> To Protect And Serve: A Sisterverse Tale
>  by brokenimage321
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was past two in the morning when Radiance tore the paper from her typewriter.

Her sudden hatred for the form she had been working on may have come from her lack of sleep. Or perhaps she had simply lost patience with the thing. In any case, she ripped it from the typewriter with her teeth, crumpled it in her hooves, and tossed it in the wastebasket beside her desk. It would have landed neatly inside, were it not for the fact that the wastebasket was already overflowing with similarly-sized wads of paper. Radiance buried her face in her hooves, took a deep breath, and started counting to ten. 

Radiance was a white unicorn mare in her early twenties. Her mane and tail were both a deep, rich violet, with a gentle wave that, ordinarily, she was quite proud of. Tonight, however, she wore her mane in a tight bun, and had her tail tied up in a neat little bob. It would have been nice to let them down, but she was technically still at work, despite the fact that the rest of the department was dark and still. 

Radiance absently adjusted the collar of her navy-blue uniform, whose matching cap lay on the desk beside her. The uniform still smelt new, and the silver badge on her shoulder--engraved with the words “CANTERLOT POLICE DEPARTMENT, #4572.”--still sparkled. She would have done her best to keep it fastidiously clean and pressed, but it hadn’t even been in service long enough for the creases to fall out. Much less for it to pick up the stench of smoke, sweat and despair that clung to the veteran officers.

Radiance wiped at her eyes with one hoof, then looked up. She was working at one of the common desks shared by all the rookies. The Department had strict regulations about what knicknacks, posters, and so on the rookies could display, but Radiance had still taken the time to lay out some of her inspirations before she’d begun tonight. She let her eyes drift across them, by the dim light of her desktop lamp. First was a Shadow Spade novel, with a picture of the daring detective herself on the front cover, read and reread and treasured and cherished until it was literally coming apart at the seams. Next to it stood a small, framed photo of Radiance herself from when she was a filly. She was wearing an oversized policemare’s cap and smiling up at the camera with a bright, gap-toothed smile. Last in line was another framed photo, this one much larger than the others. They had taken it on the day of her graduation from the police academy. Radiance stood in the middle, her mascara already running, and a wide, undignified grin plastered on her face. On her left stood her older brother Shining Armor, and, on her right, her father, Night Light. They had been so proud of her…

Radiance took another deep breath, pulled a fresh form off the stack at her elbow, and inserted it into the typewriter. She turned the roller knob on the side to line up the form under the type heads. As she did, she took another glance at her graduation photo, her gaze lingering on her smile. Then, she looked back at the form, set her hooves on the keyboard, and began to type.
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

If only it had happened at night. Especially if said night had been dark and stormy. That was always how stories like these began, particularly if Shadow Spade was involved. And yet, life lacks the dramatic flair that we so often crave of it--a flair that Radiance was, on most occasions, more than happy to supply. 

But no--this was not a detective story. At least, not one of that sort. Even if it had been, it wasn’t the sort of story that Radiance would have wanted to embellish anyways. And so, she had to relate the events as they had occurred--and they occurred four days ago, at about three twenty-five in the afternoon.

Radiance had been sitting in the big, shared office at the Canterlot PD--in fact, at the very same desk she was sitting at now, writing about the experience. She had been seated with two of the other rookies, with Copperplate on her left, and Peach Fuzz on her right. Radiance was refreshing her memory of the department guidebook, while Copper had a map of Canterlot spread before him, wandering his beat with his eyes, and Fuzz was working on one of her arrest reports. . 

(All three of them were unicorns. In fact, nearly every pony in the department was a unicorn. There was nothing necessarily unusual about that--after all, Canterlot was still populated largely by unicorns--and yet, the significance of this fact did not occur to Radiance until long afterwards.) 

“So,” Copper said, looking up from his map, “got any plans this weekend?”

Radiance turned a page in her book. “Not in particular,” she said. “A trip to the boutique, perhaps…”

Fuzz looked over at her with an eyebrow raised. “What for?” she asked. “You don’t exactly have much of a choice in your wardrobe these days…”

Radiance looked over at her. “Accessories, Darling, accessories!” she cried dramatically. “I do cut quite the figure in this uniform, yes, but I could always add earrings, or a scarf, or...”

Copper snorted. “You and your scarves,” he said, with a fond shake of his head. “What are you doing working here, anyways? Wouldn’t you be happier working at a clothing store or something…?”

Radiance scoffed. “Only for the employee discount,” she said. “Fun, yes--but not as fulfilling as being here with you two.”

Fuzz raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, really,” she said sarcastically. “And you have your cutie mark in policing, do you?”

“I do, actually,” she said. She shifted her weight, drawing attention to her flanks. The mark wasn’t immediately recognizable: three ice-blue hexagons linked together, each bearing a six-pointed star. 





“I’m especially good at making magical shields,” she explained. “Runs in the family, actually. So destiny has decreed that I shall be a protector of those around me. Besides,” she continued, “I’ve led a very privileged life. All of us have, I’m sure,” she added, looking around “I mean, we all grew up in Canterlot, right?” 

Copper raised one hoof. “Manehattan, thank you very much,” he corrected. 

“Yes,” Radiance responded, “but you have the privilege of living and working so close to the Princesses, don’t you?”

Copper opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Radiance cut him off.

“Anyway,” she continued, “We have things pretty good here, all things considered--but not everypony can say that. Thus, I think it’s only fair for us to give generously of our time and our own personal safety to help protect those who can’t protect themselv—”

“You can get yer bloody hooves aff me, ya founderin’ bastards!!”

The three rookies jumped in surprise, then stood and looked up over the divider. The door leading from the office into the hallway outside was set with a large, glass window, partially obscured by a set of wooden blinds. Through the window, Radiance could see a writhing mass of shadows, accompanied by distant shouting. 

And then, for a split-second, the shadows parted. Radiance could barely make out the silhouette of a pony, standing in profile--before a pair of shadow-legs lashed out and struck him in the abdomen, in the soft spot under the ribs. 

The cry of pain rattled the pencils on Radiance’s desk. 

The pony collapsed, and the other shadows pounced, horn-sparks shining through the blinds. Radiance paled. She sat there, frozen, as other officers craned their necks to see what was going on. Then, Radiance set her jaw, stood up from her desk, strode purposely down the length of the office. 

She reached out a hoof for the doorknob, but, before she could open the door, it swung open of its own accord. Radiance looked up, yelped in surprise, and backed up a few steps. 

“May I help you?” said Captain Hard Case, his voice eerily quiet. 

Captain Case was said to be part Earth Pony--and Radiance believed it. He was a little short for a stallion, but every inch of him was thickly muscled. And not the sort of muscles that Radiance saw in all her magazines, but the sort that would make it exactly clear who would win in a fight when it came to blows. 

Radiance, two inches shorter than him, looked up and swallowed nervously. 

“I… I thought I saw…” she said. 

Captain Case shook his head decisively. 

“Nothing to see here, Rookie,” he said. “Suspect tried to take a swing, had to be taught a lesson. That’s all.”

Radiance gulped, and tried not to notice the small splatter of blood on the wall behind the Captain.


* * *


Copper shoved a doughnut in his mouth. “Yeah,” he said, spraying crumbs everywhere,  “but what are you going to do about it?”

Radiance had grown up coming to Doughnut Joe’s with Father and her siblings. In fact, it was here that she’d first spotted a policemare in her uniform, which sparked a burning light in her heart. Even so, she rarely indulged in Doughnut Joe’s signature product; she usually preferred a slimming bran muffin to a sugar glazed with sprinkles. After all, she’d worked hard for this physique, and she wasn’t about to let it go for just a little sugar. 

That was under normal circumstances. Today, she was halfway through a six-pack of chocolate crullers. 

“Yeah, I know,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “I know he’s the Captain, and I’m just a rookie.”

“And you didn’t actually see what happened,” Fuzz added. 

“I know, I know,” repeated Radiance. “But still--there was no call for that sort of treatment…”

Fuzz shook her head. “We don’t know that, though,” he said. “All we saw was the tail end of it. If he really was gettin’ rowdy, then maybe there was a reason. After all,” she added, taking a sip of coffee, “he was an earth pony. And you know those guys can hit hard.”

Radiance stopped, another bite of cruller halfway to her mouth, and stared. “Earth pony?” she repeated. “Who told you he was an earth pony?” 

“No one,” Fuzz said, suddenly uncertain. “I just checked the lockup rolls.The only ponies in there before he showed were a couple drunks from last night, so he’s easy to pick out of a crowd.”

“They have him in lockup?” Radiance asked. 

Copper nodded. “Disorderly conduct and resisting arrest,” he said. “Not exactly the sort of criminal you want wandering the station…” 

Radiance and Fuzz both turned to look at him questioningly. 

“What?” he asked, with a frown. 

“Disorderly conduct and resisting arrest,” Radiance repeated, narrowing her eyes. “How do you know what he’s being charged with?”

Copper shrugged. “I looked at his file.” 

Radiance’s eyes widened. 

“What?” Copper asked again. “My Coach helped me find them.” 

Coach. The proper term was Field Training Officer, and it was their job to help each rookie to get acclimated to life as a real-deal police officer. But, if the coaches were teaching their rookies bad habits right off the bat...  

“I could show you where they are,” Copperplate continued, interrupting her reverie. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

Radiance glared at him. “Copperplate,” she said icily, “those records are confidential. Only those with a pressing need for that information should read them. That’s the law.”

“That’s what I said,” Copper replied, gesturing for emphasis. “But Coach says that there are rules, and there are rules.” He turned back to his doughnut. “If nopony’s getting hurt,” he said, “there’s no reason to not to bend the rules a little. Or--at least, that’s what he told me,” he added sheepishly.

“But,” Fuzz said weakly, “it’s the law.” 

Copper frowned. “Yeah,” he admitted, “but now we know. I mean, what are you gonna say if your Coach sends you to do a patrol in the lockup? You’d wanna know if there was a violent earth pony down there, wouldn’t you?”

Copper took a dramatic swig of his coffee, signaling that, as fascinating as the topic was, he, for one, would prefer to change the subject away from his potential indiscretions. Fuzz watched him uncertainly for a moment, then turned back to her own doughnut. Radiance, for her part, looked down at what remained of her cruller, and realized she was no longer hungry.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Radiance pushed open the front door of her apartment, then plodded heavily into the middle of her living room. 

“Hey, Big Arr,” came Curly’s almost-gratingly chipper voice, “How was your day?”

In answer, Radiance stood up on her hind legs, pressed the back of a hoof to her forehead, spun elegantly on one leg, then fell dramatically backwards onto her sofa. 

