These City Walls

by KitsuneRisu

The One Who Eats the Tail Pt 5

When the wind blew, the air felt still. That was just something that happened when you're travelling high up in the air, flying at a steady pace. You could feel the wind when it was still, and during the times that it travelled with you, it felt strangely serene.

It was something that Duriandal had noticed, sitting in the back of the cart.

She kept to the center of the bench - the padded one that had been crafted for the comfort of the passengers - to ensure that her fervour didn't take her off the side of the un-barred wagon and send her far more quickly to her destination than she would have preferred. But even there, flank stuck securely on the seat, hooves wrapped around the edge for extra stability, she could take it all in, and simply enjoy it while it lasted.

Not a time before now had she ever thought for a second that this is what she would be doing on a Wednesday mid-morning. Why, split-second resolutions of impromptu travel was clearly a Saturday thing! But amidst the clouds in the sky and the clouds in her head, she just found herself doing something that she had never considered doing before.

Not caring.

Well, to be fair, she did. She did in grievous amounts. In amounts enough to hurt her and cause her to count, Celestia forbid. But these past few days seemed to have hit a big old reset button deep inside her somewhere, and the time was right for her to set forth into the great unknown, even if the great unknown was a small town about ten minutes flight away.

The rush of it all covered up the nagging voice at the back of her skull that told her not to do things, not to go places, and not to deviate from the path well worn. And with the sight of clouds and sky and land unfolding before her like a living painting, she found less reason to listen to that voice.

Her hair waved in the rushing torrent, and just almost for that moment her heart fluttered, worried that she should have brought some of her hair gel with her. But she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and let the thought slip away with the winds of change.

"Everythin' ok back there?" asked the driver, a heavy-set Pegasus Stallion who looked like he had a lot of extra time but spent none of it on personal grooming. But as it usually was, you really couldn't judge on image alone, and he was friendly enough to engage his passenger with casual conversation, insomuch as taxi drivers usually try to.

As if to even further disrupt the natural order of things, his passenger engaged back.

"Yes!" Duriandal shouted above the whipping air. "Thank you, it is... really... quite amazing!"

She figured the word 'amazing' would be useful here. She tended to think of things either as 'good' or 'not so good' or 'get it away from me', but as Blitz taught her just the other day, variety shows authenticity.

"First time flyin', eh?"

"Yes, yes it is!" she nodded, although she knew that the driver couldn't see her do so. "It is my first time out of Canterlot!"

"Well, that's great. Chose a good place to go visitin', too! Ponyville's nice this time'a year. You gotcha apples, gotcha festivals, always havin' a party, that place."

"That sounds... outstanding!"

"Yeah but, hey, bein' from Canterlot, betcha got yer fill of parties already, eh? City never sleeps, just like Manehattan, but, y'know. Literally!"

"Oh... ah... yes, you would be right, there are many parties to be had in Canterlot, for sure, and I have been accountable at quite... quite a number of them!" she embellished. "But... ah... I suppose it would be great fun to... experience some in such a... a.... wonderful place like Ponyville!"

"Hah, that's great. You're pretty alright for a Canterlot Pony, eh?"

"Ah... what... what do you mean?" Duri brushed a stray lock of hair from her face that started to droop down instead of up, which was much more difficult than it sounded. The ground swirled underneath them, as the white cliffs of Canterlot drove further and further away behind them and they caught up with the green beneath.

"Well, you know," the driver said, casually. "Them's always the more... fashionable type, yeah? All dolled up, never goin' to Ponyville. But look at'cha! You're not dressed up, you're visiting Ponyville on your first time out, not even afraid to let your hair loose!"

Duriandal swallowed hard.

"You seem pretty alright by my book! Always gotta try new things, yeah?"

"Yea...ah...!" stammered Duriandal, frantically holding down her mane flat upon her crown.

"So, ya got your visit worked out? Or are ya taking it free and easy?"

"Oh, ah... I am... ah... I don't..."

"You know anythin' about the place you're going ta?"

"Ah... yes, there is... a library."

"Hah!" guffawed the driver. "It's alright! I get it. I get it."

"What? What?" stammered Duriandal, as she tried to beat her hair into place without it having much progress.

"Taking one of those kinds of trips, eh? Runnin' away? Tired of the city life? Can't say I blame ya!"

"Oh... ah... yes. You have me... figured out."

"Tell ya what though, lady, none of my business, but you ain't gonna find a better place to be than Ponyville. Ever hear of Sweet Apple Acres? The Sweet Apple Acres? They're there! Right there in Ponyville. And they might be small but they have a lot of comforts, y'know?"

"I... knooow!" agreed Duriandal. It was probably safest.

"A lot of my customers rave about the ponies there, I tell ya what. They're all really nice and friendly, too. You're going to have a great time. I hear there's even one'a them Middle-World type Spas there, ya know, and uh... ya know... buncha stuff!"

"That sounds really... great!"

"Well, tell ya what, we're nearly there, so let me know, where can I set ya down?"

"The library, please!"

"Library? Really?"

"Yes I'm meeting somepony there!"

Right after I fix my hair first, thought Duriandal.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'

"I want to know how this happened!"

"Sarge, calm down, Sarge! Please!"

"Don't you tell me to calm down you... you... malignant git!"

"Sarge!"

The sight of Canary angry was already something to give most ponies concern. Even Staff Sergeant Beat kept out of her way, firm in the knowledge that at least she'd never hurt anypony, and especially not him if he didn't come out of his room. But anger has layers, and this layer of anger was a raw vein of molten fury that now erupted from her ears and splashed about the floor, leaving tight puddles of ire oil here and there for people to slip in.

Berry sort of knew, by this point, how to hoof-tip around these puddles, but really. This was getting out of control, by Jove.

"You call me Sarge one more time and I'll take your helmet and make your bowels shine for a week!"

"Sergeant Canary, sir! We've found nothing else missing from the evidence locker other than her purse and certain contents of Miss Flare's bag!" came another officer, rushing up fervently.

"What?! What did she take?!" cried Night Flare.

"Ah... a half-bit coin."

"Wait... a half-bit? One half-bit?" cut in Canary.

"Yes, sir!"

"Oh for... SILVER!"

"Boss?" She zoomed over.

"What did you say earlier about the coin?!"

"This one, Boss?" Silver took out a shiny silver coin and held it up.

"Where'd you get it, again?"

"Jus' about ten mins' ago, mebbie, Boss! I was at m'post, an' then I hears this coin drop right? So I turns around t' pick it up, an..."

"She returned the coin. She didn't even take it with her," said Blitz Breeze, adding to an otherwise unstable pot of conversation. Clearly, she was quite impressed, albeit at the wrong thing. "This was some plan."

"Yes, thank you. Silver, that half-bit belongs to Flare. Give it back or I hit you repeatedly, and I know you're going to say that you found it and therefore it's yours which is why I'm going to hit you if you don't just give it back."

