New Moon vs. Blue Moon
I gasped for air as I closed the large wooden door behind me as fast as possible, shrouding me in darkness. My rump fell to the cold tiles unceremoniously as I pressed an ear to the door, waiting for the telltale sound of guard's hoofsteps to come and pass.
When the armor-clad stallion was far enough, I allowed my horn to come to life. What had once been a normal, ice blue magical aura had become purple and green with extensive use of dark magic- just one reason why the public was so unreasonably afraid of the infamous magical field. Its colors were familiar and comforting to me, though. With the growing glow, I found myself in a typical janitor's closet- safe for now.
I took the momentary safety to check my inventory. My gray body suit, more ideal than stark black for blending into shadows, fit as snugly as ever, with no tears. My similarly gray saddlebags had come unclasped, but nothing had fallen out. I considered finding something in the closet to keep them more secure, but once I got to my destination, that would only serve as a hindrance to my task.
I took a few more deep breaths, then stood back up. Though Lord Blue Moon's mansion only had a few guards, they were as well trained as any of the princesses' Royal Guard. The next one would be coming through here in a few moments, if my insider was correct. Now was the time.
I pushed the heavy oak door open as closed as quickly as I dared, then, hugging the walls, started to proceed to Blue Moon's room at the end of the hallway a hundred feet ahead to my left. The hallway ahead to my right would be where the guard emerged from, crossing paths with me if I didn't make it to Moon's room in time.
So I ran.
It was a hundred meter dash, but as the glow of the guard's flashlight emerged from around the corner, I ducked into the left hallway and under a table holding countless priceless pieces of art. If I were any other thief, they would probably be a prime target. But although that business was lucrative, it was also very, very dangerous- filled with government spies. More importantly, their gold and jewels were easily replaced with their "connections"- whereas what I stole was irreplaceable.
No, instead of giving money to the poor, I preferred to give them something better and something that wouldn't get me arrested, as long as I was careful. My associates often joked that if I would enter the black market with my products, I would be the richest pony alive. But giving my prizes to down on their luck folks rather than selling was the best "screw you" to the face of the nobles.
And now it was time to claim that treasured product that most ponies would pay me their life's savings for.
The guard in front of Blue Moon's room was a monster of a stallion, and one of Princess Luna's treasured negasi to boot. The batlike pony's tufted ears were already twitching, probably beginning to sense my presence.
This part, however, was easy. Instead of dodging guards, I was on the attack. I hated hurting ponies, but this guard could not be avoided. Digging through my saddlebags silently, I pulled out a small crossbow that could be used without activating my rather gurgly-sounding dark magic. I dipped the tip of an dart in the the little jar I carried with me, placed my hoof in the bow, pulled the string with my teeth, and let it fly.
My aim was true, and though the negasus saw the dart coming, he didn't have time to react as it lodged itself in a vein in his neck. He opened his mouth, probably to call for backup, but the potion True Brew had cooked up was fast-acting, and he stumbled forward before collapsing. Even for a stallion of his size, it would be a few hours before he woke.
I slipped my equipment in my bag. It was good that I had asked Brew to make it stronger; my fears that Moon would have a stronger guard after my last hit on Lady Heartstone were not unfounded. Naturally, I could have used my magic to fight, but just as I avoided the other guards to avoid hurting them, I preferred safer means to take down a foe.
Plus, after a fight, a guard could report my appearance to the authorities. That would mean the end of my escapades.
Blue Moon's door was locked, naturally. A simple unlocking spell was all that was required, though. Aside from my signature spell, I knew only a few spells- light, telekinesis, fire, unlocking, and a weapon-conjuring spell. Just enough to do my job. The tumblers were complicated, but with the spell's vision I manipulated them just so, until the door creaked and opened a just ad.
I slipped in the room and paused to take it in. According to my insider, Charade, nopony at all was allowed in the room. She had been completely unwilling to try to sneak in. It irked me, but so far, what she had been doing was legal- just taking on different jobs and quitting them soon after. As long as none of our crew sold her out, nobody would know she had done all that to gain information.
