I am a thief. Never have i been trusted. Never have i been loved. I have only ever trusted my life to the night that hides me. The moon guides me when my eyes fail me. The stars comfort me when i have grief. The night is one with me. I am a thief
Few are the profession that require the night as much as a thief, and few are pony's that understand the nights importance. The night's wind whispers to me, whispers of the things her shadows hath touched; she guides me when my eyes cannot and she knows of me as i know of her. If i was not a thief, i could not live in under the night's magnificence. I feel what the night feels for we are one. And i am her thief.
A midnight breeze glided between my ears and filled the openings of my clothing commanding my nerves to shudder. Adorning my body was a jet black garb, an equally dark hood that hid my forehead and a cloth atop my muzzle, showing only my alabaster eyes. The garb covers the majority of my body, leaving only my forearms bare above the fetlock to the bottom of my shoulder. My horn jutted from a hole in the top of my hood; a dim shallow glow wrapped around it, careful not to emit any light. I trotted calmly forward and my focus was mostly set on trying not to look backward, or rather; in this case down seeing as at the time I was several thousand feet in the air above Canterlot.
I stood high above the streets of the city, climbing along the side of the tower as if I were on the ground rather than a stupidly tall castle standing on an city that hung an equally superfluous height from the mountain. At this point I was nearing small windowsill that poked out the side of the wall and I reared into a forward leap, releasing the spell I had been focusing on. My fetlock locked firmly across the the ledge as I felt the spell wore off and the crushing influence of gravity take hold; shifting my entire weight onto my already aching hooves. In my time as a thief I have had to dangle from more ledges than the amount of days I since I first stole from someone and yet I still get a slight urge in my stomach to throw up every time I do it.
Resisting the urge to look down; I pushed myself atop the windowsill and gently pushed the window up, letting the winds current spread across the hallway. My hooves silently landed on the carpeted floor as the wind brushed across me. The wind purred softly into my ear sending shivers down my spine; I could feel the wind around me and the wind inside the hall that quickly spread across the intersection of hallways ahead of me. I could feel every candle that stood in every sconce in every hall that held every door when every lace of wind brushed upon its surface. I could feel everything.
My silent hooves fell down several halls unbeknownst to any and all, my body shifted when the wind did; if the wind blew right then I went right and if the wind blew left I go left. Most thief's learn the layout of the area that they plan to steal from by past experience in the place or intensive studying if it is particularly large. I do not. Every time I steal from someplace the only thing I know for certain is that there is something of value inside and that i want it. This something just happens to be extremely valuable and risky; two things that I just happen to look for in a theft and this theft would be against royalty. Most would call me a fool for even thinking of stealing from royalty, but to steal from The Royal Sisters themselves? All would call that possibly the most inexpedient way to get banished.
I call it a two & a half million bits worth of shiny overly decorated objects just asking to get taken.
Now it should be known that although I am stealing from these sisters that should not mean I hold malice toward them, no no, far from it. There have been many a theft I have committed against pony's I hold no grudges against and more often that not I take mementos from particularly memorable hauls, for personal sentiment only. This also does not mean I feel no guilt for taking something. Several minutes shot by as did several hallways and my once limp saddle bags were now stuffed with a small amount of loot; among the loot were various things that happened to stand out to me like vases, fancy candle holders and paintings I had rolled into my bag, but I still needed more, a lot more. As I skulked down the halls, looking for more fancy paintings I suddenly felt my ear twitch ahead of me, I hear somepony's hoofsteps from a hallway on the left. I froze and focused my attention entirely on the vibrations of this potential witness. My horn glowed vibrantly again; in a single silent leap my hoofs rested atop the ceiling as I went into a crouch and dimmed my glowing protrusion. Sure enough a guard rounded the corner; looking extraordinarily bored while whistling an off key tune that was far more annoying than anything ever should be. Ever. I peered at him from the shadows, a blank expression plastered the guards face while his bright golden armor reflected the candlelight as he grew near; making him look like a walking flame, albeit a very bored and annoying flame that happened to be amazingly bad at whistling. The moment he walked right under me was the moment for me to strike; faster than lighting, both my hooves shot toward the guard in an instant.
When they pulled back I now had bag filled with bits and a very decorative helmet in my hooves, while the guard simply trotted along, still violating the air with his awful whistling, seemed to not notice that he now had a frilly pink vase on his head. I stuffed the helmet and pouch in an empty saddle bag before releasing the spell and gently falling back down to the floor. Then, with my hoof's now hushed; I trotted off round the corridor the guard had come from.
The moons great glow gazed through all the windows in the castle, as if she were a giant eye watching her otherworldly residents sleep soundly and without fear of those who would wish them harm. Her shadow shrouded me in my endeavor to steal from the very princesses who had created her. Enrapture flooded my mind with thoughts of the stars, as I gazed foreword unto the constellations. My hooves felt the familiar cobblestone exterior of the grand castle wall as my now brimmed bags weighed against my back. My bags were filled with loot aplenty, scrolls from the grand library, paintings, necklaces, sword hilts, teacups, teapots, silverware, several dozen bags of bits, and to top it all off a decorated chalice of gold, used by Celestia herself. The scrolls had been rather painful acquiring, for some reason the books were none too keen on my intrusion, somehow gaining sentience as well a tiny urge to brutally strangle me. Several dozen times. The rest of the loot was from various guards, waiters, and a handful of just simply unlucky folk that happened to have far too many decorations on them than some would deem healthy, while the chalice was just sitting next to a half eaten pound of cheesecake in the main dining hall. Yet even with such a fine amount of loot there was still room, still room for the greatest prize worth the greatest risk. A pair of very magical and very valuable set of jewelry, a set of jewelry that would soon become mine. Now I wanted these not for the magical properties or even the money, no i wanted them for a very different reason. The only reason.
Because I can. Because I will.
Sure I have bits and sure I have fame, I could have any object that I could ever want; but the ultimate prize is no object, it is something I cannot touch, it is something I cannot see, it is knowing that I could. Knowing that I could steal from the sun herself and knowing that the moon would help me do it. The moon will shroud the sun thief, and I will get what I want. I always do.
The wind flowed her touch against my forelegs, and her song sung to the stone and told of every crack, every window, and every indent to my ears. Directly above me, a balcony grew close and I quickly found myself standing on the underside of the balcony; although unfortunately my stomach had turned against me and I was very quickly becoming struck with vertigo. My hooves locked against the railing as i, once again, released my spell. Silent hooves descended on the once thief-less room; the moons glowing ribbons divulged a large double sided door across from the balcony. A large bright red and gold rug decorated the floor of the large circular room from the balcony to the door across it, while beanbag chairs, cushions, small tables and countless books and scrolls littered the quaint personal lounge. Two moderately sized doors stood across each other; to the left was a large blue and black door and to the right was an equally large door but instead of the colors of the night, it adorned the colors white and gold of the sun.
