A note, a dropped case, and the determination of a mare. Will the dead finally have the justice she deserved and her daughter the long-needed closure?
Losing your mother when your young is tragic. But when you find out that her death wasn't natural and how she died is kept away from you, you'll feel betrayed and angry at the world. This was the case of Citrine, one of the daughters of a normal-living mare. As she looks for answers, she discovers many things unknown to her when she was still a filly.
But with the knowledge of this past events, there is also danger that follows...
A collaboration with a friend of mine(Which, unfortunately, I'm not sure if he's active here).
“Mommy, mommy!” a little filly pointed at a brown teddy bear sitting inside a toy store whilst yanking her mother’s mane. “I want one of those! They’re so cute! Can you buy me one, please?”
The mother smiled. “Sure, honey, but right after me and your pop go shopping first! Tell me again, what day is it today?”
“It’s Mother’s Day!” she jumped.
“That’s right!” She tousled her daughter’s mane. “Come on, the mall entrance is just several meters away!”
Still, the little one could not divert her eyes away from that teddy bear. It was irresistible.
Too bad looking away from where you’re walking has its consequences, because the filly slammed into another mare.
“Oof!”
The two came crashing down together.
“Oh, my!” the mare cried, helping the poor filly up. “Are you okay?!”
She rubbed her head. “Yeah, I’m fine...”
The mother called out to her from a distance. “Hey, what’s the hold up? Come on, the entrance is just over there!”
“Yes, Ma, I’m coming!” She picked up her bag, and hurried back to her mom.
The mare whom she bumped stared at the filly as she reunited with her mother. She shook her head as she continued down the walkway, filled with gloom.
That gloom soon turned back into anger.
It was the second Sunday of May, also known as Mother’s Day. In the town of Ponyville, Mother’s Day is celebrated almost a big event as Christmas. With all the ponies going shopping and giving out gifts and singing songs about mothers, one could think of it as Christmas without snow. They even have a Santa Claus counterpart named Santa Mitera!
Everypony during this special day would either be celebrating with their mothers or be celebrating with their mothers. Not for this mare. Guess why?
She has no mother. A rarity for the young in Equestria.
Let us dive into her life to see why.
***
Victim was reported dead by doctors around night time. No definite time can be given due to [scratched out].
Cause of death was initially thought to be because of heart attack. Victim did seem to have all symptoms of a heart attack. It was later proven wrong by Autopsy and the Forensic Team. The attack was not natural; it was caused by a lethal dose of intravenous potassium chloride, a compound used for lethal injections that our forensic and autopsy team found in the bloodstream.
I requested for a further investigation, but the victim’s husband has talked with my director about this case. The director agreed to drop this case and we were called back. My team leader wasn’t so happy about this; he defied the director and continued with the case. That ended him being suspended for a few days. Eventually, the case was finally dropped, completely.
We all regretted having to stop this investigation. This will be the first time where we have to drop such a case.
I regret not doing more for I found out she had a daughter, in fact, two beautiful ones. If I had my way, this case would’ve been solved already. But sadly, writing this is my only way to tell the truth. Today is my last visit to the crime scene and this is my only chance to slip in this paper into the victim’s things, a locket specifically. Hopefully, her daughters find this and know the truth. Meanwhile, I have another case to investigate.
Equestria Criminal Investigative Service
This was what was written in a piece of paper the purple-furred mare whom the filly bumped was clutching in her hoof. An indignant look was glazed on her face as she speed-walked towards the Ponyville Detainment Center.
“How dare they lie to me!” she whispered angrily to herself.
Everypony who passed by her immediately steered clear of her; in a time of glee and joy, there was an enraged entity who seemed like she was ready to explode.
An old stallion who happened to pass by asked “What’s wrong, young lass?”
“Everything,” she replied without stopping. She continued as if she had not even noticed him.
“Ha, another young’un in their time of the month again,” he chuckled to himself as she stomped past him.
The scary part was that it wasn’t her time of the month yet. It would have been chaotic if it was.
A few minutes later, the mare arrived at her destination. The police station was decorated with red and white streamers and balloons signifying the holiday, and a life-sized statue of Santa Mitera sat by the glass door of the building. The entire place was empty except for the single police officer manning the front desk.
“Hello, sir,” the mare said as she approached him, acting all friendly. “How are you?”
“Hey, lil’ Citrine,” the officer said. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Say,” she added. “Have you heard from my father recently?”
“Why? Has he gone missing?”
She quickly shook her head. “Oh, no! I was just curious if he had talked to you at all. He has been really quiet these past few years.”
“Ah,” he replied. “How’s your sister?”
“Not good, she’s in hospital. The doctors who work there says she has a highly contagious and serious disease, and that I’m not allowed to visit her.”
The officer bowed his head in. “Hope she gets well soon…”
They stayed silent for a moment, until Citrine leaned in closer to him.
“I came here to find out about… Mom.”
The officer scratched his head in confusion. “Your mom? She died of a heart attack, right?”
“Did she die because of that?”
“Well, that’s what’s written in her death certificate, right?”
Her smile fell, but she tried to keep her anger hidden. “I feel like you’re hiding something, sir.”
“Hiding something?” He shook his head rapidly. “No, I’m not! Why are you suddenly interested in her death?”
She slammed the piece of paper on his desk. “This,” she said. “I found this inside her old bag.”
The officer grabbed the piece of paper, read it for about five seconds, and crumpled the paper up, despite Citrine’s objection.
He looked around nervously, before leaning in closer to her. “Look, there’s a reason why we keep silent about this and maybe it’s best you don’t know what really happened. Go back home, Citrine. Go back, make peace with your past, socialize with others-”
“You do not tell me how to live my life,” Citrine glared at him, her anger gradually revealing itself. “I will find out whatever happened to her, no matter what happens. You, or anypony else, can’t stop me.”
Looking at the unyielding eyes of the mare in front of him, the officer sighed in defeat. “Go visit the old shaman in Everfree Forest. Heard he can communicate with the dead. He’s practically your only hope right now. That’s all I can say to you, Citrine.”
“I’m coming back here if that shaman you’re talking about is no use to me,” she threatened him. “You better cough up those police records!”
Walking out of the detainment center, her anger suddenly turned to fear. Visit Everfree Forest at this time of the year, that single month where all those nasty creatures emerge from their lairs and find a mate?
“No, it is the only way,” she whispered to herself. Shrugging the matter off, she continued to the entrance of the dark, ominous forest.
It would be natural for a pony to cringe at the hair-raising melodies these alien creatures sing. In fact, their mating calls sometimes reverberated out of their domain and into Ponyville! It would be no surprise that hardly any buildings are present in the vicinity of Everfree Forest. Who would even stand the unendurable cacophony of random sounds that sounds like it came from the underworld?
At least for now, the creatures have calmed.
“Alrighty, let’s do this.” After Citrine sang a song her late mother used to sing to her to calm her down, she crossed the border.
Swarms of insects greeted her the second she stepped in. Any attempt she made at shooing the insects off failed. Despite the nuisance, she pressed on, ignoring the colossal, filthy, noisy creatures on her face.
