The Cutie Mark Thief

by Zee The Freeman

The Hood, The Rogue, and The Prince

He trotted down the sodden pathway; a rainy day in Canterlot, a rare sight most days. It felt as if the princesses disliked the rain in the city, he concluded it was probably complaints from wetting the manes of aristocracy. He passed a few of them, all under some sort of cover. All that protected him from the downpour was his cloak, the tattered fabric of the hood worked to obscure most of his face. ‘Canterlot Traveler’s Store’, the sign read. Travelling for several days does wear down one’s saddlebag supplies. He shrugged, turning his course toward the door. The salespony inside fixated her eyes upon the door, a strange aura shrouded it, the sigh of force creaked the wood. A hue of contorting colors, shifting with each passing moment, the door slid open to reveal the cloaked stallion entering the shop.

“Is there something I can help you with, stranger?” The salesmare behind the counter asked the shadow. The darkness did not reply, though the shifting magic grasped a few cans of hay, lodging them snugly into his saddlebag. In exchange, a large translucent gem clunked down upon the counter, and the door shut, the shadow nowhere to be seen. Had the circumstances not been so odd, she would’ve cheered upon her newfound fortune. Silence had stuffed the room full and forced the mare’s eyes open in a morbid mixture of curiosity and fear. The damp cobbled streets chilled his hooves, a day this gloomy was certainly a rarity in the capital of all Equestria. Continuing along the barren streets, he wove through its rocky labyrinth to the residential district of the walled mountain city. Warm houses glowed in Luna’s night, scratching the darkness with the light of their cozy fireplaces. Occasional laughter and clinking glassware budded from the houses, though the inviting noises were lost in his ears. He had traveled many miles to reach his former home, and yet the life it once had was lost. No fire illuminated its windows, only with the moon did it reveal to him his own reflection. He quickly looked away, and noticed the murky puddle under his hooves. The reflection showed a being of pure light, locked away in the absolute dark. It opened its mouth as to scream at him, but he nodded to it and trotted over before any noise would erupt from the water.

Closer he inched to Canterlot Castle, through the business district he roamed. Swindlers sat behind covered stalls, still peddling their goods in the sopping rain. He sat watching a mare with a long pink mane attempt to purchase some vegetables. Her bits were soaked up as if they were punch through a straw. A sullen look crept across her face, as she had all but one thing upon her rapidly soaking list. The undulating magic enacted again, dropping a hefty dark gem upon the list. Before the mare could reach for the gem, some hooligans galloped past and swiped it up, pocketing it and cackling down the street. He moved on, his mind shadowing itself in disdain as he walked through the decrepit district. Bits and gems changed hooves, most likely sealing some poor pony’s fate in debt. This was celebrated occasionally with a hoofshake, or rarely a strong drink was shared. A paper stand attracted his attention and he muttered to himself, creeping towards it, “Everypony claims they wish to see harmony in our world. Yet they gather around its evil, and embrace their own.”, his mumbling was interrupted as his eye caught something, “Look at this paper-” Colored undulation swiped a paper stack from the counter. A soggy copy of ‘The Foal Free Press: Canterlot Special Edition’ hovered in front of him with a mystical glow, the papers flipping as he quickly scanned them. A scowl of disgust became visible under the shadow of his hood, “Revealing secrets of ponies, ruining one another. Petty gossip.” Tossing the newspaper down, he stomped it into a murky puddle with a splash. An ignored moan of annoyance behind him faded as he grew closer to his destination. The being tasked him to see to this, for the purpose of ensuring the safety of its return. He entered the Canterlot Statue Garden, creaking the gilded gate open with his color-shifting magic. The statues were all in place, each beautiful and majestic in the frozen state of animation, their eyes a glowing stasis. Uneasiness crept up his spine, chilling him in a way the weather was unable to. All of the earthen works were present, except one. His eyes widened, speaking through clenched teeth, “They released the manifestation of chaos? Only those who wish suffering could ever do this. I must fix this, soon all shall be pure again.” He galloped out of the garden in a fury, leaving behind the empty pedestal.

