Diprosopus

by WritingSpirit


A Stranger's Concern

"The murder is still undergoing a thorough investigation, so I'm prohibited to revealing any details to anypony, but I am certain that the Royal Guard will do anything to catch the culprit responsible for this."

Every string of breath was stretched taut and tense, all eyes from the courtyard staring soberly at Princess Celestia standing on the balcony underneath the sifting rays of sunlight stabbing through the clouds of gray on this noticeably grim morning, carefully scrolling through her words filling the small sheets of paper laid neatly on a singular, crystalline pedestal. There was nothing but the sight of cold sweat and rattling hooves stirring in the atmosphere, and each pony present would be lying if they said they weren't nervous about the killer hiding in the midst of the crowd.
Silence was the answer that met her and, though being expected, it was still slightly unnerving, in her sense. Without her sister by her side or at least even the company of her ministers, she wouldn't be surprised if she collapsed from the pressuring speech she was giving. No, she had the full support of not only Luna, but also from Twilight and Shining Armor as well.

Both her student and the captain of the Royal Guard were there, scanning down at the crowd for any crude standouts among each pony. The latter had even had a radio patched next to one of his ears, the near-silent crackles that came with any of the voices from its speakers guiding him through the whispering crowd. The grand entrance into the imperial courtyard was crawling with guards, forming an eagle-eye row as they trailed through the terrace and back to the main doors of the palace itself. Even the Lunar Stallions were placed on duty under the rule of of their own commander and, despite protesting quietly of their tired hooves, knew not to question their commanding officer after such a gruesome event.
The two draconic brothers were watching as well, standing like majestic colossal sentinels with reptilian eyes narrowed and fangs and claws poised to strike. They were almost identical in their movements, though Twilight had the eye to tell the difference: Jovern was more patient and watchful, scanning with utmost dedication as if he was actually a guard himself. Kane, however, despite Applejack's claims of him turning over a new leaf, still wore that grudging stare, his arms crossed in a crass fashion, yet still maintained the same virtue as his brother.

"And of the recent heist of the Canterlot Museum," she began, flinging the violet mare back into the transpiring events that had captivated the attention and insecurity of the town.
Second on the list was the robbery of the largest garnet in Equestria, leaving only a telltale rose that pinpointed them to the one possible culprit: the infamous Masque of Canterlot. They say he was a banshee in the night, darting from roof to roof to steal the greatest treasures that the town possessed. Some even claimed that he was not a pony, yet it sounded slightly incredulous as the claims that he was just a petty thief, she thought to herself. A pony that could pull off an incredible (not over-the-top incredible, however) heist like the one last night was no petty thief, in Twilight's opinion, and they wouldn't dare to taunt the patience of his brother and the guards serving under him by leaving scarlet roses at wherever he strikes.

"I can assure you that there is a slight possibility that the Masque might have ties with the ponies responsible for the murder," her teacher continued. Twilight could silently swear she saw the alicorn's mouth shiver at that point.
"Until then, you can place your trust in the Ministry and the Royal Guards, and we will make sure that none of you, any of you, would ever be in danger. Ever."

With that being said, the crowd gave a mediocre applause, lasting for only a mere second before came their hasty departure, slowly huddling out the gates with neither a smile nor a frown. Of course, the guards continued their survey through the leaving crowd, as if openly daring the killer to strike again.
Princess Celestia let out a relieved sigh, settling herself onto the marble floor and wiping a bead of cold sweat off her forehead.
"How did it go?" she asked her sister.

"Perfect," was Luna's answer, the cerulean alicorn giving her a soft smile.

Twilight wouldn't be surprised at Princess Celestia's perturbed condition. Who wouldn't be if the whole of Canterlot, not to mention Equestria itself, was counting on you to bring the pony responsible for a dark crime like this to justice? Even her brother was already worn out from his job, and with his eyelids sagging down almost all the time these days, it's a wonder if Cadance had never complained about his well being.
"Twilight," Princess Celestia's voice cut into her thoughts, the lavender unicorn heading to her teacher's side. Much to her surprise, the alicorn handed to her a small, golden key; one that Twilight would never thought she would have.

"This... this is..."

"Yes," came the alicorn's soft response. She herself had planned to give Twilight this, though it had only been now, with the encouragement and permission of her sister, that she did so.
"I'm fairly certain you're responsible enough to take care of the Canterlot Archives in the library, and thereby I have decided that I'm granting you access for research on Janus and to discover any hint of what he could be planning."

