//------------------------------// // Wicked Stable Pt 5 // Story: These City Walls // by KitsuneRisu //------------------------------// These City Walls Chapter 1: Wicked Stable, Part 5 "Where are we, Sarge?" asked Rebby, as they walked down the barren road. Clearly, this was a much different part of the city than where they had been just previously, and certainly a lot fancier than the areas around the precinct she was used to. The buildings here were far more spaced out, and the roads winded and weaved through well-tended expanses of grass and flowers, all of which the ponies graciously kept off of. The population too, thinned out and mere individuals peppered the landscape as the two policeponies walked down side by side - there was plenty of space, and all that space gave character as the girls in blue were greeted by every passerby with a 'good morning, officers', or a 'how do you do, ma'am'. It seemed very serene and peaceful, almost utopian, but there was a strange disposition to the place; and just as you know that still waters run deep, you also know that the calmest place in Canterlot is just so for a precise reason. "We're near the castle, Berry," said Canary. "Not like you could miss it, anyway." And how true was that statement made, for no matter which point you placed yourself in this perfect landscape would you be shadowed by the mighty castle of Princess Celestia, as it watched over all her ponies with its covert gaze. It built itself up in the distance, at the highest point atop the cliff, magic waterfalls casting an ever-lasting stream of water upward and over the edge, only to be swept away by the winds and become as mere mist playing host to a rainbow eternal. "It's rather pretty," commented Rebby. They had stopped a point along the path which gave them a decent view of the castle from the side - the same view that Ponyville had, but at a level eyeline. "Pity about all the space, though, eh?" "What do you mean, Berry?" asked Canary, as they stopped to catch their breath. Being up on a cliff meant that the air was very thin, and you were always either fighting against or rolling with a slope. At least they didn't have the paddy wagon with them; Canary was wise enough to leave it back at the station before making the long trip here. Either way, what they required could easily fit into a saddlebag, which Berry now wore in place of her usual helmet, which was also left behind due to Canary deeming it 'too uncouth' for where they were going. "Well, I mean, look at all this emptiness, Sarge. Sure is different down there, isn't it?" She pointed back toward the township that lay in a semi-circle around the castle city's feet. "Even if it's technically the same city and all, this place is really... bare." "Well, there's reasons for that, Berry." "I mean, couldn't they plant an apple tree or something? Then we wouldn't have to import and stuff..." "Well... alright," Canary breathed in heavily, letting the sweet, dew-filled air scratch past her lungs. "First time here, Berry?" "Yeah Sarge," she nodded. "Never really needed to come up to the castle area before. In fact, Staff Sergeant Blue Beat says I should never come up here. I don't know why." "Let's try out those detective skills of yours, right here, Berry. What do you see?" "Whut now?" asked Berry catching up slowly. "Oh, right Sarge, I got this one. Yeah." Perhaps driving in a bit too eagerly, Berry scanned the environment and her checklist came out ticked, as the seconds ticked by. "I see... a lot of space, Sarge." "Alright, the obvious, but I'm not going to knock points off for that. Go on." "The ponies here are pretty friendly too. They're noticing us and saying hello as we walk by. They... walk slower, too, with smaller steps." "Good observation. Always look at how a pony walks. Tells you a lot of things. But what does this feel like?" "Makes me think they aren't in a rush, Sarge, like there's maybe... less to do here?" "Yeah, alright." "It reminds me of the countryside, Sarge. Not big cities like Canterlot or Phillydelphia. It's more like Ponyville or whatnot. Kinda relaxed." Canary always thought that this place was like the countryside, in fact. She figured it was city, but so city that it went in reverse and ended up behaving like its opposite. "Not many houses here, too, Sarge. Not many Ponies live here. Hard to get stuff, too. It's a fair walk down to the mains, and this slope doesn't help." "Yeah, that's right. There's a magic school here, and there's regular shipments of supplies from the Pegasus couriers." "So... these ponies are... rich?" "And...?" "Lucky?" Berry hazarded a guess. "Well, they sure are," said Canary, almost like it was a complaint. "Only the most elite of elite live up here. Being lucky is part of it, but the ones who stay here are the ones who have something to do with Big C." "Oh, like servants and teachers and things?" "That's right. Everypony else was... invited to make their way down a bit and make a larger community surrounding the castle." "Why, Sarge?" "Think tactically, Berry. The castle is in the highest part of the city. Besides having the best view, what would happen if Canterlot were attacked?" "Well, the advantage goes to the one with height, right?" "That's right, Berry." "But what about all those ponies down there?" she pointed to the cityscape. "That's what all the space is for, Berry." Ooooh, right. She hadn't thought about it that way. It made sense, though. The castle was built a long, long time ago, when ponies were still establishing themselves throughout the region, and as unfair as it was, the Princess did have highest priority of safety. "It doesn't really apply any longer, though," cut Canary. "What do you mean, Sarge?" "Well, there's just too many of us now. All spread out. All over Equestria. Used to be that the city needed walls to protect her. Now, the city is a wall. If any creature beast or horde wanted to get through all that..." she looked down at her home. "Probably gonna take them a while. Also, now with dragons flying around... point is moot." "So none of this... really applies?" Berry asked, confused, waving her leg at the great space around them. "Yep." "And it's for nothing?" "Yep." "So what's it for?" "I told you what it's for." "I don't get it, Sarge." "Get what?" "What's the lesson?" "The lesson is," Canary said, wistfully. "That sometimes the key to understanding the present can be found in the past." ,---(*< ~---, '---------------' They had a sandwich. Then, they had one more. They had four more after that. They were ravenous, much to the amusement of the waiter, and their plate of baby bamboo shoots had long grown cold and morose. They were so full, but they were happy, and that's what was missing from the equation. The time for deep discussion had long been past, and their focused task now was getting back to the shop without falling over. "I... have never... eaten that... much before," wheezed Duriandal. "In one... sitting!" "Oh... come on," rebutted Blitz. "You... only... had three... I had to... finish off the last one...!" She plopped a hoof on a new step, huffing as she hefted herself up. "What's up... with this street, anyway? There's like... a million... steps... here!" "Two hundred... and fifty... seven..." "Oh... for..." Ok, that's it. Enough is enough. Time to stop and take a breather. "Ok... ok... wait... wait," she crumpled to the ground on one of the cool, blue-stone steps, made out of cracked, worn pebbles sprinkled into cement. The mid-morning sun bounced off each and every one of them, giving off a dazzling show of pin-pricks and fireflies. "You know... this place is... really fancy." "Yes... I think so... too," agreed Duriandal. They both panted as they rested on different steps, full to bursting. Blitz had paid for the whole feast herself. It was something friends did, she explained. Treating one another on special occasions. Was this a special occasion? Duriandal had asked. Yes it most certainly was, replied Blitz. It was the first day of Duri and Blitz's new friendship. And they now both were lying on the floor, collecting odd looks from the waxing crowd. To her credit, this had only happened once before in Blitz's life, and was the result of a very nasty incident with a block of marble that was far too heavy for her to be lifting by herself. At least the pavements up