Steadfast Minds

by GardenOfSilver

The Case

She found herself feeling distinctly itchy, she always itched when some part of her brain told her something was going on but hadn’t felt like telling the rest of her what it was. The small boat slowly steamed across dark midnight waters into the small harbour, picking it’s way in between a smattering of rowboats, small kelp fishers, and one or two small cargo skiffs much like the one whose sides she was leaning over.

The harbour itself was all granite blocks in a rough horseshoe shape facing the sea, with ramshackle wooden docks and jetties cutting through the dark waters under a sullen, cloud-laden sky. Squat two-story buildings with thick granite walls and clad with steep slate roofs stood tightly packed along it’s length, the odd lantern casting both a warm light and dancing shadows amongst them. The roofs cut a dark silhouette against the swamps, lit up with it’s own pale green luminescence.

It looked like it could have been taken straight out of an horror story, or perhaps one of her own beloved noir detective books.

The itch had clung to her since he had given her this case...

* * * * *

It had been a late Friday night and the sky had been heavy with yet to be unleashed rain from one of the many autumn storms the weather teams had scheduled for autumn. She had more or less given up on finding anything to do at all, ever. It had been well over two weeks since anypony had walked through the small door on the third floor that bore the writing of ‘Bright Eyes, Private Detective’.

Groaning she poured herself another shot of whiskey and gave the bills on her desk her best dirty look, the kind that set criminals knees all a-knocking in fear. Ot at least she hoped it would, she’d only ever gotten to use it on an lost cat she’d tracked clear across Manehattan. She’d spent several hours bandaging her face from that encounter.

Yeah, life’s just swimming, she thought with a sigh.

Just as she was about to call it a night, the door creaked open and a stallion stepped inside. That made her sit up ramrod straight. It was The Stallion, capitalization and everything. He was an unicorn like herself, standing just a few inches taller and with a snowy white coat. His two-tone red mane was styled in a fashion that she could describe as ‘dashing’, just barely falling over deep green eyes. A very reserved smile played across his face, hinting at an beautiful smile just below the surface. The smell of his cologne wafted into her nose, the scent heady and unplaceable.

“Miss Eyes? May I come in?” he asked, his voice as smooth and dark as chocolate, making her insides go all wibbly-wobbly and gooey.

Sweet Celestia, was he for real?

“Oh sure, most certainly,” she threw a quick glance around her office, more so in an attempt to hide her blush than to make sure it was alright. As she did she caught herself in the mirror, nervously smoothing her black and neon-yellow striped mane. Her face was obviously several shades redder than it’s normal cream colour. ‘Buck it’, she thought for herself before turning back to the stallion. “Um, care for some whiskey?”

“No thank you, Miss Eyes. May I have a glass of water instead?” He took a seat across the desk from her, sitting up straight and folding his forehooves in his lap. The spitting image of a true gentlestallion.

“Water, um, certainly.” Quick, clean glass. She spotted one sitting ontop of her sole filing cabinet next to a small stack of well-read Sherlock Hooves novels and grasped it with her levitation, floating it over to the watercooler. She never truly used either of the two pieces of furnishing, they were simply there to give the authentic “Private Detective” impression. She floated the glass onto the desk before him.

“So, what can I do for you, mister..?”

“Sir, actually. My name is Regal Script,” he flashed her a gentle smile and took a sip of water, “and I was lead to believe you were quite adept at finding things, yes?”

“Yeah, I am pretty good at that, what’cha need found?” Drat, she’d done nothing but find missing things since she’d started all those months back. She did her best not to let her face fall, she didn’t quite manage.

“Actually, Miss Eyes, it is not as much what I need to find. It is who.”

What, really?

“Oh! Right, right, give me a moment here, I need my notepad,” Bright Eyes barely could contain her enthusiasm. A missing pony case! It was, well, this was what she’d gotten into the business for! Smiling she telekinetically fished through the pockets of her coat by the door. There it was. Levitating it over she took a moment to enjoy the design emblazoned on the front of it, a neon yellow eye on a golden sunburst, her cutie mark, and flicked it open. “Right then, Sir Script. Let me just clear a few things up here. Missing ponies, two hundred fifty bits plus business expenses, paid out when found. I’d say it takes about a month trying to find somepony that’s gone missing in Manehattan. Now, who am I looking for? Name, gender, colouration, cutie mark? Significant others, th-”

Regal Script gave her another soft smile, rising a hoof to silence her.

“I’m afraid Miss Eyes, that I am not asking you to find a typical missing pony. Nor is it Manehattan. I trust you are familiar with the Mossmire? Within lies a town named Steadfast, that is where she went missing, and that is where we wish for you to search. We need to find her swiftly and are willing to pay twice your fee, as well as paying a fifty bit daily retainer.”

Bright Eyes felt stunned, there was a town in the Mossmire? The place is downright sinister, and while it’s reputation certainly did not rival that of the Everfree Forest it is still downright dark. And how many bits?! She could live on that for several months, it sounded almost too good to be true. Some rational part of her mind told her it most likely was, nopony paid that kind of money for real. In the books they did, some wealthy business stallion trying to get a hold of a mysteriously disappeared wife or the like. He said her, didn’t he? The thought sent her heart falling to the pit of her stomach, there was no way he wasn’t married.

