//------------------------------// // Chapter 19: Inquisition // Story: Fabrication // by Bomber //------------------------------// “For the billionth time,” Blake nearly laughed, barely able to stifle his seemingly inevitable laughter. “The doo-hickey inside the cylindrical ballistic rod creates a miniature nuclear explosion, propelling the bullet faster than your bows and arrows could ever hope to accomplish.” For the past two hours, Blake fed Day Break inane and ludicrous information, steering the gullible professor far more off his current course to understanding the complexities of human ingenuity than he previously thought possible. The lemon-yellow unicorn ate up every half-baked word that came out of his throat, jotting down a multitude of various notes on a thick parchment. Of course, Day Break wasn’t entirely stupid. At many points during Blake’s dense descriptions on how his assault rifle functioned, the professor would ask about something very specific, a countless amount of miscellaneous questions stockpiled for future use. “Why on earth would anypony name the parts to their inventions as idiotic as this?” Day Break questioned, closely examining the torn apart weapon with a tiny magnifying glass. “This makes absolutely no sense. The weapon itself is genius, but the names of all the components? Moronic.” Blake briefly craned his neck away, a few chirps of laughter escaping his lips. He immediately disguised his hilarity by roughly coughing to hopefully dissuade Day Break from picking up on the fact that everything Blake said was complete nonsense. “I suppose I haven’t explained to you why the parts were named like this,” Blake sighed, pretending to seem annoyed with the professor’s numerous inquiries. Day Break’s ears perked slightly. “You better tell me the complete and honest truth,” he commanded, dipping his raven black quill in a small jar of ink. “My patience is running low. You’re treading on thin ice, my little human. So far your words sound similarly to total hogwash.” “I can see why you’re feeling this way,” Blake smirked, leaning forward. “I thought it was complete bullshit too when I first learned about it during school.” “Tell me!” Day Break snapped, his usual merry grin abruptly transforming into a deep frown. “The clock is ticking, the hour hand speeding faster than I had originally hoped. I need to know every discrete detail at once, and this goal cannot be accomplished with your sudden and irrelevant tangents.” “Alright,” Blake agreed, half-smiling. “So the inventor of gunpowder and firearms was a man from London, the capital of England. His name was Sherlock Holmes, I believe, though I’m not one-hundred percent sure. As I already told you, humans had been using weapons like ponykind’s for thousands of years. Swords, axes, spears, crossbows. So of course, when word got around that this man had invented a more powerful weapon than all of those combined, people sought to steal his blueprints and recreate their own versions of the rifle before he could patent it. “After a failed robbery into his workshop, Sherlock realized the importance of his new creation and how rich and famous he could become once he revealed its use to the world. He then proceeded to produce new blueprints almost identical to the original ones, but instead he thoroughly explained how to construct the rifle from scratch in a code that he created. He named the components with names so ludicrous, robbers thought that his plans were fakes. He burned all of the originals in his fireplace so that no one could steal his blueprints and build their own. So yeah, doo-hickey sounds incredibly stupid, but that’s how it has been traditionally called for thousands of years. Deal with it.” “Amazing story,” Day Break sarcastically said. “But this brings me no closer to what I have brought you here for. At this rate, I won’t figure out anything in time.” “Well, you asked a question and I answered it, simple as that,” Blake shrugged, the pit of his stomach roaring like an enormous lion. He couldn’t remember the last time he consumed a plateful of food, but he ignored his stomach’s constant pleas for even a mere crumb to digest in order to continue to please Day Break. It was impossible to tell the exact time in that dreary, cramped room. Minutes? Hours? Days? There was no current source to satisfy his needs to figure out the time. He knew that he had only three measly days before his bodily functions began to shut down. If Day Break planned on refusing him food or drink, he longed to know how close he was to the clock reaching zero and his short life coming to a sudden close. Day Break, for the first