in Cloudsdale were far more comfortable than what she was lying on right now, she mused. "What is it like?" came a question directed toward her. It also had this muse-y tone to it, like it was a pondering upon something that didn't really have an answer. "What's what like, Duri?" she responded, staring up into the sky and its fluffy white offerings. "What is Cloudsdale like?" Apparently they were both looking at the same thing. "Cloudsdale... well..." she repeated, "It's something. Big old city, just floating there in the sky. View's incredible. Air's always fresh. And you never have to worry about the weather." "Is it... pretty?" "Well... sure," thought Blitz. She never really had to describe her home before. It was just something that ponies took for granted. Either you were there or you weren't, and when you really thought about it, what were the qualities that made Cloudsdale 'pretty'? "It's... very white," she said. "Clouds everywhere... I'm doing a terrible job." "No, I do not think so." "Yeah? How would you describe Canterlot, then?" "Very gold. Stone everywhere." Blitz snorted, a solid single laugh that took her by surprise. "Well, so you do have a funny bone in you, huh, Duri?" Duriandal, out of sight of her partner, smiled to herself slightly for this personal achievement. "Well, I tell you what, Duri, you'd love Cloudsdale. It's really round and orderly. Pillars all over, keeping things aloft. Not too many distractions, you know? It's just... peaceful and serene, and calm. We have a huge stadium for games, if you're into that kind of thing, and if you're not happy with the landscape, you can change it." She thought back to her own house, full of her work and wares. Just thinking how different it was up there where your very environment tripled as your universal building material as well as your weather-generating device. It was actually quite a remarkable place. "Oh, snap, I think I left a window open," Blitz remarked off-hoof. "Are you concerned?" "Well, not really. Just that sometimes the drafts get in and blow my worksheets around and I gotta go find them and all." ... "It must be nice," said Duriandal, after a moment's pause. "It's home," came the only answer. "But Canterlot's not bad, is it?" "It is not easy," said Duriandal. "How so?" "I am just an Earth pony, living amongst Unicorns," she said. "A lot of things here are made for magic users in mind, and I usually have to compensate." "Well, why'd you move here, anyway? Where did you grow up originally?" "Here, actually. In the orphanage across town. I was too young to remember anything before my first day there." "Yeah, I get it," Blitz tried to get the topic running again to avoid having to go back to that time and place. "So why didn't you just leave?" "I decided to stay. Because... I was tired of being normal." "That's... an interesting way to put things." "Oh, I do realise that... in my case, the word 'normal' seems not to apply. But... when I was growing up, I realised something. Earth ponies are... lesser beings." "Now that's just not tr..." Blitz frowned. "We are. This is simply fact, not speculation, nor emotional thinking. We do not have magic, and we are unable to fly. How are we 'better' than our Pegasus and Unicorn counterparts?" "Industrialism?" "Even our own princess was chosen for her blessing to have both the power of flight and magic. Would an Earth pony be chosen for lack of either, instead?" Suddenly it got very uncomfortable for Blitz. Even if she didn't think of it that way, and even if they were brought up to believe that it wasn't that way, there still rung bells of truth in the words of this lesser being who was lying next to her. "We are unable to perform half as much in double the time, thanks to our limitations." "Well, I don't think this is a common perception..." "It is not about the perception," stated Duriandal, bluntly. "I believe you know me well enough by now to know that perception does not affect me much." Yeah, that was true, too. "It is about truth. The truth about who we are, and who we choose to be." "What now?" "In truth, I am limited. Even more so by my condition. This condition that led me to be abandoned by my own parents in an orphanage halfway around the world." Her tone started to take a spiteful edge to it, very deep emotions welling up from the scars that hid them. "I discovered my special talent through my condition. I had learnt that I was able to recall things vividly through memory. This included sight, sound as well as smell, although I do not recall physical sensation or taste as much." "And in the end, I found that I had the opportunity to put it to use, and do something with it that no other, no Unicorn nor Pegasus, could do. And that is why I remain here, in Canterlot, as a perfumer," Duriandal concluded. "You know... you don't have anything to prove to anypony," said Blitz. "Do I not?" "I don't think so... I mean, to me it sounds more like you're trying to prove something to yourself." "I do not see it that way." "I suppose you don't, but... you think of what it would be like in Cloudsdale quite a bit, don't you?" "Yes." "Beautiful place, with the pillars?" "Yes." Blitz pointed up to a large cloud that was lazily swimming overhead. It was one of those huge puffy ones, like the ones that would burst into rain at any moment, but still as white as a dove in winter. "So why don't you just go to that cloud instead?" "Instead of Cloudsdale?" "Sure." "They are entirely different." "But if you're only looking up from the bottom, all clouds look the same." ... "Listen, I know it's been difficult, Duri. You don't sound like you've had a good life, and I really can't say that I know what it's like to have endured what you went through. "But if you really want to pick yourself up and show that you're not just some rotten apple left at the bottom of the barrel, then you have to start changing the way you look at things, sometimes, or else everything will just look like a lumpy old cloud for the rest of your life. "And trust me when I say," she went on, when she was only met with silence, "that in this day and age, no one thinks down upon Earth ponies. In fact, Earth ponies do a lot of things that us Pegasus ponies and even these magic abusing Unicorns can't. You Earth ponies run the show, you know that? You're naturally smarter, more flexible, and, I mean, come on, look. Look at you. If there's any proof that an Earth pony can make it big out of his or her element, just look at yourself. "And no, it's not because you tried hard to fight the system, it's really because the system let you. If you really were right about Earth ponies being the 'lesser being', you wouldn't have made it no matter what you did! But here you are, and you're doing well." ... "Duri, you still with me?" "Yes. I am... attempting to understand your words. The scope is... broad." "Take your time, Duri, take your time." They lay there, the two of them, contemplating on what had been said. Duriandal, more so, Blitz, simply just thinking about if what she said wasn't a bit too much out of her boundaries. She had only just met this crazy pony a bit more than a day ago, but she felt that she knew her as if they had been friends for months. Or was she the crazy one? Things really did seem to speed by when it came to handling someone as free and honest as Duri, though. Normally it would take quite a while before ponies would open up to you like that, but she was a book lain bare, and not only so, but one that was throwing its words at you because it didn't know how to keep itself shut when necessary. "Duri?" "Yes?" "Listen... I want to help you. As a friend." "That... is appreciated," Duriandal replied, tiredly. "But right now, I think we've both over-eaten, and we're nearly 24 hours without sleep. We ought to go get some rest, and then I'll cover some... basic stuff with you about relationships and all that, ok?" And this time there was no reply, for Duriandal had drifted off into a shallow nap, right there on the pavement, while staring into the sky. ,---(*< ~---, '---------------' "Are we supposed to be here, Sarge?" "Probably not." "Sarge... this is breaking and entering, it is," Rebby said, nervously. "Nah, see, if you don't break anything, it's just 'entering' isn't it? And entering isn't against the law." "Uh... Sarge..." "Relax your flank, Berry," Canary