//------------------------------//
// 14-The Footsteps of a Ghost 
// Story: A Repentant Draconequus on the Equestrian Throne 
// by DungeonMiner 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 14

Rarity had come a long way to talk about this.

The second she saw the article, she had closed up shop, grabbed Spike, and bought two tickets for the earliest train to Canterlot.

She had not spoken a word, had not greeted a soul, had not even explained herself to Spike, who remained perfectly confused as they rode the train car.

She did not pass go, she did not collect $200, she went directly to jail—I mean, Canterlot.

Once there, armed with a handful of directions, she marched straight to Fancy Pants’ mansion, climbed up the stairs, walked into Twilight’s room and asked one question.

“Was this you?” she asked, throwing a newspaper onto her balcony table.

Twilight blinked. “Well...nice to see you too, Rarity.”

“Please, Twilight,” she said. “I must ask you to forgive my little breach in protocol, however, this is very important.”

Twilight gave Rarity a glance. She had never seen her friend once barge into a room, much less speak without saying hello.

This was probably very, very serious.

Twilight picked up the newspaper, and her eyes quickly scanned the front page. “What am I looking for?”

“You’ll see it,” Rarity said simply as Spike found a wall to lean against.

Twilight scanned over the paper, reading about the usual things she had come to expect from Canterlot’s nightlife. Robbery, murder, nothing out of the ordin—

The headline jumped at her. “Mysterious Mare Halts Murder!” The picture of a very familiar silhouette told her far more however, as the sight of the the Mysterious Mare Do Well met her eyes. She blinked, looking at the picture before quickly reading the article.

“So…?” Rarity asked. “Was it you?”

“N-no...no it wasn’t…”

“Twilight,” Rarity said, sitting opposite the mare, “those outfits, my Mare Do Well outfits, were stolen.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t know when,” she said, her voice having dropped to a conspiratol murmur, “all I know is that when I went back to check on some fabric delivers five days ago, they weren’t where I had left them.”

“Five days ago?” Twilight asked

“At least,” Rarity confirmed. “But there was not a sign that anything was wrong, no locks were broken, no windows, it was almost as if a ghost had stolen them.”

The word clicked in Twilight’s head, but she kept her opinion to herself. Instead she turned back to the article. “Well...at least she’s helping ponies.”

“For now,” the fashionista said with disdain. 

Twilight gave her a look.

“Twilight, it’s always the hero that directly breaks the law that you can’t trust.”

Spike furrowed his brow. “What do you mean ‘always?’ H-have you been reading my comic books?”

Rarity harumphed. “Don’t be ridiculous Spike. Nonetheless, my point stands. She may be helping us now, but given time, she might turn on us.”

Twilight said nothing. 

The white unicorn took another look at the lavender mare, and sighed. “Sorry, Darling, I didn’t mean to give you nothing but bad news. Listen, why don’t we go shopping for a little bit today, I’m sure it would do you a world of good.”

Twilight raised her head, and gave a slight smile. “You know...that sounds kinda nice, actually…”


<<<|Ω|>>>


“Alright, guys!” the stallion said, as he watched the rest of the crew move their cargo. “Boss wants all of this back at base within the hour.”

“What are we stealing again?” a stallion asked, heaving a box around on his back.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Heavy, just keep moving.”

Heavy Lifter rolled his eyes before setting the crate down on a cart.

A score of ponies, mostly earth pony stallions, were moving crates from an open warehouse to a cart. Almost no light shone in the wide street between warehouses, leaving only the warm brazier light shining from inside to illuminate the path. 

A hoofful of other ponies, however, did not work, simply standing still with their backs towards the light, and their eyes facing the darkness. One pony in particular, a pegasus with a blue coat, twitched and trembled as he stared into the depths of the night.

The unicorn next to him kept giving him glances, before letting loose the loudest sigh he could manage. “Hey, Twitch, will you cut that out? You’re spooking me.”

“If you knew what was out there, you’d be twitching too,” he mumbled, searching with wide eyes for any sign of...something.

“What’s out there? What are you talking about?”

