//------------------------------// // Chapter 17: “Don’t believe everything Canterlot tells you, darling..." // Story: The Ghost of Coltistrano // by EthanClark //------------------------------// Silver pulled the mask from his face in a huff. Sweat dripped from his brow and muzzle, his heart beating like a wardrum in his chest as he scanned the streets below, searching for his target. The rooftop he sat on was a ways away from the palace, which shone like a beacon in the night, and far enough to escape the inevitable search parties Shield Wall would send after him. The gala had been arduous for him, the battle even more so, and the memory of meeting all his friends and enemies in one place only made his heart quicken. He didn’t even notice the smile plastered on his face. A familiar aroma broke Silver from his musings, wafting from a small building only a block away. His stomach growled at the scent of sweet and savory that invaded his senses. It took a moment, but he finally recognized where he had made his perch as he noticed other ponies making their way out of the various doors lining the street, some carrying small boxes and conversing with each other, oblivious to the night’s events. He had landed in Canterlot’s ‘Restaurant Row’, and the very notion reminded him just how hungry the fight had made him. A second growl came, but this time not from Silver. “Hey, dweeb!” A scratchy voice shouted from behind him.  Silver turned toward the source of the noise and came face to face with the immaculately dressed gryphon from the gala. Gilda, however, also sported a furious expression as she closed the distance between them. Silver raised his hoof, wearily, and waved at her. “Gilda, woah… how’s it going?” “Where have you been!” She swatted Silver’s hoof down and glared at him. “You didn’t think to tell me you hadn’t been arrested by General Tightwad before I went looking for you?” “Well, you could say I… ghosted him.” Silver smirked before the irritated gryphon whipped her claw across his forehead. He let out a pained laugh in response. “You’re an idiot,” she asserted. “I thought they were putting you in a cage.” “Aw, you do care,” Silver said, earning a blush from the gryphon. “I like your wings. Very expensive looking.” “Y-You’re just saying that to get to me.” “You know me too well,” Silver said before turning back to the street below. Gilda took a moment to recover before walking to his side, careful to protect her dress from the dusty rooftop before resting beside him. “So… what are we looking for?” “Despite the will to resist snagging somepony’s to-go box, I picked up Serenade’s trial after escaping the gala. He should be somewhere here.” “You’re still gunning for this guy? I thought you took care of him back in Coltistrano.” “I did, but if I get him to talk then I get my life back.” “Yeah,” Gilda sighed. “If General Tightwad doesn’t kill him first.” “That’s what I’m trying to avoid. I find him first, then I can keep him safe long enough for a trial.” “Really?” Gilda turned to look at Silver, a condescending smirk on her face. “You really think they’ll let you even get close to a trial? Wasn’t there something about them controlling the courts?” “The princesses can overrule the chief magistrate’s decision. Once they see Serenade-” “Beaten and bruised and held against his will,” Gilda interrupted. “And his testimony, then they’ll be willing to hear me out.” “More like ‘wring you out’. I don’t think even the pretty pony princesses are too keen on listening to a masked weirdo who beats ponies up.” “Well… I mean,” Silver stammered, searching for the right words to combat his growing doubt. “Well, what would you have me do?”  “I don’t know, stop him, I guess? I don’t particularly love Griffonstone, but it’s my home and I don’t want it going to war with Equestria.” “I will stop him, but my life needs saving, too.” “Your old life,” Gilda tensed. “The life you left behind six years ago.” “I didn’t leave it behind!” Silver snapped at Gilda, his muscles tense. “It was taken from me by that monster! Don’t say it like I had a choice!” “Then why didn’t you tell your marefriend?” Her tone was far calmer, but still firm as the question burrowed in Silver’s mind. “W-Well, I… it’s not th-... she’s in danger. I can’t risk her knowing I’m back.” “Even though it’s what you want?” Silver was speechless. He did want it, he felt it back at the gala when he was finally within reach of Abby. The image of her, now six years older, mingled with the memory of her crying on the balcony, cradled in Cadence’s embrace. It was a bitter emotion, if there ever was