Two : The Belltower
“Watching the world from here, I see everything. Nothing short of everything. High in the belltower far above the ground.” Rachel Rose Mitchell - Belltower
The thief and his rodent companion trotted through the still streets of Canterlot in the early morning gloom. The sun had not risen yet but the twilight just before the dawn was beginning to show over the horizon. A soft, early morning fog was beginning to roll through the streets which helped conceal the stallion as he padded along the cobblestone. His saddlebags sang a soft chorus of coins and gemstones as the items within clinked together. The saddlebags he wore were full of property that was now his. Missing his cloak, the arrows in their quiver were free to keep up with the beat of the song as he trotted.
Above in a nearby building a shutter door opened and a mare dumped a bucket of excrement out the window. The filth landed with a splatter on the ground below and splashed the stallion. He raised a hoof to his face and wiped the gunk off of before pulling down his soiled mask. Today was just not his day to stay clean.
“Gross” he said as he flicked it off of his hoof. He looked up and glared at the closing shutters, giving a soft snort before he continued trotting. Of course it was bad enough to have the substance in his boots, he had to have it on his head too. He felt Thief rigorously shake herself and furiously clean her face on his back.
He chuckled, “Got you too, eh?”
Rounding another corner of a building he hesitated for only a moment. Through the mist he could see a young mare who had her back to him as she lifted a scoop of manure in her shovel and dumped it in her almost full wheelbarrow. The town obviously had a sewage problem of sorts. As he got a bit closer to the purple pony he could see her brand, the sharp S scar that was so close to her cutiemark it replaced almost half of it. The mare had a chain that attached her to the wheelbarrow, forcing her to keep to her work. If she really wanted to cause trouble for him, the most she could do was call out but that was unlikely as slaves usually didn’t like to involve themselves in other pony’s affairs. She had a radio quietly playing beside her, the announcer, Smile Cat, repeating the last portion of the same news that was on earlier before music began pouring through the device. The buck was clearly not at his radio station and letting it play on a loop.
Ahead of him was a carpenter’s workshop and on the second story was a barbershop. The carpenter had a delivery of fresh wood left out front of the store and the thief saw it as a perfect way to get to the Thieves’ Highway above. Passing the mare, he put his forelegs on the top of the stack and pulled himself up. The mare momentarily stopped her work to watch him jump to the barber shop’s awning and up to the second floor window before sighing and hooking herself to the full wheelbarrow’s harness.
The buck skinned pony crouched low and looked around him. He had snuck into an office of sorts with a desk to his right and a door to his left. A typewriter and a half-drank bottle of whisky were on the desk. The papers that decorated the wooden surface were getting soaked in the drool of their author who was quietly snoring with the empty shot glass in his hoof.
Waiting a few seconds, he determined that the pony hadn't woken and crept over to the desk. The yellow stallion was writing a memoir. It was a bit difficult to make out the words because for some reason he wasn’t using the typewriter and he had very poor hoof-writing. Not to mention the wet parchment smeared the ink. Whatever part of the writer’s life he was recording, he apparently didn’t want to remember and was using the alcohol to help. The latest words were: That’s that and that’s that and that’s the end of that. You’re not getting any more out of me about that!
“Why write a memoir if you don’t want to say what happened?” the thief quietly commented before stealing the half bottle of liquor and making his way around the desk. He picked up the ink pen off of the floor and took the ink bottle from atop the desk. Moving next to the other stallion, he opened the drawers, being careful not to nudge the other pony awake and found nothing of interest but a few bits.
He walked to the door and looked through the keyhole. Not seeing anything but a wall he slowly opened the door and looked down the hallway. To his left was a set of stairs leading down to the ground level of the building and to his right was a couple more rooms. Creeping inside the first room he saw it was the pony’s bedroom. With the room being vacant, he let his sticky hooves roam the room, collecting a pair of ruby earrings, a pocket portrait, a teacup and a ten bit bond. The buck moved to the window and tried to nudge it open. To his dismay it was stuck. He made sure it wasn’t locked, took out a small crowbar and wedged it under the window. Wiggling the handle of the tool down gently he popped the window open with a sound of wood on wood that seemed louder than it should have been. With the sound of the window came the noise of clattering in the other room before shattering glass.
“It seems I woke the master of manes, best make my exit,” the stallion said to Thief as he climbed out the window and up to the roof of the building. Two arrows fell out of his quiver as he climbed the short distance and he grumbled at the loss of supplies.
Standing on the roof, he looked around him and saw the light of twilight was growing stronger, shining through the fog layer. Dawn was close. He could see the Smokey Mountains to the West, Cloudsdale to the North and the Everfree Forest to the South, hiding its occupants from the prying eyes of the authorities. His destination was East, however, but before that he had to go back to the train station.
As he made his way atop the buildings he could see that some ponies were lighting their lanterns for the morning, opening their shutters to let the morning in and leaving their homes to get an early start at the mills. In the south end of the city he could see the large smoke stacks rising above the houses, the furnaces within bellowing their thick black haze into the sky. Pegasai were already in the air trying to clean the smog away but they knew it was a never ending job unless the factories were shut down.
The buck skinned pony reached the roof of the apartments just before the city entrance gate and jumped down to the roof of the inn. The guards were once again making commotion outside the gate and he walked to the edge to listen in.
“Did you find them yet?” Clipboard mare asked.
“I believe Cocoa and Buttercream did but they are having difficulty extracting them from the building.” a mare guard responded.
“How are two guards not able to handle a couple of foals.” she spat, fluttering her wings. “Those children know the rules, their parents die, they refuse the work house and they are removed from the city.” She whipped her tail in frustration, “See that shift A is informed and assists so C can get some rest.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Another guard trotted up to Clipboard mare, “Ma’am,” he said with a salute, “Digger just reported another coffin birth last night.”
She sighed, “Great. Keep it under wraps, we don’t want the citizens worrying about omens and what not again. Can’t risk another panic. You know what to do if any pony finds out.”
The stallion nodded, saluted and trotted back into the city while Clipboard mare made notes on her documents.
“They sure are eager to kick kids out tonight.” the thief said to himself, “Wonder what’s got their hooves tied.” He looked to the command post but thought better of sneaking in for a peek at their reports. There were too many guards around and it was getting light out.
He dug a rope arrow into the side of the building and slid down the length. Casually, he trotted out to the steps as if he had just come from the inn and walked down the stairs, ignoring the looks from the guards.
As he made his descent, he noticed several blood stains that were not there before. He could imagine the young injured pony falling down them, unable to keep her balance with how sick she must have been. The buck continued to trot along, passing the now vacant bench where the two love birds were seated at the start of the night. Making a quick detour, he found an abandoned ring box under the bench which still held the piece of jewelry inside. Apparently either the date went horribly or somepony else forgot it there before the couple visited the bench last night.
Estuary Slums came into view as the sun’s rays slowly but surely began to peak through the gloom, cutting through the layer of clouds that surrounded the mountain. As he came to the entrance of the makeshift town, he noticed two large holes dug into the ground to his left that he didn’t see in the dark of night. They were deep and smelled of death. He was very glad the road mostly went around them and he hadn't fallen in.
Ponies were beginning to mingle about the camp, talking with one another, putting out the lanterns and getting ready for the day. Just outside of the town, the hooded pony came upon the crumpled form of the little grey filly. She lay still on the marble pathway, curled up with her swollen leg looking like a lead weight the foal could no longer lift. Puss oozed from the large old gash on her front left knee which seemed to be the origin of her gangrene. Her long, curly blue striped mane hid most of her face which was frozen in agony.
