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Reacquaintance

Subject Name: Der Ritter

Alias: The Operator

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Maneshot looked carefully and quietly at the documents before him. Each were stifled with photos (or paintings) of Der Ritter. The pages that he saw before were completely redacted and had become clearly visible again, and it carried tons of information behind the black etches that marked the paper. The documents read mostly of his biology, which was composed of several unidentifiable anomalies the normal pony should not have. Maneshot wondered if this could have been from his alchemy tests, or something else...

Eye Color: Grey

Coat Color: White

Mane Color: White

The curious physical features presently match the Operator perfectly, other than eye color and mane.

Sex: Male

Subject Profession: Alchemy

Quarantine Level: Foxtrot

“Hm...”, Maneshot wondered, “I could only guess what ‘Foxtrot’ would be...”

As he continued reading, he sensed a knock coming from the door, the clang of metal rhythm with the sound of splintering wood. It explained the several dents noticeable on the door outside.
He took a peek at Clear Dawn, who was reading a few history files on the Operator. She only looked at the door, then at him, and simply went back to analyzing the data.

Maneshot sighed as he walked across the marble flooring to the door. The quiet eeriness of the night within the castle walls felt marginally unsafe, but it was better than being out in the woods, being hunted by a monster that hunted it’s prey by pure sense and fear. The feeling has been drifting in Maneshot’s mind since the very beginning of this expedition, which turned into some “Holy Quest” for the sake of Equestria. He only asked himself why him... why was he befell with the responsibility to relinquish Equestria’s unknown, or at least secretly feared, ghost. Worse, he felt like he was attempting to solve a problem that the princess herself had carried on with her for only she knows how long.

It just seemed unreal to him, so inconvenient, as if he was put in the wrong place at the wrong time... as if it were planned just for him.

*Clang-Clang*

Maneshot snapped out of his zombie-like state to find he was facing the door, which was given a couple more knocks to signify someone was here.

He approached the door cautiously as he finally spoke, “Who’s there?”

A moment of silence was given before the voice of Twilight Sparkle was heard on the other end of the thick door. Though barely audible, Maneshot could tell it was her.

Maneshot sighed, not just in his tiring state, but his relief that maybe, just maybe, a savior of Equestria itself could actually solve this problem for him. He grabbed the handle of the door with his magic to finally reveal the lavender mare behind it, who seemed quite distraught for being woken up at the hour.

Her mood quickly changed as she saw Maneshot, her expression changed to confusion.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, annoyed, but half-awake.

“I came here to try and fix the problem that Celestia informed you about.” the frazzled stallion replied.

Twilight simply stared at him as if he were mad, a reasonable thing to think about, given the circumstances. She quietly walked into the room. Maneshot nodded to the guard standing outside, and slowly closed the door. The room regained its silence once again, and now a new guest shares its silent environment.

Twilight looked around, unfazed at the mess of papers spread around the bed, table. Even the floor was whirling with spreaded papers of text, each revolving around the physical features, psychological effects, and what few photos remain of the old Operator. Groggily, Twilight trotted to the desk and cleared it neatly of all contents on the table.

She looked at Maneshot, still holding a complexion of doubt, but asking him, “Did you have any contact with this abnormal stallion? If so, do you feel any negative effects based on your the psyche, or, on a physical note, the brain?”

“I had come in contact with it once, and since then I have had hallucinations and rampant headaches have been my most common problem.”, he replied, rubbing his head.

Twilight was left looking at Maneshot, which left him in an uncomfortable spot. He knew that she wanted to be the one to uncover this being, that she had the responsibility of helping the princess in this situation, which she was, but not under the role she had hoped for. It didn’t help that she didn’t appreciate his little “help” in her studies a few years back. But it certainly beat Pinkie Pie’s assistance.

“I recommend that, from what I understand, is for you to be a messenger between us and this stallion”, Twilight suddenly suggested.

Maneshot, staring back in disbelief, quickly debunked the idea, “That is ridiculous! My sanity is already diminishing from even talking to the damned thing! I did it the first time for answers. What makes you think I can do it again?”

“Well, you are not dead now, are you?”

The echoes of the Operators voice rang through Maneshot’s head, repeating the phrase, “We shall speak again” indefinitely. Even after several encounters with the lanky pony, the uncomfortable feeling of even being next to it... which led to his next question, what could he define it as? Would it be more humane to classify the Operator as a true pony, or as a demon that deserves to be addressed only as an entity?

After another session of deep-thinking, Maneshot was interrupted by a slight push to his side. He saw Dawn next to him, sunken eyes and clear signs of exhaustion blanketing her usually content complexion. He looked at her, which she replied by pointing towards a small paper lying on the bed. Maneshot nodded and wandered towards the bed.

In front of him lied what appeared to be a transcription of a conversation between Der Ritter and...

“???”, Maneshot said aloud.

“I don’t think it is necessary to say that aloud for no particular reason”, Twilight said, standing right beside him.

“Well, it must be very important to know who this ‘contact’ is, so we might as well give him an alias”, He explained.

“Triple question mark?”

“Why not?”

