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// Chapter 17 
// Story: Bad Future Crusaders 
// by TonicPlotter 
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        Since the sun had risen over the normally sleepy town of Broncton it had been thrust into total chaos. Just as the orange glow of sunrise bathed the streets in light, loud blasts and a chorus of panicked screams from the townsponies shook the very foundation of the little hamlet. Now the sun was an hour into the sky and the sounds had finally subsided, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. The damage to the town itself had been minimal from the looks of things: a half-collapsed building here, a few ruined streets there, but the threat was forever left behind in the townsponies that such a thing could even happen in such a small rural community as this.
        And it was all the fault of that utterly useless gray mare.
        The masked mare under the cloak slid lower against the chimney she used as a backrest, high above the streets on a lone rooftop and nestled comfortably out of sight from anypony that wasn’t directly above, and groaned quietly with annoyance. She had arrived in town the night before, under cover of darkness as usual, to make sure she was good and ready for what should have been a busy and productive day. She immediately realized something was wrong when she noticed the moon had been darkened out and found this good vantage point on a roof to keep an eye out. Sure enough her suspicions were confirmed: she soon spotted a pegasus in a drab gray flight suit slipping about the darkened sky and carrying a load of those curious little bombs of theirs. The gray mare had clearly pulled off the heist, but had definitely caught their attention doing so.
        “‘The best’, are you?” she said humorlessly as she dabbed at her forehead. Carefully she slid herself to the edge of the roof and looked down into the alley; both of her prizes had been right down there barely a half-hour ago, and she had no choice but to helplessly let them split off in two directions thanks to the trigger-happy earth pony and the tantrum of the pegasus. They had been together; she was this close to walking right up to them and claiming both, but now they might as well be across the planet from her and it was enough to make her sick with fury.
        Thanks to the warmth of the sun beating down on her and the tarmac roof beneath her soaking it up like a hearth it was already too hot for her underneath her pile of clothes. With a weak sigh she peeled the scarf from her face and drew a deep breath of fresh air. Though it was rich with the scent of cordite and hot concrete from the bombs, it nevertheless beat the stale scent of air filtered through the tattered cloth she wore to obscure her face. She sat back and reminisced about the good old days; gone were the days when she was free to walk amongst others without such a ridiculous disguise and when she was free to step out into the open rather than stay in dank alleyways and the abandoned corners of society. Such simple things she had once taken for granted were gone, along with her kingdom and everything she valued. These days her life was gone. Nowadays she wore this miserable pile of rags and they were her prison, for she had to remain a ghost and couldn’t suffer the consequences of anypony learning she was still alive.
        Not yet, anyways. How delicious it will be when the time comes that I can shed this miserable disguise once and for all.
        She took the shaded glasses she wore off and bathed her face in the sunlight, and actually found herself enjoying its warm caress. Admittedly her former life of decadence had often kept her from appreciating such basic life pleasures. Rediscovering these pleasures along with that most wonderful thought of restoring things to the way they should be were the only things that had kept her going all these years and had definitely left their mark on her. “The years truly have changed me,” she said in an almost happy tone.
        “You and me both, my dear friend.”
        What little good there was in her mood evaporated at the sound of that voice and she quickly ducked her head out of sight to obscure her face behind her scarf and glasses. “You again,” she said, making no effort to mask the disdain in her voice. How this peculiar yellow unicorn in the business suit kept finding her was a mystery, as was his unusual perseverance. 
        “Good day to you, my friend incognito!” said the happy unicorn, “As always I am glad to make your acquaintance and see you have avoided trouble!”
        She stared coldly at him through her shaded glasses while he grinned ear to ear like a young foal eager to play with his best friend at the park. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a chipper pony in the wake of such destruction.”
        His smirk wavered as he tried in vain to hold onto his cheery visage. “I swear, the guards should be alerted of a murder,” he said somewhat sadly, “You’ve gone and completely killed my good mood.” He sat down with his eyes locked onto the tarmac roof and dug gently at the rough surface, and in a flash he spontaneously perked up once more. “Alas, when you’ve been as close to shuffling off with the reaper as I you learn to wear a smile through thick and thin. Besides, today truly is a great day to be alive, isn’t it?”
        “And what, if I may be so bold, is so special about today?”
        He giggled quietly to himself. “I could give my rather trenchant list, but I gather you’re only interested in the meat of it?”
        “Honestly?” said the masked mare with a low sigh, “I’d prefer neither. What I would like is for you to stop bothering me. I relented to you once when you gushed over that thief and I hired her, and look at what became of things!”
        “You seem a might bit down, my friend,” he said completely ignorant of her comment, “How about a trick? Now watch carefully; the hoof is quicker than the horn.” He fiddled his hooves about and thrust them outward, and with just a hint of self-parody in his tone he whispered the incantation, “Hocus… pocus.”
