“I’m pretty sure the second window up is the storeroom,” a voice in the Canterlot Gardens whispered.
“‘Pretty sure’? What if it’s the Royal Guard lounge?” asked a second pony.
“Okay, okay, I am sure. Now help me with the rope.”
In dark of night, the two ponies fussed with the length of rope they had brought, untangling it for use.
“I don’t think this is going to work” the second pony remarked. “How will they not see this coming?”
“Because it’s a good burglary. I have a whole book on the science behind this sort of thing. The ponies getting stolen from never catch the burglars if it’s a good burglary and—“
“But we’re stealing Princess Luna’s freakin’ diary.”
“It’s not her diary; it’s the book she stores all her dark magical secrets in; it’s our key to the Dreamscape, Tartarus, and any other form of dark magic Luna knows of! Rumor has it she even knows how to raise the dead.”
“I know all that; that’s why I agreed to help you get it.”
“I’m explaining it as part of the burglary. The book explained that this is the second best time for the mastermind to explain what we’re stealing, with the best time being right after we’ve stolen it. We’ll take ‘now’ on account of you jumping into the topic so soon.
"Anyway, it’s because this book is so significant that we won’t be caught; If we were stealing apples from a market stall, there would be no reason to expect not to get caught.”
“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”
“It is a bit cliché, perhaps, but that’s how these things work. It’s like the opening of a book; the ‘bad guys’ – that’s us – have to succeed for the story to go anywhere.”
“You make it sound like our lives are just part of a stupid story.”
“Would that be so bad?”
The second pony sighed. “Okay, Mr. Muscle. Are you going to throw the grapple or not?”
“Alright. Stand back; I’m going to hook the roof.”
The first pony took up the rope and grapple in his hooves and started to swing it in a circle. He let it go and the grapple soard up into the air. The sound of shattering glass broke the peace of the night in response.
“That changes the plan some; let’s make it quick. You’re up, Ledge Tiger.”
“That’s not my name.”
“But we’re burglars, so we’re using fake names. The book I read even had a system for making them up.”
“‘Ledge Tiger’ is really lame.”
“I couldn’t just call you ‘cat burglar’. Now get up there.”
The second pony sighed again. “Fine.”
A minute later, the second pony made her way back down the rope as she held a small book in her mouth.
“Besides,” said the first pony, “my fake name is Sturdy Snowfall.”
The second pony spat the book out and caught it with a hoof. “But your normal name is Snowf—”
“Not here!”
“Ugh.”
“Well? Get in the carriage. I can already hear the guards moving, so we’re going to have to hurry.”
“Fillydelphia has put together two more bands. They’ll be moving to contain the parasprites in the northeastern fields tomorrow morning.” The captain’s words echoed across the room for a moment as he gestured towards a map on war room table. Nopony else spoke while they waited for Luna’s response.
“How do the eastern fields fare?”
“Not good.” Another captain unrolled a scroll and started reporting its contents. “With recent developments, they’re projected to lose almost half their crop before the outbreak is over. Even our imports are suffering; a train with seasonings for exotic cuisine was attacked en route from Fillydelphia’s ports to Canterlot this morning. The Chef’s Guild is holding a memorial for the lost Saffron tomorrow and Fillydelphia has redoubled their efforts to find musicians to spare.
“Towards the south, limited railway access is proving to be a limitation in our containment and relief efforts, especially with regard to supplying our ponies. Shipping companies have stopped sending shipments of food into the highest-risk zones.”
Several of the ponies around the table shifted uneasily. “That’s unacceptable!” one of them called out. “Have you heard back from Ponyville?”
Luna shot him a soft glare to put him back in his seat, then nodded. “Mayor Mare has determined that the Pink One’s abilities are more effective directed towards baking for our relief efforts than as one additional band. For the moment, I am inclined to ag—”
The doors to the room cracked open a the head of a guard poked in. He made his way to Luna’s seat and leaned into her ear.
