The Thief and the Knight

by Dracon_Pyrothayan

First published

A Burglar in Canterlot! Can Intrepid Policemares apprehend the dashing rogue? Is all as it appears?

A Burglar stalks the elite of Canterlot. Can two intrepid guardsmares apprehend the dashing rogue? Does he deserve to be caught? All will be revealed on this stage!

Each chapter has a different pony behind the wheel.

Pre-readers and fan-art appreciated! If this proves to be awesome, I would definitely be in the market for converting it to a radio play.

Prologue

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FILLIES AND GENTLECOLTS! MARES AND STALLIONS! CREATURES OF EVERY SPECIES AND AGE!

Not so long ago, there was a day, and it was much like today.

And on that day, Celestia rose the sun , much like she did today , and the bakers baked bread , much like they did today , and the ponies spoke with one another in the streets , much as they are doing today (Yes you young sir please do not interrupt the performance if you would be so kind).

However.

Unlike today, a Rumor wafted, then, in the breeze, a tale all the more fascinating for its truth, lilting in our Equestrian Skies. Like water, it burbled through the streets, cascading through crowds as though in flood. Like flame, it rose through building, feeding on all ponies it touched, growing taller and more vibrant upon each telling. The birth of a legend, organic as the elements, growing and shifting and connecting with all that heard it… all that told it….. all who witnessed it.

News shocked many, and inspired others. News on whose significance no two ponies could agree, for no news like it had spread since the days of Star Swirl the Bearded, since Before the Possession of Luna and the Coup of Nightmare Moon, since the days when the Dragon Kings and the Alicorns ensnared the Elements of Harmony.

For on that day, which was much like today, there was a Thief in Canterlot.

Gasp is right, good madam, for such shock is the appropriate reaction to hearing of such Heinous Crime, but this was not some back-alley ruffian who mugged the drunkards leaving the salt-licks, nor was this some highwayhorse forcing the merchants to choose twixt their bits or their, ahem, ‘bits’. Nay, this was a Burglar, a ghost who managed to empty lockboxes when nopony was looking, in the blink of an eye, or the change of a guard. This was some Taraxippian pacifist who claimed only the treasures of the wealthy.

The Rumor took wing, for not much was known, and ponies lust for detail. Perhaps the Burglar struck whom she struck out of convenience of the score, and nought else. Perhaps his motives were more sinister, gathering artifacts that would release his dark lord Discord. The argument between those who thought she gave what she stole to the poor like a modern Riding Hood, or if he only stole that which was impossible to steal for the challenge of it, managed to cause rifts in marriages, and spark passions in others.

The Princess’ protégé and her fellow Elements came to the conclusion that it was an eldritch abomination who tunneled in from where the past and future meet, taking the objects for temporal sustenance.

Thus is the power and absurdity of rumor.

But that day, much like today, there was at least one pony who knew the Truth of the matter, for who can know one’s motives better than oneself?

My fellow ponies, My Audience, My Taleteller’s Court (And my griffon chick why don’t you come up to the front so you can see the show better that’s a sport), I have feasted my eyes upon the Royal Guard’s Dossier of this case, which has been missing for years, as the papers inside are the last thing that The Burglar stole.

This, madams et monsires, is the tale of The Thief and The Knight.

Chapter 1: And the Day's Just Getting Started.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everypony knows that the Royal Guard has a few secrets they keep from the general populous, but none, not even how they kept even their coats uniform, were held so jealously as this. In fact, I’ve got them more terrified of a leak on this matter than the possibility of the paparazzi at Equestria Daily uncovering the Princesses’ travel itineraries. Careers could be unmade if anypony brought to light the fact that their Esteemed Captain, Siren Blues, was absolutely adorable in my sleep. It is also the reason that image-recording gems are forbidden in the barracks, though I trumped up some reason about counter-espionage to justify the policy.

Tonight’s performance in the barracks was not so different. My cloud blanket had escaped once again, settling into the Summerlands proud that it had managed to interrupt Her Majesty Celestia’s breakfast, causing a pillow fight between the ancient sisters that gave her staff shell-shock.
Judging from the distance I had bucked it, and the melody I was apparently humming in her sleep, I must have been dreaming that I had gone undercover as a River-dancer. I have no further comment on the matter.