time, decided to abide to Blake’s silent demands. “Even though I do not have the seconds to spare, we cannot proceed if you are not in top condition. I shall depart from our conversation momentarily to allow you to eat. My assistant will bring you a meal shortly, and will undo the bonds holding your wrists after he has left the room. Do not attempt to escape. Know that I have a much stronger outside force than you may think. Vigilant and I are not the only players in this little chess game of ours. There are dozens of spectators perceiving every move we uphold, making sure that there are no cheaters or ponies trying to shortcut their way to victory...” He paused, a cloud of sparkly magic gently lifting every item from the plastic table. “You have ten minutes. Use them wisely.” The professor marched his way to the exterior of the room, Blake’s miscellaneous tools and gadgets following suit. Damn, so much for blindly shooting my way out of this mess, he thought, his mind desperately trying to formulate another brilliant way to escape the unicorn’s vile clutches. He transiently had the idea of fighting his way hand-to-hand until he could reassemble his military-grade weapons or grasp his hand over the Taser, but that jet black unicorn, Vigilant, had already defeated him once. Who’s to say that he won’t do it again? Not to mention if Day Break wasn’t jesting about hiring additional goons, he’d be outnumbered and beaten at a moment’s notice. The human was certainly no black-belt karate expert, and his fighting style consisted only of carefully timed blocks and concise jabs at his opponent. Fighting multiple enemies simultaneously would only end in utter disaster. “Speak of the devil,” Blake whispered to himself as the black unicorn scuffled into the room, levitating a glass plate with a decent quantity of food mixed together on top. Vigilant delicately dropped the plate onto his lap. He then trotted directly beside Blake, raising his thick muzzle next to his ear. “You’re not alone, kid,” he murmured in a barely audible tone. “Look, I know that you don’t trust me, heh heh, I’d be surprised if you didn’t, but you should know that my contract with that son of a mare will be terminated soon.” The unicorn gave pause, glancing at the door intently to double-check that the professor had not randomly reentered the room. After reassuring that he was still quite safe, he turned back to the human who was curiously staring at him. “Have you heard the saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend?’ We might not be on equal terms, kid, but we both share a common interest, and that’s kicking Day Break’s sorry flank until he can’t even bear to stand. Just give me three days and I’ll have you out of here.” Vigilant shifted his weight, swinging his body around until it swiveled towards the door. He calmly cantered away, and before Blake could voice that he was still left tied, a bright aura enveloped the rope-tape. Gravity overcame the material and went limp across Blake’s lap, knocking a small portion of his precious food onto the dusty concrete floor. Blake cursed, aggressively tossing the rope-tape across the room. He investigated the contents on the plate before him. A piece of slightly moldy bread slathered with butter, a semi-rotten golden delicious apple, a pile of assorted nuts, and a (not even close to ripe) banana. It certainly wasn’t a feast fit for a king, but Blake chowed down nonetheless, quickly shoving mouthfuls of food at a time. He was grateful that the professor didn't choose to provide him with any inedible food such as flowers or hay. While he ate, he also used the time to cautiously contemplate Vigilant’s words. He tried to weigh the various outcomes and the unavoidable consequences that would follow if he chose to trust his life in the unicorn’s hooves, the same ones that rendered him unconscious and stuck in this catastrophe in the first place. It’s not like I have many other options, he pondered, the dryness of the apple he chomped into almost causing him to gag. Despite it tasting awful, he forced himself to take bite after bite. But if any other opportunities arise, I’m gonna take them. Something seems off with Vigilant, and I doubt he really cares for my well-being. I bet this is probably some trap to give Day Break an excuse to brutishly torture me in some way. However, I highly doubt that I can keep up this fabricating phony information business that’s going to cause me a lot of trouble if I get found out. I guess I’ll have to improvise and make a quick decision when the time comes. In a few short minutes, his plate was thoroughly cleared of any and all food. He