“It ain’t a good time to be a criminal,” Twitch muttered.

“Are you kidding?” a third thug butted in. “This is the best time to be a criminal! The police are lazy, the Guard is stretched thin, there ain’t nopony to catch us, thanks to the boss.”

Twitch gave a hollow laugh. “Yeah, safe from the guard. It’s her you need to worry about.”

“Her?” a guard two ponies down asked.

“Haven’t you heard?” the pegasus asked. “She calls herself the Mare Do Well. 

“She’s a ghost. Everywhere and nowhere at once. You can’t hit her, can’t stop her, can’t cut her, can’t bleed her, but she will come after you. Some say that she’s the ghost of a mare that was murdered. Other’s say she’s an ancient spirit of revenge, awoken from her slumber now that the blood of the innocents call out for justice.

“Personally, I don’t know and I don’t care what she is. All I can say is if I see her, I’m running, and I pray she’ll let me go…”

The stallion three guards down laughed. “What? I’m sorry, but do you know how crazy you sound?”

Twitch didn’t even so much as look back at him. 

“Please...’Mare Do Well’ that’s a joke if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Ooooooh! Look out for the Mare Do Well! She’s coming to get you!” Another thug laughed.

“Oooooh! I’m not really here! Or real at all for that matter!”

Laughs broke out among the guards, and chuckles echoed in the night.

Twitch stopped twitching.

“It’s nothing to be scared of Twitch,” the unicorn said. “It’s just some dumb story.”

Twitch did not answer.

“You hear me Twitch?”

Again Twitch did not answer.

“Twitch?”

The pegasus turned, and the guard speaking to him froze.

His eyes had been replaced with two orbs of pure white. His mouth opened and his tongue lolled lazily about in his head. 

“The buck?!” the thug cried, falling onto his back, and into a green mist which hugged the ground and snuck past the guard.

And then Twitch spoke, but when he spoke, it was not his voice.

It was a mare’s.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night.”

The fog became thicker, and the gathered criminals found themselves surrounded b y it, unable to see even five hooves in front of themselves.

“I am the ghost that dances in the moonlight.”

“Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck!”

Twitch was gone, completely lost in the fog. 

And then, once every pony there had their vision obscured, and their sense clouded, the final ultimatum went out. 

“I am Mare Do Well!”

A powerful punch smashed through a thug’s face, knocking him unconscious instantly.

“It’s her!” A terrified cry went out. “She’s here for our souls!”

The unicorn thug scrambled in the fog, unable to see, but able to hear.

The flash and ring of magic, the cries of pained ponies, the snapping of bones all sounded in his ears as the Mare Do Well did her work.

“Get her! Get her! Bring her down!”

He saw her for a brief second, a flash of purple in a world of green. 

Up came her foreleg, just in time to block the large wing blades of one of his fellow guards.

She did not even gasp.

“Why won’t you die?!” He heard, before the fog claimed the Mare Do Well once more.

“She’s over here!” another pony cried, and the unicorn thug was quickly treated to the sight of Mare Do Well again, this time on the far side of the cloud.

He blinked.

There was no way she could’ve crossed that much space in so short a time…

Another panicked cry went up.

And then there was silence.

Not a word was spoken in the mist.

There was not a sound. 

“T-Twitch?” the unicorn called.

No answer.

“Iron?”

Still no answer.

“Jade?”

Nothing answered him.

“W-Where are you?”

And then he heard a whisper. The whisper of the North wind that sent a chill down his spine. 

“Right here.”

He screamed.


<<<|Ω|>>>


Celestia looked at the mirror with a long-suffering sigh. 

The stress was getting to her.

She could tell, not because of the bloodshot veins running through her eyes, the dark bags that hung beneath them, or even the fact that she had begun to wear a track through her very expensive rug.

No, there was something else that told her. It told her straight, and it told her true.

Her mane.

Not in six hundred years had she had a bad mane day, yet, here it was, a tangle in her otherwise ethereal mane. 

It was the final warning sign. 