Celestia rose the sun swiftly this morning, as the royal feud had escalated to the point of water-balloons, (though Luna had yet to discover this fact), ensuring that my phantom nemesis would escape once again. A sigh escaped my lips as I tumbled out of bed, reviewing my most recent case-file as I brushed my mane.

On Friday, the 23rd of [coffee stain], one Earth Pony Stallion named Hoity Toity discovered that the Canterlot branch of his clothing store “Cheval Raiments” was missing a set of Jewelry commissioned for Princess Luna’s re-coronation. The door had been locked when he arrived at 5:34, and he had locked it upon receiving the jewels the previous night (Courier Slip stamped at 21:17). Salesponies’ and on-sight tailors’ shifts ended at 17:00, and Toity was alone for intervening hours. Truth spell confirms was outside job.
On Sunday, the 15th of the next month, one Earth Pony Mare named Photo Finish discovered that the five, 28-hand Neoponic magical urns that she had purchased at auction for use as props with “ze next flootershai”, had been stolen. [Urns have no intrinsic magical ability: are merely photogenic.] Though Ms. Finish sleeps in her studio, with her entourage of 37 ponies, Unicorns confirm nopony witnessed the theft of the massive jars.
On Monday, the 30th of the same, the Prarisian embassy reported that political missives and passport making equipment, normally kept in a locked vault underground, had disappeared overnight. The Ambassador’s Translator, one Unicorn Mare called Fleur de Lis [originally Flower Lily], recalls a feeling of paranoia when she opened it the previous morning, as though somepony were watching her. The embassy had yet to open its doors. Curiously, Ms. Lily’s mislain diamond broach was discovered in the room, untouched.
Due to frequency and improbability of incident, we are assuming that these thefts are connected, most likely being performed by a solitary, extremely skilled, pony. Officers are advised that, if they manage to apprehend the perp, they are not to take their eyes off the individual.

Mid-brush, my morning reverie was shattered, as one of the newer additions to the force barreled in through the window.

“Ma’am? Sorry to intrude, but there’s been a development!”

Young Signal Flare had no idea how close she came to death by interrupting brushie-time without an offering of caffeine in hoof.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The absolute worst thing about this burglary case is the witnesses. Being locked in a room with a charcoal grey Unicorn stallion whose eyes and vocal chords seemed to have been surgically implanted in his nostrils should net me hazard pay. There is simply not enough coffee in the world to put up with this ‘Jet Set’ gelding, though Luna knows I drank all that I could.

“Well, as I was saying Ms. Siren” (Sweet Celestia, he chews his vowels like cud.) “the Wife and I were attending another charity auction at South Bee’s, held by Fancy Pants himself you know.” (The 8th time he’s mentioned it. Am I supposed to know who this Fancy Pants character is?) “We bought this daarling chaise lounge, genuine dragon-scale you know, and my word, a set of antique spellbooks that would just look fabulous in our study, pointedly not on display so that everyone will notice them, you know…” (Nightmare, doesn’t this guy ever shut up?) “…and when our carriage, genuine apple dressage, with the roof enchanted to look like the night sky, after that maaaarvelous showing at that disastrous gala a few months back, got us back to our mansion, all of it was GONE can you believe it?”

Now my attention was piqued.
“It didn’t fall off the roof or anything, right, sir?”

“Madam, I do not think you understand. Apple Dressage carriages have a magical storage compartment in the roof, opened through the seat somehow. Pie-Hooves technologies, top of the line, don’t you know. We were sitting on the only access point to the antiques the entire time, so we were Absolutely Positive it had to be this Ghost Burglar we read about in the papers. Ohh, Woe is me, in my time of misf…”

I stopped listening to him at this point. I’d have the techies behind the mirror tell me if he whined anything interesting while I gathered my thoughts.

This burglar has managed to progress from flawless breaking and entering to international incident to stealing items out of magical impossibilities, all in the span of a month and a half? Who is this pony?

“Pardon, sir, sorry to interrupt your tirade, but I’m going to have to step out for a while. We’re going to draft a copy of your statement thus far, and we’ll need you to sign it for us. We will also need to investigate the scene of the crime, as well as impound your carriage as evidence.”
Hah, he’s sputtering now. Classic.

