Spilled Ink

by Fiddlove Enfemme

12 - Searching

When I'd woken up, the sun had been rising. If the calendar was to be trusted, today was an equinox. On a typical equinox, sunrise would be expected around 6:00 am. I'd been under the bridge for 10, maybe 15 minutes before Quill had shown up. Then with Quill, I'd spent a maximum of an hour and a half. That probably put the current time somewhere between 7:40 and 7:45. The Festival of the Two Sisters, as was indicated on Pinkie's pamphlet, lasted for six hours when you included the festivities around it, beginning three hours before sunset and ending three hours past.

Assuming that today's equinox was following the textbook definition, sunset should have been at 6:00 pm, twelve hours after sunset. I couldn't say for certain, considering that magic lurked around every corner. It wasn't too much of a stretch to also assume that there was some sort of invocation or spell that adjusted the time of day. I tried to ignore the cosmic implications.

Thusly with my reasoning, the festival would officially start at 3:00 pm and end at 9:00 pm. I had plenty of time to find Pinkie and make amends, but I wanted to make sure that I did before tonight's festival even began. Why? Hard to say, but it was undeniable.

I would have apologised on principle alone, but there was something else to it. With Pinkie, there was something about how she carried herself, that aura of innocence and whimsy she had. I felt like a grandparent looking at their grandkid when she was around. Just smiles and fun times. I wasn't going to say that she was childish, because that word had the wrong sort of connotation. Somehow, she'd retained a semblance of how a little kid looked at the world; just wanting to have fun, wanting to experience good things. I didn't want to harm that at all.

But the trouble was, she was involved in just about every aspect of today's festival. That would make it difficult to figure out where exactly she could be. There was no doubt that she was thinking about last night, about how she'd scared me so bad that I'd run away, no doubt that it would stick out in her mind as she went about her day. Distract her. Like it was distracting me.

Damn these streets. Normally at this time they'd be less packed, but there were dozens upon dozens of stalls and attractions that had to be setup for the Festival, even discounting the ones that had been done yesterday and the day before. Some ways were blocked, others would be temporarily closed off for some sort of parade.

I'd been wandering around for a while before I saw a familiar pegasus flying just overhead. Ray's bags were full of bread as he was making his deliveries. I needed to get his attention, but how?

I pushed my way through the crowd, trying to trail Ray as best I could.

"Ray!" I called out to him.

He only just barely heard me over the din of the crowd, his ears perking up at his name. He looked over the crowd, wondering who'd called his name. I waved at him.

"Oh, hey dude," he answered as he landed before he gave me a concerned look, "What's up? You feeling alright?"

"Now I am, yeah. Listen, I need to find Pinkie Pie. Do you know where she is?" I pressed.

"No, haven't seen her since last night. What exactly happened there? Where did you go? Everypony was worried, except that author guy. Everything kinda just came out of left field here."

I sighed, "It's not something I want to talk about in public, personal history. Personal issues."

"Oh, I get it. You'll talk about it when you're ready. I won't pry," Ray reassured me, "But I gotta make my deliveries, so I need to get going."

"If you see Penny, could you tell her what I said?" I asked him, not really expecting much.

"Yeah, yeah. I will. Take care of yourself, dude." Ray smiled as he patted me on the shoulder. He turned away and took flight, going back to work.

His words had confirmed my suspicions, even if unintentionally. I needed to find someone else from last night to try and figure out where Pinkie was.

I thought to myself. Who would know Pinkie best, who might Pinkie tell if something wasn't right? I didn't know, but there were three suspects who fit the bill pretty well. Rags, Applejack and Starlight. Starlight would likely be at the school today, overseeing end-of-semester admin work. Applejack was almost always at the farm, doing... farm stuff. But Rags? I had a feeling that he'd be the most likely. As a musician, he'd need to okay his part of the event with the organisers, Pinkie being one of them. He'd be the one to have the most recent contact with Pinkie, and therefore more accurate knowledge of her whereabouts. I made my way towards the east end, to the old town. My first instinct was to check the speakeasy for him, or at least some sort of lead. It was better than wandering aimlessly. To the old town I walked.

