Wicked Stable Pt 1
Prologue
Carefully.
That was the way the castle was built. Each brick lain upon each other with single, focused purpose, each serving as part to a whole. When it began they were merely individuals clambering over each other for recognition, but as a product they each now know their place within the building that housed the chambers of Princess Celestia.
And each brick was placed, by hoof, by magic, or by any other means -
Carefully.
The builders who worked upon the castle gave it great attention. Nothing less was allowed for the bastion of the ruler of Equestria. Its planning was a feat of ingenuity. Its design - elegant; but yet structurally tactical. Within its hallowed halls of stained-glass windows and carpeted stone lay many secrets of which few were privy to, and all those who worked upon its conception lay forever to rest with these secrets tied to their lips, never allowing their escape.
All but one, and she kept rule.
The castle was a perfect blend of design and function. While serving, to the naked eye, as a place built for beauty, relaxation and peace, it was also the most defensive point in the entire city of Canterlot. Rising above the town like a guardian tower, it cast its shadow upon the buildings below as a constant reminder of its presence, enveloping and wrapping the cobbled streets in an invisible grasp of safety.
The Ponies of Canterlot lived in the city built around the castle.
Knowing of the safety that the castle brought. The security. The warmth of love from the ruler who constructed the entire thing with a silent promise to keep them from harm forever.
Behind these city walls.
CHAPTER 1:
In pane of glass and crack of stone
This is where I call my home
Of rolling hills and gilded blocks
The lofty heights of Canterlot
Oh town of magic, myth and wonder
Call to me - your one protector
Give me strength to do as able
Rid the world of [wicked stable]
Cast your judgement as deemed fit
and guide my hoof to carry it
The fire's purge comes from within
Expunge our town of perfect sin
- Excerpt: 'Demons Amongst Us'; chapter: 'The Eater';
Author Unknown; Date Unknown
The well worn streets of Canterlot could tell you a few hundred thousand stories. Each of them stacked up, one upon the other, with the hoof prints of the last pony to walk down the winding, grass-lined roads that separated shops and houses. If the streets could speak, they would say many things. It is quite possible that most of what they would have to say would be along the lines of please sir, would you kindly get off, you're not that light, quit trodding on my face, so perhaps it is best that the streets remain silent.
But still, they hold stories. Where ever a single pony walks, he brings with him a rich history of a personal tale from the time he or she first dropped step onto the gilded bridges over the west gardens, or the skydocks where the Pegasus chariots ferry ponies from all across the gracious lands of Equestria.
For most ponies this is where their stories begin.
For some this is where they end.
The crowd gathered around outside the front of Duriandal's Perfumery. It, like most other buildings in Canterlot, was a gorgeous building, lined with purple trimming over silver walls. The building itself was a rotunda, with frame-less glass windows lining one half of the wall, only split in two by the main doors that beckoned entry into the Shoppe. The golden roof hid the second floor of the shop where Duriandal lived and slept, circular windows dotting the rim unevenly.
The Shoppe was a little more than halfway up a grand stairway; one of the few sloping slanted market stairs that contributed to the landscape of the consumer side of the city. The street was just one large set of widely-spaced steps, with shops bordering either side and a grand emporium right at the top. Cafes, accessories, you could probably get it all here if you stayed a while, and most ponies on a lazy Saturday afternoon would love to if you'd invited them out for a cup of tea and a walk.
"Hey, let's go to HoneyLane Avenue," you'd say. "For a cup of tea, and a walk."
"Yeah, let's!" would be the reply. "And let's get some hats, too!"
For never was there a pony who didn't understand the value of a hat.
This was not why the crowd was gathered outside of MagnifiScents that day.
The doors of the perfumery were open, braced against small wooden blocks that prevented their closing. A strange smell wafted from within, and while one would naturally conclude that a perfume shop should by definition play host to a multitude of strange smells, this one was quite fouler.
It smelt of ichor. And if anyone were to be able to tell you, Duriandal would conclude that ichor is not something usually used to make perfumes.
She probably wouldn't say anything in the meantime, anyhow. It's hard to talk when one is choking back tears.
Two of Celestia's personal guards were barring entry, but they could not very well bar the curious stares of the ponies that threatened to mob the scene. The glass wall that normally gave previews of the lovely selection of crystal bottles and perfume spritzers that sat, luring customers, upon the shelves of the store now became the portal to a terrible sight, one that made most of the onlookers stunned in retrospective silence.