“That bad, huh?” Curly replied.

Radiance opened one eye. Curling Iron, a short, slightly chubby, purple unicorn sat in an armchair against the opposite wall. Her mane-styling magazine (“101 Do’s To Die For!”) lay open on her lap.

Radiance closed her eye again, groaned dramatically, then nodded. 

Before Curly could reply, another voice cut in.

“Are you going to just lie there and moan and groan until we ask you what’s going on?” the voice asked with a sardonic edge, “Or shall we save us all a little time and cut straight to the exposition?”

“He-e-ey,” Curly said, “Be nice, Penny! You wouldn’t want her to be mean if you had a bad day, would you?”

“I wasn’t being mean,” Pen replied. “I was just pointing out she could very well skip the dramatics. And let me assure you,” she added, “when I have a bad day, I won’t bring it home: I’ll leave it at the Fat Cat, where I will be drowning my sorrows in entirely too many Moss-Cow Mules.”

“That’s a drink, right?” Curly asked doubtfully.

Pen paused before responding. 

“Actually?” she said thoughtfully, “I haven’t decided yet.”

Curly gave a little snort of laughter, and even Radiance smiled 

Radiance knew Pen’s voice without having to open her eyes. Penny Pincher, “Pen” to everyone but Curly, had a grey coat, and wore her mane straight and long. She was probably sitting at the kitchen table, almost certainly double-checking something she’d brought home with her from work. 

“You have no idea,” Radiance said loudly, interrupting the conversation, “what I’ve had to go through today.” She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “And this sofa isn’t helping matters…”

“I keep on telling you,” Pen called  from where she sat at the kitchen table, “That couch is probably older than you are. Fine for sitting, bad for fainting.”

Radiance stuck her tongue out at Pen, but she had already returned to her work.. 

The three of them--Radiance, Pen, and Curly--lived together in a cramped little apartment somewhere downtown. Radiance’s family lived close enough to the station where she might have been able to walk to work each day, but she had made it a point of pride to start supporting herself as soon as she could. It wouldn’t do to have a policemare living in her parent’s basement, after all. And yet, despite the nobility of her intentions, one simply could not support a completely independent lifestyle on the salary of a mere rookie. 

Enter Curly. She was also trying to scrape together the finances for an apartment in Canterlot, working as a manestylist, of all things. When she spotted Radiance sitting in a coffeeshop leafing through the wanted ads, she pranced over and introduced herself with her typical fearless enthusiasm. It was only after Radiance had said yes that Curly thought to mention Pen, a second-year accountant who had already paid her third of the security deposit. The apartment itself turned out to be a little small, and the appliances needed an update, but the company made up for it all. The emotional whiplash of having to deal with both Curly’s energy and Pen’s dry, sarcastic wit was often rather taxing, but Pen gave wonderful advice, and Curly was an excellent listener. To say nothing of the location, which was to die for…!

“So…” Curly began uncertainly. “Did you want to talk about work today, or…?”

Radiance bit her lip, but, before she could speak, Pen interrupted. 

“Of course she does,” Penny snapped. “She only faints when she wants someone to listen.”

Radiance very nearly shot back a snarky response, but then, the memories of what she had seen came flooding back. Her stomach began to sink, and her mouth went dry. Slowly, she sat up. 

“Do you really want to hear about it?” she asked. “It’s… it’s serious.” 

Curly sat up straighter, her magazine falling off her lap. Pen looked up from her work, took off her glasses, and set them down. “ ‘Course we do,” Curly said for both of them. “Talk away.” 

Radiance flashed a little smile of thanks, but it quickly faded. 

“Something… something happened at work today,” she began. 

“What sort of something?” Curly asked. 

Radiance shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted. “I thought I knew, but I didn’t get a good look…”

Pen wrinkled her nose in slight irritation. “So,” she asked, “what do you think happened?”

Radiance looked up at her, then back down. “I think…” she began uncertainty. “I think that I saw someone getting beaten at the Station.”

Curly gasped and covered her mouth with her hooves.

“So?” Pen asked. “Happens all the time, doesn’t it? When someone won’t behave, I mean?”

Radiance shook her head. “Not like this,” she said solemnly. “It looked like they were trying to hurt him. Like, actually hurt him.”

Curly gasped again, and even Pen’s eyes grew a little wider. “That… could be a problem,” she admitted.

Radiance nodded in miserable agreement. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she continued. “I feel like I need to do something, but I don’t have a clue of where to start…”

“You should!” squeaked Curly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I were you…”

Pen leaned forward. “What’s the Department’s policy?” he asked. 

Radiance waved her hoof dismissively. “Probably a form for it, or something. I don’t know off the top of my head.”

“Well,” Curly interrupted, “go get one! That’s the place to start—”

Radiance let out a sigh of annoyance. “You’d think so,” she said, “but I get the feeling that’s not how things actually work…”

Curly and Pen glanced at each other.

“What do you mean?” Curly asked carefully. “Are you saying that the Canterlot PD is, what—” she gestured vaguely “--on the take?” 

“No no no,” Radiance said irritably, waving her off. “I just… get the feeling that ponies don’t always follow the rules like they’re supposed to. And that forms don’t always make it to whom they’re intended for...”

“So…” Pen said, “what are you going to do, then? You have to do something, don’t you?”

Radiance slumped into her seat. “I think I do. But Tartarus if I know what…”

Pen made a small Hmm sound and looked down at her lap. Curly bit her lip, then glanced around the room. Her eye fell on one of Radiance’s discarded fashion magazines, and her entire face lit up. 

“I know what we should do,” she said. “We should go down to the Tasty Treat, just the two of us, and get some nice takeout. That always makes you feel better.” Her smile widened. “And, maybe on the way back, we could stop by that horseshoe emporium you like so much…?”

Despite herself, Radiance started to smile. 

Pen put her pencil down with a snap. “Hey, don’t leave me out of it.” she said, standing up. “I love a good curry as much as the next mare--and I owe you for those leftovers the other week—”

“Yes, you do,” Curly said, her eyes narrowing. “I was saving those for lunch! What else was I gonna eat?”

“Your own groceries?” Pen asked, as she put her mane up into a ponytail. “Bought with your own money?”

“I told you,” Curly replied, “I’m too tired to go food shopping after being on my hooves all day!” 

“Maybe it would help if you didn’t sleep in so much!”

“Well, maybe it would help if you didn’t steal my lunch so often—!”

Despite herself, Radiance started to smile. It was kind of comforting to hear the two of them bickering, in its own peculiar way. And a good dinner and some shoe shopping promised to help her feel even better. At the bottom of her gut, and at the back of her brain, what she had seen at the Department lurked like a shadow--but that was a problem that could wait for tomorrow. 

Hopefully. 
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Radiance walked down the line of cells in the station lockup, whistling nervously to herself. She had never really gotten the hang of the wooden batons the department used--she preferred to use her hooves, herself--and yet, she carried one in her magic, rattling it along the bars of one of the empty cells. The rhythmic thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk made it clear to everyone in earshot that she was armed, and, more to the point, ready to put some punks in their place should the occasion call for it. 

Which was good, because she sure didn’t feel ready. 

Crown Vick, her Training Officer, had scheduled a shift for her in the lockup--the temporary prison where suspects were held until they could be transferred to a more secure location. Usually, the only ponies in here were a few drunks that were still sobering up, but not today. Today, that earth stallion was in here somewhere. True, he’d been beaten down hard, but, by all accounts, he had been the first one to start swinging. And now, after being thrown in jail, he had even more reason to be angry. 

As Radiance thunk-thunked her way down the corridor, she found her mind drifting back to her self-defense training. Earth ponies, their instructor had said, were especially dangerous in close quarters. They didn’t have the agility of pegasi or the magic of unicorns, but their bulk more than made up for it. More than one unicorn had gotten one of their legs broken--or worse--when an earth pony suspect did something desperate. And, if they actually knew how to use their strength… well, Radiance just had to hope she could get off one of her shield spells in time.

Suddenly, a voice broke through Radiance’s reverie.

“Can ye no’ keep it doon a bit, arsewipe?” said a rough voice from her right. “Yous gave me enough o' a headache already...” 

Radiance whirled to look at the speaker, then yelped in surprise. She dropped her baton, and it clattered to the floor. 

She’d found the stallion.

“Sweet Celestia,” she cried, “what did they do to you?”

He was a big, red earth pony, lying on his side on the bare concrete floor. He was covered in bruises, and his muzzle was caked with dried blood. His coat was singed and burned in a dozen spots, blisters and burn scars visible on the skin. Both his fore- and hind legs had been cuffed together, and another chain ran between them and through a ring set in the floor. 

“I could tell yous,” he growled, “but yer bluebottle pals out there’d be able tae tell ye better.”

Radiance lit her horn and lifted up the keyring that hung from her hip. She fumbled with the keys, found the one she was looking for, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. 

The stallion raised his head. One of his eyes had swollen shut. He narrowed the other in suspicion. 

“No’ a good idea tae keep the door unlocked wi’ a dangerous criminal like me aboot, is it?” he hissed. 

Radiance frowned, then pulled the door shut behind her. She used her magic to lock the door, then toss the keys a dozen feet down the corridor. 

“Fair play, aye,” he muttered darkly, lying his head down again. “Unicorns, wi’ yer founderin’ magic.”

Radiance stepped closer to him and examined his chains.

“How long have you been in here?” she asked. 

“Two, three days,” he muttered. 

“And they haven’t uncuffed you?”

“Ach, naw,” he said sarcastically. “No’ a great big founderin’ murderer like me.”  

Radiance lit her horn, then drew a small key from her belt. “Regulations say that prisoners shouldn’t be restrained for more than two hours at a time,” she said, as she unlocked his cuffs one by one. 

“Aye. Regulations,” he replied sarcastically. “But I reckon yous have already seen how much those mean ‘round here.”

Radiance pulled off the cuffs, and they came away damp with sweat. The fur under the cuffs was worn thin, with the skin, red and raw, visible in places. 

When Radiance finally unlocked the last of the cuffs, and it fell to the floor with a clang. The stallion looked down at his hooves in slight surprise, then rolled onto his stomach. As he did, something peculiar happened: the light from the lamp in the corridor caught his coat, and it shimmered and glittered like starlight. Radiance’s eyes widened, and she took a step backwards. 

“You’re a Crystal pony,” she gasped. 

“Aye,” he muttered darkly, as he rubbed at his cuff marks. “What clued ye in? Ma mailin’ address?”