"However," she continued, her voice becoming terse, "there is a section, filled with scriptures of the ancients, of powerful magic, both dark and light. It is a room where not even Princess Luna has access to, and that is where your responsibility comes in."
Princess Celestia gently placed a hoof on her protege's shoulder, her face almost desirous as she asked: "can I trust that you will never enter the room, even if you were forced to do so?"

The stares that not only her, but also Princess Luna (which was more of a glare) were giving was enough to inform Twilight the graveness of her teacher's words. She turned to her brother, who could only give a weak, uncertain smile, followed by a slight shrug.
"Just remember that this is not only for bringing Janus to justice," Princess Celestia continued softly, "but for bringing Pinkie back as well. She's still alive somewhere, and we all know that she would be happy to be back."

Bringing back Pinkie... she and her friends have always waited for that day to happen, if it were to ever happen. Sometimes, Twilight herself would wake up, hoping to see their joyful, bubbly friend bouncing through the palace gates from her bedroom window. It had been a disappointment for the past few days now, but one day, she promised herself with utmost determination, it will come true.
One day, Pinkie Pie would come marching through those gates, and fulfill her hope, and if she ever needs her aid to do so, she will be ever ready to help, even if it lasts a lifetime.

Even if she wouldn't be alive to see it.

"I'll try my best."

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"Well, I'm glad you had gotten over it."

The refreshing sight of Stellar Lionheart's noble visage plucked at the tendons around her cheeks as Rarity smiled proudly, pouring herself another cup of an exceptional latte. She had woken a little late today to the sound of the princess's voice booming through the microphone, though her eyes were still on the verge of closing, forcing her to turn to the only drink she had lazily brewed. It was in the kitchen where she stumbled upon the former butler and his friend, and soon enough came their conversation, from how their daily lives were to the most recent, the discussion of Rarity's recovery from the macabre disease of Palladium's Brink.
Too much steamed milk, she scowled at herself once the drink swirled across her tongue, her hoof meeting her face at the slightly bland drink that she have concocted. Exceptional my hoof, the fashion designer grumbled underneath her breath.

Her frustration went unnoticed by Spike, who had just entered the dining room and was seated next to her and savoring her creation, and Stellar and Caduceus. The two old colts chuckled once the dragon suddenly scrunched his face up, turning to the now sheepish Rarity whilst raising his cup as he questioned with a dry cough:
"What did you put in this?"

The fashion designer just let out a faltering laugh with a shrug, prompting Spike to roll his eyes and settle his cup down, all the while trying to bear through the (literally) bittersweet taste stirring in his mouth. The remaining two ponies, however, had luckily, already prepared their own distinctive teas, with Stellar's one being chamomile and Caduceus's jasmine.
"So I've heard the both of you were heading back to Pendant Lakes," Rarity began.

"Along with Jovern, yes," Stellar replied.
"I take it that you know of our reasons behind the journey?"

Both mare and dragon nodded, though Caduceus suddenly pushed out a sigh.
"Seems Janus still has his murderous habits, even without Harmony."

Rarity couldn't agree more. She thought that without Harmony, mistakenly thought to be the mastermind behind the cryptic murders last year, Janus wouldn't be so as daring (and, in her personal opinion, careless) as to strike again after such a devastating explosion, but yet he somehow did.
"I heard it was a teenage mare of your kin that discovered the body?" the doctor asked, to which she hesitantly nodded. Speaking of which, there had not been any news from the filly lately, making Rarity wonder if she had gotten over the traumatic experience, or was still affected by it. On second thought, a doctor's intuition might tell her...

"How soon would you expect her to recover?" she asked.

"Judging by the state of the body," Caduceus began slowly, his face turning a slight green at the recollection of the decapitated corpse that he was in charge of extorting evidence from.
"It would take a while, depending on how her emotions are processed. She must be willing to let out her pain, connect to other ponies more frequently than usual, help each other out. She being a teenager, however, complicates the process a little. You need somepony who really understands her. Somepony who knows what she has been through."

Rarity began to ponder. That checks the whole group of her friends out except for Rainbow Dash, but she had her pregnancy to deal with. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle would then be next on the list, but even they don't know what Scootaloo had been through. It would be virtually impossible for her to recover!
"Has she been through any sort of traumatic experience before this?" the doctor spoke up suddenly.

