//------------------------------// // Part 4 // Story: Cognitive Dissonance // by HolyJunkie //------------------------------// COGNITIVE DISSONANCE PART 4 Rarity's generously-given golden suit jacket fit nicely- if only a bit loose. Kurt preferred it loose, anyway. It didn't impede on his flexibility. If anything, he needed the flexibility if he was to sneak through Canterlot without being spotted. The mail carriage bumped upon entering some turbulence. It was a good hour or so before arrival at Canterlot. As Kurt sat between some secured crates, he thought about the night before, when he said "hi" to Twilight Sparkle. However, it seemed more like a greeting to her and the two other ponies with her. An orange mare wearing a hat and... hey wait a minute. Wasn't she that one breezy-looking one who was the first to see Kurt? The yellow and pink one was looking at Kurt through locks of her mane. Apparently she was still mentally scarred from first seeing Kurt. She didn't speak... ever... It was something Kurt couldn't blame, even if it had been nearly two weeks. "Howdy," piped the orange one. "You're the one who helped the DJ, huh?" Kurt acknowledged and answered. He was rather thankful that nopony was referring to him as "That Manticore Survivor" anymore. The conversation boiled down to how great the punch was, to how great the party was, to something regarding a jerk griffon. Kurt's eyes darted back and forth, not sure what to say regarding the griffon. "You weren't here before," Twilight said to Kurt, "Did you see an angry griffon causing trouble?" Kurt slowly nodded, then shook his head. At least now she wasn't causing trouble anytime soon. "She got hurt. Probably out of anger, anyway." The two ponies visually expressed concern. It seemed odd to Kurt, considering they described the griffon as a hot-blooded jerk. He managed to shake the hooves of the orange one and Twilight Sparkle. That was one goal down. The mentally-scarred one seemed to hide behind the other two. Kurt almost was afraid that she would speak out about how maniacal the ex-guard must have looked upon exiting the Everfree Forest. Kurt helped himself to one or two treats - both delicious - before leaving early for the Bed & Breakfast. The next day, the ex-guard dropped off the book, which he still hadn't finished yet. He then got his suit and arrived at Rarity's. The rest, as they say, is history. Now, Kurt donned his suit, had a touch-up on his makeover, carried the crates to the post office, and was sitting and waiting in the carriage. Suddenly, he realised that he had forgotten something: his cutie mark. He had no way to cover it up. Would the Guard notice? He figured they wouldn't. The uniform did cover the flank rather nicely, and Kurt didn't know of anypony who would've paid much attention to his cutie mark... aside from his mentor Sergeant Baton, and whoever's in charge of unit data. Actually, every other guard would be on the lookout, and would therefore know Kurt's cutie mark. Of all the things to forget, the fighting horse had to forget to disguise his own cutie mark. What a way to start off a plan to get in and out of Canterlot: a screw-up, and no way to fix it except to rely solely on luck. Until his scars fully recovered, Kurt would need to rely on nopony really caring to notice. Eventually, the carriage set down in the postal hangar in Canterlot. Kurt took this opportunity to ready himself to push crates. The back doors opened, and Derpy and another pegasus entered. Kurt pushed the rather heavy wooden box down to the hangar floor. Together, the three ponies emptied the carriage of all the items sent for Canterlot incredibly quickly. After waving goodbye, the mail carriage soared toward Manehattan- the next stop. Kurt took a look at the boxes left on the hangar floor for actual workers to take care of, then left discreetly. No guards on either side of the immediate street. That was excellent, Kurt figured. He was easily three blocks away from his home. Kurt took back roads and shortcuts on the way- cutting the time into thirds. Still no guards. Kurt stood outside the back door to the spire that was his home. Even in Canterlot, doors were rarely locked. Kurt entered silently without any problems. No one was home, as Kurt expected. Mum and dad were rarely home, and they certainly wouldn't be here when their prized son and Kurt were missing. Kurt wondered what Kaia was thinking now. Despite being his older sister, Kaia was rather difficult to understand. Then again, he never had an eye for gardening, and she didn't know several effective ways to painfully incapacitate another pony. After a quick search of the house, Kurt felt a lot more comfortable. He was certain nopony saw him enter the spire. Now was just a week until Kurt's chance to leave arrived. Easily enough time to comb the entire spire for clues to the whereabouts of Cornelius. It turned out Kurt was right. His dad did work for the Equestria Construction Service. His mother worked for the Baltimare Fashion Press- a big-name fashion magazine. Kurt remembered spotting a few copies at Rarity's place. Kurt checked the fridge as he entered the kitchen once more. Ingredients and other stuff. They didn't look or smell expired. Kurt wondered how long ago