one. Gilda could see the change in Silver and gave a long sigh. “Look,” she said, softly. “I’m bad at the mushy stuff, but you need to hear this. You need to because… well, because I c-care, and it’s your fault that I care. I’m sure Darrox gave you some boring speech about winning your world back, or some crap like that, but Darrox never had a world. He had that cape. You, Silver, you actually had a life, and from the sound of it you had it pretty good until it all went to the dogs. Now you’re roped into this craziness fighting the war of some geezer. I know he means a lot to you, but… maybe he’s wrong.” “He’s given me so much,” Silver said, finally. “How can he be wrong?” “Because you didn’t out Shield Wall and his goons when you were standing in front of a princess? Because you didn’t believe your friends and the mare you love would back you up? I don’t know, dude, it just looks like you’re playing by his rules.” Silence took over the conversation again. Silver held his gaze on the streets below, still searching, but deep in thought. Gilda fumbled her talons over themselves and after a few moments more she scooted closer to Silver then, hesitantly, placed a claw over his hoof. “Dude, I… ugh, this is so gross… I want you to, you know, be… happy.” The last word came out with an almost painful grunt as a few of Gilda’s feathers ruffled beneath her violet gown. She looked down, avoiding any more emotional investment in her already embarrassing display, before jolting at the sensation of Silver’s other hoof covering her claw. “You’re right, Gilda,” Silver said, his eyes on their entwined limbs. “You are bad at this.” She shoved her other claw into Silver’s face as the two laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Silver spotted an ice blue shape coming out of one of the cabarets. He ceased his laughter and watched intently as the pony continued down the street and into one of the alleyways. Silver stood and pulled the mask over his face. “That’s him. If I can snag him I can get some answers.” “Still going through with that?” Gilda was met with Silver’s smile as he turned back. “He’s still valuable, Gilda, and I can use him as leverage against Shield Wall if it comes to that. Head back to the ship, I’ll catch up.” Gilda’s expression fell until she felt a firmness wrap around her. Her eyes shot open to see Silver hugging her, forelegs wrapped around her fluffy neck and careful not to damage the dress. He pulled away and, with a final smirk, dove off the building and glided into the same alleyway. Gilda watched as he vanished into the darkness before a scream rang out. A laugh burst forth from her before she, too, flapped her wings and flew off in the direction of the harbor. -- Rarity twirled a hoof through her mane as she sat beside the door leading out to her boutique’s balcony. Her eyes, forced open by a regular administration of the coffee beside her, followed the skyline of the city as she searched for a single pony. It was a long shot, almost a leap of faith, that the mysterious marauder would answer her summons. Even now, after the rush of emotions had left her, there was still a twisted knot in her chest. The excitement of the gala earlier had done nothing for her nerves as she twirled faster.  From within the cluttered room behind her, beneath a sparkling opal-colored gown, she brought her notebook to her side. Keeping her eyes on the sky a quill rose to a blank page. Well, I was right. An interrupted night of ceremony and celebration I’m used to and, regretfully, I can say the same for being threatened and accosted like a common damsel. But never, in all my years, would I have expected the display I witnessed tonight. It was exhilarating, harrowing, and positively breathtaking. He was breathtaking. The way he saved Fancy Pants from that cretin, not to mention rescuing yours truly from the grasp of such devilry. Though, this will only complicate my investigation. A pony standing up for the abused and victimized is all well and good, but I’m not so sure the EUP will respond kindly to the knowledge of a masked hero stalking the streets of Canterlot. They will increase security. They will restrict visiting hours to priority-only meetings. It’s possible that, after all this, my investigation will be put on hold. And to think I kissed him, as if to thank him for making my life even more complicated. Typical Rarity. What perplexed me most wasn’t the caped pony’s entrance, but actually Vice General Shield Wall’s response to it all. I’m curious if the- “Miss.” Rarity jolted at the foreign word entering her bubble of concentration, sending