---

The old town was awash in an uncharacteristic display of colour. From the gables hung long streamers, and banners stretched across the streets strung from tall poles. It was a lot more lively than I'd come to expect from the place, to be completely honest. I'd have been impressed with how festive it all looked if I hadn't been here on a mission.

At the door of the speakeasy, that same burly bouncer waited, with his leather jacket, aviators, and lavish magenta mane.

"Ink Blot," he greeted me. He wasn't particularly hostile, yet not particularly welcoming either.

"May I go in?" I asked him.

"Yes you may, since you used proper grammar." he nodded with a smirk.

"Would you still have let me in if I'd said it wrong?" I asked suspiciously.

"Perhaps." the bouncer said cryptically. I left him to his duty.

Just as expected, Rags was not here. What wasn't expected, was how busy the place was. It was probably the busiest I'd seen it so far. I looked around and saw no familiar faces. Well, except for the pegasus behind the bar, who seemed like an irreplaceable fixture of the place. He had a shaggy yellow mane that tumbled down the sides of his head like corn silk. Holding a glass up with his wing, he wiped it clean.

I made my way up to the counter, squeezing in beside a grizzled white unicorn who was muzzle deep in a comically oversized tankard.

"Sunrise Special today only, everything half-off," the bartender said without looking at me.

"Just a glass of water for me, thanks. I'm here for something else." I shook my head.

The bartender sighed, "If you're here because of the ad, forget it. You missed the ticket, some other fella came by and took care of it less than an hour ago."

"No, no, have you seen Rags today? The pianist?"

The bartender frowned, then nodded at me in understanding. "That's why you're familiar. You're the chatty fellow who came in last week. Baby Blue liked you, since you played along."

"Baby Blue? Who's Baby Blue?" I asked.

"Baby Blue's the bloke who sits around outside most days. He's in the business of painting houses, see? Just there's not much house painting these days, so I asked nicely and he watches the door for us. Keeps trouble away from us. And to answer the first question, no I haven't seen ol' Jonesy today. He said somethin' 'bout a gig up top, some fancy shindig in Canterlot. Might catch 'im if you pop by the station before noon." The bartender said, pouring water into the glass he'd been cleaning.

"Thank you." I said, carefully working the claw device to hold the cup. It worked like a charm, and I instantly felt at ease. I'd drink up then get on my way.

But, I couldn't help but eye the unicorn sitting next to me. He had an aura, one that the bouncer outside didn't. It spoke of experience, reminded me of... something. A set of scars rippled across his face. When he set down his overlarge tankard, he noticed me looking at him. Saying nothing, he met my gaze. There was no hesitation behind his eyes.

"There's something different about you." I said after a few moments.

"Aye. Same to you, boy." he grunted. That's when I noticed the glint of metal on a his chest, a row of them in fact, hanging from the lapel he wore. "You see these?" he asked, pointing to them, "These are all I have left."

"Left of what?" I asked hesitantly.

He took his head in his hooves, leaning on the bar. "All I have left from my glory days. Get me a cider and I'll tell you about it. It's not exactly a happy story, so I'll be needing it."

"Not today, I'm afraid." I said.

"Fair enough. I doubt you'd want to hear my war stories anyway."

My ears perked up. "War stories? Which war?"

He laughed. "Ha! Not a war, a series of failures and disappointments more like. Not a war like in the history books. I say war stories because those're the only thing to call them. There's not much to say about "peace stories" anyway."

"What's your name? I don't have the time for it today, but maybe we can talk when I do."

"Name's Pike. Used to be Sergeant Pike, before I got discharged. Served over 15 years in the Royal Guard, ten years of dutiful service and five of incident after incident after incident. And now? A year drunk. Plus three months."

"Good to meet you, then. I'm Ink Blot. Are you here tomorrow or the day after?" I asked

"He's here pretty much every day, opening til closing," the bartender shook his head disapprovingly.

Pike sighed and swirled his cider around his tankard, saying "Thank you for reminding me of my rampant alcoholism, Thatch. I was starting to forget it because of all my traumatic experiences over the past 5 years."

"Just sayin'. Ain't healthy, dude." the bartender shrugged.

"Don't I know it." Pike replied as he downed the last of his tankard.

I thanked the bartender for his help, and drank my glass of water before starting to make my way to the train station.

