//------------------------------// // Week One // Story: Shadow Pony // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Sunflower. That was the filly’s name. No last name, just Sunflower. Fine watched her from afar, always hidden but never having her out of sight for very long. Her routine went like clockwork every day: come morning, she’d visit the flower bed and gather some to sell, in the afternoon she’d go to a public location like a park and sell her flowers while performing tricks, and in the evening she’d trek home with her meager earnings. She never bought anything, instead hiding her bits in a sack under her sign. It wasn’t the best hiding place; Fine discovered it on the second night while she was off using the bathroom. Then again, he was really good at finding things. Every day, the zebra came by to collect what Sunflower supposedly owed him. Sometimes he came in the early morning, waking her up by kicking her sad excuse of a home. Other times he was waiting for her to get back from her little run around town; on those days he was particularly mean. The amount of bits he demanded varied from day to day, but never fell below ten. If she didn’t have enough… well, by the end of the week she had two bruises to fill in for the one that had healed before. On the fourth day, Fine followed Sunflower to a small monument of some local figure, where she began her usual work. She’d yet to go to the same location twice. Fine settled himself down in a shady corner beside the stairs of an office building, doing his best to look like some homeless bum. The deception proved easy, partially because the homeless aspect of it was true. He even slipped over to a nearby construction lot and rolled in the dirt a bit to make himself look the part. Fine kept his eye on Sunflower for the entire day. It wasn’t a pleasant experience; this was a major thoroughfare for the city of New Clusterdam, yet the poor filly earned practically no attention. Ponies were all over the place, hurrying to and fro on their errands and trying to get to this meeting or that store. Most ignored Sunflower entirely, and those who didn’t only shot her disgusted looks. One or two simply averted their eyes and pretended not to notice the dirty, homeless filly offering to sell flowers at their heels. Sunflower proved no less determined here than she had at the other locations, but it did her little good. Fine could see her drive withering with every stranger who gave her the cold shoulder. By noon her attempts to sell flowers had yielded no bits and her enthusiasm had been drained entirely. Fine stared at her, uncaring if anypony saw, as she slumped against the leg of the statue and pouted at her hooves, her yellow mane a deplorable mess. He turned his eyes away, staring at his hooves with a grim frown. If only he could find something to push down his kind heart. The thought almost made him burst out laughing. A serial killer with a kind heart? What would he think of next, time travel? Yet as ridiculous as it sounded, Fine knew better than to discount it. He’d never been mean-spirited, just… unlucky. Woefully unlucky. And now he desperately wanted to keep Sunflower from getting another bruise. He knew getting attached to this filly would be a terrible mistake. Bad things happened around Fine Crime. He’d only be dooming her if he became involved. The unpleasant half of the world had him in its iron grip and would happily snatch up anypony who dared get too close. Then again… perhaps it already had a claw on her. The idea sobered him instantly, replacing his mild amusement with a true conundrum. If he did nothing, Sunflower might remain homeless forever, yet if he acted, she may end up worse. He stared at the sky for a while, pondering this situation and feeling lower than dirt. What was it about Equestria that made things so good for some and so terrible for others? For him it was a mental disorder, but for Sunflower? What had happened to put her in this lowly state? Why did she have to be stuck living under an old sign in a park? Didn’t New Clusterdam have foal services like the rest of Equestria? Though it took nearly an hour of consideration and self-conflict, Fine at last climbed to his hooves and left. He went straight to a nearby hotel, one of the high-rises. A visit to a bathroom gave him the opportunity to wash the dirt away, then he waited until the clerk at the front desk left for lunch to slip behind the counter. The keys were in a locked drawer, but Fine’s attentive watch caught the clerk slipping the key under the cash register. Within seconds, Fine had the spare key to one of the occupied rooms. He took three dozen bits from the register while he was at it. He didn’t like taking so much money from any one place – he preferred his thefts to be unnoticeable and of minimal impact – but these were special circumstances. Fine began his regular routine with hotels. He entered the room with caution, quickly determining that nopony was home before climbing into the shower for a proper scrub. That done, he took advantage of the hotel guest’s hair gel to slick back his mane into something very different from his usual wild style. An investigation of the closet and dressers eventually produced a tie and a cheap but suitable black coat. Now having all the appearance of a businesspony, Fine