the fridge was resupplied; probably a week at least. Nothing expires that fast aside from expensive delicacies. The pantry, however, was full of canned food, so Kurt was definitely set for the week before the big event coming up. With that worry out of the way, Kurt started searching for clues. The search over the first five floors took several hours- and the ex-guard was utilizing all of his investigative training. Nothing so far, and it was starting to get dark out. The next day was equally as fruitless. The last five floors didn't have anything. Kurt then started searching the cellar. Still nothing stood out- nothing gave Kurt an idea where Cor was taken or how he went missing. No suit threads on sharp bits, no hoofprints, no dirt, no nothing. The Guards were definitely thorough- as they usually are. Perhaps they did get such a clue only Kurt would know the significance of. Maybe they didn't know such significance. Kurt climbed up to his room to collect his thoughts. There had to have been something. Kurt remained in his home, hiding in the shadows of his room, away from the large, tinted windows. He didn't want to risk anything. Even sleeping, his ears were open. He felt like whenever he stopped to rest back in the Everfree Forest: always alert. He did not speak for the past three days. The searching continued- this time a much more thorough search through Cornelius' room. He searched under the bed, in the closet, everywhere in and around the toy box, even looking for hiding places in the mattress or behind paintings on the wall. There was nothing on or in Cor's desk either. The older brother even pulled the desk over and searched every surface of the drawers and desk itself. Kurt then noticed one of the drawers had a hole in the bottom- a hole that didn't show on the other side. The ex-guard gripped a pen between his teeth and pushed it through the hole. The board rose, of course. Kurt wondered how the heck Cornelius knew of this interesting stash system- or how the Guard never caught it. Inside the cache was a small pile of neatly-pressed sheets of paper. Kurt pulled them out and spread them across the desk. They were all copies of the letters to Kurt. He remembered every one of them very clearly, but he read them anyway. He missed the look of his little brother's writing. They were all the same- save for one. One letter was something Kurt had never read before. Kurt. You're probably never going to find this, but I wanted to get it down on paper anyway. Mom and Dad were just told that you ran away. I doubt I'd ever know why. Kaia came home that afternoon, and she was also worried. I'm scared, bro. Not because you ran away, but because Mom and Dad seemed almost... grateful. The letter wasn't finished. The overall by-the-books letter structure seemed a lot more complete in all the the other letters. With this one, it seemed to have been stopped part-way through, then left in the stash along with all the others. Kurt wondered how the Guards had missed this. Wouldn't they have noticed an oddly-placed hole among all the otherwise smooth-bottomed drawers? Maybe he just lucked out with this find. His parents seemed grateful? That implied so many things to the ex-guard. His parents were grateful that he had run away, never to be a problem again? Maybe they hoped Kurt would've gotten caught and imprisoned for real. The fighting horse assumed they were grateful because they deep-down never wanted a violent son. That theory went out the window when Kurt realised that his parents have always treated him with... well, they didn't treat him like anything. To them, Kurt was just another set of legs in the spire, doing his own thing. They were too busy looking out for Kaia- who'd been practicing her art, working the many window gardens set around the spire. They just didn't care... But if they didn't care, they wouldn't have seemed grateful- like Cor noticed and recorded in the letter. Kurt sat down on Cornelius' chair, looking over all of the letters, trying to find something else- anything. Some kind of code? Kurt and Cor never practiced making a secret code most closely-knit brothers sometimes do. Then he realised: He had an objective after all. He had to confront his mother and father and ask them what happened to Cor. For all Kurt knew, he was pissing in the wind. In all honesty, it wouldn't hurt to find Mom and Dad. They both went between Manehattan and Baltimare whenever they weren't home. It would be Kurt's first time over in either city, provided he got out of Canterlot. The only chance for that, however, would come with the Princess Luna ceremony a few days later. --- Kurt didn't turn on any lights or heat up any stoves. He opened a can of sweetgrass and chewed slowly. He was deep in thought amongst the silence. It was around two in the morning, and he had just woken up from a nap that more than rested him well enough. Even with a clear mind, he couldn't get to sleep again. Outside the tinted windows, Kurt watched the night life. Guards changing their shifts, some party-goers stumbling their trot of shame from whatever nearby salt bar. Kurt's gold suit lay on his bed in an effort to keep it as clean as possible. Any household system that relied on an outside source, Kurt didn't want