She shook her head slowly. “There aren’t supposed to be any more of you,” she said in wonder. “You were all supposed to have disappeared…”

“Aye, I know the legends,” he interrupted. “Great Empire o’ us, up in the mountains somewhere, cursed by an evil king tae serve him forever.” He looked away. “Load of keech, if ye ask me. Jist a bunch of bampots, tryin’ tae make theirselves feel better aboot the world goin’ all tae shite.”

Radiance reached in her pocket and pulled out one of her handkerchiefs, a white one edged with lace. Without a second thought, she spat into it, then levitated it towards the prisoner. He jerked back in surprise, but she shot him a look. 

“I’m trying to help,” she said, her voice carefully level.

“Aye. Course y’ are,” he grumbled. “Gotta do somethin’ so as ye kin sleep of a night.”

And yet, he did not pull away as she began to wipe the blood from his snout. She worked for a moment in silence, then looked up.

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

He looked up at her, then looked away. 

“Kingfisher,” he said, a little reluctantly.

She frowned slightly. “So you like birds, then?” 

He shook his head, making Radiance pull the handkerchief away. “Naw,” he said. “Me Ma n’ Da were fisherponies.”

Radiance gave an involuntary shiver. “Fisherponies?” she repeated, trying to keep the disgust out of her voice. 

“Aye,” he said. “Pull ‘em out o’ the river, salt ‘em, sell ‘em to the griffons… wasnae bad money, in the end.” He shot a sidelong glance at Radiance. “But I ken what ye mean. Ach, Never got used tae ‘em, ma self.” He gave a little shudder of disgust. “Slimy wee buggers…”

Radiance nodded, then stuffed her handkerchief back in her pocket. “Alright, stay still,” she said, lighting her horn, “I’m gonna check you for injuries.”

“Ye’ll no’ have to look too hard,” he muttered darkly.

Radiance ignored him. Instead, she used her magic to gently prod at his jaw. When that seemed solid, she started searching down his neck. 

“If you’re not a fisherpony,” she asked, “then what do you do?”

“Ye dinnae wanna know,” he replied immediately.

“Why not?” she asked. 

“Ye’ll think I’m a dafty.” 

“No I won’t,” she insisted, wondering briefly what in Celestia’s name a Dafty was. 

Kingfisher shot her a despairing look, then took a deep breath and let it out.

“I make jewelry,” he admitted. 

Radiance’s eyebrows shot up. She cleared her throat, then tried to shake the sudden dreams of diamond earrings and sapphire bracelets from her mind. 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she said, her voice very nearly level.

Kingfisher laughed bitterly. “That’s easy for ye tae say,” he said. “Da wanted me tae take over the fishery after him. But I had big dreams. I wanted tae see the world, like. So’s I borrowed some tools from Auld Chrysolite, and set off.”

“Are your pieces any good?” Radiance asked, the visions of custom-made emeralds still dragging at her soul.

Kingfisher scoffed. “It‘s all shite,” he said. “Auld Chrissie taught us the basics, but I’ve had tae pick the rest up on the road. A mare o’ real quality wouldnae come near my stuff, but it’s good eno’ to fool a colt wi’ stars in his eyes an’ a filly in his heart.” 
 
Radiance stared at him. “Chrysolite didn’t even let you practice?” she asked incredulously. 

Kingfisher shook his head. “That wasnae it,” he said. “I didnae want tae wait. I wanted to get oot o’ town fast as I could, afore I let Ma convince me tae stay.” He looked down and sighed heavily. “Look where that got me,” he added gloomily.

Radiance waited for him to continue, but he stayed quiet. She sighed, then picked up his foreleg. Her eyes widened fractionally: his leg was solid with muscle, and nearly as long, if not longer, than Shiny’s. Radiance had met only a few ponies that could hold a candle to her brother’s height--but Kingfisher might almost have him beat, as far as she could tell.

Radiance lit her horn again, then began to examine the leg, looking for breaks. Kingfisher watched her for a moment, then looked away. 

“Ach. Sorry,” he said. “Fer bein’ so rude. No need fer bein’ rude tae a bonnie lass like yerself.”

Radiance shook her head. “Quite alright,” she said. “It hasn’t been your day, after all.” She paused, then snorted. “Hasn’t been your day for the past several days, by all accounts.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Aye,” he said. “I lead a charmed life. Me, an’ the rest o’ ma clan.”

Radiance raised an eyebrow. “Crystal ponies live in clans, then?”

He shook his head. “Just a phrase,” he admitted. “We have the odd village here an’ there. I never met mair’n mibbies a couple o’ hundred o’ us.” 

“And… life is hard up in the mountains for you?”

Kingfisher snorted, then winced. “Lassie,” he said gravely, “life up in the mountains is a founderin’ spring day compared tae what goes on doon here.”

She frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

He scowled. “What do ye mean, ‘what do ye mean?’” he snapped. “I’m nae lyin’ here fer the good of ma health.”

Radiance snorted irritably. “I’m trying to help you, Kingfisher,” she said. “But I can’t help you if you won’t help me. What’s going on that’s so horrible?”

He rolled his eyes and muttered something darkly under his breath. 

“Kingfisher,” Radiance said sternly. 

“Aw, wheesht, ye big bairn,” he shot back. 

“That’s it,” Radiance said. She dropped his hooves, stood, and picked up the cuffs from where they lay. Then, she walked to the door, lit her horn, and dragged the ring of keys towards her—

“D’ye have any idea what it’s like,” Kingfisher said suddenly, “tae walk intae a new toon, an’ have ev’rypony already hatin’ ye?” 

Radiance froze. 

"Oh aye," he continued. "I'm a big ol’ stallion, right? An' maist o' the lassies go clutchin' their purses soon as they peep me walkin' doon the street.” He sighed. “It's no got nothin' tae do wi' the colour of ma coat,” he said. “Mibbies they're thinkin' a big galoot like me is gonna do somethin' glaikit, make to tak' ‘em right there in broad daylight, like some massive dunderheid."

Slowly, Radiance turned around. Kingfisher was looking down at the floor. 

“But when they get tae take a good look at me, it’s worse,” he continued. “All the stupid questions—” He raised his head an inch or two, a sarcastic sneer on his face. “Ach, mister, kin I tooch yer coat? Kin I rub yer mane? Are ye made o’ crystal? What kinda rocks d’ye eat? Aye, lassie,” he growled, “I eat gravel and shit sunshine. What d’ye expect?” He sighed heavily. “I’m jist a pony, like yourself. I’m no’ some animal in the founderin’ zoo for yous to poke an’ prod at…”

Radiance bit her lip, then walked over and stood in front of him. After a moment, she laid back down on the concrete, and picked up one of his forelegs again--her movements a little kinder, a little gentler, than they had been a moment before.

“What brought you to Canterlot, then?” she asked quietly, examining his leg. 

Kingfisher sighed. “I was runnin’ oot o’ raw gems,” he said unhappily, “and I heard yous had lots of gem mines in Cannerlot. Mebbie, I thought tae myself, the gems might be a little cheaper. And bein’ up in the mountains might mak’ it feel a little more like home. And, mebbie…” He blushed a little, and looked away. 

“...and maybe,” Radiance finished, “you might find another Crystal pony.” She swallowed. “You were getting homesick.”

“A little,” Kingfisher admitted. “More like, I was gettin’ tired o' wanderin' aboot. Always running away from a town what threatened ta’ run ye out with a rail wears ye oot. Thought to ma self that Cannerlot, with all those gems, might have some jewelers. And if there's some jewelers, then mibbies one or two might be Crystal, like me." He sighed again. "Be nice tae see a friendly face, after all this time."

Radiance nodded slowly. “Given that you’re sitting here, I’m guessing things didn’t work out that way.”

Kingfisher’s face darkened. “Aye,” he said darkly. “Yous could say that.”

Radiance grimaced. “What exactly happened?” she asked. 

Kingfisher clenched his jaw. Radiance glanced down at his foreleg--it was trembling with barely suppressed rage. 

“Founderin’ eejits,” he growled. “Bunch o’ radgers, the lot o’ em—”

“From the beginning, Kingfisher,” Radiance interrupted. 

Kingfisher swallowed two or three times. Slowly, the trembling began to subside.

“Took me half-a-day tae find the jewel market,” he began. “Cannerlot streets dinnae make any sense.”

Radiance nearly spoke up, but bit the inside of her cheek.

“When I finally found the founderin’ place, there were too many ponies wanderin’ aboot tae even see the shops,” he grumbled. “I had tae push through right to the front tae even get a look at ‘em.” He leaned forward. “And d’ya know what they had?”

Radiance slowly shook her head. 

“Daft wankers had Shadow Stones!” he hissed, pounding the floor with his free hoof. “Right there in the windae! For the whole founderin’ street tae see!”

Radiance looked timidly up at him. Slowly, the rage in his eyes began to fade, giving way to confusion and uncertainty. 

“Shadow Stones?” he repeated, cocking his head to one side. “Great big ones?”

Radiance stared back at him, her brow slowly furrowing. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she said. “But, uh… what do you mean by shadow stones?” 

“Shadow Stones,” he repeated again, enunciating the capitals. "All o' the evil in the world is wrapped up in 'em. Just one can poison the land, and call doon the Kelpies, or th' Fatetwister, or the Nucklavee, or worse!” He shivered. “Yer meant tae drown 'em--toss ‘em in runnin' water, where they's no' gonna be able tae hurt anypony. Ye don't polish 'em up and put 'em in the founderin’ windae!"

Radiance eyed him carefully, as he fought to bring his boiling rage under control again. 

“You were in the diamond district,” she said slowly, “and you saw black stones polished up and put on display.” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “Were they set in necklaces and bracelets? Things like that?”

“Aye,” he said cautiously. 

“Oh!” she chirped. “Onyx. It’s quite a fashionable stone, really. And I don’t think it does…” she waved dismissively “...all that...”

He snorted. “Yer bum’s oot the windae,” he said disdainfully.

She shot him a look. His ears drooped, and he bit his lip and thought for a moment. 

“You’re… talking… nonsense,” he finally enunciated. “Aye. ‘Course they still do all that.” 

“And how do you know that?” she shot back.

“How d’ye know that breaking a mirror is bad luck?” he responded irritably. "Everyone knows it, up in the mountains. More than that, I seen it, too. With ma own eyes,” he added. “Shadow Stones bloomin’ oot o’ the ground, everywhere, all over the haugh. Ye throw 'em in the river, an’ they don’t come back--not for a bit, anyway.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Ma cousin hid one in his room, once. Eejit wanted tae experiment, see fer himself if the stories were true—” he shook his head. “Went daft oot of his heid afore the fortnight was up.”

For just a moment, his gaze turned inward--and Radiance took the opportunity. 