That left me taking a few moments to take it in. There was a lot, to be sure. Blue Moon, the oft overlooked cousin of Prince Blueblood, spared no expense in the gaudiness of his private quarters. Even the rug underneath my hooves was luscious, as I stood in a couple inches of pure fluff.
Suddenly I was glad I was taking it all in. This lifestyle of luxury made my blood boil. My latest target was my riskiest one yet, but probably the one who deserved my punishment most of all.
Rage driving me, I stomped towards Blue Moon, the soft carpet muffling my steps. The high-faulting lord certainly was getting what was coming to him. I levitated two syringes out of my saddlebags. With a little more violence than was necessary, I jabbed it into his neck. Nothing happened. I took the next syringe and followed it up with another jab. Still nothing happened. One to keep him asleep, and another with a pain-numbing brew potent enough to work until he could get to a hospital.
The next part was the toughest, purely in terms of physical effort required. I was sleek and fit for sneaking, not power jobs. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my final tool- a big serrated knife.
I took the cool metal and pressed it against Moon, whose pristine azure coat glowed in Luna's moonlight. One more deep breath and I started to saw.
Though the process was difficult, I finished in good time with no issues. The cut was clean, which was great- no cleanup required.
After I admired my prize, glowing in my purple and green telekinesis, I bit down on the end, letting it hang out of my mouth like a cigar. The last step would require me to use my secret weapons, and since they weren't naturally mine, the effort required made channeling magic to hold my prize aloft quite difficult. I set the knife down, then levitated my bags into the air and igniting them with a flickering black fire. Holding them in midair where the fire couldn't catch, they slowly burned, unbeknownst to the unconscious prince, trickling down until they were a pile of ash on the floor. They were too heavy for the next part. I cut my body suit at the sides and finally let my wings breathe freely. Like the collar made of pearls upon Moon's dresser, they shone a pristine white, unlike my dull brown coat or pitch black mane.
I burned the knife in black fire too, but left the body suit on, handy for limiting identification by eyewitnesses in case things got hairy, though the job was almost over. I knew no teleportation, and though I could sneak back through the mansion, for this particular job I had a much easier option.
Stepping up to the window, what I had seen on a little scouting mission of my own became clear- this single window was unable to open. It had no locks, which meant I had to sneak in through the door for this mission, like any mission where my destination had no windows. Crashing in would have gotten me arrested immediately. However, now that all I had to do was get out, instead of stop and steal something from a noble's body...
I stepped back a few paces, then launched myself at the window. Glass shattered around me as I flew into the pitch black night. When I was a hundred feet away, I heard faint yelling. A guard besides the one I had knocked out must have heard me, but it was too late. I ducked down into an alleyway and out of sight.
As I made my shaky landing, I grinned to myself. Nothing beat the thrill of a quick getaway, even on wobbly wings. I lifted my prize out of my mouth with telekinesis to admire it in the safety of darkness.
"No matter how much you practice, you never get the hang of those wings, do you? You didn't sneak into this alley, you crash landed into it."
I stopped my personal musings and looked up to see a pony emerge from the shadows. "Already turned in your resignation, huh, Charade?"
Charade pulled off the blonde braided wig she wore, tossing it to me, which I started to burn with dark fire as she spoke. "Yeah, but I kept the maid outfit. I'm never one to use a disguise twice, but for personal use..." She wiggled her rump at me with a seductive little smile. I just rolled my eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure you and Brew'll have a field day with it. Thanks for the intel, by the way."
Charade scoffed. "Please. The idea of you, the oh so infallible New Moon, trying to get around without my help? While entertaining, it also makes me stay. I'd hate to see Equestria's Robin Hood arrested." While she talked, Charade pulled her silky brown mane out of the net she wore with wigs and shook it out, gentle curls falling to her barrel. "Not to mention that when you stop kicking, I wanna be around to get my body suits back, thank you very much. Even though most of them have holes in the sides."
I shrugged. "Your stretchy suits are one size fits all, so I take them. Just because you're not a pegasus doesn't mean I shouldn't take advantage of what keeps me from that arrest you mentioned earlier."
