Umbra walked casually down the streets of Canterlot; she had donned her all too familiar disguise once more, Amethyst Amoire. Today wasn’t a tactful espionage at a dinner party; in fact, today was more so a business visit with a certain Lawyer’s office.

Silverbit had a reputation in dealing with the classy, and this is where her former regality shined. Other methods had proven… ineffective, in extracting the information she wanted. Initially, she browsed his home at night for incriminating evidence, and yet all she could come up with there were a variety of letters and complaints addressed to a multitude of agencies and individuals. Most of which were over the most trivial of matters; if there was an offense, he took it.

She assumed that being argumentative came from his history of being a talented, generalist lawyer. He had a wide scope on his craft, and he used it to an expert level to twist and strongarm the world into fitting his vision; or more commonly, his clients visions.

And one set of clients were particularly vile in nature; the stray Seraphs of Leotoln’s army. At least, not them directly - but he assuredly had a hoof in the distribution of the land title deeds used to house the abundant lightning towers, the sentencing of less than honest workers on their way out of prison, and of course sweeping dirty money under the rug - the list of crimes he was surely guilty of far outweighed any positive notions he granted society as a whole. If there were any to begin with.

If only she had the proof. And the last place she could reasonably check… was his law firm. Typically, she’d stop by in the dead of night, snip a few strings - and call it when her hooves clutched something incriminating. But there was a problem with that notion.

He had more hired thugs than the Castle had Guards. She had a few inklings why - when he basically used them as brute force to get his way, at any given time. A pony wanted help with a case? They would instead have plentiful help with the door, if they lacked the coin to back their request. Investigators snooping? A broken nose and charges for trespassing were common.

She needed a two fold plan, and the right idea came to mind when she ruffled through his garbage for information. Besides the fact that he had… strange tastes in food, he also had a cat. A cat she now held fast asleep in her overly gaudy purse-satchel, that bobbed at her side with each step. Not her usual choice in a bag, but it fit the role she required nicely.

The key here was to avoid detection while placing her bait. A clearing on the sidewalk gave her a moment to slip down an alley - just out of sight of any witnesses and security that might grow curious.

She peaked an inch over the stone brick wall, spotting the old stallion hammering away at a typewriter. His brow was furrowed in frustration, undoubtedly threatening legal action against the nearest bush or… whatever wronged him that day.

Preoccupied as he was, and with few eyes to catch her in the act - she stealthily lifted the house pet in her temporarily purple magic. Gently, ever so slowly - she brought the cat up and over towards a nearby tree.

With the purring feline happy on a branch, she cleared her throat and withdrew a massive, gaudy jewel necklace - something the element of Generosity would surely adore. It clipped on with ease, a vial of lipstick circling her lips as shades settled over her eyes. Soon, she wore a light summer dress, a soft purple to accent her gray.

Now, the hard part. Pretending to enjoy a conversation with the most insufferable pony in the world.

She approached the firm with a sway to her hips, two stern looking stallions standing idly at the door; a strap against their chest and a pair of shades each, staring her down. She nodded her head with a simple ‘Gentlemen’ before slipping inside unmolested.

She found herself in a mostly marble lobby, fake plastic plants and smooth jazz echoing from a small record player to her left. The chairs and decor were rather drab, but they served their purpose - and probably hadn’t been replaced in decades. Misers were sharp with their coin, after all.

Approaching the reception, Umbra dressed down the plump lady before her with her eyes. She tilted her head forward, fake purple irises catching hers before she spoke with mild disdain.

“Give me Silverbit. I have urgent legal matters to discuss, and make it snappy. Well? What is he paying you for? Just to gawk? Move,” she snapped, with an annoyed flick of her ears. The exasperated chubby mare restrained herself from rolling her eyes, clopping down the hallway haughtily.

She returned moments later with Silverbit in tow, still fuming over whatever issues had bothered him at breakfast. “Ma’am, I don’t believe we have an appointment, do we?”

“Appointments are for the poor, and I am not part of that rabble. I’m looking to divorce my husband and sue for custody of our colt, and I need a talented lawyer to rob him dry.” She used her twinking purple horn to heft a massive bag of… well, rocks from her saddle-purse, before dropping it carelessly back inside. They jingled just like coins, thanks to a little enchantment - and Silverbit was none the wiser.

His eyes nearly flashed with cheer as his mood shifted to money. “Oh! Yes yes, of course - appointments aren’t needed for you, Miss?...”

“Amethyst Amoire, heir to the Rolling Gold Fortune,” she stated her alias with dignity, brushing past the old stallion with indifference. “Don’t waste my time. Move your hooves, or I will move them for you.”