"Well... there was one..."

Spike's voice grew silent before he continued. He wouldn't have any knowledge of it beforehand, his marefriend figured, seeing how he and Twilight moved to Ponyville only on the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration: a long time after the said incident stirring in both their heads.
"It was her mother," Rarity continued for him, piquing the grim attention of both colts immediately.
"There was some sort of freak accident. Only a few ponies were present, especially Scootaloo, and the details were left unclear. I'm not entirely sure what happened myself."

"It's okay," came, surprisingly, Stellar's voice.
"This filly - Scootaloo, you called her - faced something this devastating before this. What happened yesterday might've only brought those fears back, and I have concerns that your friend still might not be safe as a result."

"You mean..." the dragon stuttered.
The jaws of Rarity and Spike dropped instantaneously and simultaneously at the conclusive nod of both Stellar and Caduceus. It was almost too shocking to be true, the thought that was running in their heads which the fashion designer soon voiced out to clarify:

"You're saying that Janus wanted Scootaloo to find the body? As if it was placed there on purpose for her and only for her to find?"

"I believe so," Stellar replied gravely, sipping on his already cold tea as the couple exchanged worried glances.
"Every criminal has their own modus operandi, or mode of operation. In Janus's case, he scars and breaks ponies he want, then reels them into his influence with threats. Then, he would use them against their own friends and family, and slowly work out from there."

There was truth in his words, Rarity surmised, and it was a disturbing truth indeed. Janus did take advantage by using Harmony's envy for Pinkie against herself. Pinkie also mentioned that Janus was the one that killed her parents as well as burn her home down. Also, from what they learned during their encounter with the Oracle, Fluttershy was broken by him as well: Janus was mentioned as killing her father that tore her mother apart and, in turn, her. When Twilight and the group cautiously revealed it to the butter pegasus herself, who at that time wasn't aware of the stallion's involvement in her family tragedy, she nearly snapped, calming down only when Big Mac took her to their secret hiding spot again, to which Rarity found it a little cute.
"But why Scootaloo?" Spike's question halted her wandering thoughts.

"None of us are sure, actually. We would've been glad to know the answer as well."
With a cough, Caduceus handed to them, much to their surprise (once again), a yellow file, the top patched with a variety of paper clips and the white frames of photos peeking out meekly. A giant, diagonal word was stamped upon its surface, telling them slightly of the contents that are within.
"These are the results we've obtained from the body, along with information about the evidence we've collected," the doctor explained.
"I believe the Captain of Her Majesty's Royal Guard was waiting for this?"

Spike gave a firm nod, eagerly receiving the portfolio from the doctor, though there was one other thought running in his head right now.
"When are you guys leaving?"

"In the evening," came Stellar's answer.
"We'll take a stop at Fenderville, then head back out to where Pendant Lakes would be by the next dawn."

"Well," Rarity began, rising from her seat while the rest consecutively did so. Both groups gave each other brief hugs, smiling warmly after their conversation. In their opinion, it was too short for a reunion, but it was the will of fate, for each of them had many more things to do.
"I bid you good luck on your journey," she continued, clinging onto Spike's arms.

"And same to you too, Miss Rarity," Stellar answered mischievously, his voice turning to a small whisper before continuing:
"With Spike, I mean."

The white mare laughed at his comment, despite her dragon/boyfriend rolling his eyes at it, thought both shared the same smiles and waves of farewell as the two colts headed down the hallway, beaming back before disappearing around a corner, their happy chat echoing into the distance. There was nothing that could split the bonds of two best friends, she surmised, the living proof of those words being those two colts, already ripe with age.
"Sometimes," Spike began with mock disappointment, still shaking his head with a mischief-filled smirk at Stellar's previous joke, much to Rarity's annoyance, "I don't understand the humor of common ponies. We dragons seem to have better taste in comedy than ponies, it seems. Come to think of it, it must be the reason why you love me..."

"Oh, please."

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"Saw that, Velvet?"

