//------------------------------// // Episode 1: Swing Vote - Part 3 // Story: The World At Large // by ToixStory //------------------------------// Sleep didn’t come easily to me on the hard cot at the police station, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. The sheets were itchy and over-starched and pillow may as well have been a piece of cardboard filled with rocks. Still, I managed until sometime early in the morning. I tended to roll around in my sleep, but the cots they gave us were just wide enough for a pony to fit in and nothing more, far unlike the bed back at Joya’s. Suffice to say, I awoke with a start when my head slammed into the hard wooden floor, jolting me awake. My head swam for a moment as I snapped awake. I moaned and rubbed my head where a bruise was almost certainly forming. To my surprise, neither Marshmallow nor Starshine woke up even with all of my noise. Lucky them. I sighed and picked myself up on all fours and prepared to climb back in bed. That’s when I saw that, across from me, the cot Grapevine had been occupying was now empty. Curious, I looked around but didn’t see any sign of her. The bathroom in the corner still had its light off, so that wasn’t it. I took one last look at my bed then walked out of the barracks into the main hall of the police station. It wasn’t like I could sleep knowing she was gone, anyway. If she got to do something more interesting than me, I would flip. I was supposed to be a reporter now too, after all. The lights were off throughout the police station as well. Most of the officers had gone home, and those that hadn’t slept in the other barracks rooms or Celestia knew where, but not in the main room. In the darkness, the shapes of typewriters and bulletin boards seemed almost sinister as my eyes adjusted. Then, of course, I realized that if I could see anything, then light had to be coming from somewhere. I looked around until I spied a door that was cracked open, yellow light spilling out of it. I shuffled over to it and opened the wooden door with a soft sigh to reveal a flight of stairs leading upward to what I assumed was the roof, seeing as the police station had only one story. I shut the door behind me and walked up the stairs. They creaked beneath me and sawdust flew around my hooves as I went. Soon enough, though, I found myself at the top and another door. I pushed through it and found myself on a barren rooftop. Besides the little shack that held the stairwell and a whirring a generator, the roof was just bare concrete. Bare, that was, except for a familiar purple pony who sat on the far edge, her back facing me. I trotted up to her, careful to keep my steps from making too much sound. I could hear her humming to herself when I got closer. It wasn’t anything I recognized, but it lilted over me and made the scene below the roof that more serene. Early morning in downtown Fillydelphia didn’t seem that much different from the late night scene. Electric lights glittered like stars across the flashy buildings and towering high rises as buses and taxis honked and rumbled on the streets below. Ponies roamed the alleys and boulevards, walking up and down them with their fancy clothes and hats. Pictures of streetcars lit up in the night below the skyscrapers had been carried in magazines that I’d bought all those years back in Derbyshire. They had been what had set me so much on going to the city. Sure, I had applied to other newspapers, but my heart had been set on Fillydelphia. Something about it just entranced me. There was so little magic here, instead the wonders of the city were bought with the labor of other ponies. It was a place where I believed anypony could make it big. Then again, had I been so wrong? “Hey, you made it,” Grapevine said when I reached her side. She slapped a hoof on the rooftop. “C’mon, sit and relax a little bit. You’ve had a long few days.” I smiled and let myself down. While she watched, I wrenched my shirt off and spread my wings as far out as they could go. I let each feather preen and shake itself to get any soreness out. I couldn’t help it: I sighed a little. Grapevine stared at me. “You pegasi sure know how to make that erotic,” she said. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, are you starting this again?” “Can’t I have a little fun?” she asked with a wink. “But no, no, we’re cool. I’m, uh, over that.” She kicked her legs in the bare air away from the roof and sighed. “Problem is figuring out where I am now. You’ve got Sterling and a new job . . . me, it’s just same old Grapevine.” “Why is that so bad?” I asked. “I seem to remember ‘same old Grapevine’ being a pretty good friend.” She smiled a little. “You’re such a flank kisser, Minty.” “Only around a certain somepony . . .” She threw up her hooves. “Okay, okay, too much information!” I laughed and a moment later she joined me. I watched as she did so. It was hard to describe the emotions that run through the mind when seeing somepony else smile and laugh, especially somepony like Grapevine. Knowing what I knew, it was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Sure