Spring of Year 1
Day 1

I’ve been thinking to myself, for quite some time, of how to start such a daunting task as maintaining a personal journal. Such an idea never crossed my mind before, and so much of my life’s little experiences have been lost to my memory; enough that I struggle to decide on what there is left to write about. Never the less, I’ll do my best to start from the beginning.

Before I start, I’d like to thank the lovely unicorn that offered me this journal. I wouldn’t be sure of what I’d use my time for otherwise. My life is a solemn one. I devote this first entry to that young mare’s kindness.

The beginning. Right. My name is Blank Slate, a pegasus born and raised in the bustling, chaotic city that was Manehatten, before moving to my new home here in the peaceful hillside of Ponyville. As of this writing, I’m twenty-five years old. I am a brown pegasus pony in healthy form, and looking currently for employment opportunities here in town. I enjoy having guests, but usually prefer the company of a newspaper and a cup of coffee to ease my nerves. I’m afraid that I don’t have many friends, or even acquaintances here in Ponyville, nor in Manehatten, but ponies here are kind. I’m sure I’ll be making friends in no time at all.

My foalhood was a difficult one. I wasn’t the brightest pony in my class, nor was I the most popular. My grades were about average and I would go mostly unnoticed by everypony unless specifically called upon from the roll call. I was particularly nervous about other ponies, being where I lived. My family struggled to stay afloat in the high speed mode of life that Manehatten absolutely demanded from its ponies, and being of the lower class, we weren’t always safe from the slums of the city.

Muggings and theft would occur in the neighborhood. I stayed inside most of my days in fear of what could happen to me if I happened to bump into the wrong pony at the wrong time. My parents shared this sentiment, keeping me occupied with my homework and keeping the house clean with my mother. It wasn’t the best environment, but I was always grateful for it regardless. There were many ponies that shambled around the city in desperate need for a home, and though I’d avoid eye contact for the same reasons as above, and as harsh as it sounds to just think it, let alone write it, those homeless ponies helped me to appreciate what I had.

My mother and father worked in the city. Mother worked as a seamstress in a shoddy little factory downtown, while father was a construction worker who helped build the skyscrapers that ponies see now as the pinnacle of Manehatten design. They weren’t the fanciest jobs, but I was proud of my family. They worked hard.

Without my family to help me out at school, especially in case something went terribly wrong, I was forced to rely solely on my instincts to judge whether or not the others would jump on me at any moment. The teachers didn’t particularly seem to care about my anxiety when dealing with the other foals.

I ate. I slept. I studied. Those were the three facets of my life. When I had the free time, my mother would take me to work, to watch after me, and so that I could lend her a hoof whenever it was requested. Her boss was grateful for the volunteer work. Though rarely, he’d even hand me a bit for my troubles. Looking back at it now, I can’t help but appreciate what he did. Having my own source of income so early on helped me understand the value of money. I treasured every coin.

Days passed without much deviance. As my class grew with the long months, the next step in our lives started to crop up. Cutie marks, one by one, started appearing on the flanks of all of the students in the room. As more ponies attained their destiny, I couldn’t help but feel like I was falling further and further behind, and the empty spot on my flank only hammered that idea deep into my mind.

Most students were punished for bullying those without their marks, but it still didn’t completely stop the harassment. As a part of a shrinking group of these ‘blank flanks,’ I was tormented about my lack of a cutie mark, and the bigger the group of ponies that had marks became, the more harsh the teasing was. Eventually, the group of blanks shrank to just me and one other pony.

Though we didn’t befriend one another for our inability to find our marks, we bound ourselves closer to each other in the classroom, in hopes that maybe as two, we could endure the punishment just a little bit longer.

Those days were rough. Mother and father would console me back at home, but the constant reminder of my empty flank carved a wound deep in my heart. I felt empty. Useless. A target for the sick pleasure of the other foals in my classroom.

I grew horribly ill one day. I don’t remember too much, but my mother told me that I would occasionally pass out from fatigue during my sickness. It lasted for an entire week, and it forced my mother to stay home to look after me. Times grew worse in that period.