The gray colt nodded sternly, gazing through the pair of golden binoculars that he had reluctantly agreed to use after Phoenix insisted him to do so to the point of whining and staring into the foot of the mountains standing in their way from the plateau they were standing upon. Parish, being the shepherd of the pilgrimages, had told them about the path they were taking: the long march across the Perylliel Steppe, stopping for a night on the plains itself and at the border of the steppe, where the Giant's Cairn stood, to where they were heading into right now: the Solsenaar Underpass, where it will take another day to travel to the other side.
"This is going to be a hard one," Velvet muttered, and by 'this' he meant the latter of contraband guards standing at the entrance into the mountain. Standing on two legs, their white-furred arms dangerous with protruding fingernails and their fangs equally horrendous, were mountain trolls. Their arachnid eyes glanced around in the blinding light, stopping only to let out a few distressful howls at each other, shattering into the solace of the afternoon. From the tales that some pilgrims recounted, none had ever been fond of trolls, and the scriptures said that the alicorn Terra condemned them to the mountains when she laid her eyes on the miserable beast, which was good enough a permission to murder them from afar, that is, if they weren't in such a big group; he counted about a dozen of them.

Beside him stood Phoenix and Parish, the latter worried at the probable threats standing in their path. It seemed to them that the shepherd had never met a pint of danger in all these times as the leader of the pilgrimage, at least, judging from the arrows they've made which the trolls would probably nibble on for breakfast, none as serious as this. Heck, this made the wolves they had tamed looked like mere fleas in a circus troupe.
"Isn't there any alternate way around the underpass?" Velvet asked.
"A secret shortcut or something?"

"There is one way. The path cutting through the Solsenaar Cliffs," his friend answered.
"But it's too risky and too steep. If we're talking about the caravan alone, then I'll consider, but we're talking about bringing hundreds, maybe even a thousand pilgrims here. Somepony might just fall off the cliff and none of us would even notice."

"Plus," Parish added, "us pilgrims are not used to scaling rocks. The path will also take a longer time: about two nights, three nights tops, and there wouldn't be a suitable spot to camp for the night up there. Our Holy Mother preferred the choice of the caves, for it is the path where she took to seek enlightenment."

"Well, there must be some way to chase them off," the gray pony said.
"We can't just go up to them, get them into some singalongs, hold hooves and perform some native dance ritual or something, right?"

"Go up to them... perhaps we can...!"

Phoenix's face lit up the moment the gears clicked in his head, stamping his hooves onto the ground with the attainment of an idea. He turned to his friend, who stopped with his face paling and his eyes widening once he saw his smug grin, stepping backwards clumsily at the slightest idea of it.
"No! No, no, no, no-!"

"Come on, Velvet~!" Phoenix pleaded, his tail strapping around at his friend's hooves before Velvet could take off, leaving him to taste the insipid blades of grass when his face met the ground. Parish just watched in utter bewilderment and amusement at the two friends, one reeling back the other with his red tail.
"You were the ultimate prankster and trap master in school. Remember the mustard-pie bomb you set for Blisterhoof after he dunked Ollie in the lavatory during lunch? Or that bubblegum-perfume bottle that you rigged for Miss Tickwitty during history class? Damn, you never got caught at all!"

"That's because I'm a bookworm back then as well. Teachers don't expect bookish ponies like me to cause any trouble; the sort like you and Ollie would get into," he grumbled, telling off his friend.
"Plus, I don't think a mountain troll would know about how humiliating my pranking abilities were back in fourth grade compared to my techniques now."

"That's the best part! They wouldn't know what's gonna hit them!"

"Seriously? Are you trying to degrade my efforts as the group's assassin? I could just sneak on them and slit their throats with ease, and you insist that I use my harmless pranks against them. We don't even have the proper materials to start one-"

"HEY!!"

All three stallions yelped in surprise, falling backwards onto the grass at the pink mare popping up from in between them, wearing the largest grin that they had ever seen anypony do. Phoenix rolled his eyes once he realized who it was, helping his friend and Parish up on their hooves as he raised an eyebrow at the bubbly grin before him.
"For Celestia's sake, Pinkie, don't jump on us like that," he said complacently, earning a giggle from the mare.
"Parish could've gotten a heart attack!"

"Whatcha guys doing?" she asked with stark innocence.

"Just fixing up a plan. Come to think of it..."
Phoenix suddenly plopped Pinkie to his friend's side, the pink mare perplexed at his behavior once he did so. Velvet's eyes widened immediately once he realized what the stallion was trying to do, though the gray pony did not have the chance to speak up for himself:
"Try to come up with a suitable trap to hold back the trolls. Once you're ready, I'll send them to whatever you guys have prepared by the latest, tomorrow. Capiche?"