enough, when she saw me watching she quieted down and looked away. “So what’s got you down?” I asked after a moment. “Is it that me and you didn’t work out? I mean, I’m sorry, but I’m just kind of . . . straight.” “No, it’s not that,” she said. “I mean, c’mon, I was reaching too. I wanted companionship more than I wanted a mare. I’m not like that . . . I think.” She sighed. “I just want to be different, you know? This whole case has just felt like the same old thing where we’re outgunned and outnumbered and at the end of it is going to be more dead ponies and a me who has to go back to an empty house.” I spread a wing out and draped it around her shoulder. “Well then why don’t we change this time? Make a different outcome out of this? Whoever this assassin is, he isn’t Pullmare. I think we can handle him.” “Yeah, but how?” Grapevine asked. “I’ve been thinking about it and I just . . . I don’t know. I don’t know where to go or what to do.” She held her head between her hooves. “I feel lost.” I stood up and took her hooves in mine. “I have just the thing that can fix that,” I said, spreading my wings. “Please tell me your answer isn’t a flight around the city,” Grapevine said. “I think only you pegasi actually enjoy flying without a blimp.” “No, no, nothing silly like that,” I said. I pointed down below us to a squat building with “PUB” illuminated in neon on the front of it. “I figured we go get smashed and come up with something. I mean, c’mon, isn’t that what friends do together?” Grapevine smiled and wrapped her hooves around my waist. “Now you’re speaking my language. I might just remember why we were friends in the first place.” I laughed and threw myself off the roof, letting my wings catch an updraft that lifted us up off the street, though only just. I was still getting a hang of flying, and tried to make a mental note to see Starshine about that sometime soon. I still had enough wingpower to land us in front of the pub, though. I touched down just in front of two tipsy stallions who staggered out of the way. The front door was painted to look like it had stood since Luna had been locked up, though its hinges were well-oiled when we went through. Most of the crowds had left for the night, but there were a few ponies still at the bar or sitting in booths. Grapevine and I hauled ourselves onto stools and signaled for the barkeep. He was a tan stallion with a green hat who smiled really wide when he saw us. New customers, I guess. Fresh meat. Before I could order something simple, Grapevine produced a coin bag from under her headband and threw it on the bartop. “Keep it coming until I say stop,” she ordered. “Whiskey, of course.” She grinned at me. “You said smashed, didn’t you?” “You’re really gung-ho for this, aren’t you?” “Oh, is Minty trying to withdraw already? I always knew those were chicken wings . . .” I glared at her. “I’ll drink you under the table.” The barkeep arrived and our night began. *        *        * The night ended as we stumbled down the street after being dumped out of the bar by the keep. He hadn’t seemed to have enjoyed Grapevine trying to nibble on his ear and calling him her new “lovetoy”. I did my best to keep from mentioning it to her. Grapevine slumped against a lamppost that cast her in a yellow light, complimenting her violet complexion. She huffed and looked toward downtown. “This city is crazy, Minty,” she told me. “Yeah, I kind of got that impression the first day I came here,” I said. “It hasn’t really stopped since then.” Grapevine shook her head. “No, no, not that kind of crazy. That’s the fun kind. I mean that this whole city is sick in the head, you know?” She sighed and pointed up to the high rise buildings downtown. “When we stopped Pullmare all of this was supposed to end. The corruption, the double-dealing, the exploitation . . . everything. But it hasn’t, has it? We’ve had to deal with cases just as bad as hers. Business corruption, radical scientists, and gang wars. It never stops.” “But we did stop all of those,” I said. “We may be just reporters, but we’ve done a lot of good.” Grapevine snorted. “Yeah, sure. We stopped them, but always after the fact. And look at this new case! We’ve got Pyrrhus Industries, one of the biggest in the city after the Pullmare Company, assassinating political candidates and killing police officers. Not because it’s something to do with them, but because they can. Because they can! Do you get that, Minty? There are businesses in this city that can kill us and have the money to cover it up.” My head started to pound. Ugh, why had I agreed to drink again? When I managed to stop myself from throwing up, I said, “So what are we supposed to do?” “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Grapevine said, swaying back and forth on her hooves. “We’re going to get her elected, that’s what. Then we’re going to make her princess-y little ass kick all these high rise lords off their thrones and out of this city for good!” With that, Grapevine bent over and vomited alcohol and nachos on the ground. After a moment