But they wouldn't move. Not for a case like this. It was a train wreck. The absolution of what happened just simply caused the casual bystander to freeze and just watch with a mix of disdain and morbid curiosity.
Now, of course, Celestia's personal guards don't just make personal appearances for any old crime. They only showed up for something serious, and their presence was more of a signifier that something incredibly serious had happened.
Sergeant Blue Canary did not like it. As the head of the investigations team of the local district Pony Police station, she only felt that the presence of these unmoving statues of guards only served to draw more attention to the scene, as it no doubt already had.
They got in her way, and they upset her greatly. Especially when she was perfectly capable of handling it on her own, thank you very much, and we don't need any help from the elites, always coming here and throwing around jurisdiction like as if they owned the Colt-forsaken place.
Not like they did anything besides stand around and glare at people anyway.
"Alright, nothing to see here. Let's keep moving," she said sternly, the same old thing that every other pony says when there is always something to see. She directed the last of that proclamation to the two guards as well.
"Where's the tape... where's the darn tape..." she muttered to herself, looking up at the big clock that stood affixed to the front of the bazaar at the end of the street. Her second in command, Constable Red Berry, was late, as usual, but not because of forgetfulness or any sort of reasonable reason.
No, once 'forgetfulness' becomes a reasonable excuse, you know you've been partnered with the wrong pony.
Light red hoofbeats shook the windows as a small-figured pony of rather sad stature ran up the road as fast as she could. In her mouth she held a roll of police tape, trailing behind her like a banner in a parade. Her straight, layered green hair also flapped casually in the wind, making her seem like an out-of-control parade float. A worried look was plastered across her face as she threw herself around innocent bystanders and queer onlookers alike, dodging and almost nearly running head-long into a few.
Upon her head was a little navy-blue helmet, a little round bubble of a thing. It also had a little spinning red berry alarm on top, which was currently on, and blazing its caution to the ponies around. A small chain hung on the left of the helmet to turn it on or off at her discretion.
She ran at full speed, knowing well enough that she was already in trouble as it was.
And then stopped.
Wait a minute, where was this, again?
"Hey, Berry!" someone shouted behind her. She turned, the tape flying around and clinging to her wet neck. For some reason she was entirely soaked as well, water dripping off any part of her that gave it opportunity to. She scanned the crowd, trying to find the owner of the voice.
"BERRY!" Sergeant Canary screamed.
Oh, right! There! Whoops, ran right past it. No matter! Constable Berry sheepishly made her way back, squeezing past the crowd and spitting the tape onto the ground in front of the larger yellow pony, the edge of the tape still plastered to the side of her face like an oversized bandage.
"C...constable Red Berry reporting, ma'am!" she saluted, nervously. "So...sorry I'm late... I fell into the canal behind the street... and..."
"Yeah, yeah, save it," said Canary, sighing. She yanked the tape off Berry's face with a quick burst of magic from her horn and brought the end over to one side of the double glass doors, motioning to Berry to get the other end.
"Oh, oh right," Berry mumbled, grabbing the end of the tape off the floor, and slowly unrolling it to block the entryway.
"Don't forget to cut off the end before you let go!" reminded Canary, tape hovering in front of her. She put the tape up at a good height, the sticky side securing it fastidiously to the door frame. She looked over to Berry's end.
She was standing there, miserable look on her face. She tried to smile, but all she could do was shrink into herself a little bit. While the other end of the yellow and black 'do not enter' tape was also securely fastened, the remainder of the entire roll was now unravelling itself and tumbling down the entire length of HoneyLane Avenue.
Canary smacked her teeth, stoic expression on her face, tapping a hoof on the ground. She turned, slowly, ducked under the tape and just simply entered the store.
Behind her, the figure of Red Berry was already slowly disappearing into the distance as she gave chase after the errant roll of tape, helmet blazing away.
The royal guards stood there, doing nothing, saying nothing, as sentinel as ever.
The inside of MagnifiScents was just as beautiful as it was on the out; polished wooden tables of curved design bordered the entire store, upon which were stacked such a variety of containers of all sorts that you'd be spoilt for choice.
The stacked shelves only broke in two places - one being the entryway that Sergeant Canary just came through, and the other on the far opposite of the shop, which held a simple wooden door that led upstairs. A little carved wooden sign that read 'private!' hung upon it, straight as an arrow.
It was all very... symmetrical. Right in the center of the round room was a round glass display counter, and within that was a round pillar that stretched from floor to ceiling. The marble tiles that lined the floor were even circular as well, with these starburst patterns that separated them where the circles didn't lie.