“Don’t worry, sir. It is a crime to tamper with evidence, and we have the magic to make sure that it will be returned to you in the state it is delivered to us. If we find anything, it could lead directly to the villain, and we would be able to return all stolen property to you after the trial. Assuming this guy hasn’t sawn up your chaise lounge and sold it for scraps or something.”

A quick trot to the mare’s room later, and I called Flare out of Interrogation B. Kid showed talent, and I figured that forcing her to take Set’s even more insufferable wife’s statement was apt punishment for this morning. Two birds, and all that.
Before I could ask her if she found anything, she glared at me, eye twitching.

“I’m not sayin’ anything ‘til I’ve had a smoke”.

Dumbfounded that somepony in Canterlot still had access to the Buffalo’s crop after that fiasco in Appleloosa, I followed her outside. Instead of pulling out a pipe, however, her mane simply caught on fire as a wordless scream of exasperation shook the heavens.

“Dang, kid, I haven’t seen a blowout that bad since we had to keep that Unicorn of Celestia’s out of a crime-scene at the Library. Wound up having to arrest her for arson. “

“That Jeanette is the WORST mare I have EVER had the misfortune of meeting! ‘Ooo, I just couldn’t do my mane right this morning and it looks so horrid. Are you from the country? I’m surprised we let you birdbrains into Our city. We should go back to the Old ways, back when there was still Romance in the air, and ponies knew their places. Discord knew how to run a tight ship! Nopony would have stolen from us if HE were back in charge! Now how much do I have to pay you servant-types to find my things?’ GAH!”

Signal collapsed, having forgotten in her rage to have inhaled while bellowing. Turns out, Red Pegasi can still turn blue from lack of oxygen.

I gave a weak smile to the startled crowd of spectators gathering around our building. “Caffeine Withdrawal” were the only words that came to my head that would protect the identity of our witnesses. (Laws must be followed, even when they protect the annoying.) The crowd nodded, understanding the supposed plight and dispersed.

“Feeling better?”

Two nods and a wheeze from the cadet on the ground.

“Good news is we’re done interviewing those two.
Bad news is I’m going to have to cite you for disturbing the peace. Part of that citation is that you’re not allowed out of my sight for the rest of the day, missy.

For future reference, Interrogation C is soundproof for exactly this reason. Also, if you’re going to interrupt my brushie time, do so with coffee, and I’ll be less likely to make you interview the idiots, though it’s still possible. You get anything useable out of her drivel?”

A nod, a wheeze, and a trembling notepad rose from the pavement.

“Good. I’m going to send some techs to find out what exactly this Pie-Hooves technology does, ‘cause there’s no way in Everfree that I’m gonna understand all the jargon those genius types are going to throw around.

Meanwhile, you and me are going to go investigate the crime-scene.
That is to say, the carriage, the auction house, and if nothing turns up there, then the entire roadway they took from point A to point B, which…” I hurriedly flipped through her notes, as I had skipped the question in my interview, and would rather not talk to Jet Set again this century. “… according to your notes Upper Crust had memorized as being 40 blocks away from each other.
We’ll be doing that aaaall by hoof, by the way. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

A whimper, followed by a tiny, sarcastic, “joy”.

Chapter 2: Evidence and Theories

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 2~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahh, Canterlot. The Skyward City. The Jewel of Equestria, a city so beautiful that even the Princess makes her home here. Well, both of them now, though we don’t really see much of Big L….

I had dreamt of this place ever since I was a filly, hearing tales of Riding Hood and her Merry Mares romping about in Whitetail Wood at my Grandsire’s knee. I had longed to walk in her streets, and meet her ponies.
I guess I shouldn’t have wished so hard.

Turns out that the Guard I had wanted to join since foalhood tended to prefer letting the naïve newcomer earn the ire of their Captain for some jollies. Seriously, nopony could have warned me about her crazy overreaction to interrupting her morning routine? Nopony?

Ugh. If a prank war they want, then a prank war they shall receive! My sister and her friends learned long ago not to give the filly with a symbol of Burning Justice a cause!