smirked. She pushed the doors open, which fell into place, leaving a showering of dust as they flew apart. "Back when you were... interrogating that Twilight character, I was chatting it up with our dear friend Princess Celestia. This is one of her personal libraries and Twilight Sparkle's ex-home." "What, she only lives in libraries, Sarge?" "I dunno, don't look at me," Canary shrugged. "Anyway, she gave us permission to use it for 'reference'." "That seems a bit..." "What, Berry?" "Oddly convenient, Sarge." "Well, odd conveniences do happen, Berry. Besides, it only came up because Princess Celestia said that she'd make all her resources available, as well as Twilight's, and I said, well, what can Twilight do? and she said, well, she likes books." "She likes books, Sarge?" "She likes books, Berry. Explains the library thing, huh?" "She must be a real worm, Sarge." "A what?" "You know, because she's a bookworm?" Rebby started sniggering. "Berry... that was..." Canary stared at her, "terrible. Just... absolutely terrible." "Sorry, Sarge." "I'm not forgiving you for that one, Berry," she replied, as they entered the dark and musty trove of knowledge. It had been so long since anypony had stepped inside that they left clear imprints on the layer of fine lint that carpeted the floor, and every move they made caused something to shake itself free from its dusty trappings. "Aw, c'mon, Sarge, I'm sleepy," Berry whined, her pitiful echoes bouncing off the layers of bookshelves. "I can't think well." There was no response. They already had a nap earlier, anyway. "Big place, Berry," remarked Canary, to herself. And it was quite large indeed. Far larger than their entire station, for goodness sakes. Rows upon rows of shelves upon shelves, and even a balcony for who knows what reason. There were more books up there too. But despite their general disuse, they were all shelved neatly, and everything was in its place. "Guess they haven't been reading much since Twilight left, huh?" "No, I suppose not, Berry." She walked up to the nearest bookshelf, the one beside the counter, and took a quick scan of the brass plaque that informed the surveyor of the contents of each shelf. "It's all... books on science over here. Berry? Check the others." Berry clicked her heels in response and ran down the other side, looking through all the books on one of the middle shelves in order. "We got... astronomy, astrology, aesthetics, applied philosophy, analytics, anti-matter physics..." she stopped, a pile of dirt bunching up beneath her hooves. "What were all those words I just said, Sarge?" Over on Canary's side, there were books such as socio-economics, state of matter mechanics, syntax, systems philosophy and 'oral literature methodologies' a.k.a. storytelling. Clearly they were dealing with a particularly specialized library here, and possibly the lack of patronage wasn't due to it being closed. The door was open when they got here, after all. Canary had only assumed that Celestia sent ahead to have the place unlocked, but now she wasn't so sure. "I don't have the faintest idea, Berry. Celestia sure reads some cryptic manure." she said slowly. "I think we're going to need backup on this one." "Oooh, oooh, I got it, I got it!" bounced the frantic light-red pony to the entrance, ever eager to help. Also, she loved playing with the messaging system. At the core of it, the messaging system was simple. The problem was, how would you communicate over long distances, over a wide area, without direct line of sight and with fairly immediate results? Unless somepony discovered a way to instantly send scrolls magically to each other or something like that, and haha, who's going to come up with that? they had no choice but to use the device. The problem was simplified by the fact that they had Silver. Silver was not, by any means, the fastest Pegasus alive, but she could make it to the castle and back from the station in eleven seconds flat. Which was impressive, considering. So all you needed, really, was Silver. Quick Silver, with all her many faults, had one thing to her credit, and that was her amazing gift of sight. She could see for miles around, and spot things way off in the distance that was merely a speck to other ponies. It was her special ability, and something that served her well as the station's spotter cum messenger cum everything else-r. They did kind of shovel the loose jobs to her, but she never minded. She was pretty happy for the work and the chance to move around, which really, was all she wanted. And this was why she noticed when Berry let loose that little specially treated bunch of embers up into the sky, waving it in a special symbol that they had worked out in the past. This symbol meant 'get your flank over here A.S.A.P.', and Silver always responded when she saw it. And when she didn't, it meant she was busy, and asking her to deliver messages was out of the question anyway, so it all worked out no matter what. "Why do you love that so much, Berry?" Canary asked, inquisitively. "I dunno Sarge. I'm attracted to anything red and glowing," said Berry distractedly, concentrating on her task, eyes upward to heaven and horn focused on the bundle. Somepony in the station had been able to mix some chemicals together, and soak a simple bunch of straw in it, so when lit, it would burn bright and glowing red, allowing it to be seen both day and night. It was an elegant solution to an elegant problem. One that would have to do until somepony invented something better. Over the horizon, a blur of gold atop silver came streaking out of the roofs of the buildings deep below, making a beeline toward Canary and Berry. "I think we're in luck, Berry," Canary squinted. "Yeah? She seen us?" "Yeah, yeah. It's her. You can drop the flare now, Berry." Constable Berry did as she was told, stamping the fire out on the ground. Very gently, four silver hooves touched down in front of the library. And their messaging system had arrived. "Alright, we need... we need an expert," said Canary, to Silver. "And don't worry this time. Princess Celestia's not going to be making a personal appearance." "Ya wan' I should get tha' Twilight Spark' again, boss?" she asked. "Yeah. Tell her we need her help to find... a book." ,---(*< ~---, '---------------' Blitz Breeze, who usually knew where (and why, more importantly) she had fallen asleep at any given period of rest, awoke to find herself not knowing where she was. Oh she knew why. It was a simple case of Sandwich Nap-attack, which is the worst kind of nap-attack there is, because it gets you without you knowing. It sneaks up on you like an evil little weasel, and bites you on the back of the head, and injects its sweet, pleasant sleep juice right into your mind, and as you slowly succumb to the lush softness of your bed, you thank, that's right, you thank the evil little weasel for its somnolent potions... Hey, this was soft. And unless the sidewalk had miraculously turned all marshmallow on them, she was actually sleeping on a bed. She blinked her eyes and looked around, still dazed from the deep slumber that had encapsulated her mind. She had vivid and pleasant dreams. Dreams of dancing cookies and grinning cupcakes and spaghetti on top of strawberry shortcake oh my. She smacked her mouth. She felt hungry again. That was when she noticed the second thing, which was that she was in a very small bed with company. "Gyah!" she yelped, falling out of bed onto the hard wooden floor. A little soft cloud puffer landed solely on her face, as she knocked against a nightstand on the way down. On the bed, the little svelte figure of Duriandal was still snoozing away, resting her weary head. She'd hogged the blanket, that little snot. Ah jeez, it was already late evening. They were supposed to go to the police station today to follow up on that weird thing, and she had to go back home and close the window before some prankster stuffs a raincloud in her studio and fills it up again like last time. Why'd they have to fall asleep at such a strange hour? Why? Although they were absent from the threat of immediate terror, the night-time still held feelings of discomfort for Blitz, and no doubt for Duriandal as well, who didn't let things go easily, she noticed. It would probably do them both a bit of good to get out of the house and