Charade's muzzle drew into a smirk. "Oh yeah? Because you're trying so hard not to get arrested, crashing through windows and whatnot."
My wings twitched. "Hey! I might've gotten caught if I tried to sneak back through the halls! Crashing through the window was the logical choice!"
"And the more dramatic one. Because, as we all know, not only do you have to steal from the rich, give to the poor, and do it in a symbolic way, but do it in a dramatic way too. Otherwise you're not a true hero, right?"
"I'm not trying to be a hero. Don't mock me. You're the one who decided to join me."
"Because you'd have gotten yourself killed running in blind like you used to."
"Pssh." I turned tail and started heading deep into the alley, having no real retort for a statement of such truth. Charade laughed, and I heard her light hoofsteps as she trotted to catch up.
Our bantering ended as I let Charade take the lead, levitating my prize by my side. Her sense of direction was on point, lending me both maps of target places like Blue Moon's home and guides to hideouts or recipients of my gifts. It was especially helpful to a pony with my internal compass. I still sometimes forget which direction the sun rises in.
After some amount of walking- because my sense of time was almost as bad as my sense of direction- we made it back to our base of operations. True Brew ran a coffee shop, but his true brewing potential lay in potion-making- and lending me his back room as an ideal hideout. With Charade on intel, True Brew on potent potions, and me on expeditions, there was only one pony left, one who lived in the heart of the actions, finding my targets and recipients...
"Good Celestia, chap," Fancy Pants said as we entered the back door. "You really pulled it off, didn't you?"
I beamed proudly, holding my prize aloft for our four-pony team to see. "Yep. This is it."
"Holy cow..." Brew said in amazement. "It's...it's Blue Moon's horn."
We all stood for a moment as the blue cone shone dully in the single lantern's light. The highly-protected lord had been our most dangerous target, but seeing the noblepony's pride and joy in my magical grasp made it all worth it.
After a few moments, I handed it off to Brew. He set it down, and while beginning the dyeing and preservation process, he handed a cup of joe to me and one to Charade. I sunk into a ratted old armchair and took a long sip.
"True Brew, coffee maker and potion maker. It's unfair. You shouldn't get two special talents," I said jokingly, my sarcastic wit made a bit less sharp as I sunk into the chair. Despite my joking, it was absolutely scrumptious.
Brew blushed. "It's nothing compared to what you can do, Moon."
Fancy Pants smirked and leaned forward. "Or as the noble ponies are calling you...the Black Death."
"Oh man," Charade answered, smiling slyly. "Is that really what they're calling him? Are we striking fear into the hearts of the heartless, or what?"
"Quite!" Fancy Pants said with a smirk of his own. Having climbed his way into the ranks of the noble ponies, though his accent was fake, his personality was all real. Good thing he had found me before I had decided to..."remove" his horn. With his guidance, I found the nobles who really deserved a good hit to the back of the head.
"So," I said, leaning forward to change the subject. "Who's our target of philanthropy this time around?"
"Mm." Fancy levitated a sheet of paper in front of his muzzle and adjusted his monocle. "I have a couple. One is an earth pony single mother who's having trouble raising her two foals. She's as tall as Fleur, so she could wear the long horn well."
I nodded, taking another sip and picturing her in my mind. "And another?"
Fancy Pants grinned. "Yes, and my personal preference. An old stallion who lost his horn and two back legs in the Griffonian War. He came to the court asking for more money for wounded veterans, but the others vetoed Celestia, saying the war was too long ago, and any veterans should have recovered their financial standing by now." His grin became a bit more devious, one that I personally loved to see. "The main objector? Lord Blue Moon himself. It would definitely establish one of those 'statements' you're always out to make."
I felt my face light up, and the ponies around me mirrored my expression. "Done. Absolutely. And if any nobles, especially Moon, sees that stallion again, they'll know what happened..."
"But a simple lie detector spell from one of the princesses will prove he had nothing to do with the switch. Celestia, it's brilliant, but are you sure we can take a gamble on making the switch to even a somewhat well known pony?" Charade asked.