the notebook and quill into the air and scrambled to stay upright. Two tendrils reached out from the edge of the balcony and pulled the flying objects to their source before stepping down. “Good heavens!” Rarity pushed her mane out of her face, blushing. “Hasn’t anypony told you to announce yourself before entering?” “I thought I did,” the Ghost said as he returned the objects. She snatched them from his grasp, floating them onto a side table. “In any case, I thank you for coming at my request. I’m sure you’re quite exhausted from tonight’s… um, festivities.” “That’s a kind way to put it.” The Ghost offered a small smile, one Rarity hesitated in returning. “Did you need me for something? Your request was a little…” “Hurried?” Rarity suggested. “Yes. Please forgive me, I was so caught up in the moment and… well, it is not everyday one can witness a neerdowell subdued by large crystal bowls. You understand, I’m sure.” “Of course.” The air stood still between them, with the Ghost’s lips still curved into a smirk. Rarity gave a polite sigh and spoke in the most official tone she could muster in an attempt to break the awkward pressure she felt weighing down on her. “Well, I called you here because I feel we have something of a common cause. I know it was you in Shield Wall’s office that night. I can only conclude that you, too, suspect something fishy is going on within his department.” Rarity brought the notebook back to her, suspending it in the air. “I have been tasked by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to collect evidence on anypony involved in a conspiracy that has rooted here in Canterlot, and I suspect you have a similar mission. Am I correct?” “Quite astute, miss, but who is to say that I am not a part of this corrupt cabal of conspirators you hunt?” “Call it a hunch,” she returned. “Were you truly of a nefarious sort, I doubt you would take the time to go the lengths you did tonight.” “For the sake of the illusion, then,” the Ghost said, teasingly. “These are dangerous ponies you’re dealing with, miss, and they could be capable of anything.” “Like drawing attention to themselves dressed in flowing black garb?” The Ghost could only smile at Rarity’s quick wit. It was hard for him to not give away too much of his excitement at discovering the mysterious mare from the other night was the same dressmaker who so passionately dragged him to a spa day. Instead, the Ghost held his little smirk as he approached Rarity from the edge of the balcony. “You’re certainly more than just the dressmaker ponies say you are,” he said as he gazed into her eyes. “Ha!” Rarity restrained the outburst and fought to contain her amusement. “Don’t believe everything Canterlot tells you, darling… wh-what have they told you?” “Oh, only the most wonderful of things, miss,” he teased further. “I might even share a little with you if you share a little with me.” “Hmm…” she cooed, raising a playful eyebrow. “As you wish, but I don’t share this information lightly. You can be trusted, yes?” “Of course.” “Good…,” Rarity said as she composed herself. “I believe Shield Wall, one of the vice generals, is in collusion with members of Canterlot nobility for some devious purpose. I’m not sure what, though.” “You’re right,” the Ghost said, plainly. “I am? I mean, of course I am, which would mean that Chief Magistrate Midnight Gavel is a co-conspirator.” “Right again.” “The two could do unspeakable things with their combined influence, but I haven’t any solid evidence against them. Unless… you know something I don’t.” “Like how he’s lost all support for his scheme?” “He has?” Rarity looked to the black-clad pony in shock. “If that’s true, then what could be accomplished? Perhaps they’ve gone into splinter groups, or have become warring parties.” “I wouldn’t think that,” the Ghost began. “Shield Wall is still very much in charge. Before you arrived at his office I was able to eavesdrop on a conversation between him and his cohorts: Gavel, who you know, and a pony named Serenade.” “Should I know him, too?” “Yes. He’s been operating outside of Canterlot as Shield Wall’s criminal liaison and governs most of the gangs in eastern Equestria.” “Oh, goodness,” Rarity said with a stern pout, bringing a hoof to her chin. “To think his influence had spread so far. Do you know how long this conspiracy has been in play?” “Over twenty years.” “T-Twenty years? Why, with that kind of time he could’ve infiltrated every level of Canterlot’s infrastructure, and he apparently has. But what caused the divide?” “I don’t know, I was hoping you may be able to fill me in on