Train En Route to Ponyville - 5:15 AM

It would take about four hours to get from Manehattan to Ponyville. I wanted to use the time to catch up on some much needed rest, but despite my best efforts sleep was just something my body refused. I spent an hour staring out the window before I decided to do something else instead.

It was about time I caught up on the newest issue of “The Adventures of Captain Baseball Bat Boy”, an import graphic novel from the human federation and still my favorite graphic novel since foalhood. It mostly dealt with a hyperactive human kid that solved his problems by cracking heads with his baseball bat. In this month’s issue, Captain Baseball Bat Boy was up against his most dangerous nemesis; the nefarious Maxwell’s Demon and his army, The Freaking Demons from Outer Space. It was good stuff that made the last leg of the trip bearable. Still, it wasn’t that long and I finished it in about a half an hour.

It was a guilty pleasure, and one that at least kept my head away from undesirable thoughts, like the daunting task of questioning an entire town about a pony whose name, age, and color I didn't know.

I spent the rest of my time looking at a map of Equestria and its surroundings. My eyes settled on my destination first - Ponyville - and then the rest of the country.

Ponyville was a medium-sized trade town located right in the middle of Equestria with routes going through it to nearly all corners of the nation. More west than north of Ponyville lay Canterlot: Equestria’s largest city and capital. Canterlot was most known for the ancient castle built eons before Celestia and Luna's rule, and the massive airports that had been added to the cliff side. Airships of all types constantly loaded and unloaded at the ports, bringing goods from all over the world.

To the southwest of Ponyville was an expanse of near-impenetrable woodlands: the Everfree Forest. It’s been said to be the dwelling place of both monstrosities and secrets from ages long forgotten, stretching back to the reign of the Zeborites who had lived almost ten thousand years ago before being wiped out by an unknown catastrophe. The Everfree Forest was a place where even the bravest dared not tread, and the few that did were monster hunters or alchemists in search of rare ingredients.

Due south of Ponyville was Hoofington, a small town roughly the size of Cloudsdale, which itself laid northwest of Ponyville.

I didn't know much about the place other than it was home to some of the world's best magicians and illusionists. From what I've read, the town was the birthplace of Trixie Solaris - adoptive daughter of Celestia Solaris - who at the time, was the most powerful non-divine being in the world. What became of her was never resolved, as she vanished alongside the Princesses and another of Celestia's closest aides; a young unicorn named Twilight Sparkle.

To the northwest lay Stalliongrad, the hive of scum and villainy in Equestria - a town completely operated by the Rosalinos and the Stooped Necromancers. The town was a Regulator's worst nightmare, yet against all common sense Stalliongrad had earned a reputation for being one of the safest places left in Equestria outside of Canterlot. The heads of the town council - all of whom had close ties to both the Rosalinos and the Necromancers - kept the streets secure. The undisputed head of council, Donna Flutter - daughter of Don Rosalino and current head of the Flutters - took a personal role in keeping 'her' streets as safe and as orderly as organized crime would allow. It spoke volumes, considering the sheer barbarism of the cultists and petty thugs.

Rumor had it that Donna Flutter ruled Stalliongrad with the same iron-hoofed justice as her father mixed with the care and tenderness of her mother. Many citizens of the town considered her a saint.

Finally, to the west of Ponyville lay Manehattan, my home town...for the time being. The big rotten apple itself. There wasn’t much say other than ‘keep your distance’.

Train En Route to Ponyville - 9:15 AM

The train slowed down as my station was called through the ancient loudspeakers. I gathered up my belongings - all of which I had miraculously managed to fit into a pair of saddlebags no bigger than my torso - and stepped towards the door. I looked at my watch; it was a little past nine in the morning. I took a deep breath and prepared to disembark.

Chapter One

Well, here I am; Ponyville. It’s... a lot more colorful than I expected...

The town was almost entirely made up of mares and fillies, with very few stallions to be seen. The houses were colorful, the shops were colorful, even the ground seemed colorful; it was as if I had stepped into some kind of children's book and was now part of the story.

