1
July 12th, 1007,
Finally! After so many years of fear and anger… after a week and a half of the Mare do Well, I finally got one of them!
I wish I could put into words the ecstasy I felt tonight. The closest term to describing it would be ‘adrenaline rush’. Seeing that pathetic little lump of a stallion cower before my fearsome silhouette… now he knows how it feels. My heart was racing as I wrought justice on him. He tried fighting back, of course, but he quickly learned how useless that was.
By the Goddesses, I could’ve just drank up the terror he radiated, especially after I pulled out the picture of my brother. If I close my eyes, I can clearly see the recognition as it dawned on his face. And then I made him look upon my face.
I made sure not to hurt him too badly, however… he’s going to be my little snitch; the key to the rest of the three.
Whether he likes it or not.
One of the Guard saw me exiting the building - the young cadet, I believe. If he talks, the Mare do Well will be wanted for assault, at least until they learn who their civilian is. I’ll have to keep an eye on him.
My little stool pigeon’s going to be held up in his little hospital bed for awhile. I think it would be nice of me to go visit him tomorrow night, yes?
But for now, I’m satisfied.
-Snow Storm
2
“Snow, dear, your friend is at the door. She seems very upset, poor thing…” Mrs.Orange called up to Snow Storm the following morning. The mute mare made her way downstairs, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Oh, Snowy, Buck was attacked last night… he’s in a pretty bad way. Oh, Buck…” Primrose said, barely able to hold herself together.
Snow Storm cocked her head, putting on what she hoped was a concerned face.
“Could you come along with me to visit him? I’m feeling just awful right now, I could use the support if you’re not too busy…”
She nodded at once, hurrying back to grab an outfit.
* * *
“He has no idea who attacked him,” Prim explained as they walked to Buck’s room in the infirmary. “He was attacked at his place, but didn’t see whoever did it. Probably a thief, though the Guards claim he wasn’t robbed…”
‘Maybe it’s the start of a new gang thing?'
“I sure hope not. What if… what if Buck’s involved with the wrong ponies? He never was eager to talk about his past… still, now’s not the time to ask him questions anyway. His jaw is broken so he can’t say much. I hope you don’t mind if I stick around here ‘til he gets better? I know you’ve enjoyed having someone around to help with the stall, but I want to make sure whoever did this doesn’t come back to finish the job. Just in case, y’know?”
Snow Storm nodded, cocking her eyebrows into a more sympathetic look. As they reached Bolt Buck’s room in the hospital, the pair spotted a pair of Fulake standing bedside, talking in hushed voices.
“Listen, I ain’t happy about this either,” the older one said to his subordinate, “but as far as the Captain’s concerned, this was just another junkie getting himself hurt in his apartment. I don’t buy it either, but there’s nothing we can do without evidence.”
“But, sir,” the other protested, growing obviously frustrated. “I saw that Mare do Well figure! We even made eye contact for a brief moment! She’s starting to become dangerous.”
“Of course she is! You think some unstable kook in a costume is just gonna rescue kittens from trees? No, this so-called ‘hero’ is a menace, and the sooner we find out what they’re really after the sooner-” he paused, noticing the two mares nearby.
“Excuse me, but can we go inside? I’m a friend of the victim’s, and I’d like to stay with him for awhile,” Prim asked the younger of the Fulake.
“Of course,” said Pelleas. “We’ll take our argument outside. Sir?”
“Sure,” Flyntt said, stepping out of the way.
Inside the room Bolt Buck lay, pale and bruised with a good portion of his body wrapped in bandages. He seemed to be half-asleep, though he quickly became alert at the sight of the mares entering the room.
“Hey Buck,” Prim said softly “I brought you some flowers. You feeling any better?”
The stallion nodded carefully, looking up at Primrose with a genuine warmth. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes drifted over to Snow Storm, who was staring coldly back at him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d’ve sworn the corners of her mouth were curled in a tight, humorless smile.
“Oh!” Primrose gasped, noting the sudden fear in his eyes “What’s the matter? It’s only Snowy, you have nothing to worry about,” she said, her tone a little less certain than she’d have liked.
Snow tapped Prim on the shoulder, raised her foreleg, and tilted her head back in a mimicry of drinking.