Fifteen minutes into the trip did she realize going alone was a really bad idea. The insects were still swarming her face, but that was not the only problem. She has already encountered the greatest fear every traveler and explorer could face while doing their jobs: getting lost.
Getting lost would be fine if it wasn’t for the dense overgrowth of trees that prevented the sunlight from touching the forest floor.
Even worse, the more she traveled, the more she thirsted for water. The problem was that she hadn’t brought water with her before entering. What’s worse was that all the water reservoirs she found were littered with muck and algae.
Lights, lights shining everywhere. Citrine never found a suitable water source to quench her thirst and is now desperate for it. Now, her mind has to pay the price. She was never known for her survival skills, and her body seems to demand things like it’s regal.
Tired, hallucinating, and barely functioning, she decided to take a break, if sitting on top of a log in the middle of nowhere can be considered a break.
“I...I should have thought this through,” she muttered as she looked at a tree that began dancing. “I should have brought somepony with me…”
Of course, staring at the so called “dancing” tree was a mistake as it wasn’t a hallucination. Instead, it was the dreaded cockatrice. Feared for being a “living Medusa”, anypony who would be unfortunate to look directly at its eyes would be turned to stone. Lucky for Citrine, she was staring at its back while it was moving. Unluckily for her, the cockatrice soon noticed someone was looking at it.
Before the cockatrice can turn around and stare at poor Citrine, something small and round rolled between them, erupting into a puff of smoke. Startled, the creature squawked and flew away. Citrine, on the other hand, weakly looked to where the round object came from. She could faintly see the silhouette of a pony.
“What are you doing here?” he called out to her. His voice sounded hoarse and difficult, like an old pony’s.
Citrine did not respond. Her vision was swirling, her head was aching, and her ears were ringing.
The pony drew closer. He took a good look at the mare’s sunken eyes which were staring blankly into deep space. He walked to her side and leaned near her ear.
“Can you hear me?” he whispered. She responded with a slight nod.
“Good...good…” He took a step back. “Now, would you kindly tell me why you won't talk?”
Citrine weakly smacked her lips with her tongue.
“Ah. Well, I got just what ya need.” He opened his bag and took out a small leather water container. He grinned as he handed the container to her. “Drink up, lass.”
Hearing the fresh, crashing water inside the container, Citrine snatched the container from his hoof and emptied it into her stomach for a solid fifteen seconds, effectively draining all the contents.
“Thank you so much!” She returned the container to the pony. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it!”
“No problem,” he responded. “No problem at all!”
Citrine scanned the pony from top to bottom. His bleak gray mane and stature gave her a realization.
“Wait,” she said. “Are you a shaman?”
The pony’s eyes widened. “Why, yes I am! Have you been looking for me?”
“Actually, yes, I was.”
He stared at her with curiosity. “And why would you be looking for an old shaman at all?”
“You see, I lost my mother at an early age. She stayed at home by herself when me, my older sister, and my father went to Canterlot for a vacation. At that time, she was suffering from some kind of weird fever, so she could not come. My father hired a nurse to keep watch over her every day until he came back.
By the time we came back, we were greeted by doctors and police ponies who disclosed the bad news. From what I can remember, they said that she died from a heart attack in her sleep. But, the weird thing about that is the presence of police ponies. Why need them to announce the death of someone who died under natural means?”
“Hmm, you were a filly then, yes? I’m surprised you still remember all of this,” the shaman noted. “But why are you curious now?”
“As I said, it just didn’t add up. Mom was always healthy and strong, so saying she was sick was...just not right to me,” she responded.
“And you only thought of this now because you have grown older, yes?”
Citrine nodded. “Can you help me find out what really happened to her?”
“Help you I can do but how is the question.”
“You’re a shaman, you can contact her with your outworldly magical powers! Please, do it! For me!”
He diverted his gaze away from her slightly. “I’m… not in the mood to do so right now.”
She was struck with dismay. “C’mon! Please! I just want to know the truth about my mother!”
“But, your determination captivates my heart a whole lot, like some flint and steel setting alight a dark, cold campfire. I suppose I can perform a ritual right now.”
“Oh my!” She ran towards the shaman and gave him a big hug. “Thank you so very much!”
The shaman leads her to a small hut a few minutes away, just big enough for one pony to live in. Beside the hut was a small elevated clearing decorated with candles and some shiny black stones, with a granite slab up front with some cloth and more candles perched on top of it. Citrine recognized this as a ritual platform.
He made Citrine sit on a stone bench beside the platform and gave her some food. Afterward, he lit each candle lining the borders of the circular area using flames from a campfire transferred with a small twig. He then placed the twig in his mouth and sat in an indescribable position in the middle of the area.
Citrine’s eyes were observing his actions.
“I shall commence the ritual right now,” he speaked. “It is wise if you were to stay seated on that bench.”
She nodded.
“All right, I will now start.”
As soon as he said that, he closed his eyes and slammed his hooves on the ground. He started chanting in a language she had never heard before.
Suddenly, his body started convulsing. His eyebrows furrowed, and his teeth grit. Citrine could only watch in horror. She could have helped, but she kept her ground, since the shaman instructed her to do so.
He let out a loud scream a few seconds later and collapsed. Citrine rushed to him and lifted him up in a sitting position.
“A-are you okay?!” she worriedly asked.
The shaman coughed and gasped for air. “Y-yes, I am…”
“Oh, thank Celestia! Did you speak to her?”
“Unfortunately, no. Something is blocking her soul from my grasp.”
She bowed her head in disappointment. “Why do you think that was the case?”
“I’m sorry, young lady. I’m just a simple old shaman. I cannot fully grasp the definition of the afterlife yet.”
“Okay…” She sighed in disappointment.
“Don’t look so disappointed, I had tried my best. I know how much you care for your mother but maybe there are things one should not know.”
“I...I understand...but,” She let out a quiet sniffle. “What do you mean about knowing things?”
“My child, if it’s to make up for failing to contact your loved one, then I might as well tell you directly,” the shaman sighed. “Your mother’s death is not without a reason; her death wasn’t natural. Tell me, who was she when she was alive.”
“She...really isn’t that important. She’s like a common town mare, you know, just doing whatever town mares do.”
“What did do?”
“Well, I guess she sold things...Owned a pretty well-known shop near the town’s center. Wait, how is this supposed to help?”
“Everything, my child, for everything she does, from birth to death, can tell a lot about one.”
“Honestly...I don’t really know much about her past. She never talks about it; every time I ask her about it, she waves it off and say that it’s not important.”
“Ah, a parent hiding something is a bad thing…” The shaman looks into Citrine’s eyes. “It is time to go, young one. Move on with your life, do not dwell in the past. Go home...go home…”
She blinked in confusion and folded her ears backwards.
“I guess even you will tell me to stop snooping around, huh?”
The shaman moved closer to her, “My child, there will come a time where you will discover the truth but now isn’t the time. Do you understand me?”
“But I…” -she sighed- “Okay. I’ll go home.”