When your mane become saturated in as much magical energy as Celestia gave off everyday, the magick-conductive properties become strong enough to transform hair into a half-mana/physical object hybrid. In the case of a mane, that makes it nearly impossible to be caught, tangled, curled, frizzy, or otherwise a mess.

Yet there it was.

An undeniable tangle sat right there.

Now many a thaumaturgist would comment how this particular tangle most probably represented a metaphysical knot in Celestia’s own magicka flow, which are typically caused by stress and long periods of annoyance. A magical cyst, if you will.

Celestia took a deep breath, a released it slowly. Another inhale, another exhale. Then, with a golden glow, her magick took a hold of her mane, and she slowly began to work the knot away.

It took her longer than she had wanted, but finally the knot came free, a temporary solution to a deeper problem, but it would suffice for now.

She sighed. Things were going very wrong, very fast. More and more crime was popping up in the city, and it showed no sign of stopping, and with the constant reports of the more violent crimes coming in from the Guard, Celestia soon found herself swamped. 

This was why the police force had been made to begin with. The guard had a responsibility to report to her, the Police Force had their own bureaucracy to help with all of these papers. They were the ones who took care of the regular crime, and only brought the more serious crimes up to the guard. 

There was really only one thing that had brought any good news to her ears of late, and that was the news of this Mare Do Well character.

Finally, there was somepony out there that was doing something. 

Of course, if she ever was caught, She’d have to be brought in for acting outside the law. 

Then again, if there was ever a meetup, Celestia could probably deputize the heroine.

Then, just for a second, she felt the room get colder.

A talon rested on her wither, and she heard Harmony speak. “Celestia, Dear. What troubles you so?”

She tensed. “H-Harmony?”

The talon began to massage her back. “Relax, Tia, Dear. Relax, and tell me all your troubles. Perhaps I can help?” he said, his voice dripping with honey.

The muscles in her back began to loosen, and her body began to relax.

“I...I…” she began, as the talon began it’s work.

The lion paw joined the talon, and Celestia began to melt under the Draconequus’ ministrations.

“It’s...it’s Twilight.”

“What about dear, Miss Twilight?” Harmony asked.

“She’s...Spike’s told me she’s gotten worse. She’s found somepony to take her in, and she’s shut everyone else out. All the work that I’ve put into making her friends has been completely reversed. She’s hardly seen her friends, she won’t talk to me, and Fancy Pants, the stallion that’s taken her in, has been telling me she spends most of her day either taking care of her son, mourning at the graveyard, or drinking her troubles away.

“Not to mention all the crime, and the way Luna’s been acting lately...” Celestia said with a sigh. “I just don’t know what to do…”

Harmony gave a wicked smile. “Oh, you poor, poor, thing...It seems to me that maybe your student has abandoned you.”

Celestia shivered at the thought while a dagger of ice plunged into her heart.

“It’s a shame that this has happened. Again.”

The knife twisted.

“But surely,” Harmony hissed, “it can’t be all bad. There must be some good news. Something that you can hang on to?”

“W-well...there is this Mare Do Well mare.”

A scowl flashed across Harmony’s face.

But only for a moment.

“Oh? The vigilante? That has the making of a scandal…”

“She’s the only hope I have right now,” Celestia explained. 

Harmony nodded. “Yes, yes, I understand. Now, listen to me, Tia. Hold on to her, hold onto this Mare Do Well. If she is your last hope, then you must put your faith in her.”

Celestia nodded.

“Put your faith in her, Celestia, because if you do not, then you will despair, and if you fall far enough, you will not have strength to climb back out.”

The Solar Princess nodded. Yes. Yes, she needed Mare Do Well to succeed. They needed to meet, and soon.

Harmony nodded, and retreated from the room, as silent as a mouse. 

But once the door closed behind him, his wicked grin returned. “Yes, Celestia, put your faith in the little hero. Put your dreams in her so that I may crush them.”


<<<|Ω|>>>


Sunny Sentinel was surprised to see the EUPPF on the scene of the crime. Pleasantly surprised, even. Here they were, doing their job, rather than forcing the Guard to do it for them. He found himself wondering if there was hope for the Police Force yet.