I had become so frustrated with it all, but on the last day of my sickness, I was blinded by a sharp light in the middle of the night. My mother and father came running to my room, afraid that somepony had managed to break their way into the house, and upon finding me in bed, we all quickly realized that my flank was no longer empty.

I had a cutie mark. It was a large, imposing stone, one that took up most of my backside. It was shaped like a rock tablet, ready for words to be etched into it.

My cutie mark still bothers me to this day. I grew up understanding that when one attains their cutie mark, that a sense of overwhelming truth and understanding sweeps through them. The sudden clarity of one’s destiny being the end result of finding one’s mark. I hold that on that night, when I received my very own cutie mark, that I felt no such feelings swell up inside me. I failed to tell anypony this out of sheer humiliation. What kind of pony receives a cutie mark without knowing why? It made no sense to me then, and it makes no sense to me now.

The teasing at school, to my disappointment, ceased to end. I was no longer the colt that had a blank flank. I was, instead, the pony in class with the rock on his ass. I’m still unsure of which was more harsh to endure between the two. As a blank flank, I had the discovery of knowing who I was meant to be to look forward to. It would come, I just had to endure. With the slate of stone on my flank, and with no clue that could help me to decipher its hidden meaning, I could only venture a guess as to what exactly my cutie mark was, and why it was there.

Teased because I was still a foal, or teased because I couldn’t figure out the truth behind my mark. It was miserable.

I was far more than glad when I was finally able to escape from that dreadful city…

The large front doors to the Agency cracked open, long enough for two ponies to quickly make it through. They shut the entrance behind them and looked around. It was in the later hours of the evening, made clear by the night that was swallowing up the last rays of sun through the windows. A few remaining detectives at the Agency were trotting about to their offices and desks, eager to wrap up their investigations before heading back home.

One detective stopped, looking at the two ponies who had entered. She smiled, waving to the cobalt colt before leaving eyesight.

“Mysty’s shroud didn’t make us invisible I suppose,” Locks’ eyes darted across the room. He motioned towards Amy, who had taken to hovering just above the floor, with a flick of his hoof. “But it doesn’t look like Steele informed any of them about our break. That’s fortunate for us.”

Amy tweeted back a response, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

“Good point. This assignment wasn’t even opened to the rest of the Agency. As far as they know, we’re still free agents.” Locks started a relaxing trot to the back end of the room, making a beeline for Steele’s office.

Entering the all-too-familiar hallway that lead to the three rooms at the end, Locks’ focused his thoughts on his boss’ office. His legs were anxiously shaking with each step, the detective sure that eventually, they would buckle under the weight of what he and Amy were doing.

He felt a reassuring nudge from the large pegasus next to him.

“Sorry Amy,” he whispered. “I’m still just trying to register that we’re breaking into his room. It’s not something I ever imagined I’d be doing.”

She shared her sentiment with a quiet whistle.

They stopped at the front of the door. The glass that Mysty had shattered was already repaired, the door itself in mint condition. He grabbed the knob and turned it hastily, not surprised that it refused to give him access to the office. “Amy, stand back,” he asked, focusing his eyes on the door. The ruby color of his irises glistened, shining a hue brighter as he brought his head back around, looking up at the ceiling and down the hallway like a camera.

“The door is magic-locked. The moment someone breaks it off the hinge, it trips the alarm,” he sighed. “I also checked the surrounding area in the event that we do screw up. There’s only a handful of guardians still hanging about. A lot of the detectives are leaving already.” He turned to his companion, “Amy, can you guard the door?”

She nodded her head, planting herself directly behind him, facing towards the hallway.

“I think I can get around the barrier, but in case I don’t, I’m going to need time to get in and grab the bottle. Just make sure to keep anypony from coming in, alright?”

Curiously, she turned her head, blowing a note towards her partner.

“Don’t worry about that,” Locks smirked, “unlocking doors is my special talent. I’ll need the letter too.”

Amy nodded, handing over a sealed envelope. Locks grabbed it in his mouth, muffling out a “Thanks” before turning back towards the door.