It seemed that whoever designed this place had a pretty specific shape in mind.
But still, Officer Canary couldn't say it wasn't nice. It was actually very beautiful, and it gave this sense that no matter where you were in the shop, you always had the same view, and you were always in a familiar place.
Cloth banners touting the latest specialty item, 'cloud puffers' were hung up on the roof, inviting people to come take a look, because they were on introductory sale, and were only 79 bits.
What. A. Bargain.
79 bits for a cloud. Officer Canary snorted to herself. Some ponies. Really. Too much money to spend on frivolous items that had no purpose other than to let its owner go 'hey, look what I can afford', and also, really, when will you ever need to use such a thing? All you needed was a good old bottle and be done with it, and not to mention...
A soft sob cut Canary's mental rant short. Oh yeah. That's right.
She strolled slowly to the center counter, behind which was an Earth pony of a slightly off-coloured yellow. An Earth pony? They were pretty uncommon around here in Canterlot.
Canary tilted her head, and stepped over the large red streak that was the only break in the elegant harmony of the shop.
The Earth pony was sniffing, letting out a short, sharp breath once in a while, traumatized by quite a bad event.
Her green, spiky hair was ruffled and unkempt, and was made even more so by her running of hooves through it every once in a while as she tried to keep herself from breaking down into smaller pieces.
Her head was in her hooves, propped up by elbows on the countertop, as Officer Canary approached with much restraint.
"So..." she said, starting off easy, "Cloud puffers, huh? New item on the market?"
Duriandal looked up through shining wet globes, a bit taken aback at the start. Finally, darting her eyes left and right a bit, she allowed her hooves to drop back to the table, where she gingerly, and with shaking legs, pulled out a small box from underneath the glass panes.
"Y... yeah..." she said, pushing the box forward toward Officer Canary, "It's... the... latest thing... you... have a little cloud... and you can..."
She coughed, suddenly, a bit of moisture running down the wrong way.
Officer Canary waved a leg, as if to say, don't worry, go on.
Duriandal just pulled off the lid of the box, and sitting there on a red velvet plush pillow lining was a tiny little cloud, in the shape of a star. Clearly it had been made with some finesse, and careful hooves. It was a work of art by itself, although Officer Canary honestly did not appreciate such things on a personal level.
"You... you can choose any one... of my fabu... fabulous scents," Duriandal went on, stuttering every so often, but slowly getting back into her spiel. Behind her, lining the center pillar all the way around from bottom to top, were large glass bottles of all kinds of various coloured liquids. Each bottle had a spigot attached to the bottom, and all of them were labelled with the name of the scented oil that you would find within, neatly, and with cursive writing.
"And... and we will infuse the cloud with... your choice of smell. You may then use it to apply to yourself as thus..." she plucked the cloud up and patted herself in the face with it gently, "or leave it out as a diffuser."
"Only 79 bits, huh?"
"Y... yes, ma'am. As... a... a special introductory price."
"Call me Canary," the officer said, floating off her helmet and settling it on the counter next to the cloud. "Came up with all this yourself?"
"Y...yes, Miss Canary," she replied. "It... it's an invention of mine... I have a Pegasus helping me in Cloudsdale..."
"You know what?" Canary cut in suddenly. "I think I'm going to buy one."
"W...what? Here? Now? Well... alright, but..." Duriandal stuttered. Her mind had started to shift from the events that had just transpired to other more immediate matters. "What... sort of scent would you like? We have a selection of over three hundred, and you may combine up to three in a single purchase."
She weakly stretched her leg back to motion towards the bottles behind her. It was an exhaustive collection. Canary had no idea where to start.
But luckily, at that point, she heard a very familiar sound behind her. That of failure and annoyance.
"Berry! Get in here!" she yelled suddenly, over her shoulder. Constable Red Berry stood there, and suddenly dropped the mass of tangled, scrunched-up tape that she herself was hovering above her, like a plastic tumbleweed.
"Coming!" she squeaked, ducking under the tape and entering the store.
"And turn that off!"
Click. Berry pulled the chain that dangled to the side of her helmet with her mouth and the blinking, shining light slowly came to a stop as the rotation ended and the light died down.
"Hey, Berry. What do you like to smell?"
"I'm... I'm sorry, ma'am?"
"Smells. Scents. You know. Things you breathe in with your nose. What do you like?"
"Uh..." she stammered. "Uh... I... like chocolate?"
Canary turned back to the lady behind the counter, looking very confused and holding a little tiny star cloud with both hooves, squeezing it out of stress. It went 'poof' with each application of pressure.
