My light sleep is interrupted by the sounds of soft hoofsteps and the scraping of metal. I crack an eye open and see the sheriff tentatively approach me.
“Good morning,” he greets me. “Umm, please make yourself ready, I’ll need you to follow me as soon as possible.”
I blink the tiredness out of my eyes and look at him better. As the early rays of the Sun shine in through the window’s bars and fall upon us, I notice that his ears are slightly twitching and he’s almost imperceptibly biting his lower lip. Telltale signs of nervousness.
“How many more times do I have to assert that I’m in no shape to cause harm to anyone,” I ask him with a groan.
He shuffles a little.
“That’s... um... that’s not it.”
I stretch and stifle a yawn.
“So what then? And where do you want to bring me?”
He clears his throat.
“I am to escort you to CanterLogic for your trial.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“My trial? Just like that? Are ponies of this age not entitled to legal counsel anymore?”
His frown deepens.
“Well, you see, yes, ordinarily you would be.” His tone is blatantly irritated. “However, due to some stupid old laws that nopony bothered to challenge yet due to the lack of criminal cases, pegasi and unicorns can technically be sentenced in absentia, without even hearing the charges.”
“You don’t seem to be entirely happy with this fact.”
He slams his hoof against the floor.
“Well, of course I’m not!” he yells. “This is a mockery of law!”
“Well, well.” I tip my head to the side with an amused smirk. “You’re not the first pony I would have expected sympathy from.”
He scoffs.
“Don’t think I’m worried about you. You deserve retribution for what you did to Sunny. But even somepony like you needs to be given a fair trial.” He sighs. “I was able to convince the town to at least have you be present and given the chance to defend yourself. This is why I need you to come with me.”
“How very generous of you,” I tell him coyly.
“If you’re done with your gloating, we really need to get moving. We are risking the trial starting without you.”
I look down at my dirty coat and mud-ridden hooves, before I lightly shake myself and stare at the stirred-up dust particles gleaming in the sunlight.
“You expect me to appear in front of a judge like this? Bring me a comb.”
He balks at me.
“What part of ‘we don’t have time’ do you not understand?”
“You want me to have a fair trial, right? If I walk in there like this, they’ll immediately throw me out for contemning the court. Do it.”
He raises his eyes at the sky in exasperation and rushes out, only to return a few seconds later with a simple wooden brush. I instinctively grab it with my magic, almost immediately dropping it in surprise. This sensation is entirely new. I never actually felt the weight of such small objects before.
Not the time to be astounded.
With some thorough swipes I make myself mostly presentable. My mane and coat lack their usual shine, and without being able to look at myself in a mirror I’m sure I’ve missed some spots, but it will have to make do.
“Satisfied?” he asks now visibly frustrated as I pass him back the comb. “You really don’t seem to be worried about your situation.”
“So why are you?” I ask with feigned innocence. Before he could explode on me, I raise my hoof. “Fine, I understand, let’s move.”
Without saying another word, he turns around and trots outside the cell. I gingerly step past the layer of dust I removed from myself and follow him. As I step outside, I cast a look towards the other cell.
It’s empty and open.
“So, where is my would-be assassin lurking now?” I ask him half-jokingly.
He continues to walk towards the front door with the same speed as he answers.
“With no charges pressed, nor any evidence presented, there was no reason for me to keep him locked up.”
“Hah, how easy it is for some of us!”
“Can we please get a move on?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just opens the door and trots outside.
I wince and raise a hoof in front of my eyes as I step into the light. Even just a day spent in that cell got me too used to the darkness.
As my vision adjusts to the brightness, I notice that the street seems a bit emptier than usual. No, that’s not right. I take a better look. The street is completely empty. There isn’t a single pony nearby as far as I can see. Even the homes look completely abandoned.
I turn to ask Hitch, but he already began trotting towards the building in the distance. I gallop after him.
“You know I could really easily just run away.”
That gets a reaction out of him. He stops and turns around.