This hope was quickly shattered once he heard Commissioner Golden Shield roaring his head off. 

“I want her in chains!” he screamed. “I want that mare in the deepest, darkest dungeon we have!”

“Something the matter, Golden?” a voice whispered before a thestral formed from a cloud of mist.

Golden Shield jumped at the sound, and Sunny found himself on the brink of smiling as Twinkle Drop joined him.

Golden Shield swore as he spun to see the half-vampony behind him. “Yes, something’s wrong! We have a criminal on our hooves!”

“A criminal?” Twinkle asked, as Sunny approached. “Really? ‘Cause I count, like, twenty,” she said, motioning to the warehouse behind them where twenty-five ponies—each of various types, colors, and builds—lay bound in tight rope, ready for delivery.

“Not them you idiot!” Golden Shield growled, before throwing a letter at the thestral. “Her!” 

Twinkle didn’t move, but Sunny did pick up the letter, and opened it. “Have a drink on me,” he read aloud. “Signed ‘M’”

“Oh!” Twinkle said in recognition. “That’s probably that Mare Do Well chick that saved you the other day.”

“She’s a menace!” Shield roared. 

“A menace?” Twinkle asked. “The mare saved my coltfriend, how’s she a menace?”

“Ever heard of a vigilante? Morons who take the law into their own hooves?” He asked, spittle flying with every angry word. “This mare is exactly that.”

Twinkle growled in response, her fangs showing as she bared her teeth. “Well maybe, if somepony did their job, she wouldn’t have to take the law into her own hooves.”

Sunny took that as his cue, stepping between the two. “Sir, with all due respect, chasing after a single mare who delivered twenty-five ponies in the hooves of the police hardly seems worth the effort.”

Golden Shield growled. “That’s what you think, but there’s the problem with your little thought there. She’s helping us now, and we can’t trust her to keep helping us. Not to mention the possibility of somepony seeing this moron and deciding to copycat her. We don’t need that.”

Sunny thought differently. 

Twinkle Drop brought herself up, laying across Sunny's back. “I don’t know, a little help in the area where you’ve been slacking would do us good.”

The commissioner leveled a glare at her. “And that’s why I’m the commissioner of the EUPPF, and you’re a bloodsucking Dusk Watch numbskull.”

Sunny’s eyes narrowed. “Do not say that again,” he hissed.

The commissioner grinned, as the thought quite obviously crossed his head.

He opened his mouth to give an ill-advised quip, when suddenly an officer called him. “Sir! We’ve found out what they were trying to take.”

“I don’t care what the thugs were after!” Golden Shield barked. “I want the Mare Do Well!”

“Good luck with that,” Twinkle said, a smile forming on her lips. “From my preliminary sweep over the scene, I found no traces of any teleportation magic, no conjuration, no illusion, but there is a magical signature all over the place, so we’re dealing with a pretty high-up magic user. And of course, if she’s that good, then she’s not going to be found.” She paused, and gave the commissioner a gaze through half-lidded eyes. “But what do I know? I’m just a bloodsucking Dusk Watch numbskull.”

Golden Shield glared at her.

She smiled back.

Golden growled before turning back to the scene. “Get me the magic division! I need an analysis of all the spells that were used here in the last three days!”

As the commissioner walked away, Sunny smiled.


<<<|Ω|>>>


Fancy Pants and Fleur both walked the city streets. It was getting dark, too dark for Fancy’s liking, but his wife had put her hoof down.

“I am not going to live in fear of every shadow that crosses my path, Fancy. And neither should you. It’s not befitting. Now, we are going to this opera, and we are going tonight!”

The theater was practically empty.

Now the two of them were making their way towards the graveyard to pick up Twilight. 

Fancy swore that mare would be the death of him. She had gone from drowning her sorrows to spending the day on a therapy session with the gravekeepers. 

She had even taken to bringing her son along.

It wouldn’t be so bad under normal circumstances, but the streets were not safe enough for staying out so late.

Speaking of.