Silver just hovered there and stared blankly, her mouth slightly open, coin resting on an upturned hoof. Very slowly, she extended the coin back to Flare's posession.

"Now leave me before I eat your children!"

"Sarge, I don't think Silver has any chi..." said Berry.

"I'LL EAT YOURS TOO!"

"Sarge! For Celestia's sake! Keep it together! Please! I'm beggin' you!" pleaded Berry.

"Are you scared?" whispered Flare to Blitz.

"Little bit, yes."

"I HEARD THAT!"

"Oh my Colt, RUN!" screamed Flare, backing up and tripping over herself.

"Someone get the mace!" a third voice yelled from somewhere else in the station.

"Sarge, why are you so angry?!" Berry whined again, nearly at the brink of breaking down herself.

"Because she's gonna get killed!"

And there it came, bursting forth from her like a balloon popping in the darkened room of a surprise party. It gives everyone a bit of a shock, but then everyone realises there wasn't anything to be concerned about - even the pony holding the balloon.

"She's gonna get killed," repeated Canary, in a normal speaking voice this time.

"Canary?" said Blitz, the first of the lot to use her proper name.

"Yeah?"

"I think that means you also feel that she's one of the good ones, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"So really, you're not angry about her escaping, per se. You're just concerned, aren't you?"

"What are you, my mother?"

"No, but it doesn't really take a mother to know where your heart is."

"Oh for Colt's sake, would you... just... stop with that fluffy manure and..."

"There isn't anything wrong with showing concern, Sergeant. But you don't have to express it so... violently."

"Are you trying to insinuate something?"

"Listen, Canary. Like you said, we're all in this now. So let's work together, not as police and outside hires, not as victims of a horrible crime, and not even as friends. But let's just work together because we all have a goal in common. Someone as realistic as you ought to appreciate that."

Canary grit her teeth. Her nail had been hammered.

"And really, all this running around and deflection isn't getting us closer to anywhere." said Blitz, facts cutting through Canary like a ceramic knife.

"Ju... Shut up, Berry!"

"I... didn't say anything, Sarge," cried Berry.

"Listen," Blitz continued. "You can tell me to shut up if you want to. I know you want to. Come on. It'll make you feel better."

She smiled at her, a little cocky smile, a smile that said that she knew what she was doing and she was right, and the annoying thing was, she actually did know what she was doing and she was right. And that stupid grin plastered all over her face... boy, it made Canary just want to...

"Sh... shut... up... Blitz," murmured Canary, through clenched teeth and a sweaty brow.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" beamed Blitz.

"SHUT UP! Alright. Fine. We're in it together. I hate to agree, because I hate to agree with anything, but you're right. So let's focus. Are we all in?"

Canary offered the first hoof out to the center of the quad. Almost immediately, as if drawn by a magnet, Berry's hoof bumped against it.

"Always here for you, Sarge!"

"Of course, I'm in as well," said Blitz, serenely, adding her hoof to the pile.

All three of them turned to look down at Flare, who still remained fallen over, head under one of the desks.

"Yeah, she's in as well," said Blitz.

"First order of business," said Canary, as Flare crawled dizzily out from under the desk. "We have a member who disappeared from us. From the entire station. I would love to know how she did it but I don't think that matters."

"She just left, Canary," explained Blitz. "It's really easy as that. I've been with her for a while and... believe me, I think she's capable. I don't know why I think that, but I do. She's got this crazy brain that works in ways that I can't even begin to comprehend, and I wouldn't put it past her to just want to do it enough to actually be able to."

"So how does this help us locate her?"

"Well, I don't think we can. Honestly, if she doesn't want to be found, I don't think any one of us could track her. But the good thing is, here's hoping that this cult can't track her either."

"Besides, Sarge, she's one of the five, remember? You said earlier," added Berry. "We're not targets, we're... uh..."

"Patrons."

"Yeah, and she'll be ok, I think."

"That's a shoddy assumption at best," Canary stamped on the ground with a clunk. "We're working off a billion-year-old weather forecast that even the Pegasus Teams don't know about. It's like Everfree weather. We should assume that she is in danger. Besides, hadn't that fella you keep seeing met her twice?"

"Well that's true," thought Blitz. "But to be fair, the first time was when we were both in her house, and the murderer obviously knew where her house was. The second time... I don't know about because I wasn't there, but she said he was just flying overhead."

"Um..." squeaked Flare.

"Got something to add, girl?" Canary narrowed her eyes at her.

"Um... yeah... I'm sorry about the trouble I caused earlier..." the dark-coated pony rubbed her hoof on the ground.

"Is this the same pony as just now?"

"We had a talk," explained Blitz.

"Huh. Alright. Was that all, little missy?"

"No..." continued Flare. "Um... I think when the murderer was... going to... drop... drop..."

"Come on, it's ok," comforted the cloud-haired matron of the group.

"Drop the body on me... and... I know this place well because I fly sometimes... the bar, Le Pouze? It's between Spiffington Estates and the Park in a straight line. Maybe she wasn't meant to see him, but she did because she's crazy and can see everything?"

"Yeah... maybe. She didn't say he went to bother her, right? Not like the first time. Just maybe," considered Canary. "So... she's just gone? And that's that?"

"For now, at least," said Blitz. "Should we think of other things?"

"Well Sarge, I've been thinking, and I reckon the evidence is a bit weird," offered Berry. "You know how from the start we keep finding out things, but the next set of things just keep sort of undoing what we figured out from the start?"

"Yeah?"

"It's like a bean in soup, Sarge."

"I think I see what you mean," said Blitz.

"Yeah, that makes sense," added Flare.

"... Am I missing something here?" exclaimed Canary. "What, is there a food-based language that I didn't learn in school?"

"Uh... it's like you have soup, Sarge. You're eating it, and it's really good, but sometimes you get a bean that fell in by mistake. It's not part of the soup, and it looks like the soup, and it feels like it belongs, but once you bite into it you get this horrible overpowering flavour of bean."

"So you're saying one of these pieces of evidence is a bean?"

"I thought that was... pretty clear the first time she said it," said Blitz.

Flare nodded in like.

"What the f..."

"So... I was thinking, if one of these pieces of evidence didn't belong, what then, Sarge?"

"Well, what are we looking at here?"

"Well, I'd need to confirm a few things first... but... the first crime scene had something to do with Miss Duriandal's shop, right? It was at her shop and was dropped off at the docks with the symbol of the Wicked Stable," Berry ran through.

"What's the significance of the docks?"

"Duriandal mentioned to me she always went there once in a while to stare at Cloudsdale," said Blitz, recalling one of their off-topic chats on the second day.

"So everything's sort of tied to Duriandal, for the first case," said Berry. "And then the second one, we have the house, and the park."

"What's the link?"

"I... I hate to make it sound like I'm involved in so much, but... I also know this," said Blitz.

"Do tell?"

