//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Old Friends. // Story: Re-Looting // by Grazy Polomare //------------------------------// Once upon a time, there were three magical robbers. Well…not magical in the sense they were next-level mages. Think magical in the fact that not once in their career did they get caught. That...and they were pretty badass too, pardon the language.   There was Spotless. Boy was she a snake. Mischievous, sly, and a self-proclaimed smartypants, Spotless never left a...well...a spot. Despite her rather unfriendly nature, she was dependable, and down to earth loyal when it came to it. Then we had Alibi. If there was anything to be said about her, it was that she had a way with words. Although it was a shame she never put them to use more often. A shy one, Alibi was. Finally, we had Archer. Archer had a bit of a temper, and sometimes spoke her mind more often than she'd wished. But she was observant and one heck of a shot.   Together, they pillaged and looted every privileged snob in the kingdom. You’d think that make them heroes like Robin Hoof. But they had other plans to invest in with their treasure. I mean, charity was getting donations all the time anyway.   Then one day…all that changed.   Karma caught up, and boy was she pissed. By biting off more than they could chew, every law enforcement agency was chewing off their flanks.   There was no escape this time. No remedy to repair the hurricane of minotaur dung heading their way. And then, right when justice looked like it was going to be served on a silver platter, they vanished out of thin air. Nothing elaborate mind you. Rather, their names, aliases, and crimes just stopped...well...appearing on the papers. They went dark, and never came back.   To this day, the mystery behind these three devious thieves remains just that. A story that guards tell their rookies to keep them awake at night. Oh sure you have your conspiracy theories, local urban myths, and even reasonable explanations as to why the un-named group of bandits vanished. Some blame it on Discord, Celestia, a bad case of the flu, weird weather, dragons, a diamond dog deal gone wrong, Sombra, and even hidden changelings among us for the identities of said robbers. But the truth is, they were just your average ponies. And sometimes an average pony has to do what what every average pony has to do. Suck it up. Get a job. And get into routine.    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Silverspeed? Silver!”   “Huh?” I was too entranced by the oatmeal in front of me to notice Mother from across the table.   With those cat-like glasses and her prim, silver mane, she looked every bit like a wannabe executive. Which she was, by the way. Unlike her other elitist snot-bag friends, she actually did work to get her bits in. She had this dominating nature about her that supposedly humbled the mightiest of competitors to obey her will. Once, some tycoon from Griffionia sold her twelve silver mines on a one-mine deal after a dinner with her. And yet, staring into those stormy grey eyes, I honestly don't know what the fuss is about. To me, she looks more like an obnoxious pooch than some bloodthirsty wolf.   “You were dozing off again.” She stated the fact like it was some statistic affecting her family life. How many times could Silverspeed be half-asleep at the table? And that answer was dependent on how long I could tolerate her presence.   “Sorry.” I started to dig into my lukewarm breakfast, trying not to gag. It was like she was serving me paper mushed in with stale oats.   “Ahem.”   I made an involuntary groan. Honestly, the day hadn’t even started and she was in my mane. “Yes?”   Mother just gave me that look. That look that made you feel like you had done something wrong and you were too dumb to realize it yourself. “This is a table, not a stable, Silverspeed. Perhaps you should eat with more—what’s the word—dignity?”   Her eyes wandered off to the right, where my sister, Silver Spoon, was demonstrating the proper technique to sophisticated dining by spooning each tiny glob of oatmeal in her mouth. Sometimes, I wonder if she's some miniaturized clone or something. As if having one Mother was bad enough, I have to deal with two.   “You know, my technique helps me finish it faster. It’s a proven fact—“   “Not in this household.” Mother narrowed her eyes. “Eat like a lady or you can go outside and eat like a dog. Which way would you prefer, Silverspeed?”   The way that allowed me to shove this inedible piece of garbage down your throat. I grabbed the petite piece of silverware, nearly crushing it in the process. As I lifted the pitiful chunk of watered oats to my tongue, I wondered if I was tasting her cooking. Knowing Mother, however, she probably had the maid follow some stupid recipe she concocted last night. Mother had a tendency to do that. Nonetheless, I ate like a good little filly. For added effect, I even began to smack my lips. “So exquisite.”   Mother just nodded, as if I was some dog who’d finally accomplished an old trick. So much for complimenting the cook I guess.   After a minute or two of silence, Mother turned to Spoony, addressing her like she was part of the board. “Going with Diamond to school today?” “Yes Mother,” Silver Spoon chirped eagerly. “Would it be okay if I hung out with her for a while after class? Her daddy got us tickets to the spa.”   Boy, could I use a spa treatment. Maybe a good massage or two in the back for my wings. The twins would offer it too, but I had to make the most of my free time. I couldn't tell if Mother had ever tried a massage in her life. Could certainly use one, but I wasn't asking her to join me anytime soon. “Sounds lovely, darling, I’ll have Silverspeed pick you up afterwards.”   