I rummaged in every drawer and checked every bookshelf and every scroll, when my rummaging ended and my loot having some new friends to keep them company in my saddle bags, I closed my eyes...and waited. I waited for an answer to a choice, as I do every choice. Slowly, a cool breeze blew and held my bones in ice. The wind nibbled softly on my right ear while it twitched in excitement. So right it is then. My horn glowed its shallow light around my horn as I walked forward toward the door; walking through it completely rather than opening it for I can now depend not to awaken any who otherwise would hear the door sing its disruptive song. The room was of a moderate size in the shape of a very odd bean. To the left was a small circular room, bookshelf's stood as a council for the ornate desk in the middle. To the right was an equally circular room; bookshelf's of lesser amount strewn with knickknacks and small amounts of books as well as another balcony, beckoning the moons soft gleam across each bookshelf. In front of me was a small double sided wooden door that opened to a small circular bedroom, a regal vanity was to the left of the room, and to the right was an open closet with clothes, dresses and shoe boxes; yet in the middle against the wall lied a queen sized regal bed, complete with a sleeping princess inside.
The breeze led me to the vanity, where I found my prize resting upon it in a pile. The golden jewelry's elegant shine leaped out at me as the wind whispered for me to take it and, naturally, I complied. After pocketing the jewelry I found my attention drawn to the sleeping princess, or more appropriately, drawn to her mane; as her mane was one of the most breathtakingly beautiful things that I had the enjoyment of seeing. It danced around as if it were alive, moving with another winds unseen requests. The thought of having even a hair of it was a rather dominate thought in my mind at the moment; although most would find it odd to break into a mares room and steal a lock of her hair, the thought never seemed to cross my mind as I was far more focused on making sure she did not wake up in front of an idiot trying to steal some of her hair. Ever so carefully I weaved my magic on the end of her mane, Celestia shifting slightly as I snagged a small piece of her mane; my attempts yielded successful as i strung a rubber band around the lock of hair before resting it in a small pocket on my back leg. My hooves found their way into several drawers, dresses and shoe boxes; trying to find something Celestia wanted hidden; eventually I found my hooves resting on a thin, quaintly sized book; a quick shuffle of the pages revealed that this was probably a photo album. Eight pictures were tucked in indents on each page; although this album would fetch a high price to most, I had no desire to show off all of the princesses personal memories to random pony's who cared little of them and wanted it simply for gossip and bragging purpose's.
The price of an individuals belongings only goes as far as another's desire for them, but personal belongings go no farther than I let them. Sometimes they can be priceless. I glided the book into a fold in my garb and assured that it would not fall from my grasp. My bags were beginning to weigh me down and I only had room for a touch more; my horn glowed again as I passed through the door into the main lounge. Suddenly my ear twitched furiously.
My hooves spread out into a defensive stance; the air curved around my body and rippled across the opening in my face as i smelt of the wind for an instigator. I had missed something, something important, something fundamental.
I forgot to check the other door.
Of course; dead in front of me, was Luna's door, and sure enough; it was very clearly open. Yet there was no vibrations, no sound, no smell, nothing. But I could feel something, something I had not felt before. I felt someone see me.
"Turn. Slowly." Was the sound upon my ears, a strange calmness adorning her voice. The feeling of being caught was a feeling that gripped my heart with unspeakable excitement. In my time as a thief i have never been caught. Not once. Not ever. Yet fate decided that the boundary's of 'Not now, not ever' did not apply to her.
Slowly and steadily I turned toward my witness, my head set its focus on this mare. Standing right there, a straight twelve O'clock from me, was the quintessential of the night herself; Princess Luna. She had a flowing mane like her sister, every constellation seemed to embody her ethereal mane. There was clear frustration in her stare as well as well as a strange recognition of calm that I would not have expected. Her stare was unblinking, it never shifted, it never faulted, all it took was one blink, simply one moment of darkness was all I needed to disappear from this being forever; her stare seemed to reinforce the idea that she understood this. A long silence accompanied our stare, both of us simply looked at each other; my glare meeting hers with perfect synchronicity. The night was silent in her whispers; for there was naught to say. Luna's voice parted the wind first. "...What is your name?" I replied with my silence. Luna continued her glare upon me, she too seemed not to falter when the wind blew across her. "...Why have you stolen from us?" Calm laced her voice.
"Because they were valuable." Thickness however laced mine. My throat ached from use of my rarely used voice.
Luna simply continued her gaze. Another long, calm, silence drifted in the air. "Then why have you taken our album?" My alabaster eyes drifted down slowly toward the book at my side and stared at it vigorously. After a long grip of silence and several waves of guilt I slowly and silently opened a small pocket; a bright lock of glowing hair lifted from the pouch and rested inside the book before I held it aloft to the princess. She simply continued to stare at me, not losing her incessant gaze. Eventually I felt the princess take hold of the book and slowly tuck it under her wing. "Are you going to punish me? Or are you being kind?" My voice husked from my underused glottis. "You stole from my sister, she is the one to decide your fate. I will not harm you." Luna said calmly and without spite or malice. Something I would expect by now. "Then I will wait for your sister to awaken." I walked backwards slowly and proceeded to sit down, beginning another long, cold pause that continuously filled the chambers.
Minutes ticked away, and I allowed my eyes to wander across the room, now occasionally blinking; which could not be said for Luna. "...If I look away; will you flee?" My eyes locked unto to hers. "Yes." Luna gazed at me once more before she sat down from where she was standing; still retaining her gaze she slowly, but visibly, loosed her sore muscles. I left my eyes to wander again as I shifted into a slightly more comfortable position. "...Why are you a thief?" I locked my eyes on here once more. "Hmm?" "You do not strike me as the kind of pony who would become a thief, what has made somepony like you live as a criminal?" My eyes waned as I took in a long, deep inhale through my nose and a long, deep exhale through my mouth; prepared for a talk I knew would happen eventually, then I looked her in the eyes. "My special talent is a part of me, it represents who I am and all I will ever be. Most pony's who learn of my talent are frightened, frightened for their objects and family; as trust comes naught to thief's." My throat ached for silence. "Certainly there must be alternatives for someone with your skills, such as guards or even the night watch." She said, trying to steer me away from the thought of stealing. "I cannot be a guard or a farmer, or a wizard, or a bouncer; as I have no knowledge as one. I am not a thief by fate, I am a thief by choice. I was born to steal, it is all I know, and all I can know." I peered right into Luna's pupils and she studied them with hers. Her eyebrow's raised slightly, and surprise held her mouth open as she understood what my alabaster eyes were telling her.
"...You are blind."
A long deep pause held the room in ice. Luna's mouth was now mouth was agape and she looked at me; clearly baffled she had not noticed my plight sooner. "How?" was all she could force past her lips. My bleached alabaster eyes looked at her as if they could understand the world around them.