“Oh, water? Sure…” she said, walking out of the room and leaving the two alone. Buck started to whimper as soon as the door was shut, unable to even back away from the mare before him.
She glared at him, her sky-blue eyes a pair of icebergs. ‘Rat me out and I’ll rip your tongue out. Understood?’ She shoved the note in his face.
He nodded, never breaking eye contact with the mare. To do so would be dangerous, he figured. He replied with a hastily-written scrawl.
‘What do you want from me?’ the note asked.
‘Information about the other three.’
He slowly began to scribble down notes, stopping only when he had run out of paper.
'Facade I don’t know anything about. We split ways. Thankfully. Rough Houser went underground after that night. He’s been on the run ever since, but he’s still in the city. He owes the Boss a lot of money... If the Boss ever finds him, he’s a dead stallion, so you’ll struggle to catch that one. Bloodshot… well, he’s in an asylum. A total monster, far more psychotic than the rest of us, and far stronger too. You’d have a lot of trouble visiting him; he’s in the highest-security section of the place, and is under strict orders to have no visitors under any circumstances. That’s all I know.'
She took the note and stuffed it into her bag without reading it - she’d have plenty of time for that at home. ‘If any of this is wrong, I’ll know where you are.’
“You’re friends with Prim, right?” he asked weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you attack me, how are you going to explain how it happened?”
Snow snarled, but restrained herself from smacking the bruised pony. ‘I’ll tell her that you murdered her last boyfriend.’
“I plan on telling her anyway,” he croaked out. “I’m tired of running from it. She can’t spend day after day looking after me without knowing the truth. If it means I lose her, then so be it. I won’t rat on you, but not because of your threats.”
‘Good boy,’ she wrote, patting him on the head like the dog he was.
* * *
Pelleas was unusually quiet as the pair of Guards walked back to their barracks and the end of their shift.
“What’s the matter, kid? You’ve been giving me that look ever since you left the hospital. What’s on your mind?” Flyntt asked on the way.
“Do you ever get deja vu, sir?”
“Not very often. Why? See something important?”
“I’m not sure. It’s that little white mare we ran into today. Something about her…” Pelleas’ voice trailed off, trying to untangle the knot in his brain. Something huge was just on the horizon, just out of his reach...
“Oh, I think I know exactly what you’re talking about, kid,” Flyntt grinned “and that feeling ain’t deja vu, eheheh…”
“I’m being serious, sir,” Pelleas growled. “We’ve run into her once before, remember? Last week?”
“Yeah, you seemed to be focusing on her pretty intently.. especially her butt,” he smiled, enjoying the reactions his friend was giving him “I guess you thought she was important to the case? I’m sure that’ll help us find whoever’s responsible…”
“It can’t be a mere coincidence, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Well maybe you should go talk to her then. Ask her some questions if it’ll make you feel any better. Just don’t try mixing business with pleasure kid, it never works.”
“No time,” Pelleas said simply. “Captain Leaf just threw us cadets a 'surprise exam'. Once I get home, I’m having myself a nice shower and getting right back to work.”
“Well good luck with that, I’ll be looking through the case notes to see if there’s anything we’ve missed,” Flyntt smiled, knowing he’d actually spend the evening trying to woo Aella.
3
“Oh, dear, how is he doing?” Annabelle Orange asked Primrose as the girls returned to the grove.
“He’s alright,” Prim said quietly. “I’ll probably go back later. I don’t want to leave him alone right now. He needs me.”
“Of course, but I’m sure he also needs rest. Come, have the day off, or go back out with Snow Storm if you wish… Oh! That reminds me…” The motherly mare turned to her adopted daughter. “Mosley would like to see you in his study concerning a… food fight?”
“Crap, busted,” Prim whispered to her friend. “Well, he can’t get that upset, right? I mean, we sold out pretty quickly. Money is money, right?”
“He’s waiting,” Mrs. Orange said impatiently. Snow Storm grimaced and scooted inside.
“Mrs.Orange, I was partially responsible for this,” Prim admitted. “I should probably take some of the blame too…”
“Now, now, you have too much else to worry about.”
“But… but… ah, alright. I’m just gonna go back to work. I’ll be back later, seeya Mrs. Orange.”
