A scoundrel, but not a thief! Nova kept repeating to himself in his mind, striding down the streets of Canterlot that late evening. "Striding" is putting it loosely. He was practically running, many times did he scrape by another pony, barely managing to avoid any and all potential impacts.
Nova frightened himself. True, he felt empowered still, to the degree that it was worth, but he felt stronger still about the prospect of his subconscious playing little games of deception on him, as if he, without realizing it, followed step by step into his sensuality blindly, without regard for others. Whenever that little voice commanded him to go back, back to that beast, to impulsively squander the last thousand-bit platinum coin, he nearly had a fit; many times he wished to bash his head against something hard. "I don't deserve it; a dog deserves better than me!" All this flew like a whirlwind through his head.
And just where was he going? But of course: "To my brother, Scepter Tale. He's still in Canterlot!" Why Nova wished to see his brother, he could not say, or rather he could not express in words, try as he might.
To note in passing, this Scepter Tale was a particularly interesting unicorn, remarkably learned in his own right, well known in Canterlot's university; he was conscientious and reserved, a pony who knew his place in society, the type to comprehend the psychology of his colleagues and explain to them his true feelings without ever pressing any buttons. On top of that, Scepter never truly took offence to anything himself, and his understanding of subtle politeness was rarely recognized, not that he complained. He was independent and by no means despondent, and in general he tried to maintain as many connections as he could, both for his own sake and for everypony else's. Everypony who got to know him ended up liking him.
Perhaps one or more of these characteristics can explain Nova's decision.
But a different thought took shape in Nova, thinking of his brother: he ran down the lane, making a long detour around his brother's house, ran along the street, then ran across the bridge, and came straight to a solitary back lane, empty and uninhabited, surrounded by a strong wooden fence. He wanted to enter through the backdoor, for the absolute sake of it. Or maybe not. Again: he could not say why, but Nova's whole Being willed into him a new pattern of action, one to deviate from the ordinary and expected action of knocking on the front door; it was as though an almost superstitious dread gripped him. He needed to do things differently, if only to ensure the best outcome possible—whatever "best" meant to him in that moment.
He knocked on the door, as quickly as he dared, waited five seconds, which felt like five hours, and he impatiently knocked again, harder this time. He waited for another thirty seconds, but his heart was pounding terribly, and he felt at moments as if he were suffocating.
"Hold up, hold up!" his brother's voice rang out. Something clinked and unlocked from behind, something in the door shuffled a bit, and it swung open.
"Scepter, how has it been? I am finally here!" Nova, with no attempt to conceal his intense animation, said all but aloud.
"What the—! Nova?" exclaimed Scepter, mildly alarmed. "Why in Equestria are you behind my house? You know there's a front door, right?"
"Yes, yes, but never mind the trifles, let me in—quickly, quickly!" Nova pressed, as though there was no time to waste.
"Whoa—are you raving? Calm down," said Scepter, allowing his brother to enter, but nevertheless watching him with uneasy curiosity. They went to the living room.
"So," said Nova quickly, "I need to write a letter, a good one, and I will need to borrow some money. I will be leaving Canterlot tonight."
Scepter grew more and more surprised. He just finished with his studies for the day, and he had gotten ready to head off to a coffee shop for a game of billiards, when Nova caught him a minute before going out. But he decided to not say anything, namely because he sensed that his brother was in great need, which was far more important, to his judgement, than a cup of modified caffeine and billiards.
"So you need... money?" said Scepter again, stressing each word. "I thought you were busy with something else, or that's what you told me. Look, what about those ledger accounts you promised to help me close?"
"Well, did I not fulfill it?"
"You handled only half of your share. There's still the other half to take care of, which has been bugging the folks over at the bank for the past week; in fact, they're bugging the heck out of me because of it. Look, summary accounts aren't a cakewalk, you know."
"Ah, right, I will weave to all that eventually." Nova was frowning wrathfully now. "I need only to write a letter; have you got some parchment and ink? And the money, of course! You must assist me, Scepter!"
