//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Tinker, Tailor, Pony, Spy // by Blade Star //------------------------------// Heading downstairs in the elevator, Tempest found that, despite the late hour, the revolving door at the entrance to the hotel was still unlocked. It surprised her a little. In Ponyville, the notion of ponies not locking their doors was understandable; everypony knew everypony, and criminal activity within the town was so minimal that it lacked an organised police of its own, instead relying on the Royal Guard to come down from Canterlot when help was needed. A cost effective measure, Tempest mused, although she’d told Twilight a hundred times to lock the castle up at night, advice Twilight had pretty much ignored. Still, it surprised her that it was the case here in the capital. Spotting a pony on the front desk, Tempest trotted over. Unlike the poor receptionist who’d cowered when she’d checked her in, this stallion hardly looked up from the paper he was reading as Tempest approached.  “Excuse me,” Tempest said, promoting his eyes to briefly dart up from the newsprint. “How long before you lock the front doors for the night?” The stallion ruffled his paper. “Normally I’d have done it an hour ago,” he replied. “But there’s a convention in town this weekend. A lot of the attendees are out into the small hours. It’s not worth the trouble of having them bang on the doors when they get in late.”  Tempest found herself smiling to herself at the mental image of utterly soused ponies vainly trying to get back inside, and the unfortunate night manager here having to leave his comfortable perch to let them in.  “Thanks,” she said with a slight nod. The stallion didn’t reply, instead wordlessly returning to his paper.  Tempest headed out into the cool night air. A light breeze was blowing, but not enough to make her feel the cold. It amazed her how balmy the nights were here in Canterlot. True it was the middle of summer, but the city was several thousand feet up a mountain. She expected nights here to be like those in the Frozen North, or in the Storm King’s own frozen homeland. Instead, she could have been in Ponyville, where ponies slept with their doors and windows propped open on balmy nights like tonight.  Looking up, she saw the night sky was much clearer this high up. In spite of the light pollution generated by the city, stars glittered clearly, like millions of tiny diamonds scattered against an indigo sky. Only on one side of the sky were the stars drowned out by the light of the rising moon, which presently hung large in the sky, silhouetting the castle. Squinting, Tempest could have sworn she could make out a figure on one of the tower balconies. Could that be Luna perhaps, guiding the moon while she watched the dreams of the sleeping city? Tempest spent a little while just looking up at the stars, lost in thoughts that didn’t concern Elusive. Her mind kept turning to that most fearful concept; the future. This jaunt up to Canterlot was providing a welcome diversion, but all her problems would still be waiting for her when she got back to Ponyville.  She pushed that thought back into the recesses of her mind. That way lay madness, or at least, an unwelcome spiralling pattern of thought that led to one very dark possible solution. Returning her eyes to the ground ahead, Tempest set off along the road. She knew pretty much where she was going, and sticking to the main thoroughfares would prevent her from getting too lost. She just needed to tire herself out, and sleep would come. She set herself a steady pace, wandering through the empty streets. Canterlot looked very different by moonlight. Everything was bathed in that soft white glow, while lunar shadows cast every which way. It was night, but not dark. In fact, Tempest reasoned that the street lights were probably not needed tonight, given how much light the moon was giving. She could see just as clearly as she could on a bright and clear day. The only real difference was the sound, or rather, the lack of it. The silence was beautiful in its own way. Even on a quiet day, the noise of a city was still deafening compared to this. With the sun down, and only a light breeze, the only sound Tempest could hear, aside from the wind, was the sound of water splashing in a nearby fountain. She’d felt the same way one night in Ponyville, when her sensitive ears had picked up a strange tearing, rending sound. It wasn’t until she went out to investigate that she realised the sound was grass tearing as cattle grazed on a nearby pasture.  