"I've done statues for Spiffington and the park as well. Commission based. Just general decorations... Pillars and stuff. But they weren't the only places, for sure. My stuff goes everywhere."

"But the two locations, you have worked on before. And we also found one of your cloud things at the scene, too."

"Yes... that, and pieces that I've done specifically for Spiffington and the park... had to be restored due to vandalism," Blitz sighed.

"So... following that the criminals are targeting ponies who have committed some kind of sin, it wouldn't be too much to think... we've found the vandal," reasoned Canary.

"How... would they have known, anyway?"

"I don't know, do you keep a record of your sales or anything?"

"Yeah of course I do but... oh... oh," the look on Blitz froze into one of epiphany, but not of the good kind. "For crying out loud... when I left Duriandal just the other night it was to close my shop up because some pony had got in previously and left a cloud in my workshop. It ruined a bunch of things and my papers went everywhere. My ledger was open, I think I remember now."

"That's creepy!" said Berry.

"Yeah... yeah it is," intoned Blitz, still in that single calm voice. "I... can't believe they were in my home... right in my home."

"Everything from the second crime seems to point a finger at you, Blitz," said Canary. "But the body was dropped on Flare."

"I think that's where the bean comes in, Sarge," said Berry.

"I'm a bean?" asked Flare.

"No, I mean... like... everything's shifted. I have been having this strange feeling that this case isn't a normal case, Sarge."

"No manure, Hemlock."

"Well... I mean... The second murder points everything at Blitz, right? But... she was already involved back then, back during the first murder, where everything points to Duriandal."

"Go on?"

"Why would they make so much trouble to point a finger at Blitz when she was already involved?"

"Because... she wasn't supposed to be involved this early," Canary said slowly, trying to figure out how she enjoyed the taste of this particularly odd legume.

"And that's the bean, Sarge. I was thinking back at the very first day, if you remember, Sarge, Duriandal said that somepony had visited her and asked about the victim, right?"

"Yeah, that Twilight snot. What about her?"

"She's innocent, right?"

"I think so, yeah."

"But up until now... there really wasn't any purpose for her to be around. I was wondering where she fit in, but all it did was make us look her up."

"Well... that is true. Nothing about this case seems to say that either her or Princess Celestia is involved."

"What if she wasn't actually Twilight?"

"She wasn't, I thought we figured that out already. It was the murderer in disguise."

"What if it wasn't the murderer, Sarge?"

"Wait. Say that again?"

"What if she was somepony else... who was chucking a banana into the gears?"

"Wrench, Berry. You chuck a wrench in the gears... and where did you get this idea from anyway?"

"I was reading that book again, right? The one with the circles and the diagrams and stuff? And I figured, well, we assumed that this is all based on some kind of thing that happened long ago, right? But what if it's more than that? I mean, it's possible, right, Sarge?"

"What kind of 'more' are we talking about here?"

"Well... everything's really planned out so perfectly. This cult of Ouros? They know their stuff, and they know how to get around, and they know all of us and all of the victims, right?"

"Chilling thought, but yes. Let's go with that."

"And if anything, it seems like they're really following the cult's orders like a script, Sarge. They want to keep everything perfect."

"And you think that rather than somepony following this old legend, they really are the same ponies as in the legend?"

"Yeah, it seems like there's some weird old magic going on, Sarge. You know, the ancient kind."

"So everything is supposed to happen in order, according to the diagram."

"In a circle. It is like... the book talks about fate a lot, so I figure, maybe somepony's trying to mess with it. Maybe we're not even supposed to know as much as we are now, but... if you take out Twilight's appearance at the shop, I can't help but think that maybe things would be more according to plan."

"So someone else is trying to interfere in the business of the cult?"

"Maybe, Sarge. I dunno."

"You do realise, Berry, that there's absolutely no way to prove this whatsoever."

"Yeah there is, Sarge!"

"There is?"

"Yeah Sarge. Somepony once said to me that the key to understanding the present..."

"... can be found in the past..."

"Yeah, Sarge!" Berry beamed. She smiled like a child who had solved her first difficult math problem. She was happy to just be there, but she was even more happy to have made such an impact.

"I think I know what I need to do next," said Canary.

"I know you do, Sarge," said Berry, proudly.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 
The first thing that she did was take a deep, long whiff. The air here smelt different -it was fresher; more luxuriant. There were fewer things in the way, and each specific smell hit her as clear as if they were holding up signs.

There wasn't the tinge of musk and dirt that hung in the air like in Canterlot. There wasn't the business and the strife. Even though Canterlot was a lush, green place, there were still some parts of the city where things were simply muddled thanks to life as it was there.

Over here... the lilacs were in bloom, the wind carried the faint smell of pastries from over the way, and spiced honey hung about like a well-invited guest. It very much fell into the 'good' category of Duriandal's simple judgement system.

Even the air itself... the air had a sort of scent to it. Already the complex formulas required to create that specific smell were working themselves out in her head... but... there was something missing. Just one... unique smell that she had never smelt before, and what manner of item it could be was simply undecipherable. Was it organic? Mineral? Flora or fauna? What... was that?

The door to the library in front of her burst open, the whole wooden face swinging wide, as a very annoyed looking baby dragon stepped out, growling lowly to himself about some sort of Dashing Rainbow and some sort of Prank.

"Wet dragon!" Duriandal exclaimed, solving that mystery.

"... Yeah, never seen one before?" the little baby retorted, narrowing his eyes at Duriandal, droplets gathering off his snout and raining to the path. "Say... I've never seen you around Ponyville before..."

"Oh! I am... ah... I am sorry," stammered Duriandal, catching her sensibilities. "I am... visiting. From Canterlot."

"Canterlot, huh?" Spike said, shaking himself dry. Bits of water flew in Duriandal's direction, at which she stepped back instinctively.

"Ah... yes. I have... received a letter?"

The scroll was actually tied roughly around her little bit purse that hung around her neck. Without saddlebags, it was the most she could do under the circumstances.

"Oh no, that better not be what I think it is!" Spike pulled the letter from the string, opening it up and reading it.

"To... to whom it may concern," dictated Duriandal. "If this letter has reached you then I know my spell has worked. I have sent this letter to you, specifically, the closest one involved in the recent string of malicious murders that have been taking place in Canterlot. I believe we can work together to solve this mystery, for I may have information that you require. Please meet me at the Library in Ponyville at your most opportune moment."

"Uh..." said Spike, holding the letter in front of him, and suddenly wondering if he was holding it backward.

"And the... the letter was not signed... but this is the library of Ponyville, yes?"

"Yes it is, but..."

"Then you must be the one I am to meet with!"

"Not exactly..."

"Oh, a dragon! It is... most fortuitous that it is one as yourself," Duriandal felt a rising heat in her belly from all the excitement. It was almost too much. "Surely you have some arcane spells that will benefit the investigation tremendously, would you not?"

"I'm not..."

"Spike? Who is that?" a head poked out from behind the open doorway. A purple head.