I nodded. "The whole point of our work is to make a statement to the nobles and do good for the down-on-their-luck ponies. It's time to make more of a statement, make a difference for more than just a few ponies." I took a long draw from my mug. "I'll go out and make the switch in the morning."
I closed my eyes, but after a few moments of silence, I opened them again. Both Charade and Fancy Pants were giving me strange looks. I sat up straighter. "What?"
They exchanged a glance, then Charade set her coffee down on a three-legged table. "It's nothing, really. Just... About the morning..." She looked down.
"What I think Charade is attempting to say," Fancy Pants said, "is that you've been working terribly hard. You've been up for, say....30 hours now? Certainly you can sleep in until the afternoon tomorrow?"
I felt my content smile tug into a frown. "And what, let that poor stallion suffer any longer than necessary? Guys, we've taken this challenge on to make a real difference. I can't let a little sleep get in the way."
"But you're running yourself ragged!" Charade exclaimed, seemingly finding her voice. "You've slept maybe four hours per night this week. You spend hours poring over plans, finding new targets, reviewing possible recipients, and training, training, training... You spend less time at your real job, so you have less money. You're living on practically nothing, so I don't know how you sur-"
"Shut it, Charade." I rubbed my forehead, feeling a migraine start to form. This was the last thing I needed. "I can't just slow down right now. This is my real job. Ponies out there need me. Compared to those who are suffering under the nobleponies' oppression, I don't see how you can just let me take my sweet time! We're getting into the thick, gritty stuff. We just took Blue Moon's horn! We can't slow down! We gotta speed up!"
"I have to agree with Charade," Fancy Pants said, calmer than me or Charade. "You are physically slowing down. You are messing up. You know this. You'd rather crash through a window to make a quick escape rather than try to sneak past guards again. We must go back to where we started, making a steal perhaps once a month, taking our time-"
"That's easy for you to say! While you're living in riches, other ponies are struggling to make one more day. I'm the one slowing down because I'm doing all the heavy lifting. Charade just gets new jobs! She won't even do something slightly illegal! And you- you just go to parties, analyzing snobs to see who we should target! That's not remotely hard, you- you- noblepony!"
Before I knew it, Fancy and I were standing muzzle to muzzle. "You dastard! You truly believe I, who worked up from the slums, don't understand the suffering of a common pony?! I am a common pony in royal clothes! And furthermore, I donate my hard earned riches! I do all I can for my fellow pony! By contrast, your attitude is only going to make it harder for you to help others, given you will fumble, and likely ruin it all! Would that really make your father proud?!"
I huffed, rage flowing hot through my veins. "Don't you dare bring my father into this! Yeah, I have a vendetta against the upper class cause of what they did to him. But this is more than that! This is bigger now! This isn't just vengeance anymore; it's changing the entire status quo!" I grabbed the horn sitting on the desk. "You think speeding up will ruin anything? You think I can't handle a little extra push? Well then, 'old chum', I'll prove you wrong! I'll go put this horn on that stallion right now!"
"Are you insane?!" Charade exclaimed. "You don't know anything about him! I need the chance to get some information! And the horn's not close to ready!"
"Whatever, Charade. I don't need the help of those who don't put trust in me. Fancy, give me the address. I'll find it myself."
"Certainly not!" Fancy Pants levitated the page out of grasp. I made a swipe for it, but that only caused the stallion to hold the page next to Brew's stove, flames burning red hot. I clenched my jaw.
"You wouldn't."
"Guys," Charade said.
"Oh, but old chap, I would. You are completely irrational."
"Guys."
"Me? No, it's you. I know my limits. Let me do what I want to do. I'm the leader here."
"Guys."
"There is no leader here! We are a team! You need us as much as we need you!"
"Guys...!"
"Really? Then how did I pull off the first heists by myself?"
"Guys!"
"I really do not know how. You can't tell your hoof from your plot-"
"GUYS!"
We whipped our heads around the face Charade, who was by now red in the face. "Guys! Brew's gone!"
I looked around quickly, then cursed under my breath. No wonder the horn had just been sitting on the desk. That stallion really did not take well to conflict. While the yin to Charade's yang, he had none of the fire the rest of us did. And when it came to arguments...