The only other sounds to be heard were produced by Tempest herself. Her horseshoes were almost deafening as they clanked against the cobblestones of the street. She was surprised that she saw no one else on her travels. In a city with such a population, she figured that, apart from the princess, there must be a few night owls like herself abroad now. But apart from the odd thestral or unicorn of the Royal Guard standing at a sentry post on a street corner, Tempest saw nopony. She wound her way through the streets, from her hotel, past a couple of museums, the entrance to the castle, the Royal Guard academy, up along the so-called Restaurant Row and eventually found herself in the same part of the Old Quarter that she knew Elusive’s shop, and home, to be in.  Having had several hours to dwell on the matter, Elusive more puzzled than alarmed her. There just seemed to be no way to figure him out. That was what riled Tempest the most; not knowing what he was thinking or feeling. She’d experienced a similar experience when she’d met with Celestia after the surrender. But the princess had had a millennia to practice and develop an impassive mask. Elusive wasn’t just impassive, he seemed to be able to deliberately throw off any attempt to read him. And asking him a straight question just got you bizarre or illogical answers. It was as she was dwelling on this, and thus not concentrating on where she was going, that Tempest found herself in the same square she had stood in not a few hours ago, in front of Elusive’s shop. It looked very different at night. Even with all the moonlight, the unicorn’s establishment was still hidden in shadow. Tempest was just about to turn around and head back to her hotel, despite still feeling wide awake, when her ears picked out the unmistakable sound of a lock tumbler turning and a door opening. On a silent night like tonight, they might as well have been the reports of a cannon.  Out of habit, and the notion that it would probably be quite strange for both her and Elusive to run into one another at three in the morning, Tempest retreated back into the shadows. A moment later, Elusive emerged. Even though the alleyway was equally dark, his white coat stood out in the dim light. He was just as Tempest remembered him, still wearing that deep red waistcoat. The only difference was his expression. Gone was the jovial and congenial smile. Now his face was impassive, with a slight frown as keen eyes swept the square around him.  All at once, Tempest’s questions about Elusive came flooding back. What kind of tailor goes out at this hour? Could this be why Luna sent her to him in the first place? According to Twilight, Princess Celestia was somewhat known for long cons and setting ponies on a particular path to serve her own ends. Was Luna doing the same? Did she suspect that there was more to Elusive than just rumours and hearsay? But why send Tempest? Or was this perhaps all part of some greater plot to somehow help her? She shook her head, trying to get her racing mind in order. Whatever Elusive was doing, it warranted further investigation. There was no point looking for any guards. Her own reputation aside, she doubted they do much with the tawdry pile of evidence she had. Evidence of...something. She wasn’t even sure if anything untoward was happening here. So, instead she followed him, although she wasn’t about to be caught napping twice.  With the city sleeping, it would be almost impossible to tail him through the streets. There were no crowds to disappear into and the silence would give away any tail. If it was a darker night, she could probably do it, but that would create its own problems. So instead, she took advantage of the many buildings in the bustling metropolis. Finding a ladder resting against a modest book store, Tempest carefully hauled herself up onto the roof. Many buildings here had three stories, making it almost impossible for her to be seen, even out of the corner of the eye. But at the same time, it gave her a pegasus’ eye view of every route open to Elusive.  And so she followed him. It felt good to practice old habits again. True, stealth had not exactly been at the forefront of many of her battle plans, but she herself, as an accomplished soldier, knew the value of such things. There were times to confront your enemy, and times to wait, watch, and see what he does next. Stepping lightly so as to not make too much noise on the slate roofs, and keeping low to avoid being spotted by the occasional low flying patrol, Tempest leapt from rooftop to rooftop, keeping tabs all the way on her quarry. His route again seemed to be taking them towards the government district, but Tempest couldn’t be sure. Elusive was again being careful, looping back on himself, changing direction at odd moments, and generally doing all he could to throw a tail. Either that, or he genuinely had gotten a tad lost in the dark night. Still, he showed no sign of acknowledging his pursuer. He never glanced around and certainly never looked up. Tempest found herself smiling. This time she’d get to the bottom of this. He didn’t need to tell her anything. This line of thought lasted right up until they entered another square, in the centre of which was a large fountain. Here, Elusive paused, flicking a bit into the water. Then, without warning, he turned, and looked up, straight at Tempest, again catching her like deer in a train’s headlamp. This time, there was no convenient cover to dive behind.  “Good evening, Tempest,” he called up to her with a wave, his voice echoing off the buildings. “Out for a stroll I take it?” Tempest found herself feeling grateful for the reasonably dark colour of her coat. It helped hide the beet red blush that was covering pretty much all of her face at this point. Tempest was perfectly familiar with the bitter shame of defeat and the ignominy of capture, but this was so much worse. She found herself contemplating simply letting go of the ladder she was climbing down and letting herself fall a couple stories just to avoid the embarrassment she was currently feeling. He hadn’t even started. He’d just looked up and spotted her. Somehow, he’d known she was following him. What worried her more now though, embarrassment aside, were the potential consequences. Elusive could probably make a good case for harassment at the very least. The last time he’d caught her had been bad, but he’d been willing to overlook it. This time, she’d be lucky if he didn’t bring the Guard round her ears.  She felt like a scolded filly as her hooves touched the ground and she walked over to Elusive, struggling to meet his gaze. To her surprise though, his expression wasn’t one of anger or disgust, but of mild amusement.  “We really must stop meeting like this, my dear,” he said with a smile. “Ponies will start to talk before too long.” Ironically, it was this friendly reception that threw Tempest the most. She hardly knew what to say back.  “I must confess though, that the fault is mine somewhat this time. I couldn’t help but notice you when I stepped out of my establishment and fancied having a little fun at your expense, although I was surprised to see you take to the rooftops. Most impressive.” Tempest finally found her voice. “So...you’re not going to call the Guard?” she asked hesitantly. Elusive let out that soft, dark chuckle of his.  “Now why in the wide, wide Realm of Equestria would I do that to a good customer like you? That would hardly be good for business, now would it? Now, come along, I suggest we adjourn back to your hotel. It is a rather chilly night tonight.” And so, Tempest again found herself walking with Elusive, having been caught tailing him. Tempest renewed her resolution to drop her investigation. Finding out this tailor’s secrets wasn’t worth the embarrassment.   Tempest wasn’t quite sure which was the most embarrassing moment of her life; the moment when she came face to face with the princesses after Canterlot was freed, or now. Both occasions had been awkward encounters. She’d been out of her depth, unsure of how to proceed. In the case of the princesses though, she’d been more ashamed than embarrassed. Still, walking with Elusive through the thankfully empty streets was far from a pleasant experience.  Elusive, for his part, seemed not at all affected. He wasn’t angry, resentful, disgusted or disquieted at the odd circumstances in which he’d met Tempest. In fact, he seemed rather jovial about their paths crossing again. After a few minutes, with Tempest taking great pains not to meet his gaze, he broke the silence.  “Don’t beat yourself up about this, Tempest,” he said reassuringly. “We’ve all done things we regret in the wee hours.” Tempest let out a sigh through her nose.  “How did you spot me this time?” she asked listlessly. Elusive smiled. “Just because my coat stands out in the dark, doesn’t mean yours is invisible,” he replied. “I saw you when I stepped out of the store. I had to admit I was a little curious, and when you retreated into the shadows, I decided to have a little game at your expense. Credit where credit is due though, I was impressed how a pony of your stature could move so gracefully, and so quietly, along the rooftops.” The obvious question, and the dozen or so that followed it, were on the tip of Tempest’s tongue. She wanted to ask him so much, but knew, even from their short time together, how little that would achieve. So she decided to ask something that might just get a straight answer.    “So how come you aren’t furious, bringing the guards around my ears, or telling me to take my bits and disappear?” Elusive shrugged. “What would that accomplish?” he asked back. “I’m well aware of your reasons for doing so, and to react in such a hostile way would, in all likelihood, simply further stoke things in your inquisitive mind. Although I do rather hope you shan’t be doing it again.” Tempest grimaced at that, another flash of embarrassment hitting her. “Besides,” Elusive went on. “I admire a pony with an enquiring mind. So many ponies these days don’t seem to question anything. They accept the world as it’s presented to them. They don’t wonder, never mind investigate. Why, I recall not so long ago how some ponies noticed