“Cherry, clear my two o’clock immediately - if he wants to challenge the possession of his yacht so badly, he could afford my retainer.” He nodded to the rotund mare, who sighed and rolled her eyes. She really wasn’t paid enough for this. He simply refused to retire, and pass the firm down to his son - who was slightly less terrible than him.

Silverbit hobble-rushed to meet Miss ‘Amethyst’ at his office, clicking the handle for her and inviting her inside. She brushed past him like any regal mare would, not once uttering her thanks.

Finding her seat in front of his desk, her eyes worked double time to check the assorted ledgers and books on the wall behind his chair; the office was cozy for sure, a mahogany desk breaking the massive row of shelves behind in twain. He lacked filing cabinets here; he had a thing for beauty in his work, and he meticulously organized his tomes to match his collected demeanor.

The old stallion’s chair creaked as he took his familiar position at his desk, pushing his typewriter to the side. “I’m happy you chose to visit me today, Amethyst-”

“Miss Amoire, I do not spit your name with disgrace, you will not mouth mine with impunity.” The stallion slid back a bit at the intimidation; it wasn’t often he would falter, but something about Umbra’s piercing glare had that effect on ponies, even when hidden behind a pair of shades.

“Yes yes, my apologies Miss Amoire. May I ask, who recommended me to you? Surely you may afford me some simple pleasantries?”

Umbra froze for a split second; she didn’t expect this question. In a list of ‘things she would be asked’, ‘who referred her’ didn’t come up. And it’s not like she had a massive repertoire of names to work with, either.

“A friend at the Topaz Jewels soiree, just the other night. He seemed keen on recommending you in particular, for reasons he deemed ‘explicit’.”

“Oh, but of course Madam - my apologies. Now-”

Meow.

“As I was saying, I’m happy you chose me, I have an extensive history in divorce-”

Meow!

“...Divorce proceedings, with a success rate of-”

MEOW!

His head darted to his left, eyes making contact with his cat in the tree. Immediately, he bolted to his hooves, gasping. “Mr. Snookums!” he barked, his rolling chair clattering against the bookshelf.

“If you’ll excuse me one moment - Daddy is coming, sweetie!” he called, hobble-clopping his way to the door, seizing his cane along the way. The door clicked shut behind him, and instantly, Umbra set to work.

The first thing she did was ignore the back wall - too obvious. A stallion like SIlverbit had things to hide, and the obvious wouldn’t jump up and bite her like it did at the Topaz Jewels estate. Her horn glowed its natural green, tugging quickly - yet quietly - at wooden drawers. Pens, pencils, a single crayon - papers and empty forums, useful things for a lawyer perhaps, but…

This drawer was too shallow. She hefted the several journals and folders from the bottom, giving the wood a knock. Definitely hollow - and thin, too. She tilted her head to the left - the right, looking for a keyhole. Her hoof sliding over the bottom until she felt the small circle. A flash of her horn, and without even seeing it - it clicked, the false bottom popping open an inch.

Her magic raised the thin wood, lifting four small journals. She didn’t have time to read too deep into them - a couple flicks to make sure she grabbed the right books, and her horn flashed. Four duplicates were dumped in the drawer unceremoniously, a camera slipping free of the satchel on her left to take a picture of the books - and the fake drawer - before stuffing the assorted junk back into place.

Her ears swiveled to the door, the faint chatter of the babbling Silverbit echoing through. He bounced ‘Mr. Snookums’ up and down, babbling in baby talk to the small calico cat.

She clicked the handle out of his office with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, Miss Amoire, I’m sorry for the delay-” he began, but she quickly shut him down.

“Apparently my money has no value to you, Silverbit. I was wrong to trust just a single testimonial. You lack the professional attitude I desire to assure my winnings. As for you, Cherry-”

She lowered her glasses, staring into the pink mare with her emerald green eyes. “You need to work on your greetings. Good day to you both.”

With a flick of her shades, she stomped her way out of the door. Miss Cherry watching her go with hesitation. Were… were her eyes always green? They were purple, weren’t they?

“Of course. First, the trash stallion refused to take my old sofa - and now, I lose my payday.” With a sigh, he set his sleepy kitty on his shoulders - stomping back to his office to concentrate.

“Sir?...” Cherry called after her boss, the older stallion clacking his cane in the doorway.

“Yes yes - just uncancel the appointment. Whatever! I’ll get his yacht back if it will line my pockets,” he said, waving his cane at her.

“No, not that… that mare. Her eyes changed color, I’m pretty sure,” she said down the hallway, confused.