"Thanks, nitwits. Now I've gotta go find him. He's lucky I love him." She grumbled under her breath- likely still trying to stick to her plan of not cussing out loud, at Brew's request- then pointed at each of us in turn. "You. Go get some sleep. If you come back here before noon, we're sending you back. You. Do the same, but be here at a normal time, so psycho here can get on the case as soon as he's well rested."
I opened my mouth to protest, but finally just murmured assent. They probably just needed to sleep on the matter... see how we were in the home stretch. As Charade left, I finally started pulling off my body suit, exchanging it for a light gray jacket that would keep me warm in the fall chill and cover my wings. Fancy Pants sat back down, and no words were exchanged. I hoped to keep it that way, but he stopped me when I went to leave.
"Moon," he said, causing me to sigh internally and turn around. For some reason, he looked...sad. "My friend, I'm sorry for this argument. Can we talk?"
I wasn't sorry for it and I didn't want to talk. "Can we not do this now?"
Fancy sighed, then nodded. "Fine. But, I want to make you the offer I made you when we first agreed to work together."
I blinked rapidly, trying to think back. It had been a couple years ago. After a few seconds of thinking I shook my head. "Can't remember. What is it?"
Fancy smiled sadly. "You are clearly more devoted to this work than your real job. Please, quit your job as a surgeon and let me pay you for this work. I have plenty of money."
I raised an eyebrow. "I don't need charity. Give that money to ponies who need it more than me. I can take care of myself." This was not entirely a statement of pride. I knew others were in worse straits than me.
Fancy's chuckle was hollow. "That's what you said the first time, too."
I paused for a few moments to take that in, then turned and walked out the door. "See ya, Fancy."
Though I didn't know my way from a foreign place like Blue Moon's to the hideout, I knew my way from the hideout to my apartment. It was a bit more run-down than the area of Canterlot the café was in, being on the border between the slums and the mansions. Blue Moon's mansion must have been farther than I thought, because there were no guards anywhere on the streets looking for me. They should have known I would be able to get this far using alleyway shortcuts, but getting reinforcements there to begin with had probably taken all this time. Thus, I slid my key into the lock without meeting a single pony.
The studio apartment I rented, like the rest of my lifestyle in general, was a far cry from what most surgeons who could magically reattach limbs could do. Then again, most of those surgeons didn't work two days a week. Then again, I was the only pony who could use magic to reattach horns or wings. Then AGAIN, if I revealed I could do that, I wouldn't be able to get away on the excuse that I couldn't concentrate if anypony was in the room. Somepony would eventually see me at work, and once they knew I used dark magic, I'd find myself on a permanent vacation to the dungeon.
After raiding the fridge and managing to come up with a bare-bones hay sandwich, I trudged onto the bed and flopped onto it unceremoniously. After a few moments of an uncomfortable feeling, I flipped over onto my stomach and started to preen my wings. They were a tad bit larger than that of an average pegasus, and their glistening whiteness were a sharp contrast to my ugly mud-colored coat. The preening process took a long time, as I ensured every feather was perfectly straight and free of grime.
Perhaps if I had normal wings, I wouldn't put so much effort into cleaning them just so. But as it stood, they were a special gift- even if their donor was long buried, forever unaware of his precious present to me.
My father, just like the stallion I'd be gifting a horn tomorrow, was a war-torn stallion who had been just one of those oppressed by the nobles. Anti-war violent protestors had attacked him at home soon after he returned from the Griffonian War. When he got to the hospital, though, Prince White Collar, Blueblood's father, had insisted that all surgeons attend to his son with a broken leg, outwardly proclaiming that he would shut down the hospital if they didn't comply. He was their primary donator, and the hospital had no choice to oblige to the ridiculous request.
In transfer to another hospital, my father died.
To my dismay, thinking about the incident no longer brought tears to my eyes. I was too tired for anger or sadness anymore. Too tired for all this lying in bed at night, thinking about avenging him like some storybook vigilante. I had targeted nobles that were selfish, but not nearly as much as White Collar.
Collar was gone, but he had raised his son to be just like him.
One day, I would brave Blueblood's mansion.