---

The train station was quiet for a train station. It wasn't very large or grand; really it was just an elevated platform with a small baggage building beside it. A single bored stationmaster sat in the ticket booth and read the morning newspaper, while two baggage handlers chatted idly at one end of the platform. I looked and looked, but could find no sight of Rags. The large clock that would normally be used to signal train arrivals and departures had been taped over with a sign reading Out of Order.

"Excuse me," I said to the ticketmaster. "Has the train to Canterlot left yet?"

He glanced at me over his newspaper. "The morning train? Yes. Noontide Express? It should be on the way shortly. Need a ticket?"

"No, no, I'm just seeing someone off and wasn't sure when they were leaving." I shook my head.

"You'll have plenty of time before then, though any sane pony would have their stuff at the station ready to go at least half an hour early." the ticketmaster said without looking up.

"Thank you." I replied. The ticketmaster did not respond.

Waiting was exactly what I didn't want to have to do, but this was my best option.

So, I sat down on one of the benches, and started thinking. What was I going to say? What did I want to say? I wanted to apologise, I wanted to explain myself. Though, I had no way of knowing that it would be understood by Pinkie or whoever else I told. I'd simply need to accept that possibility.

I don't know how long it was, but eventually I saw someone coming. Three someones, actually, and two of them were carrying some large boxes of equipment. I knew it was him before I even saw his powdery white mane or red-orange coat.

"Rags!" I called out to him. "I need to ask you something!"

"Oh, there you are, Inks my boy. I was wondering where you'd gotten off to. Ask away!" he called back.

"Do you know where Pinkie is? I need to find her and apologise." I said as he got close.

Rags's expression became quite serious, and he signaled his two roadies to drop the equipment off in the building. He sighed, "Inks. Everypony got a bit shook up because of last night. I expect you have a good reason, but this is the first time in the years that I've known her that Pinkie's signature Party Cannon has had such an effect. What exactly happened? Why did you run away, again?"

"It's related to my past, just like when I was at your concert. But it was... different. Not purely based on emotion. I reacted to the cannon instinctively, but I don't have a solid answer why. I ran away afterward because I was ashamed." I confessed.

"Well, at least it's an answer," Rags smiled joylessly. "Last I saw her, she was headed to a friend's place. Check the Carousel Boutique, even if it isn't open."

I nodded, and was about to head out right away when Rags stopped me in my tracks. He stared into my eyes like he was looking into my heart and soul, and he didn't like what he was seeing.

"Listen, if all you're going to do is hurt her more than you already have, do yourself a favour and pitch yourself off the nearest cliff. It'll be mercy compared to what I'll do. I won't give a damn about your sob story if you're gonna be causing trouble around here. Pinkie's a good kid, and there's a lotta folks less forgiving than me who'd put you in the dirt just for making her cry. So mark my words when I say, watch your step." Rags whispered to me, but his words were as loud as a train whistle to me. They chilled me to the bone.

"I... I will." I barely managed to spit out. Rags must've been satisfied by my reaction, because all his hostility melted away and he gave me a halfhearted smile before turning away.

In the brief time that I'd known him, I hadn't seen that side of him. I doubted that very many people had. I didn't really want to see it again. What mattered was that I knew where to find Pinkie.

---

The Carousel Boutique was a tall building I'd passed by more than a few times, but never really had interest in. Located on the western edge of town not far from the orchards amongst a group of temporary summer pavilions, it looked and felt like an establishment that thought over-much of itself. The outside was lavishly decorated with frilly overhangs, ornamental pillars, mannequins, all painted and dressed in pastel yellows and blues and pinks and violets. It didn't really look like my kind of place; I valued practicality and versatility in both architecture and dress. I suppose that made it the perfect place to hide from me.

Based on the exterior, I guessed that it was mostly selling fancy dress marketed for mares with the occasional tux or suit for the colts. Though that assumption seemed sort of odd. I mean, what sort of traditional dress was there when 90% of the population ran around with full-body coats of fur or feathers?