“Well, I’ve never heard of that happening out here,” she said definitively.

“Don’t mean it doesnae happen,” grumbled Kingfisher. 

“Maybe the stones you saw were a different type of crystal,” Radiance persisted. “Or maybe they check them for curses before putting them on sale. Either way,” she said, with a faint smile, “I think someone would have noticed if they were driving ponies crazy.”

Kingfisher looked up at her, his gaze still skeptical.

“Mibbes aye, mibbes naw,” he admitted. “But it doesnae change th’ fact that they scared th’ shite out o’ me, seein’ ‘em like that...”

Radiance nodded, then picked up one of his hooves and examined the marks left by the cuffs. 

“So,” she said, “you saw some onyx—”

“Shadow Stones,” he interrupted. 

“Shadow stones,” she corrected herself. “How did that end up with you in here?”

Kingfisher shot her a crooked grin. "Ye ken how I said lassies tend tae get a wee bit feart round a stallion big as me?"

She nodded. “Yes,” she said, as she turned his hoof over.

“Well,” he said, "Jist think on what happens tae the lassies when I start tae get feart, after a shock like that ‘n’ all.” 

She looked up at him. “Out in the market?” she asked. “I don’t expect much. A couple years ago, Father got heatstroke when we were out shopping one day, and every pony on the block came to make sure he was okay.” 

Kingfisher snorted."Aye. But he was a unicorn, right? Like ye are? No' a big earth stallion that could snap a unicorn intae two like a twig if he wanted, like. An' I'm guessin' he wasnae gettin' all feart, not with all o' the stuck-up lassies and their precious gems aboot? Not tae mention, I reckon he talks all posh and proper like the rest of yous." He shook his head, then sighed. "It's a sair fecht. All those ponies peeped the size o' me, and ye can guess the rest. Afore I know it, some het up wanker's shoutin' fae the police. The bobbies, they took one look at me, an' decided they didnae want none of what was comin'... an' that's when they went and zapped me.”

Radiance nearly dropped his hoof. 

“They stunned you?” she cried. “Right away? Without trying to talk you down?”

He snorted again. “Ye sound surprised,” he said. 

“But--that’s against regulations.”

Kingfisher chuckled darkly. "Aye?” he said. “That would explain why I'm here walkin' free, nae blood an' nae scritches on ma coat, an' wi' every couthy Bobby in Cannerlot by ma side." 

Radiance bit her lip. “We’re not all like that,” she said, half to herself. 

Kingfisher stared at her in surprise--but then, his expression darkened. 

"Oh, aye,” he said disdainfully, “that’s what ye say. But I tell ye, this isnae the first time some bobby told me that from the outside of a jail cell. Ye see, there’s eno' o' yous who are ‘like that’ tae make life pretty shite fer ponies like me. Yous can insist it's nae like that, that's nae how it works, that yous are nae all like that, but lemme tell ye--that doesnae help me right now." He laid his head on his forelegs and snorted. "Go boil yer heid," he muttered darkly. "Talkin’ tae bobbies who spend their time lookin’ the other way always gets me knackered."

Radiance watched him for a moment, then stood. She talked back towards the cell door, using her magic to pick up the ring of keys that lay just outside the cell.  

“I’ll try to send someone by with a first-aid kit,” she said over her shoulder.  

"Will ye, aye," he muttered disdainfully. "Gi' us a blanket and a pillow, an' all. Unless all o'yer haverin' about how 'decent' ye truly are wasnae just a load of shite."
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Officer Radiance?”

Radiance looked up from the report she was reading, and practically jumped out of her uniform. 

“C-Commissioner Brass!” she squeaked. 

Police Commissioner Top Brass stood beside her. He was a tall stallion, with a golden-brown coat and a graying moustache. His uniform was slightly old-fashioned, made with a pleasingly retro cut, the creases were ironed and the collar starched with the sort of precision that befitted the top cop in Canterlot. 

Seeing Radiance’s surprise, he smiled and gave a small bow. 

“In the flesh,” he said, in response to her cry.

Radiance scrambled off the bench and onto her hooves, haphazardly slapping her policemare’s cap in place as she did so. “To w-what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, as she nervously brushed down the front of her uniform. 

“Please,” he said, “it’s nothing to worry about. I would just like a few words with you in my office.” He shot a glance at her desk. “Unless you’re busy...?” 

Her eyes widened. “N-no, n-n-not at all!” she cried, lighting her horn and pushing her paperwork away for effect. “I can come right now!”

Commissioner Brass smiled and nodded. “Excellent,” he said. “This way, if you please.”

He turned and strode towards the glass-walled office at one end of the room. Radiance jogged quickly after him, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly. 

The Commissioner held the door of his office open for her like a true gentlecolt. She crept inside, then looked around, unsure what to do with herself. 

“Sit, please,” Brass said as he closed the door behind them. 

Radiance practically ran to one of the chairs in front of the Commissioner's massive desk, then sat down hard enough to make the chair give a little squeak of indignation. She looked around: the entire place was paneled with a beautiful, dark wood, with the carpet a dignified navy blue. Two of the walls were made entirely of tall windows, with wooden blinds for privacy. 

“Coffee?” the Commissioner asked, pouring himself a cup from the fancy machine on the side table. 

Radiance shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied. “I had a cup of tea just a moment ago.”

The Commissioner nodded as he added his sugars. “Ah,” he said, “a tea mare. Well, to each their own…”

He walked slowly over to the majestic chair opposite Radiance, then sat. He took a sip from his mug, and sighed contentedly. Radiance watched him in silence, a single drop of sweat running down the back of her neck. 

“If I may, Sir?” she said quietly.

He looked up, then waved at her to continue. 

She swallowed, then spoke again. “May I ask why you’ve called me in, Sir?” she said. “This is a little unusual, after all…” she giggled nervously. “You, the Commissioner, meeting with a rookie like myself, I mean.” 

He took another sip from his mug. “That’s what I like about you, Officer Radiance,” he said, “always taking the initiative.”

He set the mug down, then leaned forward. “I’ve been speaking to your Training Officer,” he said. “Officer Victoria has been very impressed with your work so far--as have I,” he added. 

Radiance felt herself blush the slightest bit. 

“But she has expressed some concern,” he continued. “It seems the last couple days you’ve been somewhat… preoccupied.” He pressed his hooves together on the desk, then leaned forward another inch or two. “Could you please tell me,” he said carefully, “what it was that you saw the other day?”

Radiance shrank back in her chair. The Commissioner was being exceptionally gentle and respectful, and yet, it suddenly felt as if she was tied to a chair in a darkened room, a lamp shining in her eyes.

“W-well,” she admitted, “I’m not entirely sure what I saw…”

“That’s fine,” the Commissioner said. “Just tell me what you think you saw.”

“I-I--well—” She shut her eyes, then swallowed. This was the Commissioner. What was she going to say? Just tell him that one of his best Captains beat up a random suspect? Maybe it would be better to lie, just hope that he’d let it go…

But then, she thought of her father had always taught her--tell the truth, and you have nothing to be afraid of—

And suddenly, Radiance sat up a little straighter. She squared her shoulders. She took a deep breath, then began to speak. 

“It was two days ago,” she said. “Out in the hall, outside the big office space. A group of officers were escorting a crystal pony stallion by the name of Kingfisher.”

The Commissioner nodded. “Was the prisoner restrained?” 

Radiance shook her head. “I believe so,” she said. “I spoke to him, and he said he’d been restrained since he was first picked up.”

The Commissioner raised an eyebrow. “You spoke to him?” he repeated. 

“Yes, Sir,” Radiance responded. “Additionally, it appeared that he had been mistreated by one or more of the arresting officers.”

“In what way?” 

“When I found him, he was still cuffed and chained to the floor. He claimed that he had been that way since he had first been brought in, approximately forty-eight hours prior.” She took a deep breath. “Restraining a compliant prisoner for that long is a violation of Department policy, and may border on a violation of Equestrian law.”

The Commissioner nodded slowly. “So the prisoner was apparently restrained,” he said. “Troubling in itself, but not necessarily a cause for this much distress.”

Radiance frowned. 

“Excuse me, Sir,” she began, “But I feel it is certainly—”

“Is there anything else you would like to address?” the Commissioner interrupted. 

Radiance’s frown deepened. “Yes, Sir,” she said, the faintest hint of steel in her voice. “Kingfisher had suffered a number of injuries before he was incarcerated. Injuries, I might add, consistent with the overuse of standard police stunning spells, among others.”

The Commissioner frowned. “But a stunning spell doesn’t injure,” he said. 

“Correct, Sir,” Radiance answered. “But I witnessed a number of officers fire such spells at him.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Stunning spells are standard procedure in the case of a noncompliant prisoner,” he said. 

“Yes, Sir,” she responded. “But only one, two at the maximum. I counted at least a dozen before I lost track.” She swallowed. “That would be enough to bring down an elephant.”

The Commissioner looked down at his desk and thought for a moment. 

“These are very serious concerns,” he said slowly.  

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you willing to stake your career on them?”

Radiance frowned. “Sir?”

He held up one hoof. “Please don’t misunderstand,” he said. “I’m just saying, these accusations are deeply concerning--especially given how little concrete evidence you have to back them up.”

Radiance’s throat went dry. 

“If you choose to go through with reporting these incidents,” he said, “I fear that few of your colleagues will see your intentions as good and noble as you think they are. Being well-liked is not a prerequisite to being a good police officer, but having a reputation could very much hamper your ability to work with others.” He paused. “To say nothing of… well…”

The Commissioner looked at her, waiting for her to ask him what he was referring to. Ordinarily, she’d be happy to oblige--but the office had suddenly grown unaccountably hot and stuffy, so much so she wasn’t sure she could speak…

He watched her expectantly for a few moments, then let out a sigh. He heaved himself up from the desk, then walked to one of the windows that lined the walls of his office. He pulled on one of the cords on the blinds, rotating the slats to let in a little more light.

“Officer Radiance,” he said, “I have something I’d like you to see.”

Radiance bit her lip, then slowly slid off the chair and dropped onto the floor. She slowly walked across the floor, then peered through the blinds. Outside, she saw the big shared office again. A few of them were working on paperwork, a few were poring through books, binders, and photographs, and a couple were still chatting by the coffee machine. 

Radiance watched the officers for a moment, then glanced up at the Commissioner. “Pardon me, Sir,” she said carefully, “what is it you would like me to see?”

He took a long sip from his coffee, then nodded through the window. “Do you see Officer Chips over there?”

Radiance squinted. On the other side of the room was a brown-coated unicorn stallion, an image of a chocolate-chip cookie on his flank. 

“I do,” she replied. 