carefully set the core of the apple and the leftover banana peel aside. Then without hesitation, he slammed the plate onto the ground with a huge amount of force. It shattered into a hundred fragments, swiftly spreading all across the tainted ground. Blake snatched two of the fragments and stuffed them into the back pocket of his tattered, worn-out jeans. He hypothesized that the broken and jagged pieces would be able to cut through the rope-tape without too much difficulty. Unfortunately, his theory would have to be tested at a later date as Day Break burst into the room with full speed to investigate the sudden, sharp noise. “What in the blazes happened in here?” Day Break angrily questioned, staring daggers into Blake’s eyes. “I sneezed and accidently dropped the plate,” Blake lied, his poker face better than ever. “Vigilant! Fetch me a broom!” Day Break shouted, just noticing the serrated pieces of broken glass strewn about the room. “I suppose we’ll have to force feed you like a foal from now on. This is inconceivable.” “You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means,” Blake said, having to stifle another few fits of laughter again. “Excuse me?” Day Break barked, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Never mind,” Blake shrugged, as if he previously said nothing at all. “Unbelievable.” And the score is: Blake Johnson: One. Professor Day Break: Zero. Three days was a lengthy period to be trapped in that congested room, but he ultimately decided that making Day Break’s life a living hell would be an awesome way to pass the time. <><><><><><><><><><> Lyra felt completely out of place as soon as she entered the mess hall, like a vegetable surrounded by various sugary treats at Sugar Cube Corner. She mentally counted twenty-one stallions in the huge dining area, almost all of them neatly dressed in heavy, golden armor. However, only one stood out from the crowd, a jet black pegasus with a sapphire-blue mane sitting alone in the far corner of the mess. Guessing that this was the sergeant she was informed of previously, she made her across the room, ducking her head to draw attention away from herself. Despite her wishes to stay out of the spotlight, the majority of the grim soldiers eyeballed her apprehensively, but refrained from making any skeptical comments about her sudden arrival. “Sergeant Ebony?” Lyra asked once she reached his table. The pegasus glanced at her curiously, then returned to his breakfast consisting of some form of oatmeal. “Yeah, that’s me. What of it?” he asked irritably, shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. “Um… my name’s Lyra Heartstrings,” she introduced somewhat shyly, scratching the back of her neck with a hoof. “I was told that I could find you here.” The sergeant nodded his head. “Yep, Princess Luna informed me that you would be tagging along with our investigation team today,” Ebony said angrily, like he hated the entire world and everything that resided within it. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Lyra cautiously asked, unsure of what she was apologizing for. “Today’s my anniversary with my wife,” Ebony explained. Another spoonful of oatmeal. “We were supposed to be leaving for Las Pegasus later this afternoon, so as you can tell, I’m not too happy that I was called in for an investigation last night. But considering the lockdown that’s been set into motion by the princesses, I guess we wouldn’t be leaving too soon anyways. Still, I would rather be spending the whole day with her rather than working on some missing-pony case.” “Uh, how long have you two been married?” Lyra inquired, trying to continue the conversation and hopefully get on his good side. She could easily tell that this particular pony was not a force to be reckoned with, especially when he was rather pissed off. “Eleven years,” he replied, a half-smile creeping on his lips. Another spoonful. “And I’ve loved every day of it.” “It must be difficult working as a part of the Royal Guard full-time. You probably have no time to see her that often,” Lyra figured. Ebony chuckled. Another spoonful. “The Royal Guard? Miss, I’m a member of the Canterlot Police Department. It’s not often that our two forces correlate with one another on any kind of assignment, but with big toughies like one we have on our hooves right now, we sometimes require all the help we can possibly get.” The mint-green unicorn nodded her head in apprehension. “That makes sense,” she said, uncertain of what else to say. It had only been a couple of minutes, but she felt extremely intimidated by the sergeant. He wasn’t towering in height, and he certainly wasn’t