One that Duriandal recognized almost instantly.

"You!" she said, all the excitement swirling out of her like water down a drain.

"Me?" said Twilight Sparkle.

"You're the one who... who... in my shop... you started... all of this! It was you!"

"Wait, who are you, again?"

Spike held the letter up like a flag, waving it around in his indignation of all these proceedings that were going on without his personal approval.

"Oh! You... you got the letter?" asked Twilight, a smile of her own coming to her face.

"Youuuuu!" pointed Duriandal at Twilight with an accusing hoof. Her breathing started to rag, as her focus intensified to a pinpoint over Twilight's face; everything else slowly blacking out.

"Whoa there!" Spike said. "Twilight, I think we're losing her!"

"Hey, take it easy!" exclaimed Twilight, rushing out of the house to see if there was anything that needed to be done.

Duriandal swallowed, but nothing went down. A desert had encroached upon her tongue and panic had caused most of her other bodily functions to seize up.

And the last thing she saw was that purple face, the one she was convinced was the start of all of this, as the light finally left and she dipped into the shallow dark.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'

 
"Alright, you'll hold the fort while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, of course Sarge! You can count on me!"

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I'll be back by tonight, latest. Depends on schedules and all that other manure. You make sure that everything goes smoothly, and keep working the case with the others, alright?"

"You got it, Sarge."

"And... if... anything..."

"Yeah Sarge, I'll wait for you if there's another victim."

"No, Berry. I... I want you to take it, alright? If I'm not around, you go ahead and run point."

"Really, Sarge?" Berry's eyes lit up brighter than her helmet.

"Yeah, but. But you better do it by the book and do it right, and take care of yourself, and take care of the others, alright?"

"By the book, Sarge," nodded Berry.

"Alright then, I'm off."

Canary stepped into the cart and strapped herself in. "Silver will return after she drops me off! I'll signal for her when I need a ride back!"

"You got it, Sarge!"

"And... and take care of yourself, alright?" repeated Canary.

"I will, Sarge! Promise!"

"Ehhh," Canary shook her head and grumbled to herself, facing toward her destination. "Whatever."
Berry's eyes followed the cart as it lifted up and took off toward the distance, watching her mentor leave the scene. A bit of pain filled her, a sort of squeezy feeling in her throat. But she turned, ever wondering what it was, as she walked back into the station.

Every new step took her further away from Canary, it seemed. This case was tearing them apart. It was so... so wrong to her, so unheard of. She was very excited to be in charge, of course, but at what cost? The team... the team was Berry and Canary. Always. And now once again she was alone. She didn't like this case. She really didn't.

But she had a job to do; the job that she tried so hard to get into. Struggling through academy, and flying in the face of conventional wisdom...

But she didn't really know anymore. Did she join for the job, or for...

Her mind went back to that day. A very specific day that changed everything that was about her.

But that day... was a memory now, for her, but not for Canary. Right now, memories served little in the face of what was more important, and with renewed vigour, she stormed into the presence of Blitz and Flare, who were waiting patiently for further news.

"Everything alright, Berry?" asked Blitz.

"Yeah, you look a little shaken," agreed Flare.

"Oh, oh, I'm fine! I'm fine!" Berry waved it off. "I.... ahahaha... jitters, you know. Tricky case... tricky."

"You... do seem to perform better when your boss is around," observed Blitz.

"No no, of course not. We're all professionals here. Ahhahaha... hah..ahah.."

"Alright, so... while Canary is off doing her thing, what about us? How can we help?"

"Well, we're to... ah... 'hold the fort', as it were. But more importantly, we should see if we can figure out who's the next target based on this... the Wicked Stable thing, yeah?"

"Yeah, that's a good place to start."

"And also, we ought to see if we can't think of where Duriandal might have gone."

"I... have no idea what might have persuaded her to take off like that. I mean... even despite what happened earlier," Blitz shot a forgiving glance at Flare. "It seems so unlike her. Granted, I haven't really known her for a long time, but... well. I know ponies."

"Well... what... do you figure she'd do right now?" asked Flare.

"She... she's very... troubled," Blitz scratched her head. "Things... are out of order. It's about order. Ever since this all happened it's been hard for her to keep things in order. She left pretty quickly, too. Didn't stop to say goodbye. She didn't want to be found, but I really don't think she'd just run away from it."

"She did show interest in helping earlier, even before Canary got the OK," said Berry.

"You don't think she's trying to like... solve this herself, do you?" approached Flare.

"She might. Too many things in her head and she can't concentrate, she told me once. Maybe she just went somewhere to sort things out."

"But that could be anywhere!" Flare grabbed at the air in frustration.

"The docks."

"The docks?" asked Berry.

"Yes. She'd be at the docks. Her little thoughtful spot. If anywhere, that'd be a good place to start."

"Well, that's a great start!" smiled Berry. "Ok, we'll keep that in mind, and then... ah... when Canary gets back we can try to find her."

"Very well, and then next...?"

"Next is... well, we really have no idea how these guys are targeting ponies, honestly, but... um..."

"Aw man, do we have to do this?" complained Flare.

"Come on, Flare, don't act up again," chided Blitz, her head tilting disapprovingly.

"No, no, I mean... argh," cried Flare frustratedly. "I'm... I'm next, aren't I? I don't wanna be thinking about it!"

"We... we don't know that," said Berry. "It could be me, it could be Canary."

"No no, it's me, I know it. I know it. Do you have any idea how stressful this is? I mean, you're basically asking me, 'Hey, Flare, if it wouldn't be too much of a problem, could you kindly tell us maybe which one of the ponies you know are going to be horribly murdered and dropped on somepony else'?"

"There's no evidence to suggest that they will dispose of the third body in the same way that they did for the second one..."

"That's not the point is it?! Argh!"

Flare flopped down on the desk in front of her, legs splayed out, letting her body slide slowly to the floor.

"There, there," said Blitz.

"Um... well... ah... I mean... if you could identify potentials... maybe we can narrow it down?" offered Berry.

"Yeah, I know tons of ponies, and... I don't... know!"

"Um... how many of those in Canterlot?" asked Berry, thinking about it a little.

"Should they be, though?" Blitz said.

"Well... I figure... um... thing is... there's a lot of choices in Cloudsdale, right? But yet... they still specifically targeted ponies from here, even though they went through the trouble to check you out.... So I guess there's a better chance that their next target will be someone who at least lives here."

"And what about you?" asked Flare. "What about, you know, targets of you and the Sergeant?"

"Well, we know very few ponies outside the police station," said Berry, slowly, lowering her voice. "My family and friends don't live here in Canterlot, and neither does Canary's. Most of the ponies we know... are standing in this room. We did consider the fact that the next few victims might be one of our... associates, but we didn't want to alarm anypony yet, so we're kinda keeping it quiet. Would appreciate if..."

"Of course," affirmed Blitz, under hushed tones.