find somewhere else to stay for a while. The true test of a pony, now, was then to wake someone else up and face their morning face. If she could do just this... Well, let's go for it. "Duri? It's time to get up," she said slowly, approaching with dire caution. ,---(*< ~---, '---------------' It was only fifteen minutes they had to wait, but those fifteen minutes were pretty long in the eyes of Sergeant Canary. She had busied herself by making a sweep of the un-swept library, while Berry dozed off in the corner. She didn't mind, though, they had been working pretty long hours since the start of this whole mess, and there didn't look to be any rest for a while coming. A sharp rap at the door caught both of their attention, as their training kicked in and put them both in serviceable condition in mere instances. "A'vance notice, boss!" yelled Silver through the open doorway. Behind her, hazy in the setting sun, was the silhouette of a balloon touching down, and a pony hopping out. "Twilight Sparkle. Pleasant to see you again," said Canary as she exited the library, tapping Silver on the back when she passed. "Thanks, Silver. I'll take it from here. Hang around for now." Silver trotted off to her own devices as Berry joined the group, nodding a hello to the pupil of Princess Celestia. "Hi officers," said Twilight, bubbly. She looked ready, willing, and all too eager to help. "Sorry we're late, but Corporal Silver told me you were looking for a book. And while you certainly picked the right pony to help you with all things in-te-lectual, heh heh..." She 'bashfully' put a hoof to her chest to accentuate the professionalism. "I brought along somepony else much more suited for the job." "Some...pony else? Miss... there's only..." And there it was. There was a sound. It almost sounded like the screech of a bomb as it flew through the air, and it almost gave Canary reason to cringe upon impact. "....eeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" the noise turned into a high-pitched yell of excitement, as a fuzzy pink thing leapt out from the basket of the large air balloon, landed on one hoof, and then did some sort of dance. And then, it started giggling inanely. "Pinkie," Twilight nudged her. "You were supposed to behave!" "Oh, it's ok, isn't it?" she said, talking on overdrive. She started hopping around, much to the amusement of Constable Berry, who had trouble concealing her grin. Canary didn't feel as delighted. "Ma'am, this is an official police investigation..." "Oooooh, the police?" Pinkie said, stopping and poking her head up to them at an odd angle. "Do you drive a fast cart? Do you have a crossbow? Do you like cupcakes?" "Cupcakes, what have cupcakes..." began Canary. "Because I brought hundreds!!!" squealed Pinkie Pie in delight, as she yanked out a picnic blanket from the balloon. It looked like someone had tied up a piano in there. "I've got chocolate, coconut, strawberry, blackberry," Pinkie Pie went on, as the red-and-white chequered blanket unravelled and spread itself over the ground, cupcakes pouring out in every direction. Two even made their way down the hill and started making a mad dash for freedom. "Raspberry, cinnamon, cookie dough, carrot crunch..." "Pinkie." came the shaken and nervous tone of Twilight Sparkle. She was ruining her chance to impress the police. "White chocolate, Dark chocolate, Pink chocolate..." "Pinkie." "I have... oh, this isn't a cupcake at all, it's a muffin!" Pinkie Pie held it up triumphantly. "I'm sorry, officers," said Twilight Sparkle, head hung low. "Uh... it's... alright," said Canary. "Are you... certain she can help us? No eating on the job, Berry!" Berry dropped the cupcake she had pilfered from the stack, which was about to be chomped on with gusto, a dejected look on her face. What did she do to deserve this? Two fillies and somepony that needed constant positive reinforcement or else she would explode, by the looks of it. Unbelievable. And one of the fillies was hers. "Yes, officer, despite all appearances, Pinkie Pie here can really help out, I hope." "You don't sound too confident." "I mean, she definitely will be able to help, isn't that right, Pinkie?" Twilight grabbed her by the neck and dragged her over as if on a leash. "So if you... wouldn't mind... we'll... get right to work here..." Twilight started dragging the hyperactive pink smear into the library as she struggled against her tight iron grasp, although from the way Canary figured she was just struggling because it was what someone did in that situation, and Twilight wasn't really that strong. The door shut on them with a loud slam. Canary shifted her lower jaw around, unsure of what kind of expression to give. "... Thoughts, Berry?" "I dunno, Sarge. Twilight seems to think she can help." "How long do you think before they realise we haven't told them what to look for yet?" "I dunno, Sarge. I dunno." ,---(*< ~---, '---------------' They had walked a good manner of roads in search for an adequate place to 'store' Duriandal for a couple of hours while Blitz would make her way back to Cloudsdale in order to tie up loose ends and put an extended away sign on her door. They had ended up here. "What does 'Pouze' mean?" Duriandal asked, looking up at the brightly lit letters that adorned the front of the nightclub. It was one of those freakishly up-market joints where the name of the place was sort of propped up and sticking out of the wall, with light pouring out from behind it, successfully drawing Ponies from all over to it as it made its firm standing as one of Canterlot's greatest night destinations. Also it had uneven walls that made the whole thing look like a Rubik's Cube gone suicidal. "I have no idea," pondered Blitz. These sort of places didn't really have names that made sense, anyway. It was always either some corruption of a regular word or something that they made up. This one sounded like someone had dropped some ice cream from a height and wrote down the noise it made. "Welcome to Le Pouze," said the bouncer at the entrance, allowing a couple of ponies past the red velvet-lined queue barrier. This might not have been the best of her ideas, but Blitz didn't really know the area very well, and if anything, there was safety in numbers. Right? Right? Oh boy. "Ok don't worry." "I am not worried," Duriandal said, curiously staring up into the big flashing sign, as if trying to dissect it in her mind. "No? Good, because I am. Just do what we talked about and you'll be... relatively fine. I hope." "I am confident that I will be able to perform under the conditions of your briefing, Blitz Breeze." "It's only going to be a couple hours at the most, and I'll be right here and I'll come in and find you, and then we can leave, ok?" "Can I go in now?" Blitz gave Duriandal a hard look. "You're not... excited to go in, are you?" "I am. I have not indulged in such entertainment before, and while it might be better off under quieter circumstances, I will appreciate the new experience nonetheless." "Uh... alright! That's good then, you're... fired up about it. I like that. I think." "I am all fired up," said Duriandal. "Ok so just... observe, alright? Don't try to do anything. Please. And I'll be back before you know it and we can go somewhere else." "I think I will be fine, Blitz Breeze. But I appreciate the concern." "Also, you're... ok all up there, right?" She waved her hoof at her head in a circular motion. "You're not going to drop dead on me or anything, are you?" "Likely, at the most, I will be found staring at a wall due to sensory overload, and then you will be able to find me regardless, so it does not matter." "What? That's not..." "That was... a joke, Blitz Breeze." "Oh... oh. Ok. You know, it's hard to tell with you. Usually when people joke they change their voice a little? You know, just to let people know it's a joke." "Then what would be the point?" asked Duriandal. "Uh... we'll get into that later. I'll be back, ok?" She walked backwards a little, making sure that Duriandal wasn't going to be run over by a herd of wild antelope or anything, before finally taking flight and gliding in the general direction of Cloudsdale. She felt a little pressure. Alright, Duri was a very smart adult and could take care of herself, but... this was just new, and maybe new things weren't that good for her. But on