Though Citrine tried hard not to show her disappointment, her eyes said otherwise. A few tears managed to stream down her face and the shaman noticed it. He wrapped his forelegs around her in a comforting embrace, a feeling she desperately needed and so she cherished the moment.
“I-I really miss her…” she sobbed. “Are you sure there's nothing you can do?”
“I have done everything I can do, my child,” he told her. “Wipe up your tears and let’s go inside. You must be exhausted.”
After resting and having a nice snack, Citrine decided to go back home. The sun is about to set and she doesn’t want to wander around the forest in the dark. Sure, she could stay with the shaman for the night but she thought he already did enough for her. And so, the shaman guided her out of the forest and gave her something once they reached the end of Everfree. Citrine looked at the object, a red, glistening necklace. A faded gold locket hung from it with the letter F inscribed on it.
“Here’s a little something to make up for your trouble,” the shaman said. “I found this around here a few years back. Could be of more value to you, since I don’t really need nor want this.”
Citrine inspected the locket. Rust was evident on the chain, and some scratches were present on the locket itself. The letter F seemed to reach out to her in a rather unsettling way.
“Umm, thank you…” She bowed down in gratitude and put it in her bag.
She quickly walked towards the closest light she could see, which, unfortunately, is the cemetery. Also, this cemetery is where her mother is buried, which isn’t very surprising since it’s the only cemetery in town.
Since she was already there, she decided to visit her mother’s grave. Maybe talk to her about her problems, greet her a happy mother’s day. That is, if the pony working there wouldn’t mind...and if there is anypony working that is.
Citrine walked pass the many tombstones, shivering with every name she read. Soon, she was finally looking at her mother’s gravestone. She shed a single tear as she read the inscriptions on the gravestone, which contained her mother’s name, year of birth and death, and a small sentence of praise. However, her eyes caught sight of a much smaller inscription and took a closer look.
SEMPER FI
Semper Fi? Citrine stared at it, confused. That doesn’t make sense. The writing shouldn’t be there...unless…-
“Hey, excuse me miss, the dead won’t be up for a pretty long time. Give them the rest they deserve.”
Citrine, startled by the voice, turned around to face a stallion with a tired, flushed face.
“Uhm...those, err, puns are terrible and very inappropriate,” she awkwardly tells him. “And I’m visiting my mother, or what’s left of her. Who are you anyways?”
“Your mother, eh? Well, well, I’m the cemetery caretaker, working the graveyard shift as they call it,” he laughed at his own joke. “Name’s Charon and I have every reason to believe that my name has nothing to with my job. Why? Because-”
Citrine, who got bored listening, decided to check his cutiemark. She had never seen a caretaker’s mark and she’s taking the chance to find out. Would it be a tombstone? A shovel? A pile of dirt?
“Why is your cutiemark a heart with a cross?”
Charon, who was caught off-guard by the question, looked at his flank then at Citrine’s wide, curious eyes.
“Oh, this will be fun to explain,” Charon smiled. “I was once a doctor -yes, a doctor- and it was much more easy to interact with the patients, compared to the silent folks here. Seriously, my life is just ironic. For one-”
Citrine politely smiled throughout the whole story, though she barely listened. Once he was finished with the story, she sighed in relief, thanked him for the stories, and prepared to leave.
As Citrine walked towards the gate, Charon speaks up, “Hey, I remember you saying you were here visiting your mother. Can’t help but notice the tombstone’s name. You must be Citrine.”
She stopped walking, “How did you know my name?” She turned around and walked back to him, “How?”
Charon chuckled, “Looks like the rough stone eventually became a polished gem. I was friends with your mom, that’s how I know your name. I was also your family doctor, well, used to.”
Suddenly, an idea surfaced to Citrine’s mind. Maybe, he might know something about her mom that can help her find the reason she died. She might also know something about her mom’s past.
“Sir, can you please tell me everything you know about her and what happened to her,” she begged. “I really need to know.”
A sly grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Charon leaned on the closest tombstone and said, “Sure, I’ll tell ya everything about her...for a price of course.”
Shocked but desperate, Citrine accepted the offer. This made Charon smile even wider.
“Give me an item that has the most value to you...and to your mom.”
At this, Citrine paled, “W-What? You’re kidding, right?”
Charon mockingly shooked his head and leaned closer to her, “You want to know about your mommy, right? Well, this is the only way kid. No information comes without a price.”
“Why would you do this? She’s your friend! At least give me some slack!” Citrine tried to reason. This response just made Charon smirk and roll his eyes.
“Enough with the drama, kid. Sure, I might be your mother’s friend but that doesn’t really change anything,” he coldly stated. “Now, will you do it or not?”
Seeing as she had no choice, she wiped the tears that began streaming down her face and nodded.
“Good, you finally agreed. You can give it to me anytime but the sooner, the better, right?” Charon laughed then continued, though with a much more gentle and caring tone. “Wipe your tears and stay strong. You can’t show too much weakness in this world, kid, ‘cause if they see you like this, they’ll take advantage of you. Now, go home and take a rest. I’m sure you had a long day.”
Citrine nodded and took a deep breath, regaining her composure. Without speaking another word, she walked towards the gate and out of the cemetery. It would hurt parting with something both she and her mother cherished but it’ll be worth it. What really bothered her was the cemetery caretaker’s personality…
She completely forgot about the locket that was in her bag until she was just one block from her house when a gray-furred earth pony noticed it hanging from outside her bag.
“Ooh…” she eyed the locket. “That thing looks really old and valuable. Where did you get it?”
“I found it on the ground,” Citrine replied without stopping to look at her. From the tone of her voice, she thought the mare was going to steal it.
“Okay, then. Say, how about I buy it?”
This made Citrine stop at her tracks. “Buy it?”
“Yeah. I love collecting old, antique stuff. That necklace looks just like that. How about, ten thousand bits for that?” Her face produced a wide grin.
Citrine pondered for a moment. It all seemed too sudden, but a pony was gonna buy a necklace she was given a few hours ago.
“I could give you my number if you change your mind,” she added.
“This all seems too sudden,” Citrine replied. “I need time to think. Just give me your number.”
“Sure!”
They exchanged numbers, and Citrine continued on to the doorstep of her home.
“Dad, I’m home!” Citrine called out as she entered her house. As usual, she received no reply. Despite being used to her father’s silence, she still greets him every time she comes home. Maybe one day, he’ll change.
After a quick check of her surroundings and telling herself that her father is sleeping, she carefully walked towards her room. There, on the middle of her bed, was a bag containing all of her mother’s things.
“Give me an item that has the most value to you...and to your mom.”
The words echo in her mind, pushing away any other thoughts. It was mocking her, at the same time, motivating her. Sure, she may lose the item they both held dearly but she could be one step closer to finding who killed her beloved mother. But what if it didn’t? What if the information the gravekeeper is going to tell her be useless? These conflicting thoughts continue to torment poor Citrine.
Hold yourself together, she thought to herself, The sooner I decide, the closer I’ll be to finding out the truth…
Give him the item and hope for the best…
Or...
Don’t and find another way…
She took a deep breath and looked at the bag, What is the most valuable thing to both of us?