As I walked, mares and fillies gave me looks of curiosity and excitement; every gaze seemed to study me from head to toe, as if I was the first real stallion they had laid eyes on for who knows how many years.

It left me feeling at odds with the populace. It was easy for them to tell me apart - likely a given considering the way I was dressed and acted. I made sure that my bag was close for quick access to Negotiator should the need arise.

It was an old beast, Negotiator. She wasn’t the most advanced revolver on the market, but as far as sidearms went she was reliable, rugged, and powerful. Combine that with her above-average accuracy, .44 caliber rounds, and the add-on of a Magi-tech ammunition replenisher, and she was easily the best primary firearm. At least in my eyes. She could out-shoot just about any other type of handgun, especially the new semi-automatic Gauss handguns the humans loved to brag about...

I still remember the day the war started. It was the day human weaponry became the standard for the Equestrian military. They were divided into two classes and came to represent the future of warfare as we know it...

***

The Gauss class of weaponry covered just about everything that used electromagnets to ‘propel’ their metal projectiles. They were as fast as traditional gunpowder without all the waste, like casings and such. They also had the added advantage of reliability: pull the trigger and it’d fire every time. What they didn’t have however, was the ability to hit targets using kinetic shielding. That’s where energy weapons came in.

The energy class of weapons covered everything that used lasers and plasma. They ran on external energy sources like batteries or  - on the off chance that a unicorn had enough power - magic. While the pinpoint accuracy of a laser rifle and the sheer destructive power of a plasma scatter-gun can’t be denied, energy weapons usually required extensive and specialized training as well as great care in the field to maximize their potential. That disadvantage was mostly overlooked though since they could bypass kinetic shields altogether.

The two had practically made gunpowder and magic weapons obsolete...

Not all nations embraced the future as readily as Equestria did though. Many nations kept their traditional weapons. Griffins for example, had their own set of melee armaments, all of which hearkened back to a more ‘primitive’ time in their history. Their natural mastery of both sky and ground, coupled with their ferocious nature and superior endurance made them formidable opponents. They fought claw-to-claw because they could afford to.

Stories even circulated around HQ of a griffin supposedly shrugging off a railgun blast; an attack that would easily eviscerate a human after cleaving them in two and reduce an equine to nothing more than fine red paste. It was just a rumor of course, but even this rumor had a little truth to it; griffin bodies were durable, but definitely not indestructible.

In a way, I’m glad to know I’m not the only one that prefers different weapons on the battlefield. Truth be told, it doesn’t matter how you fight, so long as you win.

***

As I kept on walking, mind back on my assignment, I couldn't help but frown; there must have been hundreds of ponies living in this town. How was I ever going to ask all of them about my lead? I couldn't interrogate every single one; that would take weeks, if not months.

I sighed, closing my eyes for just a second to try and come up with a feasible solution.

Maybe if I set up a small office here? Hired some assistants? No, that would take too much time and lots of money. Money I don’t have. I needed to find a nice quiet place to think this through…

I turned to head down the street when I suddenly bumped into somepony, knocking us both to the ground.

I landed face first, eating some dirt in the process. I shook my head, quickly standing back up and looking at the culprit. I was ready to utter some rather nasty words, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the pony.

She was a pink earth pony that smelled of pastries and sarsaparilla. Her mane and tail were puffs of magenta that looked more like cotton candy than hair. She was young - no older than seventeen or eighteen. Her cutie mark had two blue party balloons and one yellow one.

The pink pony - who appeared unharmed - quickly recovered from her fall, hopping on her hooves before I could even say a word. She shook her head and smiled, taking one long look at me, her smile seeming to grow and her blueish-cyan eyes widening to proportions I hadn’t thought possible for any living creature.

Suddenly, she jumped up in the air, gasped loudly for what seemed like a minute straight, and zoomed away at an impossibly fast pace - not once touching the ground - until she was completely out of sight.

I stood there, shaking my head in an attempt to make sense of what I had just seen. "That was weird..." I found myself whispering. Maybe I had imagined the encounter, or maybe I had run into some new kind of equine. I didn't know for certain, and I wasn't about to waste valuable brain cells trying to figure it out; I had other priorities. I picked up my bag and continued on my way.