of watching, I joined her. Tears stung at the edges of my eyes, but I felt a little bit better afterwards. Or, at least, less bad than before. I found myself against one wall, panting with my face turned toward the ground. “S-So how do we get her elected, exactly?” I asked. Grapevine wiped her mouth and held a hoof to her forehead. “We can’t take on the corporations, that’s for sure. Last time, we barely survived Pullmare by herself. This time, we’re going to have to make them come to us.” “Uh . . . how?” “We do their job for them.” *        *        * “Absolutely not,” Red Rover told us the next morning when we brought the idea up to him. We had gathered in the barracks once again, though this time around a small card table that had been set up. Grapevine had told Rover that we had a “plan”, but wisely didn’t tell him until he was there himself. “It’s the only way we’re going to get past this,” Grapevine said. “If we don’t take matters into our own hooves, you can bet that Pyrrhus will.” “We don’t even have substantial evidence!” Rover countered. “If you would just let us do our jobs, we could simply arrest them.” “So, what, they can just pay their way out of a cell?” “Nopony could pay their way out of what I threw them into . . .” Grapevine snickered. “You’re so sure of that now.” Before Rover could respond in turn, Marshmallow raised her hoof in the air and looked between them. Her stark red eyes gave Marshmallow a piercing gaze, even when she didn’t mean it. I could see why she had gotten success thus far as a candidate. “Yes, what do you want to know?” Grapevine asked. Marshmallow took a deep breath. “You said that you would do Pyrrhus’ job for them . . . but what would that mean to me? What are they going to do?” “Our best bet is that they wanted to kidnap you,” Grapevine said. “Then, once they had you, suddenly another member of the council or perhaps one of their own ‘nobly’ steps up to assume the mayorship until you’re found. I think you can fill in the rest.” Marshmallow gulped. From the look on her face, she didn’t have a hard time figuring out what it would mean if they never found her again. “So, now, you want to kidnap me?” Marshmallow asked. “Just stage one, of course.” Grapevine smiled. “We publicize it and make sure every single pony in the city knows about it.” “But then won’t they just do what they’re planning in the first place?” Grapevine nodded. “Of course they will. The difference, though, is that the police will ‘catch’ the ‘kidnapper’ and keep them in jail. We’ll leak that the kidnapper is looking to exchange information with the police for release, and sooner or later that assassin is bound to show up and silence our fake.” I added in, “Then we have you rescued by the police and have a safe return while we capture the assassin and get him to spill what he knows. You get elected and the bosses have to submit.” Marshmallow looked down for a moment. “But what about Party Line?” “We’ll be looking for him while pretending it’s you we’re searching for,” Grapevine assured her. “Besides, I’m sure the assassin will be happy to let that information go once we have him.” “I don’t know . . .” Marshmallow said. Rover crossed his hooves over his uniformed chest. “See, that’s where I don’t like it. Too many risks. We win their game for them and have to hope that they don’t capitalize on it before we can catch them. No sane pony would ever do this.” Grapevine and I looked at each other for a moment, then back to him. “We have to take risks in a situation like this,” Grapevine said. “We don’t have the time or the resources anymore to get at Pyrrhus. The Pullmare fiasco took years to lead up to, and the election is in days. They’ve already won anyway, so this way we make it on our terms.” I looked at Marshmallow. “It’s still your decision,” I told her. She smoothed her golden mane with two hooves and bit her lip. She waited a moment before nodding her head just a tiny bit. “We can’t let the ponies at Pyrrhus do this to us anymore,” she said. “We have to keep them on our terms.” Grapevine pumped a hoof while Rover rolled his eyes and sighed. Starshine, who was lying on a cot behind the table, slumped out and made her way over to us. “So what parts are we all going to have in this plan?” she asked. Grapevine placed a hoof on her chest. “I’ll be with Marshmallow in an undisclosed location to wait out the whole investigation. Minty will be the pony accused of kidnapping her own friend, and you’ll be the one to guard her in the jail cell.” Rover and I objected at the same time. “My officers can protect her just fine,” he said. “Why do I have to keep ending up in jail?” I protested. Grapevine answered, “If your officers are that good, then Starshine won’t have to worry about a thing, will she? And Minty, well, unless you want to memorize every detail of the city and come up with a half dozen locations for fallback points in case any Pyrrhus agents get close to the hideout, then be my guest. Otherwise, it’s jail time again.” I slumped in my chair. “Fine, whatever.” Rover stood up. “I’ll go get things ready. My stallions