the other hoof, this would be distracting, and maybe she would be fine; after all, she made it all this way alone so far, right? Oh you're thinking too much, Blitz, she thought, but thinking was all she could do. Back on the ground, Duriandal made headway by walking past all the ponies who were queuing up for entry and approaching the big, tough bouncer at the door, decked out in a full suit. He was wearing sunglasses. At night. His cutie mark was a pair of sunglasses. That's how committed he was. "Back of the line, miss," he growled at her. She turned to look. "What about it?" "... No, go to the back of the line." "Oh, I wasn't aware I needed to, I am sorry," she said in earnest. "You kiddin' me? She kiddin' me?" the bouncer turned to his bouncer buddy, who shrugged. "Oh wait, you're alone ain't ya?" "Yes, I am very much alone tonight." "Ok, ok, fine, go on in," he stepped aside, rolling his eyes as Duriandal meekly trotted in. "Why the cute ones always gotta have attitude?" he muttered to his buddy. And the attitude-free Duriandal marched determinedly in, eyes focused and narrowed at the task at hoof, as she passed by a poster that she did not bother to read. "Tuesdays," it said, proclaiming the theme of the day. "Singles free." ,---(*< ~---, '---------------'   They'd found the book. They did it in much less time than Canary would have guessed they'd take, but things generally stopped surprising Canary a few years ago. This was an unprecedented method of working, but she didn't care as long as they got results, and they had better get results. The two policeponies were standing 'guard' outside of the library doors, since Twilight had insisted that Pinkie Pie works best when no one was watching, and a lot of... things had to happen before the book could be found. Specifically what, she was not keen to divulge, but Twilight forced the point that the fewer ponies who went in the better, so Canary left it at that and let them go about their business. The library was going through refurbishing, from the sounds of the last ten minutes. "... no, no, the mental trauma has to come after the parental abuse," Canary argued, just as the door swung open again. She cleared her throat. "Fouuuund it!" chittered Pinkie, as she bounded out the door. Trailing a close second was Twilight, dragging her heels and looking very weary indeed. In front of her were floating three large, old tomes that she dropped just as Canary caught them in her own yellow-tinged aura of magic. "... Hard day at the office?" asked Canary. "Heh... you could say that," grinned Twilight, weakly. "Here's all the books on 'The Wicked Stable' that I... we could find. I'll do some more research when I get back home, if that would help." "That would help very much, Miss Twilight. I'll make sure that Princess Celestia hears of your generous time." So easy to play them, thought Canary, as that one single sentence alone brought energy and life back to the bones of the old purple mare. "Really? Would you?" Twilight Sparkled. "Oh, you needn't go through all the trouble... but if you are, mention how I'm going to work extra hard to find even more information for you, ok?" "Will do, ma'am," Canary posted a sour grin. "Ah... Pinkie, go on ahead without me, I have to... clean up in here," said Twilight, walking back into the library. "And thank you, as well, for your co-operation and aid," Canary said to Pinkie Pie with a tip of the head. "Oh, no problem! It was easy!" she said excitedly. "Awww, you girls didn't have any cupcakes!" "I wanted a c... ow!" "That's fine, miss. I'm sure there are others who will enjoy your treats more," said Canary, moving away from Berry. "Okie Dokie Lokie!" Pinkie said, returning to the comfort of the balloon, and leaving all the cupcakes on the floor anyway. The duo watched as the balloon sailed away, back toward Ponyville. "That was... annoying." "If you say so, Sarge." "Look, doesn't matter. We got what we came here for. Let's go through these books, alright? And be careful, they're really fragile." They poured over the covers of the three tomes that lay before them. The pages flipped gently as Canary leafed through them, staring at the old faded letters on yellowing, crisping paper. "These... look to be like some sort of collections of old stories and things like that," said Canary, analyzing the text. She really wondered if this would help them at all. "Same here, Sarge," said Berry, going through another with deliberate gentleness. They both searched through in mute for a while, the odd crash or shuffling coming from within the library. "Think I got something, Sarge," said Berry. "Short entry, but I dunno, it seems to detail what we were missing out on." "What's it say?" Canary said, still looking through her own book, coming across an old poem. "Beware ye the Wicked Stable, the five what run rampant through the heart and discourage the mind," Berry dictated. "This is really odd wording, Sarge." "It's really old," said Canary. "Then there's something about how if you don't abstain from the call of the Wicked Stable, you will find yourself in ruin," she started to paraphrase. "And here's a list of the five... Oh, I see." "Don't keep me on tenterhooks, Berry." "avarice, , trespassprejudice, Hypocrisy and hubris, Sarge." "That's the Wicked Stable?" "Seems like, Sarge." "I see, I see, makes sense," Canary's mind had started to churn. "It's just a list of things to avoid. The Wicked Stable. Stable in this case meaning a group or a collection. It's just archaic, that's all." "What's hubris mean, Sarge?" "They're all bad things, Berry. Lying, hate, greed... you know what trespassing is, and hubris means being a self-centered, proud sunnavamare. I guess the meaning's changed since way back when, but I think... I think we're looking at five crimes, Berry." "Five old crimes?" "Well, I mean, they still apply today, but if you stretch the meaning... I think we're looking at one of the first law books ever in pony history." "Well gee whiz, Sarge. Not much of a book there, though is it? Just a bunch of hokey spooky stuff, like this bit here, about bewaring the Stable so as not to incur the wrath of justice." "Yeah but that's all they had back then, just a bunch of scary stories to keep ponies straight. Now you have the police." "You figure this is what they're basing their murder off, Sarge?" "Well if they are, then we can expect another four. But it's too early to say, right?" "There's a direct link, sarge. The thing drawn on the floor matches the book here exactly, just like Silver said, right, Sarge?" "Well that's true, but it could be a coincidence, too. Could be just an accident for all we know." "You think it's an accident, Sarge? I mean, like you said, there were a lot of messages left there, and we don't know what message means which... you thinking it's not related, Sarge?" All these questions were getting to Canary. She was beginning to get irate under the constant bombardment of possibilities and pathways... she was never a very patient pony to begin with, but now with this new revelation, she was starting to take it personally. "So if we follow this list of old crimes, then which one do you reckon the first murder was, Sarge?" "Well, it's not entirely clear, but... the murder victim we found this morning. If she had been in the store and had been stealing... that's hypocrisy, isn't it?" "Wouldn't that be uh... greed, Sarge?" "Well... yeah, yeah it would, but in this case she stole perfume, not bits or anything. She stole a product to... make yourself smell better. That's the hypocrisy, not the theft itself," Canary frowned in deep thought. "Well, could be that. Could even be that hubris thing in that case, because she was being vain, right?" "I don't know, Berry." "But it's kind of weird then, isn't it?" "I don't know, Berry." "Because if they were meaning to kill based on these five crimes, then why kill the thief and not the perfumer lady?" "I don't know, Berry. Maybe because she was still a criminal? Maybe... the meanings are deeper. But I don't know. I just don't know!" she yelled, slamming the book shut, not reading the poem. "I don't know, ok? It's a stretch, what do you want me to do?" She sighed in aggravation. It was this kind of thing that got to her. When you knew there was something there, just something, but it was just sort of a touch out