the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was acting strangely; being unusually distant, cold, and rather rude to boot. Nopony thought to ask why, or why the Royal Guard’s deployments were constantly being rearranged, or why she and her husband suddenly chose to sequester themselves twenty three hours a day. If Princess Twilight hadn’t come along and exposed that charlatan, who knows what might have happened. Questions, my dear Tempest, are the beginning of wisdom, and the mark of a good soldier.” This last point brightened Tempest up a little. While her disgrace had been obvious and seemingly constantly reminded to her, her accomplishments as a soldier were difficult to dwell on. She had fought for the wrong side, that was perfectly obvious, but you could not deny her accomplishments. She remained the only one, out of the many who had tried, to successfully attack, capture, and hold Equestria’s capital for an extended time. The changelings had tried twice, come close and been beaten off. Others had attacked it and then moved on to other targets. She was the only one who successfully led a conventional invasion. And though she didn’t know it, it would be studied for decades afterwards. In any case, it was nice to hear the praise from Elusive.  “Well, I appreciate your understanding then,” Tempest said, brightening up.  “You’ve been away from Equestria for a long time, Tempest. Pony society is an almost alien thing to you. It’s only natural that some missteps occur. To that end, might I offer a suggestion?” “Sure,” Tempest replied with a nod.  “In my line of work, you often rub shoulders with the nobility, high society, and even royalty on occasion. I’m more than familiar with the unspoken and unwritten rules of social niceties. And since I have some time between my other orders, perhaps I could...” “I may not know much about Equestria, Elusive,” Tempest cut in. “But I’ve read ‘My Fair Filly’.” “Ah, you read my mind!” Elusive beamed, clapping his front hooves together. “In that case then, I shall call upon you after breakfast tomorrow, and we can go over some of the broad strokes. With social graces, a beautiful gown, and that sharp mind of yours, you’ll have your fellow party-goers thinking that Tempest Shadow was the best thing to happen to Equestria since the Elements were rediscovered.” Tempest, for the first time that night, chuckled. “I’ll be happy if they stop calling me a traitor.” Elusive’s face then fell for a moment. The jovial smile briefly faltered, and the gleam in his eye turned dull. He seemed to be looking through Tempest. For one brief second, the mask slipped. Tempest didn’t say anything, and a moment later, Elusive was back again. But as she returned to her hotel and finally settled down into sleep, that moment kept replaying in her mind.  Tempest was in the hotel’s restaurant the next morning, taking advantage of the included breakfast on her reservation. It actually served as quite a pleasant experience. While she did get the odd stare from the occasional pony, for the most part, her fellow diners took no notice of her, being too absorbed in their own meals, conversations, and daily newspapers. Tempest couldn’t help but reflect how strange it was. Ponyville, a town to which she had done no direct transgression, seemed committed to despising her. And yet here in Canterlot, a city she had helped brutally subjugate, hardly anypony batted an eye.  Taking her breakfast alone, she divided her time between reading today’s edition of the Equestria Daily, and indulging in a spot of pony watching. Tempest was no stranger to basic social graces by any stretch of the imagination. Having left Equestria before she was ten had deprived her of some of the finer points, but she was far from socially ignorant. She didn’t lack social skills per se, it was more a case that she had had little reason to exercise them until quite recently, and like any unused muscle, they had atrophied. While she could be pleasant enough, deepening friendships, to say nothing of the social graces that were the lingua franca of Canterlot, were beyond her. The other issue, she knew, was controlling her temper at times. And Celestia knew that at times the ponies of Canterlot could try even her patience.  Leaning back in her seat, she cast her gaze around the room. She couldn’t help but note that she was the only pony sitting alone. Every other table had at least a couple chattering away over breakfast. They were all smiling, laughing, one couple were even lovingly nuzzling each others’ noses in what Tempest considered a revoltingly unnecessary display of affection. While she had no objection to the idea of friendship, her inner strength lay in her self-reliance; the fact that she didn’t need anypony else. She took pride in the fact. It wasn’t until Twilight had reached out to her that she began to realise what she had been missing. Her friendships now might have been few, but they were fulfilling. Looking on, she could help but wish she was part of one of the groups around her. She was startled from her melancholy line of thought a moment later, as Elusive appeared. She’d been so absorbed with pony watching that she hadn’t noticed him come in. He stood next to the chair opposite hers, smiling down at her.  “May I join you?” he asked politely. Tempest gestured to the available seat. “Help yourself,” she replied.  As Elusive sat down, a waitress trotted over. She was a pretty young thing. The tailor flashed her a winning smile. “Good morning, sir. Can I get you anything?” she asked, with a smile as she activated her magic and flipped to a new page of her notepad.  “Just some coffee, thank you, my dear,” Elusive replied kindly. The mare bustled off to the kitchens.  He then returned his attention to Tempest.  “So, how have you been, Tempest?” he asked, clasping his front hooves together on the table. Tempest shrugged. “About the same as when I saw you last night,” she replied. Her own dose of caffeine hadn’t yet kicked in. Elusive let out a low hum. “I see I have some work to do,” he said with a sly smile.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tempest shot back, a little crankily.  “It means,” Elusive replied. “That you need to brush up on your social graces before you attend dear Luna’s celebration.” Tempest resisted the urge to snarl something unkind back at him.  “Alright,” she managed. “Like what?” Elusive chuckled. “Well, apparently the fine art of conversation,” he answered. “Reciprocation, banter and teasing, and certainly controlling one’s temper.” Tempest didn’t reply and just settled for narrowing her eyes at him.  “You hardly seem like a social butterfly yourself, Elusive,” she said after a moment. Elusive smiled, though this time it lacked a sense of friendliness.  “True, I’m not,” he admitted. “I have few friends, just as few clients, live alone, and tend to isolate myself from the world when working. But if you ask that waitress, I’m sure she’ll describe me as friendly, charming, maybe even a little bit more. Tell me, Tempest, have you ever heard of the concept of masking?” Tempest shook her head.  “Well, most social niceties consist of essentially play acting. Most of what ponies say to each other on a daily basis is a white lie at best, and an outright falsehood at worst. If we all said what we thought, friendship would be quite the difficult experience. So we compromise. We tell clients that that dress doesn’t make her look like a fat sow, and that that garish tie contrasts wonderfully with his eyes. But beyond that, we put on an act when we go out amongst other ponies. We hide little flaws and foibles in our personality so as to better fit in and avoid social upset. This is a skill I’ve mastered over many years, and which you will need.” “So friendship for you is just based on lying to ponies and faking a different personality?” Tempest asked with some surprise. This was rather in contrast to what Twilight had shown her. “Oh, it is by no means the basis for all friendships,” Elusive agreed with a shake of his head. “And certainly not close or intimate relations. But in the world of business, high society, and so forth, that is indeed it.” “So I just fake it?” Tempest asked.  “There’s a little more to it than that,” Elusive countered. “Think of it more like you’re the leading mare in a stage play. You play a part. With time, effort, and a great deal of practice, it becomes second nature. You don’t have to remember your lines as it were, you just know them.” “Does that mean your ‘acting’ now?” Tempest asked curiously. Elusive nodded. “To a degree,” he assented. “Our masks change to suit individuals and situations. But only when we are alone do we take them off. I doubt I would be half as popular as I am now if I did, and you know how much I am admired by the ponies of Canterlot. With you, I don’t have to put much effort in, it’s quite relaxing actually. But enough about little old me. Let us turn our attention to you.” And so Elusive’s instruction began. He spent the rest of breakfast walking Tempest through some of the more crucial social rules that she would be required to follow and taught her a few useful psychological tricks. He pointed out ponies around them and used them as examples. It was little things really, eye contact, a smile that used certain muscles, and any other number of minutiae that would allow a powerfully built intimidating former soldier to come across as non-threatening and friendly.  The next couple of days were then spent building on these basic lessons. Elusive taught Tempest the rules of court etiquette, the lingua franca of high society, and gave her a crash course in verbal sparring. By the time he was done, while Tempest was by no means a new mare, she had forged what could be described as her own mask, which she could put on and take off with ease.  All that remained was to put what she had learned into practice.