"Phoenix, don't leave me here-!"
Velvet's hoof met his forehead, groaning at the sight of his friend and Parish leaving him with the mare. He sometimes wondered how can Phoenix be the pony who has to direct everything in accordance to his ways. He doesn't mind Pinkie's company, really he doesn't, but he finds it a little... unappealing to work with her in stuff such as this. Brutus would usually be the one helping him, but even he has his limits: the minotaur was still asleep despite it being afternoon, worn out from all the moving that he had done last night back in the campsite.

Reluctantly, he turned to Pinkie, whom he could've sworn was fizzing with anticipation. With a sigh, he headed down towards the cliff, gazing at the crude expanse of nature all around, and by crude, he meant all this stuff unfit for the preparation of a good trap. He preferred mechanical clockworks and tinkering over rocks, trees and grass, and to have none of the former all over the steppe... there wasn't a trap worth building with all these lackluster environmental stuff around.
"So... now what?" Pinkie asked, making Velvet sigh. If only he was a unicorn and could teleport himself out of this mess...

"We'll have to figure something out," he answered, more to himself than to her.
"Trolls are easily agitated, so they would grow into a rampage if one of them gets shot, which would be Phoenix's job. My job is to impede them from chasing us and letting the pilgrims into the underpass, which would be achievable with the perfect trap."

"So we just use their weakness against them, right?" she asked.
"Just ward them off with something they really hate the most?"

It was common sense; one that he sometimes think she wouldn't have possessed, but Velvet gave a firm nod.
"Now," he began, glancing around the steppe.
"Trolls are susceptible to fire, so we need some sort of trap that could produce a powerful flame. Maybe something that can restrain them long enough for the pilgrims to head into the underpass, like kerosene. Got that, Pinkie? Pinkie?"

She's gone again. Oh, for Celestia's sake, his mind groused. Phoenix is going to have his head if that silly filly got herself into any trouble. He's already having a problem thinking up of a trap underneath their sometimes demanding leader's watch, and the last thing he needs is a distraction like her.
"Pinkie?" he called out breathlessly, glancing about for any bouncing, pink shapes in the horizon. It shouldn't be hard to spot, seeing how she would never stand still and camouflage in the monotonous backdrop of swaying grass with patches of faint shadows from the moving clouds overhead, unless, of course, he was that blind.

Where is she, he asked himself, his hoof shielding his eyes from the glaring sunlight with his pupils squinting into the distance. Turning around, he could see the caravan doing their own things: Ganger and Dapple having yet another small argument, Ollivander and Selena flying in the air with a few other pegasi, Brutus snoring soundly on a log and Phoenix himself cleaning the barrel of his rifle, already getting ready for their plan.
The rest of the pilgrims were doing their hobbies, from kite flying to chess playing, the usual on the list and, sadly, none of them topped on Pinkie's to-do list, at least to his extent of knowledge.

The squeal of a balloon (?) caught his attention almost immediately, turning to see Pinkie hopping back through the meadow from a glade of trees. Velvet sighed with relief at the sight, though another closer observation revealed that she was gripping a small stick in between her teeth.
"Um... Pinkie?" he began, unable to understand whatever the reason was about the stick. It was maroon, the bent surface cracked with its skin peeling off, revealing a lighter shade of wood underneath. The pink mare that took it seemed nearly ecstatic when she discovered it, as she was hopping happily on the spot, unable to suppress her excitement.

"What's with the stick?"

"It's a superdy-duperdy-dupey-dooey stick!" she screeched.
"Lookity-lookity!! It's like...... a magic wand..."

Velvet just stared in confusion at her excitement, though he never got the chance to speak; Pinkie had already zoomed towards a group of rocks, holding the stick up like a sharp blade. If a stick gathering this much attention from ponies is the norm, he wasn't sure if he would fit into this strange culture. First, sticks can become potential unicorns. What would be next? Broccoli sandwiches are the pastel food of the year? His stomach grew sick at the thought of that; he never did like the taste of broccoli.
Whatever magic a puny stick could possess, he just hoped it would help out with devising the perfect trap. Sure, he was slightly worried that Phoenix might use his rifle for something else more than their troll problem, but if it's thanks to Pinkie's strange sense of humor, he sometimes wished he-

Wait. Wait, wait, wait, his mind chanted. There was no way...