"But where were you? In fact, take a look in the mirror, you're a mess. Something's come up, or what?"
"I got into a row, although now I am not sure even about that. The letter, brother, if you will. And where will I put this?" He placed the platinum coin on the short table.
"Where did you get hold of that?" exclaimed Scepter, staring at Nova and listening worriedly. "Didn't you say you were going to Las Pegasus to make a delivery?—or was it Baltimare? Wait, where's your Sunlight?"
"Eh, forget it. I just need some extra money, not much, one hundred bits is all, or two hundred. Yes, ideally two hundred. I will pay you back, you can rest assured. And for pity's sake, the letter!"
"Look, I can get you some parchment and a quill, just wait here, although I still don't know where you got that," he said, gesturing to the platinum coin.
"Eh, that was part of the delivery, but forget it," said Nova, as if uncertain of his words.
Scepter left for a short while, then came back and handed Nova a fresh sheet of paper to write on, accompanied with a bottle of black ink and a slender, red quill. He immediately got to writing down what he wanted.
"You've got one thousand bits," remarked Scepter. "If this was part of your delivery, and you're back so soon, I can only guess something went awry," he added, looking questioningly at Nova. "Have you been to Sunlight's place yet?"
"Yes."
"You have?"
"Yes."
"When? Today?"
"Yes—what? No. Yesterday."
"Then who's this letter for? And why do you need money if you can still spare a whole grand? Unless, all things considering, you're not allowed to spend this specific coin."
"Ah, finished! Brother, I need an envelope, and the money. Worry not, you will be wholly compensated eventually."
"Slow down. Why are you in such a rush, and why is it you still need money? I can't just give it away, you know."
"The envelope, brother, with the coin... that is, I need to end this."
"But listen to me!" interrupted Scepter, now with impatience. "Look, you're obviously in a hurry, but I'm not a drive-by station. Sunlight lent you that platinum coin, didn't she, otherwise why still have it, if it's part of that delivery to so-and-so you promised? You also said you're leaving Canterlot. Is that right?"
"I... I just need... ah, fine!" cried Nova, as if suddenly coming out of his distraction. He set down the letter and sank all of a heap into the sofa; his face was very melancholy. "First: allow me to finish my business, the letter and coin, I mean, I'm going to attach the two together and have somepony—preferably you, I would hope—convey it to my dear Sunlight. Because I really, really must... and I have no time, no time at all... but if you must know, then so be it. As long as I keep that cursed piece of metal safe, away from the greedy hooves of swindlers, I am not a thief. A scoundrel, but not a thief."
"I'm not sure I follow," said Scepter, reaching the limits of his understanding.
"It seems incomprehensible, doesn't it, Scepter? I wonder at you, or at myself, in spite of life. But—apologies—perhaps it really is incomprehensible. You see, attend to what I say. I appropriate one hundred thousand entrusted to my honour; I spend it on a large feast, say I spend it all, and next morning I go to her and say: ‘Sunlight, I’ve done wrong, I’ve squandered your one hundred thousand, the very same one meant for your hurting sister in that blasted hospital’; well, is that right? No, it’s not right—it’s dishonest and cowardly; I’m a beast, with no more self-control than a beast, that’s so, isn’t it? But still I’m not a thief? Not a downright thief, you’ll admit, or you should admit! I squandered it, but I didn’t steal it. Now a second, rather more favourable alternative: follow me carefully, or I may get confused again—my head’s going 'round—and so, for the second alternative: I spend here only ninety-nine thousand out of the one hundred thousand, that is, not all of it. Next day I go and take that leftover to her: ‘Sunlight, take this one thousand from me, I’m a low beast, and an untrustworthy scoundrel, for I’ve wasted most of the money, and I shall waste this, too, so keep me from temptation!’ Well, what of that alternative? I should be a beast and a scoundrel, and whatever you like; but not a thief, not altogether a thief, or I should not have brought back what was left, but have kept that, too. She would see at once that since I brought back even just a coin, a solitary platinum piece, I should pay back at least that, that I should never give up trying to, that I should work to get it and pay it back. So in that case I should be a scoundrel, but not a thief, you may say what you like, not a thief!"