A minute hadn’t even passed before I was knocked to the ground yet again, this time by a young unicorn mare. She was a creamy off-white color and had indigo hair which was carefully fashioned into curls. On her rump was a cutie mark of three shining diamonds.

She skidded to a stop and looked back at me, her face full of remorse.

I grunted, picking myself up once again. I looked at my outfit, which was now stained with mud and grass. I tried to shake it clean, but the mud wouldn't come off, not even with magic.

I looked at the pony, ready to utter some kind of obscenity, but after laying eyes on her my words vanished as I felt my heart skip a beat.

The unicorn... she was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. Her mane was radiant with a life all its own, her eyes seemed capable of peering into one's soul, her lips were rosy and fresh, her coat vibrant and clearly well taken care of...

She was an angel come down from the heavens in these dark times.

She walked up to me, eyes guilt ridden. “Are you alright darling?” she asked in a voice full of sophistication and proper manners. “I didn't mean to knock you on the ground like that, and now look at you! So filthy and unkempt!” She eyed my getup with a scowl on her face. “Oh, look at you! That duster - so ancient and worn!” She looked at my riot gear next. “And that armor! Are those bullet holes I see? Is that dried blood?! My word!” she gasped. “That armor is far too light for someone like you to wear!" She suddenly grabbed me by the neck of my duster. "You just have to come with me darling! There is so much that needs to be done about that getup!"

"What?" I managed to utter before I found myself being dragged by the mare; she was surprisingly strong considering her size. I barely managed to get my saddlebags floating behind me as she took me deeper into the town, past the shops and the marketplace and into what I could only describe as the upper quarters where all manner of well dressed ponies roamed the streets.

As I looked around, what appeared to be a carousel came into sight - a large, purple-colored carousel that seemed out of place next to the small mansions and estates.

The mare magically opened her door and stopped dragging me the moment we were inside. I took a look around soon as I could, and saw hundreds of pieces of clothing neatly arranged in various rows, all either in the process of completion or altogether finished. The clothes on display were quite diverse: suits, gowns, jackets, coats, dusters and saddles of all styles and colors.

"Alright darling," the pony said in a soft manner, "I need you to take off everything you're wearing."

"What?" I asked in shock, "Why the hell would I do that!?"

"Oh you silly foal!" She motioned coyly, "How else am I supposed to fit you with a new suit?"

"I don't want a new suit!" I nearly shouted, "I like what I’m wearing just fine!"

"No, no, no, no! It just won't do darling. Even a Regulator such as yourself needs to look his best every once in a while!" She used her magic to take off my duster, which upon closer inspection, was indeed starting to fade in certain places.

"I'm sure your line of work leaves little time to go around window shopping for new getups, but that's no excuse to be sporting such a dreadful piece of clothing! And that armor has quite definitely seen better days! I mean, who modified it? It's much too thin to be bulletproof!"

She removed my armor as well, spinning me in the air several times before I fell on the ground, left in nothing more than my natural, charcoal black coat.

"Wait, how do you know about armor?" I asked concernedly as I eyed the white unicorn. "Better yet, how did you know I’m a Regulator?"

“Part of your badge is showing,” she said, pointing at one of my duster’s inner pockets. Sure enough, the small leather wallet that held my badge was flipped open, showing a small bit of the shield-like emblem with the letters ‘lator’ in plain view.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.  

“Right.” I said, clearing my throat and reaching over to shove the badge deeper into my pocket. “Still, who do you think you are, telling me what to do?”

"Oh my!" she suddenly exclaimed, a look of great shock on her face. "Where are my manners? My name is Rarity Diamant, and I am this town's most prolific fashion designer. I work with it all, including armor. As a matter of fact, most of the orders I get are from rich Canterlotians who wish to have their suits reinforced with all matter of bulletproof materials."

“Canterlot?” I asked, “That’s the capital. Security in Canterlot’s supposed to be extremely tight. If they’re having trouble then...”