“Princess, something… urgent has come up. Somepony broke into a storeroom on the north wing and escaped through the castle grounds. Your personal storeroom. Two patrols are currently in pursuit.”
“You may call them off,” Luna whispered back. She gave the guard a little smile. “I have the situation under control.”
“Yes, Princess.” The guard bowed and left and closed the door with a soft ‘thump’ behind him.
The room sat in silence for a moment.
“I have a slight revision of my position. Captain Glass, have word sent out to Prince Rutherford of Yakyakistan that I request his assistance on behalf of the Pink One. Arrange for special transportation to Ponyville should he accept. I will contact the Pink One personally.
“Captain Spearhead, I want you to spearhead the relief effort, but start redirecting the refused shipments to Ponyville …”
“Isn’t this awesome?” called the first pony “I paid an alchemist quite a bit for the engine; you know it harnesses the power of tiny explosions?”
The two ponies sat side-by-side in their small carriage; a poorly-integrated engine took up the rear half. While the first pony stayed relaxed as he drove, the second pony had braced herself with all four hooves.
The makeshift ‘horseless’ carriage had little trouble zipping down the streets of Canterlot as they raced down the north side of the mountain. In little time, they had left the urban regions of the city and their surroundings gradually levelled out and shifted towards the agricultural backbone of the region.
“WATCH OUT FOR THAT HAYCART!”
The warning came too late; both ponies and their carriage hurdled into a parked wagon as the steel-banded wheels failed to get enough traction on the cobblestone road. Wagon parts and hay flew everywhere.
“Don’t lose the book!” cried the first pony. “Follow me.”
“I thought you said we wouldn’t get caught, but it looks like you were wrong.”
“Don’t rub it in; we haven’t been caught yet.”
Behind them, the remaining pile of hay and carriage pieces burst into flame.
“See? We pulled it off. I told you we couldn’t fail.”
“Running down the streets of Canterlot with the Royal Guard charging up my ass isn’t what I would call ‘not failing’,” the second pony shot back. “Are we even sure the Guard won’t find us by morning here?” She gestured to the walls of the barn they had taken refuge in.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure we lost them ages ago. With a book this important, we’re starting an arc that’ll take months to resolve at least. This is Epic-level material, you know.”
“It had better be. Speaking of, why don’t you open it?”
“I don’t know… that’s the sort of reckless impatience the book I read warned me about.”
“But you already have a master plan, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Pretty— okay, nevermind. I’m not going there again.” The second pony took a breath. “If you have a plan, then taking a peek won’t hurt, will it? You’re just… inspecting it? Making sure it’s up to snuff?”
The first pony considered the idea. “That is a nicer way to put it. All right, then, let’s take a look.”
“What’s the w—”
“NO!” The first pony jammed a hoof in the other’s mouth. “Do not utter That Question. Now it’s not safe to look at it!”
“What?! Seriously? This is so stupid. Can’t you get it in your head that it doesn’t matter what we say or do or think at the moment? Our lives aren’t part of some weird pseudo-reality where superstition changes the fact that we have this book and it’s either what we’re looking for or it isn’t.”
The two glared at each other in silence for a minute.
“Fine. If only because you introduced enough dramatic tension that—”
“Again: No. Just stuff it with announcing how things will or won’t go because of whatever stupid religion it is you follow. Wouldn’t you doing that make it worse anyway?”
“You know, I think you’re starting to catch on and you have a good point.”
“JUST OPEN THE CELESTIA-DAMNED BOOK!”
“Fine. Let me just…” The first pony blew dust off the cover and cracked the book open.
“Damn.”
The second pony facepalmed. “Don’t tell me.”
“It’s blank.”
“Did you open it to the first page?”
“No, but why would that—”
“Just. Do. It.”
“Oh, look!” The first pony said. “Oh. Oh no…”
You can’t stay awake forever.
–Princess Luna