He brushed his black mane aside, letting his eyes rest on the door. They continued to glow, pulsing brighter with every passing second. He could see everything lingering in the air, everything that the untrained, ignorant eye couldn’t even dream of. Squinting, he saw a mist of soft blue, gently waving against the surface of the door. It floated carelessly, absent of a physical form.

“There’s the disposition,” Locks smiled. He raised his hoof, letting it rest against the door. The material spread around his hoof, surrounding it with a delicate touch. “Magic is always made from disposition,” his eyes continued to throb with unknown energy. “Spells from a unicorn stay linked with the unicorn until the spell stops, unless the chain is intentionally broken from an outside source.”

The mist around him suddenly reacted, jerking against an unseen invader. “Magical locks like these run off of a limited source of magic that is self-contained.” The door shuddered, another hoof resting against the frame. Locks’ gaze turned into a harsh glare against the wispy material. It thrashed helplessly, shrinking into itself over time. “But the spell’s properties stay the same, including the disposition that was used to set it off.”

The door lock clicked, causing Amy’s ears to flick. She winced, waiting for an alarm to blare out. Nothing but silence welcomed them as the door slowly creaked open.

Locks followed the last few strands of magic as they evaporated into the air. “If you can change the slightest value within the disposition, then you can destroy that spell with ease.”

“Stay here,” he told his assistant. He walked past the threshold, feeling the darkness in the room encompass his body. The lights were all off, save for a tiny, faint source coming from a small lamp on Steele’s desk. It failed to illuminate anything several inches away from itself, leaving most of the office shrouded in shadows. The window behind his boss’ chair was shut, with thick drapes blocking much of the fading sunlight from outside. The sound of his hooves against the floor kept him company while he made his way towards Steele’s desk. Several spare papers and documents were left hanging on the surface, one even resting on the chair.

Struggling to remember where Steele had placed the bottle, Locks walked around the desk, moving the chair out of the way. His hooves blindly reached out for the drawers, pulling each one open. The noise caused his ears to flicker, his movements slowing to a crawl to avoid any unwanted attention.

His eyes started to glow in the darkness. His head turned from one slot on the desk to another. His senses tracked down the familiar sense he had from unlocking the door, this time, catching the wisp of a flowing, magical essence that crawled around Steele’s desk. Locks’ hooves reached down into one of the drawers, pulling it open and hearing a delicate clack of glass. Reaching into it, he pulled out a small bottle, one that felt the same size as the one Steele had used when he put Amy and Locks on probation. The essence flowing about the bottle all but confirmed that the detective had found what he was looking for.

“Just a flick of the magic on the letter, and we’ll be done,” he turned back to the door. Amy didn’t react, her attention focused primarily on the hallway outside.

The door immediately slammed shut.

Locks jumped, the noise loud enough to echo down the hall. He gasped, his eyes pulsing as he took a look around. “Did I trip a barrier? No, I don’t see one inside…”

He saw the silhouette of a jumpy pegasus on the outside of the door’s window. Grabbing the bottle, he quickly ran towards the frame, leaning up against it.

“Relax, Amy! Just keep a lookout outside,” he ordered, turning back to face what he perceived to be the emptiness of the office. A sudden chill swept by him, his ears finally registering a second set of hooves sneaking around the room.

A small aura of orange magic fizzled from the tip of a barely visible horn. “This is quite the interesting development, isn’t it Locky?”

“Jessica,” Locks’ grip on the bottle and envelope tightened. “What are you doing here?”

The spell at the tip of her horn erupted. The form of the wicked black mare zipped across the room in the blink of an eye. Locks reared up on his hind legs, feeling the witch’s breath against his muzzle. Magic erupted around him, wrapping around his four legs. With a grunt, Jessica Scrawl ripped the bottle from his clutches. It fell to the ground, clacking as it rolled towards the foot of the desk.

Locks’ body was then lifted into the air before getting hurled across the room. He bounced against the bookcase on the other end, forcing several uneven tombs to tumble over on his body. The detective reached around, sighing in relief when he felt the letter still held in one of his hooves.