His rage came to a staggered halt as he collided with a few ponies going nearly as fast as he. They laughed and hollered loudly, creating a scene only the empty windows would witness. “What in the hoof are you doing? This is our turf there hoodcolt. It’d be best if you would disappear. Hey wait...ain’t you the one near the market that dropped that fortune of a gem?” He did not reply, only scanning them as they paraded around him. “Yea, you are that one. You got any extra on ya? We could sure use to fund our-uh-clubhouse. Yea, clubhouse.”

“Made of diamonds after this!” The second in command added, only to get a hoof to the nose.
“I’m the one talking! Now, as I was asking-” He was interrupted by a void in their circle. The hooded stallion had vanished. Something else had vanished as well, a confidence he had, now merely a void. He could see a change reflected in the others as well.

“Hey boss, I know I’m not supposed to be the one talking, but I think you’re missing something.”
“The gem’s still here, so w-what’s the problem?” He muttered with wavering charisma. The second in command poked his hoof into the boss’ flank. He whipped around and clobbered his second again, but the new information halted any continued abuse. His flank stood blank.

The hood continued on, trotting silently through the fogged mist that hovered above the streets. The fog gave way, and the cobble submitted to strong stone blocks, paving the streets in a white glow. The castle was nearby. He snuck over the open drawbridge, the royal guards noticing him not more as a shadow is noticed in the pitch of night. He slowed passing through the main courtyard, his ears perking upon an uproar ahead of him. “I refuse to eat this, this commoner’s meal! Rid it from my sight!” A snooty voice whined through an open window of the dining hall.

“But Prince Blue-”

“I said get it away from me! It might have some revolting disease in it!” The Prince interrupted.

“Of course, your highness.” A quiet patter of hooves grew closer for a moment, then faded as a door slammed shut behind them. A sigh of exasperation exited the room, and he entered through its window. He examined his windowsill, the high windows were connected through rafters, probably to hold up massive weight in the frame caused by the ornate glass windows. His perch in the rafters of the dining hall gave him a hidden view of the source of all this commotion. The Prince showed signs of once being very well groomed, the scattered brushes and spa ointments indicated such. Despite this he looked ragged, his eyes a consistent red as tears dropped onto a picture of a unicorn with a well-groomed purple mane. A whisper caught the rafter stalker’s ear, “I don’t know what to do anymore, he’s refusing to eat now.”

“Do you think we should tell the Princess?” A worried voice of a mare suggested.
“There’s not much she could do. Only the one Prince Blueblood is worrying over could change it.” Blueblood was this Prince’s name, it seemed. It mattered not, he resolved. This Blueblood still stood at a title of malignant opulence. His horn glowed softly in its undulating colors, and the room began to change. Torches were extinguished, save for the light of the moon, the dining hall was now pitch black. Only a silver sliver of moon illuminated the Prince and his picture. Blueblood began to panic and muttered nonsense, his fear growing at the discovery that he could not move. A cloak began to fall from the rafters, which Blueblood caught in the corner of his eye.

“Who’s there? Rarity? Who are you? Show your-” Blueblood babbled, his eyes growing wider in terror.

His hoof was stuffed into the mouth of the Prince, who whined in vain protest. “You listen well, aristocratic fool. Be mindful of the standard you set for your subjects. ‘Commoner food’, as you call it. You are less deserving of it now. Enjoy your shattered heart, it goes well with a lost passion.” In the time Prince Blueblood could blink, all was normal again. The shadow stallion was no longer present, though awkwardness now pervaded his heartbreak. He quickly trotted to his servant, and wrapped his tear-sodden hooves around him.

Surprise hit the servant, and he asked, “Is everything alright, your Highness?” His question was answered with a few muffled sobs in his mane. There was something missing about The Prince, and not just his confidence, as that had been absent since the last Gala. “Your Highness, where is-”

“Where is Rarity? Probably in Ponyville, having fun without me. I do wish that-”

“No your Highness, where is your cutie mark?”

“My...cutie mark?” Blueblood looked to his flank, finding only his matted white coat staring back.

Author's Note:

This marks the end of the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. Since the story is not fully concrete, feel free to give me your predictions of what you think is really going on. It might work to spark some ideas. If you notice any words that are probably missing, please let me know.

Comments

[twilysparklez]

Great Job, looks like the beginnings of a great story

[Zee The Freeman]

4458265 Thanks, I'm hoping it will be a great one :D