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// Chapter 3: Ragamuffin 
// Story: The Menace of Canterlot 
// by The_Darker_Fonts 
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The alleys of Canterlot always had a certain appeal to them.  Not a pleasant one, by anypony’s standard, but an appeal that tickled Hoodwink’s young brain.  She dashed through the narrow confines, ignoring the small puddles of muddy water and occasional pile of trash long forgotten by the garbage ponies.  There was always another corner to turn, another part of the city to discover, whether that be a fancy neighborhood where ponies handed out bits left and right or where she gave up her bits to even younger, less fortunate colts and fillies.  Mam and Pap always had told her that they lived a good life even if it was in a rundown, overcrowded apartment, and that if she ever came across somepony with less than her to give ‘em a few bits.  
This next turn wasn't anywhere new, though.  She knew these alleys of the city so well that she would have been able to walk them blindfolded.  Ever since the attack a week ago, she had found the city streets increasingly cleaner and more crowded.  In an ironic way, the changeling attack had actually brought better life to the poorer parts of the city over here.  While almost every part of the city had seen drainings and damage to homes, Hoodwink’s part of the city wasn’t rich enough to simply fix the damage alone.  The nice white stallion who hired her Mam and Pap had gotten right to work funding these sortsa things, but even he wasn’t rich enough to do it alone.  So, other ponies got involved and the work provided newer buildings and more jobs while repairs happened.
Hoodwink didn’t understand the nitty gritty of it all, but even she had picked up more bits in the last few days than in the past three months being a go-fer for the nice white stallion.  Most people just called him the Boss, since he didn’t like his real name, but he had told her specifically not to call him that.  He wasn’t her boss, he said, just an old stallion tryna make the world a better place.  So instead, Hoodwink had started calling him Grandpa, and nothing the old geezer said could stop her.
Turning the corner, she smiled as she came across the main plaza of the East Side.  Successful shops and restaurants surrounded the romanticized image of the Elements of Harmony.  It was a bit much, the mares all way too tall and way too mature looking for any sense of realism, but regardless she saluted the icon as she passed it.  Though she was tempted to waste a few bits on a particularly tempting tart one of the shops was proudly displaying, she ignored it.  She was on very important business today, or at least, Grandpa had tried to convince her as much.  
Passing the shops, she came to a rather unassuming little parlor building aptly labeled The East Side Daily.  The newspaper was one of the less glamorous and more truthful pieces that floated about, which meant it was only picked up by those in the East side that didn’t care much for the classy gossip.  It was Hoodwink’s typa newspaper, one that got to the point and wasn’t fluffed up with weird, purposeless stories about some stallion with too many bits building a stupid thing for far too many more bits.  Opening the door, she quietly walked up to the desk, noting the sterilized smell of the building.  She probably should have guessed it would have the sharp smell of ink and hot press, but she’d grown too used to entering buildings with more gritty smells.  
“Hello there, little one,” the only pony in the front room greeted with a smile.  The mare was older, gray in her brown hair, but still had a weird, lasting beauty.  “What’s your name?”
“Hoodwink, and I got a little something for ya,” she proclaimed proudly, pulling aside her satchel.  “Mr. Grandpa told me ta give this to ya guys here at the news.  Said you’d know what to do with it.”
The mare on the other side of the desk watched with confusion as the little filly unceremoniously dumped the contents of her satchel on the table.  A bag of bits fell out along with an envelope that contained whatever it was the white unicorn wanted the newspaper to publish.  Based on the other things she’d seen in the news, it would probably be either another advertisement for job opportunities for the factory.  The old geezer was constantly hiring ponies and never firing them, adding more and more stallions and mares to his factory.  He had a few other factories in Baltimare and Manehattan that were also doing well, meaning a lot of ponies would move back and forth between the three cities.  
“I dunno what to do from here, but my boss told me to tell ya ta keep the change,” Hoodwink said with satisfaction.  “Bubye!” 
“O-okay,” the older mare stammered, picking up the envelope and bits as the little filly turned and walked out of the door, proudly self-satisfied.  Humming to herself, she decided that, since her job was done and that she would replace the wasted bits, she picked up the tart she’d seen earlier.  It was about lunchtime anyways, and while Mam would probably complain about her having too much sugar for a meal, she wasn’t there to tell her no.  
Chewing the treat cheerfully, she took her time walking back towards home.  Her parents wouldn’t be back for a good few hours, and she wasn’t bored enough to try attending school.  There was probably some chore or another that she could do while waiting for her parents to get home.  Maybe she could find another foal like her, out and about when they ought not to be.  They were few and far between, even with the ponies poorer than her, but maybe there would be a friendly fella like her out and about.  Smiling at the thought, she finished her tart as she turned the corner to her neighborhood.  