* * *
“Come in,” Mr.Orange said solemnly to the hesitant mare. She could feel her breath catch as she stepped inside his grandiose study.
“Snow Storm, we do not associate with the Rind family. Do you know why?”
She wrote down, ‘Because their tangerines smell like sweat and sadness?’
“No. Because the oranges they sell are an insult to our craft,” he said sternly “We do not acknowledge their existence. As far as I am concerned, we are the only source of citrus in the city, Is that understood?”
‘Of course. Although we did sell out fairly quickly. Half of the city shelled out their bits in order to pelt the Rinds with our superior firepower.’
“Such a waste…” Mr.Orange sighed. “It’s about more than money, you know. Without our oranges, the city would have one less healthy option at snack time, one less source of vitamin C… I don’t want you using our fruit as ‘firepower’ again, do you understand? We’re above that. If the Rinds want to be children, let them, but do not debase yourself like that again. Remember, you’re representing our family out there.”
‘I think they’ll be leaving us alone, now, anyway.’
“Well if they do start any trouble, just walk away. You’ll look like the more mature party, and the Rinds will look like the pathetic children they are.”
Snow Storm nodded. ‘Is there anything else, dad?’
“No, just leave this grumpy old stallion to his work.”.
As she walked out, a note fluttered down onto the sire’s head. He had to smile in spite of himself as he read it.
‘The city said they hadn’t seen an orange fight that intense since you worked the cart.’
4
Pelleas sat by Bolt Buck’s bedside, patiently awaiting the stallion’s awakening. The nurses had all squawked something about ‘visiting hours’, but his position as a city guard, even a lowly cadet, managed to get him places.
“Urgh…” the stallion moaned, blinking as he awoke. He looked at the armored Fulake with confusion in his eyes before reaching for a scrap of paper with his one good hoof.
“Who are you?” he asked. “You with the Guards?”
“Yes, I am,” Pelleas responded softly. “And I’m having a hard time figuring out why the Mare do Well attacked you. That is who attacked you, yes?”
With some effort the stallion managed to shake his head before writing a note. It was easier this way.
'No, it wasn’t her. I owe a debt to the mob, and they weren’t happy that didn’t have their money, so they sent one of their guys after me. They dressed em’ like the Mare do Well so ponies would think she was chasing a crook or something. That way nobody’d call the Guard before they’d finished. I’ve seen the real thing, and they weren’t nearly as graceful. Costume wasn’t all that convincing up close, either.'
Pelleas read this over several times, frowning hard. It was a load of crap, he knew. This guy looked too pathetic to be involved with some petty gang. Surely even the Red Hoof had better standards…
“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked at last. “Because if the Mare do Well attacked you, that’s a violent assault that can be pinned against her.”
'All I know is that the gang had a reason to attack me, and she didn’t. Heck, she’s supposed to be one of the good guys, right? So why would she attack a random pony in his home?'
Pelleas sighed, only skimming over the note. This pony would only become a broken record, no matter how many times he asked. For all the cadet knew, Bolt Buck was probably convinced his own self. Pelleas might’ve even believed it… if this criminal hadn’t spun into the tale about another pony dressing up in the costume. From what little he knew of fashion and design, mostly from his… eccentric brother, that suit was almost impossible to replicate with such detail.
'Sorry, but have you asked everything you needed from me? Because my girl’s gonna be here any minute, and after that you’ll probably not be able to get a word in edgewise.'
“That’s all I’ve got. Just get better soon, whether you deserve it or not,” the young Fulake said, walking out. He gave Primrose a passing nod as he left, a plan formed in his mind.
Primrose returned only a cursory nod, her mind focused mainly on her bruised-up coltfriend. “Buck? You doing any better today?” she asked, walking into the room with a fresh bouquet of flowers to, hopefully, brighten Bolt Buck’s day. “I got your note. You said you had something to tell me?”
He pointed at the door and swiped his hoof, mimicking closing it.
Prim shut the door and sat down next to him.
“What is it?” she asked.
He began to write. And though the note itself was only a few words, it was still the longest one he’d ever write in his life.
5
There was a loud knocking on Snow Storm’s room door. She grunted internally, rolling out of bed, disgruntled at having her nap interrupted. Who could possibly need to bug her now…?