"When I said I could not know any but thievery, I said with pride, not with sadness. I have learned to use my talent to find new eyes, and find them I did. I found the night. Every gust of wind that touches me whispers to me. Whispers of all it has touched before me and all the gusts that touched it in turn. A thief must live in shadow, but not all live with it. Every night I gaze toward the stars and feel all the beauty that echos in its infinite halls; impossible halls of constellations and nebula's more vast than any just to remind myself of the only beauty I have ever known to trust me. I do not need my eyes. The moons greatest glow casts the greatest shadow. The moon gives me her glow as my eyes and her shadow hides me from all who wish me harm in this world; a world that I have never and can never see. I am a thief because a thief needs the night. And I need her."
Silence.
Luna gazed into my dead eyes, mouth slightly open with a clear enrapturing flood of surprise stuck to her face. Yet again I felt something foreign shiver across my body as she gave me something truly priceless. She gave me her trust.
Luna finally managed to regain herself and sit upright. "...Most pony's sleep under my moon and pay it little thought unless they need to, but I have never seen someone so...per fervidly devoted to my night...simply because of her beauty." I remained silent and continued to stare at her.
After another long pause Luna directed her attention from the floor unto my eyes. "What you did was treachery to both me and my sister...but I am willing to forgive you under a condition." My eyebrows raised "Oh?"
"Leave your bags here and let us return what you have stolen." I gazed at Luna for a long long time, contemplating of my choice. This was not a choice the wind could make for me. I must do this without her silent words.
"...Alright." Luna smiled softly at me.
I slowly rose from my haunches and walked toward the balcony, gazing at the stars. I felt Luna walk up to my left, still staring at me. She ruffled her feathers and took that album from under her wing; taking the lock of hair out and tucked it back in with her wing as she held the book up to me. I raised my eyebrow to her. "It is not stealing if it is a gift." She said offering me her album. I stared at that book for quite a lot of time.
"Why?" I eventually shot at Luna Luna gave me a quizzical look. "Why would you gift me something I tried to steal? Why?" I said looking back unto Luna "Because I do not think you have had a gift in a long time." I stared at the album again. I looked back up to Luna; a small warm grin on her mouth.
"...Thank you." I took the album from her grasp and started to pocket the book. I looked down trying to slide the book into a small pouch on my back leg until- "If you decide to steal again, try not to take another mares hair...without asking." A small sly grin grew on her lips and I gave her the best sarcastic face I could under a cowl; she seemed to notice as she giggled at me.
I stood upright and let my saddle bags fall to the stony floor; releasing my loot. I gazed once more toward the sky and took in the nights wind around me. I felt Luna's voice once more: "Will you still leave if I look away?" She asked softly
"Yes." I responded
"...Will you come back?"
"...Yes." Luna took in the night air and leaned closer to me before whispering a very soft 'Goodbye' into my ear, and then when a breeze blew by she pulled her gaze toward the sky.
Atop the highest ledge upon the highest tower of the regal castle was a black and dark blue figure' cowl now serving more purpose as a scarf while it wrapped around his shoulders showing his dark magenta hair. The figure sat upright on his haunches atop the small wooden ledge and peered at the city below. His gaze now focused to a set of small photographs held aloft, gazing and squinting at them, trying desperately to be able to see the picture in front of him. He fiddled with those photos in almost every way, flipping them, folding them, and even smelling them. A frustrated look was growing on his face as he tried and tried to see what was on this offending piece of laminated paper, yet the frustrated look on his face grew and his ability to see the picture did not. The thief huffed and then took a deep shuddering breath as he pocketed the photos and willed himself to calm down, he soon found himself fighting back the urge to weep as well. His hooves slowly came to his face and rested atop his eyelids; a cold shuddering breathing could be heard as he held his eyelids down.
The thief's breaths became controlled and silent again, he looked toward a balcony. inside a dim glow radiated outward from within; several voices filled the night air, all emanating from a circular study bathed in candlelight. Inside were two sisters, both looking incredibly furious; they continued to argue about what the thief could only guess was his talk with Luna. He began to think back to what they both said and how he somehow wasn't on the sun; or worse. He also thought about him having failed to steal something on such an idiotic mistake as just forgetting to check a door to see if it was open. He thought of Luna and how he managed to talk his way out of being vaporized. What didn't sit right with the thief was in honesty, his words were the truth, he had so effortlessly given back his loot for the first time; he gave it back so willingly just because Luna told her to.
A strange feeling embraced the thief, it wasn't the cold, no he liked the cold; so that just couldn't be the feeling he was having. Was it sadness? No that couldn't be it either; he spent enough of his life in sadness to know what it felt like. This was bugging him, he wanted to think of other things, yet every time he always came back to this feeling. It wasn't a nasty feeling, no it felt quite nice, it filled his thoughts of various smells he enjoyed and reminded him of the stars. Groaning he held his head in his hooves as a massive headache seared his brain. Tired, sad and feeling that strange feeling once more, he eventually pulled out the photographs from earlier, he quickly lost himself in thought of wonder to what the photographs held as he began to fiddle with them once more.
Luna trotted out her door and into the lounge; her mane and tired eyes looked about as well as she felt, a complete mess. The constellations in her mane were stolen by tangles, curls, and knots galore; culminating into a visibly bedridden pile of hair that clung to the back of her neck. She released a long arduous exhale from her rather sore throat before falling into a blue beanbag chair; a small tiny coffee table to the left of it; with sleep still hanging under her eyelids, she hung her head back and looked over the lit room. Rays of vigorous sunbeams illuminated the slightly dusty air, a calm atmosphere lingering in the small dances of the light. Luna's gaze turned to the sound of the large main door behind them that were being opened by two large guards; on the right side of the door was a golden day guard, to the left a dark night guard and trotting through the now widely open door was a slightly bulky white earth pony in a waiters outfit. Upon the waiter was a large mullet in a most ridiculous shade of bright pink and a tray on his back which held two teacups and a pot of coffee in the middle, a brush in front, and a small rectangular tin in the back. He strode forward to the coffee table and bent his neck down to let the tray slide off unto it. "Good afternoon my princess, did you sleep well?" He asked removing the top of the tin to reveal an assortment of sweeteners. "I suppose i have had better in the past." She said pouring a cup of the black liquid into her once empty teacup while several packets of sugar were ripped open and dunked into her coffee. The waiter held a small frown while he grasped the brush around his fetlock before standing upright behind the princess and started to reinvigorate her matted hair. "I am truly sorry to hear that my princess; may i ask what it is that kept you awake?" He pondered toward Luna; who was stirring around her drink with a small wooden chopstick; white and black now creating small shapes on the surface. "Oh i was just thinking of something...important to me." She began to swirl around the shapes in her coffee while the waiter made some visible progress with her mane. "...I know it is not my right to ask, but i care about my princess and whatever is making you lose some of your well deserved sleep should be important to me is well." He asked steadily Luna remained silent when she found the shapes in her coffee to be of some interest. After a small amount of time Luna asked a question to the waiter. "Silver; may i ask you a...personal question?" The waiter faltered a tad; a little concerned he might have been too invasive to the princess; still he complied nonetheless "O-of course your Majesty." His stutter returning to agitate him once more. "If...if you did not enjoy being a waiter, but instead always wanted to become something like a chariot puller; even though you were always told you needed to cater, would you still be a chariot puller?" The waiter was taken aback by such a question; quite convinced this was the princesses strange way of telling him he would have to pull chariots as some sort of punishment for his intrusiveness; but yet again he figured it would be best to comply with the moon princess. "Well i s-suppose if the need to become a-a...chariot puller was g-g-great enough th-th-then i suppose i would just h-have to become one." He hated it when he was nervous, it always brought his vile stutter out. "But what if you did not have to?" She said diverting her gaze from the coffee to Silver's slightly shaking form. "I-i am not sure i underst-st-st-STAND the-the question m-my princess."
