Central Equestria was now in its fifth straight month of autumn. Sometimes it was with drizzling rain, but more often skies were high and clear. Short cool days gave way to long chilly nights. It was such a night now, and Lady Starlight Glimmer, Dean of the Faculty of Counter-Manipulation and Self-Discovery, would have preferred a cup of cocoa, a blanket, and company of either one — or both — of her special ones.
But her addressee for a short and indistinct correspondence — specifically, a batpony that stood before her now — did not even want to take a passage through the Littlehorn’s gate, and, grumbling, Starlight did not insist much.
On the cheek of the young batpony there was a distinct creamy stain from Pinkie’s party — alike to Pinkie’s cutie mark, no less! — so in a certain sense she could already be considered a resident of Ponyville.
They weren’t in Ponyville though. The second capital was an autumn night on a west-north-west bound train away — or a step through one of five Littlehorn’s great portals.
The bat stepped forward and hugged Starlight tightly, gripping, looking into her face with luminous brown eyes, pupils slitted despite a dark night.
Judging by the height and weight, only slightly inferior to the unicorn despite their age difference, she was from the Canterlot breed, rather than from the fructivorous migrants from the north, and all the more surprising was this desire for physical affection. On the other hoof, there are griffons and then there is Gabby... Starlight thought, waiting and returning the hug to the best of her ability.
Finally, the batpony moved away, leaving a faint smell of chocolate, cinnamon and forest mud on Starlight's coat... or rather she did not move away, Starlight thought, irritated. The unicorn turned her head to the batpony — she stood to Starlight’s left now, touching her side.
Silence hung on, cold and heavy rain falling down on them until Starlight raised her cyan magic shield above both of them.
Starlight broke down first, “You are not a student. Neither are you Cozy. Nor are you relative to any of the Littlehorn students.”
At each statement, the bat nodded quickly and sharply, resembling the southern dummies that Fluttershy sometimes made.
Starlight inhaled and went on, “So why should I commit a crime for you? I have checked the codex, and even if you ask for Unmarking sane and sober and only for yourself, it is a crime anyway, by the special clause! Twilight will not punish me, you got that right. But ponies will gossip all the same, even if...” she turned towards the main gate to the Littlehorn that was behind her back. Three-quarters of the windows shone mostly yellow, sometimes red and orange — the university-slash-citadel did not sleep even at three in the morning. Some of the teachers were just finishing their breakfast at this point, not to mention a fair share of the students or monsters, “Even if we arrange the Unmarking right now. No magic could be hidden from an eye inquisitive enough, and this... I might as well light a conflagration with the ‘Starlight Glimmer gobbles foals’ fireworks all over it — and last time I checked this holiday was still far away!.. Have you visited the Cutie Mark Crusaders, for starters?”
The bat squeaked, fluttered her wings and flew sideways and a bit away. No, the manners are definitely from the north. Adoption?
“N-no, Lady Glimmer. They will tell me how to accept my Mark. And I…” the bat’s next words were less than a whisper, “I don't want to accept it,” she hung her head, “Please, Lady Glimmer? I don’t want it! Anything to pay with, I will pay!”
There was a glimpse of common sense in this, accounting for Cutie Mark Crusaders’s talent shared among the three. Before Starlight could ask the next question or think about the adequate price if there even was one, the bat asked her own question in turn, “Cozy? Cozy Glow, that pegasus? But she…” fluttering her wings, the young pony was about to rise to the air, but then she tumbled forward and landed head down into the cobblestones. She sharply cried, then sobbed.
Starlight Glimmer was not a medic, but on laypony’s sight that was painful if not traumatic. She winced.
No, not the northern one after all, Starlight thought, made a facehoof, but quickly followed to lift the bat up in her magic — she was sneezing and snotting with blood droplets — and, despite her weak protests, to carry her through the gate along the pinkish streets of Littlehorn, directing them both to the faculty building and to her warm office, situated for long, probably comfortable talks. A mango in the freezer, a medic called in from the next wing, and we'll figure out the rest. ‘Conspiracies and secrets are like weeds. They pretend to be useful, then they drag back your honest work’ Starlight remembered one of Applejack's sayings and grinned.
On the way, she answered the question, “Cozy Glow, as the pony, is where you think she is. ‘Cozy’ on the other hoof is not a name anymore, it is a tag, and you don’t live up to it at all, no matter what you might think about yourself. Well, will you please show me the Mark? I have already asked twice, and I will not ask for the third time.”
She listened to a desperate squeaky refusal, nodded politely, and moved the bat directly to the front of her. In the bright light of her magic, the purple bat fur resembled cherry wine at a romantic evening with candles — Starlight grinned again, remembering how such an evening with Sunburst went — and all that left to do was to unfold the gray rags, sloppily wound around the bat’s flanks.
The Mark was black and red. A dagger with a triangular blade, and an edge of blood along the blade, a rusty dark dried strip that Starlight didn't even want to pay attention to.
Starlight took a deep breath, “So Piercing Strike is not your nickname after all… Well, funny much, what can I say.”
The bat gave away an unintelligible sob and jerked her back leg.