“Then what darling?” Rarity asked, curious as to what I was going to say.

“...Nothing.” I said.

“Well,” the unicorn went on, “I hear the Cult’s becoming bolder and more hostile in that area. Many of my clients there feel the need to enhance their personal protection.” She sighed. "No one is safe from those cultists-" She stopped suddenly as she shook her hoof in the air with fury. "Those cultist scum! Yes, I can't think of a more fitting term for them than ‘scum’!" She looked at me almost guiltily. "Oh dear me, there I am going off about the Cult again." She levitated my duster into the air, carefully inspecting it with an eye for detail that only a fashion designer could posses.

I raised an eyebrow. Can’t put my hoof on it, but I’m starting to like this mare.

Suddenly, the purplish glow that surrounded the duster became white. I could sense some new power in the air.

"Oh my!” Rarity said as she looked at me wide eyed. “This duster used to belong to someone else didn't it darling?"

"Yes…" I said with some intrigue. How did she figure out the duster wasn’t mine just by looking at it?

“And was the previous owner was a unicorn, correct?”

“Yes, she was,” I replied rather quickly. “But how could you have possibly known that just by looking at it?"

“Darling,” Rarity started, “unicorn magic, especially powerful or emotionally charged magic, leaves an imprint on things - particularly clothing - if they’re worn often. Think of it like an afterimage...or an echo of sorts...” She smiled softly. “Clothes, just like all of us, have stories to tell if you’re able to listen.”

Rarity’s face suddenly lost some of its color. “Oh my...this duster’s story...it’s just so sad - and so brutal...” She looked back at me. “Its previous owner was a good friend of yours... she’s dead, isn’t she?”

“...Yes.” I said solemnly.

“I’m sorry.” Rarity said. “The sad ones always speak loudest....” She smiled rather grimly. “I did manage to get one useful tidbit of information out of the duster though; your name.”

“You know my name?” I asked in surprise.

“Bogart Maltese,” she replied quickly.

“Impressive,” I said in awe. “You’re the first real ‘seer’ I’ve seen who actually got my name the first time around. Very impressive.”

“Well, your name was the only thing clear enough to really ‘see’. Everything else was pure chaos. For that detail to be so clear... your partner must have thought the world of you.” Rarity seemed suddenly crestfallen. “How dreadful to think that I am among the last to bear this so called ‘gift’...”

“Gift huh? Hereditary magic, I’m guessing.”

“Yes, from my mother’s side. My sister has yet to show any trace of the power, so I fear I may be the last to bear it.”

“How old is your sister?” I asked.

“She’s sixteen.”

“Ah, she’s still a young filly then.” My mind suddenly went back to cult and their habit of ravaging such young equines. “Keep her safe.” I told her in a surprisingly commanding tone.

“I will.” She had a look of fierce determination on her face.

“Well, I think it’s time I formally introduced myself. Name’s Bogart Maltese, Regulator, second lieutenant. I came down from Manehattan to follow up on a case two years in the making. Perhaps you can be of assistance.” I walked to my saddlebags and pulled out my notepad.  “Two years ago,” I started, “there was a brutal murder near the town of Stalliongrad. A family of ‘rock farmers’ was killed by the Cult. At the time, it was believed the crime was little more than another random act of violence. Recent developments have changed that however. It wasn’t known at the time, but a young filly survived the attacks. Our reports state that she either moved to this town, or at the very least passed by on her way to parts unknown.”

“...and that’s why you’ve come to Ponyville,” Rarity said, understanding now.

“That’s right.” I replied.

“Well, do you have some sort of physical profile darling? What she looks like? What color her coat is? How old she would be now?”

“Well...I don’t know. None of those things were ever discovered. All I know is that the pony’s a filly.”

“Well, sounds to me like you might be shooting blindfolded. There bust me hundreds of lone fillies in this town...” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there darling.”

She’s right; this is going to be hell... I groaned.

Rarity suddenly smiled at me. She gently and gracefully levitated both my duster and armor along behind her as she walked. “I'm guessing you want to keep this duster as a memento of your fallen friend, yes?”