I do not want to pull chariots, I do not want to pull chariots, I really REALLY do not want to pull chariots
Luna guessed she had misused her words, as he was now fumbling with his brush and shaking all over the place. "Well...if you wanted to be a waiter all your life and felt that nothing would drive you from it then; would you still do what all said you must do despite your desire?" She looked to the clamming waiter. "And no Silver i am not trying to make you so nervous and i am most certainly not going to make you pull chariots, you may calm yourself." She said slightly chuckling. At the sound of her assurances he chuckled a little as well and began to regain himself again. "O-oh good i-i was worried there for a second a-hah-ha...ha." Luna giggled and felt him go back to brushing without shaking violently. "W-well uh-uhm, as to your question then i...well...hmm." He thought deeply of Luna's question with the thoughts of chariots out of his mind; and understood what she was actually asking of him. "Well i became a waiter because it just felt...appropriate. I enjoyed meeting new people and having them trust me with their own well being, and i guess...i guess it just came more naturally than something like...chariot pushing." He cringed at the awful thought. Luna had focused her attention to her coffee, occasionally sipping from its confliction of bitter and sweet; inhaling as it worked its magic, not noticing Silver Platter had just finished his meticulous grooming. "All done my princess." He said walking over to the coffee table and placing the brush on the tray. "Oh thank you Silver, you always are a great help to me." She quirked at the waiter, as he carefully placed the teacup, pot, and tin on the small table before taking the tray back unto him. "I need not your thanks my princess your well being; is my well being." He bowed before slowly turning and trotting off back through the door as the homogeneously conflicting guards slowly closed the great hunk of wood. Luna's mane now floated carelessly again, as did her thoughts on Silvers words.
She laid her cup; drained of its bitter magic back onto the table before walking to the balcony. It was a beautiful day; the denizens of Canterlot mulled about daily duties, talking, laughing, and living. Luna's lungs were filled of the lights warmth yet again as she relaxed one more time before quickly losing herself in thought of someone else.
A chilling wind blew from the hot embrace of the suns air as if it had bested the suns attempt to commit her to warmth. I smiled for her victory while the cold acted as her monument of the challenge she won. I followed her to the entrance she had used and trotted through the rays of sun that pierced the holes in the ruined velvet curtains that lined the semicircular hole in the concrete wall. Upon pushing past the still beautiful red curtains, I was greeted with the warmth that flayed my skin outside on the wooden balcony. My haunches fell with a silent thump on the wood surface as I basked in the glorious light of the sun. I looked below my small plank of wood several stories down unto a concrete floor in an alley I had sealed myself with carefully placed piles of filth and garbage to ward off any who care enough about they're now rare yet valuable perfume they slathered on themselves each morning. Said perfume that has been somehow been going missing from such said pony by an 'unseen individual' around Canterlot. I wonder who. I felt the wind breeze blow against me and rush past into my headquarters; showing my mind the place I have come to know as home. I was on the top floor of a five story apartment block in a rather snooty section of Canterlot; the whole section I call home has been sealed and carpeted over, allowing none but nosy construction workers who may find they had read the blueprints wrong and instead were bribed by some 'unseen individual' to go tear the contractors house apart. In order to even attempt getting to the floor one must traverse a series of redundant and complex set of rooftops built by other easily bribe-able construction workers. Even if one such as yourself does something so exhausting you would need a grapple to even come close to reaching the very balcony I stood upon at the time. Needless to say nopony ever will or ever has found my home, and I intend keep it that way. Behind my gaze the wind blew softly into my home revealing my large grocery store sized interior. From the very far back-middle started lines and lines of wooden shelf's that led from the back to the front toward a set of stars going up left before twisting around to the right unto a scaffolding that allowed use of the balcony. To the far right held a small open space flanked by lockers that housed my essentials and practice dummy's I used when my senses started to fail. To the far left held desks, scrolls, and forged letters strewn around in a circle that held my maps and requests from my fences for particular items I retrieved not long ago. I use a mix of heavy charcoal and inkwells of strong cologne as a substitute for lead or ink, as it has a particular smell that lets me form the shapes I am unable to see otherwise; the cocktail of cologne and charcoal is also an easy mix fences who need my service can replicate easily on letters sent via carrier pigeon. I looked out across the sunny streets lined with cafe's and tables and struggled slightly for the wind to whisper the citizens shapes to me as the suns cruel spotlight shone upon all that I could see. Only in bad moods was I able to operate in daylight, when I needed the rushing excitement of adrenaline that I felt doing something usually when I was at a clear disadvantage. I cannot use the suns light as my eye, for it is too bright and hides the stars from me. I cannot use its warm wind as my touch, for it is to hot and scolds like everything else. I cannot gaze unto the sun, for it is too lost in its own glory to allow any but herself to view her beauty, but the moon needs the sun to cast her light and although I cannot live with the sun, I can still be loving to her. Now, for me, the value of an object is the desire of a fences greed, but my greed was one for challenge. Today I was calm. Today was a day when all the plans had been planed and all the requests have been fulfilled. Today I had nothing to do, so I did what I usually do with nothing. I find something else. I inhaled the warmth once again before I trotted off behind me and jumped down from my scaffold, sending a furious dance of dust into the rays of light as I began to walk about the maze of shelf's. Upon the wooden shelf lied books, scrolls, knickknacks and memento's of memorable thefts that I passed by as I traversed the maze of shelf's. I ran my hoof across a particular shelf and looked toward the object of my interest. The photo album.
I took it from its spot on the shelf and trotted off to the far left side of the room. I placed it down on the table; carefully pushing a map of Ponyville away; I grazed my hoof over the top of it as the night from before slid back into my mind. As I began to flip across pages of photos that could hold anything from alicorn's to zebra's; I felt an empty spot where a picture should be and found that a small section of the book was empty. I felt the feeling that seemed to be cropping up more and more since that night and I had a strong urge to do something I haven't done in a long time. I went off back down the corridor to find a special object that has seen years of no attention. I glazed my hand across small symbols carved into each shelf that told me of its category I assigned it; eventually I felt the symbol I was looking for. Far in the back of the room was an empty shelf and in middle sat a very dusty, very underused, very aged and vintage dry plate camera. It remained unused since the night I stole it from a rich duke in trottingham while he was using it. I picked up the fragile thing and blew on it, sputtering an agitated waltz of dust into the air before I made my way back to the album. It occurred to me I had absolutely no idea how to use a camera.