to risk using. Maybe somepony could tell where materials are going around the city; some random pony who monitors utility usage throughout the city. The sweetgrass was the kind that could use cooking, but it tasted just fine on its own, and it got the ex-guard fed. He sat at his window, looking down at the streets, up toward the palace, to the barracks, to his school. Twilight Sparkle shook his hoof, he reminded himself. It was an almost magical feeling, like a weight had been lifted. His goal to actually meet the purple filly had been complete. Once he was done with this, he'd probably return to Ponyville and try for the next step: a full-fledged sentence for once. Something of interest caught Kurt's eye: a pony covered with a dark cloak, carrying a large opaque liquid container, approaching the spire itself. Kurt threw on the suit and finished off the sweetgrass in one more bite. The ex-guard picked up the saddle pack containing more canned foods, the letters, money and packaged ingredients before making his way downstairs. He neared the windows and tried to look out of them at every angle while keeping his distance from the actual surface. He hid in the shadows, looking for the cloaked pony with the container. A splashing sound reached Kurt's ears from the cellar. The ex-guard inched his way to the cellar door in the corner of the kitchen, and opened it slowly. A stench reached Kurt's snout, distracting him from the sounds. It was that of... gasoline? Kurt wondered what the hell somepony was doing with a canister of gasoline when the pouring stopped. A light followed... A bright red-orange light. The sound of an inferno came with it. Kurt slammed the door shut and galloped upstairs away from the door. The cellar door flew off its hinges as fire splashed through and started setting the kitchen on fire. The sound of blazing fury flooded Kurt's ears and only slightly shook the ground. The ex-guard immediately regret his decision to run upstairs rather than run out of the back door- or the front door. The flames trapped him upstairs. Thinking on the fly, Kurt continued bounding up the stairs. Eventually, he reached Cornelius' room. Within was the big windows every upstairs room had, and a smaller window that fed the occupant a nice view of the window of the next-door building. Kurt threw the window open and checked the distance. Living in Canterlot gave Kurt an uncanny lack of fear of heights, fortunately. Regardless of that, he still thought he had a really stupid idea. He concentrated energy on his back leg muscles, and shot himself across the empty space leading far down to the alley. Kurt impacted on the window, and grabbed a hold of the surprisingly secure sill. With his snout, Kurt attempted to open the window, but no dice. Kurt got a better grip with his left foreleg and swung his free hoof at the window. He didn't have a horseshoe on, so it took several hits before the window finally shattered. Panicked, Kurt pulled himself through the window. Kurt scrambled away from the destroyed window, panting loudly. Somepony planned to destroy the spire. He wasn't sure if the pony even knew Kurt was there. Damnit, Kurt thought, If only I had taken the back door instead. I could've sneaked up on the guy and beat his damned head in... His rush died, and so did his loud panting. The spire was burning. At this point, Kurt had no way to contribute. He could do nothing but wait for fire control ponies to get informed of the disaster. The ex-guard wasn't a firefighter. Even if he was, the fire had already become too great for him to handle with absolutely no equipment. Kurt sat down on a chair, with his face in his hooves. What could he do? Punch the fire? No... He got what he needed. Sustenance for a few days, money he found in emergency stashes he knew of, and evidence he would need when confronting his parents. The money was easily enough to last him four weeks if he rationed properly. The last question on his mind was "Whose house was this?" "Excuse me," said a voice that petrified the ex-guard. The light turned on, and there was a young teenage filly looking straight at Kurt. Kurt stared back. Both blinked at each other, wondering the exact same thing. "Okay, I'll just go find whoever's burning the next-door spire down - cause it's kind of my spire," Kurt finally said before standing up and turning to the stairs. "There's a fire?" the filly asked as she got out of bed to investigate the broken window. "Yeah, there, uh, is... Sorry about the window." At that, Kurt bounded down the stairs. Outside on the street, Kurt galloped around the now-engulfed spire. He was undergoing yet another panic attack. He was out on the streets. He was exposed, and he had no safe house anymore. The saddlebag did a decent job covering his flank and cutie mark, but he still was spotted breaking a sixth-story window by a filly. Kurt forcefully transformed the panic into anger. Somepony just tried to burn his spire down. His Celestia-damned home. Let the officials deal with the fire. Kurt needed to find that cloaked one. There were faint drops leading toward the school. Kurt raced after the path, sniffing for the gasoline. In a minute, the smell would have completely dissipated. By the next morning, all evidence