Sometimes she forgot she was walking, her affinity with the streets so good that-
Hoodwink froze as she stared at the front door of her house from the corner.  It was closed, but not in the way she had left it this morning.  Frowning, she squinted at the only front facing window.  Her house was mushed wall-to-wall with the other cheap homes on the block, which made it unremarkable.  Why, then, was the door shut weird and the windows darkened by the shadow of somepony.
For a moment, she let herself believe it just had to be one of her parents, home early because they were sick or something.  That wasn’t how her parents worked, though.  Even when Grandpa himself told them to go home on sick leave, they would stay the rest of the day.  They were too proud of their good work to let a little thing like typhoid take them out of work early.  Gulping, Hoodwink began hesitantly walking towards the door.  There were ponies on the street still that would hear her if she cried for help.  Besides, almost nopony would want to harm a filly.  The changelings last week had seemed to be the only exceptions.  Them and the Blue Knight.  
She paused again, right outside the door.  What if it was the Blue Knight?  What if he had somehow tracked her down and was now trying to get rid of a witness to his crimes?  Quivering in fear, she was about to start walking away, when the door burst open.  
A short squeak escaped Hoodwink before she realized who emerged.  Brick smiled at the filly, tipping the hat he wore at her as he emerged.  The big stallion always looked halfway asleep these days and walked with a limp.  Oftentimes she would catch him staring off in the distance like a pony lost in the middle of the city.  In spite of his oddities, he was like an uncle to her, mostly because he hovered around Grandpa and constantly helped the old geezer with the heavy lifting when needed.  
“Howdy, Hoodwink,” he greeted softly, his voice deep but quiet.  It always confused Hoodwink how such a big lug could be so quiet, but she guessed it was because if he let himself be loud he’d scare ponies away.  “Didn’t mean ta scare ya little one!”
“It’s alright,” she assured him with a smile.  “I just wasn’t expectin’ anypony ta be here is all.  Why are ya here?”
“Well, I’m afraid I was looking for you,” Brick frowned.  “The Boss has a need for you again and there ain’t no explainin’ why here.  Let’s just say that there’s been a little development that he’d like your help with.”








“You’re a very intelligent filly, Hoodwink,” the white stallion began honestly.  He stared at the little pony with a slight smile, only allowing the positive emotions to show.  “You know the streets of Canterlot like not even the oldest ponies in the city could and you love the ponies of the city very much.  However, something rather unfortunate must be faced head-on when it comes to Canterlot.  As much as it is a beautiful and kind city, you’ve seen with your own eyes how unequal it is with its ponies.”
“You’ve said this before, Grandpa,” Hoodwink pointed out, cocking her head to the side in confusion.
“I know, but what I’m going to say next is new and more important,” the unicorn told her gently.  “Equestria is a land of peace and love, but that is changing before our very eyes.  In the past eight months, it has been threatened more times than the past hundred years, and by all accounts there are more threats growing.  Pretty soon, the entirety of ponykind may be enraptured in dangers unlike has been seen in a thousand years, since the age of Nightmare Moon.”
He watched the little filly shiver at the mention of the terrifying villain.  He didn’t like using fear as a tool, but when it came to foals, it was less damaging and almost equally as powerful as love.  “Yes indeed, the days of the past security are faltering, and who do you see stepping up to stand for the peaceful past?”
“The Elements,” she shrugged, looking more uncertain.  
“And?”
“The Princesses,” Hoodwink guessed, sounding less confident than before.  
“And whom else claimed to be our hero, the Hero of Canterlot?”
“He’s no hero,” the filly spat.  “I saw it firsthoof!”
“Ah ah ah, but he was once a hero, and even you can’t say you didn’t believe he wasn’t here to protect us,” he pointed out calmly.  “It wasn’t until he killed somepony that anypony gave the stallion a second thought, and by that point, it was too late for that poor stallion.  I fear that this concept can be applied to many of our other heroes, modern or old, and that we ponies will only realize when it’s too late that our leaders are the true villains.  Not the Elements of course, Celestia knows the young mare’s couldn’t possess their powers with corruption, but have you ever wondered why the Princesses themselves never possess the Elements?”
“You can’t be saying…” the filly whispered, her eyes wide.
“The Princesses are guilty of a terrible crime, I’m afraid, one that is centuries old and poisons the hopes and dreams of Equestria to this day,” the white stallions stated grimly.  “It weighs on them terribly, as it should, but it’s irredeemable, nonetheless.  They have destroyed history itself in an attempt to keep us from learning what they’ve done- and I suspect- to try and forget their crimes.  Thousands of years ago, there was a terrible series of wars that ripped apart Equestria and the Crystal Empire.  The Bastard King Sombra”- the stallion paused as Hoodwink gasped at the language- “burned, killed, and scarred the continent, and when the war turned on him, he almost took his entire nation with him.  As much as ten percent of the population was killed and it weighed terribly on the Princesses.  So great was their pain that they removed the violence from ponies in an attempt to permanently destroy any chance of their being such a terrible war.  Unfortunately, the issue was not completely addressed.”