He swished his tail and continued on.
More ponies emerged from their shacks, tents and boxes. He could see many Earth ponies and Pegasai and even a couple unicorns. Most of the ponies here were visibly thin and very tired. A lot of them had coats that were rotting with fungus and falling out leaving angry bald patches or sores. There were fleas and biting insects everywhere. Only the very young had some kind of meat on their bones but it still wasn’t much at all. A few hobbled over to a larger cabin by the back wall, entered and exited with a couple cans of food. Next to the cabin was a mare cooking in a large pot, colts and fillies bringing her whatever they found that might be edible for the morning stew. The ponies who retrieve the canned food were spreading out amongst the camp to feed the sick, wounded or dying. An older colt gave his toy to a filly whose broke to stop her crying. Mares and stallions alike tended to the growth of mosses and mushrooms that grew in the cave. There were no guard ponies here, no slaves, no masters and no pony who wished ill intent on others. The ponies here were forced to depend on each other. They had to scrape a life for themselves out of Canterlot’s garbage and leftovers. Anything thrown out of the walls was theirs and they took it for all the village to share.
These ponies were no threat to the stranger who walked among them and he was no threat to them. Some watched him warily to see if he was a slaver looking for new stock. Others pushed their children inside or hid their trinkets from view, unwilling to trust an outsider. He received a passing glance from a group of five ponies talking in hushed tones.
“Will you be able to make it tonight?” A dark grey pegasus asked, brushing back his red striped mane out of his eyes. His howling wolf cutiemark showing under a ripped jacket.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll make the schedule. What about you? You’re going to be preoccupied if it’s savable.” A peach mare asked in response, pawing at the ground and tilting her head to the side.
“I have ponies for that.” The charcoal buck responded in an authoritative tone as he straightened and raised his head higher, “Besides, we have plenty of time. Find Dodge and Bean, they can help me prepare him for the journey.”
“Yes sir.” the peach mare saluted before walking away.
The stallion turned to another of his companions, a white colt wearing a tan scarf and a small blue shield shaped patch with a rearing yellow filly crudely sewn onto his dirty brown vest. “Do we know if Strata made it in?”
“Uh, yes sir.” the young pony said as he rubbed the scar on his muzzle, “He got in a couple of hours ago but no word on if he found what he was looking for yet.”
“Hmm.” the older stallion took a moment as he thought. “Alright but make sure you inform me once you get word of any news. If he gets into a tight spot I want to make sure he has a way out. We all know how, uh... eccentric he can be.”
“O-okay.” With that, the colt gave an awkward salute and ran off towards the Canterlot city entrance. The rest of the group of ponies split off in pairs to go begin whatever plans they were talking about.
The thief and his companion passed by the group just as they were starting to disperse. He slightly turned his head to watch them out of the corner of his eye. The mare and her companions went off among the camp while the red maned buck walked toward the marble path, glancing back at the buck skinned stranger with his dark plum eyes.
The stallion began to feel uncomfortable being out in the open for so long. He was used to being in the shadows and away from prying eyes. Galloping on the roof tops in the cold night air. Slipping in and out of apartment buildings and filling his saddle bags along the way. This town was nothing like the cities he preferred. Half of the so-called houses were made of mud or manure and most of them were falling apart. Some were made of sticks or old straw and large pieces of garbage thrown out by Canterlot. Broken down carriages abandoned by traders made the most sturdy shacks. Quite a few of the houses were decorated with trinkets, trash built art or string lights to try and make their home look less depressing to the eye. Unfortunately, nothing here was even worth the time it would take to steal.
His walk in between the shacks was somewhat slow-going. The place was set up with no sense of order being put together like a maze. The only saving grace of finding his destination was the roof of the ticket booth that was visible above it all. Several ponies were curled up and lying in the streets making the thief move around them. Moving through the town had been a lot easier when they were all asleep and not meandering around. Some of the ponies that lay in the streets had healthier ponies tending to their wounds or offering blankets to them. The ones who were coughing were left by themselves for fear they had the deadly plague. The sick and dying were extremely common in these parts of Equestria.
Medical ponies were few and far between not to mention they usually charged at least a foreleg and hind leg to even look at you and double it for any medications. Any doctor ponies that helped the poor were considered foolish with the bit inflation or were seen as the type to lose their patients to the cold bony hooves of death so they weren’t allowed to work on the wealthy folk who were obviously much more important. The ponies in this town did try to keep the dead off the streets as best as they could. The massive graves that were dug on the outskirts of the town were where the bodies of the fallen ponies were disposed of. The mass of corpses left a foul, sour stench to linger in the air of the cave. The stallion didn’t know why they didn’t just throw the bodies off the side of the mountain.
The only saving grace these ponies had to give them a break from it all was the freshwater of the waterfall close by that they had free access to. They didn’t often get to eat but at least they had clean water to drink. Until, that is, the ponies of Canterlot finally took notice and charged them a tax for its usage. They prayed that day would never come.
Just a couple feet away from the train station platform the stranger was stopped in his tracks by a mare who abruptly got in his way. She stood firm for only a moment before she began to shake in fear. He raised an eyebrow. She wore nothing but the many scars on her pink hide and her slave brand where her cutiemark had once been. Her white mane was pulled back with a mane tie and she was so skinny he could see her sides were caved in making her hips look large as they protruded from her small frame. Behind the fur wrapped bones were two little fillies trying to hide. At least they looked in better shape than their mother.
“I-I, um…” she said with a trembling breath. She swallowed before continuing, “P-please, some food sir. My f-fillies they-” She looked back to her daughters, the older one was a yellow Pegasus with a mane that looked as if it was once lavender but now it was caked in mud. The younger one was a dirty purple with some form of rainbow colors in her mane and tail. The children and their mother looked no better than the rest of the town, filthy, starving and covered in parasites. “They’re so hungry they’ve tried to eat the dirt. There’s not enough for the stew and I--”
The stranger backed up a step before walking around the trio, trotting up the wooden steps to the train platform.
As he passed her, the mare quickly crouched down in fear, expecting punishment for talking. She heard his hooves clop on the wood and looked up in surprise.
“I… W-wait!” she said as she stumbled over her hooves to follow him. When her fillies began to follow she waved them back. “I can pay,” she said as she got in front of him to stop him again. She put a warry hoof on his chest, “I can, maybe, um. I-I can... warm your, uh, bed tonight?”
She gave him her very best try at a confident and sexy smile as she raised her tail slightly. She obviously had no idea what she was doing other than trying to feed her family.
He took her hoof in his and moved it aside before continuing to the ticket booth for the train.
Her ears drooped and tears welled up in her eyes as she watched him go. Knowing she was defeated, she turned towards her children and began to walk slowly back to them.
The stallion glanced back to the trio before continuing on his way. He hated children, couldn’t stand the little monsters. Their big eyes, begging, always getting into things that they should really keep their sticky little hooves out of. And worst of all, they were always the ones who asked the most awkward of questions. ‘Just…keep walking’ he thought. He didn’t have any food on him anyways and the sight of them was just…
The former slave sighed before opening her mouth to speak to her children when she noticed a blur of yellow rush passed her. She turned her head back to see that her elder daughter was rushing to catch up with the stranger.