that the spire fire was on purpose would have vanished completely. He didn't give up quite yet. By all means, the cloaked one had all the time in the world to find a bin to discard of the container and hide. Eventually, Kurt finally gave up. The smell had gone, and he was in the middle of the old playground at his school. The arsonist could've gotten anywhere by now. He stamped his hooves in frustration, causing sand to bounce into the air. This was the last thing he wanted right now. Kurt needed someplace to stay, and quick. "Think, Kurt, think," he muttered to himself. He was trying to remember what ponies he was on good terms with... Pony Joe... Kurt didn't know where the guy lived. Maybe he could hide near that donut shop. Kurt kept an eye out for guards on-duty and off. At this time of night, the guards were few, but were in key areas, such as the palace, the barracks, the entrance, and around the city perimeter. Anywhere else, the peace and quiet could be easily broken by even the softest of whispers. It only takes one pony screaming to call down the thunder. In fact, Kurt was surprised that the young filly didn't scream when the ex-guard pounded the window into shards. Pony Joe's was surprisingly open. The owner had his eyes closed, obviously sleeping on the job. Kurt checked around him and entered the donut shop. The owner shook his head and cleared his throat. With a hoof, he wiped the fatigue from his eyes. "Good evening, sir. Uh... kind of late to be rolling out for donuts, eh?" "If that were your opinion, why do you keep your shop open this long?" Kurt asked. "The guy who's supposed to be taking this shift had to call in sick... Wait a minute..." Pony Joe squinted his eyes to get a better look at Kurt. "You sound familiar, man." "It's me, Kurt," Kurt said. He knew he was blowing his cover, but he felt that he could trust Pony Joe. "You're alive?" Pony Joe asked, cocking a brow. Kurt blinked, but didn't think too much on the question. "Uh... Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" "Radio announced your death last week," Pony Joe replied. "That's impossible," Kurt replied, "They never announce KIA without a body." Pony Joe took his turn to blink, He had no idea how to respond, it seemed. A pony is announced dead without following protocol, and said thought-dead pony arrives with a nice haircut and suit, and now he's standing in a donut shop for reasons unknown. "I need a place to stay. Now more than ever," Kurt said. "Why?" "My little brother is missing, somepony just set my old home on fire, and now they're breaking protocol to deem me dead," Kurt replied, "I honestly don't think I'm mindlessly paranoid." Pony Joe absorbed the information. "Your brother? Cornelius?" Kurt nodded. "He came here quite a bit, now that you mention it. I didn't know you two were brothers!" Kurt's heart skipped a beat in excitement. "How was Cor doing?" "Always friendly," Pony Joe boasted, as if Cornelius was his favourite customer. "Sometimes with his friends, sometimes alone. Always happy either way. He enjoyed the donuts, and I enjoyed making them. What more can ya ask for?" "When did you see him last?" Kurt asked. "Well, that was the one time he seemed troubled," Pony Joe replied, "Come on, I'll lend you my room. Lemme just close up." Kurt looked at one of the remaining donuts, then placed a few bits onto the counter. Pony Joe smirked and accepted the money. After picking up the donut with his mouth, Kurt left the donut shop. The lights turned off, and Pony Joe locked the front door behind him. Pony Joe gestured the ex-guard to follow. The duo approached a nearby spire- an apartment spire. By the time they entered, Kurt finished off his donut. In Pony Joe's apartment, there was a makeshift bed and a sofa. Kurt found the returned trust rather surprising. Was Cornelius that friendly a guy to Pony Joe that he was even friendly to family? Kurt wasn't sure if he alone warranted this level of trust. "The one time he seemed troubled?" Kurt asked. "The little guy was talking about how his brother went missing. He never gave me any names. He seemed really distressed." Pony Joe hanged his jacket up on a hanger in the tiny kitchen. "That was over two weeks ago, now that I think about it. About two days after the last time you came in." Kurt acknowledged the information. "Did he mention anything about parents?" "He asked me how I would feel if my parents would've been grateful if I up and vanished without a trace, never to return," Pony Joe sniffed, but tried not to tear up. "I don't have parents like that, but I can almost imagine how life would be if that did happen..." Kurt nodded. Somehow, he wasn't welling up. Deep-down, he had gotten over the sadness stage. Now he wanted answers. He needed information, and he needed to get to Manehattan and Baltimare. He had the names of the companies his parents worked for. "I'm really not sure why I let you in my apartment," Joe slumped onto his bed. "Before the report, the Guards said you were dangerous. Truth is: I honestly cannot believe that, since you've got such a well-mannered younger brother." Kurt continued where he left off, not responding to the direct compliment. "Somepony burned my home down earlier tonight. It was all set to look like