…okay, it was a candle. With a smiley-face carved into the wax. At least Spitty was fireproof, unlike the house…

“Hey, Flare, could you cool it with your mumbling? I swear, all you’ve said the whole time we have been here is ‘heh, heh, fire, I’ll show them, I’ll show them all’ over and over, and frankly, it’s starting to creep out the butler here.”

I looked up, sheepish, at the poor pony who had to live with Jet-Set and She-Who-Must-Never-Be-Mentioned-Under-Pain-Of-Burnination.

“Sorry, sir. Rough morning at the precinct. We’re here to take a look at the Apple Carriage?”

The butler nodded, silently, and showed us to the garage. And then left, as quickly as his training would allow.

“So, Kid. This guy stole a set of pretty big stuff out of a moving carriage with nopony the wiser. Any ideas?”

“Wait, you want me to take lead on this?”

“Hay no, just seeing if your guardspony instincts are kicking in yet”

Huh. So this was some kind of test, then. Let’s see, what do we know about the heist already….

“Captain, could you open the magic roof-box thingy for me? And then turn off the lights when I tell you: I’ve got a hunch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember my Grandsire telling us about how there used to be Phoenixes living with us in the North, and how they gave some of the foals Hurricane left behind some of their magic when the Windigoes came. My ancestors. I learned to use their gift playing with Spitfire as a foal, and we both grew to be good improvisers.

Now that I think about it, she’d caught fire to the stands at her first Derby, so even though I exploded because of She-Who-Figs-With-Rainbows, at least I didn’t invent the Buccaneer Blaze.

“Alright, Captain. Kill the lights, and look for any glowing. I’m going to light up”

“Whoa, Kid, you’re sure that box is fireproof?”

“My fire doesn’t burn unless I want it to. Family Secret.”

The lights went out, and white light pierced through the roof, a rough rectangle dancing on the ceiling of the garage.

“Hey Blues, where’s it shinin’?”

“Nice trick, kid. Looks like somepony popped the lid off of this thing. You sure you’re not catching fire to the cart?”

“Positive. Let’s get this thing back to station, and let the Unics at the crime scene know that we’re looking for sawdust.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would not have been so eager to leave if I had known that I would be the one to pull the cart the entire way. The very much not-enchanted-for-Pegasi-use very-clearly-designed-for-more-than-one-pony-puller cart. You’d think that the downhill nature of the trip would help. You would also assume that the brakes on this thing worked properly.

Praise Celestia for the giant raincloud we keep on hoof for fires.

They found sawdust at South Bee’s, in the Cart-Park (they probably had some fancy name for it, considering they don’t call ‘em carts, but I don’t care). The entrances to the lot were watched by valets all night, even the cliffside exit for airships and Pegasi, and all vehicles’ owners and operators were accounted for. Truth spells all around showed up clean, annoyingly.

Still, though, I was starting to put pieces together. The sawing had happened at South Bee’s, but nopony saw anypony getting away with the goods …

“Hey, Kid. Bad news. The folks at Pie-Hooves refused to talk to our tech ponies, so we gotta head over to Fillydelphia. Gear up for teleport in 5, unless you’d rather fly”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hate teleporting. I didn’t even know it was possible to teleport a Pegasus, but the folks at Pie-Hooves had apparently figured it out. I’ve never teleported before today, in fact, but as I came to, the loathing was already swinging full force.

“Um, officers? Just so you know, that has never happened before. All of our tests have shown this to be”…

The thistle-coated mare peering down at me looked like she had recently escaped from a particularly rowdy nightclub, or possibly a mad scientist’s slab. The dozens of piercings and insane cut of her stone-grey mane looked all the more absurd considering the half-moon reading glasses she was now sporting.

“…and Ditzy and I were very concerned when we heard that someone had broken into one of our TDV units, and that we ought to talk with the daring detectives directly, rather than risk our secrets be spread throughout the entire force. Not that we don’t trust your people, but oh dear this has gone all fish-shaped. Hello, my name is Yersinia Egret Pie, PHD, but my friends call me Yerie. Or Pestie, if you know your biology. Anyway, Ditzy’s already down in the lab where we keep the TDVs running, so we’re heading there, but feel free to ask me any questions you’d like about the case. Also, sorry about the duck; it teleported in with you, and we most certainly did not let it loose on purpose in a misguided attempt to make your welcome a bit more fun.”