After hours of constant frustration to get the stupid contraption to work I eventually got it into a position I hoped would benefit. I stood in front of the camera I had propped up with an unstable stack of stairs and ignited the plate with my magic before the rickety pile of chairs collapsed in protest from my misuse of its uncomfortable seating arrangements. As soon as the dry plate went up in a puff of smoke the chairs fell to the ground and promptly sent the camera sprawling onto the floor. I quickly found I had broken the thing with my stupidity and assumed that the picture was lost, but upon another check I found that the glass plate was intact and the salts had been imprinted on the paper. I carefully took the paper from its housing and tucked it into four small corners that held the other photos, not knowing the film had to develop. I supposed it didn't matter much as I had no way of seeing my image on the paper. In truth I had no idea what I looked like aside from the shape of my face; I was born blind and no amount of running my hooves across my muzzle would make it any different. I have no idea what my coat, tail or my mane's colors are, I didn't even know if I looked horendously ugly or not; I could suddenly change into a bright shade of pink and I wouldn't have been any wiser to it.
So I sat and stared at the small book still contemplating of the odd feeling that I felt quite strongly of as the sun slowly descended and the moon began to peak out from the horizon. I walked up the stairs, off the scaffolding and unto the balcony where I stood and peered out at pony's slowly stalking off to they're own homes as lights were extinguished one by one from the moons vigil spotlight. I felt the moons light reveal all the houses and all the pony's who's the lights that remained on under her glow. I felt of the wind once more, her cold touch chilled me and began to touch all other winds beside her, creating a network of thousands of hooves I used to feel with.
Then; a crow perched itself on my horn, a small letter in its mouth. Crows are used by only one of my fences and very rarely do I get her messages. This was important. I took the note from my avian friend and trotted the paper back inside,
Wax dripped away from the flame and onto the platter below; a warm glow illuminating only the birds letter upon a sizable mahogany planning table that had been the source of my once current cares. The letter smelt of the words 'quill scabbard road. 4th alley right side. 7 mins.' I rose from my haunches and pulled forward my dark hood fore I lifted the cowl atop my muzzle; the crow cocked his head toward me all while. I spun round left and threw my hoof sideways to the wind causing a dusty gust of air to smolder the flame; the crow fled from his perch atop my horn and back into the night that pierced betwixt the curtains. I set across my rows of objects toward the far right of the rooms dusty interior. Toward I walked a brass and wood wardrobe I knew well from use, my horns glow encompassed the ornate handle's surface and the moons bathing light shone into the compartments interior. Against the back, held outside small rivets rested my crossbow; a quiver hung from my hoof stitched strap on a brass coat holding sconce in the left while on another hook to the right hung a complex brass horn ring, a ruby lodged into the middle of it. I pulled my brass and wood crossbow from its slumber alongside the quiver that I both hung round my back. The ring's polished brass shone in the soft moonlight as my hooves brought it down the base of my horn and twisted it, a loud click accompanied my actions.
My equipment is a vital part of me, just as much my horn is to my skull and I cannot steal without it. I cannot rely always on my magic as it is exhausting to commit each spell and for efficiency to be maintained then I need something capable of launching another with great speed. A crossbow fulfills this need. In the quiver resided 7 compartments, each one holding arrows needed for specific purpose. I have never killed and I never will; I have bit, punched and shot others only when I must but never will I ever kill another for greed. The objects they hold only yield value, but a pony's life is utterly priceless and it is not ever to be taken. Even from me. When my crossbow fails I must rely on my magic to keep me well; while exhausting, this particular horn ring catalyze's my ability for intricate spells with much less effort and focus. The two things I need for a successful stealing.
I closed the brown wardrobe once more before I climbed unto the scaffolding. I slowly walked backward until I felt the ledges end and I slightly nodded down my head. I galloped forward, with one great leap I was out in the nights cold embrace once more as my hoofs fell silent upon the roofs stone and I set off back out into the great city of Canterlot.
Luna walked back from the main balcony and sprawled unto a familiar blue beanbag before curling around into a comfortable ball; clearly worn from the exhaust of working the stars routinely dance through the sky. Tonight she worked a little more on the stars movements, refreshing each star with a slight change to their elegant waltz, and she felt right at home with shuteye on this bag of beans. Unfortunately a sound split her from her wanted sleep and echoed in the walls of her ears, she knew this as the sound of her sisters white door. Striding into the study Celestia exhaled a breathless wind from her tired lungs before taking her own spot on a white beanbag that sat left of the coffee table Luna's own seat sat right of. "How was night court?" Celestia wearily asked. "Lonely as usual, few pony's arrived for questions or requests. i think the most memorable of any was of a rather furious stallion; he came in claiming and ranting about construction workers knocking his house down." Luna groggily told. "Had they? Knocked his house down?" Asked slightly amused. Only slightly. "I haven't the slightest idea. He was escorted out when his tone reached a boiling point, the most i could do was have him stay for a week in an apartment block while another could rebuild his home." Luna closed her eyes as she told the story, coming near to slumber while Celestia mused.
"You look tired Lulu, how much sleep did you get?" Asking in a concerned tone. "None. My mind was lost in other things." "Have you been thinking of that thief again Lu?" Luna said naught. "I don't believe his word true Lulu, he stole from me; he would have said anything to you!" Luna reopened her eyes, frustration lined them. "I trusted him and i do not believe he would betray it. He kept his word when i told him to relinquish those objects you seem so enthralled about! His word was not false Tia." Luna said whilst very agitated with Celestia's words. Celestia looked to her sister with guilt causing Luna to exhale, calm now invigorating her breath. "Ti i do not wish to argue with you once more, just...please take my word instead of his when i say he will return." Celestia looked sadly at her sister and sighed.
"Okay Lu. I trust you."
"...Thank you." Luna said with calmed breath.
Celestia looked to the balcony and gazed at the clouds above. Luna did equal and lost herself once again in deep thought of another...
Mute hooves sung not the song of my presence to the pony's neath them, my heart ceased its unending pump at each gap I leapt between each roof I crossed.
Shuddered was my breathing.
Rising was my pulse.
Circulating was my blood.
Roaring was my wind.
And it was glorious.
I slammed down on a bridge made from planks betwixt a sweet shop and a chariot pulling service; dust sputtering as I leapt from it and unto a similar wooden crossing abaft it that clung to another buildings walls. This was part of my city's network; these wood bridges act for crossroads to the assorted Canterlotian districts each type of fence preferred. The Libertarian District housed the Quill Scabbard Road as it is only four blocks right of The Great Library; my shady friend prefers to meet here for it is the furthest from the castle and its barracks always watchful night guard. The day guards of Canterlot act better as militia and metro workers while they patrol each district. The night guards take more obtrusive roles for those who cause misdeed and a small albeit rare number of rebellious gangs, vandalismic teens, fences, and of course; lowly thief's. I leapt from the top of a book store down unto the concrete floor of the fourth alley on the left side of Quill Scabbard.
