Flight of the Magpie

by DuncanR


Act 3: Clarity

Spectacles stared at the clear, glittering stone on display, resting on a satin pillow and sealed behind a glass case. She'd done her homework before visiting it in person: It was a whopping hundred and thirty six carats. The facets had been cut with remarkable precision for the time. It was clear and brilliant, with a hint of discoloration that was impossible to detect without special optic tools. Spectacles lifted her magnifying glass and drew closer.
"See anything interesting?"
Spectacles turned to the gallery custodian: an elegant filly wearing a sleek dress and a pair of bifocals. The antique glasses contrasted sharply against her youth.
Spectacles turned back to the display case. "Not really. I'm not an expert in precious stones. I know the basics, but nothing in-depth."
The gallery custodian perked a single, reserved eyebrow. "Haven't you spent your entire career chasing famous jewel thieves?"
"I only chase the thieves. And only one of them was ever famous."
"Odd that you should mention that... the Clopman itself was never particularly famous to begin with. It only gained notoriety after the Magpie pilfered it."
"The real Clopman diamond, you mean?"
"Mmm. Though to be honest, it hasn't negatively affected our patronage much at all." She nodded to the stone on display. "The counterfeit draws more of a crowd than the original ever did. There was even some dispute among the gallery's investors as to whether the counterfeit should be insured: The current owner, Mrs. Clopman's great-great-grandniece, finally acquiesced to their demands. If someone does manage to recover the original she hopes to set them both on display, side by side."
"Doesn't that seem a little absurd? Taking out an insurance policy for a fake?"
The custodian shrugged, utterly placid. "I don't see why it should be. It draws a crowd. It contributes to the gallery's income. Thus, it has some genuine value."
"But it's just a fake."
"Just?" The custodian turned to her, coolly. "Counterfeits can be of superior quality to the genuine article, if the craftspony wishes. Natural diamonds always suffer some degree of discoloration... usually brown or yellow. Artificial stones, on the other hoof, can be perfectly clear. They can possess superior fire and brilliance. They can be made in a variety of colors impossible to find in nature. Even their hardness exceeds that of the original's: a property that diamonds are renowned for. The engineering uses for synthetic diamond are only now being explored by the industry."
Spectacle sighed. "So you're saying a fake is better than the real thing?"
"Certainly not, miss. Natural diamonds are prized for their rarity. But it is a fallacy to think of 'betterness' as being an innate quality. It depends on whether you need to make a drill bit or an engagement ring. Far be it for us to pass judgement on what our patrons should wish to view."
Spectacles gazed at the stone, deep in thought.
The custodian walked away at a leisurely pace.  "The counterfeit does have one significant benefit over the original."
"Oh?"
"Yes. The diamond acquired by Mrs. Clopman came with a terrible curse. One that harried her to the end of her life and continued to afflict her offspring for several years hence."
Spectacles turned to her, dismayed. "A curse? What kind of curse?"
"Mister Clopman. Of course."
 


 
Spectacles took a carriage back to the police station. In only four days, the crowd out front had tripled in size. They had been passionate before, but now things had grown ugly. A barricade had been set up to keep the road clear, dividing the crowd in half. Each faction shouted at the other, waving signs and banners, and officers had been deployed to keep the crowd from turning into a riot. Spectacles' carriage was rolling down the middle of that divide, on route to the station... being in the middle of it all put a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach.
The carriage passed through the gates and into the station courtyard. Springsteel was waiting for her as she climbed out.
"Ponies don't need much of an excuse to protest, do they? Must be Canterlot's most violent pastime. After jousting and polo."
She shook her head. "They were content when the Magpie only stole from rich snobs... but the Princess? That crossed a hard line."
Springsteel followed her inside. "I suppose proving his guilt will be a snap, now."
She frowned at him. "It's fortunate a pony's guilt does not hinge on popular opinion."
"But you know he's guilty."
"Of course... but of what?" She nodded to the filly at the front desk. "I need to speak with the Chief Inspector."
The filly scrambled through a stack of paperwork. "You can go on in. He's expecting you, but there's been a..."
Spectacles nodded. "Won't be a minute."
She continued on, ignoring the desk officer's frantic waving. When they arrived at the Chief's office, there was already a unicorn with him: she was dressed in the immaculate uniform of a police pony and her long hair tied back in a ponytail. She was using her aura of sparkles to hold a beret by her side. The hat was specially tailored to admit a unicorn's horn. Their conversation halted when the door opened.
"Chief. You were expecting me?"
"Yes. Spectacles, this is..."
The mare straightened up and clacked her hoof on the floor. "Inspector Blue Flame."
Spectacles nodded. "I know who you are. If you don't mind, I need to speak with the chief in private."
Blue Flame fixed her with a cold look. "And I know who you are, citizen Spectacles."
The Chief cleared his throat. "I'll have you know this citizen was our finest inspector for seven years straight."
"It took her seven years to catch the only criminal she was specifically tasked with. And now that he's finally behind bars, she seems to have lost the nerve required to keep him there."
"I didn't resign out of protest. I resigned because I wanted to retire."
"And that is your decision. But somepony has to pick up the slack where you left off. And I intend to finish this."
"Finish what? The Magpie already faces a six year prison term!"
"Reduced from sixty years." Blue Flame stamped her foot. "He has been convicted of trespassing and impersonation, whereas his most serious crimes have all been pardoned. This is a mockery of the law, and I intend to see his original sentencing reinstated in full."
"Full...?" Spectacles said. "How... exactly... do you intend to countermand a royal pardon from the princess herself?"
"Mister Hearts'n'Arrows was only forgiven by the crown for the attempted heist at the palace. He has not yet been convicted of being the Magpie... a simple oversight that I intend to rectify within the week."
The Chief Inspector pointed at the straight-laced unicorn. "Inspector Flame has been reassigned to the Magpie case. After you resigned, we had no choice but to fill the position immediately."
Spectacles shook her head. "She can't do this."
Flame arched one eyebrow. "You think you're the only competent inspector?"
"I have no doubt in your abilities. But you can't understand the Magpie."
"I don't need to. This case requires a firm grasp of the facts. Nothing more."
Spectacles scrunched her eyes shut and poked the bridge of her nose. "This case is not as simple as you would like it to be."
"...How so?"
"The Magpie did not steal the crown jewels, and you can't prove he intended to. There is absolutely no motive."
"I do not need a motive!" she said and stamped her hoof. "The material evidence is overwhelming."
"We still have three days left to prove his innocence. I need to..."
"Innocence?! You were the one who accused him of conspiracy in the first place!"
"He should be considered innocent until proven guilty! The only reason anypony even considered the crown jewels was because I blurted it out during the arrest. I was the one who jumped to conclusions."
"You are a brilliant inspector. Were. But I never realized your resolve was so lacking." She tossed her mane and marched towards the door. "The arc of the moral universe is long indeed.... but it bends towards justice. And in three days time, Celestia's subjects will have their justice."
All three ponies flinched as she slammed the door.
"She got that out of a book, didn't she?"
The Chief Inspector's voice was tentative. "Inspector Flame's record of arrests is flawless."
"It's not her record I'm concerned about. She's too worried about the facts of the matter."
Springsteel blinked at her. "Aren't you always going on about the importance of facts?"
"There's a time and a place for everything. But this... this is different."
The Chief tidied up a few papers. "I'm sorry, Spectacles. Even if we did put you back into service, Blue Flame has already been assigned to the Magpie's case. We can't simply replace her. Not in three days, at least. And even if we hired you as a private contractor..."
"...I'd only end up taking orders from Blue Flame." Spectacles paused to consider. "I can still visit the prisoner, can't I?"
He nodded.
"Good. This may actually work out better."
 