She looked through the bag's contents, finding what she believed to be the most valuable to both of them. The mirror? Both admired it but not really valued it. The cup? It didn’t really mean much to Citrine as it did to her mother. Maybe it’s the locket? The locket was beautiful and it contained Citrine and her mother’s pictures inside. Both of them value it so much, could Citrine really give it away?
She opened the locket and quickly closed it again, unable to look at the pictures inside. It would remind her too much about her mom and how she felt helpless without her. The locket was also where she found the folded paper telling that her mother did not die a natural death.
“Everything started because of you, locket.” She brought the locket closer to her face. “I hope everything ends with you.”
The next day, at the crack of dawn, Citrine strolled to the cemetery, half-scared and half- excited. She wore the locket that contained her and her mother’s pictures.
“I hope that gravekeeper ain’t a sham,” she mumbled to herself.
The gravekeeper gave Citrine a wide smile as she opened the gates.
“Good morning, miss Citrine!” he hollered. “Looks like you got yourself a shiny locket o’er there.”
She nodded. “This is a locket that contains our most beloved pictures together.”
“Well then. Show it to me.”
Citrine went up to the gravekeeper and gave the locket to him.
“This looks good,” he said, opening the locket. “A’ight. I’ll tell you some info.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“Your mother… You may think that she was a healthy mare, but in reality, she was not. She had a rare disease; a disease so rare it has not been studied quite well. As far as we know, though, it was potentially lethal, incurable, and hereditary. However, don’t you worry. You only have a tiny possibility that you also possess this scientifically interesting ailment.”
A slight frown formed on Citrine’s face. “Okay…”
“That disease, which we haven’t given a name yet, caused your mother some serious symptoms which occur very rarely but spontaneously. As far as my ol’ brain can remember, I figure some of the symptoms were sneezing, vomiting, convulsions, and a really high fever. This onset of symptoms happened to cause her to stay home from your little trip years ago, if I’m not mistaken?”
“Y-yes.”
“And your pop hired me, right?”
“I… think so.”
“Well, yeah, you’re correct. I was her doctor during her four days of recovery. Should’ve been expected, though, ‘cause I was your family doctor, and all-”
Citrine cut him off. “Can you tell me more about what happened when I was gone?”
“Hmm…” Charon opened the locket, revealing the photos Citrine and her mother treasured. He carefully looked at them all, his happy-go-lucky smile gradually fading away with every photo. After he took the last picture and put it back inside the locket, he gave it back to Citrine, with a tear rolling down his cheek.
“You two were… really inseparable,” he said with a chuckle, though it sounded much more of a sad chuckle. “Even if I lost my job, ended up as a gravedigger, and in dire need of money, if you really wish to know how your mother passed away, I would be glad to share all I know with you.”
“Oh, wow!” she replied, overjoyed. “Thank you, sir!”
“Haha, no problem,” he replied. “Now come here, lass. Hear me out.”
“For the first two days, she had this severe cough, which I thought was a new symptom of the disease, so I gave her some medicine to ease it a bit. She seemed to be recovering the more I gave her her other needed medicines. On the third day, she suddenly had a non-stop seizure. I called for emergency help, but by the time they arrived, she was pronounced dead on the spot. Trying to revive her was no use. The head nurse even tried a resuscitation spell on her, which sadly failed. At that point, our spirits faded away and had a moment of silence. Unnatural death was uncommon in Ponyville given the excellency of the medical staff, so this was pretty shocking for us.”
Citrine brought her hoof closer to her mouth in shock, “Oh my...that’s terrible…”
“Yes it is…” Charon looked at the pendant, “To see your friend suddenly die...it leaves a mark on you.”
“I suppose that’s all you’re going to tell me?” Citrine asked him.
“Eeyep, it’s time for you to move on.” Charon then gave her a pouch of bits, “There’s 50 bits in there, don’t waste ‘em all in one place.”
Citrine was confused, “What’s this for?”
“Your mother won the bet,” Charon answered with a huge smile, “Even in death, she still beats me.”
With that, Charon walked back towards his “home”, a small structure in the middle of the place, leaving a confused Citrine alone.
She thought of leaving and continuing her search when a thought came to her.
“Semper Fi!”
Charon stopped and turned his head to face her. A sad smile was on his face.
“What does it mean, sir?” Citrine asked him, “I found it etched on my mom’s gravestone.”
“Semper Fidelis...Always faithful,” Charon answered, “I know you found that note, Citrine, and I know that you know as much as I do about you mother’s death. Why don’t you go to the big building near the center of this town. Make sure the door has a horseshoe with a feather and a horn forming a cross on it. You’ll find some answer there.”
“How did you know about the-?”
“I placed it.”
And Charon continued walking, not turning back again when Citrine called out for him. His promise has been fulfilled and now it’s time to lay all of his ghosts to rest.
Citrine had a lot of questions on her mind ever since she left the cemetery. Who really was the gravekeeper? How does he fit into the puzzle? Is he related in any way to this mystery? And most importantly, why is the building he led her so important?
Who really was the gravekeeper? How does he fit into the puzzle? Is he related in any way to this mystery? And most importantly, why is the building he led her so important?
These thoughts were still on her mind by the time she reached the town’s center. She shook the thoughts off as soon as she realized where she was. She started looking for the building with the description the gravekeeper gave her.
“Building with a horseshoe...and a horn and a feather forming a cross on it…” Citrine muttered to herself as she eyed every building she could see. If it was a big building and it needed to be less obvious, then it chose the right place to be. But surely there’s another way to find this building without looking at all of the doors?
After looking at every doors she passed by and the weird looks that were given to her, Citrine found herself in front of an orange building. It was big, it was near the town’s center...And what’s this? Could it be?
“Yes! Finally found it,” Citrine excitedly said to herself as she triumphantly look at the door. A horseshoe with a feather and a horn forming a cross on it.
With a deep breath and a confident look, she entered the building. Her eyes were met with a disappointing sight; what she could see was only a white room with a door on the end. A guard pony sits nearby the door.
“There goes my expectations…” she muttered as she slowly walked towards the door. The guard seems to be oblivious to her presence; he seems to be reading one of the newest Daring Do book.
Right before she could open the door. Citrine was stopped by the guard (whose eyes were still on the book).
“You may want a visitor’s I.D before you enter, kid,” the guard monotonously said. He pulled something out of the book and gave it to her, “Make sure you wear this at all time while you’re here...unless you want to get arrested in there.”
“Uhm...ok, thank you,” Citrine slowly grabbed the I.D and placed the strap over her head. The guard just nodded and flipped a page, seemingly still concentrated on the book.
Citrine quickly opened the doors and went inside, wanting to get away from the awkward atmosphere as fast as possible. As soon as the doors closed, she sighed and wiped the sweat off her forehead. With the weird guard still on her mind, she failed to notice that the room she currently is started going up. She wasn’t technically in a room, she was in an elevator.
Soon, the doors opened again and this time, Citrine’s eyes weren’t disappointed. The room before her was a huge one and it seemed to be an office of some sort. There were a lot of ponies doing whatever they needed to do. And whatever they’re doing, it seemed very important to make them not notice her.