I basked silent in the shadows whilst I crossed forward down the street, left unknown by the night to those who would wish harm upon my hidden form as I crept into the narrow alley and neared a purple lined, brown door at the far back rightward of said alley. Boxes and cages sat both sides of me; I passed a broken open birdcage, a crow was perched upon its top whose head snapped left and right, eyeing me hungrily. I dominated its gaze with my pale eyes and approached the dusty door; upon pulling the handle, wind whistled inbetween the now open doors seam's as she whispered sinfully to my eager ears. A hall of downward stairs inhaled my air's touch as I descended down excitedly; I stepped over more cages and rubble that was strewn about the hall giving it a strangely melancholic and almost decorative atmosphere to it. Wind whispered the shape of a familiar room, it was a small square basement with a single window across from the empty door frame I stood behind, it allowed moonlight past its glass to dimly illuminate a table with a quill set flanking a stack of paper in the middle; a single chair sat under the window.
My left cheek twitched lightly as the wind ended her count stating it had now been exactly and finely 7 minutes; and as if statemented to the fact, I felt a surge of magic flow like wind against my horn; its source was a figure that now was seated under the moons glow. She had a ink black coat conflicting a bone white mane and had beautiful bright blue eyes that gazed at me under her lifted eyelids. A crow was perched atop her cold horn.
She pierced her lips; lightly and slowly blowing a perfect three note tune that mimicked a songbird before she very slowly brought the tips of her mouth up high in a white toothy grin.
"Black Market. What do you have this time you old filly?" I slowly asked with my sore throat.
"Something you will steal for me you old colt." Her breath was ice upon my skin that chilled even across the desk. A pale white glow wrapped round a paper upon the top of the stack its breathren rested. It glided across unto my end of the desk before me. "What i desire most this night of nights is not another valuable no no no no no. I need someone not something; you old colt." Her voice elegantly and calmly weaved. I cocked my head with the crow atop her horn, its gaze fixed on me while mine fixed on the mare.
"I need a life stolen tonight you old colt." I pressed my hooves upon the table and fought her bright pupil's with mine pale. "I am not your assassin nor will i ever be to any. I do not take pony's life's only pockets."
Suddenly she reared back fore she slammed her hooves on the desk; fury incarnate in her features.
"YOU WILL KILL. YOU WILL KILL FOR ME AND YOU WILL KILL FOR ONLY ME. YOU. OLD. COLT."
I faltered not.
I looked her dead in her still lidless eyes.
"I am not your thief. I am not your assassin. I. will. not. kill. Not even for you. You. Old. Filly." I responded slowly and hopefully without any visible fear to the mare addressed.
Slowly but surely a toothy grin grew upon her muzzle.
"Juusstt. Wonnnddering. You old colt." She femininely played before she sat back into her chair.
I leaned closer to her.
"Now. What do you reeaally want? Show me your hearts desire. You old filly." I grinned.
With a song similar to cold steel being sheathed, she pulled the quill from and against its holster, darkness dripping like candle wax; she grinned her toothy grin.
Upon Luna's line of gaze was The Libertarian District, with The Great Library the choice of her quizzical eyes interest. A great glass half-dome sprouted from the middle of the rectangular building, allowing moonlight unto its vast halls of scrolls and books few other places held, drifting her minds separate pair of eyes toward her own collection of literature. An old feeling groped her chest whilst she waned her thought to the thief again. It was a rare feeling, one she always had enjoyed but could do naught but fight it when she thought of the thief, his business was not hers, she insecurely reassured to herself. "It is a beautiful night tonight isn't it?" Luna jerked in surprise from her sisters sudden appearance. "Oh! Tia! I did not know you were here! Please forgive me." Luna responded with shock being replaced unto calm again with each word. "Forgive you for what Lu? If anything you should forgive me for not coming out sooner, it is a truly beautiful night you have crafted this evening." She eulogized at her sister. "Oh come now, you did not just come to praise my work of all things." Luna quirked, gazing back to another area of interest in the night sky. "And what would be wrong with that? I know you work so hard out here and I just...wanted to talk for a little." She admitted. Luna turned her gaze unto her sister, who did likewise in a return of interest.
"We always talk Ti." "I know we do but...not...talk talk." She said sadly "What would there be to talk of?" "You keep thinking of that thief Lu, it worry's me." Launching back into the already spoken concern. Luna groaned "Ti why do you bring this up so much?" She asked, tired of arguing once more. "Because i care for you Lu and i have been your sister long enough to know when something is bothering you so much. Please, i just want this to be settled." She asked with her troubles binding with her soft words.
Luna released a jailed sigh past her glottis whilst Celestia looked in her blue eyes for solace. Luna gave her it with her wandering thoughts formed in words.
"A return theft? For something i've already stolen before; you old filly?" Asking for clearance to her chilled breath, while making absolute certain he repeated that phrase at each and every end of his sentences. "This thief has betrayed me, and if you wont take her life then you will take her boon. You may take it. You may Leave it. Your choice. It all matters not. Well...except for your well being; you old colt." She purred, both hooves on her chin as she peered at me, eyes still unblinking. "This is an odd request, even from you, you old filly." Again willing myself not to forget the phrase. My life was dependent on those three words. They must be repeated each and every time unless appropriate, it meant we understood each other and acted as basic manners this mare expected to be held when doing business. This mare was seemingly a mix of deceit and fear incarcerated into her form, but even she expects a standard from others when contracting. "Are you finally giving your forfeit to challenge you old colt?"
She also knew of where and when to strike my nerves.
"The day i give up your challenges is the day that i die and you know it you old filly." I responded
"I look forward to it. But mostly the robbery...you old colt." Still rocking slightly in her seat playfully.
"How much you old filly?" She ceased her rocking. "Seventy thousand bits.
...You old colt." She said, her rocking returning as she swayed her hind legs under the desk to and fro.
I looked at her for small time as she simply cocked her head at me along side her crow, it moved with the birds in perfect alignment.
"...Done. You old filly." The song of steel sang from the inkwell again as her pale light enveloped the dripping quill and was set down below a line at the bottom of page atop a small stack of lengthy and heavily worded documents retaining of my contract that would assure i did my misdeed. I kept my word and quill in magic as I signed my false name upon the black line before i reset the quill back inside it's inkwell. Her grin became toothy once more.
Her pale light surrounded the stack as she slid it under her chair, all whilst she gazed that lidless gaze upon me unceasingly.
"I know with certainty you will return back to me you old colt."
"I always do you old filly." I turned as I stated to her and began to walk to the door. I felt a chill wind inside my horn once more. When I turned back, the desk was now empty as I heard her songbird whistle echo in the room before it waltzed out into the cold night air and out the doorway where it echoed into the night.
Contract taken, gear prepped and my heart waiting in anticipation; I begun to walk back out with the nights wind.