will be on standby to react to the kidnapping, but will give you leave to take Marshmallow where you may.” “Then it’s settled.” Grapevine smiled. “It’s time we stage a kidnapping.” *        *        * It was a bit unsettling how well she pulled it off. The police knew it was staged, but even they seemed surprised by the ferocity that Grapevine displayed. I had to admit, it was somewhat fascinating how many racial slurs she managed to pack into her demands as she backed out of the police station with a hoof around Marshmallow’s throat and a gun pointed at her head. She couldn’t be seen, of course, so I was the one in the car. I drove across the city to as many visible areas as possible with the police in “hot pursuit”. That hot pursuit eventually ended around the neighborhood of Chestnut Hill, far out of the city. There, beneath the spreading trees and wide expanses of grass, I ditched the car and waited. Police arrived to take Marshmallow and Grapevine away and detain me for the time being. Then, after a day of “searching”, I was found hiding in the basement of the local library in Chestnut Hill and brought back to the police station for detainment. Now, I sat on yet another cold, hard wooden bench inside of a tiny jail cell while everypony else was out having fun. Joy. The cell was large enough for me to stand in, but if I turned sideways my tail brushed against the wall. The meals so far had been nice, at least, but I couldn’t say the same for the company. “It’s just so weird, me without wings,” Starshine said for the millionth time, pacing up and down the corridor outside my cell. “I mean, with you, your wings don’t really matter. You suck at using them, and you barely use them anyways. But me, well, I’m a flying machine. Literally.” I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.” “Hey, when was the last time you came to me about flying lessons?” “Fine, I get it,” I said. She reached the wall and turned around, pacing back up towards the door at the far end of the jailhouse room. “It’s weird, too, me not having my wings. I feel naked.” “I don’t think I’ve ever not seen you naked,” I said. “No, no, like . . . super naked. Like the naked you get for a good stallion when you rear up your legs and—” “Okay, okay, I get it,” I said. Starshine grinned at me from behind her pink, curly mane. “Your reactions just want me to do it more, you know that, right?” “I’ve been informed of the same from Grapevine,” I grumbled. Starshine snickered. “How’s the old broad holding out, anyway?” “For one,” I said, “she only four years older than you, and for another, she’s fine. We both are.” “Did you have to add that bit on the end?” “Are you going to analyze everything I say?” Starshine leaned against the wall, hiked up on two legs, and crossed her forelegs over her chest. “Just wanting to know a little bit of what’s going on, that’s all,” she said. “I mean, you know I’ve been talking with your boss about positions.” “Oh yeah?” I said. “What about?” “He doesn’t know yet, but he says I’ve got promise.” I laughed and stood up from my bench, walking around a little to stretch my legs out. “Yeah, see, I thought he was saying the same thing when I came here. Turns out, just to get this job I had to come close to dying, oh, five times? Maybe more?” Starshine sniffed. “That won’t be me?” “Oh, and why not?” “I’m not as dumb as you.” Before I could think of a witty retort before the moment turned to awkward silence, the door at the end of the cellblock opened and let a little light stream in to the dank room. Red Rover marched down the row of cells before arriving at mine. Befitting him, however, was a big grin on his face. “You would not believe how much everypony’s freaking out right now,” he said. “The newspapers are going crazy, the radio is spilling with news of this, and every council in the city is in meeting. It’s great!” “So the plan’s going off without a hitch, eh?” I said. He nodded. “All the guards around this building haven’t reported anything so far. We know the assassin is coming, but we’ll be more than ready for him when he does.” “Yeah, about that . . .” I said. “Why, exactly, do I have to wait for him in this cage?” Rover tapped the steel bars, letting them ring out with a harsh, metallic sound. “Safest place in the station for you right now. We’ve got all the keys locked up or in other safe places, and without them it’s just as hard to get into a cell than it is to get out of one.” “Sure, but what if he manages to get a key off a guard?” Rover’s face darkened. “If the assassin manages that, then you never really stood a chance.” He brightened. “But I’m sure it won’t come to that. My guards are being rotated out every four hours and I have only my most loyal officers on the job. In addition, we’ve been in talks with the Royal Guard about coming out here to give us assistance in our ‘investigation.’” Starshine snorted. “Great, just what we need, more government.” “That government is what’s keeping you two from being gutted at the moment,” Rover said. “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss them.” “Sure, easy