        A modest bouquet of roses wrapped in a small blue bow and foil paper appeared with a pop of gray smoke and he grasped them gingerly from the air to clutch them close. He took a deep breath to luxuriate in their fragrance and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
        “I am not impressed by kindergarten-level magic.”
        One of the roses lit up with a pale yellow and drifted from the bouquet to slip into the fold of her hood, but she made no move to swat it away. She refused to even give him that satisfaction.
        If only you could see the abject disgust on my face right now.
        “Oh, very well,” he said with a playful sigh, “then allow me to present… the meat.” He snapped the bow in his teeth and the entire bouquet fell apart, leaving something in his hooves that nearly made her swallow her own tongue.
        “How in—?!” she sputtered in shock.
        He looped the Element of Magic, that precious golden tiara she had plotted to acquire for so long, around his hoof and twirled it as if it was the worthless toy of a foal. With a deft flick of his hoof he tossed it into the air and let it gently settle on top of his head with his magic, and turned to face her. “Your Highness,” he said in a goofy mockery of a mare’s voice and bowed quickly with a barely contained laugh.
        Her heart skipped a beat and it took every ounce of her will not to react. It was not possible that he knew her identity; nopony knew who was buried beneath this stale mountain of threadbare rags. Too many years had passed for anypony to even consider she was still alive, especially not this of all ponies. She had to know for sure, right here and now, and if he knew too much she would have no choice but to snuff him out once and for all. “What exactly is it that you want?” she said, carefully choosing her words and hiding her suspicion behind a veneer of false intrigue.
        The strange yellow unicorn immediately stopped fiddling with his new toy and his entire face lit up with joy. “I only hope you aren’t disappointed in my motivations. You see, I wish for a life of decadence and wealth.” He reared onto his hind legs and stretched out his forelegs to show off his rather expensive-looking suit jacket and what appeared to be a very valuable topaz gemstone tucked modestly under the collar of his undershirt. “I’m a pony of very simple tastes. Money. Power. Perhaps fame. The usual things; the first-class V.I.P. platter that most ponies only drool over as they work themselves into the ground at their pointless dead-end jobs.”
        “That’s it?” she said with a raised eyebrow hidden behind her glasses.
        “That’s it,” he affirmed with a sincere smile. Which, I might add, is what attracted me to you. Our quests trot side-by-side without ever once crossing. We could pool our resources and never once dip into each other’s pay-outs. Quite frankly, I don’t really care what you intend to do with this precious little relic, but I have fair guess what your intention is…” he trailed off and bowed his head to look over his sunglasses and right into hers, “Your Highness.”
        He knows.
        Her entire body locked up as if she had been buried alive and for a solid minute she couldn’t even think. The unicorn passively stood up straight once more and pushed his glasses flat against his face; his carefree demeanor making him seem threatening with the revelation that he was on to her. No choice. She had to deal with him right here and now; she had been so careful, so meticulous in all these years. She had worn a heap of rags she had dug from the trash and even gone far enough to act the part of a brain-dead hobo just to shy the attention of ponies away from her. Now, out of nowhere had come a borderline stalker who somehow had her figured out. She had just began to consider exactly how she would end his life when a dull clinking sound, not unlike the ticking of a clock, introduced the arrival of another pony who was climbing the ladder she had used to reach this rooftop.
        A pale earth pony mare with a bright red braided mane pulled herself onto the rooftop and sat near the edge before looking over with cold indifference in her eyes. Like the unicorn this one was also dressed in what appeared to be expensive clothes; a sky blue blouse and a deep blue scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. However, unlike the goofy-natured yellow pony, this one was armed with a large yellow bow and a quiver full of arrows strapped to her shoulder.
        “Hello, Twist,” said the yellow unicorn nonchalantly, to which Twist nodded back and stared off into the sky as if she had no interest in being there. “Yes,” said the unicorn with a sigh, “loquacious as always, my friend.”
        In one regard Twist’s silence and lack of humor was a refreshing change of pace compared to the other one, but was also one more inconvenience to add to today’s list: killing the unicorn was out thanks to the arrival of an armed partner. The mare in rags studied the two of them carefully, trying to make heads or tails of such a strange duo. They seemed to have nothing in common; the unicorn acted like the unholy spawn of a school-foal and a crooked salesman and seemed to lack the good graces to keep his trap shut, while the earth pony was silent as death and armed to the teeth with an antique Crystal Empire bow, specialized horseshoes to easily hold and draw her weapon, and even a trimmed sleeve on her blouse for better control. The only similarity the two had were the nearly identical scars centered too perfectly over their cutie marks to have been accidental.
        Gang-members, then? Or a cult, perhaps? Who exactly are these two?
        “So…” chuckled the unicorn as his gaze returned. “What do you say?”
        “How do I know I can trust you?”
        The unicorn smiled as if he had been told a particularly delicious joke. “You don’t, but all I am offering is a few extra sets of hooves to put in your corner in the hopes of being handsomely repaid.” He winked and clicked his tongue, “What could you possibly lose?”
