Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part V – Chapter III – Before the Storm

The Flying Rift Express truly lived up to its reputation as Equestria's most marvellous locomotive, a mechanical beauty built by the top ranked engineers in Equestria. Its design—from its white-plated hulks built over a network of gears, to the titanium-framed windows pressing up against its giant, imposing mass and the mighty steam-spewing chimney—was modelled after those old trains once used by royalty.

Normally first-class had been placed in the rear of such trains, but for that occasion, they were brought right to the front, just behind the conductor's room. They say that such an unorthodox decision made it more aesthetically pleasing, but honestly, I think they just didn't want first-class in the back. Now that I think about it, it seemed a little pretentious.

Ponies from all sorts of appearances and backgrounds were climbing on board. Luggages were hauled to the back, mothers were calling their children in, and the workers at the station were blowing their whistle, announcing the train was to depart in the next ten minutes.

"Oh wow!" said one filly with glittering eyes, wearing a white cloche hat, "is that really travelling all the way up north of Equestria?"

"Now Carol," said the tall stallion beside her, who himself wore a greatcoat and a monocle, "what did we discuss? Save the commentary for when we have found our cabin. A patient mind is the key to wisdom."

"Y-yes, sir," said the one called Carol in a quick voice.

The two ponies, like all the rest, were decked out in expensive, one might say showy, attire. They hurried along inside the train.

Off to the end of the first-class compartment zone, one could see a group of ponies, mares and stallions, in black suits. They evidently represented something together, seeing as how they had all dressed the same. Some were holding violin and guitar cases.

"Oh, neat!" commented the little filly Carol. "Is there going to be a symphony onboard the train?"

"Up we go, Carol," said the tall stallion, giving her a cursory glance, "don't trip on the stairs."

"Yes, of course, sir." Carol hastened herself.

These ponies in black were nothing especially abnormal by the looks of it, but they all moved together in harmony, as if they had all rehearsed their every step the day before. They exchanged glances with no pony and only ever took any action with extraordinary deliberation. Their eyes were all somewhat hazy, with no light in them either due to weariness or some other factor. One wondered what they could have been up to.

"As a matter of precaution, some members from the vestry will be staying in the freight hold," said one of the ponies in black, at the front of the group, to one of the workers.

"That sort of thing is completely out of my hooves, sir," said the worker in surprise.

"We've already been granted permission." The pony in black held up a document, presumably some sort of permit.

"Oh!" said the worker, adjusting the conductor's hat which had started to slip off his head. "In that case, it won't be a problem."

A few of the other ponies in black looked around them, studying the whole scene. Some possessed deadly serious faces, while others were entirely deadpan. Everypony in that group of black suits spoke with the most monotonous pronunciation. Sharp Heat, having managed an observatory glance at them from afar, deduced at once that they must have been the Tic Tocs, one of the three most influential families in the city. He would try to keep a close eye on them, but some other feeling was nagging him in the back of the head. While he did not know the Tic Tocs on any intimate level, he would never have expected them to arrive without making much of a show of it, even going as far as to converse with the lowly conductor from a different compartment area.

"Please be careful with our instruments," hissed another pony in black, startling the worker, "they're extremely fragile."

Yeah, eyes peeled for sure, resolved Sharp Heat, going up the stairway into the train.

A few more of those pampered, pompous, posey voices resounded with practiced dignity.

"Hmmph! Pl-ease address me as such-and-such."

"Hurry, dear, we're going to get the scraps!"

"Careful, Cozy Belle, make sure to say hello to the nice conductor."

"Has anypony seen my wife?"

And so on.

Meanwhile, further down the station, Knob's group arrived on the scene, and like before, all decked out in clean, ivory suits. They had their own luggage packed in one of the other freight holds, and now made their way to the front. Knob was leading them; he was gazing at the massive locomotive with skeptical, even slightly offended, eyes. He stopped and whistled.

"So this is the first-class treatment, eh?" he said. "I wonder what kind of rich folk we'll find inside." He looked around with an animated curiosity, and his face lit up when he saw the Tic Tocs getting onboard. "An orchestra all in black? Isn't that a sight to behold. Yes, so very nice."