“That’s the idea.” I said rather quickly.

“Well, not to worry then! I'll make this duster brand new, just you wait! In the meantime darling, why don't you go out and start gathering some clues? By the sound of it, you have a lot of work ahead of yourself.”

“Yeah, I do, don’t I...” I whispered.

I walked up to my saddlebags to go over my belongings, wondering what I should take with me. That’s when I realized that I hadn’t yet found an inn to stay at while I was in town for the duration of the investigation.

How could you have forgotten one of the most important things?! I scolded myself.

Sighing, I picked up my bags, and was about to put them on when Rarity suddenly pipped up again. She was already deep in her work, so it came as a slight shock.

"Oh darling, you don't need to drag your things around town like some kind of vagrant! Leave them here, they'll be quite safe.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I’d rather have my things with me.”

“Are you sure?” Rarity asked, “The town is rather large, and we don’t have a bus system.”

“That’s fine, really,” I lied. “I’ll just, you know, carry all my crap around.” I groaned and whispered, “That’s what I get for not renting a room.”

“Do you have a place to stay at least?” she asked all of a sudden.

“Well...” I choked. Damn! did she hear me? “Actually... well, you see-”

“You don’t have a place to stay the night, do you?” Rarity interrupted me, sounding dead serious.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“If that’s the case then I will have to insist you stay the night as my guest.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” she said with a smile, “you are staying the night as my guest.”

“No I’m not” I said in a rather angry tone. “I’ll rent a room, a-”

“Darling!” Rarity interrupted me once again, turning to look at me with a slightly angry glare. “You are staying the night as my guest; end of story,” she said sternly before going back to her work.

This... this is new...

“Now, run along and get to work. The sooner you find this pony of yours, the faster you can enjoy Ponyville’s luxuries.”

"Fine…" I said with some resentfulness, feeling as if I was being treated like a foal rather than a stallion.

Putting both saddlebags on the floor again, I took out a smaller pouch that I could tie around my neck. I grabbed Negotiator and its holster, a medium sized notepad to write on and my badge, and stuffed all of it into the pouch before turning back to Rarity one more time.

I was scowling already. Free board and a suit repair, all without so much a mention of money... either this Rarity is quite the generous mare, or this is going to cost me several limbs...

I made my way out of the boutique. As I walked down the road leading from Rarity's home and shop, I began to feel strange about her attitude. She and I…we were kind of alike. Either fate was playing with me, or...

No, it couldn't be; it was just a bunch of extremely convenient coincidences. Yeah, coincidences...

Then again, in my line of work, coincidences didn't happen too often.

Maybe I was over thinking things - it wouldn’t be the first or last time either. Still, something about Rarity struck me as odd, and it wasn't because she could get personal information out of my clothes... It was something else, something more meaningful...more cryptic…

No matter; I had a job to do. I set my sights on the first pony I saw and walked up to her, notepad floating next to my head, ready to jot down whatever information I could get.

Ponyville - 12:35 PM

Thread by thread, stitching it together! Pass the needle trough that loop, make sure it goes through that grove there... Just a little more... there! Now just one last pass... Almost got it... there! Perfection!

Raising the now fully stitched duster up to the light, I smiled with glee at my accomplishment. It might have taken about three hours to finish, and I might have gone just a little bit overboard – having added several ceramic pads that now rested around the shoulders and backside of the coat, dying the duster black after finding its original color quickly fading, and replacing some of the original cotton lining with Kevlar weave – but none of that mattered one bit. This was what I lived for: the art of the dress!

“Bogart is sure to say a thing or two about the color, but once he hears what went into it, he'll be groveling at my feet in gratitude, and I haven't even started on his armor yet! Oh how he'll worship me after this is over!”

Now Rarity, keep calm and don't get overly excited before the job is done! The duster took three hours, and that was a simple patch job. The armor is damaged and quite worn out; you'll have to replace almost all its components.

“But of course! Bogart deserves armor worthy of his job; he's a Regulator, and he must be well protected if he is to keep everyone else protected.