Prim stood in the doorway, her expression dark and terrible. She handed the note Bolt Buck had given her, and huffed.
Snow glanced it over, looked at Primrose and, much to the mare’s surprise and confusion, hardly reacted at all to it.
“So you did know,” Prim said at last. “And I guess that means that you’re… well, not that it matters. You got him. I wanted to leave my mark on him too, but he was in such a bad shape I really couldn’t have hurt him any more… my first glimpse of happiness ever since Frosty died, and it was a lie,” she said bitterly, ripping the note from Snow Storm’s clutch and crumpling it into a ball.
‘It’s fine. He probably brainwashed you, that’s all. Caught a vulnerable mare. You were just icing on his cake, weren’t you?'
“No!” Prim shouted at once, to both of their surprise. “I mean… I loved him. It wasn’t brainwashing at all. He really was a sweetheart, when I first met him. Kind, and gentle… I know it’s a terribly selfish thing to ask, but please don’t kill him. Break him, yell at him, do anything else you want, but please…” Prim said, ashamed.
‘He’ll keep. I have a new problem now...’
“What’s that? I swear I won’t tell a soul, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Snow Storm cocked an eyebrow at the mare, as if to say ‘How can I believe that?’
“What choice do you have? I already know, and there’s only one way to make sure I keep my mouth shut… and I’m sure you wouldn’t do that.”
‘I would suggest you go home and live your life normally, and forget all about what’s going to happen in the coming weeks.’
“Alright, but should I resign? I mean, if having me around would complicate matters maybe I should just keep my distance…”
‘You’re nothing but a grove picker. Plus the boys would miss you.’
“Alright then. By the way, are you done with Buck? Or will you finish him for good once you’ve taken down the rest?”
‘I’m angry, not heartless. He’s learned his lesson, I think.’
“Okay then. Guess I’ll need to find a new coltfriend… and don’t worry. Next time I’ll introduce you as soon as I’ve met him.” Prim tried to smile, but it was a weak attempt.
6
A cloudless night settled onto Manehattan, leaving the millions of stars to twinkle brilliantly and a full moon to shine brightly far above. The moon’s rays mixed and mingled with the endless streets and alleyways, making the city look almost like one huge maze.
Pelleas was dead-tired on his feet tonight, shuffling along next to Lieutenant Flyntt. Every yawn he smothered had gotten closer and closer to escaping. It’d be an especially sad sight for a Fulake to be tired in the evenings.
“Kid, here. Have a drink on me, it’ll keep you going for a few hours,” Flyntt said, handing the cadet a flask of Moon Apple Cider.
“Sir we can’t-” That yawn finally escaped him whole. “-drink on duty.”
“Then consider this a break. If you don’t relax soon, you’ll pass out. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it’d be for a Fulake to see seen sleeping at night? You’d be a laughing stock!”
“I’d be fine if the Captain wasn’t having us cadets working overtime. Sir, that Mare do Well needs to be unmasked.” And I need that promotion to Full Guard.
“Cadet, you’ve read the rule book back to front, haven’t you?” The older Fulake asked his comrade.
“Yes, sir. Why?”
“So if I order you to drink this cider and relax for awhile…?” Flyntt said, handing him the drink.
Pelleas sighed with a hint of amusement. “I think you know the rulebook better than I do, just to find ways around it.”
“We’ll make up for tonight by working on the weekend,” Flyntt said draining his backup flask. Always carry two drinks! That was one of the great lessons his own mentor had taught him. “But trust me, you’ll be thanking me later. Spend too long on the same case without a break and you’ll burn out. Happened to me all the time when I was starting out.”
“You? An energetic young upstart with delusions of grandeur?” Pelleas barked out a laugh. “I’d’ve paid to see that.”
“More like a cocky little brat desperate to prove himself,” Flyntt said with a smirk.
“But you made Lieutenant… not that there’s much competition in the Night Guard,” Pelleas pointed out. If he had to guess, there was about a one-to-three ratio between Night Guards and Day Guards.
“There was less competition when I was a cadet. Times have changed, kid. Don’t think you’ll reach Lieutenant as easily as I did…”
“We had even less Night Guards? I mean, I know it’s a suicide-shift for regular ponies, but we still got some. I even heard Captain Leaf preferred it over daytime.”