Lightning exploded out into a tree some far away Canterlot whilst the act was imprinted in a bright purple jagged ribbon across the sky in the downpour, yet it was half a minute later until I felt his brother thunder greet me from atop my perch on the flat metal tip of The Great Library's segregated glass dome. Wind blew leeward up cross the many step of the library, each gust visible like a living aurora; she went past the eight towering marble coulombs and blew against the sides of a great open double door creating beautifully an outline of windy moving spikes all reaching for warmth inside. The rain soaked me not as each drop that struck my garb slid off and unto the glass dome below without dampening the cloth, suspending my apparel in a constant effect of dryness whilst I looked over Canterlot.
My gaze faced out to The Library's front as I saw across the city's winding streets lined with homes and shops, all of which in each of their respectable districts, until they reached back to Canterlot Castle being bathed in a heavy rainfall.
Under my hood; my alabaster eyes had locked to spot a ways away betwixt the castle and the dome.
In the middle of Canterlot the streets circled round a very large opening that cut inside the slightly urban environment of The Communitarian district; a huge manor was erected in the middle of the opening that faced its large open doors toward my perch while wide steps led up to the raised colossal doors.
The stairs split downwards into two separate railed staircases that led toward a yard out front of the manor; small steps led up the sides of a sizable stone circle in the yard that held a tall rectangular wall-like spire of perfectly smooth black obsidian in the circles center. Thousands of thousands of names climbed up the reflective black wall in elegant cursive while hundreds of hundreds of dripping candles and sputterings of wax were scattered about and around the glowing yard, beside the doors, on the railing of the stairs, beside the wall and atop it; giving the entire yard a peaceful warmth in the night's cold loving's.
This almost religious manor is called by those who actually attend the place rather than steal from it (the poor fools) 'The Memorial Of Canterlot', and with good reason as this is the place all of the ponys who died in the city now eternally reside along with most of their usually valuable possessions. Deep under resides a vast maze of crypts, all of the lost soul's bodies are beheld and watched by a single large and wealthy family of extremely protective monks that are actually far more snooty and far, far more crazy than what they look on the tin. The manor above however is a place where ponys who were connected to significant events concerning Canterlot's history have the 'grand honor' of their possessions and work displayed like a museum to the public.
Only few day before had I last stole from The Memorial and now the whole area is certain to be filled with paranoid fanatics who's entire social circle consist of loonies, the dead and pompous siblings all just eager to have a chance to plunge steel into me.
First round I stole from this place I had to take a big chunk of time just keeping out of sight; as the monks went into a huge manhunt only a couple seconds after they found a pot missing, so they did what any apparently peaceful band of monks would do, they charmingly threw everypony out calling them all "vile and heinous bird filth of criminal lovers" before they almost tore the place apart looking for a single pot I stole. It wasn't even a good looking pot.
Even if the family is absurdly bonkers I wouldn't have expected them to hire one of Black Market's own thief's to steal back a painting from one of her caravans. That takes bravery.
In my hour time with Marky (as I call her for my amusement) she told me how they had paid large amounts of bits to hire one of her own thief's to steal back the painting and how it was now my job to intercept the thief, send the family a message, and make sure the valuable was Markys once more.
The painting that was the center of all this espionage is called 'The Transparent Chain' by its author, it uses crystals fused to the paper to depict a pair of crystal stallions befriending another despite being under the rule of King Sombra.
The picture was very delicate, very risky, and very, very valuable. I get to steal it twice in the exact same week.
I sat inside shadow contained but not confined to an alley on the right side of a wide street, one of the same street that encircles round the manor. Dozens of ponys rich and poor slowly trotted down the road. Some held candles on platters while some held gifts and toys but all of them made their way down the road and toward The Memorial. Some wore expensive suits and ties and some wore rags or nothing at all, some were young and some were old, some had smiles and some had frowns, it didn't really matter to me; only the few that held valuables did.
A crowd of chatty mares surrounding a beefy stallion in a tie trotted by past the alley; not noticing the new addition of a thief to their large huddled group. I slowly walked with the group until I slowly came into the large stone yard that led toward the spire. There were ponys all across the yard, a mass of them were going up the stairs and into the manor, many stood and chatted in the huge cobblestone yard while dozens crowded around and placed gift and candle near the lightly raised circle beneath the spire. As the group started up the stairs along with the others all crowding around me I looked up to the spire and saw that it was positively towering as pegasi hovered and flew around it carrying candles in hoof and small fouls on backs.
We walked into the tall doors as we left the night's wet and cold outside for a bright and warm enormous foyer with hundreds of ponys all walking around inside. The foyer was absolutely massive with dozens of branching hallways on the side, another equally huge door on the wall far opposite the other, a chandler high above hung from the lofty ceiling and a large broad railed balcony above the tower-like raised door my group was walking toward. As we neared the door I could feel a deep and wide stone staircase leading down past the door and into the crypt; candles in sconces lined the stone hall all the way to the bottom. Then my group stopped moving in a fit of shushing and giggling; I began to hear similar across the whole foyer of ponys all looking up to the balcony high above.
An elderly cream colored stallion walked up to the railing as he slowly peered down at everypony with brown withered eyes.
He wore a regal velvet robe across his back with a gold trim and a white camauro covering his head. There were two pompous looking unicorns in tuxedos to his side.
The old stallion began to shakily open his mouth as his lips lightly quivered.
"My interruption shaint be lengthy as i know you all wanting to return to your loved departed." His loud voice slowly echoed in the silent grand hall. The only other sound was the pattering of rain.
"On behalf of The Memorial Of Canterlot and all it's associated we wish to apologize for my...brash words from before."
I started to eye a stallion in front of me that had a golden chained watch in his back pocket.
"I admit i was not myself and i wish all of your humble apology for my inexcusable outburst. Although i see now how my actions were wrong i believe i may right my wrong to you with good news."
Everyone began to whisper to them self's and exchange glances.
"On behalf of The Memorial Of Canterlot we are pleased to unveil our recapture of The Transparent Chain after it was so wickedly stolen from us early this week!"
Let's see we got seven monocles, two pairs of dress shoes, eleven pocket watch's...
"In mere hours the crystal exhibit will reopened for the public once more!" He shouted.
Pony's began to stamp their hooves and cheer while not noticing I just nicked about thirty things already.
I found this a good time to sneak between the crowds and head toward the far right of the hall. Of course I continued to pilfer pockets the whole way there.
"In celebration of this wonderful occasion we will be serving food imported from the crystal empire itself to your deserving stomachs!"
Great stars how many piercings can a single pony have on her? Seriously that could not have been comfortable, she should thank me for taking them.
I started to get near a hallway on the right, my own pockets now a bit heavier with small shiny objects.
"Please treat our waiters well and we will treat you well in kind. Enjoy your time in our hall of the departed with your loved ones."
His voice slowly began to fade down the hall as I rounded right past a corner; my mind was intent on finding that crystal exhibit.
"That will be all." His voice echoed down the halls as I walked up a staircase at the end of the hall.
Wind blew forth the regal hall touching every painting and window adorning the wooden walls as rain smashed pattered against the rightward glass windows as if she begs for shelter from herself. Moonlight freed herself from the glass revealing a door left of me. A nail jutted from the middle to hold string lacing inside a hanging sign; it rocked and knocked against the door softly in the wind.