Let's see then, what kind of plating should I use? Something light yet durable, flexible yet robust, warm yet cool…”

Rarity, why are you even thinking about it? Use the mithril ore you found the other day!

“That would take hours to smelt, and Bogart could be back at any minute!”

But he'll have his duster, right? Besides, re-forging his riot gear from the ground up is a good way of making sure he sticks around for a while.

“Yes, Bogart is a rather handsome fellow isn't he? He seems a little shy and insecure about himself, but I'm sure he just needs a good friend to ease him into a more sociable lifestyle...

Wait, what am I thinking? Bogart would never go for a mare like me. No one would ever go for someone like me, not after what I’ve done...”

Don't think like that Rarity; you of all people should know that the past is the past.

“That may be true, but some wounds are just too deep to heal. I promised I would never allow myself to fall in love, and I intend to stick with that resolution.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, rebuilding Bogart's riot gear! Let's see now… It's quite lightweight, but it provides almost no defense. It's dirty and quite an eyesore. If it was up to me, I would just toss this in the trash….

Why of course! Bogart only cares about the duster; he never said anything about the armor! I'll toss it away and…”

Give him your own armor?

“I could do that… I mean, I have no further use for it; the war's been over for five years now. But I don't think he'll like it much… I mean, it has Civil Protection's logo on it, and not many people like to remember what they did…”

The past is the past Rarity, you can't live in regret. You might have made things that hurt quite a lot of ponies, but it wasn’t as though you were given much of a choice in the matter.        

“No… I can't let Bogart see that cursed suit; I can't let anypony see that cursed suit.”

You know full-well the suit isn't the cause of your shame. After all, a suit is only a suit; it's the wearer that people hate, and nobody hates you. On the contrary, everyone loves you and your work! You have a promising career that allows you to do what you love! What more can you ask for?

“Absolution…”

I sighed, slumping on the table. I could feel tears building up in my eyes. It's true that I had everything a pony could ever want… but the one thing I wanted more than anything else seemed beyond my grasp.

I stood up and looked at myself in the nearest mirror.

Five years ago, I had dedicated myself to forging weapons of war. It hadn’t really been a choice, but it did save me from fighting in the front lines.

Making weapons hadn’t been difficult at all, and forging armor was virtually the same as creating dresses, except the materials were a tad more difficult to work with. Overall, working for Civil Protection had netted both myself and Sweetie Belle recognition and fame.

But neither of those could change the fact that my weapons had been used to slaughter the innocent while the murderers hid behind my armor. To this day, my reputation still precedes me; a reputation that I am bitterly divided over.

On the one hoof, my name is quite well known in all the upper circles. The rich and influential come to me for protection, and I have delivered every single time.

On the other hoof, my work carries the stigma of the war. I no longer make weapons, but when I did they were greedily sought after; the quality of my weapons spoke volumes - more than I could have predicted.

No, I was getting worked up over trivialities. The past is past. I no longer make weapons, and I hoped to never have to touch my gunsmithing tools ever again.

I looked at Bogart's armor and made up my mind. I wouldn't toss it away; I would re-forge it and make it stronger than before.

“Yes! I am Rarity Diamant, the most prolific fashion designer in Ponyville! I have no need to recall the past; only the here and now matters, and I have a job to get done!”

Ponyville - 2:36 PM

Well Bogart, it's been about five hours now, and you haven't even filled up a half-page of information. You're getting sloppy, very sloppy...

I sighed as yet another pony finished recounting her life's story for me.

The gray pegesus’ name was Ditzy Doo, the town’s mail courier. Her most striking feature was that neither of her eyes seemed capable of focusing on one thing for too long and their constant shifting back and forth was enough to make me feel dizzy.

Her mane was a lively blond color; her coat and wings were lightly faded, likely due to a combination of sunlight and age. Finally, I noticed her cutie mark, or rather, what would have been her cutie mark if there hadn’t been gnarled scar tissue covering most of her flank. I could just barely make out what had once been a trio of bubbles on the very edge of the large patch of scarred skin; my hunch told me that this pegasus had tried to remove her own cutie mark.