Seeing that her mother wasn’t getting any response from the stranger, the yellow filly flapped her wings as she ran to him. “Mister!” she said, “What about me? I can pay!” The young pegasus gritted her teeth and grimaced as she thought of what she was offering. “Please mister, we need food and if I can.. I-if I…” her voice wavered as she trailed off. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw him ignoring her. She had to earn food for her baby sister at least, she had to save what little family she had left to her name.
“Mister, please!” she begged. The filly grabbed onto one of his saddlebags to try and stop him but only managed to disturb the items and Thief within. Being quite full of stolen goods, the filly had accidentally dropped a small charm out of the bag.
The charm fell to the ground with a soft clang as it unsettled the dust on the wood below. The sound finally got the stallion to stop in his tracks and looked back. The filly was admiring the trinket. The casing that the gems were in was pure gold and it wrapped around a brilliant sapphire carved into the shape of a unicorn. Its eyes and nose were made of tiny diamonds along with a diamond necklace and crown that the unicorn wore. There was a hole at the top as if it was supposed to be worn on a string; the stallion’s eyes grew wide as he saw the filly reach for it.
“Wow! It’s so pretty!” she said, picking up the charm.
“No!” the stallion whinnied, “Hooves off, it’s mine!” He rushed over to the filly and grabbed it out of her hoof. He then proceeded to rub what miniscule amount of dirt there now was on the object off with his vest.
The filly flinched back before looking guilty. “I-I’m sorry sir, it was just so pretty and…” as the filly spoke she noticed a little black rodent crawl out of the stranger’s saddlebag to see what all the ruckus was about. It was Thief. The filly’s eyes grew wide as she screamed and ran back to her mother and sister as fast as she could. “There’s a- It’s a- He’s got a-” she continued to ramble on to her mother as her hooves danced around, not wanting to stay in place and unable to form proper words in her panic.
“What’s wrong sweetie?” The skinny mare asked concerningly.
“A rat!” she said as the words finally came to her.
When the filly’s words rang through the town, whispers and gasps could be heard all around along with the slamming of doors. The mother took her fillies and ran away from the stallion as fast as she could while the stallion put the trinket back into his saddle bag.
The buck folded his ears back at the exclamation and judgemental ponies in the town. Thief wasn’t carrying the plague and not many rats actually did so long as they kept clean and didn’t eat the infected corpses. This village was probably already infested anyway thanks to the abundance of fleas around and their mass graves. The pickpocket looked in the direction the ponies ran and gave a snort. He knew differently than they did and no matter any pony’s opinion, it wouldn’t change how he felt about his friends. He then continued on his way, picking up his pace a bit. He wanted to get out of this town, if you can call it a town, before anypony else decided to beg him for something.
He finally reached the ticket booth.
“One to Ponyville.” he said.
The stallion behind the counter moved the newspaper from his view and looked at the buck skinned pony. He cocked an eyebrow and stared.
“I need a ticket to Ponyville.” he repeated.
The ticket pony’s expression flattened. “No, you don’t.” he said before going back to his paper, once again blocking his view of the patron.
“Yes, I do. Now give me the ticket.” he said, grinding his teeth as he threw his seven bits on the counter.
He continued to glare daggers at the newspaper that had obstructed his view of the ticket pony while he was being ignored. He waited another minute before he swiped his bits off the counter and stormed away. The ticket buck turned the page of his newspaper and grumbled about the stranger thinking he can get on his train with a rodent.
The thief trotted around the side of the small building, looking for any way he could sneak in and steal a ticket but it seemed the only entrance was the door right next to the counter. It wasn’t a large building as it only needed to house the pony inside and a few cubby holes for mail and the like. There were no windows except the glass window that let the pony inside have protection when handing out mail or tickets.
His ears folded as he decided he would have to be a stow-a-way.
He walked around to the back side of the booth, hidden in the darkness and sat down to wait. Thief crawled onto his shoulder and he reached up to pet her. She twitched her nose and tickled his face with her whiskers and licked his cheek before scampering back into his saddlebag. She dug deeper, pushing an assortment of items out of her way to make a comfortable spot to go back to sleep in.
Something dropped onto the deck. The stallion turned his head back to see she had kicked the charm out of his pack.
“Hey!” he said, “Don’t push things out of there young lady.”
The rat turned around and popped her head out from the flap and looked at him.
He picked the unicorn charm up to stick it back in but the rat seemed to not want it in her space. She put her paws on it and pushed it away.
“Excuse me but, I need to put this back.” he told her.
She bit the metal and began chewing on it.
“Hey!” he pulled it back to safety, “If you’re going to be like that you can ride on my head. I know that’s not nearly as comfortable as the saddlebags but you’re not a first class passenger here.”
Thief shook her head and began to clean her face.
“Just because you clean yourself up doesn’t mean you get to keep your seat, other passengers need it so you need to find another one.” he said as a wooden board creaked behind him.
The buck turned his head to see the yellow filly and his ears folded once again.
“I don’t want your… services. Or your mother’s.”
“I saw you needed a ticket. Maybe we could make an exchange?” she asked with hopeful eyes.
“Not if that’s what you’re offering and besides, you have no money for a ticket,” he said firmly.
“But you do. Give me the money and a little food and I’ll get you your ticket.” She stated with determination, she had to convince him to take the deal, for her family’s sake.
The buck turned away, “I have no food. Go away.”
“Then… give me something to sell. Anything! I just need something, please.” she begged as she took a step forward.
“I hate kids…” the buck skinned stallion grumbled under his breath.
The filly fluttered her wings as he stood and turned around. Their eyes locked and he began to walk towards her. She took a nervous step back but didn’t break the gaze.
“You need it don’t you? I know you do. I saw you snooping around, looking for a way in to steal one since he wouldn’t sell it to you.” she said before swallowing hard. Her legs began to shake a bit as she took another step back.
He stopped just in front of the filly and looked down at her from under his hood. He lowered his mouth to her ear and said quietly, “I would keep my voice down when accusing strangers if I were you. You have no idea what somepony could be capable of.”
The filly swallowed hard again and took a couple quick steps away from him. She looked like she was going to soil herself.
The stallion rolled his eyes and sighed. “Calm down, I’m not going to do anything.” he said before taking seven bits out of his pack and hoofing them to the filly, “At least, not if you bring me my ticket.”
She looked to the stranger, to the bits and back to him again, not sure if she should take them or not. Finally, she decided she was brave enough to ask for her payment up front. The buck chuckled and flatly told her no. She picked up the coins and marveled at them, she had never held so many at once in her life. Then the pegasus remembered what she was supposed to do with them and hurried around the corner.
He stared in the direction she went for a moment before looking back to the pendant. He could just give her nothing but then she would probably alert the other ponies and they would make a fuss. He wouldn't get his ticket and would be back to square one with more trouble than he started with. He had other trinkets in his saddlebags he could give her but there were too many he didn’t want to part with. He could give her some bits but honestly, bits were easier for him to barter with rather than trying to find a peddler to take in his more expensive findings. It was even harder if the item was still a hot commodity to the public.
He put the item back into his saddlebag, unsettling Thief’s comfy spot before looking to where the filly had left once again. He wondered what was taking so long. Did the ticket pony catch on to their plan and deny the filly the ticket? Was there a foal price and an adult price and she was only eligible to buy the child’s ticket? Were foals required to have an adult with them when they rode the train so she was only allowed if she had her parents with her? Or was she simply rallying the townsfolk to capture him and sell him?
His ears dropped slightly and he chuckled to himself at that last scenario. He hadn't done anything to alarm the ponies of Estuary Slums and they didn’t know his secrets so, that scenario was obviously off the table.
