//------------------------------//
// Amethyst 4A: Invitation 
// Story: Lost Legacies 
// by AkibaWhite 
//------------------------------//


Edited by Cynewulf


[Night of Day 32]
A quill pen danced across the parchment on Twilight's oaken desk, guided by her magic in the flickering candlelight as it jotted down letter after perfectly-formed letter.  Twilight Sparkle gazed at the results with a furrowed brow and terse frown.  

Knock, knock.

Twilight flinched, then breathed a little sigh of relief—she'd lifted the pen before her sudden movement.  "Who is it?" she asked as she turned to face the door.

Spike stood at the threshold to her bedroom, silhouetted by the lanterns of the main library.  "Just me.  Can I come in?"

"Sure," Twilight replied.  She set the pen back in its inkwell and relaxed her stiff posture.  "I thought you were Derpy at first."

Spike offered a smile as he stepped inside.  "Nah, she's asleep."

Twilight looked to the moon outside her eye-shaped window; it had barely risen above the treeline on the horizon.  "This early?"

"She hit the sack pretty quick last night too," said Spike.  He glanced over the parchment.  "Maybe she just needs some rest after the last couple of days."

"Hmm," mused Twilight.  "Odd, considering how chipper she's been since the fight with the Amalgam."

Spike's eyes widened.  "Hey, are you done with the translation?"

Twilight's frown returned.  "Yep."

"Did you get anything about Screw Loose from it?"

Twilight tried to smile—the first step in a planned sarcastic retort, but only partially succeeded.

Spike shuffled his feet.  "Um, why do you look like you're gonna eat my face?"

Twilight's horn shone once more, lifting the parchment off the desk and bringing it in front of her.  "How about I just read it to you—second opinion and all that?"

Spike nodded up and down.  "Go for it.  I'd wanna hear it anyway."

Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat and obliged the young dragon's curiosity, albeit with the driest, most unenthusiastic reading she'd ever done in her life.

"You who wish for blood most true,
To regain the smile you knew,
Listen close, for you will see,
Tearily, your enemy.

Vanquish it?  Indeed I can,
But I am a shackled man.
Bound am I by lock and key,
Not by cage of royalty.

Capture both within your hooves;
Tearily, it then shall move.

Seek the key where, much like you,
It's inside of blood most true.
Golden glow of corpse of life,
Is the key that is the knife.

Tearily, it will defy,
With the doll that cannot die.
Do whatever must be done,
For the rest are six, not one.

Fly them off, as would a hawk,
Pieces of the broken lock,
Five at least about the neck,
'Tis the seventh they bedeck.

On the road the witch destroyed;
Tearily, you must avoid.
Key in lock you must not turn;
At the seventh it must burn.

If all's foe should pass you by,
Unseen by your careful eye,
Four names, four thirds, three a lie,
Lead the way when you must cry.

When at last from sun they're shorn,
Turn to face the jumbled thorn.
Spurn them all, those misnamed trees,
Find the place called Everfree.

Towers plunge into the ground,
Many colors all around.
Keep to shadow, watch your back,
Lest the stones you do attract.

Up the stairs that run you down,
To the treasure trove in brown,
High atop the place you dread,
Take the road they fear to tread.

Look to heaven from the grave,
Of the many happy slaves.
See the fountain that does rise,
From the rock to sunless skies.

At the forge of blackest stone,
There the witch you must dethrone.
Bid farewell to what you've known,
Empty arms thereby disown.

Thus the truth you do unfold.
Who would dare?
None but the bold."

Twilight lowered the parchment enough to give her awestruck companion a knowing look.  "So, did you attain enlightenment?  Divine any cosmic truths about our favorite madpony?"

Spike pointed a solitary claw at the paper.  "Dude, that's creepy."

"Creepy?  Try 'frustrating,'" declared Twilight.  She tossed the scroll back onto the desk and snorted disdainfully.  "Almost two weeks of translation work on top of everything else I have to take care of just to find a riddle?"  She growled.  "Why can't anything about this situation be simple?  You know, easy to figure out?"

Spike watched her fume in silence for a moment, then folded his arms.  "How long has it been since you've had a good night's sleep?"

Twilight blinked.  "What?  Why?"