 
 
Spectacles stepped into the evidence room, where half a dozen officers were interrogating the prisoner. The long tables were loaded with neatly arranged devices, each of them labelled with tags. The 'interrogation' was particularly lively... The Magpie was walking back and forth, cheerfully answering questions.
Springsteel leaned close and whispered to her. "We have the report on his spell casting abilities. Celestia's very own prize pupil came in as an expert witness, and performed the magical analysis herself... sorry you couldn't attend her presentation. Most of it was way over our heads anyway. She was so brilliant, she didn't make any sense at all."
"His magical powers don't concern me."
"Well, just in case..." He held out a sheaf of beautifully inlaid scrolls, covered with intricate writings and diagrams. "She made a dumbed-down summary for us. You can sneak a peek at my copy, if you like."
"Maybe later." She paused as an burst of air buffeted the room. One of the officers was wearing a vest that had inflated into a giant padded bubble: Her eyes widened as the inflatable cushion engulfed her completely. The other officers laughed while the Magpie explained how the vest could be deactivated.
Spectacles sighed. "He's back to his overly-casual self, I see. Who keeps giving him his wig back?"
"Well, we figured... you know. No need to be cruel."
Spectacles entered the evidence room. The Magpie froze as he caught sight of her. The officer's laughter died down a few seconds later.
He knelt down on one hoof, the very picture of courtesy. "Miss Spectacles."
She nodded. "Good afternoon, Hearts'n'Arrows."
He winced. "I'm still not used to that."
"heaign your real name, you mean? You might want to get used to it." She looked to the other officers. "Could you mares give us—"
There was a springing noise and a panicked squeal. When everypony turned to look, one of the officers was pinned to the wall by a spider web of elastic cables.
Another officer set down a large tube with a trigger grip. "Sorry."
"Could you mares give us a minute alone?"
The officers filed out. Springsteel was the last to go.
Hearts watched her, quietly. "Inspector?"
"It's just Miss Spectacles. The Chief is unable to return me to active service. At least, not quickly enough to make a difference. They've assigned somepony else to your case."
Hearts' eyes flicked back and forth. "Then why are you here?"
"I'm a visitor. I can visit, can't I?"
Hearts shrugged. "Certainly. What would you like to talk about?"
"I need to ask you a few questions. And this time, I do mean it: you need to tell me the truth."
"Ask away."
Spectacles nudged her glasses up. "Are you the Magpie?"
"I think that's already been proven."
"That's not an answer."
"But it doesn't matter what I say. My answer is irrelevant."
She clenched her jaw. "Are you the Magpie?"
He shrugged. "Are you the Lens?"
"The Lens is a nickname given to me by the press. I had nothing to do with it."
Hearts gave her a pointed look.
"Alright," she said, "point made. But were you responsible for the crimes attributed to the public figure known as the Magpie?"
"That handsome rapscallion? People attributed him with hundreds of crimes. Some of them were proven to be the work of other ponies, and others never happened at all. They were just stories."
"I mean the crimes attributed by the police! Did you commit those crimes?"
He shrugged. "Police officers are ponies. They are as fallible as anypony else. They are just as vulnerable to gossip and rumours. Certain kinds, at least."
"Did you intend to steal the crown jewels?"
Hearts'n'Arrows gave an exaggerated sigh. "Firstly: The jewels have not been stolen. Secondly: I did what I intended to do. Ergo, we can surmise that I did not intend to steal the Jewels. If I had, I assure you they would probably be stolen."
Spectacles opened her mouth to speak, but froze for a moment.
"...What did you say?"
"I did what I intended to do," he said as he casually examined a gadget on the table. "You never really stopped me. And if I am not answering your questions, it is because you are not asking the correct ones."
Spectacles took a breath and regained her composure. "Well, then... what is the right question?"
"I can't tell you," Hearts said. "Nopony can. That's the whole purpose of a question: It comes from within. You ask because you want an answer, and the harder you want it—the more time and effort you spend searching for it—the better the answer is when you get it."
Spectacles turned and left the room in a trance. Springsteel was waiting in the corridor just beyond, and fell in beside her.
"Did you get any answers out of him?"
"No. Nothing." Spectacles frowned. "He doesn't... have any answers."
"I find that hard to believe."
Spectacles stood quietly, mind racing. "Springsteel. I need a little favour from you."
"What kind of favour?"
 


 
The next day, Springsteel led a pair of ponies—a mare and a stallion, both elderly—into the interviewing room. "If you'll both have a seat, please. The inspector will be right with you."
The stallion adjusted his monocle. "I assure you, we'll do everything in our power to assist with the investigation."
"Appreciated, Mr. Cane."
"Am I to understand you have him here? In custody?"
"I'm sorry, I can't discuss that at this time."
The stallion frowned. "How soon can we visit him?"
"In due time, Mr. Cane. If you'll excuse me."
Springsteel left them alone and stood outside the door. A minute later, precisely on the clock, Blue Flame showed up with a clipboard.
"Are they ready?"
"Sorry, Ma'am. They haven't showed up yet."
She looked up, displeased. She obviously hadn't expected any answer other than 'yes.'
"They sent a note ahead that their flight was delayed slightly. They'll be here in fifteen minutes. No later."
"You would think they'd take this a little more seriously. Let me know the instant they arrive."
"Yes'm."
She marched off. Springsteel waited for her to go around a corner. He then knocked on the door of a nearby broom closet. "Fifteen minutes... no more."
 
 
 