"Yeah, nice to have somepony juxtapose the differences between us," commented one of the mares in white, with a sweet face, clapping her hooves together.

"You could say that again, doll face!" laughed Knob. "So..." He started pacing back and forth, with notes of anticipation ringing in his voice. "Do you lot see any other pony of importance aboard the Flying Rift with us? Anypony that could really produce a scene for us?"

"Over there," said a stallion in his crew, sneakily gesturing with a hoof. Knob looked at where he was pointing. Among the dispersed crowds was a quaint looking mare, pampering up a filly and colt of equal status. "That's Madame Hemlock," the stallion continued, "she's the wife of the senator. Looks like she's with her children. I saw them in the papers."

"Ahh," sighed Knob, grinning crookedly. "Must be swell breezing your way through life, like you possess royal accommodations. And why not? After all, nothing bad ever happens to you when you're rich, right? I bet they're expecting to be treated to a nice, comfy ride throughout northern Equestria. Hmm-hmm"— A few titters involuntarily escaped from him.

"Just don't forget we're pulling lots from a hat, to determine who goes first," said another mare rather imperiously, which was quite out of proportion with her position.

"Alright then." Knob turned around, his smile never leaving his face, as if he were wearing some mask. "Let's get going. We'll treat these passengers like they were our very own livestock... Rotting, decayed livestock—thrown into a basement to collect the hungry flies!"

He raised a hoof and brought it down onto his other hoof, trembling all over with glee.

"We'll handle them with love! Angry love. Cruel, angry love, and so very carefully. Ha, ha, ha!" he burst into the most depraved laughter, stomping his hooves down. The rest of his crew watched with a mix of excitement and fearful admiration. "Ha, ha—let's gut them alive! Let's grind their bones into dust! I'll toss their organs over the pantries like Hearth's Warming decorations!"

The rest of the white-dressed crew followed him inside, laughing.

* * *

It wasn't long before Sharp Heat and Airglow found Nova in one of the cabins. The servants had already passed by—the fancy, all-inclusive kinds who offered everything under the sun to eat and drink—having checked each of the first-class cabins.

The cabin itself was very large: a beautiful scarlet rug covered the floor like a pasture; every inch of the walls was either a closet, or wardrobe, or some other accommodating and non-utilized space. Two couches were placed in the back walls with a double-bed in the middle (Nova was sitting on its edge). On a stool in the front, on a silver platter, was two steaming cups of chocolate mochas.

Nova had his arms crossed, eyes closed, with a meditative look on his face; when the two other ponies entered he instantly turned his head and looked at them. He must have been waiting for them.

"Is this really a train?" Airglow looked around in happy bewilderment. "It looks like a tiny ball room!"

"Expect nothing less from first-class," remarked Sharp. "Little bombastic for my tastes, though."

"Well said, my friend, nothing less indeed," said Nova suddenly, jumping off the bed. "We're going to get comfortable, me and Airglow, that is. I have taken the liberty to look around, to see if there are any nooks and crannies we should be aware of. This here, see, is the bed, but look"— He reached low, stuck his hoof under the mattress, there was a clink sound, and he pulled out a cabinet box from underneath "—we can store our nightly utensils. Anyhow," he continued, making his way to them, "I have also been made aware of the roulette room right beside the dining car. What a coincidence! I was just thinking of chips and prokes, and voila—a roulette room!"

"I, uh, wouldn't know about going there if I were you," said Airglow, looking cautiously into her brother's face.

"But if you do," Sharp spoke as he levitated his mocha cup, blew on it a few times, and took a sip, "mmm, just don't go waving your bits around. Ponies here are like nesters. They'll wait and peck at the first calling."

Airglow set her saddlebag down on the bed, then took her own mocha and began sipping it. "Wow, this is really delicious," she remarked.

"Speaking of which"— Sharp recalled; he took a few of his own bits and placed it on the stool —"that should cover it. I see you two are settling in quite nicely. I better hitch off to my own cabin." He tapped the edge of the door, turning around once more. "Will I see either of you tonight at the dining car?"

