//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two 
// Story: A Shadow Over Ponyville 
// by Mr Darcy 
//------------------------------//


A Shadow Over Ponyville

Chapter Two



Following the disappearance of Bon-Bon, Heartstrings and I grew much closer than we had ever been. I could not account for her sudden warmth, but it is likely it had something to do with the way she had opened up to me regarding the events that had transpired in the Hoofstep house, which had, after all, been the last time she had seen her best friend. I did my best to include her in most everything my group did, and though she never fully became 'one of us', so to speak, we were fond of her, and she of us. But if Lyra Heartstrings was fond of me, it would not be inaccurate to say she was positively enamored of Hoofstep. I sometimes felt her friendship with my acquaintances and I was merely a way to pass the time before she could be with Hoofstep again. Some ponies attributed this attachment to Hoofstep as Heartstrings' way of replacing the hole left by Bon-Bon, but all were happy she had found someone to help her overcome the grief. Indeed, the two became almost as inseparable a pair as Bon-Bon and Lyra had been, in so far as such a thing is possible, especially given how seldom Hoofstep left her house. It was this reluctance to leave her home which resulted in the two spending an extraordinary amount of time at the Hoofstep residence. Before long, Hoofstep's already infrequent outings grew even rarer, till at last they stopped completely. She no longer bothered to go to market, preferring to have Heartstrings do the shopping for the both of them. 

Heartstrings' connection with me waned as she began spending less time with the rest of Ponyville, and more time out at the Hoofstep residence. She never stayed overnight, and she could still be found in town during lunch hour and early morning, but beyond that and her trips to the market, Heartstrings now spent all her time with Hoofstep. When questioned as to what the pair could possibly be doing all day, Heartstrings would only say she was practicing her music with Hoofstep, and that it was very important the two were not interrupted. Most were content to leave it at that, labeling Hoofstep an eccentric loner, and Heartstrings a vulnerable girl who had been drawn in during a moment of weakness. For the most part I shared this opinion, and though I was sad to lose a friend, even one as distant as Heartstrings had been, I knew that her life was her own, and if this was how she chose to live it, it was not my place to interfere. I still had my suspicions regarding Lyra Hoofstep. Bon-Bon had last been seen at her house, by none other than Hoofstep and Heartstrings. However, neither of the two had any motive for desiring the death or disappearance of Bon-Bon, and when I lead the search party to Hoofstep's house, we found nothing there to indicate Bon-Bon had met some dreadful fate at the hands of the strange pony. Therefore, I had chosen to put aside my misgivings for the moment, as I could not in good conscience condemn either Hoofstep or Heartstrings without further evidence. 

It was some months after Bon-Bon's funeral service, and as stated previously Hoofstep had withdrawn into complete seclusion, with Heartstrings being only somewhat better at socializing. It was to my amazement then, when Lyra Heartstrings chose to pay a visit to my residence, which also served as Ponyville's library. I of course welcomed her in, and laughingly told her I would be unable to provide refreshments. My home being a library after all, I did my best to protect the books from any potential harm. Heartstrings said she would not be staying long, and had no need of a drink. She surprised me then by saying that Hoofstep had taken an interest in me, of all ponies. Apparently, Heartstrings had told her companion all about my friends and I, and the times we had spent together before Heartstrings had withdrawn from nearly all social encounters. Heartstrings said that her companion had listened patiently to her stories, but clearly showed no interest, at least until I was mentioned. The tales of Nightmare Moon and Discord had perked Hoofstep particularly, said Heartstrings. Now my curiosity was raging, but when Heartstrings mentioned that Hoofstep had invited me to visit, I stumbled. I could not explain it, but every fiber of my being cried out against that notion. Somehow I knew that visiting Hoofstep alone would bring me only harm. I declined the offer, citing the poor health of my assistant. Spike, ever the helpful one, performed a most convincing impression of a deathly-ill dragon at this point. Heartstrings sympathized with me, and turned the conversation to her real purpose in coming. She was looking for a certain book, and if anypony knew where to find it, it would be myself. As it happened, I possessed the very book she sought in the library, and retrieved it for her. I wondered what two ponies, who claimed to be practicing music, would need such a book for, but I allowed Heartstrings to borrow it and sent her off with a pleasant farewell. The book in question was a musty old tome, a history of magic in Equestria, and many of the organizations dedicated to it's study, the most recent of which being Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns.

Though the borrowing of that book certainly piqued my interest in Hoofstep and Heartstrings doings, it alone would not have been enough to spur me to the actions I took later. The true catalyst for my journeys was much darker. It occurred mere days after I lent the book to Heartstrings. It was nighttime, and most ponies were asleep. I had found myself engrossed in a particularly fascinating story prior to bedtime, and was unable to put it down. So it was that I was fully awake, reading by dim candlelight, when there was a crash from downstairs. I leaped to immediate action, taking care to mark my place in the book before dashing down the staircase. As I entered the main room, a shadow caught my eye. Before I could react, something was smashed across my head and I slumped over in a daze. When I had regained my senses, the perpetrator was long gone. A broken window showed their means of ingress and escape, and a hastily erected ladder told me they had been searching for a book before I had interrupted. I knew well the attraction of books, but why anypony would seek to steal one from a library was beyond my means of deduction. I turned on the lights and inspected my shelves, and found no books missing. Whether the culprit had been unable to find what they sought, or whether in their haste to escape detection they forgot to grab it, I did not know. That haste was their undoing, however, for caught in the ladder was a clutch of hair from a mane. Bringing it closer to the light, I was shocked to see it's color perfectly matched the mane of Lyra Heartstrings! Baffled, I began pacing the floor and thinking desperately for an answer to this riddle. It came to me in a flash. The book I had lent Heartstrings days before contained references and descriptions to many other books of magic, some lost to time and others extremely rare. Perhaps she had learned of such a book and had come looking for it here? But why steal it, I thought, when she could have asked? I suspected the influence of Hoofstep in this, and wondered once more as to the pair's activities. What could they be doing that it required such secrecy and criminality? 

I determined then and there not to report Heartstrings' crime. Instead, I would pursue investigations of my own. Firstly, I would need to determine which book she had been looking for. It would have to have been one mentioned in the book I lent her, but I did not have a second copy of that tome for reference. I knew where it could be found, however; the Royal Canterlot Library. I turned off my lights and settled in for an uneasy sleep, and it seemed I had hardly closed my eyes when the morning sun and my assistant woke me. As soon as I was out of bed, I ordered Spike to prepare my saddlebags for travel. He was incredulous of course, but I declined to answer any of his questions, and stubbornly refused to bring him along with me. I told him of the break-in the night before, and made him swear to tell no one, tasking him instead with guarding the library against future attempts at robbery. I did not think Heartstrings would be so foolish as to try it again, but to be sure I also told Spike not to mention I had left for Canterlot. I set out early in the morning, avoiding main roads so as not to be seen by any early-rising ponies. With luck, I would be back before anypony even knew I had left.