left the hotel with head held high and a confident smile. Nopony so much as gave him a passing glance. He returned to the monument to find Sunflower still there. She seemed to be taking a break, although by her downtrodden expression it seemed more like she’d given up. An outdoor café stood just across the street from the monument; Fine sat himself on one of the table’s cushions. A waitress came by to take his order, not even noticing that this cultured and well-dressed gentlecolt was the same dirty bum who’d been taking up space by the stairs a few steps away. Fine ordered two meals, with instructions for the second to be boxed as a to-go order. That done, he looked in time to see Sunflower walking around to the other side of the monument, disappearing from view. He considered the wall just behind it and knew there couldn’t be much space back there. “There she goes again. It’s deplorable!” Blinking, Fine’s turned his ears in the direction of the soft feminine voice. He determined that it belonged to the earth pony mare sitting at the next table with her presumed husband. She was a small thing, white-coated with an orange mane. Her stomach, on the other hoof, was anything but small; it bulged to near-bursting with all the mass expected of a mare within days of giving birth. She lay on a long cushion, rubbing her swollen belly as she stared toward the monument. Her husband appeared just as displeased. “I know, sweetie,” her unicorn husband replied with concern, “but she can’t be helped if she won’t let anypony help her.” He was green from hoof to mane, and seemed to stick out from his surroundings like a chipped hoof. “And now she has… is that a knife?” She fiddled with her salad and sulked. “I wish I knew what happened to her that was so bad.” Fine could hold his curiosity in no longer; he leaned over his table to address the couple. “Pardon me, I couldn’t help overhearing. Does that filly come here often?” The mare looked to him as if just noticing he was there – something he was quite accustomed to – before nodding with a pout. “Yes, every Thursday. She has a weekly routine; you can always find here if you just know what day it is.” His interest piqued, Fine turned his eyes back to the monument. He reminded himself to stay in character. “Does she not have parents?” “Nope,” the husband replied, staring at his half-eaten sandwich. “Either she’s abandoned or… well, you know. I just can’t believe that in this day and age there are still foals like her out there.” The mare sighed and turned to Fine. “Foal services have tried to take her in, but she always runs away. My sister in the police department told me that Sunflower did get caught once a few months back, but she escaped by jumping out of a moving carriage. It’s a miracle the poor thing didn’t get crushed under the wheels.” This was certainly news, and it helped to explain why she was out there in the first place. It created a few more questions, though. “So… what? Have they just given up?” The husband nodded, still not willing to look Fine in the eye. “Little Sunflower is pretty good at getting away. They can’t keep sending ponies out to catch her all the time.” Mother-to-Be scoffed and took a sip of her juice. “I know it’s supposed to be practical, but I still don’t agree with it. That foal needs a home! She’s back there eating grass when she should be playing carefree foal’s games in the park with a full belly. There’s no excuse to not devote every effort to giving her that.” “Even if she won’t accept it?” She grimaced and stared at her belly. Her hoof massaged it and she winced, perhaps responding to a kick. Fine smiled at her stomach. “How much longer?” This, at least, brought a smile to the mare’s face. “Any day now. My little cookies are just about done baking.” Fine eyed the cookie cutter mark on her flank. “Cookies?” “Twins.” The husband had the kind of grin only an expecting father could have, or so Fine presumed. “Congratulations.” “Thank you!” The mare gave him a warm smile and continued to rub her belly. The husband’s smile faded as he looked towards the monument. Sunflower was just coming out from behind it, rubbing grass from her lips and looking a little more determined. “I’d never complain about being a father soon, but… to be honest, we actually considered inviting that filly to come home with us. We ran the numbers, though, and there’s no way we could afford it.” The mare sighed and shook her head. “I still say we should try. Being poor and having a roof over your head is better than having nothing and living in the streets.” “We’d not just be poor, Sweet Treat, we’d be going hungry. We’re dipping out of our savings as it is for these little sojourns, you know that.” Fine, who had been watching Sunflower grab her basket and preparing for a few more hours of work, turned his attention back to the couple. “Sojourns?” The mare nodded. “Every Thursday we come here to eat. We shouldn’t, we can’t afford it, but… it gives us an excuse to give poor Sunflower some bits. She won’t accept them any other way.” “I see.” He looked to see the filly back to hawking her wares and doing little tricks for the ponies passing her by. “They’re all ignoring her.” “She never makes good bits here,” the husband grumbled. “Sometimes I wonder why she keeps coming back to this spot.” The mare