“Oh, please!” he pleads with me sarcastically after suppressing a curt laugh. “Be my guest to try! But I think we both know why you haven’t done so already. Even if you were able to outrun Maretime Bay’s most athletic pony in your current state, which, mind you, I heavily doubt, where would you even go? The unicorns already know about you and you’d never find Zephyr Heights without a map.”
I answer him with a scoff and move past him. He quickly catches up to me. The rest of our short journey up the small hill passes by without words.
As we get closer to the factory I decide to get a better look at it. Though I have briefly seen it before when I first visited the city, I didn’t bother to pay too much attention to it. The early Sun’s rays reflect from the massive glass panes that make up the bulk of the building’s front side. Behind it the walls bulge out to form the main area of the factory. A massive pair of magenta glasses stare down at us, which, despite their cheerful colors, give the place a slightly oppressive aura. The path leading up to the building is surrounded by tall banners, each proudly advertising the name of the place.
The doors slide open in front of us without us even needing to touch them.
Odd, I feel no magic emanating from them, I think to myself, as we enter into an atrium. The sunlight illuminates a labyrinthine set of tubes, which run in all directions on the walls, each connecting to giant, metal machines placed in a seemingly haphazard fashion. Yet, the more I look at them, the more I see order in the chaos. Though I do not know what exactly their purpose is, in a way I’d almost call the scene elegant.
As we walk past them, the silence is slowly replaced by a soft murmur coming from deeper inside the factory. I raise my eyebrow towards Hitch. He walks up to a corridor.
“Through here,” he beckons. Finally, after a few more minutes spent walking, we find ourselves in front of a large set of double-doors. The murmuring seems to come from beyond.
Without saying another word, he throws open the doors.
Unlike the somewhat cramped, but well-lit atrium, the chamber beyond is gloomy and spacious. More of the various metal devices and cylinders surround its walls, their function just as incomprehensible to me as the ones outside. The room is divided into an elevated stage with a runway and a far larger area meant for the audience. I cannot make out anything on the stage due to the darkness.
The spectators’ area is filled by a massive crowd of ponies, who are all anxiously chatting with each other and exchanging concerned glances. As the doors swing open and they notice us, the room goes silent. Just like an order was given, the crowd slowly parts, forming a small corridor and allowing us passage towards the runway. There is a small portable staircase planted in front of it, allowing ascent onto the stage.
So this is where everyone disappeared to.
I look at Hitch and he tips his head towards the path in front of us. As we walk inside I feel every single gaze in the room aimed at me. A few awkward coughs ring out, but otherwise the only thing that breaks the silence is the quiet clopping of our hooves.
The moment we reach about the halfway point the sound of something snapping into place rings out and two great, ceiling-mounted lamps suddenly spring to life, illuminating the stage. The crowd collectively gasps at the unexpected change and turns towards the stage’s center, where an almost comically small desk stands with a bespectacled mare sitting behind it. Another chair sits in front of the desk, a bit further out on the runway.
Hitch trots besides the staircase and stops there. I climb it and trot up to the chair. As I sit down, I take a better look of the mare sitting in front of me. Unlike what her pink coat, carefully sculpted mane, and gaudy magenta-colored glasses would imply, the eyes staring down at me are icy cold.
Hmm, those glasses are just like the ones I’ve seen perched atop the building. If I had to guess, she’s probably the owner of this factory. How very vain.
I return the gaze, undaunted.
For a few moments neither of us moves. A pin hitting the ground could be heard in the silence.
Finally she clears her throat and speaks.
“Mr. Sombra, you are hereby accused of...” Her voice trails off as she picks up a paper from the desk and quickly skims through. “... Assault of a citizen, theft of property, disturbing peace, and finally sedition.” She takes a moment of pause. “How do you plead?”
This is it? I think to myself with a mix of shock and disappointment. Is this the court they intend to sentence me under?
I lean forward in my chair and stare deeply into her blue eyes.