"Everypony's been confined for the next few days under orders... we're even grounding Silver for a while. She's not gonna like that, but there's nothing else we can do."

"Well, there's also that business about those sins, right?"

"Yes, there is. Since this cult seems to be targeting ponies they deem sinful... maybe we can sort of figure out where they're going based on that, then?"

"So, ponies I know who live in Canterlot who've committed some sort of crime. That's a real big help there, you know? You've just narrowed down everypony I know to nearly everypony I know," Flare shot out, her sass returning.

"No, it's not just crimes, it's specific crimes," said Berry, pulling the book out again. "Look here..."

Flare pulled herself up to table-height and scanned the contents of the book, almost too quickly for anyone to believe she really bothered.

"What's all this moon-speak? I don't understand what these words are!"

"It's... regular words," said Berry. Even she understood most of it. What was this girl about? "Um... just... well it's those five there which are the important bits."

"What's 'hubris'? Is that even a word?"

Alright, I'll let her have that one, thought Berry.

"It means... um... ah..."

"Arrogance," said Blitz. "Haughtiness. Pride. Pretension. Condescension."

Both Berry and Flare turned to stare at her.

"I... do crosswords," explained the fluffy-haired puzzle lover.

"What's... what's trespass?"

"Well, you know those signs which say no trespassing or else we'll shoot you with an arrow?"

"Yeah, alright... uh... prejudice... that's like... hate without reason, right?"

"That's one way of saying it, sure," asserted Blitz.

"And ok... hypocrisy, that's... alright... and what's 'avarice'?"

"Greed. Especially for money."

"Why can't they just say 'greed'? Why must they go use all these big-flank words, anyway?" grumbled Flare.

"I think they want to sound important and mysterious," shrugged Berry. "Also this was pretty long ago. I think they just talked like that back then."

"Well they're stupid," declared Flare. "If they wanted to talk about greedy stupid ponies they should just say, greedy stupid... ponies..."

Flare's words trailed off into utterances as her eyes flickered, the faint signs of recognition appearing; slowly at first but then with prominence.

The other two tilted their heads at her in curiosity.

"Oh, no no no," murmured Flare. "No no no."

"Who is it, Flare?" asked Blitz, gently.

Flare made a 'tsk' noise, as if she were shamed to remember. "I know this one guy. Young colt. Used to work with the bakery. He was the Sous-chef, actually. Really, really talented, honestly. He moved to Canterlot after a falling out with the head baker."

"What's the link?" asked Berry.

"It's... it's that stupid greed thing! You idiots got me thinking, and... and... the argument? It was about, like... money. Bits. Thousands of bits. I remember the day. He left the bakery because he wanted to branch out, you know? Spread the bread, he said. Make tons of dough."

"Er... no pun intended," added Flare, as an afterthought.

"But the boss, he didn't wanna. He wanted, as he always did, to just make bread for ponies. You know, just to make 'em happy. I really respected that, I dunno. It wasn't about the money, he said. It was about the craft, and the fun, and he never minded me taking the old bread away, even."

"So when that flank-face asked me to go with him... I said no. I didn't wanna leave Cloudsdale anyway, and he was gonna shuffle off to Canterlot for the 'bigger market' or whatever."

"Doesn't sound like you like him very much," noted Blitz.

"Nah, I don't. Which is kinda what makes me a bit worried," said Flare dourly. "I have no idea where he is now or if he even was successful here or not, 'cause we all kinda wrote him off the day he left. But if it helps... the last place he said he'd go was Canterlot, and he stole all the recipes and techniques and stuff he learnt just to make a couple more bits."

"That'd fit the M.O.," said Berry.

"No kiddin'?" huffed Flare.

"Well, until Canary comes back, we're going to see if we can't do something," thought Berry out loud. There was, in reality, very little to go on. The truth was that there was seriously no way to tell who the next victim was going to be, but Berry'd be damned if she was just going to sit there and do nothing. They'd pretty much exhausted all other avenues of discussion already, and Canary was already working on that as fast as she could.

Best thing to do then, would be to just keep busy.

"Alright, did he have a name? We'll pull up some directories and start looking at local business listings. Maybe by some small chance we'll be able to find this pony of yours."

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'

 
"Are you sure this is going to work, Twilight?" asked Spike, carefully pulling the bottle out from the drawer. It was a tiny little thing, about the size of a bottle of nail varnish, but far more sinister-looking. With frosted green glass, the thick rubber stopper and ribbed surface, everything about the bottle warned its holder against opening it without dire warning.

The other clue to its contents would be the clothes peg that Spike had wisely decided to clamp around his nose, and a carefully writ label upon the bottle that read 'Spirite of Hartshorne' in cursive.

"I mean, isn't this stuff poisonous or something?"

"Yes, but Zecora was pretty clear on its use! She told me, only for emergencies, and this is a pretty big emergency, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah but how would, you know, poisoning an unconscious pony help?"

"We're not feeding it to her, Spike! She's only going to smell it!"

"I dunno, Twilight, I've never heard about smells that can wake up a pony."

"It's not the smell itself, Spike," Twilight explained. "Zecora told me it was about some sort of chemical inside it... or something. But she did say it smelt pretty foul."

"I see you're not too concerned," Spike noted Twilight's lack of a peg herself.

"Oh, how bad could it be? Anyway, let's bring it to her. Come on, Spike!"

Holding it out at arm's length, by the very tip of it, like he was carrying a bag of vomit, Spike inched it out of Twilight's bed-nook and brought it downstairs, to the main floor of the library.

On a couch that had been hastily constructed out of a few dozen pillows and not much else, Duriandal lay, solidly unconscious. It was the stress, all the rush, the beating of the heart and the roller-coaster of different emotions that had overloaded the poor girl, and no matter what she thought or how exciting she told herself it was, her body had just decided to take a short break for a moment.

If that meant leaving her blanked out on the floor, then that was just a side effect of the natural preservation of more important things.

Of course, importance was relative, and it was quite lucky that she happened to collapse on the doorstep of a pony who wouldn't otherwise do something more nasty than attempt to use previously-untested medicines on her.

Nasty was relative, too.

Her breathing was shallow, but she had the look of such serenity and peace upon her face that it almost seemed a shame to drag her out of it. Spike had mentioned that it might be better to let her sleep, but no, Twilight said, there's important crimes to solve and things to do, and this couldn't wait. Besides, she had gone down thinking that Twilight was actually somehow involved and believe you me Twilight'd be having none of that.

"Over here, Spike!" she said cheerfully, rolling Duriandal onto her back. Her legs flopped in the air, like Winona did whenever Applejack scratched her stomach. "Alright, so... all we have to do is open the bottle and..."

Gingerly, and from a great distance, Spike prised the stopper from the bottle, wisely deciding not to get too close to the sleeping pony just in case. A foul stench erupted from within, diffusing throughout the room and creeping across the air toward Twilight and her guest.