“Do you know he’s the father of four?” the Commissioner asked. “A colt, a filly, and newborn twins. On the other hoof—” he gestured again, indicating a stallion with a golden coat. “Officer Leo, over there. His marefriend is due any day now. He has a little heart attack anytime someone comes through that door, half-afraid he’s going to hear that she’s gone into labor while he’s stuck at the office.” 

The Commissioner swung the mug a little wider. “Her mother is in poor health… He’s trying to set a good example for his little brother… She’s the first one in her family to leave the farm... His paycheck is paying for his grandfather’s treatments...”

Radiance shot a sideways glance at the Commissioner. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you telling me this?”

“No reason,” he said casually. “Just, I feel like sometimes you rookies get stars in your eyes when you wander around this place--all the uniforms, commendations, and so on. I think it’s important to remember that there are actual ponies in those uniforms.”

He took another sip from his coffee.

“I wonder,” he added, in an airy, speculative tone, “what might happen if something were to go wrong around here…”

Radiance looked up in alarm. “Sir?”

The Commissioner gestured again. “All of these ponies--every one of them has someone depending on them. Someone who worries about them while they’re gone. Who can’t wait for them to get home, safe and sound, at the end of the shift. You see, Officer Radiance,” he said, turning to her, “this job is dangerous. Even here in Canterlot. The populace depends on us to keep them safe, but, for every single pony in that office, it’s more personal than that. They’re out to protect a pony whose face they see when some tweaker off his meds comes at them with a knife.” He turned and walked back to his desk. “In those circumstances,” he said, “certain… allowances need to be made.”

Radiance watched him sit, a deep pit growing in her stomach. “I don’t follow,” she said. 

The Commissioner gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing. He sighed, then rubbed at his eyes. 

“Let’s say an officer steps over the line,” he said. “Theoretically, of course. Perhaps they get scared, and shoot off the wrong spell. Or, perhaps, they’re afraid that the violent offender they’ve just picked up off the street might take a swing at them. A hundred different things, every day.” He put his hooves together on the desk. “What does the rulebook say to do in those cases?”

Radiance swallowed. “Assuming something happened,” she said carefully, “the department should open an investigation. Ensure that the officer, or officers, were acting within their authority.” 

“Absolutely correct,” the Commissioner said approvingly. “And yet, that answer doesn’t take into account certain practicalities of the situation.”

Radiance’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. 

“You see,” the Commissioner continued, “All anyone wants in this job is to get home at the end of the night. If they don’t, it will destroy the lives of everyone they love. So, if they happen to make a mistake, out of fear for all those they love, can you blame them? Really?” He stood, walked leisurely back to his coffeemaker, and refilled his cup. “Of course, we prefer when they go by the book, but so much can happen in the heat of the moment. Besides,” he added. “If I opened an investigation every time the regulations said I should, I wouldn’t have time to get anything else done.”

Radiance stared at him, barely believing her ears, as he topped off his mug with a sprinkle of sugar.  As he set the sugar back down, he hesitated, then sighed. 

“Listen,” he said. “You probably think I’m a monster right now, telling you to ignore the rulebook every now and then.” 

Radiance did not reply. The Commissioner appeared to take her silence as an answer all its own, and chuckled darkly. 

“Let me assure you,” he continued, “I take my job very seriously. And, in the case of serious problems, I do everything in my power to take care of it. Corruption, bribery, drugs--you name it, I’ve seen it, and went through the proper channels to make sure the officers in question were properly taken care of. However—” 

The Commissioner's expression hardened. Radiance felt a sudden need to crack her collar--when had the office gotten so damn hot? 

“However,” he repeated, “this job is a dangerous one. One that, all too often, requires quick thinking and quicker action. When I send you out on patrol, I expect you to watch your partner’s back, and for them to watch yours. Without mutual trust and respect between officers, I can’t trust them to be safe out there.” His frown deepened. “That’s how you end up with dead cops.”

Radiance started to tremble.

“As I’m sure you recall,” the Commissioner continued, “You are still a rookie. You’re not officially an officer until you get promoted at the end of your first year. We use this time to judge if you are a good fit for our department before we hire you full time.” He straightened up, looking down his nose at Radiance. “Let me speak plainly,” he said. “If I cannot trust you to make the right decision when the time calls for it, then I don’t want you in my department.” A scowl flickered across his face. “Do I make myself clear?”

Radiance, positively shaking now, gave an unsteady nod. “Y-yes, S-s-sir,” she stammered.

“Good,” the Commissioner said, leaning back and smiling. “A pleasure, as always, to meet with you.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “You can return to your desk now.”

Radiance turned, then carefully walked to the door. She resisted the temptation to run for it.

But only just.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The security guard looked up. “Hey, Radiance!” she cried joyfully. “Long time, no see!”

“Molly!” Radiance cried in return. “How’s the family?”

Mall Cop smiled. “The twins are fine. Starting school soon.” She reached for a picture frame on the desk. “Wanna see a picture?”

“Of course,” she said. “But I’m a little tight on time today.”

“No worries,” Molly replied. “Let me just—”

She leaned forward and flipped the cap off of one of the several speaking tubes built into her desk. 

“I have Radiance here in the lobby, waiting to see Night Light.” She listened attentively as the pony on the other end squawked back at her. “Yes, his daughter,” she added, rolling her eyes at Radiance. Some more squawking from the tube, and she nodded and snapped it closed. 

“He’s on his way,” she said. 

Radiance nodded her thanks, then turned to look out the window at the lunchtime traffic. Father’s office building stood on a busy street, so there was quite the fare for a dedicated ponywatcher through the big picture windows that looked out over Canterlot. Ordinarily, she would have been happy to spend a quiet afternoon here, just enjoying the scenery. However, she’d spent a rather large portion of her teenaged years waiting in this very lobby, and had already seen nearly all the view had to offer.

Besides: she had more important things to worry about at the moment. 

A few minutes later, the lobby’s elevator dinged open. Radiance turned and broke into a smile. 

“Daddy!” she cried fondly, trotting towards him. 

“Officer Radey!” he cried in return, pulling her in for a hug. 

Father had been working at this office since Radiance was a little filly--though he hadn’t always had the liberty of stepping away from his desk for impromptu little visits like this. He had actually got his start as a night watchpony at the Canterlot Museum of Art, when Mother was pregnant with Shiny and they found themselves in need of a few extra bits. He discovered, to his surprise, that the work agreed with him--especially since it allowed him to spend his afternoons with his family before he had to go to work. From there, he worked his way up the chain, getting promoted and headhunted and promoted again, until he found himself the manager of a prestigious security company. The sort that charged four- and five-figure sums when somepony important needed to be cared for. But, even when duty called him elsewhere, he always did his best to make time for his children--and, in Radiance’s case, that meant taking frequent advantage of Bring Your Daughter To Work days, training seminars on conflict resolution and self-defense, networking opportunities disguised as office parties--and, for one particularly memorable six months, meeting her for lunch every day in between Police Academy classes. 

Father pulled out of Radiance’s grasp, then looked down at her with a smile. “So,” he said, “what brings you all the way out here, Officer Radey?”

She smiled. He hadn’t stopped calling her Officer since she’d entered the Police Academy. Some days, she thought that he was more proud of her being a police officer than she was.

“Oh, you know,” she said evasively as she lit her horn, “I just thought I’d drop by…”

She opened up the flap of her saddlebags with her magic and lifted out a large thermos with the logo of the Café Cheval printed on the side. Father’s eyes lit up with an eager, greedy hunger at the sight of the thermos. If Radiance had learned anything about her father over the years, it was that he could never resist a cup of good coffee, a habit he had probably picked up during his time as a night watchpony. Probably a bad habit, truth be told, but it had its advantages. 

Father lit his horn and plucked the thermos from her grasp. 

“You know me so well,” he said wryly. “C’mon up,” he added, nodding towards the elevator. 


* * *


Father picked up his mug of coffee and took a slow, deep breath of its aroma. Radiance, munching on a sandwich across the desk from him, tried not to gag. Father preferred dark roast, taken black. She couldn’t understand why--the stench of the stuff reminded her of nothing so much as some of her sister Serenade’s more unfortunate culinary experiments. 

The two of them were sitting in Father’s office. When they had sat down, Radiance had opened her saddlebags again to reveal two sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, and a couple of Doughnut Joe’s finest chocolate sprinkles. Throwbacks to some of their favorite lunches together.

She chewed her sandwich while watching father savor his coffee. It was quite fascinating to watch, actually: when he needed a quick pick-me-up, he was more than happy to choke down any convenience-store fare he could find, but with a good cup? A really good cup? He took his time. It was almost like watching a wine connoisseur sampling a particularly rare vintage. 

She watched him in silence until, after several minutes of smelling, sipping, and savoring the drink, Father sighed, set it down on his desk, then reached for one of the doughnuts.

“So,” he said, “how are you doing, Radey? We miss having you home…”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I don’t think it’s dignified for a mare my age to live with her parents, if she can afford to care for herself.”

Father nodded. “I know,” he replied. “And yet, little Serenade still misses you.”

“As do you and Mother, I’m sure,” she added with a smile. 

Father nodded his head fondly, and smiled.

“It’s nice to have someone else around to help with the dishes, at least,” he said. 

Radiance pressed a hoof to her chest with a gasp of mock horror. Father chuckled, then took a bite of his doughnut.

“I know it’s what you have to do,” he said, spraying crumbs on the desk. “You and Twiley both. But still: that old house feels empty without you.”

“I know,” she sighed. She looked down at her sandwich. “I could come by for Sunday dinner, if it’d help?”

Father’s eyes lit up, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth--but he quickly stifled them. 

“I mean… if you have time,” he said, trying (and failing) to keep his voice neutral. 

Radiance smiled to herself, then mentally cleared her calendar. 

Father leaned back a little in his chair. “Maybe,” he said, “after dinner, we could go down into the basement and talk about whatever’s bothering you then.” He looked up at her slyly. “It’s not boy trouble, is it?”

Radiance frowned. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked. 

Father gestured at the spread before them. “Café Cheval coffee, Grilled Cheese’s best sandwich, and my favorite from Doughnut Joe’s? Radiance,” he said, “you haven’t tried this hard to butter me up since you were trying to convince me to buy you a Shadow Spade costume for your eighth birthday.” 

Her shoulders slumped. “It’s that obvious?” she said glumly. 

Father’s teasing smile turned to a frown. He put his doughnut down, then leaned forward. “What’s going on?” he said. “It, uh…” he looked down uncertainly. “It isn’t boy trouble, is it?”