of reach, and these conclusions that you came to might just be one of those coincidences they'd been talking about. There was always the chance that it wasn't even related at all. There was always the chance that that marking left at the scene was by pure luck and they'd been chasing the rabbit down the wrong hole. There was really only one way to know for sure, and that was something that Canary absolutely, definitely hated, because while it would confirm things for them, it would also mean that they weren't catching up. "We have to wait for another murder," said Canary, anger struggling to be contained in her quivering voice. "Sarge?" "That's how it works, if it's serial. Nothing you nor I can do. There's a murderer, or a group of them, out there somewhere, and the only clues that we can get are the ones they leave us at the scene. We just don't have enough information to do anything about it right now." Canary stamped the ground angrily, letting loose some soil from between the cracks in the pavement. She was furious. "Sarge." "Not now, Berry!" "SARGE!" Canary was pulled back into reality with that sudden outburst. It was shocking enough that she let go of the strings of fury that held her within the thought, and came bobbing back to the surface, for just enough time to let Berry give her a verbal slap across the face. "N... now Sarge, I know how you can get, and... and... listen here!" her subordinate started. "There's nothing we can do about it... and what you said is true! We... we are doing the best we can, and we have the best people working on it. People like you, and Silver, and everyone else down at the station... and... and... you can't... you can't go off like that because..." Berry felt that Canary was going to leap across the road and strangle her. But yet, she swallowed it down and continued. "Because that's what we do. And no matter what happens, we have to see it through, and find who did this. And you can't think when you're angry, and you get angry at such things. I know. I know. I'd get angry too. Bad... bad things happen, Canary, and we sometimes feel powerless to do anything, and sometimes we... we feel that we're lost because... we can't do anything to stop it yet. "But if you really want to stop this... if you really want to stop this... then you'll control your anger, and be the Canary that was the reason why I joined the force!" She stopped. There was nothing but crickets now. Even Silver was wise enough to bolt at earliest convenience, and the library remained still. "Uh... Sergeant, sir!" she added, clicking her heels. "Berry..." Canary said, much softer now. "I will accept my reprimand, ma'am!" "Berry... shut up." She looked down at her hooves. This uniform that she wore, what it meant, everything that she stood for, and how, two years ago, she wanted this. She wanted this more than anything in the world. And here she was, and she had to deal. She didn't deal with things in the right way, sometimes, but that's why you needed a Berry around. "Berry?" She said, after a moment passed. "Yes, Sarge?" she replied. She sounded meek. Scared. "Get the books, and with whatever space you have left in your bags, I want you to stuff full of cupcakes. We're going back to the station, and we're going to catch the little mare flankers who did this." "Yes, ma'am!" she said, getting to work, smile and bounce returning with a vengeance. "We'll leave now. By the time we get back, it'll be late. We'll take the shortcut through the park." "Yes, ma'am!" "And Berry..." "Yes, ma'am?" "... nothing. Let's go." ,---(*< ~---, '---------------'   The lights were flashing on and off and on and off like a parade, and the music was heavy. There was a repetitious beat, a tune that was simplistic in nature but folded over itself in spades before any sort of refrain was in sight, and lyrics that simply did not make any sense. I mean, come on, the answer to 'love' is not a rhetoric, and even if it were, a plea for the release of physical pain is a really bad metaphor. Despite this, Duriandal really could, well, understand the music. A tad on the loud side, a bit pounding maybe, but it had a clear 4/4 timing and it knew what it was doing. This was music you could count to. Everything was sorted neatly into packages which was delivered to you right at the end of every staff, and you were never left wondering when things were going to change as most of the 'modern' music did. But this crowd, yuck, it was something she just couldn't stand. She struggled to remain out of reach of the ponies squeezing past her as much as possible, trying her best not to touch anypony else. She did not enjoy that part. At least it faded as she ended up in the main area of the club, a lively, bouncing place with a huge open dance floor and a very generously decorated bar just up some steps from it. The area was decked out on the inside as it was on the outside; with strange, dark geometric shapes and thin beams of light that just screamed 'le Pouze' at you, whatever that was. But she had to agree that if anything was pouzey, this was as pouzey as you could possibly get. The room was very dark, but that was only to accentuate the glowing trimming that each side table had, and also this immensely wonderful ball that hung in the center of the room, right above the dancing area. What was that? It glittered and bounced coloured light off... Duriandal took her eyes away. She could feel herself locking up just looking at the thing. Death ball. Evil nasty death ball. The dance floor was immediately condemned and deemed off limits as well. It was just a swathing, huge wave of ponies, all with strange sorts of clothing and these sticks that glowed, Unicorn, Pegasus and Earth alike all gathered in their masses. They were performing something that could vaguely be called dancing, if dancing meant jumping up and down in generally the same area while nodding your head rapidly and trying very hard not to trod on somepony else's hoof. Not to mention it was crowned by the death ball. Well, she'd have none of that, thank you very much. It was bad enough here with... hey! Watch out, what are you doing? Oh, don't touch me, please, it hurts, it hurts like fire. She was swept up in the crowd of ponies who found opportunity in a whopping two foot square of space on the dance floor and rushed to claim it as their jumping spot, but had conveniently left an opening at the bar. The bar wasn't any different than the rest of the club in terms of decor. The countertop was lacquered black, and it was slightly lowered such that one could have your body caressed by the bean bags that were placed equidistantly around the circumference of the bar area, and still be able to perch upon the bar top. It was rectangular, not the best of shapes, but it'd do. There were two bartenders tending each corner of the drinks station, standing in a lowered portion of the room such that they could be face to face with their customers. In the middle of the bar was a lit-up column of bottles of every size and shape and name, and Duriandal couldn't help but compare it to the set-up that she had in her own store. She nodded to herself. She did, indeed, approve. But she needed some space. There was this faint scent in the air coming from the smoke machines that she immediately identified as a 2:4 mix of Gaultheria Procumbens and Mentha Spicata, and she focused on that as she went around the edge of the bar to the bean bag in the furthest corner. It seemed cozier there, and she did not at all observe the fact that most of the patrons in that area were seated alone. She did, however, notice that the smell hanging around in the air changed to Rosa Damascena. How very odd. "Hey, what can I get the lonely lady?" said the handsome young Earth pony bartender, as Duriandal settled into her bag, a bit awkwardly. "Um..." she hummed. "I do not know. This is my first time at your establishment." "Not to worry, got a menu," he pulled one out from under the bar and slapped it on the table, "Right here." Duriandal slid it toward herself with a tentative hoof, taking note of the arrangement of columns of drinks on the laminated, letter paper-sized menu, giving it a quick flip to check if there were - and there were - drinks printed on the reverse as well. She looked at each side once, and then slid the menu back to the bartender, who