She Fell From the Sky

by Twi-Fi

Quills and Brandy

The rain poured relentlessly, and the streets of Manehattan were unusually bleak—even for a rainy day. With tensions that had been mounting all week, several ponies were outraged, startled by what was discovered... and others were left in doubt. The news predicted riots would break out any day now. Yet there was no sign of disturbance today. At least not in my small corner of the city.

But I wasn’t concerned with all of that, no, I had other things on my mind. Maybe it was how unusually quiet the house was today, the way the walls creaked, or maybe it was the way the drapes moved in the drawing room…. Even after all of these years, my instincts were still sharp, and they were telling me something wasn’t as it should be. It’s that feeling you get when someone is very close and watching you. When you can almost hear the breathing. If only my ears were what they used to be.

I kicked back in my cozy armchair. After searching the rooms of my house and jumping at shadows, it was nice to sit back. Of all of the rooms, the drawing room felt the most unusual. I couldn’t put my hoof on it, but I suspected this room was where something or someone was lurking.

I visually scanned the drawing room while taking a sip of brandy. I wrinkled my nose as it burned its way down to my stomach, and I raised the snifter for another sip, only to find it empty. But before I could muster the energy to refill it, my eyes caught something…. It’s the kind of thing, as I had come to realize, most would’ve missed. It was the exact something I was waiting for: a clue that proved I wasn’t paranoid.

Cracking a smile, I feigned reaching for the bottle of brandy. But, just as my hoof touched the bottle, I chucked the snifter I was still grasping at the window. The glass soared through the air, but it never hit the drapes. After a dull thunk and a sharp gasp of breath, I knew I was right. Someone was invisible.

“You could’ve knocked,” I sang out, pleased with myself.

“Funny thing for you of all ponies to say,” a deep voice said to the room. Red sparks fizzled, and a pale-blue unicorn materialized. “How did you know?”

I frowned, but otherwise ignored his first statement. “You haven’t been the first, but I have to say, you are by far the cleverest….” He was a younger unicorn with a handsome face and kind eyes. I knew from his tense stance that he was out of his element. He was not police or a spy, that much was certain. “The drapes gave you away. They are made of a thick material and are quite heavy. So when they moved slightly… and I’ve had this nagging feeling that I was being watched.”

“Did you have to throw a glass at me?” He rubbed the back of his head.

Did I have to? Certainly not. But who does he think he is? “I needed conclusive evidence.” I shrugged. “Now, who are you and what do you want?”

He looked at the ground. “I’m Quill Scratch, a journalist. I’ve come to discover the truth of your origins.”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh as I slumped back into my chair. Ponies had been bugging me all week, but none were this direct… or awkward. He really had no backup plan in case he were caught. What an idiot.

I stifled my laughter and watched him tensely shift his weight. “And by sneaking around in my house you were going to uncover incriminating evidence? Who hired you?”

“No one; I’m freelancing,” he stated nervously.

“And just what exactly did you hope to find?” I asked, deciding to humor him. So far, he seemed to be telling the truth. He appeared to have no cover story or outrageous lie. Or he was a really convincing actor.

“You have been deemed Manehattan’s most mysterious mare. You’re not of nobility or royalty, yet you seem to run the city.” He cleared his throat and looked up. “There are dozens of police reports over the years, most of which ties in with urban legends. But it goes something like this: On a windy autumn night, a white mare appeared and saved dozens of orphan foals from an abusive orphanage by burning it to the ground while they were out. A few weeks later, a detective received an anonymous tip-off that led to the arrest of Manehattan’s most notorious crime syndicates; one of the main bases of operation was burned in a similar fashion.

“The strange thing was, many ponies reported having seen a white mare in that area days before the arrest was made. Another coincidence was that particular gang was linked to the orphanage. There are several other reports similar to those, and all of them report a similar mysterious white mare. And then one day, she vanished and no reports of her appeared… at least not in police reports. There are a few rumors circulating Manehattan that an unknown mare had a strong hoof in the local government. I could go on….” His eyes locked onto mine, and he cracked a broad smile.

“And you think I’m that white mare?” My heart was racing, but he had nothing. If I had been the only white mare in Equestria, I would’ve covered my tracks better, you would think. Ponies with white fur aren’t so uncommon, though. He’d have to put me at the scene of any of those events.

“Well, you are a white mare, and you’re mysterious. There are three different biographies of you, Autumn, and all of them were confirmed fake. You’re not from Canterlot, and even if you were, then how could you also be from Los Pegasus? You never attended the University of Trottingham either; I looked into all of those biographies very closely.”