He swallowed, stood, pulled the hood down lower and backed a bit farther into the shadows.
Little hooves sounded on the wooden platform a moment later and the yellow filly reemerged around the corner. She trotted closer but stopped several feet away and showed him the ticket she held between her wing feathers. She sucked in a nervous breath, “I got it.” she said in a shaky voice, “Now, my um… p-payment?”
The buckskin cracked a thin smile at the look of determination on the frightened foal’s face. He glanced to the ticket and saw it said 5:10 to Ponyville - One pony per ticket. He nodded to her, reached back, grabbed her payment and set it gently on the deck. He looked at it for a moment, still unsure if he really was okay parting with such a beautiful item.
She took a small step forward, her eyes darting between the stranger and the charm on the floor. He looked back to her from under his hood and the filly continued to stand stock still. A few seconds of the mini stand-off later and she darted out, dropping the ticket and biting down on the prize before swiftly flying back to the town.
The buck rolled his eyes and continued to watch the filly as she reached her family. She showed them the trinket and they spoke between each other for a moment before they started off in the direction of Canterlot. He knew the guards wouldn’t let them inside but they could at least find a trader outside the city and attempt to sell the charm. For a moment, he debated whether he should go steal it back after they pawned it or not. He gave a long sigh and pawed at the floor in slight frustration. The train would be here sooner rather than later and he wouldn’t be able to make it back in time. He wasn’t sure when the shift change of the ticket pony was and this frustrating stallion could inform the next one of him and his rat and they could deny him a ticket as well. Not to mention he would much rather not waste bits.
He finally decided he would just have to steal it back later. They probably wouldn’t be able to find somepony in Canterlot who would buy it anyways.
Thief jumped down from his back and scampered away, returning only a moment later. She jumped onto his shoulders, climbed to the top of his head and dropped the ticket onto his nose.
He looked down cross eyed at it. “Oh, thank you.” he said to the rodent before plucking the paper off his snout.
Behind him came a long, low bellowing noise. It echoed through the cavern and began to get louder. It stopped for only a moment and sounded again as if it had to take a breath of air before it made another shout. A few seconds later and the train came into view. Sparks were lightly thrown from its wheels as the conductor hit the breaks for the train to come to a stop and allow passengers on. It took a couple of minutes to halt the massive beast but it finally did stop. The buck’s ears perked as he crept around the building. He peeked through the glass to see the ticket pony still reading his paper before he let out the breath he was holding.
Walking casually into view, he stepped onto the train and entered the car. He held his ticket in his teeth to show the ticket inspector who stamped it before finding a seat. The ride home on the train wasn’t exciting but he was glad for it. Per the norm, he stared out the window and watched the world pass by while Thief explored the train car. There were more passengers on at this hour than there were last night but no pony bothered him.
A couple hours later and the train came to a screeching halt once again. The door of the train car was opened, ready for its passengers to enter or exit. The stallion looked around the car, making sure whoever else was getting off the train at Ponyville did so before he did. After a minute with everypony still in their seats, he stood up and took a step toward the door.
The buckskin pony stopped and looked around once more. Thief came scampering to him, knowing a stopped train meant it was time to leave. He offered a hoof to her and smiled as she jumped up, climbed to his withers and curled up. Trotting off the train, he couldn’t wait to get home. It had been a long night and he did not appreciate the gun that had been pointed at his face the second he stepped onto the train station platform.
The unicorn mare glared at the stranger, daring him to move. “What is your business in Ponyville?” she demanded.
Ignoring her question, he looked to his surroundings in hopes of finding some kind of advantage to resolve his current predicament. Two of the benches were broken and another was in shattered pieces everywhere. The glass that protected the pony inside the ticket booth was mostly gone except for a few jagged pieces that still framed the window sill. Blood was pooled on the counter and dripping onto the ground but the ticket pony was nowhere to be seen. The body of the sick pony that had been there at the beginning of the night lay still on the platform floor with several bullet wounds, nopony dared touch her corpse. There were ponies by the Ponyville gate which was blackened and severely damaged. They were making repairs to the wall, trying to patch it as best they could with what little supplies they had. From the massive hole in the wall, bullet holes everywhere, blood and debris all over the ground it was obvious they had been recently attacked and were on high alert.
The ponies before him all looked worried aside from the mare with the gun in his face who looked pissed off. Each of them had leather armor on but a few had pieces of metal patched onto their suits to try and reinforce it. One stallion’s looked like a foal sewed it on. The only one with decent armor was a grey unicorn stallion with a white and blue striped mane. He was wearing some sort of old palace guard armor that seemed well kept. It was rare to see a unicorn on the side of the rebels.
The most unnerving pony in front of him, however, was a mare with two heads. It was as if two ponies had their bodies cut in half, their rear ends disposed of and the two front ends were stuck together back to back. Did that mean they no longer counted as mares? Were they one pony or two? And how in the world did they use the bathroom with no rear end available to them? The stallion decided he was perfectly content not knowing the answer to the last question.
“Start talking or I’ll start shooting!” The mare commanded.
The hooded buck finally drew his eyes away from the double headed mare and back to the one who was brandishing a gun on him. “I’m no threat to you, your friends or your little rebel group. I’m just going to the Everfree Forest.” he said.
“Why do I not believe you?” She narrowed her eyes.
“Because you just got attacked, I’m in a cloak and you’re a paranoid idiot?” He offered.
The mare seethed. “Dusty, Silver, take him to Canary. I want to make sure he’s telling the truth. If he’s not, we have ourselves a new piñata.”
Behind her, two of the six ponies saluted before stepping forward. One was a tan earth pony buck with a straw colored mane while the other was a nervous dappled blue-silver pegasus mare. The stallion stood to the stranger’s right side while the filly stood to his left. Once the two were in place, they began to march him forward.
The buckskin pony’s ears tilted back slightly at his predicament. The sun was coming up, there were ponies everywhere here and they all knew he was here. If he tried to run, he couldn’t outrun a bullet and he didn’t want to risk Thief falling off and getting hurt. He decided for now he would bide his time and see where this was going. If they took his belongings from him, he would take out his hidden tools, pick the locks and escape. If they were very thorough, he would have to improvise. He hoped he wouldn't have to improvise.
“D-don’t try anything mister.” the pegasus mare said with a gulp.
Their pace was a bit slow thanks to the mare not watching where she was walking but she made sure to keep her rifle trained on her prisoner’s head.
“Silver,” the stallion said, adjusting the cowpony hat atop his head, “Pay attention ta where yer walking an’ calm down. If you trip an’ accidentally fire yer weapon, we won’t have anypony ta interrogate. He’s not a spy. Pro’lly another slaver or mercenary if he’s headed ta The Everfree. Commander Short Stack’s just pissed off ‘cause her stupid brother got shot again.”
Silver blushed and looked at her hooves.
Dusty leaned in towards the buckskin stallion. “Don’t mind the kid, first day jitters an’ all that.” he drawled.
The thief stayed silent as he eye’d his chaperone’s bit pouches. Both ponies had one and neither were really paying attention to him. It didn’t take much effort or the buck to relinquish both of them of their bits without notice.
“Welp, we’re here.” said the cowpony.
Before them was a small shack that was to the right side of the Ponyville gates. The building wasn’t any fancier than four shabby wooden walls and a roof. It didn’t even have any windows.