"Hey, you got chocolate?" Canary asked with a smile.
"Ah... yes... yes of course, it's one of our most popular scents, in fact... amongst the younger crowd... we have... um... Hazelnut... Coffee... White... Caramel..."
"Yes. That one. Caramel. One please."
"Of course, right away, ma'am," Duriandal returned to the honorific, because now she was dealing with a customer. She ducked under the table for a moment and retrieved a small glass jar, a round globe-like thing with a thin stem for a neck. With it, she pushed a mounted step-ladder on wheels to the opposite end of the pillar where the Caramel Chocolate scent was kept.
"But I wanted hazelnut..." protested Red Berry.
Canary gave her that kind of 'what are you doing' look that you give to small children when they do something incredibly silly like draw over your nice new chariot with their shiny crayons.
"srry..." mumbed the small red constable, under her breath. "I jus' really like hazl... OW!"
"Everything alright?" Duriandal's worried face popped out from behind the pillar.
Canary quickly shuffled her left rear leg back off Red Berry's hoof and back into place. "Of course. No problem," she smiled, then turned, face dark again, back at Berry.
"Go. Go... check out... back there," she whispered, looking at the crowd outside. She did not want to have to fight with those bunch of nosey parkers outside. Waving her hoof generally in the direction of the trail of red, thick, smelly liquid, she flicked her head towards the doors. "Trail leads behind the shop. Go check it out, and don't touch anything," she hissed.
"Yes, ma'am!" Berry whispered back, guilty eyes on her face. She drew back and stumbled out the door, turning on her little red light again.
Colt, why did she like that thing so much?
After a while, Duriandal appeared again, carrying the little flask, now full of a dark brown, yet clear, liquid. The powerful whiff of chocolate mixed with freshly made caramel hit Canary in the face like a winter wind. This was made even more apparent thanks to the musty smell that the front of the shop already had floating around, and the distinction was so great and obvious that Canary had no choice but to raise an eyelid.
"That's... some strong stuff," she said, commenting.
"Oh yes, it is, ma'am. Pure oil infused with essence of chocolate bean and vanilla. I make it myself, of course."
She had started to pull out a display rack, one of those small portable ones that you usually find in jewellery shops displaying rings and the like, but this one had different cloud shapes within them.
"We have a multitude of containers for your choice, ma'am, if you would care to give a look...?"
"Tell you what, I'm going to give this some serious thought," Canary said. "In the meantime, why don't you tell me a little bit about what happened here just now?"
,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
Officer Red Berry wasn't a bad policepony. She wasn't... good either, but that wasn't really the point. The point was that she was very dedicated, and she was very faithful. Sometimes, you have to just accept ponies for who they are just because the rarest virtues are the more important ones.
Red Berry, or Rebby as sometimes they liked to call her down at the station, gave herself a little imaginary pat on the back. Investigative work! Finally! Well, at least, by herself, and that was something that Sergeant Blue Canary had never given her before.
Well alright, technically only a wall separated the two of them, and between the both of them, Sergeant Canary was far more qualified to talk to the witness. Also, following a blood trail to wherever it led wasn't necessarily investigative work, per se, but still! Happy days!
She moved along the side of the wall, where the red streaks took her. Of course, this could only mean one thing. The murder occurred inside the store, and then the body was dragged out! Or... was the murder outside, and the body dragged in?
There wasn't any signs of a struggle in the shop, Rebby reasoned, and that shopkeeper, who slept just upstairs, hadn't heard anything until finding the dried blood the next day, so it suggested that perhaps the murder didn't take place within the shop itself.
However, why then would someone break into a shop at night, just to paint a trail of blood, and then remove the corpse?
Wait, was there even a corpse? Maybe whomever did this was still alive! But it was unlikely. There was a lot of blood, and also, that scribble on the wall kind of made it swing in one direction.
Rebby looked at it contemplatively, wondering what exactly it meant. It seemed to be written in the blood of the victim, if there even was one, of course, and it was in quite terrible handwriting indeed. This was a cause for concern.
She spelt it out in her head.
"One... has been... freed..." she muttered to herself, reading the cryptic message back to herself.
So, naturally, the thought now was that someone had murdered a poor pony inside the shop, tormenting and terrorizing an innocent perfumist, and then later dragging her out of the store again just to write a lovely little message on the wall and then... well... where did it go?
She followed the trail of blood a bit more. From the alleyway behind MagnifiScents, to the canal that ran parallel to the street.