Spectacles entered the interrogation room holding a cup of iced tea and a folded up newspaper. She glanced about the bare room, currently furnished with nothing but a table and a set of chairs. There were two elderly ponies seated there: A stallion and a mare.
"Mister Sugar Cane. Missus Candy Cane."
Mr. Cane nodded. "You're the inspector, then?"
"I am involved in the case, if that's what you mean." Spectacles sat across from them. "I imagine the announcement must have been quite a shock to you."
"Not nearly as much as you might think. He was always a shiftless colt. Lazy... no direction in life."
Spectacles arched an eyebrow. "Lazy?"
"I was beginning to think he would never amount to anything. But this... it doesn't surprise me in the slightest." The stallion slammed a hoof on the table. "I never once gave the colt a whipping. Maybe if I had, this never would have happened."
"I... doubt that. Ponies of his background rarely fall to crime out of mere desperation. I believe this was a conscious choice of his. A person doesn't acquire his level of ability without extreme dedication and focus."
The father stood up from his chair, furious. "Where is he, then? He'll beg for the safety of a prison cell before I get my hooves on him! That colt needs a little less sugar and a little more cane!"
The mare touched his arm, very gently. "Dear, please!"
 He slapped her hoof aside. "Don't you give me that clop-trap! This is entirely your fault! You've coddled him since he was a foal, and look what's finally become of it!"
Spectacles stood up. "Mister Cane, please. Be seated."
He did so, still fuming.
"Mister Cane... could you give me a moment to speak with your wife? Alone?"
"We took a six hour flight for this? Harrumph!" He stood and left the room.
Spectacles watched the mare. She returned the look for only a moment, then turned away.
Spectacles' voice was soft. "How long have you known?"
"Oh, a mother knows..." The elderly mare sniffled, her eyes glistening. "Please... don't be too harsh to him. I never knew it was this bad!"
"You never knew that your son was the Magpie. But you knew he was doing something."
She nodded. "I'm so... sorry... about...! I never meant for this to...!"
She broke into tears. Spectacles glanced at the clock, counting the seconds.
"Candy Cane. I believe your son is innocent."
"He... he is?"
"Perhaps that is an exaggeration. He's almost certainly responsible for over three hundred counts of grand larceny. But I believe he had no intention of stealing the crown jewels."
She sat upright. "How do you know?"
"Well... for one, the jewels are not missing. It is very possible that he could have stolen them, if he so desired. And yet the princess herself confirmed their security."
"What do you need me for? Is there anything at all I can do?"
"I know a great deal about the Magpie. Now, I need to know about your son."
Her tears trickled to an end. "He was always unfocused. Even as a foal, we could never get him to concentrate on anything. His schoolwork, his chores, his part time jobs... even his friends. But he was such a bright pony... always so well behaved!"
Spectacles nodded. "But he never applied himself to anything?"
"I suppose he never had to. Our family was very well off by the time he was born."
"I am aware of your family's history. Your husband-to-be inherited a parcel of land and a hereditary title from his parents, but he couldn't afford to cultivate that land. You, on teh other hoof, were a merchant's daughter... heiress to a successful chain of confectionary shops. The marriage was very profitable for both of you. Your financial support, combined with his land title, allowed you both to start a very profitable chain of candy and pastry shops."
"It wasn't just a business arrangement," said Mrs Cane. "I really do love him, you know. He's just... well, he can be a little strict sometimes."
"And you never told him about your son's activities?"
"Heavens, no. He would have been furious!"
"Don't you think it would have been best to tell somepony sooner rather than later? It was going to get out eventually."
Candy Cane looked away.
Spectacles cleared her throat and set the newspaper between them. The pages were old and yellowed. "Eight years ago, you gave your son ownership of a small sugar plantation. It was, at the time, on the outskirts of Equestria's civic border. Practically in the wild lands."
"It was his idea, actually..." She turned the paper around, gazing at the black and white photograph of her son and husband. They were shaking hooves, each with a smile. "It was the first time he'd ever shown interest in anything. And he was so good at it... his plantation is still one of our most profitable estates."
"But he was still... lazy."
"Yes, despite the excellent profits. I thought he might be involved in something shady—smuggling goods or laundering money, perhaps—but his father was too proud to notice. I looked into it a few times, but never found anything... but I never expected this. It just doesn't make any sense."
Spectacles paced back and forth. "You're right. He didn't need to smuggle or launder anything. None of the Magpie's thefts were ever sold or moved across borders. Not that we know of."
"You do the best you can... you know?"
Spectacles looked at her. Candy Cane was focused on the newspaper.
"You raise them up. You love them. You try to teach them. And then you have to let them go... let them fly out into the world. There's some things they just have to learn on their own."
"Ma'am—"
She looked up at Spectacles. "Did I do this? Is this all my fault?"
"Missus Cane, your son made his own decisions. You can't be held responsible for that."
"Have you spoken with the poor colt yet? He's never made a real decision in his whole life. We've always been there for him when he needed us... and now..."
The door opened. Blue Flame and Sugar Cane stood in the open archway, clearly displeased.
Spectacles nudged her glasses up "Goodness. Am I in the wrong room?"
 
 
 
Springsteel led Spectacles into a holding cell and locked the door behind her. Hearts watched from the facing cell, bemused.
Springsteel tugged the padlock. "Sorry, Specs. See you tomorrow."
They watched as the officer left. They were alone in the cell block.
"Spectacles? You've been arrested?"
She removed her jacket and hung it from the corner of the upper bunk bed. "A light warning, this time."
Hearts' left ear flipped up. "Whatever would cause such a promising young filly to debase herself with a criminal offence?"
"Not much. I went into the wrong room, and accidentally interfered with an interview. Big misunderstanding."
"Miss Spectacles. Impersonating an officer of the law... is wrong."
"I know, right? Big misunderstanding."
Spectacles sat on her cot and stared at the wall. Hearts watched her for awhile: she was frowning, and her eyes twitched every so often. She looked to him several times, but never actually said anything. After half an hour of this she began pacing back and forth in her cell.
"Spectacles...?" Hearts said.
"Some kind of... maybe... no, couldn't be..."
Hearts watched her mutter to herself.
"Spectacles."
"Stop distracting me," she snapped.
"What... exactly... are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing? If I can figure out your motives, I'll be one step closer to solving the case."
"I'm right here, you know. You could just ask me about it."
She glared at him. "Every time I do that, you refuse to answer my question directly."
"You know, I'm not doing it just to bother you. There's a very good reason for—"
Spectacles rolled her eyes with a sigh. "You refuse to answer my questions because you don't have an answer for me. There's something about this situation that even you don't understand and you want me to figure it out for you."
"Wow," he said. "You are good."
She glared at him. "Unfortunately, it's starting to look like you became the Magpie for no reason whatsoever, and now  you want me to come up with a convincing excuse."
"I had a reason."
"Then what? what was that reason? Why'd you do it?"
Hearts lay back on his cot, staring at the ceiling for some time. "Why'd you do it?" he said at last.
"Do what?"
"Why'd you spend all those years chasing after me?"
"Because you were breaking the law. Somepony had to stop you. It just happened to be me."
"But why you? Why not let somepony else stop me?"
"Because it's the law! I can't just sit and do nothing when I could be doing something! What other reason do I need?"
Hearts shrugged. "There are certainly other criminals. Why waste your time and talents on me?"
"Because... just because."
Hearts tilted his head, expectantly.
She spoke through clenched teeth. "Because I was the only one who could stop you."
"That's a load of garbage, and you know it. You started this case years ago—
"Seven years."
—And what were you like back then? Were you a brilliant detective? Were you a world-famous sleuth?"
"It's not about the fame! That's the very last thing I care about!"
Hearts tapped the side of his head. "Think. Seven years ago, you were nothing but an inexperienced novice. You never could have caught me."
"I think we both know exactly how far I've come since."
Hearts arched an eyebrow. "Yes. But I'm the only one of us who realizes how or why you came so far."
Spectacles stared at him with a mixture of anger and confusion.
He went on, casual. "You only became famous because you were chasing me. You followed my trail, studied my methods, and honed your skills for seven years. All because of me."
Her eye twitched. "Are you saying you created me?"
"You created yourself. Nopony can take that away from you." He arched an eyebrow. "But I was certainly a fine motivator, wasn't I?"
She slumped on her cot.
 
 
 
They spent the next hour in silence, napping on their respective cots. The more Spectacles thought about the puzzle at hand, the more restless she became. She finally stood up and began pacing.
Hearts watched her for a while.
"What were you like?"
"Hm?"
Hearts stood up and walked to the bars. "Seven years ago, I mean. All I know about you is what the newsies say. And they only report on your career."
She sighed, exasperated. "I was excited. Eager. I wanted to be helpful. To make Equestria a better place."
"How refreshingly... naive. Is that why you became a police officer?"
"That was the last thing on my mind at the time. As a foal, I was a royal page. And later, as a yearling, I was a squire to a knight."
Hearts' ears pricked up. "You're of the nobility?"
"Not even close. This was back when knights were starting to accept commoners as squires." She leaned back and thumped her head against the wall. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."
"So, you lived in the palace?"
"Yeah, with all the other pages. My parents visited me all the time, but I spent my whole childhood there. Hard work, no pay... but a fine education, and the opportunity to join the royal guard. Maybe even become a knight in my own right." She stared off, dreamily. "A knighthood... can you imagine?"
"An impressive goal, to be sure. But why didn't you keep after it?"
"My cutie mark." She stood up and presented him with a profile view. There on her flank were a pair of magnifying glasses, handles crossed. "I had a talent for deduction. Intuition. Logical thinking. And the royal guards didn't really need any of that. They would have let me stay on, if I really wanted, but they encouraged me to look elsewhere... they said I should find a better use of my talents."
"So you joined the police force instead."
"The police service. But yes... that about sums it up."
"Why?"
She frowned at him. "What do you mean, why? It's what I'm good at."
Hearts shrugged. "That doesn't mean you have to do it."
A metal clink interrupted her train of thought. Springsteel walked over and jingled a key ring. "Chief says you get out early for good behaviour. Just don't do it again."
Hearts stood up and set a hoof over his heart. "You have my utmost—"
"Nice try, doofus." Springsteel said with a smirk. He unlocked the door to Spectacle's cell. "But the chief is serious. This doesn't happen again."
"Yes... of course." She put her jacket on and watched Hearts. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get some fresh air. I'm expecting to meet with somepony."
 