"Ugh, oh, man! The peg, it does nothing!" yelled Spike.

"It's not that bad, Spike," said Twilight, just as the odour caught up with her. "In fact, I can't really smell anythi... augh! What is that?!"

"It's in my mouth, Twilight! It's like rotten eggs and socks!"

"Cap it back! Cap it back!" flustered the Unicorn, starting to run in a circle.

"It's like Rainbow Dash after a week in an oven!"

"Ugh!" Twilight rushed past, snatching the bottle out of Spike's hands and floating it to the nearest window, where it was thrown with as much magic as she possibly could toward the distant forest.

"Twilight, that was terrible!"

"I know! Ok? I know! I'm sorry, I had no idea it was that strong!"

"Well, looks like it's working though, look!" Spike pointed at the pillow pile, which had begun to move, tiny movements coming from it like a hatching egg.

"Wow, Zecora said we'd have to hold the bottle under the nose of the fainted pony," said Twilight. "Maybe she made it extra strong, or something?"

They both, peg still secure over Spike, and Twilight holding a rag to her face, approached the sleeping form of Duriandal, as she twitched more and more, her eyelids fluttering and her ears flicking. Calmly, and beautifully, like the rise of a slumbering princess, her eyelids finally separated, a genuinely serene look brought onto her expression.

And then, like the turning of the weather, it began to darken.

Twilight and Spike both took a step back as she suddenly jolted upward, her front hooves pressed firmly against her nose, holding in whatever precious little un-adulterated air she had left in her lungs.

There came a sound from her throat like a halting scooter, wheels screeching against tar and asphalt, before she scrambled, with a lot of difficultly, over a trap of pillows. Without the use of half of her limbs, it was a pretty interesting sight, as she pulled herself over the edge and crawled toward one of the adjoining rooms of the library.

And then, as Twilight and Spike both turned, watching with stunned silence at her disappearance behind the door-frame of the reading hovel, another sound came - wet, sticky, and spongy, accompanied by the upheaving noises of a pony whose health wasn't getting much better.

"Uh... Spike?" said Twilight.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get the mop," the dragon replied.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

As soon as Canary stepped off the cart, which landed on the front lawn of the overwhelming building, in front of the drawbridge, she was already being greeted by the very single pony she had come to see. Somehow, she wasn't at all surprised.

Celestia knew everything.

Although she would find that even 'everything' had its limits.

Still, for this case, Canary had the burning sensation to ask, even as she bid Silver farewell and told her to bunker down at the station and wait for her signal. Even as she purposefully watched Silver go, turning her back to the lord and ruler of Equestria, who stood there calmly and patiently, taking personal time out of her busy schedule to wait. Even as she took her own sweet time to turn around because she really hated being the first one to talk in these kinds of situations.

But she also knew why Celestia was so patient in this case; because she wanted Canary to talk first. She wanted to make her approach the things she didn't enjoy approaching, and Celestia was perhaps the best pony in the world to do that.

And Canary knew, the sad part was only because Celestia was just as much of an observer and manipulator of pony behaviour as some of the more evil ponies that she herself had encountered before. And she started to wonder if there was a difference.

"Good day, princess, nice weather we're having," she scowled.

The sun shone down, blazing its way through the scattered clouds and perfect sky. It was as blue as they came, today, and the mild heat, despite the beating rays, made it more than perfect for any contention of the title of 'nice weather'.

"Is it really? I hadn't noticed," said Princess Celestia. "And what brings you here today, Canary? It's so rare for you to make house calls; in fact, I dare say usually it's I who visits you..."

"Really, Princess? Must we... do this?"

"Why, I haven't the faintest what you're talking about, dear Canary," Celestia said, astonished, with a highly exaggerated voice. She wasn't even bothering to hide the fact that she was putting on airs. "I was simply standing outside my castle and watching the birds. Possibly that's why I didn't notice the weather - how could I take notice of my surroundings when I have a canary to focus on?"

"Princess, I've come to ask for your audience," Canary cut to the chase.

"Well then, it's quite fortunate you've caught me at my one free time during these trying days, haven't you?" she smiled down at her. "Very well, follow me, and let us move to the Hall of Windows."

She strode, with all her regality, across the bridge and into the castle, with Canary keeping a close second behind. Canary never walked side by side with her if possible; it felt odd. But it was something that Celestia always insisted on. She never put herself before another if she could help it.

"Canary," she asked, leading them down the grand halls of her castle, "The case you're currently working on, these... murders, these horrible crimes. How far along are you in your investigations?"

"It is why I have come to ask you for your time, Princess. We have reason to believe that the murderers are linked to a part of history that occurred long before our time. We were hoping that you could shed some light on the subject for us."

"Oh?" Celestia asked, in mock surprise. "You don't say. Strange, is it not?"

"What... is, Princess?"

"That the reason why I was looking for you was for the exact same reason. Certain lights are dim, and I was hoping that you could, in fact, turn up a few for me."

"Princess... I... do not wish to insinuate anything, but I am fairly sure you already know everything we do and more."

Celestia stopped in place, hooves gently falling to the stone floor without a single tap.

"Hah!" she burst out with a smile, the sound echoing off the tall ceilings.

"Beg... beg your pardon?"

"Hah," she repeated, in a normal speaking voice. "I am amused."

"Did... I say something, Princess?"

"This way, Canary," she continued walking, turning right at a corridor onto a carpeted section of the hall. "Yes, your belief that I somehow am privy to all the information in Equestria is quite refreshing. I had expected that you, of all other ponies, wouldn't consider such insensibilities. But, to clarify, no. I do not somehow know everything, and to tell you the truth, most of what I know simply comes from talking to the good people of the land such as yourself."

"But, Princess, you knew I was coming. You know what this is about. You know that there's something more to this case, don't you? Otherwise..."

"Oh, yes. I know that much, at least. What I do not know, however, is the name. Something that I believe you have figured out thanks to your tireless efforts."

"The name, Princess?"

They halted in the middle of a path that split three ways. Each were long passageways that held gracious amounts of decor, from hanging banners to the wall-to-wall velvet lining. But more noticeable were the stained-glass windows - gigantic huge ones - that adorned each section like towering giants watching over the paths they protected.

The light that streamed in cast strange shadows upon the surfaces opposite; a kaleidoscope of colour and form.

"By the second murder, I had begun to take notice that certain things were... odd. Slightly wrong. The same conclusions that you had come across, no doubt. I have heard, of course, that there were certain messages left at each scene. Something that warranted further research."

"Of course, Princess."

"But believe it or not, when I made my way to my library, somepony had taken off with a few books; books that contained certain information that I required. Would you believe that?"

"Ah... yes... Princess... I think I see where you're getting at..."

"Incredible, isn't it, that the very things that I required simply just up and vanished? Such a coincidence. Well, more than that, it simply meant that somepony had figured out something much earlier than I had; to the point where they had actually pre-empted my actions. Such a thing..."

"Princess..."