“Come on, Fleur, I’d like to hurry, please.”

“Oh, calm down, Fancy, you may think otherwise, but a thief is not hiding in every shadow.”

Fancy didn’t answer that.

Fleur walked, tall and proud, down the abandoned streets, never once turning her head to search the shadows as she confidently made her way. 

Fancy was a little less confident.

They took a left, heading down a small street that Fancy had walked a hundred times before. But this time…

They didn’t see them until they were halfway down the street. The empty lane was almost deserted and covered in shadow, half-hidden by darkness. The wind whistled in the empty street between the buildings, and then that’s when the couple spied the herd of shady-looking ponies heading towards them.

Fancy felt his heart began to race once he saw the flash of metal along one of the thug’s wings.

Fleur’s voice was calm and collected the entire time she spoke. “Fancy, we might want to take a detour.”

He took a sharp and sudden right.

Down an alley.

He instantly wished he had taken another left.

“Keep walking, Fleur,” he said urgently, pulling his wife along with a slight magic tug.

An earth pony got in front of them.

Fancy Pants was quick to turn around.

The other stallions were there, waiting for him.

Fancy Pants swallowed.

The stallions began to close in on them. “Looks like we’ve got a good catch,” a pegasus said.

Fancy Pants pushed his wife to the side, and against the wall, trying to get between her and the thugs. “E-evening, Gentlecolts, can I help you?”

“You can,” the pegasus said with a smirk, before flashing the wing blade hidden in his feathers. “Let’s start with the mare’s jewelry.”

Fleur nodded, and began to remove the pearls around her neck.

“Faster, lady,” the pegasus boss said.

The necklace came loose, and she handed it over.

The pegasus smiled, and threw it to a nearby unicorn. “Thank you for the assistance,” the pegasus said, before he hid the blade again. 

The pegasus turned to leave, before stopping. “Oh...wait…one more thing.”

Fancy Pants swallowed again, his muscles tensing.

“You’re Fancy Pants, right?” the pegasus said. “That’s a bit of a shame...you see, my employer is willing to pay a lot of money to see you put down.”

The blade came back out.

“Nothing personal. It’s just business.”

The pegasus took one step. 

And then the world erupted into flame.

Both ends of the alleyway were blocked off by a wall of fire, and the thugs were quickly thrown into a panic.

Fancy Pants moved, shielding his wife from whatever was about to happen.

“The buck! What’s going on?!” the pegasus screamed.

And then the thugs froze as a raspy, yet powerful voice spoke. 

“Leave them be.”

The ponies all looked up, to the top of one of the buildings that formed the alley.

And what Fancy saw made his jaw drop.

A silver, translucent, armored stallion stood there, bearing down at the thugs as a silver sword hung next to him.

The thugs looked up in horror.

And then the ghost leapt down.

He landed between Fancy and thugs without so much as a sound, the sword glittering in the firelight. 

The pegasus stared at the Silver Stallion with wide, fear-filled eyes. “Y-you…”

“Leave them be,” the ghost repeated, his voice sounding like the whistling wind. 

The pegasus stared at the armored ghost, before lashing out at him. “Get back! Get back, do you hear me?!”

The blade passed through the ghost’s throat without so much as a grunt.

The Silver Stallion stood, unimpressed. 

The pegasus began to shake at the apparition before him, before leaping into the air. “Get him! Get him!” he squealed, sounding not unlike a young filly.

The thugs looked between themselves, before looking at the ghost before them.

The ghost’s sword floated before him. 

The wall of fire fell, and the specter spoke once more. “Leave.”

The thugs ran.

“Get him, you cowards!” the pegasus squealed. “Get him! Get him now!”

The ghost looked up at the cowering thief, and the blade came up. “You were warned.”

The blade shot forward, catching the pegasus in the wing.

He screamed.

And then he fell.

The Silver Stallion then turned back to face the unicorn couple. 

Fancy Pants stared at him with wide eyes.

The unblinking, blindingly white eyes of the ghost stared back at him. Then he spoke, and when he spoke, the windy raspiness of his voice disappeared, and it sounded as strong as it had in life.