"Hopefully, yes," said Nova.

"I'll be there," put in Airglow, smiling. "Bye, Sharp!"

"I'll see you later, Airglow. Have a good one. Till then..." He took off and strode down the hall, into another car, and was gone.

Airglow closed the door, fell upon the soft bed, and sighed.

A brief silence settled in. Airglow was waiting to speak, but for what she did not know; only perhaps to confirm if she really wished to bring it up. She propped herself up, raised her eyes strangely at Nova, and suddenly, without saying anything, waved her hoof as if she did not care to say anything, and with light steps landed on the floor and began pacing the room.

"Do you have something on your mind, little sister?" asked Nova.

"Sort of. It was just something I thought about yesterday." Airglow stopped and glanced pensively at her brother, but again quickly turned away and dropped her eyes to the ground. She stood sideways, not facing Nova.

Nova, for his part, observed her rather attentively.

"Actually," Airglow spoke up in a clearer voice, "I should pick something to wear for tonight's dinner. Olva packed me a few dresses—all pink," she chortled. "Yeah, pink is my favourite colour—she knows me too well."

She paused for a second, as if deep in thought.

"I wonder what Cluster would be wearing if he was here," she continued. "Actually, I don't think he'd be the type of pony to show up to a first-class compartment. I don't think he's ever been the type of pony who tries to make his life more comfortable. But, you know, I'm sure he's fine; right, Nova? Anyway, like I said, I should pick what to wear for tonight, but I don't wanna get too flashy, know what I mean? Is pink too flashy these days? I don't really follow fashion trends."

Airglow stopped when their eyes met. She had started to chat away, amiably enough, in a conversationalist tone. But she was the only one speaking, and till now did not notice the melancholy look on Nova's face.

"What?" asked Airglow. She grinned in a sarcastic, though rather forceful, manner. "Am I sounding too stereotypically feminine?"

"No, sister, I only have Misty Gem harbouring refuge in my soul," said Nova in a voice quite not his own. Airglow looked at him curiously, guessing that some change was taking place in her brother in that moment. "Oh, great heavens!" He raised his hooves and fell onto the bed. "I have come here for her, my dear Airglow. This is all for her, the whole source of this trip. The lengths to which she takes those cursed five thousand seriously is the same as me. In that regard, neither of us possess the slightest pre-eminence over the other."

"Oh, that..." Airglow's heart was suddenly saddened and anguished by something in particular, and she felt it. She asked herself, Will Cluster come back before any of this reaches its conclusion? Then she recalled that gloomy phrase, "Serpent will eat serpent."

"Nova," she began, catching his attention, "the thing I was thinking about yesterday was our older brother. Do you trust him to help you? Do you think he can help?"

"Brother Cluster is a fine one, Airglow. I would trust him with my very life. But now the time for his indiscriminate intervention has passed, and we must move onwards. This is the whole of my being here, here on the Flying Rift."

"That's right!" Airglow's ears perked up. "You mentioned that you had some sort of plan to repay Misty."

"My plan is simple, direct, an obvious string of the most essential steps. I have in my hooves right now—figuratively, of course, not literally in my hooves—the five thousand which I did not blow out. But I need the latter five, as to pay back the ten I have so shamelessly wasted. But that latter five, dear sister, is an impossibility. There are hardly any casinos in Equestria which will allow me to enter their premises, for fear of another row or scandal. To tartarus with them, I say! But that is where the hope lies therein. My objective is to reach a single casino—a foreign one—located in the north-west equator of this land, beyond the reaches of official Equestrian diplomacy. The place is called the Luna Bay, a cold, sturdy, though accompanied frost land, and the casino is there, on the icy shores of the Bay. It is composed of a little shanty village, nestled beneath a range of mountains and pine trees, overlooking the western ocean front. The Luna Bay casino is famous among some savvy few, particularly because only rich ponies can afford to venture there. I suppose its distant and foreign nature provides a 'premium' taste, filtering out those who cannot afford to traverse the geography alone. There I will make back the whole ten thousand! I swear it on my soul, my utterly base soul, I will win it! No longer for Misty, no, this is for my conscience!"