She shook her head. “I wish,” she replied. “It would make things easier…”

Radiance took a deep breath, then let it out. “Dad,” she began, “you always said, when I was growing up, that I could always come to you--anytime, any place--for advice.” She looked up at him. “Is that still true?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Of course it is, Honey,” he said. “You can always talk to me. About whatever.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “This one’s a bit of a doozy…”

“I’m sure,” he said firmly. He paused for just a moment, then frowned a little. “Of course, some issues might be better suited for your mom…”

She shot him an ugly look, and he gulped involuntarily. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll try and be serious.”

She sighed, then looked at the ground. “Thank you,” she said. 

They sat there quietly for a while, while Radiance tried to force her thoughts into some sort of order. Should I be honest? Tweak the details? Lie, so he doesn’t worry?

Finally, she licked her lips.

“I have… a friend,” she said carefully, eyes still downward. “She has a job that she loves. And she thinks it’s what her Cutie Mark is telling her to do.”

Night Light nodded slowly.

“And… what sort of job might that be?”

Radiance froze. 

“Uh… baking,” she said, her voice trembling only a little. “She bakes cakes.”

“Uh-huh,” Night Light said, unconvinced. “Is this one of those ponies from Ponyville that you and Twilight know?”

Radiance shook her head. “She’s here. In Canterlot. Down off of Cliffrace Run.”

Father nodded, then gestured for her to continue. 

“Well…” Radiance said uncertainly, “This friend, she… she has a problem at work. There’s… another employee. And he drops the cupcakes, sometimes. But he still frosts them up and sends them out, hoping the customer will never notice.”

Father made a little hmm noise, but said nothing else. Radiance took another breath, and used the opportunity to think. Her story was coming easier now…

“My friend,” she continued, “she was thinking about telling someone about the problem employee. But then, while she was still trying to figure out what to do, the head baker came to talk to her. He said that everyone dropped a cupcake now and then, and that she was taking things too seriously.”

“Tell me,” her father interrupted, “these cupcakes--are they as big a problem as your friend thinks they are? Or is she perhaps just blowing things out of proportion?”

Radiance looked away. “Dropping a cupcake at all is a violation of health codes,” she said, her voice low. “Even if it weren’t, a cupcake is still getting damaged. Badly.”

Father nodded, then gestured at her to continue. 

She took another deep breath, then let it out “Here’s the thing,” she said slowly. “The baker told her that he didn’t want someone in his store who wouldn’t stand up for the other employees. He didn’t say it outright, but she thinks if she tells someone about how all these cupcakes are getting destroyed, he’s going to fire her. A-and she—” she suddenly felt herself choke up “--she’s always wanted to be a baker.”

“But there are other bakeries, aren’t there?”

Radiance grimaced. “Yes,” she admitted, “but this particular bakery--it’s… well, it’s a famous one. If she loses her job there, she probably won’t ever bake again.”

Father raised an eyebrow. “She could just leave the bad bakery off her resumé…”

Radiance rolled her eyes. “Bakers talk, Dad,” she said. “And, if they hear that she got fired, and what she got fired for—”

“Which would be?”

“Stealing from the register or something,” she said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Talking to the health department isn’t a crime. But the baker will find something else to get her in trouble for, I’m sure of it. Anyways,” she insisted, “my baker friend is worried that, if she gets a reputation as a bad baker, she’ll lose more than her job. She’s always wanted to bake--it’s the only thing she’s ever dreamed of. She’s built her whole identity around baking. Even her cutie mark is one about baking. It’s her destiny, Dad--and she’s in danger of losing it.” She cupped her head in her hooves. “She has to choose between looking the other way when somepony is getting hurt,” she said in a small voice, “or giving up everything she’s ever dreamed.” She was quiet for a second, before her eyes widened. “Cupcakes!” she blurted, looking up. “Getting hurt. Or something.”

Night Light watched her silently. After a few moments, she began to sag.

“It’s... it’s not actually cupcakes,” she admitted. 

Night Light nodded. “I figured,” he said simply.

Radiance winced. However, Father didn’t appear to notice. Instead, he looked down at his mug of coffee, picked it up, and took a quiet sip. He set the mug down, pressed his hooves together, and looked down at his lap. Radiance bit her lip and looked around the office, briefly wondering why the clock was suddenly taking so long between ticks... 

Finally, Father stood, then slowly walked around the desk. Radiance watched him curiously, until he walked up to her and drew her into a tight hug. Radiance sucked in a breath, then quietly began to cry. 

“If I know your friend as well as I think I do,” he said into her ear, “I would begin by telling her that she is a wonderful young mare. She’s smart, she’s kind, and she could have any stallion she wanted--when she gets around to it.”

Radiance squeezed her eyes shut. 

“I would also tell her,” he continued, “that this really is a difficult decision. It’s a big ask, to choose between your dreams and your conscience--and, for that reason, she shouldn’t feel bad about all the self doubt she’s been going through.” 

She felt fresh tears on her cheek--tears that were not her own. 

“But I also know,” he said quietly, “that she already knows what she should do. The consequences of her choice might be dire, but the question itself is a rather simple one: should she remain true to herself, or should she make someone else suffer for it?”

Her eyes snapped open. 

“But I want her to know,” Father continued, “that, no matter what she chooses, your mother and I will still be proud of her. She’s already done so much, both as a pony and as a policemare, that, no matter what happens, she should be proud of herself too.”

Radiance hugged Father even tighter.

“And let her know,” he said, “that, if things don’t work out in her favor, I would be honored to have her join our staff.” He paused, then chuckled. “I’ve always wanted an on-call baker of my very own.”

And, despite herself, Radiance laughed. Her laugh made Father laugh, which just made her laugh even harder. And the two of them kept laughing, off and on, until, eventually, things didn’t hurt so bad anymore.


* * *


Radiance jammed the enter key one last time. The typewriter dinged with a note of finality. Radiance let out a heavy sigh, then pulled the sheet from the typewriter and laid it on top of the tall stack of forms laid on her desk. 

She gathered the forms together and tapped them on the desk to make sure they were lined up properly. She laid them back down on the desk, then pulled a folded sheet of lined paper from one of her uniform pockets. She unfolded the paper, then smoothed it out on the desk with her hooves. She read Twilight’s hoofwriting carefully. Radiance was familiar with the basics of the spell, but she’d never actually tried it--especially with a document of this length and detail. Twilight, who always had been better at this sort of thing, had written out a set of detailed notes to help her with it. Radiance was something of a perfectionist even under the best of circumstances--but this spell, this time, had to go off without a hitch. 

Radiance reread a few lines of her notes, muttering under her breath as she did so. As she muttered, she pulled open a drawer in her desk and withdrew a stack of blank paper. She set it on the desk beside the forms. Finally, she sighed, closed her eyes, and lit her horn. 

The ink on the page glowed blue and began to tremble and shimmer. One by one, with the faintest sound of tearing paper, the letters peeled off the forms, then floated over to the blank papers, and arranged themselves in neat lines on the page. 

When the last of the tearing sounds had faded, Radiance opened her eyes, and allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. The stack of forms on the left still had all its text in place, but an exact copy of the original forms now lay on top of the stack of blank sheets. She flipped through the copy, then let out a sigh of relief: everything seemed to have copied correctly. It appeared that Madame Mimeograph really did know what she was doing, after all. 

Radiance set the copied forms to one side, then performed the spell twice more. When she was done, she wiped the sweat from her brow, then reached into another desk drawer and withdrew a small stack of manila envelopes. One by one, she slipped the copies into the envelopes, then arranged them in a careful stack: one copy for Internal Affairs, which, in theory, would investigate her report of excessive force without revealing her name--though it wouldn’t take much detective work to figure out which rookie had brought it to their attention. One copy she would give to her father for safekeeping at his office, and one she would sequester in a safe deposit box at Canterlot First Bank--perhaps a little overkill, of course, but Shadow Spade had taught her it was better to be too careful than not careful enough in cases like these. 

Finally, Radiance turned to her original copy. She slipped it into an envelope of its own, then hesitated. Finally, she picked up one of the pencils from her desk, pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the stack, then laid it in front of her. She stared at the blank sheet, and started tapping her pencil absently on the desk. Finally, she took a deep breath, lifted her pencil, and began to write. 

Dear Twiley, she wrote, I have a favor to ask…
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Radiance looked sadly down at the cardboard box in front of her. She always found it a little depressing to see how few boxes it took to pack up her entire life. It seemed like it should take more than five or six of them to contain a life as bright and full and vibrant as hers--and yet, when it came right down to it, there was so little she actually wanted to keep. 

Oh well, she thought to herself, as she reached for the packing tape, this was always supposed to be a temporary move, anyways.

She taped the box closed, then hefted it in her magic. She walked towards the front door, where she had already piled the other boxes for the movers. She had barely set it down when there was a knock at the door.

Probably the movers, she thought. Right on time.

“Come in!” she called, as she turned to walk back into the kitchen. 

The door creaked open behind her, and she heard a heavy tread on the linoleum entry. 

“Oh?” someone said, “Radiance, you’re moving already?

Radiance yelped in surprise, then whirled around. “Princess!” she cried, dropping to one knee. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting you—!”

“Please,” Princess Celestia said, “just call me Celestia. I’m only here unofficially.”

Radiance snuck a peek at her, and noticed that the Princess was not wearing her usual regalia. She stood almost twice as tall as Radiance herself, but without her crown, her horseshoes, and her peytral, she looked almost like a normal pony. Almost. 

“Prin—Celestia,” Radiance quickly corrected herself. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened,” she said simply. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“You heard, huh?” Radiance grumbled. 

“I did,” she said. “Though I didn’t expect you to move so soon.” She looked around the room. “You won’t be leaving your roommates in trouble, will you?”

Radiance shook her head. “Not at all,” she said. “Another one of the rookies--Peach Fuzz, actually--was looking for a new place to stay. She liked the location, and Pen and Curly liked her, so she’ll be moving in next week.”

“That’s good,” Celestia said. “However, I must admit, I’m sad to see you go. You were an excellent officer, Radiance. And that report you sent me was exceptionally well-written.”

“Thank you,” Radiance said with a small bow.

“Though, I’m curious…” Celestia added, “why did you ask your sister to forward your report to me? I know Twilight is one of my personal students, but I would think that, after all those Friendship Reports you’ve sent me, we would be on a first-name basis by now…”

Radiance looked down at the floor. “I was hoping it would carry a little more weight if it came from her,” she admitted. 

“Perhaps,” Celestia replied. “But I already trust you and your work. And I would have investigated a charge of this magnitude, anyways.”

Radiance looked up at her. “You haven’t finished already, have you?
 
“I have,” Celestia replied.