"I admit the distinction," said Scepter, completely taken aback, however. "Well, so you went and wasted the money on a 'feast'—did I get that right? Nova, buddy, you're in it deep."
"That is the essence of my letter, that which must be conveyed to Sunlight this night, at least."
"Right, right..." Scepter sat there, deep in thought, unsure of what to make of the situation.
"And the money, brother?" said Nova again. "I assure you it will come at no expense... the two hundred, I mean."
Before Scepter could respond somepony knocked on the front door.
"Oh! Hold up a moment, I got to get that," he said, rising up and heading down the hall.
"Wait, hold on a bit!" Nova called back, with vague desperation lingering in his voice.
"Huh? What?"
"I just—think it could wait. No, no, answer it, go on ahead. I think I need to rest my eyes for now."
The indeterminate apprehension within Nova grew by the minute; his face, ever so often inclined to exaggerated expressions beyond convention, all done for the absolute sake of "picturesqueness," as he had put it—almost all gone, it had vanished due to the cold feeling in his legs, the disturbance in his stomach, the aghast buzzing in his ears. He felt like he truly was going to catch a fever, sooner rather than later. He felt an infinite firmness in himself: something that could only produce the most unreliable hesitations in his every action, in his every enunciation.
"Hey, Nova!" Nova heard his brother's voice.
"Y-yes?" he stammered in a response, slightly straightening his posture.
"Nova, there's somepony here to see you," Scepter threw in again from down the hall, laying a suspicious amount of stress on "somepony."
"Somepony?" said Nova, but his nerves shot upon realizing he was speaking out loud. "W-wait, wait a bit."
"You stay there," Scepter, who reemerged from around the corner, told him. "Sorry there, Nova, but I can't control everypony. Apparently she saw you coming in down a few blocks."
"She! Who is—"
He chocked on his words. Sunlight Ivory came around and wandered over to the couch opposite to Nova.
"Hello there, dear," she pronounced in modest fashion. She was more casually dressed this time, and only her eyeliner was visible. An air of immense concentration and, moreover, of evident sincerity, highlighted her tranquil face.
Nova was as pale as death. He practically felt his heart skip a beat. He stood facing her, unable to utter a word; but her eyes showed him, all without words, that she could guess his entire position. Nova could not say whether he understood this or not, only that he was trembling all over.
"Sunlight... you... my dear..." Nova could not bring himself to communicate coherently.
"Your eyes are bloodshot, Nova, are you sick?" she said, with notes of sorrowful concern ringing in her voice. With drooping ears she added: "That letter over there, it's been written just for me, hasn't it?"
"How did you—? My angel, you are—just... of all things in life!" Nova guffawed, blood rushing to his already-burning face and, indeed, it honestly felt like his eyes were about to shoot out of their sockets.
"I, uh, think I'll back out now," inserted Scepter awkwardly, mechanically stepping away from the living room, although he was just in the other side of the wall, listening attentively to their conversation.
In a burst of energy Nova snatched the letter, twisted it into a scroll with his fidgeting strength, jammed the singular platinum coin right through the middle, and laid it at Sunlight's hooves. But this letter merely unravelled itself, and the coin rolled out. He cringed, became even more self-conscious, and bowed before her.
"I'm no thief, Sunlight!" he exclaimed, his heart still pounding. "A scoundrel, the worst there is! I admit to it!"
Sunlight heaved a deep sigh, which immediately drew Nova's full attention; everything she did kept him on edge. He could tell she was agitated, and tried with all her will to conceal this fact; but there was a resolute gleam in her dark and gloomy eyes.
"I understand," said Sunlight, softly and clearly. "To tell you the truth, I was firmly convinced you were going to throw away that sum."