some random act of some unknown force or something. It was a cloaked pony with a large container of gasoline.” Pony Joe didn't respond. He was snoring, apparently he was kidnapped by sleep. Kurt wondered if the guy's fatigue contributed to his lack of thinking before letting this deep-down ball of violence bunk with him. The ex-guard was thankful, and suddenly realised that he was finally getting tired as well. --- Kurt woke up on the sofa with a kink in his neck. He got up and did some morning stretches. Pony Joe was in the kitchen. "How'd you get the scars, anyway?" Joe asked. Kurt automatically replied, "I don't want to talk about it." "Get asked that a lot, eh?" Pony Joe asked. "Where was I, regarding Cor?" "He asked you about strangely grateful parents. What came after that?" Kurt asked. "Frankly, he was silent the rest of the day." Pony Joe answered after a quick recollection of said conversation. "So was I, in fact. Getting asked that gets you thinking." Kurt nodded. Pieces were coming together. His parents were grateful that he was gone. Between the time Cor vanished and Kurt arrived in Ponyville, the announcement of death was broadcasted... If anything, it implied that Kurt's parents purposefully tried to move while he was gone. The unexplained arson felony at his home seemed to support that idea. That would mean Cornelius was with Mom or Dad... and the ex-guard could figure out exactly why. "I need to get to Manehattan," The ex-guard finally announced, "Or Baltimare - whichever's closer to walk to." "Manehattan," Pony Joe corrected. "Yeah... My one chance of getting out of Canterlot without being spotted should come up during that big event coming up in... what, two days? Three days?" "The Princess Luna fiasco?" Joe asked, "Everypony's been getting ready for that. Who'da thought, long-lost sister to Celestia." Kurt flashed back to the ruins of Everfree Forest. The dark unicorn with the ruined armour was Celestia's sister? Then again, he did recall seeing wings. At the time, he thought they were pieces of the ruined armour. An alicorn as well - with both extra pieces to a pony Kurt and others lacked. Pony Joe let Kurt stay for the three days. Having a goal that required him to not be detected by the Guard, he didn't dare consider taking advantage of this rather shocking display of trust. In fact, he never considered considering said morally unsound idea. Kurt had to stay in the apartment, so he took the liberty to reorganize everything- much like everything used to look in his old bedroom. Pony Joe was a bit of a slob, with newspapers everywhere, empty containers not disposed of yet, some dishes that needed washing. The fighting horse also needed something to do. Three days in self-inflicted confinement was really boring without something to do. Nothing seemed to result of the teenage filly witness, who only contributed that some stranger told her there was a fire. She also mentioned that she was tired and didn't remember too many details. Shockingly enough, she didn't mention the window. Kurt wondered if that filly was all there in the brain - or at least mentally matured enough to put all the care in the world into the situation. Then again, windows were dime-a-dozen here in Canterlot. The time passed, and Pony Joe had no comments regarding Kurt's self-initiative to clean up his own mess - a mess the donut shop owner seemed to like. It definitely wasn't going to be anything positive, but the donut shop owner seemed to understand why Kurt did it. Boredom is a key ingredient to insanity. The night eventually came. Everypony who was anypony was there. The streets were packed. For a pony who's trying not to be spotted by the Guard, it was ironically Kurt's best hiding place. His gold suit didn't seem that strange after all, given the glamorous dresses and other costumes worn by almost every present guest. He hoped nopony would take too much effort to identifying his cutie mark. After all, there were hundreds of thousands out on the streets already. All moving, all pressed together, all part of the crowd of a massive parade. On one float, Princess Celestia and her younger sister stood. The elder looked rather proud, and the younger seemed almost broken to tears of joy. Kurt was right: it was the same filly, and she in fact was an alicorn. The outstretched wings kind of made it obvious. All of the Guard were present as a massive marching band behind and in front of the Royal Float. Their gold armour recently washed and polished to a mirror shine. Seeing them there gave Kurt a crazy idea. He weaved through the crowd discreetly, and made his way to the barracks. The doors were locked, obviously. Kurt knew the secret knock, so he tapped it several times in an odd succession. They opened, and Kurt tackled whoever opened the door. Before the guard could determine what happened, a hoof slammed into his unprotected cranium. He was out cold. Kurt gasped for breath. This was his first time making the first move. It felt... odd. Every other time, he swung his hoof in reaction to something - be it a bully or a rampaging beast of the Everfree Forest. This time, he attacked first - and planned on it. The guard Kurt knocked out was none other than Sergeant Baton himself. This made Kurt feel