“Hey Joe, can you hand me the autopsy for the victim of TS-7?”
“I demand a total scan of the murder weapon right now.”
“I’m sending Detective out there right now. Hang on.”
“Yo dude, pass me some of those donuts!”
It was clear enough. She was at the Ponyville Police Headquarters.
And she had already planned out what she was going to do here.
“Hello, young girl,” a police officer approached her, words unclear because of the donut stuffed in his mouth. “Do you need some help?”
“I, um…” she stuttered. “Can I ask a few questions?”
“Oh, no problem!” he answered, “Just talk to...uhm…”
The officer looked around the busy office and sighed when he spotted the only one who seems to be not working.
“Well, you can try your luck with that guy,” the officer said as he pointed to the stallion who seems to be sleeping.
“Okay...thanks, I guess,” Citrine nodded and walked towards the desk of the sleeping officer.
Citrine got a good look of the snoring stallion; he seems to be the narcissist type, seeing as how well-maintained his coat and mane are...too well-maintained(though the mane is somewhat a mess). Also, with his soft-looking brown coat and yellow mane, one would wonder why his working as an officer of the law instead of something much more suited for him, like a lawyer.
“Uhm, excuse me?” Citrine tapped on the officer’s desk in an effort to wake him up, “Sir? I need to ask you something.”
The stallion woke up with a jolt and looked at Citrine with sleepy, grouchy eyes.
“Hmm...What do you want?” he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“I...uh...want to ask questions…” Citrine answered him.
The stallion rubbed his eyes and look at Citrine again. This time, his eyes widened.
“Oh, you can ask me any kinds of questions!” He answered a bit too eagerly. He fixed his hair and smiled, “Very Special Agent Eclipse at your service. Sorry for the rather rude tone earlier, I just don’t like being woken up from my nap.”
“Uh, nice to meet you..uhm…”
“Just call me Eclipse.”
“Oh, okay. Nice to meet you, Eclipse.”
He fixed his coat. “Now, what help do you need, miss…”
“Citrine. Just Citrine.”
“Alright, Miss Citrine!”
“Please no need to be formal, just call me Citrine.”
“Umm, okay, Citrine.” Eclipse held a sheepish grin. “You may continue.”
Citrine placed the note she found previously on the desk. “Would you care to explain, please?”
The still sleepy stallion glanced at the paper. Clearly he knew what was on it, judging from the surprised look on his face.
“W-where did you find this?”
“I found it in my late mother’s things.”
He immediately stood up and shared the note with some fellow officers nearby. They discussed for quite a long time. Then all of a sudden, Eclipse left the room, note in hoof. Citrine stood there, shocked at the sudden turn of events. Was he going to throw the note and leave her alone or maybe do something about it and help her? These thoughts occupied her as she waited for Eclipse to come back.
After a few minutes, Eclipse came back with 3 more ponies. The oldest of them approached her with a stern look on his face. Citrine knew he means business and that’s what scares her.
“Eclipse, is this the one that gave you the note?” the stallion asked.
“Yes boss,” he quickly answered. He then looked at Citrine with an apologetic face
The old stallion took a closer look at the somewhat cowering mare. Citrine swore he’s looking straight into her soul. After a few minutes, which felt like hours to her, the stallion took a step back and looked back at the three other ponies.
“Three of you, saddle up. We got a dead police officer in Ponyville’s Detention Center, “ he ordered them.
“Boss, what about-” the mare tried to say something but was quickly interrupted again by the old stallion.
“Cya will be our M.E for now. Now three of you. Go. Now. I’ll catch up later,” he sternly said before turning to face Citrine once more. The three ponies quickly grabbed their gear and hurried to the elevator. Though they were somewhat far, Citrine could still hear them speak.
“Eclipse, no more movie quotes in the crime scene!”
“Amber, just give up.”
“Yeah, Peridot’s right. Movie quotes are awesome. Cya would enjoy them.”
“I wonder how Boss will react to this...”
“To what, Amber?”
“TO YOUR STUP-”
With a ding, the elevator finally closes and the old stallion and Citrine is left with some sort of quiet one would appreciate in a busy building.
“Uhm...maybe I should go now…” Citrine hesitantly told the old stallion.
He tilted his head, “Go already? But you just got here.”
“Y-Yes...but, I think you have a…” Citrine trailed off as she suddenly realized what he said earlier. “W-Wait, did you say...a dead police officer?”
“Come on, filly, follow me,” the stallion said instead, dodging her question. He started walking before Citrine could say a word. She looked at the elevator then back at him, thinking which to choose.
“Hey, you coming?” the stallion asked when he noticed Citrine wasn’t following this.
“I-I’m coming!” Citrine immediately answered, quickly trotting next to him. The stallion merely smiled and lead her to a room.
The room in question is a big orange room with a long table and some chairs on the middle. On the table were some snacks and the chairs looks very comfortable. Citrine looked at the room in awe.
“Welcome to the conference room,” the stallion told her. “Enjoy what you see?”
“Why am I here, sir?” Citrine asked in confusion. The stallion merely just went to a counter and poured himself some coffee.
“Go. Take a seat and we’ll talk. But first, coffee?” he offered. Citrine shooked her head and sat down. The stallion grabbed his cup of coffee and took the seat closest to her.
“So, how are you nowadays?” he asked, catching Citrine off-guard.
“I-I’m...uh...fine, I guess,” she answered, uncertain on where this is going to go.
“Good, good. Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?” the stallion asked again.
Slightly annoyed, Citrine asked him in a demanding tone, “Look, sir, you said something about a dead police officer? What do you mean by that?”
The stallion sighed and took a sip from his cup, “No need to worry, there is no dead officer. Just some distraction to get those three off my back for now. Now, tell me why you want to know about the note.”
“Well, obviously I want to know what really happened to my mom,” Citrine answered, suddenly feeling angry. “They lied to me...I lived my whole life believing my mom died because of a heart attack. And to know that was all a lie, do you even understand how I’m feeling right now?”
Despite the somewhat angry tone of Citrine, the stallion continued to keep his calm demeanor, “No, I do not know how living a lie would feel. But I do know how it feels to lose someone you care about. Are you sure you are ready to know the truth?”
“I think I can handle it… at least…” Citrine muttered, unsure what to say.
The stallion sips one more time from his cup and threw it at a nearby trashcan, “You’re not yet ready, it seems. You can come back if you feel like you can handle it.”
“W-What…?” Citrine blinked in confusion.
“Come on, filly, I’ll show you the way out,” he monotonously told her.
“W-Wait! I just-” Citrine tried telling him but it seemed the stallion will hear none of it.
He was about to go outside the room when Citrine finally had enough.
“No! I’m done and tired being left in the dark!” she angrily yelled at him. “I’ve come here to find answers and I will NOT leave this place without it!”
The stallion slammed the door close and walked back to his chair. Citrine was suddenly scared and feared for her safety when she saw the look on his face. His eyes were filled with anger but also with a hint of sadness.