hadn't even had time to turn away. "Made up your mind already?" he said, jovially. "No." "Ah... well... then... don't you want to look over the drinks list a bit longer?" "I have memorized the menu, thank you." The pony backed up, tilting his head in disbelief. "Really." "Yes, really." "Alright, I'll bite," his eyes running down the drinks. "What's between... Sunset Marmalade and Cherry Bonanza?" She tapped her hoof on the counter three times. Slowly at first. Three times, third column. And then it started to get rapid as she tapped another nine times to go down nine names in the list until she hit Sunset Marmalade; a concoction that will have you knowing about the Sweetness of day-end. And one more tap. "Orange Pekoe Burst. A gentle fusion of Orange Pekoe tea and Orange liqueur to give you that amazing harmony of flavour," she read off the menu. "Huh!" exclaimed the bartender. "Come on, tell me the truth, you've been here before, haven't you?" "No." "Did Chocolate Cream put you up to this?" "I do not know the pony you speak of," she smiled slightly. This was a strange new sensation; being proud of her ability in a place which didn't really call for it. "Well... that's pretty amazing," stated the Bartender, stunned. "You know, I'd buy you that Orange Pekoe Burst, but it's against policy." "Oh, the offer is not necessary," said Duriandal, wondering just what he would want to treat her to a drink for, anyway. "But I... notice that you are an Earth pony." "Last time I checked, yeah." "Is it hard?" "Is what hard?" "Being here, amongst Unicorns, and having to do the same thing as them." "You know, I hadn't really thought about it," replied the bartender, wondering about the strange question. But he obliged, as polite as any other pony in the service industry. "But you do bring up an interesting point. I'm the only Earth pony bartender here, but... and I don't want to row my own boat here, but... I'm the best mixer in the house." "Really?" it was Duriandal's turn to be surprised. "Yeah, absolutely. Always get the best tips, always have customers call on me by name just to get that perfect Melon Sling, and I guess... you just got lucky tonight," he dripped charisma, all of which bounced off Duriandal and crept around the floor in search of acceptance. Almost if he had read Duriandal's mind about what she wanted to know next, he continued. "And I don't think I put in any extra effort into it, or anything. I guess it's just something I'm good at, and that's that, even if it means I have to shake with my mouth instead of by magic. And some would claim that's what makes their drink. The Earth pony touch, you know?" "I suppose I see," Duriandal said. "So what can I get you and that beautiful mind of yours?" "I do not know." "But you know the whole menu." "Yes... but... I do not know what anything is." "So when you said it's your first time..." "It is my first time, yes." "Alright. Stepping out on Singles Night. I can respect that," he nodded repeatedly. "So I guess we oughta start you off on something light, then?" "That might be a good idea," agreed Duriandal. "Ok, I got just the thing. Also, since you're new to the whole scene, I'll drop a tip. Take your time with the drink. It's a convo starter, not something to make you fly. I assume you're not here to dance, so if you're looking for bangers you're in the wrong part of the house." Duriandal had no idea what he said, but she nodded anyway, thanking him for the advice. The only thing she had understood completely was that she was to take her time with the drink. Possibly she would. She needed to stretch time out and wait for Blitz to return, anyway, assuming she would. Was she going to return? Maybe she made an excuse to leave and then just left. It wouldn't have been the first time somepony's done that to Duriandal, and Duriandal just took it as it came. But anyway, new experiences! And it wasn't one second that the bartender walked off before a voice came ringing out from the seat next to hers. "I dunno if that's just a really good act, or you're actually just some kind of weirdo, but either way, nice routine." She turned suddenly, stiffly, in her bean bag, nearly falling over thanks to the unstable nature of the seating, to gaze upon the one bestowing such odd compliment to her. It was a pony, a Pegasus, in these stylish sunglasses that were obviously worn for the look rather than the function. They were oval, and rather flat, with silver rims and pink tint, and the pony peered over them, giving Duriandal the one-over. She was as black as night. Practically black all over, the only things sticking out being her glasses and her bi-coloured mane, which alternated hues of blue in stripes as they came out and across her face. She was also wearing a very small white coat, the kind with the fuzz on the end, and too small to actually button up, and some sort of designer spats that had little encrusted jewels in them. Her clothing alone befuddled Duriandal. Nothing this pony wore made sense. The distant beat of the drums changed pace as the song shifted into the next in the mix. The rules repeated themselves through Duriandal's head. Introduction. Commentation. Reciprocation. "And you have very nice... clothing," replied Duriandal. The black-winged pony stuck her neck out at Duriandal, studying her inquisitively. "You're serious, aren't you?" Disbelief. Affirmation. Confirmation. "Yes. I am serious about your nice clothing." "Oh boy," said the mystery guest. "We have a winner here, don't we?" Inquiry. Accomplishment. Erudition. "Is... there some sort of contest that I should be aware of?" "Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy," that other pony in the silly clothes was laughing. "Ok. Empty your mind." "Excuse me?" "Empty your mind. Just... clear it. think of nothing. Think of something else. Anything else." "I don't..." "Boy, that song has a great beat to it, doesn't it?" "It has a well structured..." "I wonder when the drinks will get here." "Well, the barten..." "Do you know how to get to Celestia's castle?" "I do no..." "Quick, what do you want to ask me?" "Who are you and why are you talking to me!?" Duriandal blurted out. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" smirked the dark shadowy figure, as she sunk back into her bean-filled pod. "Just gotta know when not to know what not... to know... when... something." "... who are you?" repeated Duriandal. "Name's Night Flare, since ya asked," she leapt out of the chair again, leaning forward and to the side, and sticking a hoof out as an offering of friendship. Duriandal stared down at the hoof as if it were covered with bugs. "Um..." "Not a shaker, that's fine, I can dig that," she withdrew her leg, "so, you gotta tell me, who put'cha up to this?" "What... do you mean?" "I mean who was the genius who sent you into a nightclub, thoroughly underdressed I might add, on Singles Night?" "My friend..." "Ain't no friend," Flare sat back, in brazen pride. "Ain't no friend who'd do something this mean." "Mean?" "Well yeah! I mean, you're totally out of your element. You don't have to be a genius to see that," she propped herself forward again. Duriandal wish she'd just pick a posture and stick with it. "I dunno about you, and I don't wanna be harshin' on your friend, but it seems pretty mean to me." "No, she is not like that. This is some kind of mistake." "Alright, chief, if you say so. Didn't catch your name, by the way..." she offered a hoof again. There was pause as the bartender dropped the drink on the countertop with a wink and walked off to tend other parts of the bar. "Duriandal." "Well, miss Duriandal, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she withdrew the leg. Duriandal was just confused now. Confused by a lot of things, and the environment wasn't very conducive to deep thinking. There was this voice in her ear that wouldn't keep quiet and kept on saying things that... made a lot of sense, really, but couldn't possibly be true... and she was being really pushy and this was new because she had never been in the position where someone was trying to talk to her against her wishes. It was kind of an odd sensation. She had yet to decide if she enjoyed it or not. She took a sip of the drink. It felt warm and runny down her throat. It had apples in it, definitely. That was about as far as she got. Duriandal