//------------------------------// // Amethyst 2B: Room 401 // Story: Lost Legacies // by AkibaWhite //------------------------------// The interior of Room 401 was a barren cube of white walls and linoleum flooring. It had not a single defining feature save for one barred window of textured glass. One Liner looked about the empty chamber with a skeptical glare. "Creative decorating? Am I missing something, Director?" Director Redheart fished a thick black cylinder out of her coat and set it on the linoleum. "Twilight, I believe you know how to light one of these." "A blackflame candle?" Twilight asked with a tilt of her head. "Sure, but that would only reveal . . ." Her voice trailed off as the realization dawned on her. She looked at Redheart with wide eyes. The director shut the door, drowning the room in total darkness. "Go ahead." Twilight Sparkle gulped and did as she'd been instructed, summoning forth her magic and its pinkish aura. A flame of deepest violet flickered to life on the candle's wick. One second later, the walls of the room erupted in swatches of neon blue. One Liner let out a loud whistle. Twilight stared at the myriad strokes and symbols that now coated the walls in open-mouthed horror. "Is that . . . Was this all . . ." "Blood," answered Director Redheart. "Screw Loose left us a room painted red the night she disappeared. It was cleaned after the investigation, of course, but we'd have to repaint the walls to get out the stains that blackflame can see." She gave the chamber's other two occupants a sideways glance. "Do I need to remind you that she was wearing a straightjacket in a bare room with no sharp objects?" Twilight swallowed audibly. "What if she bit her tongue?" "Seems unlikely," Liner responded. "Look down." Twilight did just that. "It's clean." Liner began to pace about. "Just imagine trying to keep a mouthful of water from dripping while sticking out your tongue. All you'd do is make a mess." He sighed. "One scenario after another of earth ponies doing things that earth ponies can't . . ." Liner noticed Twilight move closer to one of the walls. "Miss Sparkle?" Twilight looked up and down at the rows of symbols before her. "I know this," she said quietly before turning about and repeating herself in a louder voice. "I know this!" Redheart squinted. "Know what?" Twilight tapped a hoof to the wall. "This is Ancient Equestrian." "Ancient?" asked Liner. "As in the way Princess Luna talks?" "No, that's just an old dialect," Twilight corrected as she returned her attention to the symbols. "This is the earliest known form of written language in Equestria—it hasn't been seen outside of historical documents in over two millennia." Her voice had taken on the tone of an enraptured scholar as she continued to examine the markings. "Director, do you have something I could copy this down with?" Redheart nodded. "I'll go get my clipboard." Liner scratched at his stubble as the director left the dimly-lit room. "What sort of pony would write in a dead language?" Twilight turned back to the wall. "To the best of my knowledge, only three or four of Equestria's top linguists can write in Ancient Equestrian. It's not as hard to read it, though. There's at least ten scholars I know of who could manage that." "Can you read it?" "That depends." Twilight walked over to the left wall and stared hard at a large section that seemed to be little more than random smudges. "Normally I'd just need to get a copy home to the library and dust off my old reference books, but the exordium is missing." Liner raised an eyebrow. "The what?" Twilight sighed. "Ancient Equestrian is written in characters, not letters. It stems from a logographic system of writing that was developed as a means of communication between disparate pony tribes, primarily for trading purposes. The image-based characters were easier to understand for ponies who spoke different native tongues, but that lead to the use of thousands of unique characters instead of a simple alphabet of 26 letters." She tapped a hoof to the smudges. "Because it was such a pain to remember and write out all these characters, every piece of writing had an introductory portion called the 'exordium.' It contained all of the nouns referenced in the rest of the piece so that they didn't have to be written over and over again." She shook her head. "I'm sure it made things quicker back in the olden days, but it also means that if you don't have the exordium, the rest of the text just reads as gibberish." She giggled a bit. "This language died out for a reason, you know?" Twilight's mild chuckle stopped abruptly. She looked down at the floor. "Miss Sparkle?" asked Liner. "Sorry, it's just that I—" Twilight sniffed heavily and gave Liner an uncertain smile. "I'm looking at blood-covered walls in a psych ward so that we can track down a criminal who wants to hurt my friend, but the minute I see something that piques my interest I just start rambling on like a zoned-out university