A glance to my left as I got to my feet was worth a thousand mornings like the one I had gone through. The captain, who was just beginning to stir, was finding the process difficult because she had managed to tie her legs and wings together with her tail while unconscious. Also, a fairly large bird was ankle-deep in her nostrils, not daring to quack.

I made a note to myself to dare for it later.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Pie. My name’s Signal Flare, and as Captain Siren Blues seems to be a bit tied up at the moment, would you mind answering a few questions while my captain frees herself of her predicament.” A quick nod, and a smile from the mare before me. “ First, do you make the Apple Dressage carriages here, or is there some easily accessible factory that somepony could practice on?”

“Oh, most of the carriage is built off-site. In fact, we don’t really bother with any of the parts you could call a ‘Carriage’ at all. We would never let anypony else install a TDV, and according to what your techs told us when they were trying to talk with us, that’s where the goods were stolen, right?”

The captain, having disentangled herself at the expense of quite a lot of her tail, and several pained yelps, stared hatefully at the duck while asking “Might we see one of the things when it’s not in a carriage? And on the way, can you explain to us what it is?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what you’re telling me is that you’re breaking the laws by building this”

“Only of physics, captain. Also, even though our technology isn’t covered by any laws yet, we would never do or sell anything amorally. Our company was founded on Sisterly Love, and the belief that all knowledge has innocent uses. I mean, we could conceivably use the technology behind the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 for ill, and yes, some of our former Salesponies ran off with one, nonpareil my bubbly butt , but you don’t see any harm coming from the Party Canon, do you? Or the Roflcopter?”

“Wait, a party CANON? I’m fairly certain there are laws against siege weaponry, even if they’re antiquated”

Our conversation with Ditzy Doo had taken an interesting turn. The Pegasus certainly looked like she could have been Dr. Pie’s sister, as they appeared to swap body and mane colors, and having siblings of two different pony types, though rare, certainly wasn’t unheard of.

“Miss Doo, I’m starting to think that you and your sister might need to run your inventory past the local branch of the guard before you tell me anything incriminatory.”

“…Yerie and I aren’t sisters. We each have a sister who is remarkably good at doing things that are supposed to be impossible. Out of love for our sisters, we study their impossibilities, and re-create them for the public. The Teleported we used to bring you here was one of our first projects, as it’s an ability that Derpy and Pinkie share, despite neither being a unicorn. Derpy actually got to see this year’s Best Young Flyer competition from five different vantage points, while also competing. She came in third. Theirs are the names on our sign, not ours. We let them have the prototypes, partially because we know that they won’t misuse them. The combination of Science and Enchantments we have used on all of our devices are designed to malfunction if used malevolently. As I know that you have more important things to do than to harass businessmares who are staying within the confines of law, I will let you examine the TDV that Yerie has brought up for you, but I no longer wish to discuss it with you, and if you are still here when my daughter gets back from babysitting my niece, I will ask you to leave. Let us know if you have any further questions, preferably by Equestrian Mail. Good day, ladies.”

A shocked silence descended on the room as Ditzy Doo stormed out. And then stormed back in, storming out a different door. One that lead to a hallway, and not a broom closet.

“Captain? Is it just me, or did that go as awfully as possible?”

“…That would be why you never barge in on me when I’m brushing my hair. Always leaves me in a bad mood.”
“Well, the good news is that I noticed something while you were playing ‘perturb the Pegasus prodigy’. “

“Oh?”

“Inside of that TDV thingy is glowing green, and is way bigger on the inside. The box in the carriage’s interior wasn’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ok, so this is what we think happened. Our perp snuck into the cart-park somehow, likely by hiding underneath one of the carriages. He sawed the roof open, hid in the roof, and waited. After the carriage left the cart-park, then he was able to crawl up the hole, pull the TDV box out of the same hole, and fly off with it. We are therefore assuming this was a particularly strong Pegasus, or perhaps a very stealthy Griffon. If you have any information, do not hesitate to come to the Canterlot Headquarters of the Equestrian Guard. Captain Siren Blues will now take any questions you may have”