Spike counted off the answers on his claws.  "Two nights ago you were out in the woods looking for Screw Loose.  Last night you were still tearing up the library for Ancient Equestrian books when I went to bed."  His expression softened.  "Screw Loose burned up, remember?  Maybe you should relax a bit."

Twilight turned to the mirror at her bedside with the full intention of lecturing her companion on the importance of her task.  The sight of her bloodshot eyes reduced her to silence.

Spike walked forward to face her.  "Besides, the Princess is looking for answers too.  You're not all alone in this."

Twilight looked at the floor.  "Is there still no word from her?"

Spike shook his head, but smiled and let out a puff of green fire.  "We could always ask for an update, I guess."

The mere mention of the idea brought a great sense of comfort to Twilight.  However, this only served to shame her.  She blushed and stamped a hoof.  "No, she'll just think that I can't handle this myself.  Princess Celestia is pretty busy after all; she must not have the time to deal with this problem like I can."  Despite her self-reassurance, Twilight ended up slumping her shoulders.  "I wish I had something helpful to show One Liner at least."

Spike sucked in air through his teeth.  "Oh, right."  He pointed a thumb toward the entryway.  "Liner's at the front door, actually."

Twilight's mouth fell open.  "That's why you came up here?!"

"Yeah," Spike barely had time to mumble before his panicked companion galloped out the door.  "Kinda skipped my mind?" he said to the empty room.  As the noise of Twilight tripping over herself on her way to the front door echoed from the main library, Spike's eyes drifted toward the candlelit desk and, overcome by curiosity, he decided to give the riddle another look.  However, in shifting the parchment closer to the light, he revealed the cover of a book underneath.  

"The Good Stallion," Spike read aloud.  "How to Tell the Difference Between Mister Right and Mister Right Now."  His left eye twitched.  "Seriously?"


~


At the southeastern tip of Ponyville—some distance into the woods, in fact—stood a shuttered farmhouse.  Clad in pale white paint for the purpose of resale, it appeared ghostly and ethereal under the light of the full moon.  Two more lights of faint orange flickered in the night—one from inside the house's boarded-up windows, the other from a lantern at the edge of a dilapidated barn several yards away.

"Liner," whispered Twilight Sparkle.

The trenchcoated stallion seemed not to hear and maintained his vigil, a lantern that she'd insisted he get rid of still held in his teeth.  They stood in the shadow of the barn opposite the farmhouse, with One Liner leaning around the corner, looking for all the world as if he expected unicorn snipers to have their sights on him.  All except for the giveaway lantern, that is.

Twilight summoned her magic, created a pair of small planar auras on either side of the candle flame, and pushed them together.  The light went out, causing One Liner to hold up the snuffed lantern and look for the cause.  His expression turned positively baffled when a glowing arrow appeared above the wick, pointing directly behind him.

"Liner," Twilight whispered louder.

At last the earth pony stallion turned about, sheepish grin showing beneath the brim of his fedora.  "Sorry, old habit," he mumbled before lowering the useless lantern to the ground.

Twilight pawed at the dirt.  "Um, why did you bring me out to the old Carrot farm?"

Liner coughed and straightened his jaw.  "My apologies, Miss Twilight.  I should have explained myself a bit better on the way."  He took a quick peek around the corner.  "Do you remember the pony cages in the Storm Hollow?  Did anything about their presence seem terribly unusual to you?"

Is this a trick question? was the first thing Twilight thought to say.  However, she decided to trust that Liner wouldn't waste her time.  "Well, that they were from Ponyville Memorial certainly qualifies."  She sighed.  "Still, if Screw Loose could get the Ventium out of there, then I guess it's not all that surprising."

Liner turned back around to meet her gaze.  "Those two items have more in common than their place of origin.  A question occurred to me as I thought on it last night:  how would Screw Loose know where to find either of them?"

Twilight raised an eyebrow.  "She was in the N.T. ward for a few months, right?"

Liner shook his head.  "Patients aren't shown where the drugs are; I double-checked that with Director Redheart earlier today.  Furthermore, outdated equipment like those cages are stored in a basement that doesn't even have a conventional entrance.  How would any patient, much less a patient like Screw Loose, know to lift the tile in a first-story storage closet to uncover the trap door leading down there?"