 
 
Spectacles left through the station's side exit and walked down the road. She stopped at a tiny, old-fashioned storefront and purchased a small bottle of liquid soap. She continued down the street and came to a fancy restaurant.
A waiter came to her without delay. "Mademoiselle?"
"Table for two, please. I'm expecting to meet with somepony."
"Right this way."
"Could I have an outdoor table?"
"But of course."
The waiter led her upstairs and onto the open balcony. She sat down and laid some papers on the table. Within a minute, someone approached her table: A dashing stallion with a luxurious sky-blue coat. He wore a fine dress shirt, and his windswept mane glittered in the sun. A set of tennis rackets poked out of the back of his saddle bags. A number of fillies giggled as he passed.
"Ah! Hope I'm not late!" His resonant voice bore a cultured Canterlonian accent. "I should hate to keep such a lovely filly waiting alone."
"Just sit down, already. And drop the act."
He sat down, accent gone. "I actually know how to play tennis, if you can believe it. But in any case. You were expecting me, I assume?"
Spectacles stared into his eyes. She could see the slight, glistening edge of his coloured contact lenses.
"Hearts... please. Did you have a good reason?"
He straightened up. "Yes. It absolutely had to be done."
"You were... trying to prove something. Trying to point out a flaw in the security system?"
"Security is an illusion. Safety mechanisms can be improved. Countermeasures can be invented. But no system can ever be completely secure. It is simply the way of things."
Spectacles frowned. "Security is not an illusion. The police are living proof of this."
"Bah. The police are no different than firefighters and doctors. They can try to minimize the problem, and will mend it as best they can after something bad happens, but they can't really prevent crime. Sometimes they get lucky... but they can't depend on that."
Spectacles leaned forward, looking stern. "You can't just look at the police on an individual basis. By punishing criminals, they discourage others from doing the same. They work to improve society as a whole."
"Oh they do, do they? And what is society?" He clopped a hoof against the table. "Cultural mores are nothing but a popularity contest... they change all the time. A bunch of civilized ponies get together and decide what's right and what's wrong. Society's views of right and wrong are no different than their views of what makes for good art, or good cuisine."
"Alright, you can't... you can't just..." Spectacles leaned against the table. "There are two sides to this. The police have a responsibility to enforce the laws of the society it protects. Their duty is to maintain order... not improve it. That's the responsibility of the legislative branch of the legal system. They create and modify the laws that improve society. The police then enforce those laws."
Hearts leaned forward as well. "You can't force society to improve. It has to want to improve. You don't improve the world by becoming a lawyer or a police officer or a politician... those people are meant to be servants of the public. You need to inspire ponies! If you truly wanted to improve Equestria, you'd have been a teacher."
"A what?"
"A school teacher. That's where it all starts... a bunch of unique little foals, bright-eyed and eager to explore the world! It's an irrefutable statistic that as the quality of standardized education increases, criminal activity decreases. You want to stop ponies from becoming criminals in the first place? Become a teacher."
Spectacles sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "You hated your childhood!"
Hearts flinched at the sudden shift in topic. "What?!"
"The sugarcane plantation your parents gave you! You made a fortune off it when you were little, but you hated it! You only did it to make your parents happy and you were absolutely miserable the whole time!"
"Of all the...!" Hearts sputtered: an odd mannerism to see on a young adult. "I didn't do this for my parents! And certainly not for my father!"
"No-no-no, it makes perfect sense... you've spent your entire life haunted by a question you can't answer! Well this was what happened when you tried to ignore it. You tried to live an ordinary life, and everypony thought you were a grand success."
"I was a failure!!" Hearts shot up from his seat and slammed his front hooves against the table. "I tried to make something of myself... something good and proper and decent... and I was still an abysmal failure!"
Spectacles ignored the attention they'd garnered. "Please, sit down. We need to talk about this. We need to figure out why you went on to become Equestria's most famous jewel thief. You don't just fall into that sort of thing for no reason at all!"
"Haven't you figured it out by now?! I thought of all the ponies in the world, you'd be the first to get it!"
"Get what? There's no—"
Spectacles froze as a flash of insight seized her. Hearts'n'Arrows looked into her eyes, and flinched at what he saw. He rushed away from the table and into the restaurant.
"Hearts, wait! We can still...!"
She chased after him, but stopped at the door that separated the balcony from the interior. Her eyes searched the restaurant, scanning the patrons at each of the tables. There was no evidence of where he had gone or who he had become.
 
 
 
Spectacles paced back and forth in her cramped nd cluttered apartment.
"He's certain. He's absolutely certain he had a good reason for what he did. Which means he had a purpose. He went about it in the worst possible way, but it was the only thing he could think of."
Spectacles stopped pacing and glanced out the window. The panes of glass were stained with a greasy film of iridescent soap-scum.
"No... that isn't right. The Magpies' crimes weren't the result of sudden, overriding passion. They weren't driven by a sense of urgency. They were patient... methodical."
She resumed her pacing. "That's not right either. He's very passionate about certain things. And yet his individual crimes were methodical... which means he's passionate about his career as a whole."
She went to a wastebasket and dumped the contents of her pipe. "It's supposed to be the other way around. Crimes are spur of the moment. But how could a seven year burglary spree possibly be spur of the moment?"
She took out a bottle of soap, already half empty, and refilled her pipe.
"Alright. The palace. He said he'd already achieved his original goal. And yet, he hasn't once behaved as if he's accomplished anything. Which means that either his goals have changed, or the result wasn't as satisfying as he'd wished."
She puffed on her pipe and sent a stream of bubbles dancing through the air.
"His mother said he was unfocused as a child. Not unusual. Then, all of a sudden, he gained focus. He dedicated himself to something. Also a common occurrence, when someone first gains their cutie mark... but this would have been seven years ago. He would have already discovered his mark."
She lowered her pipe, resolute.
It's the only possible conclusion. Nothing else fits.
She snatched her coat and opened the door, nodding to the coat rack she'd been talking to.
"S'cuse me. I need to..." She paused to look back at the inanimate piece of furniture. "To... get out more. Probably."
 