That stick. That one, single stick he was ranting about. Just caught on fire. Just... boom. Literally! One minute Pinkie was standing there, admiring the stick like some raving fan, the next minute, she struck it against the rocks, and the tip suddenly burst into flames!
"Pinkie..." he gasped out.
"How... how did you even...?"

"Told you it's a magic stick! A stick that catches on fire!"

A stick that catches on fire... Velvet's breath was whisked away at the sight of it. but there was a seed in his head, sprouting as he strained his mind. A stick that catches on fire... why does that sound so familiar...?
"Mulciber wood!" he exclaimed in the light of revelation. Of course! One of the few woods that could burst into flames when struck like a match! He knew that dusty book titled Nature's Strange Assortments or something along the lines of that would prove to be of some use! And what a use this would be...

There it was: the layout of a perfect plan formulated from top to bottom, all because of a match stick (no pun intended whatsoever)! He chuckled at the pink mare who found it; if it weren't for her inexhaustible vault of curiosity, they wouldn't have achieved the perfection they were at right now!
"Maybe I was wrong," a part of him told himself. "Maybe she could prove useful to some things after all..."

"Come on, Pinkie," he called to her, to which Pinkie yipped happily in response, bouncing to his side. The perfect plan, done by two of the unlikeliest ponies ever to work together... pure, coincidental irony. Brutus would be so jealous at her, he snickered at himself.
"We got some sticks to collect." Velvet continued, his lips curling into a crafty grin at the feeling of his prankster's predatory instinct tingling from the back to his head.

"And I know just what to do with them..."

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Night time. Worst time ever.

Twilight Sparkle could feel the weights of fatigue pulling her eyelids down, her bloodshot eyes busy scrolling through the incriminating wall of text written upon a tattered book, taken from a stack that she had collected. The wick of a melting candle was short, threatening her to plunge into darkness and impeding her progress as a result.
The Royal Library was huge. Humongous, to say the least, compared to her own back in Ponyville. Before she met her friends, she served Princess Celestia in another portion of the library, where the observatory was also located. There had been many other sections left undiscovered, especially the one that only her mentor herself had access to, and everypony else forbidden to enter, with strict punishments prepared if needed.

The immensely thick books she was reading was never uninteresting to her, but at the core of the night, even the craving for sleep could make the grandest of archives look like a step-by-step guide for insomniacs. The scrawls of sentences are ridiculously small, and sometimes she wondered if the writers ever actually used the quill of an eagle, or its talons.
"...and in instances of war," she muttered a few sentences aloud, accompanied by a yawn, "the alliance forged between Equestria's other nations would sometimes prove to be of great help, such as during the Period of Anarchy, where Equestria became the central venue of a brutal conflict between its neighbors: the dragons and the griffins. It was only when the Featherscale Treaty was signed, under the watch of Celestia and Luna, that the war ended with..."

The sound of clattering steel stopped her in her reading, the violet mare glancing up in surprise at the foreign noise. She slid off from her chair, rubbing her eyes and squinting into the distance.
"Hello?" she called out, trying to see beyond the field of light that the candle could produce. She was certain there was something - or somepony - lurking in the shadows. Maybe it was one of her friends, though she doubted they would stay up this late watching over her.

"Maybe it's just my imagination," she muttered, giving herself a shrug and heading back to the text.
"The war ended with reconciliation between the two nations, though Equestria's death toll at the time was nightmarish. That period was where many scholars and philosophers written about the importance of international relations and, as a result, paved way for the foundations of communications-"

Another sound. This time it was the unmistakable lurching of a table.
"H-hello...?" she called out again. She knew it wasn't her imagination this time. There was somepony lurking in the darkness, she was sure of it. Her horn lighting up to raise the candle, she glanced into the darkness, her wave of courage sapping out with every step further into the darkness, ready to face whatever creature that lurks within.

"Ah... mademoiselle..."

Twilight gasped quietly at that voice, halting her in her tracks and nearly dropping the candle. She turned around twice, unsure whether to understand or fear of the cunningly stylish and slightly mysterious voice in the dark. Her only source of light started to flicker at some invisible current, though luckily for her, the flame never snuffed out. Yet.
"I see you have a zertain... deprivation," the voice continued. Despite the fact that he sounded slightly French (and it was a 'he', judging from the masculine voice) and that he possessed some sort of slick flair, the fears she was trying to hide started to ebb away, though uncertainty was quick to take its place.