“So, you want me to find your wi-”

“Oh, no, no,” he shook his head and Bright Eyes heart leapt right back into her throat. Yes! “Her name is Sodium Fizz, she is an pegasus pony. Dark grey coat and purple mane, both rather lackluster. Her cutie mark is a vial with a trio of bubbles, she’s a rather potent alchemist. And unf-”

“Wait, what? An alchemist? I thought only unicorns and zebras did that.”

“Oh no, Miss Eyes,” Regal Script chuckled, she couldn’t help but feel silly. “Both pegasi and earth ponies have traditionally used alchemy, though the practice have mostly died out amongst ponies in general what with the ready availability of unicorn magic.”

“So... why with the unicorn alchemy then?” She cocked an eyebrow at him quizzically.

“Because, I believe, that it makes for a most interesting story, Miss Eyes. Many a mad scientist portrayed in literature are alchemists and unicorns both.” He smiled at her kindly and she felt herself flush. “Now, may I finish?”

“Certainly, go right ahead.”

“As I was saying, she is rather a potent alchemist in her own right. And unfortunately she is not of sound mind and might be a danger to the town.”

“What?” That got her a calm stare, it’s message clear. He didn’t like being interrupted, her heart dropped like a rock once more. “Sorry, Sir. Continue.”

“Gladly,” he gave her a warm half-smile that sent her heart lurched upwards again. “Let me tell you how this came to be. A few months ago our local alchemist, Silver Cauldron, heard of her and sent her an invitation to study the flora of the Mossmire. All seemed well, for awhile at least. As the weeks passed Sodium Fizz became... erratic,” he sighed, “and skittish. We were worried of her well being and tried to offer her help. A few days ago, a hour or so before our evening meal up at the manor where she was staying she...”

Regal Script fell silent, an expression of resigned sorrow on his face. She couldn’t help but to reach across the desk, placing an comforting hoof on his shoulder, earning herself a grateful smile. “If it’s hard just, well, take your time, Sir.”

“Thank you, but, there is no need,” he gave her a soft smile before squaring his shoulder. Still, he looked almost... fragile. “That evening, we heard rather a ruckus up in Mister Cauldron’s laboratory. When we rushed to investigate we found that Miss Fizz had struck him to the ground, raving on about how he had ‘been drugging her’ and ‘controlling her mind’. Mister Cauldron, mostly dazed, called out for us as we appeared and alerted her to our presence. She swiftly turned her ire upon us and when we tried to calm her down Miss Fizz bolted for it.”

He sighed loudly. “First we were not sure what had happened, both Miss Fizz and Mister Cauldron had gotten along splendidly during her stay with us. I could have sworn there were even a few romantic overtures between the two, despite the almost disgraceful age difference between the two. You see, Mister Cauldron is getting on in the years a tad bit.

“We were worried for her, obviously, though it became worse after that. A few days or so later Miss Fizz made an appearance in town, yelling at the townsponies about mind control serums and evil plots. It was most unsettling. When she tried to pour some form of alchemical concoction into the town well the guard had to step in and she fled into the swamp, disappearing once again.”

“Whoa, that does sound rather extreme.”

Bright Eyes cringed as the unicorn stallion sighed loudly and nodded. “Indeed, we found out later that Miss Fizz has a history of... delusion. Plus, there is several records of her suffering from acute anxiety and panic attacks, there are at least two on record here in Manehattan. Her current brush with mental illness seems far more severe though.

“What we are hoping, Miss Eyes, is that you can help us locate our missing pegasus so she can receive proper treatment and be helped back on the path of mental health. And to do so before things truly get out of hoof and she, in her delusion, brings ruin to our town, or act out any of the threats issued to me, Mister Cauldron and or colleagues.”

He put a hoof forward, giving her a hopeful smile. “Can we count on your help to protect our town, Miss Eyes, and stop a poor mare before her lack of mental equilibrium makes her do something she will regret for the rest of her life?”

Bright Eyes was feeling dizzy. Her, saving somepony? Saving a whole town? He had asked her to do that. Him. The Stallion. It was like something out of the countless detective stories she’d buried her muzzle in.

“Yes, I’ll help,” she squeaked, reaching out and shaking his hoof.

“Then I thank you, Miss Eyes, from the depth of my heart,” he gave her a warm smile and she could practically feel her insides melt. “Would you be able travel tomorrow? Time is of the essence after all, Miss Eyes.”

She nodded mutely as he stood and headed for the door.

“Splendid. There happens to be an boat in the harbour, one from Steadfast, named the Wavecrest, she sets sail on the morning tide. I will arrange for you to get a cabin onboard for the duration of the trip, I hope to see you there, Miss Eyes. Until then, goodbye.” He gave her another smile.

“Goodbye,” she squeaked. He’d already disappeared through the door, leaving behind an slowly dissipating, heady musk. Slumping back in her seat she sighed loudly before grabbing the shot of whiskey and downing it in one fell swoop, another following a few moments afterwards. Her legs began to feel a lot less like jelly after a few minutes and her hindquarters didn’t burn any longer. That was good.

Staggering up from her seat she reached for her coat and fedora. Getting up early in the morning, she’d need to get some shuteye now. Besides Highlight was such a scatterbrain, she most likely would have to tell her roommate she’d be going out of town for a while half a dozen times.

Her right ear itched the whole way home, no matter how much she scratched it didn’t go away.

Comments

[Ender Roarke]

I love detective novels, and I've found that only the smartest of detectives ask "why me?" Then again, the really desperate ones go for it anyway.
Hey, author, you've got a good thing started here. Don't let the lack of reception get you down.