Fancy Pants recognized it instantly.

“Take care of mine,” he said, “and I’ll take care of yours.”


<<<|Ω|>>>


Orion was fond of a few things.

He loved his blanky, he enjoyed squashed peas, and he absolutely adored naps. He also loved his family. He loved his dada, even though he hadn’t seen him in a while, and he also loved his mama.

It really made him worried then, when his mama paced. 

“It’s getting late,” she muttered. “Too late. They should’ve been here by now.”

Grim and Ghastly shared a look as their guest began to wear a track through their carpet.

Ghastly spoke first. “It’s prob’bly notin’, Mrs. Sparkl’. Mr. Fancy prob’bly runnin’ late is all.”

Twilight shook her head. “He’s been too worried about me to run late. Something must have gone wrong.”

Grim shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, love. Not yet, leastways.”

Twilight paused in her pacing holding her son close to her. “Look, you don’t understand. Fancy Pants has been—”

Whatever else she had to say was immediately cut off, as the door to Grim and Ghastly’s little hut was blown in by a disheveled unicorn.

Fancy Pants locked bloodshot eyes with his unicorn charge, and immediately rushed over to her, monocle flying in the wind behind him. “Mrs. Sparkle! Mrs. Sparkle, are you alright?!”

Twilight looked at the unicorn worriedly. “Um...yes, I’m fi—”

“Are you hurt? Injured? Inconvenienced in any way?!”

“Um…”

“Was it them?!” he asked, pointing at Grim and Ghastly, accusingly.

Fleur De Lis stepped quietly into the room behind him, a string of pearls around her neck.

“Uh…”

“I swear, if either of you have so much as touched her, I’ll—”

“What is going on?!” Twilight asked.

Fancy turned to her, and blinked.

Slowly.

And then, as if suddenly becoming aware of his unsightly shape, he coughed, and began to gather himself. Running a hoof through his mane, and replacing his monocle, he then turned his attention to the purple unicorn and spoke. “Mrs. Sparkle, as of now, your safety and well being are my top priorities.”

Twilight blinked before rolling her eyes. “Mr. Pants, please, Spike’s contract—”

“This is not about Mr. The Dragon,” he said, interrupting her.

Twilight paused.

“Mrs. Sparkle,” Fancy Pants said again, hesitating for a second. “Tonight, I spoke with a dead pony, and he told me, in no uncertain terms, that I am to keep you safe.”

Twilight blinked. “What?”

Fleur spoke up this time, getting close to the unicorn mare to whisper in her ear. “Twilight, have you heard of the new ghost story, the Silver Stallion?”

Twilight’s eyes went wide, and her head spun to look at the other mare. “You…”

“We spoke with him, yes,” Fancy said, “and, in life, he had an affectionate eye on you.”

Twilight’s head was spinning.

They…

They had spoken to him…

“He wants us to keep you safe, Mrs. Sparkle.”

Her legs were going weak.

“And I plan to do that and more. Now come along, we need to get you home.”

Twilight wasn’t sure how she got back to Fancy Pants’ mansion. Nor was she sure how she got into bed, but as she stared up at the darkness hiding the ceiling of her room, she knew two things. 

The Silver Stallion was Alan.

And he wanted her alive.

And that meant far, far more than she realized.


--------------------------------


Alright guys, so I have some news.

“Oh that doesn’t sound good.”

What? Oh! No, no, it’s good news.

“Whew.”

So, I have heard the cries of a select few, and I want them to know I have heard. Something is going to happen, and it is going to happen much sooner than it used to be. 

“Huh?” 

I was able to condense some chapters so that hope is closer on the horizon and there will be less Twilight moping. 

“Oh! Cool!”

Indeed. Of course, this is a two-fold thing. I may be writing some very long chapters in the future, but this will also mean that they might be further apart.

“The Writer’s Equilibrium.”

I don’t think that’s a thing.

“It is now!”

Well, anyways, guys. Hope you enjoy, and I hope you’re getting excited.

“Be sure to comment!”

Bye!