“And, pray tell, which authority is prosecuting me?” I speak with a quiet voice. One that’s not overtly threatening, but makes my opinion clear. “Or, for an even better question, who are you? Who’s the accuser? What exact actions do my alleged crimes entail? Am I to face judgment from your decision alone or is this crowd behind me acting as a jury? How am I expected to accept justice from a court that keeps me in the dark?”
She is visibly taken aback by my flurry of questions and a slight hint of worry flashes on her expression before she quickly looks off-stage to wave a pony in the audience to herself. Another pink mare wearing a small tie rushes onto the stage and the two begin whispering to each other, while shooting a few conspiring glances towards me. She occasionally blows small bubbles of chewing gum, but this seemingly doesn’t stop her from speaking or paying attention. I hear the audience’s confused murmur behind myself.
Finally the mare with the tie blows one last bubble, then shrugs and walks off. The mare in glasses coughs to grab everyone’s attention before speaking up.
“The prisoner will answer the court’s question.”
“The accused,” I correct her flatly.
“What?”
“Until judgment is passed, I’m the accused,” I explain to her with dejected patience. “Afterwards I’m the convict. Either way, whether I’ve entered here as a free stallion or one in captivity has no relevance in front of the law.”
She sighs in exasperation and massages her temple.
“Fine. Will the accused please answer the question?” she asks me with an insultingly patronizing voice.
I shake my head.
“Not until the court makes its rules and identity clear.”
“I knew agreeing to this was a mistake. Answer the question or I will have you removed from the room!” she orders me with a raised voice. I hear a few ponies gasping in the audience.
“And to that I can only ask the same thing again, Your Honor, on what authority?” I lash back with a similarly raised voice. “I was promised fairness, but what I’m seeing here is less than a show trial!”
I should know with how many I’ve personally presided over during my reign.
I take a moment to look back at the audience to underline my point. Most of them look back at me with slightly fearful eyes, but some of them also seem to be deep in thought.
“Or is this kangaroo-court merely a ploy to appear legitimate before this crowd? A little circus of mimed justice before you stick me in a cell until I die? I demand it adjourned if it is incapable of proper function.”
She doesn’t immediately give me an answer. I’m prepared to go further, but a new voice breaks the silence.
“Mom, I really think you should just answer his questions.”
Wait a minute, I know this voice. I turn around and amid the crowd I spot Sprout. He shrinks back into the crowd as our eyes meet. I turn back, hardly able to mask the surprise I feel. Does this mean then that the mare in front of me is his mother he told me about? I suppose it makes sense, though this really wasn’t exactly the mental image I’ve had in mind.
“Sprout, dear, this is really not the time,” she answers with visible discomfort. “Let me do my job, please.”
But before she could say another word, another voice joins in.
“I, uh, I think he should be given a fair trial too,” says a mare.
“R-right. How can we claim to be any better otherwise?” asks a stallion.
“What sort of town is this if we just stick ponies in prison?” cries another.
“Just tell him already!”
The room’s silence is quickly broken by more and more voices joining, which quickly swells into a torrent of noise, all demanding my justice. It takes quite a bit of effort not to laugh.
Perfect, just perfect. Things have worked out even better than I could have thought. The trial hasn’t even truly began and yet the crowd already supports me.
A series of measured knocks cut through the noise. The crowd quickly falls silent and looks back at the stage towards the mare sitting in front of me.
“Fine,” she replies as she lowers her hoof again. “Let’s have it your way then. My name is Phyllis Cloverleaf, I’m the owner of this factory and more or less I serve as the city’s mayor as well. The court calls upon the town’s authority and you have been accused by none other than Sunny Starscout herself, the victim of two of your crimes. You are accused of inflicting long-term bodily harm on her; appropriating her journal, an object of both great sentimental value to her and great historical value to all ponykind; and, as mentioned before, disturbing peace and sedition. The act of threatening to overthrow the city’s government and assume control constitutes these two charges. Is my answer satisfactory?”
