A War

by Comma Typer

Daring Do

Sunset again over Canterlot.

Inside a damp, dirty alley with lots of trash cans, the stranger levitated an open suitcase bomb in front of a glasses-wearing unicorn.

"Let's go through this again," the stranger said, glancing briefly at the barricaded entrance to the alley, blocking any view of the outside—and blocking any view of the inside. "Golden Gavel, tell me what you see."

"Uh...I see a timer and—"

"In real life, you'd have three minutes or less, so speak faster!"

He gulped. "Wait...there are...there's seven wires here—"

"What are the colors of the wires?"

"Uh...um..."

"Three seconds wasted!"

"Can you give me a break?!"

"You'll get a break when you defuse the bomb!" she exclaimed. "What do you want? Don't you want them to restore all your belongings, all the honor you used to have? This might be your only chance—it's the only one I could think of."

Golden Gavel sighed. "OK...the wires are: blue, purple, yellow, red, red, black, and purple."

"So, which one will you cut?"

"The...the first one!"

She nodded. "Finally. What's the next step?"

"There's...I see another set of wires."

"What do they look like?"

He scratched his head, stretched the collar of his shirt. "I see various lights and stars on the wires—"

The stranger groaned and turned the briefcase around.

Saw what was inside.

Turned it back.

"You have to know the rules as well," she said. "When ponies gather around to see you defuse the bomb, you want to be seen as a genuine expert, not somepony who just happened to save the kingdom's capital."

"You're pressuring me!" Gavel complained, inspecting the bomb with distraught eyes and hooves. "Which...which one should I cut?"

"The rules! Remember them!"

Then, she covered his mouth.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered to his ear.

He cupped his ear toward the alley's exit.

Numbers of hoofsteps from the road.

"The buffaloes!" she muttered, surprised and looking at her watch. "They're coming back from their meeting with the Princess!"

She closed the suitcase and threw it at Gavel who staggered when he grabbed it.

"If all else fails," she said, faster, "I'll compensate somehow. I trust you with this important task!"

Gavel reached out to her. "But—"

And, she was out of the alley.

---

The stranger galloped down the road, running under the early night, passing by streetlights and lit house windows—she paid no mind to the carriages riding the streets. Dodging the lights, she remained in the dark as much as she could, jumping here and there, keeping her hoofsteps quiet.

She sprinted to a certain house, crouched under a window.

Stood a little up.

Peeked inside.

A cleaner living room.

Lights brightened the place, which only made what was missing and what was new all the more evident. The bookshelves looked abandoned with only a few books left, the potted plants had apparently multiplied by the looks of them packing the room with their leaves and stems—though they were trimmed and groomed—jars of preserved peas and beans filled up one of the tables, and the study table was rampant with papers and rulers and quills and inkwells and magnifying glasses all under the slipping control of a tired Moon Dancer wiping her glasses clean.

Lying on the couches were Minuette and Twinkleshine, bandaged and with casts.

Much of the wall had a new coat of orange paint—it still stank of that noxious odor, and resting by the side were three paint cans, one of them opened and with a paint brush dipped into it. The rest of the wall had that faded look but it was yet more flimsy—some of the old paint was peeling.

"I d-don't know about you," Minuette began from her couch, "but...this is getting boring."

"I'm not taking you outside that easy," Moon Dancer replied, focusing on her calculations. "It's amazing that all three of you survived the blast. If another incident like that happens again, you'd be dead."

Twinkleshine sat up on her sofa, fighting the pain on her joints and groaning along the way. "We can't just stay here forever. What's the point if we lie down here until next week? I'm getting tired of staring at the ceiling."

"Me, too!" Minuette whined.

Moon Dancer moaned and got up from her chair, facing her recovering friends. "Will you mind if Lemon Hearts chaperoned you to wherever you want to go, hm?"

"I don't mind!" Lemon Hearts shouted from the kitchen.

Moon Dancer tapped her hoof and faced Minuette and Twinkleshine, restless. "Tell me where you're heading. Not too far—surely not outside of Canterlot."

Twinkleshine shook her head at her. "Of course, not. We'll just go to the Canterlot Library to get our new Daring Do books signed."

Moon Dancer made a smile.

Suppressed it. "Only if you bring my copy, too. I can't attend." She floated a map of Equestria covered in lines and dashes and dots and arrows. "I have to figure out what's going on with the Crystal Empire. Is there a weakness? There must be a weakness somewhere...."