The letters had light raise on them for decoration purposes as i'm partial to believing the craftspony had no intention of allowing a blind thief to read from it.
'Exhibit sealed on account of rats.'
What garbage.
I closed my eye's with an inhale slow and calm. Bringing my muzzle hidden neath dark cloth to the doorknob fore I blew my held breath inside the lock. Dust and moisture danced around the plug grazing on what i felt as key pins and grooves.
This was a simple pin tumbler from what the wind told me and I was surprised they didn't exchange for disc tumblers since my last visit. I think I might be insulted.
Perhaps they think me dumb.
My horn glowed dimly blue signaling my entire focus on the lock while I used my highly overrated magic to pick it. I had done this spell many times enough to use it efficiently and with as little exhaustion as possible; in order for a thief to be successful he must as quick and efficent as he is silent.
Soon enough the lock gave up its attempt to rival me as I pushed upon the door letting an breeze blow inside the dark room informatively.
It was a single small room that appeared to be a bedroom however the presence of podiums indicated this was actually an exhibit although it was not the one I was looking for. Still I would go home happier with more in my pockets.
I pushed the door closed with my hind leg's and began to rummage as silently I could.
Minute's grew as fast as the loot while brushes, music boxs, dresses and gems fell into my bag's bottoms.
The moonlight under the door began to darken. There was somepony outside the door.
I immediately spun around and slid under the bed ere I laid on the cold floor completely silent. I took a deep smell of the air from under the bed as the pony outside formed inside my minds eye.
He was a fairly young stallion in what I could only guess a tuxedo. He had just stopped outside and was looking all around him with his mouth slightly open in a state of bewilderment and slight annoyance. Pacing down the hall very slowly he began to sniff deeply then turn toward the door. He slowly walked up to the door and looked at it quizzically before lightly pushing on it.
Upon noticing the door was open he proceeded to lose his mind
He clinched his teeth and glared into the room with a violent passion to hit whoever he thought did this.
"WHOO. TOUCCCHEDD. THIISSS. DOOOAR!?" He screamed with all of his might.
I hope you can understand my not wanting to respond to this silly stallion.
Seething with rage he wrapped his hoof around the knob and slammed it closed, rocking the very ground with the force of his abuse on the door he was just ranting about being touched.
I heard him storm off down the hall screaming and declaring he would have this door touching idiots head. I would have been flattered but I was a tad more concerned in getting out of the room before a mob tore the manor apart.
I pushed out the door and broke into a quickened but silent trot down the hall.
After scrambling around the manor looking for any sort of sign as to where the crystal exhibit might be I came upon a large door at the halls end. I slowly crept all the way down the hall fore I inhaled once more and blew inside the lock.
"THERE IS THAT DEFILER OF DOORS!"
Oh good.
There was, in fact, a very large and very furious mob of caretakers all the way at the end of hall running toward me wielding cold steel and the intent to kill. I started to form the key faster and with more focus as I was fueled by my desire for a head still on my neck by nights end. The key pushed up the pins as the plug rotated with a 'click' and the mob roared with a guttural snarl.
I pushed past the door as fast I could and braced my back against it. Despite the snarling mob about to ram down the door I was able to get a good view of the exhibit before me. I smelt of the air and she told me of all the statues and all the paintings and all the little things in display cases all around the rectangular room. An empty space led up to an enormous mural on the back wall while to the right was an equally large window covering the walls entirety. There was something else as well, something smelled off, something...somepony.
There was a mare just a few feet in front of the mural wearing an odd assortment of clothing.
She wore a lengthy trenchcoat and a steel helmet that covered her entire head with a large duffel bag round her back. It was the other thief. It looked I had caught her about to display the painting as the bag was open and a large cylinder rested in one of her forearms that she gazed upon. That is, until she looked up at me. Upon sight she immediately stuffed the cylinder into her back and pointed her hoof to me as if accusing me of some act.
I didn't have time to question her as an imposingly thick arrow shot out from her coat toward me.
My horn flamed blue as I forced the arrow past me and toward the door's lock; it stabbed straight down the plug and jammed it, ironically sealing us in together.
I traded the crazed loons for a murderous mare.
Truly I feel blessed.
I took this new privacy to launch myself toward a small wooden podium that jutted from the floor. The odd mare galloped toward the podium with all her force meaning her intent to smash it. I threw my right side into a roll away from the podium as I slid across the floor on my hooves mid roll. She launched her entire right side toward the podium; when her ribs connected with the wood her bones proved stronger as the podium explosively became mush.
Wood, glass, dust, and a very angry mare with bad fashion sense sprayed across the floor leaving only some jagged planks of wood still standing connected to the now thoroughly dirty linoleum floor. I charged toward the mare as she raised both her hoofs toward me. Arrows blasted out of her coat toward me, then another set, then another and another in a barrage of arrows. I shifted all my weight to my back into a sliding backward fall under the first six exploding into the ground before I broke my slide into a sideways roll onto my hooves narrowly being missed by the other two. My magic ripped my crossbow from a hook interconnecting one on my back. I jammed the side of the crossbow against her throat as I tackled her back to the ground whilst she tried seething under her helm to point her hooves toward my face. I wrestled her hoofs away from my very fragile head as another barrage shot out from all four of her hooves into the chandelier above causing wood, glass, burning wax, and ember all unto my back and across the floor. Before I could rip her helm off I heard the song of steel being sung from under her sleeves.
With a 'shing' steel blades shot out her very annoying trenchcoat sleeves while she writhed on the floor trying her best to force me off and gut me. I focused my magic to her clothing, and with some intense concentration, I ignited her sleeves into a brief puffing blue fire revealing a complex auto notching mechanism tied to small crossbows strapped to her forearms. The blades were locked in a sliding mechanic controlled by some unseen appendage by a string.
Wings.
As if she heard my thoughts; pink wings ruptured her trenchcoat. Her wings pushed against the floor, giving her enough to throw me off her and flap into the air above me. My crossbow flew into the air with a blue hue around it fore I curved it back toward me.
Frustrated with not being able to stab me; she screamed at me and put her hooves to the sides of her helmet fore she flung it to the floor. It smelled heavily of sweat as moisture and dust flew out of the clattering helmet now spinning on the sullied floor.
She had the most vibrant shade of orange, red, and yellow in her long, limp and glistening mane. Her trenchcoat was tattered into mere cloth clinging to what was chainmail of all things that protected most of her torso and hind legs, leaving only her forelegs and head bare to my eyes. She had bright auburn eyes of utter fury.
This odd mare was a thief as i and any self respecting thief does not show a face, this had to be a signal.
If a thief shows his face to another then either they are an accomplice or about to be very dead.
I don't think she would hear my plea to buddy.
The mare pointed both her hoofs at me as i saw an arrow notch itself into her bow.
An arrow plucked from my holster and pulled back the string on my crossbow as I pointed toward her center.