“Please give any an’ all weapons on yourself to Silver an’ head on inside. If y’all are deemed a non-hostile an’ not a spy for the King, your weapons will be returned to ya an’ y’all will be free ta go.” Dusty recited. Then he sighed, “Just, answer their dumb questions. There’s no real reason fer this other than a publicity stunt.” He looked back toward where Short Stack and the others stood. She was yelling at them to straighten their armor so it could protect them properly. “We got much better things ta do than play Twenty Questions with everypony goin’ ta The Everfree an’ the higher-ups know it. The ponies in there may be on the rough an’ tumble side but they ‘aint never bothered us none before an’ this is only gunna create friction between us an’ them.”
Dusty looked back to the stranger who already hooved over his daggers, bow and quiver full of arrows to the filly. “It’s just a couple questions. Please don’t hurt anypony an’ please understand attacks by the King frighten everypony inside. The higher-ups just order this to make everypony we’re protectin’ feel a little more secure. It’s not like we’re actually going to find a spy fer the King, his ponies are too good to get caught.”
The stallion snorted and rolled his eyes before walking into the building. The small space within consisted of a table, two chairs, one on either side of the table, and a pony on the far side of the room. She was an off white filly with pastel shades of blue and yellow for her mane. Her rump was in the seat opposite the door but the bright orange bird on her butt was proudly uncovered from the light armored top she wore. It almost looked like she was just wearing a collared shirt. She gave a big grin to the newcomer.
“Hello!” She said, way too cheerfully, “My name’s Canary, what’s your name?”
He stared blankly at her.
“Why do you have your hood up inside?”
The buck stifled a yawn.
“Where did you come from?”
He opened his mouth to give a witty retort but the filly talked so fast he couldn’t even utter the first syllable of his response.
“I’m from Ponyville though I’m actually from Manehattan before those big attacks that happened there a long time ago. I don’t really remember much because I was just a filly when that happened.” she giggled, “So where are you going? Is it someplace fun? I love fun but nopony around here will let me have fun with them. They always complain at me that there’s too many chores to be done. Have you ever seen a Crystal Pony? I heard those are like, really rare but they’re suuuuper pretty with their shiny coats and pretty, pretty eyes.” She zoned out of the one sided conversation with a dreamy expression on her face for a moment before continuing,
“Oh! What kind of food do you like? We could throw you a welcome feast with lots of tasty desserts! That would put a smile on those grumpy pony’s faces. They’re always so exhausted maybe having a good meal will cheer them up! We could get ready now and have it all ready for lunch, ooh, maybe even brunch! What should we make? We don’t have a lot of ingredients but we do have--”
The door behind the stallion opened with a creek. He turned around to see a soft green mare with her mane hidden under a helmet. She was one of the ponies just outside the train station.
“Hiya Rooroo!” Canary chirped, waving a hoof in the air ecstatically at the intruder.
“Canary Blues, Commander Stack wanted me to make sure you were letting him talk instead of talking for him,” Roo said in an annoyed tone of voice. “Again,” she added.
“Oh sure, we’re talking lots! We’re planning a potluck, do you want to bring anything? It’s going to be so much fun!” the filly said with a huge smile on her face.
Roo looked to their temporary prisoner who folded his ears. She turned back to the white pony. “Canary!” she barked.
She eeped and lost her smile.
“Your job is to interrogate prisoners, not plan potlucks. I’m going to have to report you to the Commander. Again.” She growled. It was obvious the two went at this issue often.
Canary grew wide eyed and ran to Roo, “No, please no! They’ll put me on bedpan washing again. Please, please, please don’t! I promise I’ll be good!” She groveled.
With both of the mares distracted with each other, it was the easiest thing in the world for the bored buck to steal Canary Blues’ pouch of belongings.
“Hey, somepony’s gotta clean them. Dr. Patch ‘n Stitch and H.N. need all the help they can get with all the injured at their clinic.”
Canary looked up at Roo with big watery eyes. Her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.
“Ugh, fine,” the green mare said as she rolled her eyes, “but you have to interrogate properly, got it?”
“Yes boss!” the filly said with a salute.
With that Roo left and Canary went back to her seat with a sigh. She picked up the clipboard that was on top of the table, ignored in the first round of questions, and the pencil that was sitting next to it. With that, she groaned at the paperwork and monotonously began her questions. He assumed that all the cheeriness from before was lost with the thought of washing bedpans.
She only asked about twelve or so questions and they were pretty easy, unimportant questions. What was your name, where did you come from, where was he going, what’s your family like, what do you think of the Kings and so on. The only question that caught him off guard was when she asked him what time it was. It was so out of the blue and so random that he just sat there. She shrugged her shoulders and scribbled something down on the paper anyways. He didn’t actually know what time it was and he really didn’t care as he had lied for all of his other answers anyways. It seemed to him that there was a lot more on that list she was supposed to ask him but didn’t. She also wrote more on the paper than talked this time, either filling in answers on his behalf or doodling on the form in her own version of rebellion on the no-fun policy.
Once the game of Twenty Questions was over, more scolding was in order for Canary, the buck was given his gear back and he was escorted to the edge of the Everfree Forest by yet another guard. This guard’s personality matched his cutiemark perfectly, a bent tin can. He was a dark brown pegasus with a light blue and white mane and he limped as he walked.
Tin Can didn’t speak a word until they were both at the edge of the forest. “Alright, go on, git and don’t come back.” he said, gesturing to the forest with his head.
The hooded pony snorted at the order and trotted into the brush before him.
Knowing his way around the forest, he found the salt stone path easily and eventually made his way into the town. He passed the usual buildings along the rickety wooden path that lead through the organized chaos of the place. Here and there ponies, griffons and a minotaur or two mulled about, a few talking in clusters, some carrying crates and others were hauling wagons filled with goods. This time, when he passed the open space filled with empty stalls, the market booths weren’t so empty. There were merchants who were filling some of the stalls with their products, readying to open soon. The blacksmith and his apprentice were heating up their forges, sorting their metals for whatever projects they were going to be working on for the day and gathering bundles of wood. As he passed Dr. Slice’s office, one of his nurses flipped their sign from closed to open. Soon as she took her hoof away from the sign and unlocked the door, four twitchy ponies fought each other to bolt through his door. No doubt to buy more of whatever drug they were addicted to.
It was then that a white rat came running towards him from an alleyway. Thief poked her head out from her hiding spot and jumped off to greet the other rodent.
“Oh, hi Winter.” the hooded buck said, “Long time no see girl.” He walked a few steps closer so he could pet Winter in greeting.
The two rats sniffed each other before they began a short game of tag. The older rat, Winter, began to chase Thief around the stallion before the black rat ran back up his leg. The white rat followed. Then the two began chasing and play fighting up and down his back, hiding in his hood, in the quiver and finally into his vest before he protested.
“Girls, that’s enough, I’m not a circus ring!” he said as he shook both of them off him. Thief clung to his back leg but not for long and both rats went tumbling to the wooden platform. He sighed, “You two okay?” he asked. The two began to furiously clean themselves. “You can play later. Winter, do you have any notes for me?” Winter stood on her back legs and wiggled her nose at him before hopping closer.
Due to the dangerous nature of the thief’s job, trustworthy folk were quite difficult to come by. With this in mind, he had his own way of communicating with anyone who wanted to hire him. They would first have to ask around to figure out who his contact was. Once they spoke with that third party, that third party would then make a deal with them on the thief’s behalf. They would write a note, find a rat with a collar and the note would be transported to him. The buckskin saw this method of communication safer for him and the messages due to the social stigma around rats. With the blight rampant in the cities and everypony blaming the rats for transporting it, no one would mess with his messages and he didn’t have to risk getting close to strangers who might betray him.