Another wave of magic came crashing up against him. He tensed up, feeling a powerful force drag him against the floor before stopping in the center of the room. He felt his hooves being stretched away from his body. He pulled up and placed the envelope in his mouth before the magic intensified, forcing his four legs to spread out against the ground.

Her lithe figure pounced upon his body, hair slowly dragging down and draping over Locks’ face, effectively functioning as a curtain that blocked out the rest of the room. He looked up, greeting a pair of sharp, orange eyes and carnivorous, white fangs.

A sly chuckle came from her mouth, her horn’s aura fading away. Her body plopped down against Locks, her light weight still enough to force some air from his lungs. Her tail curled up against his own, her legs tangling up against him. She lowered herself closer, stopping when their muzzles touched against each other.

“I could ask you the same question, Locky,” Jessica Scrawl cooed. “I heard that Flex slapped you two on the hoof earlier today. What gives?”

Locks tried to pull away from her face, but being pinned against the floor and her body proved the effort to be meaningless. “Is this one of Steele’s precautions? He set you up to this?”

The magical bonds wrapped around his legs increased their grip with the glow of her horn. Locks hissed as the spell dug underneath his coat, forcing a larger grin on the mare’s face. She slowly let up, breaking the contact that their muzzles made.

“Entirely voluntary, sexy,” she sung. “I figured you and Amy would do something crazy after seeing how pissy Mrs. Justis was back home. Even a half-rate detective could’ve figured that one out.”

Locks narrowed his eyes. “You’re telling me that Steele has no idea that you’re here?”

She shook her head, her mane delicately bouncing with each swoop. “And spoil my fun? Of course not.”

“Then you realize that we’re both in trouble if we get caught together.” Locks’ eyes glistened. “Your disposition is nearly contaminating the air in here. You’d be singled out in an instant.”

Another chill came through the room. Locks winced, feeling the bite of the winter air flowing through his coat, brushing up against his face with the ferocity that the chilling temperatures of the season brought forth. His crimson eyes twitched, a sweeping realization slamming into him as he was so violently smashed against the bookcase:

The window sitting behind Steele’s chair was completely shut. They were at the opposite end of the Agency as well, ruling out any possibility that somepony had left the doors open, even just a crack.

The freezing sensation swept through his body, his eyes searching desperately for the source of the mysterious feeling. They traveled back to the mare pinning him down. Her eyes caught his own, even through the darkness, and in that idle moment, the temperature in the room felt as though it had dropped another tier.

Jessica Scrawl was ice cold. Her expression devoid of the wise-cracking comments, childish pranks, and seductive innuendos. Her timid body was firm and solid, unmoving and focused. The icy stare she sent towards him struck a dent in his confidence, forcing Locks silent as she replied.

“If that’s what will happen after tonight, then I willingly accept my punishment,” her voice, the only part of her that Locks recognized, croaked.

Locks let her words linger before he spoke, “Scarlet. She’s important to you, isn’t she?”

Jessica’s head rose. “What makes you say that?” she looked down at her prey.

“You’ve always been fond of her, even before we took on this case,” he refused to look away from her eyes. “The closer we’ve gotten to this Slate character, the more involved you’ve become in Scarlet’s role. You even took her to the Plains of Woe and Mount Ignis. Neither of those places are safe for a pony like her, even with you protecting her.”

“Her importance should be obvious, Locks,” Jessica sighed. “Even if she’s an absolute wreck of a detective, she’s vital to the Agency. To Steele.”

“I’m not talking about her value to our boss, or to the Agency, or even towards Equestria,” Locks sharpened his glare. “I’m talking about towards you, and only you. What changed that made you so willing to help? In all the years I’ve known you, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you voluntarily go out of your way for somepony.”

Jessica’s magic clenched around his hooves, a painful wave crashing through his mind. He broke the bridge between their eyes. “Somepony like yourself… I don’t think you’d understand either way,” she turned to the door, spotting Amethyst. “Tonight’s a big night. Possibly the most important night in my long life.”

Locks shook his head free from the sting and pinch of the spell against his flesh. “Something’s happening tonight.” Locks let his mind run, “Scarlet… she’s not supposed to know, is she?”

“That’s the idea, Locks. I can’t have somepony like you ruining what I’ve waited decades for.”

