought to this place.

The door creaked discretely as Loré pushed it open, showing them a view as unequally changed as the exterior itself. Low hanging chandeliers populated the ceiling, bathing the room in their golden glory. Every chair and table had its sleek pitch-black décor washed away from continuous use till only their bones showed. Even the stage had kept the pearly white floorboards that Loré remembered, though they had lost as much hue as the rest of the place. A trio of earth ponies stood dead center in the spotlight, showing no care for the non-existing crowd as they enveloped themselves in each other’s company, swaying and swinging around with a contrabass, trumpet, and drum kit.

Loré leisurely went down the initial stairs near the entrance as if she was a regular, ignoring the fact that all the chairs were on the tables, indicating the place still had yet to open. She didn’t care about the stare she received from the pegasus behind the bar or what the performers might have said if they weren’t too busy with their passion. Loré had her eyes locked on a single patron lurking furthest away from the entrance of the building. A for-once lonely unicorn who swirled and slushed down the bitter liquid burning his throat.

“Is this the place? Is that pony over there the guy, Loré? Is he really going to help us?” asked Namworth. Though somewhere among the jazzy music, Loré’s focus, and Namworth’s timid speech, the questions he had asked were all but answered by the time they reached the table.

“It’s been ten-something odd years, hasn’t it, Charlatan,” grumbled Loré.

The bewildered stare from the green unicorn quickly shaped into gleeful surprise as he laid his heavy eyes on Loré. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my long lost buddy-bud, Grumpy!” His disheveled brown mane barely did anything to hide the intoxicated slant of his eyes. “Come, come, have a seat so we can catch up. You have to tell me what’s new.” The chair on the opposite side of his table scooted backwards as Loré approached it.

Time had been kinder to Charlatan than Loré. While Loré distinctively showed the first signs of aging out of her youth, Charlatan on the other hoof was a spitting image of himself from the time they had met. He still wore the same fancy off-color black blazers with red puffing near the neck. His smile was still enchanting and his words more slippery than oiled snakes, even when drinking.

“I’m surprised, Charlie. Here I was expecting to see you with a mare under each of your forelegs.” The words tasted bitter in Loré’s mouth. They weren’t what she really wanted to say. With every second she spent in Charlatan’s company, more and more memories from the time they shared together resurfaced. Getting even was on the forefront of her mind, but deep down she knew she needed him and his talents. There wasn’t a mixture of know-how, confidence, and disinterest in blabbing quite like Charlatan’s. He was their only choice for a task this important.

“The night is young, Grumpy!” He laughed loudly before chucking back another gulp of liquor. “Opportunity waits right around every corner. All you and I have to do, is reach out and grab it.” His intoxication further showed through wobbly posture and off-set wink at Loré after dropping his self-viewed slice of wisdom. “Could it be that Grumpy came to this little corner of Canterlot just to see little ol’ me?”

“Would you please stop calling me Grumpy! My name is Loré Scroll. Pick either one and stick with it,” Snarled Loré before taking a deep breath calm herself down again.

“Can we just cut out the pleasantries, Charlatan. I’ve come a long way to get to this forsaken dump you still linger in, for a reason, and it wasn’t to see you.” Loré’s speech was all growls and grumbles as she berated Charlatan, but nothing about it carried any significance to him. A smile of contemplative crocodile teeth lined his mouth and bore as much sharpness to them as the glimpse in his eyes.

“Loré, my dear Loré, I must say I’m terribly hurt.” As if in tune with the music, Charlatan leaned across the table to rope in Loré’s foreleg in a tender grip. His eyes fixed to hers as they shimmered like blue sapphires. “For all that happened between us, bad blood was the last thing I expected from you. Sweetheart, I see the same fiery passion emanates from every fiber of your body, just like the time when we met.” The very tone and rhythm he used felt like that of a slow dance. It was systematically charming, and deliberately designed to lure Loré into a false sense of comfort.

“I’ve always admired this passion in you, Loré. Now, how about you and I take a little trip back to my place.” His eyes brimmed with compassion and his voice was as soothing to the ears as honey was to the throat. Though, behind those come-hither eyes and the smile of a true friend hid his true intentions.

“I said drop the act!” growled Loré as she hammered both fronthooves into the table. “You can’t be trusted, you can’t even have an honest moment with anypony around you. But what you can do, is lie, deceit, and break in where nopony is allowed.” Loré’s words evoked a much more desirable expression in Charlatan. His playful and sultry demeanor faded into a slightly sterner one.