what’s going on with the nobility.” “Well, they haven’t always been a cooperative bunch.” Rarity finally turned back to her seat and rested, taking up her coffee again. “Fancy Pants is usually my go-to for all gossip and stories of intrigue, but he’s been very quiet the past few days. You don’t think… could Fancy be a part of all this?” “It makes sense. I’ve never met the stallion, but I doubt he was pulled from the crowd for a public execution by chance. Maybe he was the one who instigated the split with Shield Wall, and that’s why he was targeted at the party. This is how Shield Wall operates.” “What do you mean?” Rarity tilted her head at the Ghost’s comment. The cloaked figure remained silent. There was a struggle within to tell Rarity everything, to let all the bottled up anger and sadness out in a single wash of relief. Instead, though, he resisted the urge to show any emotion and spoke plainly. “He’s been committing crime after crime for decades, all for the purpose of starting a war. Everything he does is done for that goal, alone, and he wouldn’t let Fancy get in the way of that.” “Pfft, of course it’s a war.” Rarity sipped her coffee. “That’s all any of the General’s Board talk about is war. I’ve interviewed every one of them, even the Warmaster, and it’s the same story. Stratos couldn’t be more for it.” “Vice General Stratos?” “You know her?” “Of her, yes,” the Ghost said, quicker than he intended. “She was on a short list of possible conspirators, along with Gavel and Serenade. Together, they plan to stage a war with Griffonstone.” “Using the ships at Horseshoe Bay, correct?” For once, the Ghost lacked any response and stared at Rarity as she took another long sip from her coffee cup. She looked to him, paused, and realized the situation. The cup clacked against the side table as she continued. “In my investigation, I had requested all documentation about certain operations of interest to be prepared and delivered to me from the EUP offices. Naturally, one would suspect that if there were any misdealings they would do their best to cover it up, namely by not including the paperwork detailing the voyage schedules for the vessels under Shield Wall’s command.” “So how did you get them?” “I picked them up in person… a day early.” Rarity took a triumphant sip from the mug. “You should’ve seen how frantically they were rushing around the office. Just one glance of a pretty mare with ‘royal authority’ and those bold colts in armor would do simply anything.” A smile was all the Ghost could give to contain the raucous laughter fighting to escape. He knew all too well how true Rarity’s words were as images of his service flooded his mind, bringing with them memories of long guard routes and more than a hoofful of pretty mares flirting with the soldiers. A soft chuckle broke through the smile. “They would, wouldn’t they?” “Indeed,” Rarity giggled. “Needless to say, a host of sensitive things made it through to me that probably shouldn’t have. Much was in a jargon I couldn’t hope to understand, but there was an interesting document detailing reassignments to Horseshoe Bay. Dozens of soldiers, all under the command of Shield Wall, himself.” The Ghost rubbed his mouth with a gloved hoof. His pondering left Rarity in a bubble of silent tension, left to fiddle with her mug and almost watch the gears turning behind the Ghost’s obscured face. She tried to speak, but instead elected to drain her mug and not break the silence. “They’re not soldiers,” he said, almost a whisper. “I beg your pardon?” “The ponies deployed to Horseshoe Bay, they’re not soldiers. Shield Wall’s been sending his criminal agents all across eastern Equestria, rounding up riches from locals and recruiting to his cause. It’s all done under the guise of rival gangs, but make no mistake, he’s the one in charge.” “How could they not be?” Rarity leaned forward in her seat. “The deployment schedule went through official channels. Why would Shield Wall feel the need to inform others of his scheme?” “Because he’s under official review? Because if dozens of criminals disguised as soldiers suddenly appeared in Horseshoe Bay, all answering to him, he would have to explain himself. The lie would leave him vulnerable.” “So even though it’s a ruse, he still has to let the rest of the General’s Board know, even if they don’t actually know,” Rarity said, astonished, trying to sip from the already empty mug. “Exactly. He doesn’t have the authority to challenge the Warmaster, so he needs another way to transport large amounts of weapons, munitions, and horsepower across the country, and how