"But how are you so sure you'll win? What if you lose everything again?"

"Huh? What are you talking about, Airglow?" Nova looked at her with the most puzzled and confused expression, as if she had just questioned an obvious fact. "But of course I will win. How could I lose?"

"But... isn't this all based on chance? How can you be so sure you'll win?"

"But therein lies the secret of it all, Airglow! If I endure, if I withstand my ground, and, moreover, if I march in with the absolute intention to win, I not only can but even must overcome the brutality of chance. That's all there is to it!"

"But even if there's a guarantee that you'll win, how do you plan on reaching this casino? The train doesn't stop," said Airglow quietly and reasonably, keeping her eyes fixed on Nova.

"Exactly right, the train does not stop," repeated Nova. Some change came over his face, one that Airglow did not expect; he looked at her with an air of great candour.

"But then... if the train doesn't stop... how will...?" Airglow stopped again and once more looked confused, but seeing that her confusion was apparently not even acknowledged, she began to grow uneasy. All her familiarity and casualness instantly dropped away; her whole face expressed extreme attention and expectation, but timid and obsequious now. Don't you want to say anything else? could be read in the intent look on her face.

"Now you know my plan, Airglow," muttered Nova, almost in a whisper. He clenched his teeth and raised his hoof in exclamation. "I will win those remaining five thousand no matter what. To lose is out of the question. No, no, I will win, I know I will."

"But how will you reach the casino?" asked Airglow all at once, without restraint. "Are you planning to jump off the train when you get close by? Did you bring a zip line or something? I don't understand."

"Hmm? Jump off the train, you say? Yes, perhaps I will jump off the train. An excellent thought, Airglow!" he suddenly and unexpectedly laughed, much to her surprise. Anypony seeing his face would certainly have concluded that he was not laughing at all out of merriment. "I suppose I should jump off once we've reached the appropriate vicinity, and I think I will plunge right into the water and swim the rest of the distance to the casino, all while carrying my luggage on my back."

Airglow was not at all encouraged by this response. But she did not know what else to say, partly because she did not know if he was being serious or not.

"Right," she said in a low voice, ears drooping. "Let's hope that goes well for you."

Not soon after and a sudden shift of motion, followed by the aggressive rolls and toils of metal gears resounding from underneath, and everything began to pull into one direction. The train had taken off, at full steam.

* * *

Nova ended up venturing to the roulette room later that day, well after they had left the Fillydelphia city premises. The things is that the roulette games were carried in the same room as the bar, acting as a sort of mini salon, whereupon many ponies visited but did not necessarily play. It was also discovered that they did not play for any real money, but special paper bills to be exchanged for different menu items at the bar. There was an entry fee on top of that.

At this point Nova was sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of scotch, talking to the bartender, but Airglow—who had followed him there—was not paying attention to him specifically. She was listening in one other conversations around her.

"I want you to take me there directly," said an elderly mare with an awfully disagreeable face. She was prattling to some middle-aged fellow, perhaps her son, perhaps her nephew. Airglow was not sure.

"What, mother? You haven't even rested yet," said the fellow with some solicitude.

"Why should I rest?” she retorted. "I'm not tired, I have been sitting still these past five days. Let's see what your medicinal springs and waters are like, and where they're situated. What, too, about that, that—what did you call it? Oh, about that mountain top?”

"Yes, we're going to see it, grandma," propped in a young mare, no older than Airglow.

"W-wait, what's the Railway Beast!" squeaked a filly's voice from behind. Airglow turned around and saw a frightened-looking filly wearing a white hat, in between Nova, the bartender, and some other tall stallion, all sharing a chuckle.

"Yes, haven't you heard, little one?" laughed Nova. "The legend of the Railway Beast. It's an ancient creature that's existed for centuries, and its main purpose is to curse locomotives, just like this one!"

"And what does this 'Railway Beast' look like?" inquired the bartender.