“Your mother used to work here. She was a part of my team and one of the best agents I’ve ever had. Even if she had children, she tried to work regularly. It was me who told her to take a break and enjoy her family because I know how dangerous our jobs are,” he stopped for a while and took a deep breath. “Tell me, before I start...How much do you need to know?”
“E-Everything! I need to know...everything about my mom….” she answered him.
“Now listen carefully if you really want to know,” the stallion told her. “But I’ll tell ya, it won’t be short.”
Citrine only nodded, unsure on what to say. He looked so serious….maybe a bit too serious. What did he know about her mother and why does it sound like she means a lot to him? What was their history together…?
“Your mother has joined this agency 20 years ago after an incident happened, which we investigated, that involved her family. It was a murder case. We never caught the suspect as the case was dropped mysteriously. She was furious.
Ever since that day, your mother has tried repeatedly to get a job here. She was a good policemare to begin with, clean records and praised by her C.O. She’s also smart and strong-willed, always finding a way to solve things despite the challenges she faced. We would have accepted her immediately if it weren’t for former director. Threw all her application letters into the trash he did.”
He sighed and took another sip of his coffee, not minding the intense stare of Citrine. She was surprised of how little she knew about her mother...yet again, she was just a filly when her mother passed.
“Now, I’m not going to talk about the cases she did, that’ll take a day or two to finish and I still have a job to do,” he continued, putting down the cup of coffee, “So, as she slowly got promoted from intern to special agent, there was a sudden increase of...hostility against her living family members. It was at this time she was married, and quite possibly, pregnant with you.”
A faint smile appeared in his face before disappearing, being replaced by a frown.
“She suddenly became a target and it was getting too dangerous for her to do her job, especially with you around. But we had to catch whoever is targeting her so came up with a plan. We placed your mother in a safehouse, somewhere not too isolated or too crowded. We had to make sure that we weren’t obvious so we left your mom in the dark about the plan. Thought she was just on a vacation that was recommended by us. We stayed at a nearby apartment, it gave us a good vantage view.”
The stallion stopped again, recalling the event. Citrine stared at him, waiting for him to continue speaking. He can’t possibly leave her hanging like this, right?
Finally, he spoke once more, making Citrine sigh in relief, “We caught the criminal all right, but not before he did some damage to your mom. He caught most of us by surprise, as it turned out to be our former director...but it looked like she expected him. Your mom, it turned out, was secretly investigating him. And when she got promoted, which means she has more access to E.C.I.S case files, the director got worried he might be exposed. Sneaky bastard, he is...managed to inject something to your mom.”
He sighed once more and took one last sip from his cup, “Well, we arrested him, brought your mom to the nearest hospital and...well, she went into labor. Called her husband immediately, nurses went to action, and after a long night of worry, you were born safe and sound. Would have been a happy ending if it weren’t for that something in your mom.”
“That would be...the disease she died from, right?” Citrine guessed. The stallion took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“This will be the last info I’ll tell ya, kid,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your mom’s death wasn’t due to some darn disease, hell no. But somebody was pulling the damn strings on us! Made sure we wouldn’t finish the damn case and made sure our current director dropped it!”
He slammed his hoof on the table, scaring Citrine half to death. If his normal self was intimidating, his pissed-off self is not to be messed with.
After a few moments, he managed to calm down enough to get up and head to the door. Before he left though, he gave Citrine one advice, which made her even more scared of what she’s getting into.
“Watch yourself, kid,” he told her, his tone dead serious, “Whatever you're investigating is dangerous and I can’t guarantee your safety. You can stay here for a while but it’s best you get home as soon as possible, before night falls.”
With that, he left a scared Citrine to process everything he had said and to make sense of the situation she had gotten herself in. For once in her life, she felt vulnerable.
It was late in the afternoon when Citrine finally decided to go back home. She tried getting more answers from the other officers but it seems that no one else wants to talk about it. Either they don’t know or are forced to keep their mouths shut. Seeing no other choice, and remembering what the stallion told her earlier, she decided to just call it a day.
“Goodbye, miss,” the guard gave a small wave as he took the card from her. He may be silent, but Citrine liked his politeness.
“Goodbye, have a wonderful day,” Citrine said in return, giving him a small smile. She swore she saw the guard grin, though he went back to his uncaring look almost immediately.
Once outside of the building, she took a deep breath and sighed. She learned a lot today and it was overwhelming. Maybe it was a good idea after all to go home early, she could use the remaining time to process everything that happened. Carefully looking at her surroundings, she quickly walked back to her beloved house.
The trip back home was really uneventful. Ponies continued with their lives as normal. The foals rushed out of school as soon as it was finished, the adults mingling at the market area, and Citrine just walked home. Finally, she reached the front door of her house.
Knock
Knock
Knock
As expected, her knocks are left unanswered, which either means nopony is home (which is unlikely) or Citrine’s father is still at his room, still the depressed stallion he is (which is more plausible). With a sigh, Citrine opened the door and stepped inside.
To her surprise, the house is lit, or the dining area anyways. Either somepony broke and is raiding their foodstuff or her dad is finally out of his room and decided that it’s time to talk to his daughter.
It must be an intruder.
Citrine carefully walked towards the lit area, grabbing the closest blunt object beforehand(or hoof). It was your household-friendly baseball bat, given to Citrine when she was a part of the baseball team. It really wasn’t much use though as she was kicked out of the team as soon as the ball struck her in the head. Hard.
Baseball bat by her side, she slowly walked towards the lit area. Due to how often the house is covered in darkness, the light proved to be more ominous than inviting.
Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc.
She was ready to teach the intruder a thing or two about batting. She was ready to use her bat one more time. She was ready to take advantage of the adrenaline coursing through her body. But she wasn’t ready when she heard a voice call out from the dining area.
“Citrine? Is that you that opened the door?”
Despite all of her logical and unbreakable reasoning, she was wrong. It wasn’t an intruder.
It was her father. And for the first time in many years after the death of her mother, he finally spoke again. To her.
“Y-Yes pa, it’s me,” she stammered out, somewhat in shock. She reluctantly placed her bat next to the wall, unsure if it’s really her dad or not. But no matter how much she can reason to herself, she knows that only her father can sound so…
“Ah, Citrine...Come on, don’t let your father forget how you look,” he said, sounding relieved. “I know it’s been a long time but...I think it’s time for me to be your father again.”
Even with those comforting words, Citrine continued to doubt. How many years has actually passed? 5? 10? 20? It’s been so long, can she really walk towards the stallion she once referred to as father and look at him in the eye?
Reluctantly, she went in the dining area. There he was, in front of her eyes, waiting for her with a smile. But that smile made her even more suspicious of him. How can such a sweet and comforting smile be so threatening?
“Come on, take a seat next to your old stallion,” he said, patting a chair next to him. “There’s a lot of things I want to tell you.”
With even more reluctance, Citrine did everything slowly. Something or someone in her mind is screaming ‘DANGER!’ at her and she can’t help but agree with it.
“I ,uh, hi pa…” Citrine greeted him, her voice sounding so pathetic.