so terrible on so many levels. At the same time, it made him feel good. That worm seemed to expel some kind of... happiness-inducing chemical into Kurt's brain... "No, focus," he hoarsely whispered to himself, purposefully disguising his voice in case there were other guards present. He dragged Baton behind the desk and galloped to the armoury. Once there, he looked through the lockers until he found his own. He remembered he number: 213D. The locker still had his gear, so he grabbed it all. Putting on the suit over the formal attire was easy - Kurt had done it twice every day since he first started. Kurt couldn't help but wonder why they still kept his uniform despite the official report that he was dead. Maybe they had plans after capturing him again - plans to make sure he behaves. The implications started getting to ridiculous levels that the ex-guard still believed. He also emptied the locker of his badge and other trinkets he always took with him: a shield, tonfa, and a blade. All of them were designed to attach to his foreleg plates. It was all standard-issue. As quickly as he got in, Kurt got out and locked the door behind him. He only hoped Sergeant Baton didn't get a good look at him. The ex-guard didn't think so, having struck fast and unexpectedly. Of course, he had a more conspicuous disguise - but how else would he be able to carry the armour and his saddle pack? Pony Joe couldn't hide him anymore, meaning he was officially on his own. Kurt initially avoided the crowd, trying to find a way across the parade. Just my luck, he thought. The postal headquarters was on the other side of the street. A real spotlight area, that street - what with all its magic fireworks, loud parade music, and spotlights everywhere. He wouldn't be able to spend a nanosecond beyond the edge of the crowd without being spotted by even the most disinterested colt. He wanted to find a darker way around, but time was running out. Instead, Kurt pushed through the crowd and onto the street. He timed this mad dash when the least guards were nearby. Some audience members paused and wondered what the heck this certain guard was doing. With his picked-up speed, Kurt leaped over the crowd. Fortunately, they were more than willing to push open a spot to land on. The ex-guard blasted through the crowd, and vanished around the corner of another building. Kurt was officially compromised. However, if he got to the post office quick enough, he'd be gone before any guards are informed, let alone sent. He rounded buildings as much as he could, self-imposing a maze to throw off the guards if they called for directions. The postal building was in sight after one final corner. Kurt burst to the fastest gallop he could. The scars stretched, catching him off-guard. Augh! The stupid scars, of course! Kurt winced in pain and slowed down. He was so damn close to the post office. He could smell the adhesive ponies use to secure envelopes. He could smell the unique paper and tape used for packaging. The door, however, was locked. Kurt banged his armoured hoof onto the ground, then started rounding the building- looking for an entrance he could improvise. Wings flapped closer. Looks like they finally got wind of this unusual behaviour. Kurt couldn't let them see him. He needed a real hiding place. The ex-guard stopped when he reached the farthest edge he could reach of the building- an edge with the same cheap, yet ornate-looking railings that merely served as markers rather than safety devices. Kurt jumped over the railings and wrapped his hooves around the strongest point of the otherwise useless railings: the base. On the underside were supports like nopony could imagine. None of them were close enough for Kurt to swing to, especially with such an uncomfortable grip. "I see something!" shouted a voice. Kurt huffed in frustration. There had to be something. A convenient vent? A fault in the construction that he could use as a grip? Anything? "Ah, there ye are," said the same voice - much closer this time. Kurt looked up at the guard, and furrowed his brow. The guard's cocky expression slowly vanished. "Uh... Sir?" Before the superior officer could respond, Kurt lifted himself up and pulled the guard down with him, ultimately letting go. The guard's expression immediately changed to shock as Kurt pulled him through the railing and over the edge. The guard yelped in surprise as Kurt kept a firm grip on the pegasus guard. The guard's wings flapped wildly as the duo plummeted down the mountain. Back up on the edge, Kurt spotted the rapidly-shrinking sight of several other guards looking over the edge. Kurt didn't get a good enough look, but he assumed their own expressions resembled the falling guard's. Soon, the duo neared the slope. Kurt shoved the pegasus guard away and reared himself for a better landing. His hooves touched the slope, and he started to roll down the mountain. The saddle bags were secure and his armour was tightly-fit. Kurt was absolutely certain that nothing would burst and spill contents everywhere. Regardless, the rolling got more and more intense. He was certainly tough enough to roll down a rocky slope, but this big a rocky slope? The ex-guard knew he'd need a way to stop rolling, and fast. Amidst the