“I can’t let you do that, Jessica. Regardless of how important she is to your plans, I can’t just let you keep her in harm’s way. She needs to know what’s going on here.”

“For the sake of everyone here in Canterlot, it’s better that she’s left in the darkness.”

“But she’ll die.” Locks fought against her spell. “We’re agents, Jessica. It’s our job to protect.”

“Spare me from the Agency’s creed, Locks.” She spit at the ground, “It’s all bullshit. You can’t fool me; you only care about Scarlet. All I ask is for you to drop this little stunt. It’s for the good of Equestria, I promise.”

Locks challenged her, “And if I don’t comply?”

“If you allow Scarlet into Canterlot, everypony near and dear to Scarlet will die.” The weight of Jessica’s words dropped on Locks’ conscience. “Every. Pony. That means Mysty. Steele. Amy. Princess Celestia. All of our coworkers.” She paused, gathering her breath. “Maybe even me, but especially you. I can’t let a pony like you threaten the safety of the Agency, and so many assets to the good of the country.”

Locks called her bluff. “There’s no way that can be true. How can you say something like that with a straight face?”

Jessica growled. “What are you saying, Domino?”

“I’m saying you’re a liar.”

Insult plagued her face. “What I say is the truth, Locks. Do you want everypony to die?”

“Prove it then,” Locks’ head bolted upright. “If Scarlet is so precious to you, then prove it to me! Enough of the secrets. Of running away for a month, leaving the Agency with no leg to stand on. No more! What are you hiding!?”

Jessica looked at the detective with a veil of surprise. “There’s no harm in it… maybe…”

Locks raised a brow, “You only sow doubt into my mind if you refuse to tell me. Now: the truth.”

“You’re annoying, Locks,” Jessica grunted. “I suppose I can show you, if anything, to entertain you. I still have a moment to spare, and by the time you manage to get to your precious boss, it’ll all be over.”

“Even if I could, I’d lose my license. My job,” Locks admitted. “I was removed from the case. I broke into the Agency. Into Steele’s room. It’ll all be worth it if I can get Scarlet out of there. As long as she lives, I’m okay with whatever happens.”

“That’s a good boy,” Jessica’s horn cackled with magic. “It’s funny. To be on opposite ends of the spectrum like this, to be so engrossed in our roles and passions, and I still can’t completely take you seriously. You’re a special pony, Locks.”

“Special? That’s the first time you’ve ever given me a genuine compliment, Jess.”

A playful giggle leaked from her mouth. “And in such a terrible setting. I wish it could be different.”

“I agree,” Locks replied. “Now, if you please.”

“I’m already working on it,” Jessica whipped her head. Taking a few steps back, she allowed the orange blanket of magic to envelop her body, the sound of the spell twisting the freezing the air around the room sporadically. A light pulsed from the center of Jessica’s body, blinding the colt from the rest of her spell.

A flash of magic popped from her body, scattering into a million tiny sparks of unused arcane energy. The light quickly faded, leaving only the meager lamp on the edge of Steele’s desk to illuminate the room.

Locks opened his eyes, adjusting to the sudden darkness that wrapped itself around the room. A new pony appeared in front of him instead. She shifted her hooves, unable to keep her balance after lifting one off of the ground.

As she spoke, her voice much thicker than the scribe’s, Locks’ jaw fell open. “The proportions don’t feel… quite right anymore.”

He struggled to form words. The golden coat of the mare in front of him was far too recognizable, a memory of the month-long obsession over the first hump in their case. Her mane was up in a bun, her hair and tail as black as the night, a hue darker than Jessica’s coat. A pair of red glasses rested in front of her deep blue eyes. Four matching shoes concealed the bottom of her hooves, clacking with each nervous step the pony took on the cold, hard floor of the office.

Locks’ mind flipped around, desperately trying to connect the facts of his case with what he saw in front of his eyes. “This means…”

The yellow pony nodded her head, lowering her glasses. “Did I make a believer out of you?”

“I’m not sure,” Locks steadied his breath, his heart pounding against his chest. “But an explanation would definitely help, Tanita Helm.”