With that, she went back to her chair and back to her study, mumbling to herself as she ruffled papers, looking for something.

Lemon Hearts walked into the living room, holding a jar of frozen potato chips. She approached the two healing mares on their couches. "You ready for a short night out, girls?"

---

The three mares trotted down the sidewalk, seeing the peaceful sights of Canterlot. Serene parks with their glistening ponds, statues portraying historical personalities in their mostly intact state, a mare selling hats on a cart to visitors willing to shell out some extra cash for headwear.

They passed by a gray, gloomy bread shop where a huge wooden cutout of a bread loaf was its signage. Sitting on the steps to the entrance was Joe, resting his head on two hooves and on a heavy heart as could be seen by his frown.

Minuette gasped, did her best to run up to him without breaking her cast. "Joe! What happened—"

He turned his face away. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"We've been long-time customers and friends, Joe! Maybe there's a way—"

"Some other time, lady!"

Minuette gasped again, her lips faltering.

"Come on, Minuette," Lemon Hearts called out, dragging her back. "Leave him alone."

They were back to trotting down the sidewalk.

Leaving Joe alone on the steps.

---

Getting noisier.

The throng of ponies awaiting the famed A.K. Yearling.

Before the library with its stairway and its statues and its columns and its banners and its windows and its flags and its glass dome—

Before all of them, a table.

Reporters flocked to the entrance doors at the end of the stairway, talking with one another while jotting down scribbles on their notepads, glancing at their cameras once in a while—sometimes, one of them would take a picture of the rally of ponies below on the sidewalk.

While there was a clear line to the table, a lot more ponies had met around that line, chatting about Yearling, Daring Do, Ahuizotl, Doctor Caballeron, sapphire stones, goblets, rings, razors, treks, basins, volcanoes...the list continued endlessly as the excitement grew, each passing minute causing more heads to turn their way to the doors which were always closed when they looked. But, instead of disappointing the fans, those closed doors made them only became more eager for the appearance of Yearling, the return of Yearling—yes, the big arrival of that renowned writer herself.

Construction ponies set up lights by the sidewalk, further illuminating the place and the table where Yearling would soon sit at.

"I like it," Lemon Hearts said.

While being squished between those two enthusiastic, if not hysterical, mares holding on to their books, their copies of "Daring Do and the Shroud of Error". They smiled, they grinned, they prattled upon what might happen in the book—was Daring Do going to die this time? Will she get injured again? Will Doctor Caballeron fall once and for all?

Lemon Hearts did not know.

Then, commotion.

Cheers, stomps, roars, whoops, shouts.

As two guards escorted the shawled writer down the stairs, assaulted by news questions and camera flashes.

She stopped to fix her glasses.

Continued down.

Feeling the applause.

Enduring the applause.

Many faces, many books.

Many flashes.

Clung on to her neutral, blank face, appearing neither happy nor sad.

That famous indifference.

Finally, at the table.

Sat down on the chair.

Examined her table.

Quills and inkwells ready.

She coughed, cleared her throat, drank some water.

Put the water bottle down on the table.

A ringing silence.

Everyone observing her every move.

"Alright. Let's roll."

With a marvelous return to cheering and applause, the line moved.

First pony in line hoofed her book to her.

"Your books gave me the ability to cope with what's happening," the Crystal mare said to her, teary-eyed. "We were all so worried and distracted by the news of cities being taken over and ponies dying in battle, we didn't feel happiness for a long time—at least, not for more than a few minutes. Then, when we got into your books, things turned better—we got into fun discussions about what would happen next, why was this character like this, and other things like that. We can't shake the war completely off of our minds, but you made it much more bearable for us."

Yearling smiled, opening the book to the first page. "Glad to help, Rose Quartz."

She nodded. "Thank you for what you do!"

Yearling signed the book.

Hoofed it back to her.

"You're welcome."

And, Rose Quartz trotted away, book in hoof.

"Next!" Yearling said.

The second pony in line went forward.

An excitable Sunburst, his glasses cracked, his robe sloppy, and his mane unkempt. "Good evening, Yearling! I-I decided to take a t-temporary break from my work to say my w-words of congratulations for getting this f-far! Y-You are an important pony—i-important to all of us!"

Yearling sighed, yet smiled at him, too. "I just can't believe you found the time to get here in the first place!"