“You still haven’t told me who will ultimately decide the ruling.”
“Ah yes. That would be me and me alone,” she tells me coldly. “The town is only present to ease everypony’s mind and so that you won’t try to do anything clever. Is that all?”
Good, that’s plenty of information to work with, I think to myself, keeping a straight face. Perhaps I could challenge her authority? She’s not really the mayor after all and, seeing how much she fumbles around, I bet she doesn’t actually bear the title of judge. This, combined with the fact that I'm not a citizen of the town, could play into my favor. Once I prove that she has no legal basis to convict me, the court would crumble under its own weight.
I’m about to open my mouth, but instead I take a quick glance at the crowd behind myself. They stare at us with absolute concentration. Their eyes gleam with a mix of wonder, anticipation and fire. I quickly reconsider. One could almost cut the tension in the room.
No, this isn’t the right approach for an audience like this. I’ve seen plenty of these types back in the day. They don’t even know it, but they are out for blood. They need action. Some long legal hurdle would only make them confused and make me lose their support. If they don’t think me guilty, her verdict won’t hold water. I need to keep them on my side, so for now I’ll just see where she takes things from here.
“Yes, Your Honor,” I have no choice but to concur.
“Excellent. Now that we have been able to settle this, I’ll ask you again, how do you plead?”
And so the clock begins to tick on my side again.
Let’s suppose I plead guilty. I speak the truth, which is of course what everypony thinks they want to hear, so even if the crowd is somewhat horrified they will still appreciate my honesty. The judge will likely give me a harsh sentence, but perhaps the crowd’s mood would persuade her to act lenient. Either way, considering the fact that they never even bothered to shackle me, I cannot see them dealing in any cruel or unusual punishments even for something as serious as sedition. I doubt they even understand the concept of a life sentence. It’s a dangerous gamble, but certainly the simpler route.
I quickly cough, buying myself a few more seconds to think.
Or, I could choose to plead innocent. There is little to no physical evidence of my actions and most of my charges have only been witnessed by Sunny and her eccentric friend, whom I don’t think they’d even completely trust and who, as far as I've seen, isn't even present right now. I also returned the book. This definitely helps my case with some of the charges, but there is one I just don’t know what to do with. I fight down the urge to smack my hoof into my face. Why I did have to choose such a bombastic entrance? I chide myself with a silent groan.
Nevermind, too late for regrets. There’s not much time left to think. Let’s see. That sedition charge is probably the one I dread the most. Sunny already planted the seeds of doubt into everyone’s minds. Even if there isn’t any evidence of me actually saying what I’ve said, nopony has any reason to doubt her words. Still, I don’t have a choice. It is the most serious charge and I must try my best not to be convicted of it.
“Well?” I hear Phyllis ask expectantly, breaking my inner monologue.
I take a deep breath and keep it in for a few seconds. Then I very slowly exhale.
I’ve made up my mind.
This is where my guile may turn out to be not enough.
“Your Honor,” I speak slowly as if to delay the inevitable. Deathly silence fills the room. “I plead innocent on the theft and sedition charges and guilty on the rest.”
The chamber explodes into disarray.
“What? He really hurt Sunny!”
“The bastard! And to think I even felt bad for him!”
“Throw him into a cell right now!”
Their words crash against my skull like thunder. The masses are fickle and just like I’ve had their support mere moments ago, now I’m at their waning mercy.
“Order! Order, please!” Phyllis yells, while knocking on the desk. This time the crowd calms far slower. Her own face is shaded red with anger as well, but she still manages to keep her voice calm.
“Noted,” she says with a curt nod before rapping on the desk again. “The court calls Sunny Starscout to testify.”
I choose to remain silent instead of pointing out that during a proper trial the court should first describe the crimes in detail and only then call upon its first witness. I turn around and observe as parts of the audience shuffle around, trying to give way to the summoned mare.
“Sorry! Excuse me!” I hear her apologize as she pushes herself past the others. “Coming through!” Someone yelps. “Oops, sorry! Didn’t see your tail!”