Nova's ears perked. He rose up slightly, staring at her with a lost, bitter expression
"You saved me once," she went on, the resolution in her voice rising in proportion to her breaking composure. "When my best friend was stuck in the financial deep end, you did all you could to save her; I came to you, crying, I didn't even care how my mane looked. Six months... six... months," he voice was starting to waver, "and all that time you put up with it, with her mentally deranged aunt, and her aunt's husband who beat her to a pulp every week. My parents wouldn't let me intervene, it was all stupid diplomacy. You did everything to ensure my happiness. And I—I couldn't not invite you. I loved you, Nova, I still do. I only ever wished to repay what you so beautifully offered. Do you remember how long ago this was? Do you recall, Nova?"
"It was... two years..." he, again, barely managed to say.
"I... I wanted... to save you"— Sunlight's voice was shaking, and her eyes glistened. "I need to tell you something."
"Tell something?" Nova, too, could not control the shaking in his voice.
"Yesterday, when I looked at your face, when I stared you dead in the eyes and told you to keep your promise, I was really saying: 'Go on, spend that money on another mare, then come back, I won't be surprised.' I practically screamed that to you. And yet here I am—in surprise. I, in the pretext of sending you to my sister, offered you one hundred thousand for yourself. 'You want money to be false with me, and yet you're too cowardly to ask for it; do with it what you like, it can only prove my point. I give it to you myself.' I wanted to prove what you were, in spite of everything that you've done. And did you know?"
"Did I know?" echoed Nova, feeling all but empty inside. Both ponies were now openly crying.
"Did you know that I knew you were going to squander that money? Crazy coincidence, isn't it? I saw you running down the street to your brother's house. This all but confirmed it, but just to be sure I settled on seeing you. Well, and now here we are. You've got one thousand left—is that okay? Do you want one percent of my repentance? I assure you, Nova, you understood I gave you that money to test you, to see whether or not you'd lose all your sense of honour as to take it from me. You looked into my eyes, I into yours, and you took it—you carried off with my money. In the deepest part of your subconscious you knew all this."
"That's true, Sunlight!" cried Nova quite suddenly. "I looked into your eyes and I knew that you were dishonouring me, and yet I took your money. Despise me as a scoundrel, despise me! I deserved it!"
Sunlight was reckless now of all consequence to herself. With eyeliner smeared down her cheeks from the tears she embraced him, and he could only just accept it and not pull away from shame; he let go of all his emotions and sobbed like a child. Now she had taken the final plunge.
"I'm sorry, Nova!" she said again in a ragged whisper. "For you, I'm sorry. I feel sorry for you. After you saved my best friend and let her live independently, I always wanted to save you—from anything—as long as I saved you from something."
"I am condemned now!" exclaimed Nova frantically
"Goodbye, Nova," Sunlight got in between sobs. She picked herself up, leaving Nova by the couch-side with the letter and her thousand-bit coin. She started heading off, paused reluctantly, and said once more: "My sister's alright, by the way. I personally covered the medical costs. There—now you have one less thing to torment yourself over. I'm sorry, Nova. I'm sorry. Goodbye!"
She walked out in extraordinary haste. It seemed, in fact, that she had all this sentimentality built up, since yesterday, or even before then, and that this little interaction with Nova was merely the final anticipated push, she had simply been waiting for it to occur.
Ever since she handed him those one hundred thousand.
It was only a matter of time.
* * *
At least a whole five minutes of ominous silence followed. Scepter, in his confusion, came back to the living room, making sure, however, to delay, so as not to seem like he had been stalling for Sunlight to take off just so he could return.
Nova was sitting on the same couch. The letter was still on the floor.
Scepter strode over to his brother's side, sitting down, staring into the ceiling.
"So what's next to come?" he asked. "Are you still leaving Canterlot?"
"I... am," said Nova, his voice mechanical and ringing with suspense and uncertainty. There was a vague look in his eyes. "Only, do not lend me the two hundred, I have changed my mind. I will go my own way. Thank you for your time, brother. You truly are one in a million. Thank you. And Farewell."