“But why would they do it, if it didn’t solve all the problems,” Hoodwink asked, looking surprisingly understanding.  She was a smart filly.
“Because they couldn’t know the damage this action would cause,” he whispered sadly, looking down at his hoof.  “They couldn’t have known that they would be destroying any chance at strength.  For hundreds of years, they have been able to hide this secret, the illusion of success keeping ponies kindly in the light.  But now, I’m afraid, the shadows are creeping back as the sun sets, and ponies are unprepared for a dark night ahead of them.  And Celestia and Luna removed their ability to light a fire.  What do you think will happen next?”
“We’re doomed,” the filly whimpered hushly.  Seeing the poor girl’s lip quiver and tears begin to form, the white stallion rushed to her side leaning down and wrapping a hoof around her.
“No no no, my dear, we aren’t there,” he assured her.  “But we could reach a point of helplessness when one wrong call topples the entirety of ponykind, a cataclysmic event in which there’s nopony to save us but ourselves.  And in trying to prevent ten percent of their little ponies from dying to each other again, the Princesses have guaranteed that all of them will be lost to other forces.”
“So there is nothing we can do,” Hoodwink wailed in distress.  Calmly rubbing his hoof through her mane, the old stallion shushed her quietly, looking up at Brick.  He stood silently, his eyes distant, as if not even paying attention to what was occurring.  Feeling his heart drop slightly, he turned back to the filly.
“As a matter of fact, there is a great deal we can do to protect ourselves,” he encouraged her.  “In fact, the reason I called you here today isn’t to fill your head with hopeless thoughts and fears, but to educate you on your role in this incredibly vital work.  Now that you understand what’s at stake, I can trust you to play your part excellently.  It’s a small role, something within the range of a filly like you, but it’s important nonetheless, and I know you’ll succeed.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” the filly confirmed bravely, sniffing.  She put up a brave face and asked, “What do you need me to do, Grandpa?”
“I can’t explain everything for you, because some parts of what must happen you simply wouldn’t understand, but I need you to understand that your parents are going away for a few months to help with work in Manehattan,” the unicorn told her with solemnity.  “They’ve already agreed to let you stay here with me and Brick through the winter and finish the important task I have for you here.  You’ll also help Brick here with his work as well.”
“Mam and Pap are going away,” Hoodwink questioned, getting teary-eyed again.  The filly would of course have no way of knowing the danger of having her parents around, her mother pregnant and needing her father to take care of her.  Having a couple like them in the factory as he finally enacted the next stage of his plan put the lives of the parents and unborn child in grave danger thanks to the Blue Knight.  Nonetheless, a filly as extraordinarily talented such as Hoodwink to run about Canterlot for him was a priceless advantage to give up.  Hopefully she was up to the task, even if it meant coming face-to-face with the Blue Knight once or twice. 
“I know it’s hard, but they aren’t leaving yet,” he assured her with a smile.  “They need time to pack their belongings and leave, as well as say goodbye to their precious daughter.  In fact, they were the ones who wanted me to break the news to you this evening, since they finally decided it would be for the best to move to Manehattan for a bit.”
“Where will I stay while they’re away,” the little foal asked, surprisingly steady in spite of heavy news for such a young one.  “Why with Brick and I, of course.  Your home will always be open if you want to stay there, but we think that you’d like a home that’s a bit nicer for the winter.  Besides, since you don’t go to school anyways, you’ll be able to learn from Aunty Sunrise a few nifty tricks you may actually need in life.”
“Aunty Sunrise will be there,” the filly questioned, smiling a bit.  “I haven’t seen her in months!”
“But of course,” the stallion grinned.  “She was off busy in Whinneapolis helping start up our first business transactions there for a while.  Boring stuff, unlike what I’ll need you to do.  Trust me, this is going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and when this is all over, you’ll be happy with yourself.”
“Are we going to overthrow the Princesses,” Hoodwink gasped, everything coming together in her little head.  She looked the old stallion in the eyes and gaped.  “We are, aren’t we?”
“Yes we are, but I assure you, we will do nothing to harm them,” he instructed her carefully.  “We need to acknowledge the great service they’ve done us ponies since they took power, protecting us from all manner of evils, and while it doesn’t excuse their mistake, we can fix that by becoming our own self-governing body.  They were the gentlest tyrants known to history, and for that we must be thankful.  They even gave themselves the same ailment as us to ensure they would never become the enemy they banished long ago.”
“So their dumb, nice ponies,” the filly summarized.  Then solemnly coming to an understanding, she nodded and said, “And when you need bits more than them, dumb, nice ponies are the best targets.”
Smiling at the smart girl’s intuition, the stallion muttered, “Indeed.”