Some laughed at that.

Sunburst sweated. "Uh, y-yes! I-It's quite u-unbelievable, but I d-do have the time! I j-just cut my sleeping time in h-half and that would be a-all for me—plus the coffee and tea and energy drinks I drink in the morning and the afternoon and the evening and the night and during twilight also—"

Yearling snatched the book out of his hoof, signed it, and placed it back in his hoof.

"I know you too well to let you stay in line for long," she said, smirking at him. "Give the rest of them some time. They deserve it."

Sunburst nodded. "Y-Yes, A.K. Yearling!"

He walked away, almost tripped down.

"Next!"

Another mare walked up to her.

"So, A.K. Yearling," the pink pegasus began, placing the book down on the table, "I can't believe that I'm meeting you for the very first time!"

Yearling snorted as she signed the book. "I get that all the time, miss. What's your name?"

"Flower Flight!"

Yearling nodded her head. "Flower Flight. A lovely name."

Closed the book.

Gave it to her.

Flower Flight received it with her wing.

Opened it to the first page.

On it, the distinct and unique signature of A.K. Yearling.

"When I grow old, this is gonna be worth millions!" she shouted in her flight away.

Some in the line and in the surrounding crowd made comments against her, but the line went ahead as usual.

Yet another pegasus, this one wearing shades in spite of the dark.

Yearling smiled and took her copy. "And, what would your name be?"

She took off her shades, revealing her peach eyes. "My name's Sugar Apple, and I'm very honored to be right here...uh, talking to you."

Yearling rolled her eyes, smiling all the way. "It's OK. You don't need to act serious in front of me. I'm just a normal pony like everypony else."

"But, you make Daring Do so...cool, so above us! I wish we could have a go at adventures like that once a month!"

Yearling chuckled as she signed the copy. "Trust me, if Daring Do were here, she would advise you to not go off on adventures. I admit, I'm kind of stretching it a bit with how long she's survived."

Sugar Apple chuckled with her.

A piece of paper landed on the table.

Yearling picked it up, forgetting the pegasus who was taking her copy back. "Huh?"

She read it.

On the paper:

Daring Do,
This is the end.

Yearling gulped.

Sweating.

A guard stepped forward. "What's going on, Miss Yearling?"

"N-Nothing, sir," she replied, overlooking the fifth pony in line who was waiting for his book to be signed. "I was just surprised that this paper came here out of nowhere!"

"OK, then," and the guard stepped away.

Yearling breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Next!" she yelled.

The stallion next in line trotted to the table. "Hi, I would like—"

Lights went off.

Not completely dark, but not much could be seen as ponies talked, ponies panicked—some checked their belongings in their bags, a few already running away.

"Somepony unplugged the lights!" a construction pony shouted. "Hold on—let me see...where are those outlets?"

Yearling held on to her hat. "Don't worry, everypony! Everything is fine. It's just some malfunction—I'm sure that's what the trouble is all about—"

Was punched out of her chair.

Lights turned back on.

Revealing a cloaked pony fighting with Yearling.

Her green goggles glittering under the intense light.

Gasps, shouts, shrieks from the crowd.

"Where are the guards?!" a pony screamed.

Only for her friend to tap on her shoulder and point at the unconscious guards lying on the sidewalk.

The lights were on the writer and the stranger.

Pawing the pavement.

All watching them with bated breath.

"We finally meet," Yearling started. "Over a year of me searching for you, and you made the mistake of coming here."

"It's not a mistake, really," the stranger said, smirking. "In fact, you are the one who's making the mistake, trying to meddle in my affairs."

"What are you hiding?!" Yearling shouted. "I know some of it—your book, your magical ability...'Rivers and Streams'..."

The stranger laughed and walked forward to her.

Yearling walked closer as well.

Facing each other down to their noses.

"What is it?" Yearling whispered, eyebrows sharp, glowering with fierce eyes.

The stranger grinned. "What about you be the one to tell me—no, all of us what you're hiding from the world?"

Yearling gulped.

The cloaked pony turned to the audience before them, glowing her horn and levitating the piece of paper. "I would like to ask one of you to read me what's written on the paper!"

Yearling gasped.

The stranger flicked her head back, leering at a stallion over there. "Ah, you! You were about to have your book signed, correct?"

Those around him gave way, making him stick out in the crowd. "Uh, yes?"