Radiance nodded. “And I’m assuming you decided…?”

“That your concerns were founded,” she said. “Kingfisher had suffered greatly at the hooves of your fellow officers.” She looked away. “Being afraid for one’s life, and reacting to that fear irrationally, is not necessarily a crime. However, taking that fear out on somepony undeserving is--especially if the entire Department is involved in protecting the guilty at the expense of the innocent.”

Radiance hesitated. “What ended up happening with the Department, anyways?” she asked. “I wasn’t really around to find out…”

Celestia sighed. “I believe my press secretary wanted to call it a bloodbath,” she said, “though I convinced her to use the term shakeup. Captain Hard Case, who, as far as we can tell, actually initiated the incident, was immediately dismissed. Five other officers were suspended without pay, including Commissioner Brass. And I’ve ordered both an extensive review of department policy and rigorous, Department-wide training on how to properly subdue suspects.” She hesitated. “We’re also working on specific policies, guidelines, and best practices on how to respectfully and compassionately interact with cultures that the officers might not be familiar with.”

“What about Kingfisher?” Radiance asked. “What happened to him?”

Celestia grimaced. “To be honest,” she said, “I am not entirely sure. I offered him free medical treatment, along with a substantial recompense for his trouble. Instead, he asked for a train ticket back home, or at least, as close as the rails could take him. He told me that he was tired of dealing with the prejudice he experienced in Equestria, and just wanted to be among family for a while.” She gave a crooked smile. “Though his language was a great deal more… shall we say, colorful than that.” 

Radiance chuckled. “I can imagine,” she said. “But please tell me you didn’t leave him with nothing…”

“Absolutely not,” Celestia replied. “I insisted on giving him a lunch to take home with him--a lunch that included a check for several hundred bits in the bottom of the bag. We’re still not sure what happened to the gems he was carrying when he arrested, but the check should make up for those, at least. And it will be his choice whether to actually accept the help and cash it. Either way,” she finished, “hopefully he will realize that at least some ponies don’t want to leave him out in the cold.”

Radiance nodded. “I hope he does,” she said. “He deserves better treatment than he got.” 

“Indeed,” Celestia said. “Speaking of which--what exactly happened with you?”

Radiance heaved a dramatic sigh, tinged with more than a little sorrow. 

“Exactly what I told you in my letter,” she said. “I wasn’t fired, no--they would never fire someone who had just initiated an investigation against almost every one of her senior officers. I was simply told that my contract had expired, and would not be renewed. After all, I—” she raised her hooves and made air quotes in the air “—‘wasn’t a good fit for department culture.’”

Celestia bowed her head. “I am very sorry to hear that,” she said. “Perhaps I should have our investigators take a closer look at their HR department…” 

“If they do,” Radiance replied, “they’ll find a second copy of the report penned by Yours Truly. Probably in the very back of a filing cabinet somewhere.” 

Celestia pressed her lips into a thin line. “I would be happy to reinstate you, if you like,” she said. “It would be an honor to have a pony with such integrity as yourself on the Force.”

Radiance shook her head. “After the way they’ve treated me,” she said, “I have no desire to darken that door again. I refuse to work with ponies as petty, mean-spirited, and cruel as they are--no matter how good their intentions might be.”

“Of course,” Celestia said. “But—” she looked around the apartment sadly “--what are you going to do now?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Radiance said. She walked into the kitchen, then began sorting through the dishes in the cupboards. “I wasn’t exactly flush with cash in the first place, so, without a steady job, I’m going to have to move back home.” She paused. “Perhaps I’ll try and get a job at one of those boutiques downtown. I have quite an eye for fashion, if I say so myself…”

Celestia frowned a little. “Seems like a waste of talent,” she admitted. “Doesn’t your father work in a security company? I’m sure he’d be happy to hire you. If not, I’m sure I could find you a position in the Guard.” She paused. “I feel I owe you that much, at least.”

Radiance shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, I really do,” she said. “But I must admit: I despise favors. No offence,” she added, as she laid a plate from the cupboard into an open cardboard box. “But I can’t be my own pony if I have to accept help all the time.” Another dish floated into the box. “Personality flaw? Perhaps,” she admitted. “But I’ve always felt a need to help others simply because they need help, not because of what they can do for me in return.”

Celestia nodded. “I understand,” she said. “I don’t agree, but I understand.”

Celestia watched Radiance place another few plates in the box. Then, she stepped forward, used her magic to open a different cupboard, and began sorting through the bowls, putting them in matching stacks. 

“You know,” she said after a while, “there is one more opportunity you might be interested in…”

Radiance shot her a skeptical look. 

“How do you feel about Ponyville?” Celestia asked. 

Radiance raised a cautious eyebrow. “Twiley and her friends seem to like it,” she said. “I haven’t seen much of it, myself--though it is a little small for my tastes.”

“That may actually be to your advantage,” Celestia replied. Radiance shot her a sharp look as Celestia took a deep breath. “Ponyville is small, of course,” she continued, “but it’s growing, and growing fast. They have a sheriff already, but he’s started thinking about appointing a deputy.” She looked kindly down at Radiance. “And I can think of no pony I would recommend more than yourself.” 

Radiance gave the smallest of frowns. “I don’t follow,” she said. “It’s still a policing job, isn’t it?”

“In a way,” Celestia replied. “But at the same time, completely different. Sheriff is an elected position, which means that the department is accountable to the ponies they serve. Additionally, it’s incredibly small--at this point, the only one on the payroll is Sheriff Grasshopper himself.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Who, I may add, has been accused of being more than a little lazy from time to time.”

Radiance smiled a little, and Celestia returned the grin. 

“In any case,” she continued, “I strongly suspect that you will be able to satisfy the demands of your destiny, as well as your conscience, out in Ponyville. Additionally, with you being only the second employee, you will likely have a large role in shaping future department policies. With any luck, none of your coworkers will have to make the sort of decision you’ve had to. And, if you like the work enough…” she smiled again “...well. Sheriff Grasshopper is up for election within the next few years. If you work hard, you might end up sitting in the big chair yourself?”

Radiance bit her lip, then shot a covert look at the little square of mirror Curly had hung on the refrigerator. Perhaps she would look good in khaki…

And, just as she was starting to coordinate an outfit, a sudden thought struck her like lightning. She looked away, her gut  turning to ice.

“Do you think I would do a good job?” she asked. “Really?”

“Of course I do,” Celestia replied. 

“But I’m just a rookie,” she said in a tiny voice. “What if I mess up?”

Celestia shook her head. “Everyone makes mistakes,” she said, “though I expect that you will make fewer than most. In either case, I’m not worried: you’ve already demonstrated your bravery, generosity, and integrity. And that,” she said with a smile, “is a far more important qualification for a police officer than anything you could have learned from the Canterlot PD.” 

Radiance smiled, and her eyes misted over with tears. She very nearly lunged forward to hug the Princess--but, before she could, a series of sharp knocks sounded at the front door. Radiance started in surprise, then dashed over to it. Before she grabbed the doorknob, however, she stopped, then shot an uneasy glance at Celestia, a question in her eyes. 

Celestia chuckled, then waved dismissively. “Pretend I’m not even here,” she said, turning back to the bowls. 

Radiance opened the door and glanced up. At first, she thought the movers had finally come--but to her surprise, the one in front looked surprisingly familiar…

Before she could process what she was seeing, Shining Armor swept her up in his arms and squeezed her tight, almost cracking her ribs as he did.

“Sis!” he cried. “Long time no see!” 

Radiance let out a strangled gasp, then freed one arm and managed to get it around his shoulders in a half-hug. 

“Same… here…” she groaned. 

And then, there was the rest of them--Mother and Father and little Serenade, all reaching in for a hug. 

“Proud of ya, Radey,” Shining Armor whispered in her ear. 

Radiance closed her eyes, and the tears ran freely down her cheeks. 

Suddenly, she heard a yelp of surprise from Mother. Shining Armor let go of Radiance, and she landed on her hooves. She turned to see Mother staring in awe and horror at the sight of the Princess packing dishes in the kitchen. Father, wearing a saddlebag full of cleaning chemicals, took a step around Mother and gaped.  

“Your Highness, please!” Mother cried, bobbing her head in a quick bow. “No need for a Princess like you to do that! That’s our job!” 

“Nonsense,” Celestia said, carefully stacking Radiance’s bowls in the box, “I enjoy the change of pace. Besides,” she added, “it’s my job to help ponies. And who is more deserving of help than one of the best police officers we’ve ever had on the Force?”

Mother continued to protest, but Celestia just continued to pack the dishes. Father, meanwhile, still stood rooted to the spot. Serenade rolled her eyes, then nudged him with her shoulder. 

“C’mon, Dad,” she grumbled, “it’s not like you haven’t met her before…”

Shining Armor laughed, then gave Radiance another quick hug. “I’d love to stay,” he said, “but I’ve got a date with Cadence tonight.” His eyes sparkled. “A very special date.”

Radiance turned to look at him. “Oh?” she asked. “Is tonight the night?”

“Yep,” he said proudly. He drew a small box from his saddlebags, then tossed it to Radiance. She caught it in her magic, then opened it up.

“Ooooh,” she said. 

The small, velvet box held an ornate ring of gold, set with sapphires, emeralds, and rubies, with one large diamond set in the middle.

“I just hope she likes antiques,” Shiny said nervously. “I’m still not sure she’s going to appreciate Grandma’s old ring…” 

Radiance smiled. “Coming from you?” she said, snapping the box closed. “I think she’d be happy with a twist-tie.”

Shiny laughed, then took the ring back from her. “You’re probably right,” he said. “Either way: next time you see me, I’ll be engaged to the most beautiful mare in Equestria.”

Radiance leaned forward and hugged him. “Congratulations,” she said. “Tell me how it goes.”

“Of course,” he said. “You’ll be the first to know. After Mom and Dad, of course.”

Suddenly, Shiny froze. He looked up over the top of Radiance’s head, at the kitchen behind her. 
“Your Highness?” he asked uncertainly. “You… you didn’t hear what we were talking about, did you?”

“My lips are sealed,” called Celestia. “Though I should warn you--she’s had her wedding planned down to the minute since she was fourteen. I hope you look good in red.”

Shining Armor chuckled nervously. 

“Come on,” Radiance said, slugging him fondly in the shoulder. “She loves you. Yeah, things might get a little crazy--you’re marrying a Princess, for Harmony’s sake…” she smiled “...but, no matter what happens, we’ll all be here for you. Just like all of you were here for me.” She hugged Shining again. “That’s what family is for. We’re supposed to share each other’s burdens, and make things as easy as we can for each other.”