The plump mare turned around, as if checking to ensure that Locks was the only other pony in the room. Her hoof picked her glasses off of her head, placing them on Steele’s desk without so much as uttering a single word. Turning back around, Locks could spot the orange in her eyes, a thorough reminder of her identity.

“If Steele is aware of my age, then I imagine the rest of you are as well.” She continued after seeing Locks’ nod, “I’ve lived a long life, Domino. I’ve had to put up with a lot in my days. I’ve run across lifeless deserts, traveled across the world beyond Equestria, and mingled with the locals wherever I went. Day after day, I’d wander anywhere I could, wondering who I was, and where I had come from.”

“You mean, you don’t know?”

Tanita Helm shook her head. “The oldest memory I have is seeing a pony’s face. It was just for a moment, but that horrified, confused face is burned into my mind.” She walked towards the desk, resting a hoof on it, staring at the bright red of her shoe. “I can’t even recall the details. No color, no structure, nothing. Just a moment with that terrible, frightened face. The next memory I have is of me, waking up in an isolated part of the world. No ponies. No creatures at all.”

She rotated, staring back at the restrained colt. “I’ll spare the whoring of my life, but when I inevitably decided to stay in Equestria, I started to hear voices. Strange, quiet voices of ponies that came from a distance.”

“Voices?”

Helm didn’t stop to answer, “Nopony else would even acknowledge their existence, but as time passed, they became more clear. Growing loud, demanding something, anything, to save them. It was a horrible sound that I did my best to ignore at first. Eventually, there was some breaking point, and just as mysteriously as they had come, the cries would vanish, never to be heard from again.

“But then, some years later, they’d return. Different tones, different voice. Every single time.”

A horn suddenly sprouted from the head of the Earth pony, resembling the color of Jessica’s. A quick spurt of magic shot from the tip, forming a rectangular prism that hung in the air. The spell cast a reflection that the mare looked into, contempt strewn about her face.

“I started to follow the voices. I couldn’t contain myself. They lured me closer. One of them lead me to Canterlot, to an orphaned mare and her young sister.”

“Nixie and Lada?”

“Yes. This voice was terrified, just as the rest had been. Just standing next to her was nearly enough to drive me mad. I wanted to save whatever this voice was, but I didn’t know what I was doing. How I’d go about with the rescue. I had attended Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns some time before this, but none of what I had learned would help me in discovering what exactly I was dealing with.”

“And you didn’t tell anypony about this?”

“You know how I am, Locks,” Helm shut the spell, causing the magical mirror to disperse throughout the room. “I don’t play well with others. Steele always assigned me independent work because of that.”

She continued, “The voice in Nixie Hope reminded me of my foalhood. I decided that I would get close to her, and perhaps in that time, discover what I needed to do to help her out. I created this disguise, and a new name for myself, in order to do just that.”

“But you just said that the voice made it hard to get anywhere near her.”

“It did,” she visibly winced. “It changed me whenever I got too close. I think that it might’ve actually helped with my disguise. I became more… moody when Nixie and I were ever in the same room. It was difficult to focus at the time.”

“So how exactly did you manage that?” Locks tried to readjust himself on the floor, “I wouldn’t think it’d be that easy.”

“I watched her and her family from a distance at first. I saw the latent talents she had back when she was still young. Even before Lada was born. When her parents died, I decided to follow her, to see where she’d wind up.”

“And eventually, you found her at the factory?” Locks concluded.

“Yes. To keep myself afloat in Canterlot under the disguise, I nabbed myself a good job in the industry. It helped me move around from place to place with ease. When I discovered where Nixie was working, I quickly transferred. The rest of Nixie’s future played out as it did in your reports.”

“It’s different now.” Locks’ voice was flat. “Now, you’re directly involved.”

“I did what I could to try and find out why the voice was calling out to me through Nixie Hope, all the while helping her make it in the fashion business. She went on to pursue her life goals and dreams, while I started to focus more on the voice. It made me more distant from her as time progressed. I did what I could to show that I still had an interest in her by maintaining her company, but it didn’t last long.