He smiled, or made his smile even look more friendly looking, “I know it’s been a long time, Citrine, but you have nothing to be afraid about. I...I have thought quite a lot actually and I realized how much my withdrawal from your life may be affecting you. I just want to...apologize and hope that we can still make amends.”
“But...I, uh, I don’t know where to start…” Citrine hesitantly told him. “I don’t really know what we can talk about after all these years…”
“I know where we can start,” her father said with a sigh. “Where this all began, your mother’s death.”
Citrine froze, chills going up her spine. Her father has never spoke about her mother, never after her death. And for years, he would never even mention her, as if she never existed. Everything that is related to her mom, from family pics to messages and letters from, all disappeared the day after her death.
“Wait, dad, before we can talk about that, can we talk about something more comfortable first?” Citrine asked, no, begged. She also forced a smile. “Please? I just want us to talk about us first before we get to mom. You disappeared for so long, you’re now like a stranger to me.”
Her dad’s smile wavered for a moment before a sigh came out of him, “I...I didn’t realize how much my disappearance affected you. Sure, Citrine, let’s talk about us.”
Citrine got him in her trap now. She desperately need to know whether her father was the real deal...or something else.
“Hey, remember when I was on the hoofball team?” She asked, sounding nostalgic. “You were happy that I joined and did your best to train me to become a skilled shooter.”
Citrine’s father beamed, “Of course I do! And when I saw you win your first match and you won, I felt like the happiest stallion there is.”
“Oh my Celestia, I can’t believe you still remember!” Citrine laughed, “And how about the time you helped me with this project that was really hard to build. A working boat model?”
He hummed for a bit, as if thinking, “Ah, yes, the boat. I can’t explain why you chose it but you chose it. But with our hard work, it floated and sailed away.”
Citrine sighed nostalgically, “You still remembered...even after all these years we haven’t talked.”
“Of course I remembered, you mean a lot to me even if I stopped...being your father,” Citrine’s dad told her with what sounded like regret.
“One more remembering before we go to mom, okay?” Citrine said. “Remember the time where we watched spy movies together and how I admired the hero?”
“He was brave and kind after all,” her father affirmed.
“And how there was this mare that I said I related to her?”
“You claimed she did the things you believe would you would do in the same situation,” he agreed again.
“And finally, on the scene when she was not sure the main character was exactly the main character so she would ask a bunch of questions...to make sure he is the real main character…?”
Citrine’s voice was cold and sharp. Her father started to open and close his mouth, trying to find a way to answer this.
“I, uh, I-I don’t think I-”
Citrine quickly used her magic to grab the baseball bat she kept out of sight and held it threateningly.
“You have failed all of my questions. I was part of the baseball team, not hoofball, and I never won a match. There was no boat, it was a house, and lastly, I never watched such movies with you,” she growled. “Who are you and what have you done to my real father?!”
Her dad, or not her dad, looked at Citrine in surprise before smiling. A not-so-kind smile.
“You’re a pretty clever mare than I have realized,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought you’re just another mare who would believe in anything just to keep her family together.”
“Another…?” Citrine asked, curious to if he was just saying that as an overused expression or if he actually did this to others.
“Citrine, you were the first one to find out I was a fraud,” he told her, still with evil grin and calm tone. “But you’ll also be the last one to know.”
Citrine gasped in horror as she watched him suddenly be enveloped in green flames. Soon, the flames cleared to reveal one of Equestria’s worst enemies: A changeling.
“W-What have you done to my father?!” Citrine asked again, ready to strike.
“His in his pathetic room, slowly bleeding out and pathetically regretting things,” he sneered before showing his fangs. “Don’t worry, you’ll join him soon enough.”
With a terrifying screech, he lunged at her, fangs bared. Citrine quickly hit him with the bat, which sent him flying towards the counter with a crash and leaving the bat broken and useless.
Citrine immediately rushed out towards the door, her only escape. But in her panic, she failed to see how fast her attacker recovered and the chair that has been thrown at her.
CRAAAACK!
The chair broke as it collided with Citrine, knocking her down to the ground, also dealing tremendous pain and damage to her. Tears were streaming down her face as she sobbed and painfully and slowly crawled her way towards the door.
She heard hoofsteps getting closer to her. The door was still too far from her and no amount of crawling can save her. Even her magic was useless, as the pain was too much for Citrine to even concentrate to cast a simple spell. Knowing this, she allowed herself to cry but still, she inched her way towards her escape.
She was stopped by a stomp to the back, making her scream in pain. She cried, looking at the door that taunted her now instead of saving her. Seconds after the devastating attack, her attacker kicked her hard in the sides. Another scream from Citrine and the attacker smiled even wider.
“D-Don’t kill me...P-Please…” She begged desperately.
He leaned in closer to her ear, “Oh, I’m not going to kill you...not yet anyways. Kill you, they said. Do anything to her, they said.”
Another kick in the sides and Citrine let out a weak yelp. Too injured to even use her magic, she silently cried. Was this the end? Maybe they were right, maybe she shouldn’t have investigated. She could have just accepted what was told to her and move. Have a normal life, even...but now, it seems it’s too late for that. She’s sure her last family member is dying and she’ll disappear off the face of Equestria without the answers she desperately needed.
The door literally burst open, followed by a blonde stallion bathed in the freedom of sunlight.
“ECIS! Freeze!”
The changeling hissed and jumped away from Citrine, who had almost collapsed from exhaustion.
The stallion looked at Citrine and back at the changeling, scowling. “You sick fuck, I can’t believe you can do this to her.”
“I can do anything to anyone on my own fucking terms,” the changeling retorted, hissing, “So you better get that in your stupidly small pony brain.”
“Why you little…” Eclipse, the blonde stallion, growled before noticing the small green energy coming from the changeling’s horn. His eyes widened in realization as he watched the green magic grow brighter and bigger.
“Amber, now!” He yelled out to his unseen-as-of-yet partner and quickly jumped to the side. But he was too late. As he jumped, the changeling fired the sickly green orb at him and aimed right at his chest, exploding right before it hit and causing Eclipse to hit the wall.
“Eclipse!” His partner yelled out, quickly coming out of the door and firing a beam of specialized magic for changelings at the changeling. The changeling, whose pride and ego far surpasses Eclipse’s, merely laughed and surrounded himself with a force field. A mistake he soon realizes when the beam passed through his defenses and smacked him square on the face, knocking him out, at the same time, chained him up real good.
Citrine, finally free from her captor, tried to get up. It was a painful process and it wasn’t worth it, as she immediately fell back down on the floor, groaning in pain.
“Hey, hey, don’t move too much,” Amber told Citrine, walking to her side. “You’re hurt real bad. Don’t move, we’ll get help.”
“Fa...Father…” Citrine gasped and tried crawling, “He’s...hurt…”
After so many years of silence between them, Citrine still loved her father. Even after he kept all of her mother’s things, after he stopped her from investigating her mother’s death when she grew older. Even after he removed himself from her life.
“Where is he?” The mare quickly asked. Citrine pointed at a door that has not been open for such a long time that there’s dust on it.