I dropped the spoon, which caused a loud clatter on the marble floor. “Actually Mom, I was going to go and practice by the range...” The sentence died in my mouth.   For a moment, it looked as if Mother was going to stand up and spank me. But I knew she was more refined than to resort to physical discipline. One of the perks of being brought up in a wealthy family is that they believe in capital punishment almost as much as they believe in charity.   “Really?” Her tone grew stern. “I figured you’d want to spend more quality time with your sister than have you toss those brutish arrows at hale bales.”   I gritted my teeth. She thinks that just because she's the one putting a roof over my head, that grants her the ability to walk all over my life. I may not be the perfect daughter, but she was far from being a tolerable parent. Sometimes, I wish I was with dad, then things wouldn't be this insane. But I wasn't with Dad. And right now, I'd be sleeping in a box if it wasn't for Mother.   So with a defeated sigh, I nodded. “What time do I pick her up?”  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------    “Mornin’, Silverspeed.” Derpy waved at me from the office door   “What a wonderous morning it is, my dear.” I bowed. Sometimes, when Mother pissed me off, I had a habit of showing off my more…cultured side.   Derpy was already in uniform, her navy blue cap snugged tightly over a hoof-woven beanie. Gosh, Dinky could sure knit. Might have to start asking her for wing warmers sooner or later.   “Anything new today?” I asked, grabbing my own blue cap from a locker that was otherwise empty save for the uniform.   Derpy’s ears flopped. “Didn't you hear? Post Haste might be...leaving.”   A lanky stallion fresh out of school, Post Haste joined the postal force a few months ago. He was pretty diligent when it came to letters I suppose. And his arrival made me feel like a veteran member instead of some washed-up newbie from the rich-class, so I never had much of a problem with him either. Honestly, having a co-worker who could show up and get his part of the shift done was good in my books. "Why in the hay would he do that?" "He was telling me he wanted to pursue his dream of raising bumblebees.” Bumblebees? I knew he wanted to be an independent business owner, but that just didn't seem to fit with me.   “Are we getting any replacements?” If Post Haste was missing, that meant more work for the rest of us. As it stood, our force stood at two right now. Ponyville may be a small town by most standards, but that didn't boost any confidence. Derpy could easily get lost if she was tired and right now, my social circle wasn't anything to brag about either. Mother made sure of that. “Don’t worry.” Derpy handed me a muffin. “I’m sure he’s just kidding.”     ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “It appears Post Haste will no longer be working with us.” Paper Trail sat back against the swivel chair, the prescription glasses hanging loosely over his snout.   It took several deep breaths to control myself from flipping the table.   Of all the Discord-forsaken days he could choose, it had to be today? Hearths Warming season had rolled in, and that meant an even more hectic workload than usual. At this point, I might as well take a dip in Froggy Bottom Bog. It'd be quicker and probably less painful. Unless the hydra swallowed me whole, but it would still beat a holiday rush.   Paper Trail just shook his head. “Quite a shame really, I recall Post Haste coming here to deliver me the paper…” he droned on and on to the point where I had to start daydreaming to keep myself awake.   Don’t get me wrong, he’s a kind old stallion who’d been handling Ponyville’s mail since Mother was just a filly. But have him talk business, and you could put an army of hyperactive diamond dogs to sleep.   “And now, we must discuss who pulls the straw for this one…” Trails reached below his desk, pulling out the cup. In the corner of my eye, Derpy’s left wing twitched. Celestia knows she probably drinks a whole pot to get through the day. Or at least, that’s how I see it. “Actually, I don’t mind taking it, Mr. Trails.”   Paper Trail gave me a quizzical stare. “The whole route?”   I shrugged. “I can manage.” That was a big fat lie but it wasn't like Trails was going to fight me on it.   He slowly slid the cup back inside his drawer. “Well uh…alright then. Thanks, Ms. Silverspeed.”   With a quick nod, I dashed out the office, grabbing both mailbags as I went. However, just before I could leave I felt a slight tap on the shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.” Typical of Derpy to try and talk me out of a bad decision. It was nice though. If anything, it proved that Derpy could be a better mother to me than my own. It also helped that she had two daughters to boot. And if you'd ever seen Dinky, you'd know she'd done a good job under the circumstances.   “Eh, it was nothing. Besides, I’m more familiar with his route.”   I suppose I could have at least come up with a better excuse. We both knew Derpy was the veteran of the group, next to old Trail back there. But we also both knew that it was Hearth’s Warming Eve. Dinky would want to go shopping, and while Sparkler may be able to take over, sometimes it's better to let your kid know you're still there for them rather than stay away for hours on end doing work.   