professor." She averted her eyes. "Is there something wrong with me?" "Not at all," answered Liner. "The ability to bypass one's emotions and focus on the task at hoof is an advantage in any line of work. Besides, what you call 'rambling' has impressed upon me just how unusual the appearance of this language really is. I think I'm starting to put some of the pieces together." Liner's mild praise seemed to clear the doubt away from Twilight's expression. "Really?" "Let's start with a question of quantity," Liner said as he began to pace about. "Putting aside the fact that an earth pony seems to be waving around feats of magic that would flummox even Princess Celestia's brightest student, which is more likely, that one pony has this capability, or two?" Twilight raised an eyebrow. "One, of course." "Screw Loose disappears from a locked room after one week of treatment with the experimental anti-psychotic Ventium," Liner continued. "About one-and-a-half years later, a pony calling herself Three Strike disappears from a locked hotel room and leaves behind an empty bottle of the same drug. At some point between these two events, several bottles of Ventium disappear from the inside of a magic barrier in the hospital where Screw Loose was kept." He stopped and dusted off his fedora. "I believe that we're dealing with one pony here, not two. The color-shifting that Director Redheart described could easily explain any differences in appearance." He tucked the hat underneath his arm again and narrowed his eyes. "If Three Strike hadn't been wearing that uniform, we might have seen the unchanging screw of Screw Loose's Cutie Mark." He scratched at the stubble on his chin once more. "If I'm right, then that was deliberate on her part." "Whoa, hold on a second," Twilight interrupted. "Three Strike may have had some anger issues when she came by the library but she seemed pretty composed otherwise. How could the Screw Loose that Director Redheart told us about manage that kind of self-control, especially over the year-and-a-half since she escaped?" "Good question," said Liner. "I think that's where Ventium fits into the equation." "The failed anti-psychotic?" One Liner shook his head. "No drug makes it through to the testing phase without some expectation of success. Ventium was made to work." Twilight sat back on her haunches. "Okay, then why would it only work on one pony? Isn't that kind of a stretch with only one event to base it on?" "Not one event—four events." Twilight cocked her head to the side. "Huh?" Both of Liner's eyebrows went up. "I thought you'd pick up on that one, Miss Sparkle. Tell me, why is there no such thing as a Teleport Potion?" Twilight's mind automatically reached back to the appropriate magic text in her memory. "Teleportation is one of the most mentally strenuous forms of magic, to the point that unicorns without a matching Cutie Mark are incapable of teleporting anything other than inanimate objects. A high degree of active control is needed to move every molecule of a living creature from one place to another in the same arrangement and with the same starting inertia. Even a small mistake could . . ." "Exactly," said Liner. "Neither invisibility nor incorporeality could explain these disappearances, so this pony is teleporting by some method. Do you think that Screw Loose could be capable of such a feat in her original mental state?" Twilight blinked hard and let out a loud groan. "Oh, this is so confusing! How would she be doing this anyway? An earth pony can't cast magic! Even if she had help, there still would have been magic residue!" Liner walked over and placed a sure hoof on her shoulder. "Calm down, Miss Sparkle. Did you notice that I haven't mentioned anything about Ancient Equestrian yet?" Seeing Twilight look up at him with open questioning eyes, Liner coughed and lowered his hoof. "I was simply introducing the quandary that I had no answer for before your lecture. Now it seems fairly clear to me that there is one unsavory hypothesis that fits all the facts gathered thus far." A grave silence hung on the air for a few moments afterward. Twilight felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Something about Liner's ominous tone and the ethereal image of a room swirling with dark violet light and neon blue symbols unsettled her deeply. "Consider the following," said Liner. "One, Screw Loose has made use of abilities that resemble the effects of magic but conform to none of the limitations that we know to bind magic." Twilight nodded. "Two, Screw Loose appears to be fluent in Ancient Equestrian, a dead language that has served no functional purpose in over 2000 years." Twilight nodded once more, though she felt a chill run through her body. Some part of her knew exactly where Liner was going with this. "Three," said Liner, his face more serious than Twilight had thought possible. "Screw Loose was brought in to the Ponyville Memorial Neurological Treatment Ward mere days after Discord, a