"It looks like a haze, red and black... or grey... well, dark and all that, you know. It's quick, quick like a manticore, and it rests under the train, in the gears, waiting for them to start moving before going on the hunt! Why else do you think it's so dark under the train?"

"Come on, you're scaring her," remarked the bartender. He was nonchalantly leaning on his elbow.

"Now Carol," said the tall stallion, shaking his head, "this is no time to be concerning yourself with such fairytales."

"Ohh, I don't know, sir," said Carol in a quiet voice, still clutching the edges of the stool. "M-maybe we should warn the conductor, just in case."

"Excuse me, my good sir, but I recall you saying that you're a journalist, yes?" asked Nova. He drained the last sip of his scotch and now looked very happy. "You must be awfully busy these days, in light of recent events!"

"Gusti Tie, president of the Fillydelphia editorial," said the journalist. "And this here is Carol, my assistant."

Carol, despite her lingering fear of the Railway Beast, straightened up and gave a short, respectful bow.

"Journalists, huh?" said the bartender.

"W-we're here on a mission," said Carol, leaning with her whole body on the chair, eyes wide with significance. "A mission to write about the, uh, the truth, so that no pony goes walking about ignorant of the world's developments. B-but, about the Railway—" Her whole countenance suddenly grew pale.

"Truth is the Equestrian way," said the journalist, Gusti Tie. "We convey the subjective meaning of what has happened in the past."

"Subjective?" questioned Carol. "But sir, we only write about things that already happened, so it can't be subjective, can it? We're not giving our opinions."

"Be that as it may, what you call past events is merely just another lens through which we may interpret the future. Yes, past events cannot change, because they already happened, but in a manner of speaking, it depends entirely on how the editorial spins it out. In another manner of speaking, one martini please, cosmopolitan."

"Then I suppose you are here to spin out a story..." said Nova, bending low so that his chin was almost touching the stool, before he shot up with both hooves in the air. "About the Railway Beast!"

Carol's shoulders went stiff, darting her eyes about. The others laughed in amusement.

"I-is it really real?"

Unfortunately she did not receive a straight answer.

I wonder what Sharp is up to? thought Airglow. Maybe I should go visit him in his cabin...?

She sat there, feeling somewhat apathetic, still undecided. The only thing she was really looking forward to was the dinner that night. She certainly had changed, every since Maxim's birthday, ever since her encounter with Bouquet. But in what manner, to what degree, and in what specific areas of thought, she could not say. Yes, the longer she went on without seeing her family together, and without a conclusion to the financial dispute, the duller her feelings grew to everything else. But even this, Airglow felt weary, mentally speaking, though she remained unconscious of it.

Sharp Heat, for his part, spent his time carefully observing the several ponies in black walking to and fro the different compartments, silently and as if with predetermined directions, as if they were ghosts. He did not bother staying in the roulette room, nor did he bother staying in his cabin for intervals longer than thirty minutes.

* * *

We will skip ahead the next eight hours to the scheduled dinner, for fear that whatever occurred before then is frivolous and not necessary to the story. It was now night time. Ponies from all sides in first-class began making their way to the dining car.

But from one of the vestry rooms, trouble was brewing, the worst kind given the situation. The ponies in the black suits had gathered, all positioned in a circle, evidently discussing a most unbecoming matter. They all bore similar expressions, as if all part of some choreography—serious, monotonous, and menacing, yet tranquil. Every single one of their irises were entirely black, without any light in them. Eerie indeed.

Their luggage had been unpacked and laid upon the floor. There were daggers, crossbows, and iron fuse bombs. One pony levitated a case to the middle, opened it, and took out several metal rings with a strange green glow. These rings were promptly placed on the horns of each unicorn there.

"Have the dimeritium inhibitors been installed?" asked one of the ponies.

"Yes, they have been placed under each car and are ready," answered another. "Once activated, all magic within the train will be completely disabled, except for our own."

"Everything will be set in motion tonight," said the one who had opened the case. "Our great Elder Solid will award us the gift of immortality. The life of these mortals do not matter."

Some of them muttered vague words of confirmation. They started to harness up.

"Let us begin," said the same pony. Their horn flashed.