“You might need me, sweetheart. But, I can’t say I need anypony like you. We had a nice little run back then, but times changed, I’ve changed.” With his head resting comfortably on a hoof, he smiled cockily at Loré. “You could even say I’ve mended my ways. What would honestly be in it for me if I did agree to help you with a task that you’ve yet to actually tell me about?”

“You owe me big time!” snarled Loré while leaning halfway across the table. “You stole my very first major finding, abandoned me out in nowhere! You…” Every muscle in Loré’s body burned and ached from the tension of holding them in check so she wouldn’t fly across the table and give Charlatan the beating he deserved.

“I’m doing my very best to be civil here… Show some damn decency for once in your hollow existence. You know you owe me for everything. The least you can do is help me with this one task.”

His constant flaunting of his upper hoof on Loré was for once put aside as he reluctantly agreed to behave through something as discrete as lackluster smile and faint nod.

“We need help breaking into a certain vault inside the castle. It’s the vault of confiscated magical artifacts in the east wing,” said Loré in the same deadpan way as if she had simply asked the stallion for something as commonplace as a glass of water.

“We? I hope you aren’t referring to me and you as a ‘we’. I haven’t even accepted this strange job offer after all.” With a newly freed hoof he shook his half-empty glass around and chuckled heartily. “Could it be that Grumpy’s found herself somepony special. Could it be that…” From behind Loré appeared the bright red bow of Namworth, having stood quietly in her shadow while the two of them argued led Charlatan to initially perceive Loré as being there on her own. “My, oh my, who do we have here?”

Loré’s right eye-twitch had once again returned, now acting up worse than ever as she watched Charlatan slink out of his chair after having been once again distracted by something. Despite her growing annoyance, Loré reacted fast as she covered up Namworth’s mouth before he could even utter a word in response to Charlatan’s question.

“By Luna, it seems Grumpy’s found somepony stranger than herself as a companion. Though, might I add how enchanting you look, miss,” said Charlatan while performing a graceful bow accompanied by kissing Namworth’s right front hoof. “I must admit, I never took you for this type, Grumpy. Though, it would explain an awful lot of things.”

The confused stallion, whose mouth was still fully apprehended by Loré, leaving him with no other choice than to scream for help with his eyes. The pleading headshake and attempts to pull his hoof back had no effect on Loré. She had no intention of rectifying this misunderstanding. No, she wanted to have a little fun with it, and perhaps it would make him actually listen to what she had to say for once in his life.

“Why yes, this is actually my very lovely assistant, Nammy. She’s been travelling with me for quite some time now. Don’t be put off by her extremely shy nature and lack of speaking. She is quite the catch.” A great strain was placed on Loré’s last nerve as she refrained from commenting on his last jab at her. Instead of lashing out, a most sinister grin appeared on Loré’s face as she kept up the act. Every further action she took gently nurtured her diabolical smile into something even more unsettling. Though, Charlatan was far too taken by one of his biggest weaknesses; mareizing.

“Well, let me re-introduce myself, mademoiselle. The name is Charlatan, an acquirer of exquisite goods, procurer of rarities, and self-made gentlecolt, at your service.” He performed one more bow, but this time used the upward motion to pull himself closer to Namworth, finding himself at an equal match once gazing into each other’s eyes. His hypnotizing dreamy eyes and the oblivious doe-eyes of the mistakenly feminine stallion cancelled each other out and left only an awkward tension between the two.

For however awkward it was, Charlatan didn’t let it slow him down. There was yet to be a single mare who had what it took to slow him down once he got rolling with his ‘moves’. Even with his peepers neutralized, his slick voice and body language could make up for any aspect of his method falling through. A slight tantalizing touch on Namworth’s side, a soft whisper in a charming accent, and an unparalleled confidence had its advantages when engaging in the act of courtship, even if it was designed to be used on a mare.

Their increasingly tender closure was meticulously dismantled by Loré as she in likewise fashion to Charlatan, slinked down from her chair and between the two of them. “Well, I believe that is enough fun for you, Charlie. My assistant, Namworth, is not a mare. So how about we start talking business now instead?” The pleasure Loré took in bursting Charlatan’s bubble was clearly expressed through the malevolent inflection her smile, along with the disturbing joy in her eyes.

Despite Charlatan’s best efforts to hide his reaction to the epiphany of Namworth’s true gender, the almost vacant stare and several seconds of unresponsiveness gave away his actual mental state. Charlatan cleared his throat before slowly withdrawing from his spot in front of Namworth, overtly pronouncing his words in an exemplarily dignified way to mask his contempt. “I can see how the tables have turned, Grumpy. I apologize for my comment about what you’d prefer in a pony, and well played.” His tone had grown as somber as his eyes when admitting defeat.