slowly began to stand, groaning at the effort required. “Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to watch this anymore. A good day to you, sir.” Fine watched as they crossed the street, the mare moving slowly and swaying with the weight in her midsection. He directed his ears forward, just in case. As the couple passed by Sunflower, the husband plucked a few flowers from the basket with his magic and dropped four times their labeled value in her little can. She began to protest and correct them, but stopped when she saw who it was. She muttered a small “Thank you” and watched as they left, her ears folded and head low. Fine ate his walnut-encrusted pasta in silence. When he left the café, he dropped all of his ill-gotten gains into the tin can and left the box of salad and bread, the heartiest meal on the menu. He did this when Sunflower wasn’t looking and had disappeared into the crowd before she had a chance to notice what he’d done. The mule clerk at the front desk of the Frank Neighville Memorial Library cocked her head at Fine’s request. “Newspapers? Are you some kind of historian?” “I wish,” Fine replied with a smile. “I’m actually a private investigator. Need to find somepony, and I think looking through old newspapers will help.” “Well you came to the right place. Come on, I’ll show you to the periodicals.” She stood and circled around her desk to guide him through row after row of bookshelves and cabinets. Fine liked libraries. He’d skipped many a schoolday to visit the Seed Library back in Las Pegasus and go on paperback adventures. Aside from his old stallion, it was one of the only things he missed about the place. The Neighville was bigger, and the outside had a lot more flair in its design, but inside it was still just a library. The quiet atmosphere accompanied by rows upon rows of tomes left him feeling… relaxed. The mule glanced over her shoulder to study him through her horn-rimmed glasses. “What time period were you looking for?” “Recent,” he replied, pulling out of his reverie with a quiet sigh. “Within the past five years should be good enough.” She smiled, a predatory glint in her eye. “So what are you after? Criminal? Tailchaser? Maybe a debtor?” Fine chuckled at her suggestions. “Fishing for gossip?” He sobered quickly as he considered his answer. “A foal. I’m looking for a missing foal.” Her ears drooped. “Oh. Oh, dear. What happened?” Her pace quickened. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Poor filly can’t be more than seven by this time.” “I see.” The clerk turned to a large oak door with the word ‘Periodicals’ emblazoned on it. “We store the newspapers here. The newer ones will be on the third floor.” Fine followed her in, not bothering to ask about the strange design. The periodicals section was poorly lit and felt a little cramped, which was perfect for Fine. Filing cabinets reaching up to the tall ceiling were against the walls while shorter ones just taller than his horn made up the inner rows. He let the clerk lead him up a circular flight of stairs close to the door. On the third floor, she led him along a few crisscrossing hallways, occasionally whipping her head around as if to be sure of her directions. “Here we are.” She paused next to a set of filing cabinets just like all the rest. Small labels next to the handles revealed the print dates of magazines and newspapers within. “Each item in each drawer has an index applied to the inside of the front cover so that you can check the subjects rather than looking at each page and wasting time.” “That’s good, thank you.” Fine turned his attention to the oldest of the set, horn glowing as he opened the drawer. “Just set the items in the baskets located here and there and we’ll sort them later.” The clerk turned to go, but paused and gave him a sidelong glance. “And… um… good luck in your search.” “Thanks, I’ll need it.” Fine waited until she was gone to get to work. He searched through every newspaper, looking up orphanages and crime reports and missing pony lists. Before long he had a hefty stack of papers, which he brought to a reading space in the middle of the cramped room. Reading by the light of a lone overhead lamp, he moved the papers into piles sorted by their information potential. He kept going back for more, his piles growing larger and larger by the hour. He ate nothing, drank little. Sometimes he paused to wonder if all the effort was worth it. He questioned what he was doing and why. Sunflower should be nothing to him, yet something about her situation bothered him relentlessly. How he wished he’d not left Sugarcube’s horn behind the other night; he’d have never known about the blasted filly and might have been all the way to New Horseleans by now. Yet here he sat, scrounging for information on the past of a filly he shouldn’t be caring about. That bothered him the most: he cared. Why did he have to care? He was a Bloodmane – a murderer, no matter how unwilling – and him caring for Sunflower’s fate could only lead to more pain in her life. Why couldn’t he walk away? It would be easy to take the horn back and disappear. Yet no matter how often these dark thoughts came back to him, he kept searching. He wanted her to be happier, though he had no idea why. Because he was a ‘good guy?’ Maybe he was when it really came to it, even if he didn’t deserve the title. Whatever the reason, his heart bled for that filly. He would find out why she was in her situation and – more importantly – why she refused to let anypony help her out of it. An announcement that the library was closing went unheeded. Sometime afterwards, the clerk came back. She stood nearby, ignored as he continued to work without acknowledging her presence. After a few minutes, she left. Fine trudged through the park, morning dew chilling his fetlocks as he stepped through some tall grass. His eyelids were as heavy as his steps and the morning sun made his head throb. He’d spent the whole night in that library. It wasn’t his first time spending an evening in such a place – among all public facilities, libraries tended to be the most comfortable to sleep in. There had been no sleep this time, though, nor had there been any results. Whatever happened to Sunflower, it had failed to make any news. He had investigated so many leads: reports of murders, foal disappearances, kidnappings, child abuse, domestic abuse, orphanage closures, and so much more. He was certain that none of it had to do with Sunflower. A wasted night. All Fine wanted to do now was sleep… but not before he obeyed that nagging, hateful need to check up on the accursed filly. The familiar salt-water smell was in his nostrils and the faint sound of the waves tickled his ears. He went through the painful ordeal of lifting his head against gravity and found he was approaching the bend to the overlook. He would have to get off the path soon if he was to avoid being seen by Sunflower. Just as he was about to turn off, he heard hoofsteps. He paused to listen and realized they were too heavy to be Sunflower’s. Having a hunch, he pretended to admire the birds in the trees. As suspected, the individual who came around the corner was the zebra. This was the first time Fine was able to be close to the bastard, and he made it a point to study him. The zebra was shorter than him and kept his mane cut unusually short. He had some scruff on his chin this morning, something Fine was sure he didn’t have before. More noticeable were the three parallel scars running along his chest, partially concealed by his vest. They looked like the mark of a griffon’s claws. The zebra paused when he noticed Fine watching him. His amber eyes were hard and he bared his teeth. “What are you looking at?” Fine offered a weak smile. When he stepped back, he made sure it seemed like a hesitant motion. “My apologies, friend. I’m simply not accustomed to seeing zebras in Equestria.” “We ain’t friends, friend.” He walked forward, bumping Fine’s shoulder with his own. The hit was strong enough to make Fine stumble back into a tree. “You best stop gawking at me like I’m some bucking freak or I’ll pound your skull in.” He walked on with head held high, grumbling something about Equestrian natives. Fine watched him go with a scowl and pocketed the coins. He felt like he knew what his next task would be, but not now; now he had to check on Sunflower. He slipped into the trees and made his way to his usual spot. Sunflower was climbing to her hooves. She lifted her face to reveal it covered in soot and ash; Fine realized the bastard zebra had shoved her face in the remains of the fire. His scowl deepened. What if the ashes had still been hot? The filly didn’t cry, but she glared at the ashes before her, not bothering to gather the scattered rocks again. She began to dig through the grey mess, a pale powder rising into the air as she worked. At last she found what she was looking for: Sugarcube’s horn. She raised it in both hooves and shook the ash off. Then she stared. No words, no tears; she just looked at the horn’s pointed tip. She set her lips in a thin line, her eyes focused and angry and her breath coming in a slow, calm rhythm. Fine felt his blood run cold, for what he saw was horribly familiar. Long ago, that expression had appeared on another face, hard and angry and wishing things were different. It appeared recently, too: in bathrooms, in still pools, in store windows. It was an expression that didn’t belong on a little filly. At long last, Fine thought he understood why Sunflower had taken the horn. More frightening, he thought he knew what she intended to do with it. One thought filled Fine’s brain. He had to get that horn back. Sunflower had to be kept from making a terrible mistake, one that would haunt her for the rest of her life. He almost stepped out of hiding to do exactly that, but his head overruled his heart before he could take more than two steps. He retreated back into the brush, relieved to see that she hadn’t noticed his momentary lapse in judgment. Fine couldn’t just take the horn from Sunflower. That would do nothing; she’d only find a replacement. No, she had to be shown that better paths were open to her. This had to be handled carefully, for if Fine couldn’t turn her around in some way… She might become like him. The thought made him shudder. And so Fine retreated back to that dilapidated gazebo. Sunflower would be okay for one day without him watching over her. He needed his rest and time to think. He would figure out how to get Sugarcube’s horn back, and if the overrated Celestia might finally deign to smile on him, perhaps he would also save a foal’s life.