But then I remembered that cold weather was an important factor in the development of clothing. When it gets too cold for just your natural fur alone, add layers of fabric or... acquired fur... to make the cold more bearable. And in hot weather, having light and fluffy layers of clothing helped with heat regulation, particularly ones that allowed proper air circulation. Naturally, having the funds to afford clothing that was not made for either of those purposes would develop into clothing being used as a status symbol. The less functional and more showy the clothing was, the higher status you would therefore be.

Of course, I had no idea that any of that was true. Until I had my memories back fully, I was alien to this culture. A barbarian, if you used the original meaning of the term. I may as well have been making everything up on the spot.

All of those thoughts coursed through my head as I approached the building. The sign on the door was written in cursive, saying "Closed, except by appointment".

Undaunted, I knocked on the door, and waited.

I knocked again. Nothing.

So I started knocking again, and didn't stop until I heard a muffled voice from inside.

_{"Unless you're my 2 o'clock appointment, go away! Can't you read the sign?"} the voice said.

"It's urgent!" I shouted.

There was no reply, but I heard a series of almost frustrated hoofsteps from inside the building. The lock clicked, and the door swung open slightly, though the chain was still in place. A small filly, who I recognised as Sweetie Belle from the Cutie Mark Crusaders, peered through the opening.

"Wait, are you-?"

I cut her off before she could say anything else. "I need to speak to Pinkie Pie. Please, I have something she needs to hear," I pleaded.

Sweetie Belle frowned concernedly, and glanced over her shoulder. "How did you-?" she began to say, before she was abruptly pushed aside. by someone else.

"You!" an older white unicorn spat with unparalleled vitriol, as she glared through the opening at me. "You have some nerve coming here after what you did to her! Coming here at her most vulnerable moment, to hurt her even more! I won't let you! Go away and never return!"

"Wait!" I cried. I tried to say more, but the door was slammed shut in my face before I could finish. The deadbolt locked the door shut with a click.

There was the brief sounds of a hushed argument on the other side of the door, probably between the two unicorns.

I took a deep breath and sighed, "I'm here to apologise," I said, hoping that I'd be heard through the door.

The hushed argument stopped as soon as I said it. There was another click, and the door was opened again. "You can apologise just fine from the other side of this door. It had better be good, or you're not coming in." the older white unicorn scowled through the small opening.

"No, no. Let him in," said Pinkie Pie from somewhere inside. Her voice was heavy with sadness, she'd probably been crying.

"Are you sure?" asked the unicorn.

"Yeah. I've got a feeling about him." Pinkie replied. After a few moments, the door was unchained and I was allowed inside. The inside of the boutique was much like what I'd expected, but that wasn't the point of my visit.

The two alabaster unicorns, whom I surmised to be siblings, stood on either side of the doorway. The older one seemed frustrated and angered by my presence, while Sweetie Belle was mostly just seemed confused. Based on my previous interaction with her, she was much wiser than she seemed.

Pinkie herself stood at the bottom of a long spiral staircase, which lead up to what would probably be where the two sisters lived. Her normally quite poofy mane was slightly deflated, and it was almost like her natural colour had drained slightly. "H-hey," she said, trying to smile but failing.

"Hey," I responded.

A tense moment passed before I could work up the courage to rest of the words. It just... felt like whatever I could say wouldn't be enough, even though it should have been. My mind stumbled with it at first, but soon i knew what I wanted to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what was going on, and I reacted poorly. I should have stayed, but I let my emotions get the better of me. Again." I said finally.

It wasn't much, but it was genuine. She could tell. How did I know? She slowly walked over to me, and embraced me. I'd caused her distress, and she was the one hugging me. There was only one thing I could do. One thing I had to do.

I hugged her back.

I don't know how long we sat there, on the showroom floor, and I didn't care. I was comforting her, and she was comforting me. In a bizarre way it made me happy.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how you were going to react, and I ended up doing something you were uncomfortable with. And then you ran away. I thought you weren't going to come back. I thought you weren't going to get your memory back, because of me." Pinkie whispered into my ear as we continued to embrace eachother.

I don't know which of us let go first, but it didn't matter either way. All we had to do was look in the other's eyes, and we knew that all was forgiven.

"I remembered something, thanks to you. Do you want to talk about it?" I asked softly.

"Yeah," she said with a nod and a slight smile. "Do you mind if we sit upstairs, Rarity?"