I might look into this. I just can’t imagine what sort of madness could drive such a pretty pegasus to commit such a drastic act...

I closed my notepad, signaling the end of the ‘interrogation.’ The pegasus had kept a carefree smile throughout the questioning, one that wouldn’t seem too strange to the average equine, but I wasn’t the average equine. I was a Regulator. She didn’t know it, but I had seen through her facade. Her smile, while not necessarily forced, it definitely served to hide a deep sadness.

Her story was incomplete, disjointed and forced. Not once did she make a single mention of her scar or how she might have gotten it.

She was still hiding something, but I didn’t press any further on the details. I didn’t want to deal with sentimental mares this early on.

Ditzy reached into her saddlebag and produced a muffin, which she offered to me with a smile. She then started telling me how there was nothing more nutritious and joyous than a good muffin.

I took the baked good out of politeness and smiled. I hadn’t noticed it until now, but judging from the sun’s position, it was nearly lunch time, and I was starting to get hungry. I always lost track of time while questioning the general populace; it was the reason I disliked doing it.

My stomach suddenly growled, prompting me to start eating the muffin.

I still felt hungry after I had finished it. I looked at Ditzy and asked her where I could get more.

She pointed westward, telling me of a shop called ‘Sugarcube Corner.’ She told me to follow the road, go through the shopping district, and finally make a left. I would eventually reach the bakery, a building made to look like a gingerbread house. She smiled as she begun to tell me about the kinds of pastries they made, and how delicious each one was.

Before Ditzy had the chance to flap her gums anymore, I thanked her with a firm hoofshake. She looked a little dejected at first, but she smiled nonetheless. She waved goodbye and walked away.

As Ditzy moved out of earshot, the strong urge to scream in frustration suddenly filled me. It was almost overpowering, and it took every ounce of self control to keep myself from doing so.

It seemed like the entire town doesn’t know anything about an older filly or young mare moving in or passing through in the last two years. For her to manage it without anypony noticing would have been impossible. So either everypony is pretending not to know, or they don’t want to know...

Why do I get the feeling they’re lying to me? Well, I guess it wouldn’t be any fun if finding her was easy! I thought as I rolled my eyes.

Maybe I was going about this the wrong way... Maybe I needed to speak to somepony with authority. If anypony was going to have the information I needed, it would probably be somepony with power.

Bogart! You Idiot! Instead of focusing on the small fish, you should have gone for the bigger ones first!

Putting a hoof to my face I sighed. Me and my habit of starting small... “I’m a freaking Regulator! I can walk up to any freaking authority figure and demand they tell me what they know!” I said loudly. I looked around for a bit, and spotted a guard. His blue and gold uniform told me he was a patrol pony. He wouldn’t know much, but he was bound to know something.

I didn't waste any time. I quickly trotted towards him, and before he could register it, I had shoved my Regulator badge in front of his face.

“Now that I’ve got your attention,” I said, “I need some answers.”

The guard looked at me, clearly confused.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about this town’s civilian records.”

The guard said nothing. I tried asking him about the town’s layout, population size, even strange occurrences. He didn’t say a thing. Every question I asked was met with complete and utter silence.

Before I could ask anything else, the guard walked away as if our conversation had never taken place.

Without even thinking about it, I stood up on my back legs and struck the nearest wall with my left forehoof. Not a great idea in retrospect.

I grabbed hold of my hoof, gritting my teeth. “Son of a flying-” I didn’t finish the curse as I let out a painful yell. My hoof had started to throb already.

I looked around and everypony seemed to be going about their business in a more casual fashion than the norm, seemingly ignoring me and anything I did.

“It’s almost as if they don’t care.” I said, “They’re ignorant and-” I scoffed. “Sheep...” I whispered, “Ignorant sheep, lining up for the slau-” I took a deep breath instead of finishing the thought.

No point in getting pissed, it won’t help the cause. It won’t get me the answers I need. Relax...keep cool...

As I looked at the oblivious populace, I couldn’t help but feel there was something that was off about this town. These ponies, they were hiding something, something important…

Whatever it is, I’m going to find out, one way or another.

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