"... is to be commended."

"... ah..."

"Canary, would you like a tissue? You seem to be perspiring quite a bit."

"No... thank you, Princess."

"Well, needless to say, I was stuck at the point of the Wicked Stable. I couldn't go further, but luckily, along came somepony with the information I require. There are a few... old legends that I can vaguely recall that have to do with this Stable thing; it was a fairly popular set of vices way back then. I'd like to know specifically, from your research, which one of these legends I might be dealing with."

"The cult of Ouros, Princess."

"I see."

And she said nothing more, but turn sharply to the right, continuing down the respective path. Along the way were there dozens of windows, all of which showed some strange beast of some kind. There were monsters and ghosts and figures of shadow; there were homunculi and patchwork monsters, and that strange one that looked like each individual part of him was made out of different animals...

"Here we are," said Celestia, finally stopping at a window down the far end. "Ouros."

Canary had to strain her neck to look to the very top, and even then, she couldn't capture the entire thing at once even if she pressed herself to the opposite wall. It was a magnificent cut-out of crystal, each shard telling a story, and each story playing out like a still-frame of a macabre show captured forever in show.

At the top were those five circles that had been in the diagram of the book. Each symbol, however, was clearly drawn out now, free for Canary's perusal. They were joined by a circle, again, with that strange shape sticking out of the top. It had been the second instance of that form, and Canary was curious now.

The difference was that this window did not hold the upside-down horseshoe print of the Stable, and neither did it have much else in the way of design. Comparatively, it was fairly plain.

At the bottom of the window stood a silhouette of a pony. Its form was plain, its stance regular. There was nothing menacing or particular about it, except for the cutie mark that it had emblazoned upon its flank - a sort of spiky circle thing that Canary could not quite recognize.

"Well, this is..."

"Underwhelming?"

"Yeah, little bit, Princess. Won't lie."

"This is all we have. The cult of Ouros. All we have is a legend."

"Princess... what are they?"

"I do not know."

"You don't know?"

"No. Surprise you as much as it does, but I do not know. I've never encountered this pony before personally, and I do not know much else but the old memories of many years ago."

"There has to be something, Princess."

"Well, all I know is that what is going on now is the same thing that happened a few times before in the past. And when I say past, I mean far, far into the past. I believe the last time we had encountered the cult was a little over a thousand years ago. Essentially it was the same back then as it is now. Strange murders would happen, each a day apart, all of whom are left with signs and symbols of which you already know of - a set for the murdered and a set for the other five. And then... they'd just disappear."

"There's two sets of symbols, Princess?"

"Oh yes."

"We've only found one set... marking the victims."

"The other set is left with the ones who represent their opposites."

That gave Canary pause. At least, if they'd found that, then they'd know who the 'good' five were. But they hadn't come across anything like that yet, had they?

"As the old story goes, before each victim is killed, they will look in the mirror and be judged, and then they will repay their sins by laying the path for Ouros."

"And who is this Ouros figure, anyway?"

"It was the leader of the group. He or she was referred to as Ouros by the local populace when they struck, and the name just stuck around in legend. It is represented by the symbol of a snake in a circle."

"So that's what that thing is," Canary said to herself, looking at the cutie mark.

"Yes. It is the symbol of the Ouroboros. Have you heard of it before?"

"Can't say that I have, Princess."

"It's an old, ancient symbol, one of a snake eating its own tail. Long ago it used to symbolise fate, and the circle of life, and such other things. It was always about the futile nature of ponies and how we were all cursed to repeat our lives over and over. You see that diagram at the top there, Canary?"

"Yeah. It was in the book, too."

"That represents the five that the cult had deemed 'free' of this cycle of repetition. The five who represented, to them, the ones who had the ability to show virtue in sin. It was to these five whom they sought to deliver the sinful, as a strange odd sort of tribute."

"And those symbols..."

"Each represent the virtues, yes. Tolerance. Advocate. Humility, Honesty and Generosity."

"I'll have to remember them."

"Yes... perhaps it would be for the best. And this is all we know of this group."

"That isn't much to go on, Princess."

"I'd hate to say you've wasted a trip here, but unfortunately, I might just not have what you so desperately require."

"Princess, I'm trying to save lives out there!" Canary suddenly exploded, unable to hold in her patience. "There's two dead already, and three more to come! How am I supposed to go on with nothing?!"

"By doing what you always do, Canary," Celestia responded, patiently.

"And how am I supposed to do anything if I don't know anything?!"

"Well, Canary, it's fate. That's what the cult says, anyway. We've never been able to stop them before. Maybe it's just something that we can't do because it's always meant to happen."

"I refuse... I refuse to accept that!" yelled Canary, her voice echoing down the castle. "You can't stand there and tell me it's just fate while... ponies die! I don't care if it's fate! I'll find a way to change it!"

A sly smile crept into Celestia's face.

"Oh... oh for manure..." Canary tilted her head up and back, staring into her own skull. She lowered her voice again, finally realising she had been, quite embarrassingly, playing cards with the princess.

"Good!" said Celestia, much more cheerful than someone should be after having been yelled at. "I just wanted to hear that."

"You could've asked, Princess."

"There's no fun in that. Besides, I needed to know your convictions. And I wanted to know how true they were before I gave you this next bit of information."

"Is it that important?"

"Oh, yes, Canary. You see, this really isn't a normal case you're dealing with here."

"You're just about the third pony to tell me that today, Princess."

"So let me reassure you. If you want to continue down this path that you're on, you are not going to find it easy. You are not going to enjoy it, and I assure you, you are going to end up having to make some tough choices. It is inevitable."

Canary just listened.

"But let me also let you know that although we have never been able to stop them before, something rather different is happening here. I believe... by some twist of fate, that you are in it deeper than you already think, Canary. Do you agree?"

"Long ago, Princess. I figured out that I was one of the benefactors a while back."

"Although you're probably not represented by the 'humility' virtue, are you?"

"Princess, please!"

"Hah! Well, the difference between this time and all the times before, is that the benefactors are fighting back. Really, you five are just as much victims as the ones who are murdered. No one need suffer through what you are suffering through, but while every group in the past were satisfied to let fate have its way, you, and I hope the rest of you as well, are doing something to change it."

"You damn right we are."

"Language, Canary. Now. I'll tell you something else that isn't going to be easy, but you should be able to handle it, which is why I needed to know how serious you are."

"I'm all ears, Princess."

"Ouros employs a very ancient, very particular sort of magic. It is the magic of fate. You said you'd find a way to change it, right? I hope you the very best because that's exactly what you'll have to do."

"Excuse me? Fate? As in, fate fate?"

"Oh yes, now when it comes to actually thinking about it, it doesn't seem so simple any longer, does it? Anyway, part of the magic is that it defines its targets in advance. Before the cult disbands, they craft a tablet of some sort. It is a portend of warning for the next time they arrive. Now, the tablet doesn't indicate specifically who the targets are, but it does show where they will take place, and which virtue the murder is for. If you had this tablet, you would be able to perhaps prevent the next few murders from occurring, yes?"