 
 
Spectacles burst through the front doors of the police station and ran past the front office, through the main hall and past a crowd of busy officers.
"S'cuse me. I need to speak with the—"
"You!" Blue Flame shouted as she marched over. "Who let you in? This is government property!"
"I'm here to visit a prisoner. It's very urgent."
"You can wait till tomorrow's visiting hours, just like everypony else."
"He'll be in court tomorrow. I need to speak with him now! I only have one question for him, and the entire case hinges on it!"
"Miss Spectacles. The only way you're getting into that cell block is in chains."
Spectacles clenched her jaw. She reached up, slow and deliberate, and flicked Blue Flame's beret. The hat was specially fitted with a hole for a unicorn's horn: it spun around her horn several times and came to rest over the front of her face.
"Miss Spectacles." Blue Flame calmly turned her beret around, revealing a cold fury in her eyes. "This ludicrous attempt to goad me will accomplish nothing. Kindly leave the premises before I have you escorted out by force."
Spectacles stamped a hoof. "Hearts'n'Arrows is innocent! This precinct is about to send an innocent stallion to prison! I refuse to let that stand!"
"The law is very clear on the subject."
"The law is wrong!"
Blue Flame recoiled, eyes wide.
Spectacles took a breath, and continued. "The law is flexible. The law changes and adapts all the time. The purpose of the law is not to punish crimes, but to protect society! Imprisonment is merely one tool of many, and you've forgotten that!"
"If you believe the law is in error," she said, "I will be more than happy to examine your proof."
"It's not about proof! It's not about guilty or innocent... it's about right or wrong!"
"Sergeant. Escort miss Spectacles and her childishly naive sentiments off the premises."
Springsteel glanced between them. "Ma'am. Shouldn't we at least—"
"That is an order sergeant!"
Springsteel straightened up. "Yes ma'am!"
 
 
 
Springsteel led his old friend outside. "Sorry about this, Specs."
"It's not your fault," she said. "And you're not the only pony who isn't at fault."
"We're not going to go through this again, are we?"
"He's scared. I could see it in his eyes."
"He should be. Six years is a long time."
"Not that..." She removed her glasses and massaged her nose. "It's something else... something much bigger than just him. He did what he had to do. He felt he had no other choice."
"That's not exactly something we can prove."
"Spring, I think I know what's going on. I think I see it now. I just need one more piece of the puzzle... just one more answer. That's all I need."
"Look, Inspector Flame is already on a rampage. You've been pushing things to the limit! If you keep this up, you could be arrested for real."
Spectacles turned back, looking at the mark on her flank.
"They're unique, aren't they?"
"Completely. That's why we use them for identification."
"How do we get them?"
"What?"
"Why do they appear? Who decides?"
"Well... no-pony does. They just appear."
"But it's not random, is it? There's reason behind it... a sort of destiny."
"Whoa there, Nellie. That's way out of my league. There's nopony in Equestria who truly understands how they work."
Spectacles cast her gaze out over the rooftops of Canterlot, to the uppermost spires of the palace.
 
 
 
Sedate, classical music drifted through the air of one o upper-canterlot's finer gardens, situated behind the privately owned mansion of one of its wealthiest citizens. Ponies of all sorts, all dressed extravagantly, mingled about and discussed the higher points of fine culture. One pony in particular, a middle aged mare, walked amongst the partygoers as she led her most important guest about: the majestic Princess Celestia herself.
"...So then, I said: 'know her? Why, she's coming to my garden party this very afternoon!' I can tell you, the look on her face was absolutely priceless. And of course, she asked for an invite. By then, though, the invitations were already accounted for."
A small clique of ponies obediently chuckled at the anecdote. Princess Celestia managed a half-hearted smile, but said nothing.
The elegantly dressed mare nodded up at the Princess. "Oh, but we do so very much appreciate you coming all the way out here."
Celestia smiled as she spoke, with a voice like a chorus of silver bells. "It was my pleasure! Your daughter's rose gardens are by far the most beautiful I've seen this season. I simply couldn't pass up an opportunity to enjoy them in full bloom."
"Yes, yes... they're really quite superb, aren't they?"
"Do you think you could introduce me to her? I'm very curious about the methods she used to raise them, and I haven't seen her at the party yet."
"What? Oh, she isn't actually here. She's back at the country estate, rummaging about in her greenhouse. Nothing very exciting, I assure you. All very technical."
"Oh... I'm sorry to hear."
"Really, she doesn't much care for these sophisticated little events. Ah, but I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about dirtytools and potting soil!"
The princess looked away, a tad forlorn. "I suppose not."
"But enough of all that! How many fresh bouquets will the city need for its beautification effort? We sell them by the pound, you know. And I'm sure we can double our output for next year's—"
"Excuse me. Lady Fussbudget?"
The crowd's subservient chuckling abruptly ceased and everypony turned to the newcomer: a chestnut mare with a short, fiery red mane. She was dressed in a poorly fitted tuxedo with a rental tag still hanging off the collar.
"I... say." The hostess lowered her opera glasses. "Were you invited?"
"Sorry. I need to borrow your princess for just a moment... it's very important."
"Oh, I don't think so." The lady raised a hoof and shooed her. "Do please be on your way."
"Princess, please. An innocent pony faces a significant prison sentence."
The hostess opened her mouth to speak, but celestia raised a hoof and cut her off. "Lady Fussbudget. I did promise to meet with each of your guests at least once. I'm sure you can allow me to spare a few moments of time."
"Oh... well yes, of course. Your Royal Highness."
Celestia followed after Spectacles, quiet and reserved, and Spectacle's own knees were wobbly every step of the way. They came to a quiet and out of the way corner of the garden.
"Princess. I'm very very sorry for interrupting the party like this..."
Celestia smiled. "There's no need to apologize. This is an informal event, after all. I may socialize with whomever I choose."
"Yes. Well... I have a... question."
"Go on, then."
"Are there... bad ponies?"
Celestia's eyebrow lifted a few degrees. "Would you care to elaborate?"
"I think... somepony... might be..." She removed her glasses and wiped them against her shirt. "Or rather, it's possible... that..."
Spectacles stared up at the princess. Stared into those serene, royal purple eyes.
"Princess. Where do cutie marks come from?"
"They come from within," she said, "as all good things do."
"No, I mean..." Spectacles scrunched her eyes shut. "Do we make them appear? Is it something we do? Or is it something that happens to us?"
"My, yes!" she said with an encouraging smile. "Just so!"
"No, I mean... Argh!"
Celestia watched as Spectacles walked in little circles. She flopped on the ground, dejected.
"Sorry I wasted your time."
She flinched as Celestia nudged aside a lock of her unruly mane. "I don't mean to discourage you, but this is a weighty question indeed. A straightforward answer simply isn't possible. Such questions require a great deal of inner contemplation."
"But you could just tell me! You know everything about... everything! You probably know whether Hearts wanted to steal your jewels!"
Celestia smiled. "I would not have pardoned him otherwise."
Spectacles took a deep breath. "Do you know where cutie marks come from? I don't want to know...  I just want to know if you know."
Celestia's face turned solemn. "I do know the truth. This enlightenment is a part of what makes me a princess. A small part."
"But what if somepony... got... a bad cutie mark?"
"Miss Spectacles. If you learn one thing from our conversation, let it be this... there are no bad marks. Nor good marks. A mark is just a mark. What matters is what we choose do with it."
"But what about a mark that made somepony do bad things? Would it really be their fault?"
"That, my child, is an excellent question." Celestia turned away, her mane rippling in the ebb and flow of some invisible, cosmic wind. "I look forward to hearing your answer tomorrow."
 