She eventually manages to squeeze through the crowd and trots up the staircase. As she passes my chair an odd emotion passes through her face, one I’m not sure how to interpret.
She sheepishly waves towards the mass in front of her. Phyllis takes her eyes off me and her face immediately becomes softer as she turns to Sunny.
“Dearie, thanks for coming up here. Please tell us what happened.”
“Right,” she says with a nod. “I met Sombra a couple of weeks ago. He posed under a fake identity, claiming he was a traveling mineralogist. He said he was looking for an ancient empire located in the Frozen North. It didn’t take me long to realize my father’s journal had a section about this location and upon telling him this, he became very interested. So I, uhm, thought it would be okay to show it to him. Once he made sure that his old enemies were dead, he revealed his true self to us. He then attacked me and left.”
The crowd once again erupts in shouts of various insults directed at me.
“Order! I will have order! Mr. Sombra, do you deny these allegations?”
I hardly even hear the question. That’s not nearly everything I’ve done or even said. This isn't mere naivety. Did she really just cover for me? Why? My brain is scrambling for an answer, yet I can’t find any.
“N-no.” My voice falters slightly as I finally answer. I take a moment to compose myself. “No, Your Honor. I did in fact attack the victim. My intent, however, wasn’t to cause any serious harm. I was merely used to fighting stronger enemies.”
“I see,” Phyllis replies slowly with a grim look on her face. She opens her mouth to say something else, but then she changes her mind and turns to Sunny instead. “Sunny, previously you mentioned he stole your journal from you. Yet this is noticeably absent from your testimony. Why?”
Sunny seems to be in thought for a second.
“Yes, I did believe he stole my journal. However, as it turned out, the book just got lost during the struggle,” she says with an apologetic smile. “I found it a week later, safe and sound.”
I find myself staring at her with wide eyes. She averts hers. That was a blatant lie.
Phyllis is clearly not happy with the answer, but she sighs and nods.
“I understand. In that case, I hereby dismiss the second charge. This leaves us with sedition. When the town convened at your lighthouse for a meeting, you were adamant in your claims that he expressed a desire to take over Equestria, including Maretime Bay. Yet once again your testimony is completely ignoring this event.”
I feel my heart pumping in my throat. If she doubles down, I have nothing to refute her with. She’s a local hero, a lack of evidence won’t convince anypony that she’s wrong. Especially considering she’s not. A bead of sweat rolls down my temple and I shuffle in my chair.
She stares right into my soul. For the first time since I’ve left the Heart, I feel afraid. There is a strange shine in her eyes.
“After the attack I was in a state of shock,” her words are slow and deliberate. I realize I started playing with my mane again. Everything else fades from my vision as I focus on her face. Her eyes flick towards me for a second before she continues. “I believed he really claimed to be after Equestria. But, as I’ve later realized, I’m unable to properly recount his words, so I probably imagined most of it. I’m sorry.”
For a moment only my short and rapid breaths can be heard, the chamber then completely loses its head. It isn’t merely shouting anymore, ponies are shoving each other, striking the ground with their hooves, and some of them even begin to approach the stage only for Hitch to stand in their way and order them back.
“S-Sunny, dearie,” Phyllis turns to her with a very forced smile. “You are aware of what you are saying, right? You’re ruining your own credibility.”
She hangs her head, seemingly unable to answer.
“I’m sorry,” she finally mumbles.
Even though my mind is blank, I feel my body springing into action.
“Your Honor!” I call out to her loudly and she immediately turns towards me. “Tell me, have you ever faced a unicorn in battle before?”
“Umm, well, not exactly.” Her voice is wavering like she’s admitting to a lie herself. She anxiously adjusts her glasses. “You see I never, uh, actually met any until not so long ago.”
“So then you have no idea what it’s like to stare down a creature who could break all your legs with a mere thought?”
Her ears flop down and panic sets in her eyes. She sinks into her chair.