packing on gargantuan, bulging muscles that could be noticed from a mile away. He simply had that distinct aura that made him, well, different than other ponies. Lyra couldn’t exactly place her hoof on it, but she knew that there was more to the private investigator than met the eye. “You’d think it would, but working with those grim fellows is not exactly the most fun thing to do in Equestria,” Ebony said, rolling his piercing blue eyes. Another spoonful, but this time, all that grazed his mouth was a chockfull of oxygen. He sighed in discontentment, gently pushing the bowl away. Immediately, as if sensing that somepony was thoroughly finished, a maid pony entered the room. Maids were plentiful throughout the castle, and normally Lyra wouldn’t have paid any fraction of her attention to any of them wandering around, but this one caught her golden eye. It was Sidestep, the pony who originally called the Royal Guards to her aid the previous night. “Fancy meeting you here,” Sidestep said, suddenly noticing the presence of Lyra as well. “You okay?” “I’m fine,” Lyra replied, shrugging her shoulders, “though I can’t help but feel extremely tired.” “You and me both,” the tan-coated unicorn yawned, collecting the leftover bowl and spoon with a wisp of her magic and steadily placing the items on a large, black tray probably used for compiling large quantities of dirty plates and dishes. “Just thought I’d also let you know that the creeper from last night had to spend the entire night at the city jail and pay a small fine. Nothing too big, but they’ll probably let him out by noon later today.” “That’s reassuring. Hopefully he doesn’t get his greedy hooves on any other unsuspecting mares too soon,” Lyra chuckled, catching the suspicious gaze of the police sergeant through her peripheral vision. It barely dawned on her that the poor guy had absolutely no idea what they were even talking about. She matched her own sight with his. “Uh, don’t worry about it, there was just this incident with a stallion at the Gala last night, and this mare happened to see it.” “Key Stroke, I presume?” Ebony asked, raising an eyebrow. Lyra nodded, affirming his suspicion. “Nothing too big happens in Canterlot, not nearly as much as crime in Manehattan and Fillydelphia, so when something goes down within the limits of this city, you can be sure that I’ll be the one of the first ponies to know. Unfortunately not many charges can be pressed against your loving companion, considering he didn’t attempt much and his intents are still unknown, not to mention that if there wasn’t a witness, he would’ve gotten off scot-free. Trust me miss, if that stallion would’ve gone a single step further, he’d be spending the next few years of his life under the generous hospitality of the Canterlot Jail. It’s still good to know that you made it out in one-peace, however.” “I wouldn’t have hesitated to knock him up-side the head if he tried anything more suspicious,” Lyra said. “Well, as much as I’d love to make small-chat, I have a job to do,” Sidestep interjected, trotting away from the two ponies with the tray in tow. “Maybe we’ll catch up sometime later, Lyra, but my rent doesn’t pay itself.” Good, because I still want to know what the heck happened between you and Octavia, Lyra mused, watching the unicorn mare envelope a whole army of glass bowls and silver spoons with her levitation magic. “She’s right,” Ebony said, lifting himself away from the exceedingly long table obviously meant to seat a whole squad of troops, not just his lone self. “We also have a job to do, and from the looks of it, the guards are ready to get started.” He walked beside Lyra, the clip-clop of his hooves apparent throughout the most of the room. “Now, miss, here’s some ground rules. This is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to directly work with a common resident, but I’d rather you stay out of my way and only give away information when I ask you to. We’ll be quite busy for the duration of the day, so we honestly will not have many opportunities to make idle chat on the side. Also, don’t even bother trying to communicate with the guards; they act like thick stone walls twenty-four-seven, I swear.” Lyra nodded her head, tagging alongside the sergeant. The guards continued to glare at her precariously, like she was planning to unfold a villainous plot to take over the castle. She did her best to avoid eye contact, but the guard’s bulky, golden armor was unbelievably daunting. She didn’t understand why she felt this way, especially since the guards were a dime a dozen, spreading throughout entire grounds of the castle. It was probably