for you to say.” “Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” I said, “but can we try to focus on this right now?” Starshine crossed her hooves. “Well isn’t somepony selfish.” “She’s right.” Rover coughed and leaned against the bars of the opposite cell from mine. “What do you want to know?” “What’s going on outside?” I asked. “And how’s Grapevine and Marshmallow?” “Things are going according to plan so far,” he said. “The corporations have banded together and ‘nobly’ proposed for one of their own to take the mayoral position until the whole deal is over. Grapevine and Marshmallow are still in hiding, and haven’t indicated that they will come out anytime soon. The guards I posted there report that all is quiet.” “So our plan is, uh, working?” I asked. “Seems like it,” Rover said. “Though let’s not count ourselves out yet. The assassin still hasn’t shown his face, remember.” “And once he does, I’ll be sure to sock it to him,” Starshine promised. Rover laughed and said his goodbyes before departing the cell, leaving me alone with my thoughts and Starshine. When she started to prattle on again, that just left my thoughts. Most of them focused, of course, on the assassin. Who was he? What was he doing? With Pullmare, things had been straightforward in this light, at least. She hadn’t messed around. But with Pyrrhus? The game had already changed and here I was, only prepared to win the last one. Day turned to night and the only light coming in to the cell from the small window was from the afterglow of downtown Fillydelphia and the occasional star. Starshine had dragged herself into a cot and fell to sleep on it, snoring softly. I eventually laid myself on the rickety bed in the cell and did my best to match Starshine’s example. Not that it was easy. Too much of it reminded me of the restless nights I’d had since I had come to the city. Some were restless by choice, of course. Namely those with Sterling, but all the others . . . I drifted in and out of sleep for a time, and my mind was caught in that land between dreams and reality, like an endless plain of mystery and wonder. At some point I thought I heard a mighty rumble, but for all I knew I had imagined it. It was not until later, however, that I was awake enough to realize I was not alone in my cell. My heart quickened as I rose off my cot to make out the silhouette of a figure all in black, leaning against the wall opposite of me. We wore a white, expressionless mask that concealed any face he might have had. “Quite a resplendent night, isn’t it?” he said, nodding toward the far wall of my cell. When I looked, however, I beheld a massive hole in the masonry that peeked out on the streets outside. Moonlight danced over the hole and shined across half his mask, while the other side of his face was hidden in shadow. “It is rare, in my line of work, to share a view such as this,” he continued, “but tonight I may make an exception.” “Wh-Who are you?” I stammered. He sighed. “Why must they all say that? Who I am is irrelevant, but you may perhaps be more interested in what I am. Though, to answer that, might be a more complex task.” From under his cloak he produced a small dagger that he scraped along the wall, making a small scratching sound. “I am but a pawn with dreams of being king. My job, however, takes me farther off the board than I might have dreamed. Someday I hope to return, not as a white knight, but as a black rook, moving against the queen . . .” “Yeah, I get it, chess,” I said. The longer he went on, the less I started to care about the dagger. That, and ponies acting like knowing how to play chess made them better was a pet peeve that went a little deeper than, say, danger. For my part, the assassin laughed. “Very good!” he said. “While most ponies are content with metaphors and similes, you and I—” He leaned over and stuck the dagger in my face until the silver tip touched my nose. “We deal more in the reality of things. Isn’t that right, Minty Flower?” “You know me?” “Of course.” I could hear him laugh again, a harsh sound. “You are she who is feared by masters in this city. You are a killer, and an eloquent one at that. Who would think that your simple guise hides the mare who killed Pullmare, that Germane, and many others?” “I’m not a killer,” I said. He slid the blade of the dagger across my cheek. A shallow cut appeared and it stung. “That is what we all say, don’t we? But, well, you won’t get to see quite yet tonight. You see, Minty, I am not here to kill you, but to bring you with me to my master. And in just a moment—” He had been focused so much on me, and I on him, that neither of us had paid attention to the click of the cell door opening or the pony standing there. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what was going on until the assassin was swept aside as a pink and green ball of pissed off pegasi tackled him to the ground. Starshine’s hoof connected with the assassin’s mask, cracking it down the right side. He tried to sweep at her with his dagger, but she was on top and shoved his hoof to the ground. While she was doing that, though, he used his other foreleg to knock her in the side of the head. Her grip slipped, and the assassin made for the dagger. I jumped at him, but didn’t make it in time. He grabbed the dagger and came up swinging. The blade sliced across the my chest, around my sternum, and cut a deep gash through it. Pain lanced through my body, hot and angry. It felt like my entire chest burned as the wound gaped open in the air. I cried out and fell to the ground. Starshine rushed to my side, but the assassin smashed his hoof on her head and she went down, out like a light. I watched as he stood over me. He looked at my wound once, then reached into his cloak and pulled out a white piece of cloth. He pressed it to my face and the world slipped away. *        *        * When I woke up, I was much higher than I had been before. Something pegasus in me was telling me I was way up above the ground, even if the room looked more like a hellish dungeon than anything else. The room was bare for the most part with gunmetal walls adorned with banners of a fire motif. The rug under me that ran the length of the room had flame designs in it that led up to, no joke, what looked like an iron throne. Behind it was a massive fireplace that burned bright and cast the room in a sinister glow. I looked down at myself and saw a bandage that had been hastily slapped on my chest. Blood still seeped into it, but not enough to kill me or anything. I shuddered that I actually had a thought like that. When I tried to move my limbs and wings, I found them bound. Again. Joy. Looking to the left and right, I saw Starshine had been brought, as well as Party Line, who made his reappearance. My stomach sank when I saw that Grapevine and Marshmallow had been taken as well. They were all tied and gagged but I found that I, in fact, was still free to speak. Somepony began to clap and all of us looked up. Stepping out of the shadows around the throne was the assassin still in his garb and another pony. He was older, but moved as quick as his assassin did. His charcoal coat was complemented by a fiery mane that alternated between red, orange, and yellow. The cutie mark on his rump was the same stylized flame that adorned everything else in the room. Not exactly subtle, this guy. “Nice to see you all waking up,” the pony said. “You should all be familiar with my associate, of course. As for me, well, you may all call me Pilot Light.” I cocked my head. “You know I’m the only one here that can talk, right?” Grapevine made some muffled shouts—no doubt filled with obscenities—my way. “Of course I know,” Light said. “I wouldn’t want any of these . . . lessers . . . get in the way of our conversation.” “Lessers?” “Lesmphph?” Grapevine asked through her gag. “Yes, lessers,” Light repeated, walking over to me. “You see, these ponies here . . . they shape nothing! They are bound to ebb and flow of society. But we are not.” “You do know both mayoral candidates are here, right?” I asked. He laughed. “Of course. But what is a mayor but the tallest blade of grass that sways to the winds of the populace?” I wanted to scratch my head. “Is it just a rule that all the important ponies here have to talk in metaphors?” “Power, Minty Flower,” Pilot Light said, “grows larger in the dark. A mayor who is transparent to those he or she rules will never have the power to truly rule. But put on a facade and the whole world falls to its knee.” I paused. “So . . . you think I am in your little power game?” “Always the humble one, I see.” Light smiled. “But yes, you are. Think, Minty Flower. You killed the most powerful mare in the city and toppled a political and industrial empire. You killed a Germane refugee being hunted by not one but two governments. Then, to top it off, you arrested one of the most notorious crime bosses in the city. You are a force as unstoppable as that of nature. And that has made the other powers in this city afraid. Nothing is scarier than a force for good. Bad is content to sit and be happy, but good never stops moving and is impossible to stop once it has started.” I snorted. “So I’m an unstoppable force for good now?” “As much as you would deny it, the evidence seems to hold true,” Light said. He sighed. “But that is not why you are here. In fact, your presence here is simply a blessing. It will make it that much easier to get rid of you. It’s sad, really. I wish we could have talked more.” Pilot Light turned, smiling, to the assassin, presumably to order my execution. What he got for his trouble, however, was a dagger to the throat. I watched the silver blade poke out the back of his neck. His eye focused, unbelieving, on the dagger even as he gagged on his own blood. After a moment of struggle, he slumped to the ground. The assassin tsked and retrieved his blade from the dead Pilot Light with a sharp tug. A little blood sprayed as the dagger came free, and the assassin wiped it on the late stallion’s coat to keep it clean. “Such a waste of time,” he said. “Always talking, but never doing!” I stared at him. “W-What just happened?” “Power,” the assassin