tyrant from ancient history, turned the country upside-down with magic that seemed to have no limitations whatsoever." Twilight's expression transitioned from alarm to skepticism in the breadth of a few seconds. "You think that Discord is behind this? You think that he . . . I don't know, empowered Screw Loose? That he gave her the ability to write Ancient Equestrian?" Liner gave a grim smile. "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Can you think of another line of reasoning that connects all the available facts?" Twilight's mouth opened as if to respond, but she halted the motion and shook her head slowly. "Well, it still leaves a lot of unanswered questions," said Liner. "Why would Discord bother with such an indirect strategy when he appeared to be victorious? Why just one pony and not all the ones he discorded? Could such a transfer of power and information have been accidental?" He sighed. "And let's not forget the most important question: what would a pony empowered by Discord want with your friend Derpy Hooves? The theory fits, but it's full of holes." Twilight smiled softly in the dim light. "Even so, that's a pretty amazing theory to come up with in such a short time." Liner looked taken aback by the compliment. "That's kind of you to say, Miss Sparkle, but everypony has their special talent." He pulled back the folds of his trenchcoat to reveal the Cutie Mark emblazoned on his brown-furred flank, a single vertical line of deepest black. "The surest line from question to answer is the one that requires the least deviation. Finding that one straight line among infinite possibilities is my particular gift." "Really?" said an older feminine voice. "That's why you're called One Liner?" Both ponies in the room turned to see Director Redheart standing in the open doorway. "Yes," Liner replied. "Why would you think my name meant something else?" Redheart shrugged and put on a disarming smile. "No reason. Here you go, Twilight." She pulled a paper-laden clipboard and quill pen from the folds of her lab coat and released it to the unicorn's magic. "Sorry that took so long. I ran into a minor emergency on the way. So, have you two managed to make any sense of all this?" "Quite a bit actually," said Liner as he straightened his coat, "but nothing conclusive just yet. I hope you don't mind if the information stays with my team for the time being—this isn't the kind of thing we want spreading around until we have all the facts." "Fine by me," quipped Director Redheart. "I wasn't exactly burning with curiosity in the first place. I just thought this might help with your case somehow." Liner gave a courteous bow. "And it has. Thank you, Director." He began to rummage through in the pockets of his trenchcoat. "I'd also like to have my forensics expert give the room one last examination, just in case." Redheart shrugged once more. "Not a problem. This whole section hasn't been used in months. It'll be waiting for you." One Liner found the object of his search: a notebook overflowing with multicolored documentation. He flipped it open on the floor. "Miss Sparkle?" Twilight looked up from the floating clipboard and turned back to the detective. "I'm terribly sorry about this," said Liner, "but I need to get in contact with the V.C.U. and start following up on these new leads right away. I don't think I can trust in Sheriff Badge's competency any longer." He reached down and pulled a yellow notice from the book that read "Crime Scene — Do Not Enter" before speaking around the piece of paper now held between his teeth. "It's a lot to ask and I know the exordium is missing, but could you take a stab at translating this once you're done?" "Of course," Twilight replied amicably. "I'm the best you've got, right? I'll let you know as soon as I have something." Liner flipped the notebook back into his trenchcoat. "I can't thank you enough, Miss Sparkle." He nodded to Redheart. "Director." As he made to leave the room, Twilight called after him. "Detective Liner?" Liner stood still in the doorway. Twilight smiled. "You can call me 'Twilight' if you want. Nopony calls me 'Miss Sparkle.'" Liner nodded. "Very well, Miss Twilight." He leaned forward and pressed the adhesive yellow notice to the door with a sure hoof. "Keep me posted." Director Redheart watched Liner leave before shaking her head. "That guy's a real piece of work, huh?" Twilight gave a light chuckle and turned back to her work. "You'll get no argument there." As Redheart watched the unicorn mare copy down symbols for a few moments, her expression grew increasingly pensive. Eventually, she retrieved her composure and spoke in an officious tone of voice. "Twilight?" "Yeah?" "I know this isn't exactly the time, but I've been meaning to pull you aside for a while now." Twilight gave Redheart a momentary glance. "I can multitask. What's going on?" Redheart's blue eyes narrowed. "We need to have a talk about Rainbow Dash." NEXT Episode 05: "The Buck Stops Here"