because all attention was pinpointed on her, for whatever reason, but she remained skeptical that it was the accurate answer to her insecurity. They then proceeded to join the glorious, warming outside world once they left the large confines of the mess hall. Princess Celestia’s gleaming, yellow sun was now far past the horizon, but still laid far off to the east. Only a few small batches of drifting, pure white clouds dotted the morning sky, though they seemed a slightly different shade due to the enormous bubble encircling the entire city. A cool, late summer breeze was apparent, with several strands of Lyra’s messy two-toned mane beginning to wander aimlessly. The looming front gate was immediately dropped for the incoming double-file line of Royal Guards, and once Lyra’s hoof hit solid pavement, she realized that she had now left the castle grounds and into the streets of Canterlot. With all the events that had recently transpired, her conscience was uneasy leaving the tight security that the castle had to offer. Nonetheless, she knew that she had to help in any way she could to assist in recovering the location of Blake’s whereabouts. Sergeant Ebony turned, ordering the platoon to split up into ten different two-pony teams, commanding each individual couple to investigate a separate portion of the city. Once he was through giving orders, he asked Lyra to follow him closely, copying every direction he took and never straying far from his side for no reason unless directed to. For close to a half-hour, Lyra poured every little detail about Blake’s appearance to the sergeant after she was asked to do so. The structure of his face, his height, color of eyes and mane (though Blake insisted that it was called “hair”), his stature, the clothes he usually wore, and even a bit of his personality. Ebony remained voiceless during her rather drawn-out explanation, only interrupting to inquire with a few bits that he wasn’t one-hundred percent certain about. While she spoke, she desperately kept trying to communicate with the human, but her unsuccessfulness persisted with absolutely no replies in return. This struck as very outlandish to Lyra as they usually communicated telepathically on a daily basis. The prolonging silence worried her deeply. The pair spent the entirety of the morning in the downtown district of Canterlot, questioning meandering ponies left and right as to what they were doing during the previous night. As most of the high-class citizens generally resided in the surrounding areas, the majority of the ponies described to them that they were fruitfully attending the Grand Galloping Gala at the castle. However, this did not give them the alibi that they were hoping for. Since the kidnapping had transpired at the castle itself, Ebony intensely interrogated each and every pony that admitted to being present at the ball. Most of the ponies seemed indifferent about the whole situation, but Ebony let loose every pony once he was thoroughly finished with his questions. He noted the names of the more equivocal individuals on a small notepad. Their efforts continued to remain futile as the famous downtown clock struck twelve, its astonishingly boisterous bell clearly audible as it rang three distinct times. The morning was officially over and the two were no closer than when they had started. Hardly any ponies were able to reveal any decisive or significant clues, and the guards that returned to voice their reports also brought no good news. Lyra’s reserves of energy were slowly dwindling. Her body wasn’t used to functioning off of so little sleep and the lack of it was unquestionably taking its toll. Though it seemed that it was hopeless, they finally found a pony who actually had a decent quantity of information. “Yeah, I’ll admit, we were near the back of the castle, South Wing, I believe” a dark-grey stallion recalled, scratching the back of his head as his face flushed an intense red. “It was one the restricted areas of the castle, but it was the perfect place for us. I thought that nopony would actually see us…” He paused, too embarrassed to continue with his rather elaborate explanation. “Please, stop there,” Ebony said, shaking his head furiously. “We don’t want to know any more about that… Just tell us what you saw and you can be on your way.” “Okay, I saw two dark figures,” the stallion stated, his face remaining a deep shade of crimson. “I couldn’t make out their faces or the color of the coats due to there being almost no light in the hallway, but it looked like they were dragging something. It was long and slender, maybe a bag of some sorts? I’m not positive, but it kind