The canal that Rebby had just dropped in earlier.
"Oh, eew!" she shuddered, realising what she had just done.
She shook it off, giving the canal a condensed glare, as if to blame it for being there. Turning around she surveyed the surroundings. To her left, as she walked back to the main street, was a tall brick building that offered no vantage. No windows, no anything. Just a solid three storey wall that sandwiched the very narrow passage that Rebby was standing in at the very moment.
To her right, the message drawn on the back of the perfumery. The wall was curved, as was the building, and therefore the opening widened slightly at either end of the alley.
It seemed that there were no other witnesses who saw it happen, or at least none who were freely giving up information, and as thus Rebby reckoned that it must have been done late at night, or at least during a time when no one could see.
She nodded to herself. Yes, investigation!
Logical deduction! This is the very spirit of the police officer! She stamped happily on the cobblestone streets.
Wait! Cobblestones!
That's going to be hard to drag someone across, isn't it? It'll be bumpy and rough. Certainly something not an Earth pony could do. Hm... perhaps she had aid. But if she were a pegasus, why drag at all? You could carry and leave no trace, unless it was intentional, but if they had just meant for everypony to find the message, they wouldn't have to drag the body away as well.
It must be magic. It must be. A checklist was ticked inside of Rebby's head. She was excited. Applying all these skills that Sergeant Canary - one of Canterlot's finest - had imparted on her... it was thrilling!
She happily walked back toward the front, where the crowd had started to disperse, thankfully. A few bystanders remained, watching carefully.
Oh wait... Canary told me about this once. The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime! Oh, oh oh. She took a quick scan of the faces of the ponies who remained, pulling out her trusty notebook and pencil, weather-beaten through use, and jotted down quick descriptions of each.
Oh she was on a roll.
Quickly, she returned to the store to report what she had found.
At that time, fortunately, Sergeant Canary had finished having a little chat with Duriandal and, having paid for her little gift, had left the shop with the nicely wrapped package in tow. Service, clearly, was important at MagnifiScents. Duriandal called out a fleeting 'goodbye, come again!' to the pair as they stepped outside and Canary took a deep breath.
"Well, that was interesting," she said. "And you. Find anything?"
"Oh, lots," said Berry, bringing Canary back to the alleyway. "Look at this!"
She stood proudly in front of the scrawled message.
"Berry, you're standing in a pool of..." Canary said.
Berry stepped gingerly to the left, wiping her hoof on the stoned pavement.
Canary groaned.
"Well... um... as I see it," Berry started, as Canary herself took a quick cursory glance around the area. "I have come to the conclusion that the perp is a Unicorn."
"Me too," said Canary, looking at the words on the wall.
"Way I figure it, a pony couldn't drag a body across these here rough roads, and a pegasus might as well fly it off, so..."
"Well, you're right about the Unicorn, but not because of those reasons," Canary shot Berry down dryly.
"But..."
"Why couldn't a stallion, or a large buck drag a small body across the floor?"
"Well..."
"And wouldn't flying while carrying an entire body be more difficult than dragging it?"
"I suppose..."
"The words," Canary flicked her head up at the wall. "That's the key. Notice how high up it is?"
"Well they are rather high up..."
"Without help, or without putting your body on the wall, you wouldn't be able to reach up there with your mouth. No hoofprints. Not an Earth pony."
"Well... what if they flew?"
"Look at how the words are written. Elongated. Slightly stretched. The angle suggests that at the time of writing, with... whatever it was they used to write it, the perp was standing here, on the ground, and not at eye level."
"That... that is brilliant, Sarge!" Rebby gushed, genuinely. She had such respect.
"Yeah... what else do you have?"
"I got some descriptions of the people who were lingering around in the crowd. Maybe one of them's the perp come back to check out his or her work, eh?"
"Throw it away," said Canary.
"But... why?"
"No body. Nothing to see. Nothing to experience. They aren't going to come back just to see two idiot cops bumbling around. They already left a message, anyway. They needn't be here."
"Oh..."
"Besides, this perp? He or she is smart. Managed to pull something off like this in the middle of one of the busiest shop streets in Canterlot," Canary sighed, "Doesn't make our job any easier. But the perp knows what he's doing."
"Well..."
"So, way I figure it, the murder happened here, in this alley. Closed off. No one to see, walls to contain the scream. Perp writes a message. Drags the body to the river, throws her away, lets nature take care of the rest."
Rebby nodded, clinging on to every word.