Around the white rat’s neck was a small silver chain with a clasp. The stallion opened the clasp and found a note tucked away inside, pulled the paper out, slipped it into a front pocket on his vest and closed the secret compartment on the rat’s chain.
“Thanks girl.” he said as he pet her, “Come on Thief, we have to get going.”
The young rat shook herself out briefly before climbing back onto her friend’s withers while the older one ran back into the alleyway. After his passenger was back in her seat, the thief continued on his way.
As he passed the Crippled Cragadile Inn there were a group of ponies complaining. As others passed by, they joined in the heated discussion while a tan pegasus with a multicolored mane was crowded by the herd, trying to calm them down.
“Look every-creature, if you want something done, go talk to him. I’m not the boss! I-I can’t do anything about it!” the overwhelmed stallion said to them all. No one was listening to him, of course, as they were so boisterous his words could barely be heard.
The buckskin snorted, flattened his ears and trotted a bit faster. Apparently that guard, Dusty, was right. The residents of The Everfree were upset at the intrusion of their private comings and goings and weren’t going to keep their opinions to themselves. At least he didn’t have to worry about things like politics. He moved around the last few homes and came upon the back edge of the town.
This side of the Everfree Forest wasn’t maintained nearly as much as the Ponyville side was. Thick brush tried to hide every path that anyone attempted to create and tall trees blocked out any natural light. He never understood how any of the bushes or grass grew here if there was no sunlight for them. He found the thin trail he had always taken and continued on his way. This path was getting more and more cramped by the day with the overgrown flora but he could still fit his small frame where he needed to go.
On occasion he came across some poison joke flowers that had crept onto the path and he knew to either go around or jump across. He had been told stories of this plant and its effects and he would much rather not know what kind of devious prank it would pull on him. Probably make his coat shine like a freshly polished shield with the brightest spotlight shining on it for all to see even if he hid in a darkened room. He shivered at the thought of shining like a lamp light.
Eventually he came upon an ancient castle broken down into rubble with time. The ruins were so old that the forest around it had taken the land back for itself. Vines wrapped around pillars, grasses and bushes grew out of cracks between the cobblestones and massive trees broke down walls with their growth. The work of pony hooves for past royalty had been subdued to the test of time.
When the stallion was a colt, he had wanted to go exploring through the rubble to see what he could find but was always told not to. He constantly argued that the castle once belonged to royalty, there had to be treasure somewhere in there but nevertheless, he obeyed because the orders came from those who were bigger and older than he was. That didn’t make him any less frustrated about being told no. As he grew older this desire had dissipated. He understood the thousand year old castle was so unstable that setting hoof in there could mean a death wish. Not to mention all the ghost stories about the castle and the area around it. He didn’t really believe in ghost stories but didn’t want to take the chance just in case there actually were angry spirits lurking. Bad enough he walked right through their territory almost on a daily basis.
He trotted around the massive structure and came upon a bending stream. He followed the river away from the castle and around a large jagged rock structure known as Ragged Rock Ridge. As he passed, a few small boulders came tumbling down just ahead of him and he slowed his pace to a stop. He looked up to where the rocks came from to see that the last one had fallen. In his peripheral vision, on the top of the ridge, something had moved but when he looked to where the movement had been, it was gone. Couldn’t have been an evil spirit, this place wasn’t the nearby castle and ghosts didn’t change where they lived, right? He twitched an ear before moving around the boulders and followed the stream of water.
He passed by a bridge leading across the water going from East to West and came upon a split in the river. He followed the stream northward, crossed some railroad tracks and came upon an open field.
Looming above him was Foal Mountain. It wasn’t the biggest mountain in Equestria but it had once been important enough to the Kings to have a royal city dedicated to them here. Leading through the small line of trees that seemed to guard the mountain range was a cracked stone trail. He passed several cautionary signs that were nailed to the trees, giving several different warnings to travelers.
Along the side of the road were a couple of forgotten suitcases, a broken toy and an abandoned waggon with a broken wheel. The badly torn cloth cover of the vehicle was softly waving in the light breeze of the morning.
The stallion stopped just in front of a large hastily built wall that obstructed the path ahead. It had a pony skull painted in red on it that took up the entire face of the structure. The barricade was made of large cut stones with a thick wooden beam for support every ten feet or so. Large dark crystals protruded from the earth below helped give extra support. With years of neglect on upkeep, many vines and brush had latched itself to the enclosure giving it almost an enchanted look in the morning sunlight. He looked up at the tall structure before looking to his left. He grabbed the rope that dangled down from the grappling hook which was attached to the top of the wall before scaling up it. When he reached the top he slowly peeked over the edge and cautiously looked around. After he was certain that nopony was around, he finished climbing atop the fortification. Standing on the structure’s peak, he could see what was hidden beyond.
The road continued for a little ways before two statues loomed above it. Both of them were facing each other with one on either side of the path. They were built to resemble faceless rearing unicorns having one hoof of each statue touching the other’s. For balance or the aesthetic of being an entrance archway to the city, the stallion didn’t know.
The pathway below the statues had gone from being stone to white quartz blocks, each having their own unique design of black veins splitting the stones in various ways almost looking like inverted lightning strikes. On the outer edge of the quartz road were more of the black crystals, framing the road with its contrast to the white stones. Unfortunately though, time had taken its toll on the beauty that had once been and now most of the road was damaged with cracks and foliage growing between. One of the unicorn statues had lost a leg, the other its tail. They weren’t truly lost of course, they had fallen to the ground and destroyed part of the roadway beneath.
In front of the two statues were a set of poles, one on either side. The left pole held up the King’s flag displaying his sigil to all who entered through. Like the rest of the hoof built landscape around it, it was ripped and faded with the passage of time. The right pole had dropped its flag long ago and now the fabric was taken over by a briar bush. Thorns slowly tore up the flag allowing rodents and birds easy access to use it for nesting materials.
Up and up this road led before weaving back and forth up the mountain side so the path wouldn’t be too steep for travelers. A structure that looked like a wooden basket hung down from a high ledge far above that stuck out of the mountain like a sore hoof and attached to a massive tree at the bottom of the slope. Just on the other side of the wall were dozens of carts and wagons. They were all wrecked and broken, empty save for their deceased occupants and drivers. Long dead ponies lay scattered along the path as if they crushed each other while trying to get past the walls. The vast majority of them were unicorn and they were wearing some sort of formal outfits to show their high class status. Earth pony bones were latched to the carts, still bearing their slave collars or hoof cuff chains. Some of the bones had damages to them, a cracked skull to a blunt object or a sharp blade lodged between bones and some pierced through with bullet holes. There were adults and children, slaves and masters, civilians and King’s guard alike. No pony survived the tragedy that occured here so long ago.
He jumped down from the wall and onto one of the carts then down to the road. Instead of following its winding up the mountain, past the broken cottages with their black crystal fences and the dried up water well halfway up the slope, he walked straight ahead to the children’s playground. Just beyond was the massive tree with its ride up. Hoofing his way up the ladder he made it to the small platform attached to the trunk. There he found the lower pulley system and crank he needed to lower the wooden basket if it were at the top. Today, it was already on the lower platform and ready to ascend. He trotted into the basket while Thief poked her little head out to sniff the air.
“Going up.” he said to his passenger and began tugging on the ropes.