"If you want to live," the stranger said, stepping toward him and floating the paper to his face, "then read what's written on that paper as loud as you possibly can. Shout it out, if you have to!"

Yearling shook her head at him, signalling him to do otherwise.

The stranger glanced at the writer. "Am I speaking to you?"

Then, hoofsteps from the road.

A squad of guards incoming, now galloping on the sidewalk.

Yearling chuckled and took out a card.

The guards approached her.

"Miss," one of them said, holding up two pairs of hoofcuffs, "you are under arrest for attacking a—"

She gave him the card.

The guard wobbled in place, then hoofed it back to the stranger. "Right...proceed with whatever you were authorized to do, miss."

That squad left the place, trotting back to their patrol routes.

The crowd backed away from her, already spreading rumors of that mysterious mare in hushed undertones.

The stallion with the unsigned book grabbed the paper, scared—his mouth was quivering, trembling.

"Read it!" that cloaked pony yelled.

He held it up to his hooves. "'Daring Do, this is the end.'"

The stranger broke out a smile across her face.

"But, she's not real!" a mare cried out.

The stranger laughed. "How naive you all are. She is real. And, to make it better, she's not just real—she's right here!"

Pointed at Yearling.

The writer gulped.

Pawed the ground.

"I've had enough!" Yearling roared.

Lunged at the stranger.

The stranger smirked, facing her.

Grabbed her.

Slammed her on the ground.

Concrete cracked.

Gasps and screams from the audience.

The stranger quickly put her back on her four hooves.

Yearling faltering, limping, barely able to stand.

"Mares and stallions!" the stranger declared. "This is...!"

Yearling's clothes glowed.

The stranger levitated her glasses out.

Then, her hat.

Finally, her shawl.

All gasped, staggered.

At the mare with the grayscale hair, with the green vest, an adventurer's pith helmet.

With the wings.

"Daring Do, everypony!" the stranger yelled, bowing down before the crowd.

She ran out of the lights, out of the scene, ditching Daring Do behind.

As ponies rushed to the adventurer.

Asking questions.

Flashing cameras.

Some expressing astonishment.

Others expressing indignation.

Shouts.

Yells.

Screams.

"Can you believe it?!" one of them yelped. "A.K. Yearling is Daring Do! Everything's true!"

Daring Do herself stood there, suffering the attention.

Noises around her, ponies running about, sights confusing and mixing with each other, questions and answers and accusations mingling to become incoherent to her ears.

Staggered back.

About to faint under the light.

---

The stranger galloped down the street, floating her green goggles away for red ones.

Put them on.

Breathing fast, panting.

Skidded by the intersection lit up by four streetlights.

Her red goggles shining under them.

She spotted the alley on the other side.

---

The cloaked pony stacked cardboard boxes on top of each other, obstructing the only exit out of the alley.

She turned around.

Down the dusty, grimy alley of garbage and filth, there stood an Abyssinian cat.

Sporting a black coat.

"Came here just in time," Capper said, striding his way to her. "I was actually getting used to this place, but you came along and had to ruin the fun."

The stranger took out a small bottle.

Capper grabbed it, scrutinized the blue liquid before him.

"That's the poison," the stranger said. "Too bad he didn't bring Sugar Belle, but we have to take every chance we got. Once I know you've successfully killed him off, we'll meet two days from now and I'll give you a huge sum of bits—enough to get you a good house by the countryside, but I know you're not that kind of cat."

"Well, there's the debt, for one—"

"What?!" The stranger looked at him from head to toe, raging. "You said you had no debt!"

"Technically, yes, but you asked if I had any debts to...what was it? Unscrupulous characters."

"You're in debt to legal ponies?!"

And, she smacked a hoof on her face.

"Ugh! OK...continue with the mission and go to The Tasty Treat—Party Favor's over there as we speak. Strike up a conversation, do something without making it obvious!"

"Alright, alright!" Capper said, backing off and holding up his two paws. "Just chill. I wanna get on your good side, OK? Just let me do my thing, and we'll meet, right?"

"Two days from now," the stranger repeated, turning back to the cut off exit.

"Yeah, two days...."

He put the poison inside his coat.

She levitated the cardboard boxes out of the way and cleared up the path.

The stranger jumped back to the sidewalk.

She trotted in the city under the shining moon.

Comments

[TheMysteryMuffin]

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