I could care less if I came back dead tired. Derpy, however, needed all the energy she could muster if Dinky wanted to do another baking session. Believe me, that little unicorn could open up her own bake shop and have it run 24/7. I'd made the mistake of baking with her one time, and had paid for it in muffins. Lots...and lots of muffins.   The day started off smoothly, save for the occasional complaint or barking dog. Thankfully for me, I'd become a decent athlete, so the extra load wasn’t nearly as bothersome as it would have been for somepony of Derpy’s physique, no offense to her. Still, by the time I was halfway through the route, I could already feel my wings cramping. So I decided to stop by one of the houses, for a quick a breather. Walking never hurt anypony, right?   “Hey, Silverspeed!”   I looked up to see Carrot Top waving down at me from her balcony. Other than the few times we met in the market, I barely knew the mare. But apparently she knew my name. Well...I guess being related to one of the more famous ponies in this town helped, but still it was a little creepy. And Carrot Top just came across as one of those farmers you waved at but never really wanted to talk to unless you had an avid interest in irrigation, crop rotation, and the latest cross-breeds.   I mean, sure this was technically a tight-knit town. But honestly, the idea of having everypony know just about everything about you was well…disturbing. It was like having your social life posted on some billboard with your likes and dislikes on the side. Maybe this was why I didn't make many friends. Paranoia still followed me around wherever I went.   “Got your mail here, Carrot.” I held up a brown parcel.   “Oh, did Post Haste catch a case of the Flank Pox?” There was a hint of anxiety in her tone.   “Nah,” I waved my hoof. Carrot let out a sigh of relief. “He just left.”   Well, apparently that was worse than being ill as her face contorted to a look of pure horror. “WHAT?!”     I shrugged. “Yeah, turns out he’s pursuing his dream of becoming a bee farmer.”   “Well at least he’s doing what he loves.” Carrot dreamily stared into the town square. Did Post Haste forget to mention to me that she was harboring a crush? Not that it was any of my business.   “Honestly, his timing couldn’t have been any worse,” I replied nonchalantly, a second before I realized I was speaking my mind. Sometimes, when I wasn't monitoring my own words, I'd accidentally speak out my mind on accident. It wasn't bad, but...well...I guess it was kinda bad.   Carrot Top clutched her chest, giving me a pitiful look. “Well, Silverspeed, doing what you want to do is one of life’s best fulfillments. In the end, it doesn’t matter when it’ll happen. Didn’t you have a dream job?”   Yeah, sneaking into a heavily guarded bank vault and making out with twenty grand in gold. “I don’t know, I never give those kind of things much thought.”   Carrot sighed. “Well, I bet you’d make a fine Royal Guard.”   Seriously? I didn't have anything against the guys in armor, but there were too many formalities and when push came to shove, all that training never worked.  “I don’t know about that.”   “But your cutie mark is a bow and arrow? Surely the guard could use a pony of your talents!” A pony of my talents is the exact reason guards were invented in the first place.   “Honestly, Carrot, I’m fine working as a mailmare.”   “Surely, you must at least give it a try.”   Alright, this whole pursue-your-destiny crap was getting annoying. Clearing my throat rather loudly, I held up the stack of letters. “Your mail, Ms. Top? I’ve got a lot of routes to cover for Posty and not a whole lot of time to do it.”   “Oh, right.” Carrot Top was starting to look like a tomato top. Perhaps I should steer clear of nicknames until her crush on Posty was over. “My apologies. I ought to be checking on my plants anyway. I’ll have my roommate pick it up for me.”   I watched her head vanish behind the curtains. “Shoeshine! Can you get my mail?”   Shoeshine? Well that's a funny name, almost exactly like...wait a second?   The ruby red door swung open, revealing a sky blue mare with an ash-grey mane. Upon seeing me, she froze in mid gait, as if time had stopped. Meanwhile, Flashes of dark nights, piles of glimmering jewels, and outrageous bar fights filled my mind. No...it couldn't be.   “Sweet Celestia.” I muttered, my own eyes locked with hers.   For a moment, we were both just standing there, a porch’s distance away. It was like staring at an old ghost from the past. A ghost who had once been your friend before you stabbed them in the back and never made contact again. The kind of friend you didn’t want to see again for a million years after you were long dead and pushing daisies.   The kind of friend staring down at me right now.   “Hello there…Silverspeed.” She hissed my name with such venom it made me wince.   Snatching the stack of mail from my outstretched hoof, she reached into her saddlebags. “How much do I pay for services rendered?”   “Just a simple thank you will do.” I answered icily.   “Well then…thanks.” She flicked a bit into my mailbag. “I must say it’s quite a surprise to see you. Must be a Hearth’s Warming miracle.”   More like a message from Karma telling me she wasn’t done screwing with my life. “Always good to see an old friend.”   “Likewise.” She trudged off, slamming the door in her wake.   I wondered if Carrot was listening in on us. I wouldn’t suppose she’d assume much from our little conversation. Perhaps at the most just an old friendship that went sour.   And that in itself was an understatement. Shoeshine was my cohort in crime. At one point, I called her my best friend. Right now, I'm pretty sure we wanted to beat each other senseless.