As they rose higher and higher into the air, they got a good view of the mountain side that led up to the city. Above them was a large wooden platform that connected the two mountain peaks with the larger one hosting the incomplete castle. Almost half of the structure between the rocky terrain had collapsed in a massive rock slide that had brought down a large portion of the forgotten metropolis above. Below was a heap of debris, old broken buildings, boulders and half the mountain side. The only thing that had survived the collapse was a single apple tree that latched itself to the side of the mountain as it fell. The previous residents had worked hard to secure the underside of the city with massive wooden beams and tried to create the grand city the King had ordered but their efforts were in vain as constant landslides impeded their construction, their crops would somehow always foul just before harvest and swarms of wood beetles refused to be exterminated.
It was when the caverns were excavated for resources that everypony called the mountain range cursed. Twenty-seven years ago, a few ponies grew violently ill, their coat fell off within days, nasty boils grew all over their bodies and their lungs filled with fluids. Within a week they either died of asphyxiation or organ failure. It wasn’t until a couple dozen ponies died that they realized the deadly plague came from the cavern. It had spread like wildfire through the town, the King brought his army in to force the citizens to stay in the city while new workers from Filly Delphia were sent in by trains to build the wall all the way around, sealing everypony within.
Once the great wall was completed, more orders were given and every pony within was exterminated. Even the guards still left inside were abandoned to die of the plague within the week. Unfortunately the containment hadn't held as they had thought and somepony got free. A small child slipping through a crack in the walls, a pegasus simply flying out or a unicorn teleporting, no pony knew for sure how. It didn’t matter though, what mattered was the lives of millions were being threatened with death and the kings were forced to take drastic measures to protect their citizens.
Curfews, limited medical services to preserve what doctors they had left and exterminating anyone showing any small signs they were sick were only a few of the steps taken. Massive holes were dug for the dead to be thrown into but they couldn’t dig fast enough not to mention the heeps of bodies decaying attracted all sorts of creatures to come lurking out of the woods for a free meal. Swarms of flies plagued the cities nearest the graves while rats, crows and condors came to feast on the carrion. The fleas hopped onto the rats and got free rides into the city, spreading the plague even faster. Eventually they resorted to burning the bodies, building soot mills in each city and having carts be pulled through town each day to transport the dead. It became illegal to house or hide the sick and if you were caught not turning them in you were exterminated alongside them as a precaution to preserve the healthy. The only hope the people had were the two inventive scientists the kings hired to find a cure.
This city was once proudly called The King’s Hoof but after it had been abandoned everypony dubbed it as Pestilence Peak. It was a lonely mountain now, isolated, shunned and cold. Silent as the wind with the only bit of life residing here almost thirty years later were wild dogs, raccoons, rats and the buckskin stallion.
The stallion and his companion reached the top of the lift, tied off the rope to hold the basket up and stepped out. He stepped off the wooden basket and onto an unkempt dirt road filled with potholes. Though quite a few buildings in this town were falling apart, there were still some here and there standing strong. Those that once housed ponies and still had intact doors had symbols and numbers painted on its face. A large circle with an X, splitting it into four sections. In each section were different numbers. The top spot showed how many total ponies lived in the house. The left numbered how many children were inside, the right had tally marks to count the sick leaving the bottom to tally the dead. Usually the dead slot was one short of the household number for obvious reasons.
As he made his way through the small city and towards the castle atop the mountain peak the only sound around was his hoofsteps. Soft as they were from the padded shoes he wore, they still echoed through the streets. There were no voices from other ponies, no music or sounds of coin exchange. No children were laughing as they chased each other through the buildings and no birds were singing of this place as they flew about. The only thing around that answered his hoofsteps were the shop signs that moved with the light breeze and creaked while sounds of window shutters groaned open and closed, upset that they were being disturbed.
Then there was a growl. The stallion quickly looked towards it as he readied his weapon. The growl escalated to the sounds of dogs attacking one another as one cried in pain. The pony moved around a building and the fight came into view. Three mangy dogs were ganging up on another who refused to defend itself. That or it knew it was not going to win and decided to let its fate be decided by the others. He couldn’t tell what they were fighting about but he quickly put his bow and arrow back before moving faster to make sure he wasn’t next on the hit list.
A few more minutes of trotting through the city later and he came to a small bridge that led over a dry canal. He walked over the rickety bridge and came upon his destination. It was halfway up the mountain side, not near as high up as the castle but with how elevated it was, one could see the entire town if at the top. The building was as large as it was tall. The bottom level, as most of the buildings in the town, was made of stones held together with soft lime mortar to glue them together. The remaining four floors were made of wood with the second and higher floors overhanging the first by about a foot. The belltower portion of the building was built to stand out farther than the rest of the structure to showcase the massive rounded stained glass window on the second floor. The bell tower itself was notably lacking a bell.
On the first floor, one side of the building had a large window so one could see inside. The actual entrance of the cathedral, however, was inaccessible with the news press building next to it collapsed in front and blocking the door as well as half of the badly cracked window. With the collapse of the church’s neighbor, part of the second and third floors had been damaged and the belltower was a bit crooked but still standing. Due to the destruction around, there was no way anyone could enter from the ground level. The wall sized window did not open and all the other windows on the sides of the building were tall but way too narrow for even a filly to squeeze through them.
The stallion trotted to the side of the building where the canal was and climbed down the rope ladder that had been tied to a couple of old fence posts. Once at the bottom, he came to a hole in the wall of the water way. Stone and brick had been blasted out from the inside of the church leaving a hole for him to enter through into the building’s basement.
Inside the room it was dark and slightly damp. Along one wall was a rack full of unopened wine bottles. In large rows filling the majority of the space were larger racks to hold oaken wine barrels that were still corked. He walked past the containers and to the back of the room where a set of stairs led up to the next floor. Under the stairs was a sort of office corner containing a desk, several old documents and a used up candle. The cobwebs that filled the room’s rafters showed its age and loneliness.
The ground floor looked a bit more inviting with the light of the sunshine filtering through the dusty windows. He stood on a stage only slightly taller than the floor. Behind him on the wall was a statue of a white alicorn doing battle with a monstrous black creature made of many different animals. The flags on either side of the statue were of the white alicorn standing tall while the darkness was below, subdued by the powerful being that dominated the banner. At the edge of the stage was a podium, a long table and several religious instruments used in past ceremonies. An old dusty tome was left open on the dais, forgotten after the last congregation. Beyond the stage were rows and rows of pews. Here and there were skeletons of single ponies or families who prayed in their last moments for peace from their pain and in the end, their god listened to their cries.
He trotted past the pews and toward the main entrance. Halfway through the long building the pews changed to foal desks and faced the opposite direction. At the other end was a large chalkboard and a teacher’s desk. Small bookshelves along the walls held many texts and history books for the students to use in their studies. To the left side of the teacher’s desk was a spiral staircase that led to the second floor of the building.
He trotted up the stairs and found himself in a room filled with cots and mattresses. The other end of the room was sectioned off for a large kitchen and a few tables to eat at. The cots had been shoved in a corner of the room while the mattresses looked to be violently torn apart, so much so that the only ones left to be able to use them were the rats that claimed them for their nests. It was on this level of the cathedral that Thief jumped off her ride to go say hi to her family.
The spiral staircase continued to the third floor of the building. All of the large desks on this floor had been shoved all around the sides leaving the center of the room vacant. Along one of the walls was a wardrobe containing ancient robes worn by the clergy ponies and their transitional deacons. On two of the desks books were stacked up high to collect dust as they waited to be opened. The others contained a large assortment of items such as stolen documents, journals, unframed paintings and unpolished jewelry. On four of the desks there were display cases filled with ornaments and trinkets that shined like the stars, glittering when the sunlight hit them just right and filling the room with the colors of their gemstones.