I looked over my shoulder at the sisters. Sweetie looked on at the two of us solemnly, moved by our display of emotional maturity. Rarity, the older of the two, who earlier had been filled with barely contained rage now seemed like she was empty. She nodded wordlessly, though I couldn't tell if she was lost in silent reflection or simply unable to process what had transpired. I hoped it was the former.

With her acceptance, Pinkie and I took the stairs up, and entered what looked to be a dining room. It was humble, deceptively so for the decor outside. I sat at the table, and Pinkie sat across from me, though both Sweetie and Rarity came upstairs as well.

"What did you remember?" Pinkie asked, some of her colour coming back.

"Not very much, but what I pieced together from it explained a few things, or at least what happened when I saw your cannon," I said sombrely, "It wasn't a natural reaction, rather one that had been trained into me. I think I was a soldier, before I lost my memory."

"Like one of the Royal Guards?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"Maybe. The important part was that I identified the party cannon as a potentially dangerous weapon and reacted accordingly. The only reason I can think of for having been trained to react like that is being a soldier." I tried to explain my reasoning.

"Wait, did I miss something?" Rarity asked.

"Ink Blot lost his memory because of a curse, now he's trying to get his memories back." Sweetie Belle helpfully informed her.

I grimaced. "It's slightly more complex than that now, but that's the gist of it. Since I have you here, I think I should get the obvious question out of the way. Do any of you know of any wars in recent memory? Any that I could have been involved in over the past few years? Any within recent memory?"

"Well, there was the Storm King..." Sweetie trailed off.

"Darling, that was hardly a war." Rarity shook her head.

"Yes it was! You weren't there! You were off with Twilight, going to Mount Aris." Sweetie countered.

"So was I," Pinkie reminded her. "And Applejack. And Fluttershy. And Rainbow Dash. And Spike, who could forget Spike?"

"Yeah, but you didn't know what it was like trying to fight them. Trying to escape. What it was like getting captured. What it was like knowing that everyone you ever loved was either captured or too far away to help. What it was like losing all hope when you saw that Twilight had finally been captured, too." the filly listed, her eyes growing distant.

"Sweetie Belle, you never said-"

"Nopony ever says! Nopony ever wants to talk about it! Nopony wants to remember the time Equestria was invaded and almost destroyed!" she shouted.

Pinkie smiled wryly, "There's a lot of times that Equestria was invaded and/or almost destroyed. The six of us were involved in almost all of them in one way or another."

"How many times? Can you write them down for me? I want to do some research, figure some things out." I requested.

"Well, at least fourteen times that I can remember. Maybe a few more that I don't. That's what I get for being an Element of Harmony!" Pinkie listed.

"Wait, Element of Harmony? What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, so basically there's these six elements that are all about Friendship. I'm Laughter, Rarity is Generosity, blah blah blah, and Twilight is the sixth element, Magic, which shows up when the other five are all grouped together. When we get together we can shoot rainbows! Solves a lot more problems than you might expect," she explained wistfully, "There's probably a few books about it. Ask Starlight maybe?"

"I will. And Sweetie Belle, consider finding someone who is willing to listen, even if they don't want to talk. There's some things that you shouldn't bottle up and hide away."

"Yeah, I know. It's just hard to talk about it when nopony else is." Sweetie said, looking away.

"Hell, I'll listen, even if I'll have no idea what you're talking about," I smiled, trying to be supportive. "Sometimes near-complete strangers have a different perspective or understanding of things. Wisdom can come from anywhere."

The filly nodded sagely. "That's true." she replied.

A silence came over the room and table, which I took as my cue to leave. "Thank you for listening to me. I admire your maturity."

"Funny thing, when you spread happiness you start to get a feel for all the other emotions too. I just like happiness more, and being responsible makes it easier to get back to having fun," Pinkie smiled, the colour having finally returned to her and her mane being as poofy as it always was.

Rarity said nothing, conflicted on how she should feel. On one hoof she'd been willing to protect her friend from harm, but on the other she had been misguided in her attempt. I reassured her that it was alright as she escorted me back down the stairs, though I don't know if she took it to heart or not.

What I did know, was that a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders by our conversation. I was able to return to the castle hopeful for the future.