impact on the rocks, Kurt could hear more shouting coming close. It seems the other guards were getting in on the action. Kurt pushed himself from the ground and attempted to steady himself. Indeed, six more pegasus guards were bearing down on him. In another direction, three others were trying to catch their pulled-down comrade. The ex-guard landed on his boot-encased hooves and slid to a stop. The slope had gotten flatter as it neared the low hills. Success, Kurt thought. He was now out of Canterlot. The next problem to tackle was the guards. Kurt lowered his stance, assuming a savage expression on his face. He was this close to freedom to investigate his missing brother, and these guards want nothing more than to stop it. The thought made him angry- and he wanted to get angry. When angry, his philosophical side took the rodeo seat and hoped to Celestia that the raging bull didn't buck it off completely. The pegasi zoomed toward him, and Kurt responded by unsheathing the blade of his helmet. "He's serious, lads!" the sergeant of the group announced. Kurt lunged forward, forcing the guards to split off around him. After that, Kurt continued bounding down the hill. He slipped the sheath into his saddle pack as he did so. His hooves pounded onto the solid purple rock that comprised the mountain, and he kept his eyes and ears out for the guards circling around him like vultures. Patience, Kurt thought. None of them had crossbows. Even if they did, they had limited shots. Just need to wait for them to get close enough... Now who'll be the lucky colt this first round? One swooped in, and Kurt swung a hoof in an uppercut fashion. The hit was true, right in the pegasus' jaw. The guard's wings went limp as he impacted onto the slope and started rolling. Two more guards split off from the main group to help their comrade. Kurt decided that was a good thing. All he needed to do was get them all distracted from saving their buddies, then find a place to lose them in. Unfortunately, Everfree Forest was on the other side of the mountain. As far as he could see, there were no trees or mountains in the direction he galloped. Manehattan's skyline slowly disappeared as the low hills rose in his perspective. The last three guards swooped in, realising the error of their friend's ways. Kurt slid to a halt, and two of the guards flew into each other. The last one - the sergeant - was quick enough to slow down himself. The sergeant landed in Kurt's way, where they got good looks at each other. The other four guards announced that they were on the way from back near the top. "Kurt?" the sergeant asked. "Broke protocol, eh?" Kurt growled, "Official report states I'm dead." The sergeant didn't have anything to say. Kurt figured the guy was mentally preparing himself to take down the ex-guard. "Take it from me, Sir," Kurt continued, "Since we're now all about breaking protocol, go back and tell them I died on impact. There is no damn way you or anyone are stopping me now." "That's a shame, Kurt, cause stopping you is our number one priority," the sergeant bellowed in that authoritative voice Kurt hears in every other sergeant's voice. "You know full well why we can't let you loose." "You're right, but my brother is missing," Kurt replied. "Remember the Royal Guard code? If not protocol, you should at least remember that." The sergeant wouldn't have enough of it. Despite "from the day a guard dons his uniform to the day he dies, every guard is family", the sergeant unsheathed his own helmet blade and lunged at the ex-guard in the stolen uniform. Kurt lunged as well - except he side-stepped and tripped the sergeant with his back leg. The sergeant's face smashed into the rocky side, and he fell unconscious. The blade stabbed into a small crevice in the rock and got stuck as a result. The ex-guard continued galloping down the slope, followed by the last four. This was never going to stop, was it? In fact, why did Kurt care about when it was going to end? ... Oh yeah, every guard was a brother or sister. He finally figured out why he felt horrendous after beating Baton unconscious. Kurt continued galloping until he reached the low hills. Oddly enough, Kurt couldn't help but notice that silence seemed to follow him instead of wings flapping. The ex-guard turned his head to see the other four tending to the sergeant. Apparently they gave up on the chase. He knew why they decided to stop. They had to report that Kurt was alive and made off with equipment and other stuff in saddle packs. They could easily assume the fighting horse was making his way to Manehattan, and would no-doubt send word to the guards stationed there. The ex-guard in the stolen uniform did not stop his run. He put as much distance as he could between himself and Canterlot. Overall, the mission was a success... but at what cost? His home was burned down, the guards knew he was there and where he was going, and he certainly wasn't going to try to bring trouble back to Ponyville. The ponies there are too nice to warrant such a thing. Kurt kept low, snaking around the lowest points between the hills. Eventually, he found a nice foxhole hidden behind a dam for a power nap. Sheathing his blade again, he lay down in the empty cove and shut his