better to do it than by using taxpayers’ bits? You put him in quite a jam.” “Me?” “Yes,” the Ghost replied. “You’re an Element of Harmony, sent on royal order to perform a sweeping investigation of the entire royal infrastructure. He can’t buy you, he can’t kill you, so the best he has is to do everything he can to keep you blind. Even then, it seems, he still can’t keep a secret from you.” Rarity puffed out her chest a bit, reveling in the praise. She gave a satisfied huff before standing to face her guest. She crossed the balcony, meeting his wispy black visage halfway. “Then there is only one question,” she said. “What do we do now? If Shield Wall is planning something horrible we have to stop him, and fast.” “We do, but thankfully we have time. His funds have all but dried up, most likely spending the last of them on the troop movements and the assassination. He won’t try anything until he has money.” “Thank heavens,” Rarity sighed. “But, what do we do in the meantime? We don’t have the foggiest of an idea when the attack is or who the target is.” “I may know somepony who can help.” The Ghost turned from Rarity. Her eyes followed his movements and trailed along his form, and as she did, she noticed a bolt of black fabric hanging off the edge of the balcony. It was attached to the Ghost and held taught. Before she had a moment to ask, the Ghost yanked hard on the black tendril and lifted a pony up and onto the balcony. He was a unicorn, ice blue and tied with a rag over his mouth, letting out muffled screams as hard as his lungs would allow as the black cloak uncoiled and returned to its owner. Rarity stood horrified before putting the pieces together. “Miss, meet Serenade, former member of the 22nd Recon Division and the malicious malefactor known to eastern Equestria as Plunder, crime-lord and murderer extraordinaire.” “Sir, I know you are quite proud of your work,” Rarity began, her eyes locked on Serenade. “But could you please explain to me why there is a hogtied pony on my balcony!” “Consider it a proper courting gift,” the Ghost teased. “A symbol of our newfound partnership. I picked him up because he is the single, most wanted pony in eastern Equestria and has intimate knowledge of all Shield Wall’s plans. Don’t worry, you won’t have to feed him, he’s coming with me.” Serenade shot the Ghost a menacing glare from the floor of the balcony. His efforts to escape were useless, though, as the Ghost merely chuckled at the display. Rarity, however, was busy fanning herself with her hoof in an attempt to keep her cool in such a deranged situation. She raised her muzzle, electing to focus on the sky, the stars, the chirps of Luna’s bats, anything to distract from the criminal act unfolding before her. “You say he knows Shield Wall’s plans?” “He certainly does.” “And you will be keeping hold of him?” “Not much room for two ponies in that room of yours, and unlike me, he’s not the cuddling type.” Rarity shot the Ghost a cold stare, but relented. She turned her back to Serenade and continued. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you just how illegal your methods are?” “Or how illegal Shield Wall’s are?” The Ghost returned Rarity’s question with a smirk. “Fair enough, but you’re not going to… dispose of him are you?” Her words caught Serenade’s frightened attention, causing him to whimper. “Of course not, he is far more valuable alive.” “Then…” Rarity hesitated on her next words. She took a final look at the Ghost and memories of the gala slipped into her mind. “Then I trust you. You tell me what he knows and I will create my report for the princesses. Agreed?” Rarity held out her hoof, only to be snatched up by the Ghost’s gloved one. He raised it to his lips and planted a single, gentle kiss upon it. “Agreed.” Rarity opened her mouth to speak, a blush on her face, but took a moment too long as the Ghost whipped around and mounted the balcony railing. He heaved Serenade over his shoulder before shooting Rarity one last glance, whipping a corner of his cloak out and swinging off into the night. She stood in awe of the display and strained to watch her newfound partner fade into the darkened streets. It took a second for Rarity to recover from the experience, but in time she returned to her seat and pulled the notebook to her, raising a quill again. I’m curious if the two have history or, at the very least, some common enmity for each other. Whatever the case, I can assure that this, thanks especially to recent events, may be the single most dangerous thing I have ever done.  When this is all over, I’m sticking to dresses.