//------------------------------// // Case Eighteen, Prologue: The Journal // Story: Ponyville Noire: Misty Streets of Equestria // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// The rain ran down the front windows of the bookshop, blurring the view of the street outside, even if the only ones looking out the window were the felt bats and grinning ghosts and jack-o-lanterns stuck to the glass or hanging from the ceiling. A brief letup in the rain revealed a bright red streetcar clattering up the cobbled road. Behind it, visible through a gap between two brick buildings, a building shaped like great white sails sat in the distant bay amidst the dark, roiling waves.  A brown-bearded stallion, his head bent beneath the rain that pattered against his black umbrella and his brown trench coat, trotted up the sidewalk and pushed through the doorway, the bell jingling over his head.  “Shoulda brought my bathers. If this comes down any harder, the street’s gonna be turned into a billabong!” the earth pony grinned to the zebra mare behind the counter, his leathery, weatherbeaten face lighting up with the smile.  “Too right, Deck,” the striped mare smiled back, pushing her red-framed glasses back up her dusty-colored snout and shaking a lock of her mane out of her face, the single red stripe in her white mane draping down her cheek. She pushed the small cup on the desk forward a bit, the small cookies inside rattling temptingly. “Bikkie? Just cooked ‘em fresh this morning.”  “You know I can’t resist, Akely-Pip,” Deck smiled, taking a small chocolate cookie from the tin and chewing it. His tired blue eyes panned over the oak shelves, every one filled with books of every size, color, and description, all of them lovingly organized. “Any new ones?”  “Do you smell new books?” the bookmare chuckled as she hopped off the stool. Without the height boost, the zebra’s eyes barely peeked above the counter. She trotted around the counter, limping on a right hind leg that was twisted to the outside; a brief flicker of pain showed behind her smile as she approached her customer. “Well, my nephew is bringing his marefriend over this week, and I wanted to find a couple of presents for ‘em,” Deck explained.  “I see,” Akely-Pip nodded. She led her guest towards the back of the shop, pointing at a large cardboard box that lay open on a table.  “Got some advance copies of that new Compass Rose book: ‘Compass Rose and the Abyss of Despair,’ just in time for Nightmare Night!” Akely-Pip grinned, hoisting up a book and displaying the cover: a dark blue pegasus mare in a vest and fedora staring down into a dark canyon, her lantern illuminating a pile of yellowed bones on a small ledge. Behind her, the shadow of a horned beast loomed over her, dark against the night sky. “  “I think that the sheila will like this,” Deck smiled, taking another book and studying the cover. “Mmm, a history of sailing.”  “Maybe they should’ve asked you about that one,” Pip chuckled, showing off a journal of Aushaylian wildlife. “Hmm, I think there’s a book on local history that you’d like, and if your nephew is like I remember him, he'll definitely enjoy this one...eh? What’s that?”  The Aborigineigh pulled out the anomalous tome and studied it. It was a battered journal with a pale green cover, half-torn from the first yellowed page.  “I don’t remember this being in the invoice,” she mused, opening up the cover. The first page declared that this book was a diary, with two lines for the owner’s name and the year, each of which had been written in faded blue ink. Both ponies stared at the name and date, mouths agape.  Captain J. Bushwhacker Moon of Rain 1844 “Not possible,” Akely-Pip breathed, stroking the name with a hoof.  “It is,” Deck whispered reverently, his face glowing with rapturous joy. “This is Captain Bushwhacker’s journal!”  “In my shop!” Akely-Pip squealed in delight.  “I’ll have to take it back to my library,” Deck said. “Examine it, make sure that it’s the dinky-di.”  "No, I should take it!" Pip interrupted. "Akely, I've searched for this all my life," Deck protested. "So have I!" Akely replied. "It was in my shop!" "You know I have the resources to make sure that it's real," Deck continued. "And that I can keep it safe. And that I can go out into the desert looking for it." Deck looked pointedly at the bookmare's injured leg. Akely scowled back at him for a moment, then relented with a brief wince. Deck held out his hoof. Pip stared at it for a moment, then looked at the journal, chewing her lip in thought. "Akely, please," Deck pleaded. "We'll both share the credit for it. If I need any help with the clues, you'll be the first pony I come to." "You and Yellow Page," Akely grumbled. "Yellow Page is just a historian," Deck replied. "You, you've always been the heart of this, and you know more about the local legends than anypony else I know. Equal credit, I promise." Akely-Pip studied the journal for several long moments, then closed her eyes and stood in silence for several seconds. Finally, she sighed and put the journal in his hooves with a smile. "For the good old days," she nodded. “At long last, Bushwhacker’s treasure,” Deck breathed, staring at the journal like it was a solid block of gold. “I have to get back!" He kissed the small mare on the cheek. "Thank you, Akely!”  He slapped some bits on the counter, grabbed his purchases, and darted from the bookshop back into the rain, nearly leaving his umbrella behind in his haste. A blushing Akely-Pip waved goodbye to him from the doorway, smiling at his eagerness.  As she turned away, a car drove past, tires hissing in the puddles. Her eye instinctively turned to follow the green vehicle’s progress. And as she did so, she spotted two figures across the street.  Both of them appeared to be Aborigineigh like her, from what little she could see of them beneath the hooded cloaks that they wore, their gray coats marked by black stripes. One was a mare, judging by the long, pure white locks that were spilling from her hood, all the way down to her knees. Her companion appeared to be a stallion, the bristly fetlocks dripping with rain. Both of them appeared to be watching the bookstore.  But at the same moment that Akely-Pip saw them, another car passed by, obscuring her view. When it passed by, both of the cloaked Aborigineigh were gone. The mare turned her head left and right in bewilderment for a moment, failing to spot the strange ponies in the rain.  “Hmm,” she muttered to herself as she shrugged it off, limping back to her stool. It had to have been a trick of the light, but for a moment, she could’ve sworn that the two strangers’ eyes were glowing white.