“We ended up getting into a fight after she said she was done with her career. I thought it’d be suspicious if I quit as well to maintain full contact with her and the voice, and I couldn’t just come clean to her about the whole thing.”

“She was already getting sick at the time,” he added.

Jessica affirmed his stance with a grunt. “I didn’t want to know what would happen next. I’d never seen the effects until that day.”

The disguise Jessica wore was beginning to fade. The color and shape of her body started to shift, traces of orange magic evaporating into the air around the pair. Her figure shrunk, her hair fell out of the bun, and her shape loss its plump form. The glasses on Steele’s desk quickly puffed into a cloud of smoke.

“The voice that day was violent, and its tone was harsh and cruel. It wanted to be released, and it was no longer going to wait for me to help. I saw Nixie throw herself off of the top floor from the crowd. She died instantly.

“The voice immediately stopped. It was gone, and my senses quickly became focused. At the same time, I was frightened. Everypony knew that we had some issues with each other, and I didn’t want all of the extra publicity on my record. I couldn’t hang around Canterlot, or Equestria, ever again as Tanita Helm, so I did what I could: I destroyed the disguise and ran for the world outside of this land. Helm was considered missing, and has been ever since.”

“But you came back. Was it for Scarlet? For these Scars?”

“Scars,” Jessica repeated silently. “I read the report. Gemini and the Agency are calling these voices ‘Scars.’

“I came back from the outside a stronger, more talented mare. My magic had increased exponentially from the conditions of the world beyond, and I learned far more about magic than I ever could’ve at Celestia’s school. I became more aware of disposition, how it functioned, and how I could use it to my advantage here in Equestria. I even learned about something strange in my time away, something that had been bothering me since I first came here.”

“What was that?” Locks questioned, unable to make any kind of educated guess.

“I’m definitely not a pony,” she showed her fangs. “There are things I hear that others cannot, things that only I can do.”

“… Jessica, what exactly are you?”

She laughed, “Now THAT is something I’d love to find out. I have a good idea, but it’s best to keep that a secret for now.” She took a step closer, “There was a voice soon after Nixie’s too, but it’s the strangest thing.”

“How so?”

“It came from Ponyville. I remember landing there, and getting ready to hunt it down. It was extremely quiet. Very new, but still enticing to me. I was drawn to it by instinct. But then…”

Locks dared to encourage her, “…Then?”

“Nothing. I can barely remember anything. It’s hazy: A brown coat… we talked a little bit, and I had a notebook of some kind…? Before I knew it, I was back in Canterlot, and the voice was gone. It could’ve been a dream for all I know, but what I do know is that I remember every voice that has come and gone in my long life. I know for sure that there was a voice in Ponyville at some point. I just have a feeling.

“I moved on though. The voice was gone, and so was my reason for the time being. I did what I could, helping out here and there with mindless jobs. Eventually, I stumbled across Conroy Justis and Flex Steele. Together, and with Celestia’s approval, we created the Agency. Months later, I heard another voice,” Jessica stopped. Slowly, the black mare rested on her haunches. “It was incredibly weak. The next week, I find out that Conroy is going to be a father.

“The voice was coming from Mysty this time. Or… that’s what I thought.”

“She gave birth to Scarlet,” Locks finished.

“I ran into Gemini in Mount Ignis during my little journey with Scarlet. We discussed unrelated topics to the cases at hand. I decided to find more answers to these voices, to leave Scarlet in Twilight Sparkle’s hooves. With Gemini’s help and confessions to Scarlet, I think I managed to discover the truth behind this entire mess in my month-long hiatus. My magic is stronger, my mind is far more clear, and for the first time, I can finally be assured that I will see these voices through, and save them.”

“Then why not share it with the Agency, Jessica? We can help-”

“No. You can’t. You cannot. Don’t even dare tell me such a ridiculous lie,” she shot back to her hooves.

“Jessica, what’s your goal?” Locks wondered.

“I’m saving a life. If I’m lucky, two. If the powers that be smile upon my mission, everypony. But I’m not hoping for the best. I’m preparing for the worst.”

Locks let her words sink in. “And whatever that may be, it’s happening tonight?”