“Captain Leaf… you remind me of him, actually. We started together as cadets, and he had the same kinda drive you do. Confidentially, I think you’re Captain material, but don’t tell the others that. They still see you as the greenhorn of the group. Prove them wrong.”
“I doubt I’ll ever actually make it.” Pelleas swirled his flask of rapidly-draining cider. “I mean, I wouldn’t let myself kiss the Red Hoof’s flank like Leaf does.”
“The thing about good and evil, kid, is that it’s rarely clear cut. The Red Hoof’s a bastard, sure, but he keeps a lot of dangerous ponies in line. He’s the reason we don’t have hundreds of little gangs warring all over the place. He’s a necessary evil. Heck, you ever hear of the Luna’s Shadow, or the Order of Assassins?”
“I can’t believe the Princesses would sanction such things,” Pelleas grunted, beginning to sway in his seat.
“Sanction!? Just look in the name! Princess Luna herself formed them, way back in the day. They come in handy as Luna’s eyes and ears in the underground. They’re used as spies and whatnot.
“Someone oughta clean out the lot of ‘em! But look at me talk, sir. I can’t even unmask one crazy mare…”
“Like I said kid, good and evil aren’t as obvious as you might think. Not all the time. Maybe by the time this is all over you’ll finally get that,” Flyntt mused.
“I didn’t mention this yet, sir, but that night at the apartment… I saw the Mare do Well. We made eye contact. I know she attacked that stallion… but I can’t figure out why.”
“Really now…? Hmm. Does he have a criminal record?”
“That,” said Pelleas, playing with his now-empty flask, “is an excellent question. But he’s not willing to talk to me.”
“Tell him we have him with possession of Diamond Eyes- which is technically true, since a small amount was found in his apartment- and that if he doesn’t start talking we’ll arrest him for it the second he’s recovered. All by the book, and I’m as sure he’s withholding information as you are.”
“You mean… blackmail?” Pelleas blinked in surprise, shooting his superior a confused glance.
“Well if he’s got information that could save lives… c’mon, it’s hardly the worst thing that could be done. Rumour was that a few centuries ago, the Guards were pretty corrupt. They’d interrogate, even torture in the name of keeping the city safe. Compared to that, a little blackmail is nothin’.”
The door of a nearby bar exploded open. Pelleas and Flyntt looked at each other before rushing into the tavern. A stallion stumbled in, panting heavily, clearly shaking. He pointed to the two Fulake. “You… guards...?” He gasped, trying to catch his breath.
“What’s the matter citizen? You look like you’re running from someone,” Flyntt said, taking on the authoritative tone he so rarely used.
“Stallion… down the block…” He coughed, wincing at the burning-hot stitch in his side. By Celestia, how long had it been since he’d run so hard? Tomorrow he’d hit the gym for sure. “Attacked… Mare do Well… saw it happen!”
“Damnit, c’mon kid there’s no time to lose!” Flyntt barked at Pelleas as they took off in the direction the stallion had pointed. Hell, we’d’ve stumbled upon this anyways. Within minutes they saw the masked vigilante attacking a stallion.
“Stop!” Flyntt yelled, his voice booming. “As a Lieutenant of the Night Guard, I demand that you cease this cruelty on an innocent citizen at once, or you will officially be declared a public menace!”
The Mare do Well seemingly ignored his call, only stopping her attack when they saw the stallion shake his head. Faintly, they heard him whimper, “I’m not Facade! I’m Mort, a Bricklayer!”
“I told you, kid. She’s a maniac, going after anyone she just doesn’t like,” Flyntt muttered. “You mighta been on to something. Sooner she’s unmasked and taken off the streets, the better.”
* * *
Snow Storm held ‘Mort’ there a moment, highly aware of the crowd that had gathered around them. She had meant to chase him into an alleyway or something of that nature, but much to her chagrin, he didn’t run. In fact, he even smiled when he had seen her.
After seeing that grin, she couldn’t help herself. She’d smacked him across the face.
Now she tapped the piece of paper with ‘Facade’ written on it, and pointed to him again. There was no chance he was getting out of this one!
“I don’t know who that is,” he said simply. There was nothing in his voice to suggest he was lying. Her confidence wavered for a moment.