"Well... it's certainly better than nothing, Princess. Where's the tablet?"

"Lost."

"What?!"

"Lost. Actually, not really lost because we never found it in the first place. I'll be honest. It was a big oversight, but I was a thousand years younger back then, and I won't be ashamed to admit that I have made my share of mistakes. Besides, after their most recent dispersal, something else cropped up that put me in a fairly bad mood for a long time."

"Your..."

"Yes, that's right. Water under the bridge though."

"How am I supposed to find something that even you couldn't find?"

"Didn't find. Although, would you like to know where Ouros last vanished?"

"Don't keep me waiting."

"Little place called Ponyville."

"Ponyville..."

"Yes. I believe the actual site is now some sort of apple plantation of some sort. You might want to go check it out as soon as possible."

"Princess?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I... have to ask."

"Of course."

"You've known about this tablet for all this time... and yet you tell me that you were never able to avert the murders before? What makes you so sure that we can do it this time?"

"Because, dear Canary." Celestia smiled, "fate usually can only be changed from the inside."

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'

 
A pin flew into a fold, and a pair of scissors made a cut just right. Fabric fell over fabric as a dress came up slowly in shape; just ever so perfect in so many ways.

Perfection was all that she demanded. Nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't that hard, you know. Making perfection just meant having to live perfection, and there wasn't anything wrong with that.

"Oh yes, just... beautiful!" squealed Rarity, satisfied with the length of that hemline.

And it was just ever such a coincidence that like her bolts of cloth, her day, too, was about to be cut short, as a knock on the door interrupted her, and Opal from her nap.

She wrenched the glasses off her face and lay them carefully down upon the table, as she spoke out loud to her pet cat, as she normally did.

"Oh, now who could that be? I was so certain I left the store closed for the day, my dear. I simply can't have these interruptions!"

But she never expected that.

Not, as she threw open her front door, and as the colour drained even further from her face, which was already quite a feat as it was.

"Oh... my..."

"Heh... heh... hi, Rarity," grinned Twilight shamefully. "Uh... we kind... of need your help."

"Her... her hair, it looks like she has been through a storm!"

"I think she... might have been," said Twilight, magically dragging Duriandal into the shop. She wasn't fighting back; she lost her energy when she lost her stomach a while ago. Now, with her half-shut eyes and assaulted senses, she hovered a thin line between falling unconscious again and wishing she had stayed that way.

"And... oh dear, what is that awful, awful smell?"

"Don't ask, Rarity. Please."

"And... is that vomit?"

"Rarity, can you get her back into... working condition?"

"Just who do you think you're talking to? I'll have her in the pink of condition in no time at all!"

"I know you're not a doctor, Rarity but..."

"Nonsense, dear! Why, just look at her! This poor pony doesn't need first aid! She needs a makeover!"

"I sure hope you're right, Rarity."

"Come on, let's get her to the bath."

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'

 
"Alright. Here's the plan," said Canary, with determination, storming back into the station and not even giving the others a chance to greet her. Even Berry had to take a moment to realise whom it was who was suddenly talking.

"We have very little time, so... before we go on, anything I should know, Berry?"

"Uh... yeah Sarge, hi, by the way. Uh... we have a sort of lead. Two of them, actually. One is that we might know who the next target is."

"Alright. And what else?"

"We might know where Miss Duriandal has gone, Sarge."

"Where?"

"We think maybe she went to the docks."

"Well, isn't that fantastic. That's where I'm headed anyway."

"You're heading off again, Sarge?" drooped Berry.

"Yes. We don't have the luxury of time. I'll explain when we get back, but I need to find something, really fast, and really soon. And I'm going to need help."

"You got it S..."

"Miss Blitz," Canary interrupted. "I am extremely sorry to have to do this on such short notice, but I will need your help. Could you come with me?"

"Well, of course, but, what's this all about?"

"I'll explain on the way."

Berry felt her heart tighten, like a noose was strung around it. As soon as she heard that name... the name that wasn't hers...

"Sarge?" she asked, slowly.

"Yeah, Berry?"

"Uh... couldn't I come with you? I mean, we gotta work the case together, right?"

"Yeah, you could, but you're going to need to stay here. There's going to be bad things happening while I'm away, and you're going to have to handle it, alright?"

"But, Sarge..."

"Berry... listen," Canary said, softly. "I know, alright? I know. It isn't going to be easy, but you know what? I trust you. No matter what you do, no matter how strange you do things... I trust you. And this is why I'm asking you to stay here and help me. I trust you to be able to protect yourself and all the other ponies in this entire damn city, all the way from the walls to the edge. I trust you to be able to do it without me having to look over your shoulder. And I trust you to know that I've also got a job to do and lives to save, and if we need to be apart for a while... that's the breaks."

"O... ok, Sarge," said Berry. "Thanks. I'll do a good job. Promise."

"Yeah, I know. Now listen. You and Flare, you are going to stay here, and follow up on that lead, alright?"

"Alright, Sarge."

"And I and Miss Blitz will be back before you know it."

Canary turned about-face, and started off again, nearly instantly. "Come on, Blitz Breeze, Silver's keeping the cart warm outside."

"But where are you going, Sarge?" yelled Berry at her, as she left.

"I'm going to go find a map, Berry!"

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

The Princess of Equestria entered the room. It was dark, moody. Secretive. It was a room that held plenty of hushed whispers and quiet callings. Even the raiser of the sun had her colours muted as she strolled to the center of the shadows and spoke to no one in particular.

"You were right," said Celestia. "It was as we feared."

"That is unfortunate," a voice replied.

"But the wheels are turning."

"Yes, I started them."

"But where will the wheel stop, I wonder?"

"I wonder indeed."

...

"What shall you do from here, Celestia?"

"I think... it's time you told me everything that you know," she replied.

 
MEZZO

The cloaked figure flew, as easily as any Pegasus, through the night sky, only looking down once every so often to make sure that the path was straight and true.

Wherever eyes were laid, things were revealed; that was the gift and the power.

But even gifts and powers held no accountability for the one who was being chased.

The figure landed, and did not even wait before breaking into a run.

This was the second, and time was not kind.

Time was never where you needed it, and in this place, under the howling winds and rains that did not let up for a day, and would not let up for a few days to come, time was simply too little too late.

The figure looked at the tablet hovering in front of the darkness that obscured facial features and recognizable sights. It was no use; it was far too dark to make it out.

But this was the place, definitely. There was a feeling. There was a knowledge.

But there was also a sign.

The body hadn't even been discovered. There was no need to.

Already, painted on the underside of a stone outcropping; where the rains did not touch, was a horseshoe; laughing and mocking the figure.

And the figure spent three seconds looking at the symbol, allowing that one moment of regret and recognition, before taking back to the skies.

END MEZZO