 
The next day, a herd of ponies trotted into the grand courtroom in an orderly fashion. There were ponies of all ages, from all walks of life. The jury had been chosen with great care, in a reliably random fashion. Spectators waited patiently in the gallery section, and Celestia herself sat with these spectators while an elderly mare in a black gown ascended the central podium. The princess was the ultimate authority of Equestria, and she could veto any law—forgive any crime—but she left the creation and interpretation of most laws to her citizens. It was a gesture of faith and confidence: one that her subjects took very seriously.
 The judge clapped her wooden mallet against the gavel. The crowd settled down and the bailiff unfurled a scroll.
"The Honourable Judge Clink Scales presides, at the pleasure of her Excellency Princess Celestia. We are assembled here to determine the guilt or innocence of Mister Hearts'n'Arrows for the attempted crown jewel heist, committed on the evening of—"
"I object!"
The crowd gasped as Spectacles marched in from the front hall and approached the throne. The judge hammered the armrest until the murmuring died down.
The judge peered down at her. "Miss Spectacles, I assume. If you wish to object to the court proceedings, you will have to wait until after the reading of the accusations."
She paused. "...When is that?"
The bailiff shuffled his papers. "I was just about to start."
"Ah. Well... alright then."
The bailiff cleared his throat. "The accused, Mister Hearts'n'Arrows, now stands on trial to answer for the attempted crown jewel heist, committed on the evening of August sixteenth. If there are any objections to the—"
"I object!"
The crowd gasped, again. Another round of hammering brought the murmuring to an end. The bailiff sighed, and nodded to Spectacles.
"Yes, yes. On what grounds?"
"Well, because... ah..." Spectacles took a small booklet from her coat pocket and began flipping through it. "I object to the impending case on the grounds of Peremptory Plea of Autrefois Convict."
The Bailiff glanced at the judge, who shrugged. He turned back to Spectacles. "Are you saying that Mister Hearts'n'Arrows was previously convicted of this crime, and therefore cannot be tried for it a second time?"
Spectacles blinked at him for a moment. She shuffled through her notebook, glancing up now and then. "Sorry, your.... honour. It's in here... somewh... Ahh! Here we go." She cleared her throat. "I hereby object to the impending case on the grounds of Diminished Responsibility."
The Bailiff sighed. "You've never done this before, have you?"
Spectacles shuffled her hooves. "I figured now would be a very good time to start."
There was a smattering of laughter from the audience in the gallery, which the judge quelled with a look.
"Miss Spectacles. Diminished Responsibility is a defence... not an objection. You cannot suggest a defence for the accused unless you are the defending attorney."
Spectacles glanced about the room. "Who's the defending attorney?"
"Mister Hearts'n'Arrows has chosen to represent himself. Against the recommendation of the court."
"Could I...? Do you think...? For just a...?" Spectacles rushed over to where Hearts was sitting, completely alone at his table. "Hearts. Ask me to represent you in court. It's the only way."
He glared at her. "Have you actually passed the Canterlot bar? Have you even been in a courtroom before?"
"Never mind that. Hearts, please... I'm the only person in this hall who truly believes you to be innocent!"
Hearts' pale pink eyes glanced about the room.
Spectacles drew close. "I know you are innocent. Even if you don't think so."
He swallowed. "Your honour? Do you think it would be alright if Spectacles was my attorney?"
The judge waved, impatiently. "She is not a certified member of the Canterlot bar, and thus cannot accept payment for her services... but yes. She can represent you. Against the recommendation of the court, I must add."
"Thank you, your honour."
"Don't thank me," said the judge. "It's a terrible decision that will no doubt end in ruin and tears. But regardless... the defence may present it's case."
Spectacles stood up, with the booklet still in her hoof. "Your honour... I wish to present the defence of Diminished Responsibility."
"You do realize that this requires you to submit a guilty plea?"
"Yes. Because he is guilty."
There was a swell of murmuring from the jury.
Hearts straightened up in his chair. "Whose side are you on?!"
"Would you let me work, here?" She turned to the judge. "The legal defence of Diminished Responsibility states that, although the accused is guilty of the crimes presented, he should not be..." Spectacles squinted at a page in her booklet. "...The defendant should not be held criminally liable for his or her actions, due to an impairment in mental faculty."
"Miss Spectacles. That defence is normally reserved for crimes caused by an irresistible impulse. Usually a powerful, overriding emotion."
"Yes, I'm aware."
"The Magpie's crimes span a significant period of time. It is unlikely that the accused suffered from a sudden burst of emotional stress for seven consecutive years."
"That is true, your honour. But although the Magpie executed his crimes in a very logical and premeditated manner, the initial decision to become the Magpie was made during a period of extreme emotional stress."
"Hm... very well. You may proceed with your defence."
Spectacles blinked. "That was my defence... wasn't it?"
The Bailiff nodded to the stand. "Your defence is accepted, but the judge has not chosen to throw the case out of court. You will be required to uphold your defence with proof or argument."
"Right. Well. Allow me a moment to speak with my... ah... with Mister Hearts'n'Arrows."
Spectacles went to the defendant's table and sat beside him. She began flipping through her notebook. Hearts glowered at her all throughout.
"My gods. You never have been in a courtroom before, have you? I was just being sarcastic."
She looked up from her notebook. "If you have a better idea..."
"Look, we only have thirty seconds before the judge loses patience with us." Hearts grabbed her notebook and sketched a simple diagram on the inside of the cover. "Listen. This is a trial court, and I am the defendant on trial. In this case, the Judge is only the Finder of Law: The jury, as the Finders of Fact, must determine my guilt or innocence. The court's jurisdiction is original rather than appellate, which means this is the first time the case has been..."
 
 
 
Spectacles stood up and cleared her throat. "Right then. Your Honour. I would like to... that is, the defence would like to call Twilight Sparkle to the stand. As an expert witness. Please."
The judge nodded. The crowd watched as the light, greyish-purple unicorn entered the royal court from a side door and sat at the witness stand. The bailiff led her through the appropriate oaths, then waved for Spectacles to approach the stand.
"Miss Sparkle. Would you please describe your experience with the defendant?"
She nodded. "Certainly. The Canterlot Police Department sent me a letter, requesting my help with an investigation. They had recently caught The Magpie and needed somepony to study his magical capabilities. It's important to know what spells a unicorn can use, to prevent them from escaping."
"And how knowledgeable are you about..." Spectacles paused and turned around. Hearts was coughing and waving frantically. Spectacles turned to the judge. "Your honour. May I have a moment to confer with the defendant?"
"He's supposed to confer with you... but yes. Briefly."
Spectacles went to the table, whispered with hearts, then returned. "Your honour, I would like to have that statement overruled. There is no concrete evidence that the defendant, Mister Hearts'n'Arrows, is actually the Magpie."
"Overruled."
"Thanks. Now, Miss Twilight... how knowledgeable are you in the field of Pony Magic?"
Twilight answered with a slight blush. "I suppose I am the foremost authority on the topic. It's the subject of my current research project for the Princess."
"Could you describe the defendant's magical abilities?"
"Well, it's a relatively complex subject, but Hearts'n'Arrows' magical powers are parochial and habituated, without being completely formulaic. His thaumaturgical development is also unusually hermeneutic... for a Unicorn, at least."
"Ah... right. Well. Could you clarify? For the jury, I mean?"
"Of course. 'Parochial means 'narrow' or 'specific.' That means his spells relate to a particular activity: most often a job or a hobby. It's actually misleading to call it 'narrow,' since this usually results in a wider variety of spells."
"And what is Hearts'n'Arrows' theme?"
"It's... well, it's burglary."
There was a murmur from the jury. Spectacles continued. "So, could the defendant cast a spell to disguise himself?"
"Yes. He knows several such spells. But he can only use them for burglary... he couldn't use them to create a costume for a play, or a fancy outfit for a party."
"And how powerful are these spells?"
"That depends on the pony who uses it. If two ponies use the exact same spell, the results can be different. It depends on your spirit... your dedication."
"And in the defendant's case?"
Twilight Sparkle shrugged. "I couldn't tell you, because I don't know what he's like as a person. Parochial spells are closely linked to one's personality. My report only included technical details."
Spectacles nudged her glasses up. "...Linked to one's personality, you say?"
"Oh, yes. Unicorns can invent new spells through study and research, but it doesn't have to be so methodical. Pegasus and Earth Ponies have their own kind of subtle magic, and they don't do any research at all. They hone their magic through practice, and it takes a tremendous amount of personal inspiration and sacrifice. Mister Hearts'n'Arrows appears to have used that method to develop his spells."
"So... the more powerful your personal experiences are, the more easily you can develop new spells?"
"Essentially, yes."
"Could you tell us if the defendant is... as we speak... disguising himself with a spell?"
The prosecuting attorney stood up. "Objection, your honour! This is a courtroom. Not a forensics laboratory."
The judge nodded to her. "Sustained. Miss Twilight, you will not answer that question."
Twilight nodded, but Spectacles was already heading back to the defendant's table. "No further questions, your honour."
The prosecutor gave Spectacles a suspicious look, but approached the witness stand. "Miss Twilight. Would you say that the defendant's magical talents would be useful for... burglary?"
"Well, yes. That's what I said."
There was an awkward silence.
"No further... questions. Your honour." The attorney returned to her seat.
 