“They’re all true,” I smirked. Okay, he wasn’t as big an idiot as I took him for—oh he’s good, very thorough indeed. Journalists are so irritating, and this one was quickly ascending to the top of my list of most annoying journalists. If I weren’t so annoyed, I may have admired his attention to detail, something I admire in all ponies… except this one.

“They aren’t,” he stated matter of factly. “You see… I have something to prove it.”

I ground my teeth. That smug smile really made my blood boil. I knew he could see my discontent too. Being a white pony is very revealing when it comes to emotions, and there was no hiding my red face. “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome here,” I said through my clenched jaw.

“You’re right. I broke into your home, invaded your privacy, and called you a liar. But before I go, I’d like to show you what I have—please.”

I nodded, slightly shocked at his sudden change in tone and how quickly his smug little smirk washed away. He was young after all and probably figured he could score some bits and notoriety by doing a story on me. At least he wasn’t blinded by finding the truth at any cost. I could respect a pony who could admit to being wrong, a quality that could be very costly. He really should have knocked.

Quill opened his saddlebags and levitated a blue folder to me. I quickly snached it out of the air and opened it. Then… my heart stopped, and I clapped a hoof over my mouth. Inside the folder was a tattered photo of a white earth pony filly with a pale-purple mane. She had one foreleg wrapped around the neck of a cream colored earth pony filly with an auburn mane and a round, freckled, face. They were grinning into the camera. I flipped the photo over to see faded, loopey writing.

Snow,

I know it hasn’t been easy, but I hope this picture helps you remember the good times. Let those times fill you with the strength to carry on without me. I wish you well, and may the stars guide you.

Love,

Windy

It was a few seconds before I realized my face was flushed and tears were building up behind my eyes, but I cleared them and ignored the ache in my chest. I looked up to see Quill leaving the room.

“Wait!” I called out to him.

He stopped and looked at me.

“Where did you get this?” I clutched the picture over my heart.

“I found it in a police report.” He shrugged.

I doubted it. The picture had gone missing many years ago, but in a police report? Why? There was nothing suspicious about it. Even if it were then where was the rest of the report? He was lying. “This has been—this is something special to me, thank you.”

“I’ll be going now.”

“Wait! You were looking to find clues about me and about the stories surrounding me?”

He nodded.

“Well, how about I give you the biggest story to hit Manehattan? How about I tell you my story, my real story? And then you can tell me where you really got this photo.”

His ears perked up and, although he tried to hide it, he smirked. I realized I played right into his hooves. He knew once I saw that picture he’d have me. He knew more about me than he let on, and if he had a picture of Windy, then what else did he have? What else does he know?
‘Funny thing for you of all ponies to say.’ A funny thing to say indeed, unless he knew of my past, unless he knew about her.

“I would be honored.”

I shot him a knowing look. “That little ploy of yours was pretty clever. There may be hope for you yet.” I sat up in my chair and grabbed another glass from the table. “Would you like a brandy?” He shook his head. “I promise not to throw any more of these at you,” I added in a sympathetic tone, but he shook his head again. “Tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Quill extracted a stack of paper and an elegant eagle feather quill. He pulled up another chair and coffee table and sat poised, ready to write.

“Alright, but this is going to take some time…. Are you ready then, Quill, to write the true biography of Autumn the White?”

“I am. I promise to record everything exactly as you say.”

I smiled at him and poured myself some brandy. The truth was, he was in the right place at the right time, but he really should have knocked. After all of the annoying journalist banging on my door and private investigators snooping about my my past, no one had ever come this close before. After all of these years of covering my tracks, looking over my shoulder, and remaining guarded, I was ready to talk. And all it took was a certain photograph to surface; I needed to know how it came into his possession. “Well then, let’s begin.

“I am Autumn the White, Autumn Winds, and sometimes I am Autumn the Mystical. I have ran with criminals, toppled financial empires, and ended the League of Shadows’ reign of terror on the West Side. I saved dozens of foals from terrible fates ponies shudder to think about. I acquired more wealth than Princess Celestia. I have loved and I have lost. But before all of that, I had grown up on the streets of Manehattan where I learned to lie, to steal… where I learned to survive. And when my life was about to take a turn from bad to worse, she fell from the sky.”

Comments

[Brony4726]

This is amazing. I hope you are writing more for us.

[Twi-Fi]

6713514 Thank you, and yes I'm working on the second chapter.