Twilight shrugged.  "It's not exactly the first thing she's done that we can't properly explain."

One Liner grimaced.  "If we chalk it up to her magic, we're left with a picture of her walking through walls, diving through the floor, invisible to all, with no mistakes made at any time."  His frown grew tighter.  "It's possible, of course, but that line of reasoning zig-zags all over the place."  The corner of his mouth turned up.  "Now, suppose that it was a matter of convenience instead."

"Convenience?"

Liner pointed a hoof at her.  "How would you normally take the Ventium bottles out of the building?"

Twilight had to think on that for a moment.  "You'd . . . have to use that tool from the director's office to remove the repulsion spell first."

"You'd use the tool from the director's office," Liner paraphrased.  "And the director would certainly know the locations of both the medicine and the basement."

Twilight's eyes widened.  "You're suspecting Director Redheart?"

Liner shook his head once more.  "She wasn't the director when the thefts occurred.  Remember the sloppy labeling on the Ventium?"  He tipped up the brim of his fedora.  "The line of reasoning that connects the items in the Hollow back to their point of origin straightens out if you include the previous director, Mister Fever Dream, as an accomplice."

Twilight's mouth fell open.  "Why?  Why would anypony help her like that?"

Liner turned back to the corner of the barn.  "That's the missing piece we're here to fill in."

Twilight Sparkle joined him this time, leaning around his cologne-scented form to gaze at the flickering orange glow emanating from the farmhouse.  "You think Fever Dream ended up here of all places?"

"I spent all morning canvassing low-income residents," Liner replied.  "He has no registered address with the post office, and there's no record of him crossing the Shining Circle at any time since its activation."

Twilight winced.  "The Shining Circle?  I thought they'd never turn that thing back on after the Harmony Storm."

Liner gave a soft chuckle.  "The knights can be abrasive at times, but they'd never risk exposing Ponyville to changelings any longer than necessary.  To answer your question, though, a pair of eyewitnesses recognized Fever Dream from a photograph as a drifter they've seen moving in and out of this location."  He smiled.  "They said they hadn't seen him in a while, but it looks like we're in luck."

A tiny smile appeared on Twilight's face as well.  "Actually, you didn't answer my question."

Liner turned to face her with the wide-eyed expression of a valedictorian receiving a failing grade.

Twilight tapped a hoof on the ground.  "I asked you why you brought me out to the old Carrot farm.  After what happened in the Everfree Forest, I can't imagine Canterlot refusing to send you magic support."  She tilted her head to the side.  "And then there's the knights.  I know they don't take orders from the police, but there have got to be more than a few skilled unicorns among them who'd be happy to help out."

One Liner coughed and looked away.  "Can I be frank with you, Miss Twilight?"

Twilight gave a swish of her tail.  "Why wouldn't you be?"

Liner frowned in discomfort.  "I'm not what you'd call . . . well-liked.  The Canterlot V.C.U. is a small department, and cases are infrequent at best.  My colleagues revel in the downtime, but I try to keep myself busy by helping out other departments.  I think it's the right thing to do as an officer of the law.  Even so, I've gained a reputation as something of an annoying busybody.  The fact that I don't usually socialize well hasn't helped matters."  He returned his blue-eyed gaze to Twilight.  "You're right, of course.  Under these circumstances, no department in Canterlot could legitimately table any request I make.  Even so . . ."  

One Liner shuffled his front hooves.  "In a case with so many unknowns, I'd rather work with somepony I trust and respect, somepony who wants to do the right thing, not a begrudgingly tolerant office worker here to collect a bonus."  He turned back to the farmhouse.  "But it seems I've made myself an annoyance here as well."

Twilight walked out in front of him and offered a playful smile.  "No, you made the right choice."

It was One Liner's turn to tilt his head to the side.  "I did?"

"I was trying to figure this mess out before you even got here, remember?  If you'd left me behind on this one, you'd have been due for an earful in the morning."

Liner tipped the brim of his fedora low and smiled.  "Glad to hear it, Miss Twilight."

As they ascended the hill toward the farmhouse together, Twilight asked, "So, ready to get to the bottom of this?"

Liner slipped on his shades.  "As I recall, we've already been there.  Let's take it from the top this time."

NEXT
Episode 08: Falling Water