of resembled a skinny minotaur, but I’m sure that it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.” “Do you remember the type of ponies they were?” Ebony asked. “Both were unicorns, definitely,” the stallion said. “Thank you,” Ebony nodded, gesturing that the stallion could leave. “We may be in contact with you again soon, so don’t be alarmed if the Canterlot Police happen to show up at your doorstep later today. You’re free to go.” “Good day to you, officer,” the stallion said, cantering away at a breakneck pace, obviously wishing to find his way out of his situation as soon as possible. Ebony stared off into the distance, contemplating in serious thought. “What do you think this means?” Lyra cautiously asked, knowing that she wasn’t supposed to say a single word unless spoken to first. “It’s genius, but also incredibly stupid at the same time,” Ebony smiled, laughing under his breath. Lyra glanced at the sergeant inquisitively. “I don’t follow.” “Think of it this way,” Ebony said, craning his head so that their gazes would lock with each other. “The human’s tower is in the East Wing, all the way over yonder.” He turned his sights at the castle, pointing his hoof in the general direction of Blake’s room. “And the gate is in the North Wing. Now, if the witness’ account is accurate, there is no reason that these two should be in the South Wing if neither of the co-conspirators were pegasi. It’s impossible teleport outside the castle’s walls, if from what I heard is true that the human is unaffected by magic. So, this must mean they’re hiding in one of the restricted parts of the castle. Why they’re doing this, I can’t fathom, but it’s actually fairly smart on their part since they must’ve realized that the last place we’d ever look is within the castle itself.” “But what if there was a carriage of pegasi that ended up transporting them somewhere else?” Lyra asked, poking a hole through the sergeant’s hypothesis. Ebony shook his head. “The only place for carriages to land is in the West Wing, and that’s for the personal use of the princesses only. Plus, it’s guarded by a small detachment at all times, so not a single soul is getting in or out without the approval of the guard that’s stationed there.” “So I assume that we’re heading to the South Wing next?” Lyra asked. “The castle is enormous, but it will certainly narrow the search,” Ebony reasoned, turning his attention back towards the castle gates. “I’ll have half of our investigation team sweep the castle while the rest remain within the city. There’s a good chance that our good friend, Sir McPlayer blatantly lied to us in order to get out of a rather, uh, odd predicament, but since no additional clues are present, it’s all we have to go on. We’ll grab a quick lunch at the mess hall and continue on afterwards. Sound good?” Lyra nodded, her stomach growling loudly at the thought of a scrumptious meal. There’s still hope yet, she thought. We’ll find him. I know it. <><><><><><><><><><><> “My queen, everything is set into place and our army is only a few days away from Canterlot. It’s now a waiting game.” “Precisely. My ‘fiancé’s’ love is even more powerful than I had originally thought. Every moment I’m even within a thousand yards of his mere presence, my power grows ever stronger. By the time of the wedding, I’ll be more powerful than Princess Celestia herself.” “You will ultimately win, my queen. May we feed soon?” “Not yet, larvae, you will be able to soon enough. How fares the struggle with Cadence?” “She is trapped within the Crystal Caverns beneath the castle as you have commanded, my queen. She shall remain there until the kingdom is under our dominant control.” “And what has been transpiring with our… temporary ally?” “He has spent hours with the human, my queen. He is quite interested in the creature.” “I’m sure, considering that’s all he ever wanted in the first place. A little toy to be under his permanent control.” “What shall we do with the professor after Equestria is ours, my queen?” “Assimilate his love and feed, of course. Nopony will escape from us with their love unscathed. Not even the human. He will be ours to feed off of as well.” “We have also received word that the Elements of Harmony will arrive at Canterlot later today. Shall we keep watch of them, my queen?” “Yes, I want a pair of eyes fixed onto all six at any given moment, even when they’re fast asleep. I want nothing to go awry, as I have sacrificed far too much for the invasion to fail. Now go, larvae. Keep close contact with all of your kin. I believe my ‘future husband’ is in dire need of a visit from his wife.” “Long live Queen Chrysalis!”