 
 
"Your Honour. The defence would like to call Spring Fresh to the witness stand."
The judge nodded. The crowd watched as a light green unicorn with a rich viridian mane entered the royal court from a side door and sat at the witness stand. The bailiff led her through the appropriate oaths, then waved for Spectacles to approach the stand.
"Miss Fresh. Would you please describe your experience with the defendant?"
The mare frowned at the defendant. Her voice was cool. "I was assigned to Mister Hearts'n'Arrows as a caseworker. I met with him shortly after his arrest and discussed possible opportunities for employment."
"So it was your intention to rehabilitate the defendant?"
"I must stress that I am not a professional therapist or psychologist. I was only attempting to discuss how he might be reintegrated into society... how he could employ his talents for legal purposes. I gave him some brochures."
"How did he respond?"
"He was... most cooperative." Spring Fresh scowled. "At first."
"Can you explain?"
"I suspect he was trying to mislead me. I also suspect that he had no intention of finding a respectable job."
"Do you know why he felt this way?"
"I have no idea. I haven't interviewed him in any great detail." She pouted. "The brochures usually work."
"Do you have any experience with other criminals?"
"Oh, yes. I've helped many ponies achieve a better station in life. Although, none of their criminal activities were quite so... extensive."
"I see. Miss Fresh... if you had to guess, what possible reasons could Hearts have had for becoming a jewel thief?"
"Well, the money. Firstly."
"Are you aware that Mister Hearts'n'Arrows is the owner and proprietor of a very successful sugar cane plantation? A significant source of legitimate income?"
"No. I did not."
"If we ignore the profit motive, what other reasons might he have had for becoming a jewel thief?"
"Well... none that I can think of. Perhaps there was some emotional pressure from his peers. His friends or family. But that's rather unlikely."
"How much do you know about social pressure?"
"It's a very important concern for me. I have several degrees in social sciences, and I study their interaction with the field of economics."
"I would like to ask you a hypothetical question. When you're looking for a job, a really good one, what's the most important thing of all?"
She smiled. "You need to love your job! If you're truly passionate about what you do, you'll jump out of bed every morning full of energy!"
"Is there any social pressure regarding this idea?"
"Oh, yes. Ponies should always be encouraged to do what they love. To follow their dreams, and achieve their goals. Everypony has a certain special something that makes them unique. Pursue it with your every breath, and you can accomplish anything!"
"Anything?"
Spring Fresh smiled. "Oh, yes!"
"Such as stealing the Crown Jewels of Princess Celestia?"
Her smile vanished abruptly. "...Wha?"
"In your opinion, did the Magpie love his job?"
"Well... I don't... really... know him."
"Miss Fresh, you are a rehabilitation councillor. You know when a pony is dedicated to their work. Was the Magpie dedicated to his work, wholeheartedly and without hesitation?"
"Well... I suppose..." She looked at the defendant. "Yes. Yes he was. The things he accomplished were incredible, and surely the result of a rare and unique talent."
"I see. Now... is there a social pressure for ponies to obey the law?"
"Certainly. It's everypony's duty."
"What would happen if these two pressures came into conflict? What if a pony found they had a natural, inborn talent for a criminal activity? How would it affect them?"
Spring Fresh looked horrified. "It would be an emotional catastrophe! The victim would become isolated... paranoid. But that would never... I mean, it couldn't really... this is just a hypothetical question, isn't it?"
Spectacles nodded to the judge. "No further questions, your honour."
The prosecuting attorney stood up. "No questions. Your honour." She sat down, disappointed.
 
 
 
"Your Honour. The defence calls Mister Hearts'n'Arrows to the stand."
The judge nodded. The crowd watched as the pale white unicorn stepped from behind the defendant's table and sat at the witness stand. The bailiff led him through the appropriate oaths, then waved for Spectacles to approach the stand.
"Mister Hearts'n'Arrows. You are the owner and manager of a sugar cane plantation, are you not? A financially successful one?"
"That is correct."
"But that wasn't enough for you, was it?"
He shook his head once, briskly. "It was never about the money."
"What about the fame? Is that why you decided to pursue a career as a famous jewel thief?"
Hearts frowned. "It was never about the fame, either. I could care less what people think of me."
"So you don't care if people think you're a criminal? A criminal and bad pony?"
"That's different!"
"Mister Arrows, you had a perfectly successful... and perfectly respectable job. Could you explain to myself and the jury why anypony would throw that away?"
The prosecuting attorney stood up. "Objection your honour! Argumentative!"
The judge gave a bemused shrug. "She's badgering her own witness."
Spectacles glared at Hearts. "Answer the question. Why did you quit your job?"
"I didn't need a reason, did I? People quit their jobs all the time."
"Except that your job was an extremely desirable one. Excellent pay, no hard work, very respectable. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and yet you threw it all away to become a hardened criminal. That's an impressive judgment call."
Hearts spoke through clenched teeth. "I wasn't happy. Alright?"
"And you thought you'd be happier stealing? That seems awfully selfish of you."
Hearts shot to his feet. "I was miserable, okay?! I tried to make everypony happy! I spent an entire year trying to... to change..."
Hearts sat back down with a sniffle, eyes scrunched tight.
"I only have one more question, your honour. Mister Hearts'n'Arrows... would you show the jury your cutie mark? Your real cutie mark?"
There was another murmur. Hearts glanced at the judge, then at the jury. He stood up, and a ripple of magical light passed over him. His cutie mark, once the outline of a bird in flight, was now a diamond with a pair of wings.
"Hearts. Do you know what your cutie mark represents? That unique talent that makes you special?"
"I... was a... jewel thief."
"Could you elaborate?"
Hearts took a breath. "That's it. That's all there is to it. I was born to do this. Some ponies cook. Others sing. I... steal."
"You spent a year managing your estate... trying to lead a normal life. How did you feel about this, at the time?"
"How do you think I felt? I was miserable! I was the only pony I'd ever heard of that turned his back on his calling! That... that tried to... change his mark. Ponies always say you should be proud of yourself. That you should believe in yourself. That you should follow your cutie mark no matter where it leads you. I tried to change who I was, and it worked. It worked for everypony in the world. Except... except for..."
Spectacles watched as the stallion collapsed in his chair, tearful. There was a choking sob from the audience gallery as Miss Cane clutched her husband's shoulder. Mister Cane was still and silent, even as he consoled her.
"Your honour," Spectacles said, "as Miss Sparkle explained, the invention of new spells requires great personal sacrifice and inspiration. Mister Arrows spent a year of his life lying to his friends and family. Lying to himself. It can come as no great surprise that he, without any formal training or professional assistance, developed an arsenal of magical illusions and technological countermeasures designed to deceive others. It also explains his natural talent for disguises and impersonations, and his ability to assume the persona of any pony he meets."
She turned to Hearts'n'Arrows. "There is a saying: when you follow your cutie mark with your heart and your mind, nothing is impossible. And you had to know for sure. You had to attempt the impossible. You weren't trying to make a point or prove your skills: You just needed to know the truth for yourself. You figured that if you could steal the crown jewels, there was nothing you couldn't steal. You'd have done the impossible. And you'd finally know, once and for all, whether or not it was your destiny."
Hearts remained silent.
Spectacles turned to the judge. "Your honour. Hearts'n'Arrows is the first pony in recorded history to possess a criminal cutie mark. He believed that he was destined not for fame, but for infamy. He felt that the only way to be sure was to pursue this calling and see it through to the very end. In spite of all his fears, he couldn't give it anything less than his most sincere effort... because a cutie mark demands nothing less from us all."
She turned to the jury. "This leaves us with a dilemma. We must decide if the law is willing to punish a pony not for what he did, or for what he wanted, but because of what he is. He was terrified that if he turned himself in he would be arrested for something completely beyond his control. No different that being arrested because of his gender, his race, or even the color of his mane. He had to know the truth. He may have gone about it in the worst possible way... but he believed he had no other choice."
Spectacles watched the jury for a moment before walking back to the table.
"The defence rests."
 