blew a bit of air out of her mouth like a child trying to learn how to whistle, vapours streaming past her tongue. "So, that was a neat trick with the memory thing. Tell me how you did it. Go on." said the voice again. "I memorized the menu." "No, really, how'd you do it? Mirrors? You got a copy of the menu somewhere on you?" She suddenly came to a sudden realisation that made her perk up. "You guys aren't playing me are you? Am I on some kind of show?" "I memorized the menu." "Couldn't possibly. In like what, half a minute?" "I memorized the menu." "Prove it." "I do not believe I am required to show you proof." "No you don't, but, oh come on, there isn't anything else to do, right? It'll be really easy if you're all that, go on!" Duriandal sighed. Again, she was correct. There was nothing else to do. Nothing that a pony like Duriandal would remotely call 'do-able' in a nightclub, anyway. "Very well." "Ok ok. I'm gonna name a whole buncha things and you're gonna repeat them back at me, aight?" "This will not work." "Why not? Memory feeling weak?" she jostled. "Because even if I do remember the sequence, you yourself might not." "Oh ow, burn!" Flare threw her forelegs up in the air. "But you gotta point. Gotta point. Ok ok, how about this. No wait, that won't work either..." "How about," Duriandal suggested. "You retrieve a menu, and I read the first ten drinks off the list. If I get them all correct, will you concede and leave me alone?" "That's a... that's a great idea," Flare said, putting emphasis on the sentence. "I shoulda thought of that, really. Ok, agreed, but only to the first part." "What do you mean?" "I might not wanna leave you alone." "I do not require your company!" "Woah, woah, hey hey," Flare cringed and made the universal 'keep your voice down' leg motions. "Don't wanna be yelling that in this kind of place on this night, yeah?" "Ok, listen," she bargained. "I know... I can be a bit... overwhelming sometimes, but just get to know me, alright? I'm cool, I promise. I'm totally straight up legit. I'm just enjoying myself, and honestly, I think you should be too. I wasn't kidding about the jerk who put you in here, but doesn't mean you can't make the best of it, right?" "You... know this place well?" "Yeah, sure, come here all the time. 'Specially on Tuesdays, you get in free." "Alright. I will... consider what you have said." "Yeah you do that, and while you do..." she stuck up a leg "Waiter, menu please!" Duriandal sighed to herself. It was going to be a long night. --- Flare and Duriandal stumbled out of the club, together, Duriandal preferring to stick close to the wall just in case she had to lean on it for a while. Her head was spinning. She only had three drinks but that last one was a kick in the flank. Amazingly though, her mind was quiet. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't thinking. The busy roads that infested her thoughts lay abandoned, and where once it was a busy thoroughfare with 24 hour traffic, it was now a quiet lane in the countryside, with the odd cart passing by without a touch of sound. This was good but not good, because anytime she did think of anything, which was necessary sooner or later, she felt like throwing up. Flare was pretty much normal for her usual self, if not even more talkative than usual. Her eyes were half-closed though, but it was pretty late and she had quite a few more drinks than Duriandal had. "Look, dude, Duriandal," she said, poking her in the chest. Duriandal didn't even care about that anymore. "You're cool. Ok? You're really weird, but you're super cool. And that freaky-flank memory of yours? Wooooooooooo!" She screamed at the night. "I'm telling you, that bartender was totally into you, you know that?" It was a one-sided conversation. Duriandal just stood there along the outer wall of the club trying to hold it together. "But hey... I know where you live now... I'll come visit one of these days, yeah? Sounds... pretty cool, I mean, even I could use some... uh... perfume once in a while." Duriandal thought that she was still in the bar, but she realised the pounding in her head wasn't the music. It did keep steady 4/4 beat though. "I really... really need a shower. So I'm gonna take off, maybe get some fresh air, take in the night, you know." Duriandal decided it would be a really good time to sit down. "Uh... yeah, you... you'll be alright," she looked at the bouncers still standing guard. "Just don't wander off, ok?" Duriandal held up a hoof to say yes. Oh colt it felt like her hair was melting. Was her hair melting? "... aight. You take care, dude." And Flare shuffled off into the night, heading toward some alone time. ,---(*< ~---, '---------------'   Overhead, one shadow split into two. Overhead, something dropped, and something else soared on, racing through the wind. Overhead, not a sound could be heard except the rushing tides of fate. --- Down below, something struck a pony. Down below, a lonely traveller was cut short. Down below, the tides of fate hit the cliffs and exploded into a million drops.   "FREEZE!" yelled Canary. The whole scene, shrouded in darkness, trees and grass in the background, and playground equipment, stood still as the tick of the clock wore down the action. Berry pulled out a flare from her bag, cupcakes exploding out as she yanked it from the bottom. Canary's horn burst into life as she showed off just what her special ability was. In the distance, a lonely figure ran for her life, but was cut short as rings of magical energy erupted around her ankles and wings. They felt like magnets, and pull them together, hoof to hoof, wingtip to wingtip, halting her movements and sending her sprawling painfully to the ground. In between them lay a body, and a small paper bag. Canary ran up to the pony who was beating a hasty retreat. She was covered in blood, apparent on the stark whiteness of her jacket. Already, the flare was up in the sky, signalling a retrieval. "I said freeze," Canary stated, standing over the moon-lit figure. "I didn't do nothing," cried Night Flare. "I didn't do nothing!" CHAPTER 1: END MEZZO The sky crackled to life as lighting gave shape to surroundings, and thunder roared out the sound of pouring rain. They both lasted only a second, but that was enough for the farmer to get his bearings. He'd known the area for many years, but even so, it was still foreign in the dark. It was still frightening. Why wouldn't it, though? Does a fisherman know the length and breadth of the sea? Does a carpenter know every plank of wood? He was lost in his own orchard. The mud caked up on his legs, weighing him down, as he pushed through and around peach trees, struggling to maintain his pace and his balance. The lightning crackled again. The farmer stumbled, and fell, hitting his head hard on an empty barrel. Dizziness overcame him, as he lay gasping for air in an inch of water, as the torrents hailed down from the skies. And there it was. The figure crept up to him. Eyes blazing red, walking above the mud and water and muck, each step careful and poised. It smiled. There were breaks in the smile, as if it were a mouth that had not been fully formed; skin stretching over the teeth in places. And when it closed its mouth it looked like the mouth wasn't even there. It could have been just the farmer's imagination. It could have just been a trick of the night, or a blink of the eye, but there wasn't much left to the farmer's imagination. The pony, or something much like it, stepped up to the farmer, and peered into his soul. And then there was a scream. A figure in a cloak flew in, mere minutes later, landing where the farmer had been. The figure looked around, surveying the scene, and all that was to be seen in the night. Beneath the figure's hooves lay the body of the farmer, collapsed upon itself in foul mockery of life. It looked as though it was reaching out toward a tree to grab something. Rather, his leg was propped up upon a tree, a tree which, when the lighting took once again, showed three sides to a box, and two angles to a roof, upside down, and drawn in mud, around the hoof-print of the farmer. The figure merely looked morose. There was no time for pity to be had. Others would come soon. Others would be preparing for their fates. And the figure took off, leaving the farmer alone with the trees. END MEZZO