eyes. --- Armoured hooves filled Kurt's ears. Search parties again. Kurt's lapse in judgement landed him in a worse position than before. "You have got to be kidding me!" Baton's voice echoed between the hills. "Kurt! Assaulting a superior officer has serious penalties! We've got every search party looking in these hills! We WILL find you!" Kurt definitely was not feeling good. After all, he reserved real heart-felt respect for Sergeant Baton - his mentor. Kurt slowly inched into the shadows. His armour was heavily scratched, so it didn't shine so well. The plates were still bright regardless. The ex-guard slowly slipped the protective leather off of his helmet blade. He was in a corner now, with no way to slip out "We got a foxhole! I want every damn grain of sand searched in there!" Baton barked. This was it, moment of truth. Kurt attempted to instill anger into himself, hopefully enough to disregard the fact that these were all his brothers and sisters he planned to tear through with no regards to their overall health. It was no use, however. By the time armoured hooves landed outside the hole, Kurt still had no way to take the initiative to strike first. There were too many, and Kurt's always unwelcome civil side had too much of a grip on the mental wheel. The worm in his brain didn't seem hungry for once. In his mind, he was sobbing. He wanted to see Cornelius safe and sound. He wanted to know why his parents disregarded him throughout his childhood. He wanted to see Twilight Sparkle - probably in bed, or someplace romantic. Kurt's mind wandered, wondering what other nice fillies he could have met if it turned out he never had a chance with Celestia's own apprentice. Vinyl seemed nice, so did Rarity. The outstretched legs outside of the foxhole did not bend. Some hushed chatter reached Kurt's ears- which was met with Baton's verbal gibberish that implied frustration. "Gentlemen," Baton started, "We've got new orders back at Canterlot, Priority One." After a pause, Baton added, "Kurt..." in a now-calm, but concerned manner... then nothing. It almost seemed like he was following up with a sigh, but Kurt never heard such sounds. Instead, the air suddenly became laden with the sounds of wings flapping. The sounds died in the distance until nothing remained but a single bird chirping to find a mate. Kurt's mind drew a complete blank. Just how lucky was he? How the hell did that even happen? Celestia ex Machina much? Kurt asked himself. New orders that came at the exact moment he was about to be found? How convenient can life get? Suddenly, Kurt realised that it actually did happen, and he screamed in shock. This wasn't meant to happen. The guard were so close to finding Kurt, and then he'd probably wound - even kill - at least two guards before he's torn apart by the frustrated garrison. He shivered as he crawled out of the hole. Kurt gasped for air as his eyes darted around every hill around him. Every guard was gone, and Kurt wondered if this was an act of a power greater than even Princess Celestia. The spirit of the Queen? A preceding monarch? His mind scrambled all these thoughts together into complete incomprehensible garbage. Kurt wanted an explanation. He wanted something to serve as a foundation to why he should be thankful for this out-of-the-blue chance to continue. After a few deep breaths, Kurt clambered over rocks and the beaver dam that resided near the long-abandoned foxhole. He still shook everywhere in confusion, so his gait was slow. As reason started returning, Kurt realized that his scars hurt like the dickens. That run down the hill must have messed something up. Kurt massaged them slightly from the outside of his armour and formal suit- which was now dirty and sweat-ridden. He sheathed the helmet blade again, and sat down near the top of a hill. The sunrise over the barely visible skyline of Manehattan was... beautiful. That was the only word Kurt could think of. The sunrise reminded him of the purple filly; of the disc jockey; of the grizzled guitarist; of Patrick and Stella; of Pinkie Pie, and Scootaloo, and Rarity. He wanted to see the Ponyville doctor and his nurses again. He wanted to meet the pony with the soft voice that reminded him of Kaia. He wanted to meet more well-mannered ponies, experience new things like he did before returning to Canterlot. It was decided: Next chance he got, he would return to Ponyville, and do everything he would be able to do there. Last he was there, Kurt concentrated more on making sure he was ready and able to go find Cornelius, that he never got to truly enjoy all of the things he did while in Ponyville. For once in his life, Kurt had a regret he only realised after a brush with the equivalent of eternal damnation itself. It made the fighting horse wonder what other things he regretted. He regretted having Kaia lie to Cor for him. He regretted never speaking up when his parents ignored him. He regretted mentally scarring the breezy-maned mare with his scars and blood covering his hide. Most of all, he regretted not being an honest enough brother... and now was the time to remedy that. With mind now collected and stable, Kurt stood up and galloped into the distance.  He had an investigation to complete and a young colt to save.