Shiny hugged her back. “Thanks, Radiance,” he said. 

“Any time. Really,” Radiance replied. “Now go knock ‘er dead.” 

“Hopefully not,” Celestia replied from the kitchen. 

Shiny, startled, looked up at her, his face turning a distinct shade of green. Radiance, seeing his expression, choked back a snort of laughter. 
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kingfisher entered the little town head held high, trying to project an air of confidence. Confidence he didn’t exactly feel. 

The Crystal pony villages up in the mountains were too far out of the way to have their own train station. The best the Princess could do was to give him a ticket for some historic forest in the foothills. Much better than walking the whole way, but it still left him with a hundred miles or so to go. 

Hence, Kingfisher found himself hiking through the wilderness, in a more-or-less straight line, for home. The weather was nice enough for him to sleep outside, and he got by pretty well on grass, green leaves, and spring water. He had been hoping to make his whole way home like that, never having to see another Equestrian pony the rest of the trip. All the better if he never had to see one again.

But his body had other ideas.

Kingfisher put on a brave face, but the hospitality of the Canterlot Police Department had really done a number on him. Ordinarily, a hike of a hundred miles or so would have been a cakewalk--but the hardscrabble rocks, and the beds of leaves and pine needles, were dragging at him. Each morning, his old injuries hurt worse and worse. He had hoped to somehow stagger all the way home without stopping, but, this morning, he could barely stand.

That was it, then. He couldn’t go on without a place to sleep--a good-and-proper sleep, one that might let him heal a bit. And he needed an actual meal. And a shower. But most of all sleep, in a bed, under a roof. His body had been begging him for days, and now he had finally decided to listen. 

Or, he was trying, at least. The problem was, beds were in houses, and houses were in villages--and  every little village brought new danger. Kingfisher had left home a bright-eyed optimist, with nothing but hope in his heart for the adventure ahead. But long experience had beaten the hope out of him. 

Lowland ponies--especially the ones out in the country--were scared of him. Or perhaps hated him. Didn’t matter much either way, the result was the same. He didn’t need to look to know that every pony in town was watching him as he marched down the middle of no-name boulevard in wherever-the-Tartarus town this was. He had hoped a little tourist town way out in the middle of the woods would have been a little better, given how many ponies had travelled from far away to see the place--but it seemed that they had all the same prejudices as Manehattan or Canterlot. 

Show no fear, he said to himself. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.

And yet, the weight of the townfolks’ gazes made him pick up the pace a little. 

Kingfisher very nearly cried out for joy when he spotted the hotel. Or maybe it was a bed-and-breakfast. Either way, the Morning Glory Inn promised him a place to rest his head, a place to lie down out of the sun--and a place to hide from the gazes of the townsfolk. 

He had to duck to step through the door. It took him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The lobby of the inn was decorated with old-fashioned couches, with cut-glass lamps standing beside them. A small family--mother, father, and two foals--were standing off to one side. While the foals slept on one of the sofas, the mother and father were debating, quietly but urgently, over a guide book. At the desk, a withered old stallion was writing in a big, leather-bound book with a fancy quill. At the sound of Kingfisher’s hoof-falls, he looked up. As soon as he spotted Kingfisher, his eyes widened in barely-restrained surprise. 

“May I help you?” he asked, an icy edge of authority creeping into his voice. 

Kingfisher had joked a pony like him could snap a unicorn in half if he wanted--a unicorn like the clerk before him, doubly so. And yet, he knew that tone. It was the voice of disdainful, dismissive authority, polite on the surface, hostile underneath. He’d heard it before, from nearly every place he’d visited on his journey. And a voice like that made him feel very small, like he was back in school being punished for something he didn’t even know he’d done.

His ears drooped.

“I would like to let a room, please,” he said quietly, in his best attempt at an Equestrian accent.

The clerk’s eyes widened slightly at his accent, then narrowed in suspicion. “I apologize,” he said imperiously, “but the inn is currently not accepting reservations.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kingfisher saw the father of the family look up. He shrank a little further. 

“Ach, come on,” he said, letting his accent slip, “I’ll take anythin’. I just need a place tae rest ma heid.”

The stallion, sensing weakness, let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. 

“I am sorry if you misheard,” he said, “but the Inn is not accepting—”

“In that case,” said a voice behind him, “I would like to rent a room now. No reservation. You don’t mind walk-ins, do you?”

Kingfisher looked around, and nearly jumped out of his skin: the father of the family, a dark-blue pegasus, had stepped up beside him.

The clerk behind the desk looked over his glasses at the interloper. “I beg your pardon?” he said, as his glasses slid down his nose. 

“I said,” the pegasus repeated, “that I don’t want a reservation. I want to rent a room for tonight. Now, in fact,” he added. He held his hoof out expectantly for the keys.

The clerk shot an uneasy glance at Kingfisher, which made him shrink back even further. 

“I sup-p-pose,” the clerk said, drawing the word out like he was pulling taffy, “we may be able to accommodate your family, though I shall have to review our records…”

“Alright then,” the pegasus said. “Then what’s the problem with him?” he added, nodding in Kingfisher’s direction. 

The clerk bristled.

“The Inn does not have the facilities to properly accommodate a stallion of his…” he glanced up at Kingfisher again. “...stature,” he finished. 

“But you can accommodate a family of four?” the pegasus cut in. 

The clerk flared his nostrils. “Sir,” he said coldly, “I do not appreciate your tone of voice…”

“And I do not appreciate you turning away a willing customer merely because of his stature,” he snapped. “It’s not only unprofessional, it’s not only unkind, it’s actually illegal.” 

In the sudden silence, he flashed a grin. “By the way, I don’t know that we’ve been introduced.” he extended a hoof. “The name’s Bluebook, professor at Cloudsdale College of Law.” 

The clerk paled. 

“Now you’re getting it,” Bluebook said. “So let me make this easy for you: I know you have a vacancy. We were here when those unicorns checked out early. So, you’ll give that room to our friend here.” 

Kingfisher took an involuntary half-step backwards. 

“And,” Bluebook continued, “you’re not going to give him any trouble—in fact, you’re going to give him any sort of premium treatment that he wants.” he held his head a little higher. “And I’ll take care of it for him. All of it.”

Kingfisher’s eyes widened.

“Now,” Bluebook continued, “I want to set a good example for my children, so we’re not going to patronize an inn so sour and spiteful as yours. Instead, we’re going to find another place for the night. But we’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early, and I’m going to pay whatever sort of bill that this fine stallion has racked up.” His gaze hardened. “And if I hear that you’ve mistreated him in any way--or tacked on any bogus charges to his bill--then I’ll have to suggest that a few of my former students come by for a visit. In a professional capacity, of course.”

The clerk paled, then hopped down from his stool and scurried into the back. Bluebook smirked, then turned, walked back to the couch, and started to gather their luggage. His wife shot him a look of mixed irritation and pride, and picked up the younger of their two foals.

As they packed, Kingfisher hesitantly made his way over to Bluebook. 

“Ye didnae have tae do that,” he said. 

“‘Course I do,” he said. “You’re a pony, just like me. That makes you worthy of respect and protection, no matter who you are. Besides,” he said, picking up his other foal and setting him on his back, “I want to set a good example for my kids, just like I said.”

“But they’re asleep,” Kingfisher pointed out. 

Bluebook shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “This isn’t the only time Honeycomb and I have stood up for someone else.” Bluebook’s wife gave Kingfisher a little wave. “The little ones know how important it is that we treat everyone with kindness and respect, no matter what.” He pulled Honeycomb in for a hug. “We want to make a better world for our foals, and we’ve got to do our part to make that happen.”

“And besides,” Honeycomb cut in, “he couldn’t sleep at night if he didn’t do something.” She smiled. “He only teaches because Public Righter of Wrongs doesn’t pay very much.” 

Bluebook chuckled, then extended his hoof. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said. “Bluebook.”

Kingfisher shook his hoof. “Kingfisher,” he said. 

“Good to meet you, Kingfisher,” Bluebook said. With one wing, he opened up one of his saddlebags, drew out a business card, and handed it to him. “If you ever happen to make it up to Ponyville, come on by. We’ll give you a hot meal and a warm bed anytime you need it.”

“Good town,” Honeycomb added. “Nice and peaceful. It’s a bit of a commute for Bluebook, but it’s worth it for the kids.”

“I might take yous up on that,” Kingfisher said, smiling for the first time since entering the hotel. He took the proffered card in his teeth, and turned to squirrel it away in his own bags. 

Suddenly, there was a clattering in the hall, and the clerk bustled into the foyer, carrying a folded towel, an ornate door key with a wooden tag, and a strained half-smile on his face that looked like it was about to crack.

Kingfisher gave the clerk an uneasy look, then turned back to Bluebook. “I better go,” he said. 

Bluebook nodded. “Safe travels, friend,” he said, as he bent down to pick up one of his suitcases in his teeth. 

“Aye,” Kingfisher replied, “safe travels tae ye, an’ all.”

He turned and walked down the hall after the clerk. As he did, he realized that he was holding his head a little higher. The future was still gloomy, of course--no telling what he was going to do for lodging tomorrow night--but knowing that somepony else cared for him, if only as a fellow equine, made things a little more bearable. 

The clerk opened the door to the room, put the towel on the bed a little too carelessly, then turned and marched from the room without another word. Kingfisher stepped gingerly inside, then looked around in awe. It was the single nicest place he had ever set hoof in. It even smelled nice, like mountain wildflowers in spring. 

Kingfisher set his saddlebags on the floor, then lay down on the bed—absolute heaven after spending so many nights in the woods. He nearly fell asleep right then and there--but he decided he needed to get up and have a shower before he dirtied the sheets.

A half-hour or so later, Kingfisher emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a wet towel draped over his shoulders. He walked over to his saddlebags and pulled them open to find his toothbrush. Before he could start digging, however, he frowned. He plucked Bluebook’s business card off the top, read it, then turned it over. 

Equestria had been rough for a pony like him. No debating that. If the whole place suddenly burned down or was drowned in the sea, he’d barely shed a tear. But maybe—just maybe—there were some ponies out there who made it worthwhile. Who didn’t necessarily know how it felt to be him, but did their best to lift his burden anyways. Those ponies alone couldn’t banish the dark clouds from the sky—not overnight, at least. But if there were enough of them, trying hard enough, they might, over time, just make the world a little brighter of a place. 

Kingfisher carefully laid the card back on top of his bags. The next time he felt a need to go wandering, he might make his way to Ponyville. If Bluebook and Honeycomb were any indication, it might even be a nice enough place for him to consider settling down there.

And that thought made him happier than he’d ever felt before. 
> The End
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