It was first when Charlatan sat down on his chair that Loré could properly detect an actual window for a serious conversation with him. Instilling a contemplative demeanor in him, along with a drink in hoof, and extinguishing the prospect of conquest was all it took to get him to listen. Though, when his interest was actually captured it was indivisible.

“I’m not going to trust you with all the facts about our journey, Charlie. Why we are doing this is none of your business. All you need to know is the basics.” Loré made sure to keep things short and direct, never breaking eye contact with him now that he had given her his full attention. “From all I’ve heard about the castle, it’s said there’s a ‘vault’ of confiscated magical artifacts somewhere in the eastern wing. Though, I have no idea where it’s located in the east wing, nor do I fully know how to get inside the vault… or into the castle for that matter.”

“I thought you worked for the hob-nobs of Canterlot. Why can’t you just walk inside through the front gate and I don’t know, make your friend there seduce a guard so you can gain access to the vault?” asked Charlatan with a raised brow and suspicious stare, once again resting his head in his hoof.

Loré sighed with deep frustration, “It’s none of your concern. Just treat us as if we were criminals who’d get thrown to jail if spotted inside the castle. We need to get in, grab something powerful, and then get out without anypony noticing we were there.”

“Is that really all you need?” yawned Charlatan. “Getting inside the castle is very easy. I would have thought a historian like you would have an inklink about the architecture of the place.” From unparalleled boredom he descended into a condescending tone as he explained while keeping his eyes closed. “The Canterlot Castle was, although designed by Celestia, made with Luna in mind. It still contains a great deal of hidden rooms and tunnels. They were most likely made to honor the memory of her younger sister before she was banished to the moon. To get inside is just a matter of finding the right tunnel.”

“I’m a historian! I read about important matters, not silly building quirks. I’ve explored and strung together the fabrics of our past, and given deeper understanding to what has led us to this moment in our society. To indicate I’ve had time to study something was redundant as Celestia’s sentiments towards her sister is beyond apprehendable.” Loré scowled and shivered as she dismissed Charlatan’s insult.

Charlatan patiently waited for Loré’s outburst to end before continuing as if nothing had been said. “Getting inside the vault is much harder to do. I’m fairly good with magic, but not good enough to break through the kind of magical seal placed on the vault.” One eye crept open just so he could observe Loré’s reaction as he added, “I also really doubt you have the necessary talent to do anything to the vault, which is why we need an actual plan to get inside.”

“That’s why I came to you! I know from personal experience that you know a thing or two about stealing things from secure locations. So, figure out how we can get into the vault!” It was clear from her gritted teeth and wide eyed stare that Charlatan knew precisely how to push her buttons, and he did it so eloquently without a single shred of care for what she would say or do to him.

“Do not fret my dear. I’m certain I can get inside the vault. But, I will need a day or two to figure out how.” Charlatan pushed his chair away from the table as he turned to get down. “Breaking in tonight would not be possible. Well, at least not quietly.”

“No, it has to be tonight!” Loré emphasized her loud claim with slamming the table once again. There was an equal amount of confusion between the two stallions as they collectively stared at her before Namworth slowly placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“Loré, why does it have to be tonight? Can’t we just wait a day or two for your fri- acquaintance to figure out how to do it?”

“I… I don’t know.” Loré’s tension slowly loosened while she sat back into her chair. Though it was hard to admit for her, there was a certain urgency to retrieving Sombra’s lost powers. His words would never stop resonating in her mind. She was replaceable. He had time to wait for another suitable heir to take her place. Any one of her siblings could have gotten foals in the last decade or so for all that she knew. “I just, I just need to do this tonight, Namworth. Waiting around will only lead to disaster for me… I can just feel it.”

The defeated inflection in Loré’s eyes was something he had yet to see in her. The mere thought of losing out on this opportunity seemed more than sufficient to break her spirit. Namworth sighed deeply, and though reluctantly, he would place his trust in Loré. “Okay… as your friend I’ll trust you on this one, Loré.”

“Thank you, Namworth,” mumbled Loré, still feeling rather uncomfortable with anypony calling her a friend and then not correcting them on how wrong that label would be for somepony like her. “Do you think you can do it for us, tonight, Charlie?”

Charlatan stood tentatively in place as his gaze traveled back and forth between Loré and Namworth, weighing down his options for actually making a successful plan within such a narrow timeframe. After a minute of jazz-filled silence, he finally sighed deeply before mumbling. “Fine, I’ll pull some strings, get all my intel, and do my best to get a plan ready by tonight. You can consider us fully even after this one, Grumpy. I think you might owe me something when all of this is said and done.”

Comments

[NobleValor]

Should have guessed the red bow would be a bad choice.