Twilight gave him a glare. He took it for granted and went on to reading the document.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Clear Dawn was looking at some other papers from the folder they had received, and had eyed for of the biological and origins of Der Ritter. From what she could gather, he was from the nearby village of Trottingham, a rather quaint and queer village for its time, especially in that era. He had grown up to, who else? An alchemist father, and a rather secretive mother. Not much is given on the background of the parents, but from what was shown on the papers, Der Ritter ironically had a strenuous relationship between him and his father. They spoke very seldom due to his everlasting work on potions and concoctions. What he had worked on at the time was unknown, and only faded as the passage went on. After moving to Canterlot soon after the passing of his mother, Der Ritter followed his fathers footsteps as an alchemist, setting up shop near the castle. Business for him was slow and weak, but was gradually picking up with the recent outbreak of a plague in the nearby countryside. While Ritter couldn’t remedy every single patient due to the limited resources, he became widely renowned for his work on developing a cure to this virally infectious disease.

This detail struck Clear Dawn odd. She was juggling the thoughts of house this sort of individual could go practically mad after almost helping a wide array of individuals to the best of his abilities. She contemplated it was the guilt that had it in him, but she later dismissed that after it was written that his disappearance was recorded years after the epidemic.

After his rising popularity for cures and remedies, he went further to getting what he needed for his special remedies. In those ages, ingredients were quite expensive for purchase, especially those from Tartarus. It came to the point where Der Ritter was at a point of great need for certain items from Tartarus to fit his concoctions. He personally went to the forsaken dimension to get what he needed. Surprisingly, he was usually got his ingredients quickly and efficiently, and his travels didn’t last too long in most cases.

Clear Dawn was fascinated in this stallion’s efficiency and his excavations. Though what he did in his travels was never recorded, many tales were winded about his travels by those who had reportedly seen him. It wasn’t really too difficult to notice where he was, has Ritter had quite a great height, even to the point where he was mistaken as Celestia herself due to his similar pearl coat. He was quite a gentlemen to some, very sophisticated in his work, as vague and potentially dangerous as it seemed. Though a few believed him to be some sort of maker of witchcraft, there wasn’t any recorded instances of any casualties from his remedies. To many figures he always appeared as a father figure, whether it be from his physical feature or simply his mellow personality.

Dawn was suddenly taken out of her reading and turned to face Twilight, who was obviously the person who requested her attention, as Maneshot was looking at other documents at the desk nearby.

Twilight asked, ”How long have you known him?”

Dawn was caught off-guard by this question. She wasn’t sure why Twilight Sparkle would be asking her personal questions, especially any revolving Maneshot. She quickly answered, “A few months.”

“How can you even stand him?”

“He is nice, interesting.”

Twilight glared at Dawn for a second. She could see that Dawn was uncomfortable with the questions she was asking her, and decided to lower her agitation.

“Excuse me... it just seems strange how long it has been since I had seen him and he still has this attitude, this will for adventure.”

Dawn eased down the tension in her body, asking, “How do you know him?”

Twilight looked back at Maneshot, still observing the transcript of the document. His eyes narrowed as he read on.

She then answered, “When I still lived in Canterlot, I usually didn’t speak to many ponies around the city, and I usually kept it that way. However, it seemed when I popped outside, HE always seemed to be around the corner. He always was trying to strike a conversation with me, and eventually I had to speak to him.” She looked at the rucksack she got brung along with her for the investigation that was being pursued.

She continued with her story, “He seemed nice, I guess. He was a no-nonsense individual like myself, and I was grew rather interested in what he was striving for. When I asked him where he lived in the city, he just laughed. He said he doesn’t have a home, which I naturally reacted in shock. He then chuckled a bit more before telling me that he doesn’t usually stay in one place at a time, as he could never explore the world that he was given to look at. He was always a traveler...”

Twilight dimmed for a second to notice that Maneshot was looking directly at her. His eyes seemed to match his coat, and were transmitting the obvious signal to her that told her to leave the conversation. AS much as she wanted to continue, she returned back to studying the paintings and few photographs of Der Ritter. While all aged, they still had a charm and exquisite detail of the pony body, all visibly matching each other of Der Ritter in whatever environment he was pictured in.

While scrounging through the wide variety of visual evidence, Twilight came across a painting of Der Ritter in a black suit. It was rather appealing, quite well-crafted for a stallion of his size. He was posed with Celestia herself in this picture. She was in her usual armored attire, quite content and calm.

My... whoever did this artwork displayed Celestia and this stallion very nicely. It’s unfortunate what happened to him, Twilight thought to herself.

She moved the picture out of the way and looked out the window, checking the Ever-Free for any strange behavior. She was just about to turn away before she caught a glimpse of a pony off in the distance. He was standing by the edge of the Ever-Free, looking outwards towards canterlot. Twilight strained her eyes to see what he looked like. He appeared to have a white coat, but was wearing was formal outfit. What disturbed Twilight the most was that there was no facial features to speak of, at least from this distance. However, it seemed as if he was looking right at her.

A chill went down her spine as she saw the familiarity of him to the photo in the picture. When she turned to looked at it, a shadow was cast down on the area she was quickly turned to see that the strange pony was right at her window.

She had the urge to scream, but it never came out.

Author's Note:

What a rather fitting title...

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