Silverbit’s heart dropped, a cold chill running up his body. Without another word, he closed the door shut behind him - canter-wobbling his way to his desk. His cat jumped onto the papers gathered, narrowly missing the inkwell there.

He immediately ripped the right drawer out of his desk, slipping a key from his belt to rattle the lock. The false drawer popped, revealing four small journals.

Gray, red, blue, green. That… was wrong. Red, blue, green, gray. Always red blue green gray. RBGG. He would never put them in any other order but that.

With a turn of his chair, his horn glowed and dragged the typewriter forward, forcing Mr. Snookums to jump out of the way.

‘Dear Sir Topaz Jewels, I request your knowledge on a certain mare who apparently attended your private Gala just the other day… perhaps one with a nose too keen for my liking…’

Umbra sighed, tossing the gaudy jewelry and roughly cleaning the makeup from her muzzle. She felt like a jester in that gitup; a fool. But, a successful one - as the King’s ransom was now hers. Now, all she had to do was find her way to the castle. A dropoff of the last few documents, and Canterlot would have the resources to make a full bust on their entire operation.

In truth, she cared little for the logistics of it all. The real reward was seeing a plan come together; a piece of tyranny unwound. She found it… satisfying, now, to actually play against those who deserved it. Her keen eye for detail was a beautiful tool, one she refined over a thousand years of lurking, study, and practice.

Curious, she turned her eye to her bare flank. Despite all of her success, as a hero - a force of good, she still felt hollow. Like pieces of her life had yet to fall in place. She had friends now. Actual friends. Arin was by far the closest - but Vee, Vapor Cloud, Honey Rose, she could even say Celestia and Luna had accepted her at their table. But… she wanted to be complete. Whole. And it was hard to claim you were happy when you lacked a destiny.

“Ah, Umbra. Just who I was looking for,” Tempest said, catching her in the hall. “And in good timing, too, I take it. I always seem to catch ponies when they have thoughts left untapped.”

Umbra lifted her tired head from the floor, giving a short nod. “A good eye to see such weakness.”

The wine colored Unicorn gave a soft, methodical laugh, stepping by her side. “Needing a friend isn't weakness, Umbra. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but one I think I took to heart. Now tell me. What’s on your mind?”

Perking up at the pleasant company, she confided in the redeemed Unicorn. “I feel… hollow. Incomplete. While I have accomplished much, I lack a purpose beyond a tool. And it is… I will not say unbefitting; it is disheartening. I feel as if I have no destiny. A cutiemark is what makes a pony whole, yet…”

Tempest coughed, rolling her eyes to her own flank. “Forgetting something?”

But of course. She wasn’t the only one without a mark. “Perhaps for a moment, yes.”

Tempest’s mind slipped away from talk to concentrate, trying to think of a way to approach this situation. She was not Twilight, that was for certain - and this needed some kind of tact. Even if she wasn’t entirely convinced about ‘friendship’ and the works, it did play its part.

“I’ve been an outcast for as long as I can remember. I’m never going to scratch your age, but… I’ve felt that same pain. I’ve buried it, and tried to hide it - and it never goes away. You really can’t just… magically cure it. But, I’ve learned that the friendships I make can help alleviate it. Or… something.” She waved her hoof in a circle, trying to imitate the Purple alicorn in some way.

It… didn’t really work. But Umbra chuckled regardless.

“...And I thought that my grasp of friendship was weak. Perhaps I am not as far gone as I believed. Thank you, Tempest. You have been a boon.”

“You’re… uh. Welcome. Yes.” The wine mare gave an unsure smile, contemplating whether she should be offended or not. “I’m still learning. I’ve always been a skeptic on friendship, along with many other things - so whatever I share with you is a work in progress.”

“It is still pleasant that you put forward the effort. I am patient. My time will come, and I will find my place in the world. Perhaps when the Solar Princess returns, she may have ideas that could aid my journey. I do wish to be… ‘normal’ one day. Whatever that may entail.” They reached the war room’s door, Tempest turning to face the mysterious mare.

“Umbra, normal isn’t what the public thinks, but it’s what your friends accept. Oh! That was a good attempt on my part. I’ll have to share that with Twilight later, after I finish my job hunt.” The former Commander gave a confident smirk, holding the door open for the gray mare. “Maybe I’ll have a little more luck when Arin brings the Princess home.”

Umbra stopped in the doorway, a tinge of sadness making her lock eyes with Tempest. “If,” she said, before vanishing inside. The click of the door followed, leaving Tempest alone - save for the sparse few guards that patrolled the halls.

“Yes… right. If. If Celestia and Arin return.”