"Then he..." Canary shook her head. "This is the part I can't figure out. He makes a second trail back into the middle of a shop... for what? Just to lead us to the message? Why all that trouble? Why not just to the streets outside?"
Canary clopped her hoof on the ground for a while, deep in thought. "Maybe they had something against this Miss Duriandal or something..."
"Uh... Sarge?" Rebby said softly.
"Yeah, what is it, Berry?"
"I reckon... I reckon... the murder took place inside the shop, ma'am."
Canary turned to look at Constable Berry, staring at her curiously. "And what gives you that idea?"
"Well, uh... ma'am. See, like you said, none of this makes sense. If the murder... did occur in the store, the question is why would someone break in just to do it there, right?"
"Right, so obviously it didn't take pla..."
Rebby cut her off, high on her excitement.
"But what if the victim was already in the store?"
Canary stopped in mid-sentence, mouth open. She looked up at the cryptic note on the wall, and then back at Red Berry.
"You know..." she said, finally, "I'm going to have to buy you a drink one of these days. Let's go," she said, suddenly turning and heading back toward the store, with an overjoyed Rebby in tow.
Sergeant Canary nearly hit the police tape as she barely ducked in time to get into the store.
"Miss Duriandal," she called out, "Very sorry to bother you again, but I have a few more questions."
"Oh, no problem!" Duriandal smiled back. She looked a lot better now, and was packing up some of her supplies as she would every day, although today she was just by herself. "How can I help you, Miss Canary?"
"This is a strange question, but have any other crimes been committed against you in the past few weeks?"
"Crimes? Well..." she gave it a bit of thought. She didn't have to think long. "Thursday last week, 4.24 P.M., discovered missing perfume bottle; globe shaped. Saturday last week, 2.58 P.M., discovered three missing draws of Treacle Nut Surprise, Rose Blush and Melon Conundrum. Tuesday this week, 9.03 A.M., discovered missing perfume bottle again. Dolphin shaped," she nodded.
"That... that is a pretty impressive memory, miss," Rebby remarked.
"Oh... yes... I'm... like that," she blushed, knocking herself in the head with a hoof.
"And yesterday. Something went missing yesterday, didn't it?" said Canary, emotionless.
"Y...yes, how did you know? It was one of my new cloud puffers..."
Canary swung around to Rebby. "Berry? Go back and report to Staff Sergeant Blue Beat. Now. We're dealing with a sweeper."
"A... what?"
"I'll tell you later. Go."
Rebby, confused but still eager to fulfil her task, turned, exited, and darted off down the street, helmet blaring.
Canary turned yet again, back to face the worried Duriandal.
"Now. I have one last question to ask you. And this is very important. With your... ability of recollection I don't think we should have many problems here, but."
She gathered her thoughts.
"In the past few days, you would have had a customer. Someone who had always come but never bought anything. She may have hung around for periods, always looking, and usually holding items for a long time, but never buying."
"Yes... yes, I think there was somepony that sounds like what you mentioned. She was... a lilac Pegasus. Straight, light orange hair. Her cutie mark was... three stalks of Lavender. In fact, I think that's what her name was. Lavender... Lavender Trails. I'm sure of it."
"How do you know that?"
"Oh... oh gosh..." Duriandal's hoof flew to her mouth as she suddenly realised what happened.
"There was... someone else. Another pony. She was asking about her. I didn't think anything of it at the time. But she mentioned her by name. Asked me if I knew that lilac pony... I told her... I told her... all I knew... oh my... goodness... I... did I...?"
"No. No you didn't. You had nothing to do with this, you understand?" Canary said, severely. "Don't start thinking you ever are to blame for this."
Duriandal let out a breath of air from her nose. "Al... alright."
"Now this is the important part. This pony who was asking after this Lavender Trails. Do you remember anything about her? Anything at all?"
Duriandal nodded.
"Yes. I do."
"Tell me then."
"She was... a unicorn. I remember she was purple, and had straight hair... but she was wearing a sort of dark cloak and I couldn't see much else. I'm sorry."
"Did she by any chance... any chance at all... give you a name?"
"Yes... yes, actually she did. When she came in she introduced herself quite formally."
"What was her name?"
"She said her name was..."
"...Twilight Sparkle. She said it was Twilight Sparkle."
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My Bucking Word!!!! Twilight Sparkle.I'm eagerly curious of how she's involved in this.By the way, what did this mean?
,---(*< ~---,
'-----------'
Oh, what's this? Reminds me of CSI.
Or Silence of the Lambs.