        The mare in rags looked out into the town, at the lazily rising plumes of oily smoke that rose from the battered streets and the quiet chorus of chatter from frightened and confused ponies that came with it. She didn’t like the idea of trusting him, but sad to say, he had a point. As she thought about it more, the idea of having a few little piggies running around to shoulder some of the load was appealing. As the strange yellow unicorn continued to fiddle about with the delicate tiara, she tossed the idea around in her head and began to consider the possibilities.
        And if need be, I can throw the both of them to the wolves at the first sign of trouble to cover my own tail.
        A rare smile made its way across her face. “You were right. The only thing that matters to me is restoring my kingdom. Help me accomplish that and you will be rewarded with money and power beyond your wildest dreams.”
        The Princess’ tiara fell to the roof with a soft, resounding ting and the unicorn looked to her with a giddy smile. “Rest assured this is the start of something special, Princess…?”
        “Arpeggio,” she said distantly. “You may call me Arpeggio. I have not been a princess for quite a while now.”
        His magic raised the tiara into the air and placed it on his partner’s head, who flinched but otherwise didn’t react. “Poetic,” he said in admiration, “It’s rather musical; I like it. I am called Snails and my stone-faced counterpart, as you already know, goes by Twist.”
        “Now let me make something perfectly clear, Snails and Twist,” said Arpeggio with a note of poison in her tone, “Do not betray me.”
        Snails continued to smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my friend. Now then, what of the other two? I understand they were looking for you as well? Apple Bloom and Scootaloo are their names, by the way.”
        Arpeggio wondered for a moment how exactly he knew their names before speaking. “The pegasus has one of the elements. At least, she knows its location. The earth pony was to bring her to me so I could… talk… to her, but—”
        “—but… that won’t happen anytime soon,” said Snails dismissively. “I grew up with them, in the good old days of Ponyville. They are foalhood friends, and even after all these years are inseparable. In fact, you’d likely have gotten nothing more than a bullet through the heart had you shown yourself. Apple Bloom is rather… tightly strung these days, by the look of things.”
        Arpeggio’s front hooves quivered with anger; how in all of Equestria could she have such bad luck as to hire her prey’s best flipping friend as the hunter?! She breathed so heavily with rage that her glasses began to fog up and obscure her vision.
        “This could work out in our favor,” said Snails in a comforting tone. Apple Bloom’s sister... had an element as well. Honesty, if memory serves correct. Small world, hm?”
        Just like that her luck had turned around completely; Snails was already proving his worth as a ‘partner’. “Can we get them?” said Arpeggio as she turned her back to him so she could remove her glasses and wipe them clear.
        “Oh my, yes. We don’t need Scootaloo at all, just some information. You see, there was a third friend of theirs. I already made sure they at least suspect I know where she is. That poor little pegasus wants her friends so badly she’ll give anything to be with them. I, being the paragon of generosity and good will that I am, will see to it they are told exactly how to track her down,” he tittered devilishly, “for a small fee, of course.”
        “Perfect. Now then, as for the Element of Magic…”
        “For now,” interrupted Snails, “I would prefer it remain in my capable hooves. As a bargaining chip. You will have it in due time; as for now, how am I to know I can trust you entirely?”
        Arpeggio growled quietly under her breath, but quickly relented and let Snails have his way. “As you wish. Just keep it out of sight. In fact, do not mention me to anypony. I am supposed to be dead; I would prefer it remained that way for as long as possible.”
        “Not to worry. We have a gray little decoy running wild. If Silver Spoon’s even half as bad as her reputation lends her, she’s far too cocky for her own good. She’s also quite clever and quick on her hooves; the perfect bait they’ll never catch to draw their attention from us.”
        Twist suddenly stood up and walked over to Snails. She produced a small watch from her pocket and held it in his face impatiently.
        “Right, my punctual friend,” nodded Snails. He turned to face Arpeggio, “If there is nothing else, than I really must be going. We each have places to be and besides, it’s probably best we leave town before the cavalry shows up. I’ll be in touch.”
        The silent redhead jogged to the edge of the roof, gave a slight nod to Arpeggio, and vanished back down the ladder with the fading sound of her metal horseshoes clinking on the rungs announcing her departure. Snails followed suit, but stopped a few feet from the edge. “Although, if I may make one suggestion, do yourself a favor and get a much better disguise than mismatching socks and a cloak. An unassuming outfit does wonders over… whatever it is you call that ensemble.” With that he reared back and vanished with a dramatic burst of colored smoke.
        Left alone with her thoughts once more, Arpeggio returned to the chimney and reclined against it once more. She had nowhere to be for some time, and if this afternoon’s rainfall was still on schedule she had little time to savor the nice weather. The day was coming that the Queen would pay dearly for the harm that befell her subjects. With that in mind she found she was smiling and watched the sun continue to rise though her shaded glasses while a delicious feeling of satisfaction took root in her.