replied. “Pilot Light spoke of it and its origin, but did not understand himself. Power grows strong in the dark, but he was never this.” The assassin laughed. “He put a face to his empire, and you see how well it served him.” “And you . . . killed him.” “Would you have rather me let him go on? He was, after all, just as much a villain as Pullmare, yet I killed him in one fell swoop while you watched.” I gulped. “Then what was the whole point of all this?” The assassin said nothing, but I could almost swear his mask smiled. “For Pilot Light, he sought to control your Marshmallow friend through her naivety and his political strength. He wanted to play a game of shadows; an unseen puppeteer. You can see how well that worked for him.” He swished his cape around himself until only the top of his mask was showing. “But for me, today was a demonstration, Minty Flower. You asked who I was earlier, and now you see. I am but a mask. A visage that others project themselves and their fears onto. I am what is wrong with society and what we have to fear for our children. To fight me is to fight an ideal and to join is to do nothing more than question those who only want you to obey. I am the winter breeze in summer time. The world is broken, but I’m just fine.” Lightning fast, he whirled around and produced a small knife from within his cloak and cut my restraints in the shape of a “v”. They fell to the floor, but I was left unharmed. He threw the knife and it embedded itself in the floorboard at my hooves. The blade vibrated for a moment. “Free your friends,” he said. “They have been through enough today.” I looked at him then slid the dagger out of the floor and held it in my hooves. “So . . . you were on our side?” He laughed. “Oh, Minty, don’t you know? Sides are only for those who wish to be blind to the world around them. You and I are not on any side but our own, and it is only the future that will tell which one comes out ahead. You see, the death of Pilot Light is only the beginning: a warning. With the death of the last figurehead, this city will descend into chaos to look for a leader.” He looked at Marshmallow and Party Line lying on the ground and snorted. “We can only hope it’s not either of these two.” With that, he sprang up and past us toward the rear of the room. I turned to see him halfway out two massive, coal-black doors. “Wait!” I cried. He stopped for a second. “The fire in Rapture . . . what was that about?” I asked. “Some ponies have purpose in their methods,” he said. “But perhaps I just wanted to watch the world burn.” A moment later, he was gone. As I undid the last of my restraints and started to work on the others, I thought about his last answer. The idea that he didn’t have a real motive . . . somehow that made Pilot Light look like a simpleton. And made the assassin all the more scary. “You going to pout all day or finish untying me?” Grapevine grumbled. I went back to work. *        *        * A few days later, I stood with Grapevine near the back of the crowd that watched Marshmallow get inaugurated as the Mayor of Fillydelphia up on a big wooden stage under a dozen flowing banners. In the end, with the death of Pilot Light, she had come away the most clean and won more of the vote than Party Line ever could. Then again, after all that had happened, he probably didn’t mind so much. “This is going to make a good story, huh?” Grapevine asked. She was decked out in some slick blue dress Joya had made her wear. She’d done the same for me, to sponsor Marshmallow’s “official” color. “I guess you could say that,” I said. “But which one of us is going to write it?” Grapevine shrugged. “Why not both? I feel more like doing an editorial, anyway.” Marshmallow gave an oath and became the mayor under a sunny blue sky. Serenity hovered overhead, the massive steel and wood platform acting as her vigilant guard for the city she would now helm. I looked around. Millions of ponies . . . and she controlled all of them with her decisions. No power, my flank . . . “So the pretty little girl from the Royal family becomes ruler of the underclass,” a voice from behind said, “how surprising.” I turned around to find Ivory standing over us. His lean form towered above ponies, as usual. Even though his mottled gray posterior was that of a pony’s, the only thing anyone noticed was the other half of him, which was a spitting image of a griffin. His beak curled up in a grin. “Been awhile, Minty.” “I thought it smelled raunchy around here . . .” Grapevine mumbled. “Hey, Ivory, how . . . convenient. Where have you been?” “Oh, nowhere special,” he said. “But it’s where I’m going to next that will matter more.” “And where’s that?” There was a twinkle in his eye. “That’s for another time. Come on, your friend just received her Mayorship! It’s a day to celebrate!” I nodded and, with a grin, joined him and Grapevine as we made our way to the stage to congratulate Marshmallow and enjoy the fruits of the day. For a second, though, I thought I could see one pony in black watching me in the crowd as we went. But maybe that was just me.