Why isn’t he even afraid!? She quickly scribbled a note, not even bothering to subdue him. If her reading of his body language was correct, he wasn’t even thinking of running. ‘Prove it.’
“B-but how? I don’t know anything about him,” he said, again seeming more confused than scared.
‘Five years and seventeen days ago, you and three others attacked two innocent ponies on a dark street. Remember now?’ Her composure was slipping even as she wrote this - the guy was either that dumb, that good of an actor… or the wrong pony entirely.
“No, no you’ve got the wrong guy. I’ve never attacked anyone!. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I’m not this ‘Facade’ guy, I swear it’s the truth.”
Snow Storm became flushed beneath the suit. The heat rose so quickly to her face, she could almost feel herself passing out. It really is the wrong one… she thought, sweating. Hell, that smile…
“Please let me go, this is all just a mistake,” he managed at last.
She nodded, reaching her hoof down to help him back up. For a moment, she thought about writing out an apology, but what good would that do? It’d only look hollow, insincere with no tone to back it up.
He tried to swallow, succeeded in only making himself cough, then walked away, feeling the intense stares of those around them weigh down on him as much as the mare. To her relief, he spoke.
“It was just a misunderstanding. It happens, and she didn’t hurt me,” he said before slinking off quietly.
“Oh no,” a burly stallion from the crowd said, grabbing the other by the shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere, buddy.”
“H-huh? But I didn’t even… she got the wrong guy!” he protested. Snow Storm braced herself, in case things turned ugly. Not that they weren’t already, with her silent accusations.
“Here’s the thing, buddy.” The stallion grinned broadly, hoisting Mort up onto his back. “You survived the Mare do Well! Drinks are on the house tonight!” The crowd cheered at this, creating at first a cacophony of noise that slowly formed into regular chants of ‘Mort! Mort! Mort!’
“Well alright…?” he said, being carried off with the majority of the crowd. Snow Storm smiled a silly grin beneath the mask in spite of herself. Wonders apparently never ceased in this city - first she had beaten up a random stranger, he forgave her, and now he was a celebrity. Am I dreaming or dru-
The thought was cut short when she spotted, yet again, those two guards, who were staring straight back at her. Ah, crap, she thought, and took off, bolting down the street.
“You! Stop!” Lieutenant Flyntt yelled out, knowing it was futile. He huffed in aggravation. They never stop. “Kid, take the skies!”
Pelleas nodded, then launched himself into the air. From above the rooftops he could just make out a shadowy figure leaping away at great speed.
Damn, she’s pretty capable for an earth pony, wings or not, he thought to himself, impressed at her agility.
She could feel his eyes on her as she galloped, and decided to see just how far he could go. She dove into a crack between buildings, hopping down fire-escapes and back onto the ground, weaving in between the darkened alleys. Can’t see me now, can you Guard?
To her surprise, he was right behind her when she turned around. “These ears aren’t just for show.” He gave her a cheeky grin.
She faltered to a stop, breathing rapidly. Still, it was only one. She could take him, if she had to…
“I’m not here for a fight, or some stupid glory-seeking mission like the other cadets,” he said, standing his ground “If you want to leave, I’ll just say I lost you. I want to prove you can trust me. My name is Pelleas, and I’m a Cadet of the Night Guard.”
She merely stood there, watching him and listening to the other avenues - after all, he could just be stalling for his partner.
“Listen, if you want a friend in the Guard, I’ll be leaving a letter every week at the Post Office. You can use it to check up on everything we’ve learned and- if you feel like sharing anything you know with me, you can reply with the address I’ll leave on the back. Just in case you feel like you have something the Guard could benefit from knowing… oh, and it’ll be entirely anonymous.”
She scribbled a quick note before deciding to run, trusting that he wouldn’t follow. ‘I work alone. Don’t try to stop me.’
Pelleas sighed, stuffing the note into his armor and returning to Flyntt.
“Sorry sir, lost her up there. Underestimated how fast she’d be…”
“Slippery, eh? Don’t sweat it kid. Now come on, we’ve got drinks to finish.”
“Frankly, sir…” Pelleas grinned, wiping his brow. “After all that nonsense, I could use a harder one.”