 
 
"Has the jury reached a verdict?"
"Yes your honour." The hall fell silent as one of the jurors stood. "For the crime of conspiracy to steal the crown jewels of Equestria, we find the defendant innocent. His arrest for this crime is to be purged from his criminal record, and the royal pardon is deemed unnecessary. For the crimes of trespassing on private property, impersonating an agent of the crown or a member of the nobility, providing dishonest information to the royal licence and registration department, we find the defendant guilty. Because of the..."
The audience exploded in a conflicting wave of shouts. It was impossible to tell how many of them were applauding, and how many were protesting.
The judge clapped her mallet several times. "The jury will continue with the verdict."
The juror nodded. "Because of the extreme emotional duress the defendant was subjected to, the jury fully supports the claim of diminished responsibility. We hereby sentence Mister Hearts'n'Arrows to seven hundred and twenty hours of community service, and forty eight hours of emotional therapy."
"Upheld." The judge banged her mallet one final time.
 
 
 
"Not bad for your first day in court."
Spectacles turned to Hearts as he approached. His casual smile belied the tremble in his knees.
"You were found guilty, you know."
"Innocence, in the original definition, refers to purity of intent. It is more than mere blamelessness. In any case, the Princess had a few quick words with me... said she had some ideas for how I might work off my community service."
Spectacles looked back, catching a brief glimpse of a flowing, pastel mane moving through the crowded hall. "All throughout, she didn't say a thing. Do you think she knew the truth all along?"
Hearts shrugged. "I like to think so."
"Then why didn't she speak out? She could have ended this whole thing with a wave and a word."
"Maybe she knew you'd be up to the task."
Spectacles nudged her glasses up. "Are you kidding? Even I wasn't sure of that."
"I imagine that's why she's the princess," he said with a smile. "It's more than just having wings and a horn." He nodded back to the throne room. "You know, she's right over there. You could go and ask her."
"And be seen questioning her in public? I don't think so. Besides... you could have asked her about your cutie mark years ago. You could have asked her whether or not you were destined to become a criminal."
"I thought about that, but... I was worried she might say yes. I think if I'd heard it from her, I would have... I don't know what I would have done. Can you imagine what it would feel like?"
"That is pretty frightening." She furrowed her brow. "So. Why did you break into the palace?"
Hearts rolled his eyes, as if distracted.
Spectacles pursed her lips like a displeased parent. "Could you really have stolen the crown jewels if you wanted to?"
"Hypothetically? Probably, yes. But as I said, we'll never know for sure."
"But you never actually explained what you were doing in the inner palace."
"Mm-hm. I noticed you never asked me that while I was under oath."
"I came close," she said, "but it would have been self serving of me."
Hearts smirked. "A filly never asks, and a gentle-colt never tells."
"Yeah. Sure. So what were you doing in the palace?"
Hearts gazed off into the distance, at nothing in particular. A faint smile grew on his face, barely noticeable at first.
"Spectacles... I might be able to help you recover the Magpie's stolen goods."
She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Well I should hope so. You were the one who stole them in the first place."
"Ut-ut-ut! I never said I stole anything. Merely that I might have a few hints about where they are."
Spectacles shoved his shoulder. His resonant laugh carried through the royal hall. Spectacles merely smirked.
 
 
 
"I must say, that was rather more refreshing than I'd expected."
Celestia smiled. "I'm glad you approve. And I'm very relieved that it went as well as it did. She's a clever pony."
"Undoubtedly," her companion said, with a smirk, "but Equestria has no shortage of clever ponies."
"Yes, but they usually allow the facts to rule them. It was good to see a heart and mind working in symphony. Always a thing of beauty."
"Appreciated. But there's one thing I don't understand."
"Hmm?"
"Celestia... you're the wisest pony in Equestria. You could have settled the entire dispute with a wave and a word."
Celestia raised her head, solemnly. "I cannot make this decision for them."
"Oh, don't be coy with me. You knew the answer from the very beginning."
"No, truly!" Celestia shook her head. "The answer was irrelevant. It was the decision that mattered, and the courage to make it. The worst possible outcome would have been  no decision at all... if they'd relied upon me to make their decisions for them."
"Isn't that what royal fiat is for? Hurling down inviolable laws?"
"There are plenty of decisions my little ponies are not yet prepared to face, and I am happy to settle such disputes myself... for now. But every once in awhile, I like to give them a little something new to think about. Civilization is slow to accept change."
She peered up at her. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you? This whole social engineering experiment."
"I work for the betterment of all ponies. But if I always define the meaning of right and wrong for them, I deprive them of the chance to grow in spirit. They must decide for themselves."
"Then what are you willing to do? Where do you lay the line?"
"I do what any good leader does. I raise them up. I love them. I try to teach them. And then..." Celestia lifted her head with a smile. "I let them fly."
She blew a delicate, ladylike raspberry at her. They both laughed.
"I'm glad everything resolved. But why are we here?"
Celestia nodded, just as they arrived at a massive vault door. There was no handle. No keyhole. No combination entry. Only a smooth, metal slab. Celestia's horn glowed a deep emerald green, and a mechanical sound came from within the metal... the twisting gears and clicking switches of a sealed mechanism. The door opened, revealing a barren, unfurnished metal room filled with rows and columns of small podiums.
"Yes, alright. Very pretty. But why..." The guest fell quiet as she entered the hall and walked amongst the collection of Celestia's Crown Jewels. In each sealed case rested a unique piece of magnificent golden jewellery. She peered closer, bemused. Nothing had been taken. Nothing had been added. Every single item was lovingly arranged in it's holding stand. Upside-down.
She looked back with a bemused frown.
Celestia smiled. "I told you he had a sense of humour."
"It's an impressive piece of work, certainly. But what does this have to do with me?"
"I know you've been thinking about taking on a royal agent. A spy, if you will. And he does owe the crown a considerable amount of community service..."
"I do not require a spy. Things aren't quite so desperate as that. Not yet, at least." Princess Luna turned back to her sister with a mischievous smirk. "But I do like his resume."