Hanging from the rafters of this room and framing a few of the walls were several pieces of silken linen, their designs completely mismatched from any aesthetic the room’s other decorations had to provide. Most of them were decorated in gemstones such as diamonds, rubies and emeralds. Some had golden thread stitching while others had magnificent embroidery that had most likely taken weeks of hoof stitching to get just so. His favorite of these silks was a mural of the Crystal Empire, the castle embroidered with fine thread and studded with black diamonds to compliment the white fire opals that topped the citadel.
The elegant scenery was hung above a desk singled out and placed next to the winding staircase by a slightly opened window. On top of its wooden surface were an assortment of tools used to clean and polish the treasure within the room. The drawers contained all the elements the thief would need to craft any of the arrows he carried within his quiver for his work. Above the desk was a fishing net. It hung low as a few empty quivers were tied to it to hold any extra supplies he had pre-made. Three grappling hooks, their ropes neatly tied up, were also hanging from the net from their metal claw.
Several empty picture frames were neatly stacked in a tower of sorts on the floor next to the desk while the ones that proudly presented their paintings were hung on any wall space they could find to occupy. All around the room, in between the picture frames, were at least two dozen wall hanging ring holders in the shape of unicorn horns, each bearing several elegant pieces. Delicate wire frames on stands in the middle of the room displayed the most brilliant of gemstones, too precious to sell to his fence. Every other wire frame was a display stand with a glass box top to protect the precious ancient artifacts within.
The buckskin moved to the work desk, pulled down his hood and removed his saddlebags. He sat in the stool before taking the contents out one by one. There were a few loose bits, a silver laced pen, a gold lighter, three coin purses, the ruby earrings and ring box, a half a bottle of whisky, the pocket portrait, the box of mysteries, a fancy looking porcelain teacup, a bond paper worth ten bits and the smaller saddlebags that once belonged to the very talkative guard, Canary Blues.
He unclipped his bow and quiver next, setting them on the desk beside the items. The coin purses and loose bits he stuffed all in one bag while he took the earrings, ring and the bond, walked over to the other side of the room and placed them in their respective piles to either be polished or wait to sell with the rest of the stack of bonds. The teacup he set next to the full coin purse and the pocket portrait he left on the desk while the pen went into a drawer full of other decoratively metal laced pens.
With all the items out of his bags, he stared at them and knew something was missing. Still torn about giving the filly the charm, he sighed and went to the mystery box to get his mind off of the lost prize. The box was painted bright red and accented in thin golden lines. Studded on the lid was a large sapphire with four small pearls around it. At the front of the box was a keyhole so he removed a couple of his lock picks from the leather bands around his canons and began to pick the lock. He was very gentle with it, going more by sound than by feel, hearing the soft clicks before sharp ones knowing the tumblers had set into place. After all four were in position the lock opened easily.
Inside the small box, dark gray velvet cotton lined the entirety of the inside which cradled seven shards of a blue gem. He pulled one out and looked at it curiously. It wasn’t sapphire, tanzanite or zircon which were the obvious blue gems it could have been. It definitely wasn’t a blue diamond as it had a sort of milky look to it rather than a clear one. They were obviously precious stones to have been kept in such an elegant box but he couldn’t figure out what they were. He examined them closer and noticed they seem to have been shards of something bigger. Two of the pieces even fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces.
He placed the gem back into the case with the others and gave a yawn. He could figure out the mystery later. Maybe his fence knew something about the stones. Grabbing the full coin purse and the tea cup, he walked up the last set of spiral stairs to the fourth floor. Up here was a small attic room that hid away shelves of old scrolls covered in cobwebs. In every last bit of extra space on this floor there were large barrels filled to the brim with golden bits. As he stepped hoof in the room the floor gave a long groan, complaining of the weight it was forced to bare. The roof above was badly damaged with a large piece of metal protruding through the wood and a couple lengths of broken rope dangling down.
He dumped the coins into the barrels and admired his collection. To an average pony, this was a fortune. Enough to buy their own castle, land and many servants. This amount of bits would make anypony a high-class citizen. Someone labeled as posh or elegant who would wear fancy tuxedos with a top hat, cane and a monocle whose only goal in life was to talk gossip at fancy parties, mingling with other ponies of high standing.
It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough for the buck skinned thief. He had been stashing this collection for almost twenty years of his life and he still didn’t have what he needed.
He ran his hoof through one of the barrels letting the gold bits flow over his hoof, watching as they glittered from the light shining through the single small window in the room. Taking his hoof out of the mountain of money he sighed and his ears folded. He knew that even if he did one day get enough that no one would accept his wealth but he had to try, it was the only goal he had and he was determined to achieve it.
The buck turned to the ladder on the far side of the room and climbed up it. He had to push open a hatch and moved through it to reach the fifth and final story of the cathedral. This level had a short half wall on all four sides sort of like a wooden fence to keep ponies from falling off. On each of the corners was a thick wooden post that held the tall roof up. Small bits of soft moss hung down from the roof and clung to parts of the broken rafters. The mechanisms that once held the large bell were broken and damaged, ripped down with the bell when the old wood gave way to rot. The bell itself lay on the crushed floor of the tower, open side out to the West. Next to the bell was a small table that had two drawers. On the top of the end table was a sleeping lantern and a silver pocket watch slowly counting the seconds of the day.
He pulled the note he got from Winter out of his picket before he removed his gear, folding each piece of clothing neatly before placing them inside the drawers. His leather boots and mask he left next to the end table to be washed later. His buckskin coat shone some in the morning light as he looked to the city below. A crystal pony, king of all he saw. King of rubble and dirt, of cobwebs and wild dogs. He was without a crown and without proper subjects or ponies to till his lands. No ponies to guard his territory or to bow to his every whim. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted but it was something and it was his. Better than a slave collar he supposed.
He sat down on the small rug that hid the damaged floor and opened the note.
Hey Clout, it’s me. It’s been months, why not come and visit? At least let me know you’re alive. Your shipment has been here for you for a while now, getting kind of worried about you. I’ve got a new helper, can’t wait for you to meet her! I wish you would find a mare and settle down already.
I also wish you would find some other way for me to get notes to you, my customers are starting to think your rats are going to bring the blight into my shop. I’ve got a job for you, stinking journalist got their hooves on information that would get us into trouble and I think you should pay them a visit.
Oh, my brother also has a job for you too. Come see me soon!
-- M.
Clout’s eyes lingered on the last line of the letter and seethed. Thief brought him out of his anger by jumping onto his shoulder.
“Oh, hi.” he said to her.
The little black rat twitched her whiskers at him.
“We gotta go see Merchant tomorrow and tell him off about taking any jobs from Flight. He should know better than to tell that ass I would ever take a job from him.” he informed his furry friend with a scowl.
She jumped off of him and ran into the bell.
“Bedtime already?” he asked with a chuckle, “Okay, one second.”
On the other side of the bell was a metal wire basket loosely woven together. He lit the burnt pieces of wood within and when the fire was decent enough, he tossed the letter into it. The stallion watched it burn completely before turning to the bell. He pushed aside the old raggedy sheet that hung over the entrance and to the straw mess inside. The materials within resembled a nest more than a bed being a mixture of pieces of cloth, cotton and straw.
Clout curled up on his makeshift bed, waited for Thief to settle into her spot next to him before falling asleep for the day.