“N-no.”
“Don’t worry, most unicorns aren’t nearly powerful enough to do anything like that,” I reassure her with a dismissive wave of my hoof. Then with the same momentum, I lean forward in the chair and stare deeply into her eyes. “I, however, was. I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t intend to cause much harm in her. For me sending a pony flying was like merely swatting a feather away.”
She gulps in fear.
“So, with this in mind, can you-” I turn around to stare down the crowd, who have all fallen silent since I began talking “-or anypony else in this room fault her for not entirely remembering what happened? Or that her first instinct was to protect this town from something she could have reasonably believed could happen?”
“Well,” she stammers. “When you put it that way, I suppose we can forgive her that much.” She lets out a nervous laugh, as her eyes dart between me and Sunny. She adjusts her glasses again. “I- I guess this means the sedition charge is dismissed as well.”
“Excellent!” I lean back and clap my hooves together. “Then I believe you can finally pass your judgment.”
She takes a few calming breaths and then clears her throat.
“Right. Yes. We should absolutely immediately just do that,” she says quickly, before her words trail off. She’s visibly searching for what to say next.
Oh Crystals, she’s not doing what I think she’s doing, is she?
“Is there a problem, Your Honor?” I force myself to ask the question, already fearing for the worst.
“I’m not actually sure what the punishment for your crimes is,” she finally admits flatly.
Oh, I simply cannot believe this, I scream inside as I raise my eyes towards the ceiling. The urge to bury my face into my hooves returns with a vengeance. Like mother, like son!
“I think I can be of help,” says a voice behind me. I turn around to see Hitch climb onto the stage and trot next to Phyllis. He speaks like he’s reading out of a book. “The Maretime Bay Code stipulates that any offender who disturbs peace can be fined up to fifty bits depending on the severity of the offense,” he says as he glances up to me with a smug smirk. “I believe in this case we can easily conclude that it was most severe.” I merely respond with a snort. “Assault, however, can be punished by imprisonment up to a year, depending on the victim’s wishes.”
All eyes slowly turn to Sunny. She looks at me quizzically.
The room goes eerily silent. It is almost as if everyone forgot to even breathe.
My hoof passes through my mane.
“I want him to-” she begins, but her voice buckles a little. Then she shakes her head and furrows her brows. She takes a deep breath, then continues confidently, “I want him to be sentenced to home confinement in my lighthouse for an entire year.”
A moment of mortified silence follows.
“What?” the crowd collectively gasps.
“What?” escapes Phyllis's lips flatly as she stares at her with wide eyes.
“What?!” I echo them, completely dumbfounded.
“Sunny, dear, I don’t think this is what Hitch meant by ‘the victim’s wishes.’”
“But this is what I want,” she asserts. “Is there any rule against it?” she asks, turning to Hitch.
He takes a step back and stares into the distance.
“No, I don’t think there is,” he admits sourly after a few seconds. “But Sunny! You don’t seriously want to take him into your home, do you?” he asks pleadingly.
“Yes, I do. I’ve made up my mind,” she then turns to me. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“N-no, not at all,” I reply quickly, still in shock.
The crowd just stares at us in disbelief. Some of them exchange wide glares and point towards us with their mouths hung agape, as if to convince themselves what they just heard was reality, but no one dares to interject.
“Well,” Phyllis takes back the lead, still stammering a little. “Well, I suppose it is time to wrap things up then. The court finds Mr. Sombra innocent of theft and sedition and guilty of assault and disturbing peace. The court thus sentences him to pay a fine of fifty bits and be confined for a year... at the victim’s home.” She shakes her head before continuing in a less formal tone, “It feels weird to even say this, but if this is what you truly want, dear.”
Sunny gives her a reassuring nod. Phyllis once again knocks on the desk.
“With that, I declare this court closed.”
“Adjourned.” The correction accidentally slips out of my mouth as I’m still trying to process what just happened.
“Right, I declare this court adjourned.”