"I'm just studying for the Princess," she answered back, trying to sound brave despite her quivering hooves.
"Helping her out in all the chaos, that kind of thing. I'm her student, Twili-"

"Twilight Sparkle, yes. Zey always talk about it, and zey said many s'ings about you. Element of Magic and all..."
Another shuffling sound echoed through the dark hallways, prompting her to turn to the twisting labyrinth of bookshelves. Twilight raised her candle towards it, narrowing her eyes into the obscurity of black before her.
"Z'peaking of chaos, I've heard rumors that you were acquainted wis zer filly who discovered the body?"

"Y-yeah," she began sheepishly, smoothing her frazzled mane. She figured everypony in Canterlot would know that Scootaloo was her so-called 'friend' from Ponyville, and never bothered to understand behind the scenes of her solemnity with the filly. So far, Scootaloo had never bothered to converse with her yet, only sticking to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle and, being the jackpot, Rainbow Dash, for striking up a small conversation.
"Wh-who are you exactly...you seemed a little concerned about her...?"

"Ah, but it iz I...!"

Stepping out from the shadows and into the dim candlelight was a caped pony, covered in garments of black with his wings (and probably the rest of his body, Twilight concluded) a bright scarlet. His mask was similar to the one Rarity created when they played as Mare-Do-Well, though this one looks more like one straight out from a Maredi Gras Festival. It glittered slightly despite the dim light, with only his mouth not covered by the antiquity of his mask.
Twilight's face paled distinctively once she realized who it was. This was a sort of Mare-Do-Well, alright; from his costume down to the very source of what she thought it might be his profession. The master of stealth with the quickest of hooves, some called him, though the whole of Canterlot and her bunch of friends knew him by a familiar, more catchier name:

The Masque Of Canterlot...

"Guards!" she screamed at the top of voice. Had it not been for the masked pony clamping her mouth shut at the last minute, he would've been caught!
Twilight squirmed and wriggled, finally freeing her mouth only when he released his firm grip onto it. She stepped back away quickly, holding the only thing she could find: a book, in a manner of self defense, waving it taut with intent when the shady figure stepped forward. "Stay back!" she demanded.

"Fear not, Miss Sparkle, for I am not here to hurt you."
The masked pony suddenly darted forward, turning into a blur before popping back at the same place again. It was only when Twilight realized what he had snatched away: the book that she was using against him, to which she quickly responded with a fearful gasp once he stepped closer and closer.
She cringed on the spot, cowering behind the seat with her eyes closed, preparing for whatever the inevitable consequences that fate has in store for her. Every muffled hoofstep only fueled to her dread, and when it finally stopped and the volcano of her trepidation was at the brink, she couldn't believe what her gift from this rebel was.

A scarlet rose.

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, unable to perceive what just happened. The Masque had a chance to rob her and carry out successful heists in the palace, but yet instead he gave her... a token of appreciation? A mark of gratitude? Whichever the case, the bookish mare preferred having a rose instead of being banished to the moon.
"Advice for handling the filly before I leave," he suddenly spoke, catching Twilight's attention immediately. Did he say filly? As in, Scootaloo herself? If only she could think straight from her sleep...
"Administer a bond between her. A connection that you and her would probably share."

Before Twilight could voice out her surprise at his visit, or her thankfulness at receiving the red rose, the pony soon jumped back into the darkness, the fog of black shielding him from her slightly hazy vision and leaving the lavender mare to just blink her eyes. Did that just happen, she asked herself. Was that just her mind playing tricks?
The scarlet rose was still in her hooves; being the uppermost proof that the visit wasn't an imagination. Despite her fatigue, she knew it was too vivid an event to be false, especially when it involves the second most wanted pony on the Canterlot valley. There would be nothing as shocking as that,.

Strange, she surmised, gazing back at the rose. Instead of stealing something, like she thought he would, he instead gave some advice, and might be a profitable advice considering that it was about handling teenagers. Without a moment ado, she continued her secret reading session, gazing back down at the walls of text before her, though her mind was so preoccupied with the fact of the Masque being such a Good Samareitan suddenly, that her hoof slipped clumsily onto the wick of the candle whilst she read the scriptures, dousing the flames and plunging her into the library's abyssal darkness.

"Oh, for Celestia's sake."