“Please...help him…” Citrine tried once more to stand up. The impact of the chair and the strength of the stomp made her body weak and broken. But her will to try and reach her dad was too great for even death to take away. Amber, seeing this, helped her up.
“Lean on me, don’t put too much effort on yourself,” The policemare gently told her as she helped Citrine walked towards the door.
“Hey, slow down, your hu-wait!”
Citrine pushed through the door and fell down right beside her dying father. The sound of her fall did not sound pretty.
“Ahh, hell… “
Two other policeponies on the scene lifted Citrine and placed her in a waiting ambulance together with her father. The critically injured mare was barely conscious.
“Wi… will pa be okay?” asked Citrine with a fading voice, staring at her seemingly dead father, who was lying beside her.
“I don’t know,” replied a nurse who was keeping watch over them. “But I’m sure he will…”
These were the last words she heard before she slipped into unconsciousness.
A green pegasus examined the body of a male unicorn. While she does have the skills of a M.E. (Medical Examiner), she prefers being a forensic scientist and studying molecules and such instead of poking dead bodies.
The door behind her opened to reveal her boss, an old-looking (but not really old) earth stallion. He may look angry or grumpy but that’s usually how he looks. No one can really be sure on his exact emotions at any given time.
‘Uh, hey boss,” The pegasus greets him without taking her eyes off the dead body.
“Cya, cause of death?” Came the usual question of this stallion.
With a sigh, she replied, “As usual to torture deaths, bled to death.”
“Torture?” The stallion asked.
“Yeah, look at this,” She motioned him to come closer and pointed at the many wounds the cadaver has, “Multiple laceration wounds here and there, plenty of bruises, and here, at the neck,”-she pointed at it- “Obvious signs of choking. Damn, whoever did this must really want whatever information they wanted from him.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” The stallion muttered. “How about those samples Amethyst sent you? Got anything?”
“Eh, Boss, you know I can’t be both a medical examiner and a forensic scientist at the same time,” she made gestures with her wings, expressing her frustration. “I mean, what happened to our old M.E?”
“Don’t worry about that, Cyanide,” the stallion headed towards the door, “He’ll be here later. Now, go do what you have to do with the samples we sent you.”
The pegasus saluted with her wing, “Sure thing, Boss. I’ll have the results in record time.”
With a nod, he left the room. Once she was sure he was gone, a big goofy grin formed on her face as she hoofpumped.
“Yes! No more talking to dead bodies!”
Amber stood behind the one-way glass, the only thing in her way to beating the lights out of the changeling inside the interrogation room. She watched as the changeling continued to yell out profanities and insults at his captors.
Once again, the stallion enters the room behind the glass, his face still showing no emotions.
“What’s the status on our little friend here?” He asked.
“Still swearing and thinking his changeling magic can save him,” Amber growled, staring intensely at the changeling. “Why can’t we just let the princess handle this? Heck, just throw him in the Everfree Forest with an anti-changeling magic collar.”
“Amber.”
The mare just rolled her eyes and sighed, “Fine. I’ll interrogate him without hurting him.”
The stallion shook his head, “No, no, I’ll be the one. You did enough, let me handle this.”
Amber gave him a “Oh come on!” face and just sighed. It was probably for the best, she may punch the changeling in the face and it’ll all go downhill from there.
So Amber continued to watch the changeling behind the glass as the stallion exited from the room, only to reappear in the same room as the changeling with a folder in mouth.
“Oh look who’s come to talk to me,” the changeling sneered at him. “What you gonna do, old man? Lecture me about the good ol’ days?”
The stallion said nothing, nor did his face changed as he placed the folder on the table and sat across the changeling.
“Oh, the silent treatment, huh?” The changeling chuckled, “What kind of interrogation technique is that?”
The stallion ignored him and opened the folder. He pulled out a picture and placed it on front of the changeling. It was a picture of the murdered: Citrine’s father.
The changeling stared at the picture, “You think you can get information out of me by just using pictures? You must be going senile.”
Another picture placed down, this time, it was the victim: Citrine.
“You're just wasting your time here, grandpa,” the changeling sneered. “I won’t be giving out any information.”
“That’s fine by me,” the stallion replied as he placed another photo on the table. This time, it took the changeling by surprise.
It was a picture of a mare, with a smile that could make a sad ponies day better. Picture was taken a day before her joining the police force.
“Who’s that?” The perp asked, taking a closer look at the photo, “Is..Is that…?”
The stallion leaned closer to the changeling, “What happened to you? What kind of path did you take after all these years?”
“Don’t pull the guilt card on me!” The changeling yelled, “I tried my best on this damn agency but I was still disrespected. So it wasn’t a damn mystery why I left.”
“But why did you have to kill? You could have chosen to live a normal life but instead, you chose to murder!” The stallion slammed his hood on the table.
“Normal life? NORMAL LIFE?!” The changeling hissed, his eyes filled with anger, “You think someone like me, a creature that has been considered an enemy by most, can live peacefully without being looked down upon?”
“You could have at least tried! She trusted you the most and seen you as one of us, not below us.” The stallion sighed, “And look what you’ve done to repay her kindness.”
“What did I say about using the guilt card, gramps?” The changeling gritted his teeth, “Don’t you dare use her as a leverage in getting any information out of me!”
The stallion moved the pictures of Citrine and her father forward, to which the changeling stared in confusion.
“If you have a brain, you’ll figure this out,” the stallion said before heading towards the door. “See you later, make sure you have something to say when I get back.”
He left the changeling looking at the pictures with confusion. And if he waited for a second, he would’ve have seen the changeling's face change from one of murderous intentions and pridefulness to disbelief, regret, and sadness.
Charon sat on one of the chairs in the big room, anxiously tapping the table. There was a coffee cup, which had obvious signs that it got spilled, and half-eaten cookies next to him. A really nervous stallion, this gravekeeper is.
He immediately stopped the tapping once the stallion entered the room carrying another plate of cookies.
“What took you so long?” Charon asked him, “And why did you get another set of cookies?”
The stallion placed down the cookies and took a seat next to him, “What wrong? I thought you loved cookies. I know I do.”
The gravekeeper chuckled and shook his head, “I told you, that was a long time ago. I prefer muffins.”
Nevertheless, he grabbed one of the sugary sweets and took a bite, “But, I still eat this from time to time…”
“She’s going to be fine, Charon,” the stallion told him before taking a sip of his own coffee.
“How can you be so sure about that?” Charon asked him, sounding distressed, “She nearly got killed. If those two haven’t arrived on time, then only Celestia knows what the changeling will do to her.”
He sighed as he slumped down in his chair, “Who did the autopsy on the deceased while I was gone?”
“Cyanide, of course,” the stallion replied. “Though she was wondering where you went. Told her you’ll be here today.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong. Glad you assigned her instead of another pony, she really has quite the skills for a young mare.”
They continued to finish their snacks in silence. Charon’s nervosity has obviously lessened, a small grin on his face. After a few minutes, the Stallion drank the last drop of his coffee and smiled. The very first expression he has shown on that day.