“Almost undoubtedly,” she replied in an instant.

“So you’re going to let this voice… these Scars, corrupt Scarlet until she ends up dead, just like Nixie?”

Jessica shook her head. “I feel like I can save her. There’s a small chance-”

“A chance?” Locks tried to resist the spell gluing him to the ground. “You’re going to risk Scarlet on a chance?”

“You don’t understand, Locks. Scarlet will be doing me a favor. Trust me.”

“A fa-” Locks blood red eyes shot daggers at the unicorn, “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“I need Scarlet as much as you do, and believe me when I say that I don’t want her dead either. But my priority lies within the secret of the Scars… and the voices behind them. Meeting with Gemini after so, so long was both my greatest blessing and my worst curse. Thanks to that renegade alicorn, I was able to speed up preparations without hurting anypony around me, but because of her confession, I lost every bit of control I had over this entire thing.”

“Control?”

“Yes,” Jessica retaliated his glare back at him. “This case could’ve been dropped by now, but Scarlet managed to get Gemini to reveal the Scars. Although it helped me, it put Steele on high alert. It’s tough for me to move around anymore without being spotted. It’s the first time that being in the Agency has put me at risk. It’s frustrating.”

“What exactly did Gemini tell you that she didn’t tell Scarlet?”

“Nothing important to you, detective,” she shot another look at him. “And even if it was, I can’t tell you. That’s what tonight is for.”

“I think I understand, but Jessica,” he said, “how does this relate to Scarlet putting us all in danger? How can we die from something like that?”

Jessica sighed, wanting nothing more than for him to understand. “Locks, the Scars are sentient. They know what is going on around them. I doubt the Scars are too thrilled with knowing that ponies are actively trying to get rid of them. I’m not sure of their extent, but do you seriously think it’s a good idea to send her here, with ponies who know they exist after so many years?”

“It’s better than having her endangering the Elements of Harmony.”

“Bullshit.”

“Maybe it’s because you are an outsider, Scrawl,” Locks couldn’t help but to add venom to his words. “Perhaps out there in the world beyond, you can take care of yourself. You are a strong, extraordinarily gifted unicorn… or whatever you are. But we here in Equestria aren’t as prepared as you are. We need the Elements of Harmony, or else everything will be lost to forces out of our control.”

“And that’s your reason, detective?”

“Of course not. Not entirely, at least. I want to help Scarlet. I want to free her from these Scars. I want everypony involved to see these cases to the end.”

“I can do that!” Jessica stamped a hoof. “Why don’t you believe me when I say that!?”

“You couldn’t save those other dozen or more voices from being silenced. How can you convince me that Scarlet will be the one exception to that rule!?” Locks felt heat rising to his forehead.

“Because I’m stronger now! I know more about them than I used to! From what Gemini taught me, I can do it!”

“You were also taught more by Celestia’s school. You were stronger after all of those other victims. Stronger after Nixie Hope. There’s no way you can deny that you’re gambling Scarlet on your ill-advised confidence. I don’t want to put my best friend on that roulette wheel like you’re willing to do.”

“Then what the fuck do you want, Locks?” Jessica grinded her hoof into the ground. Her horn shot another surge of magic, tightening the grip her spell had on his hooves.

Locks grunted, gritting his teeth to hide the pain. His eyes, large and crazed, looked straight into Jessica’s, locked in a conflict that he wasn’t sure he’d win. “I want Scarlet to be safe. Happy. Healthy. I want to save her, and I want to ensure that our country’s best means of defense are kept safe because of this.”

The tightness of Jessica’s spell waned. The shackles dropped their death-grip, loosening up just enough for Locks to wiggle his legs around. “Everything should have a happy ending, shouldn’t it?” Jessica’s eyes weakened. “But do you genuinely believe that bringing Scarlet here, thereby threatening the lives of the Agency, her family, and her friends, is better than putting her at risk with the Elements? Or better than my plan?”

“I don’t know your plan, and your refusal to tell me anything about it is all I need to stay skeptical about that crap,” Locks panted, his legs burning from the spell. “I love my friends, Jessica. They are the greatest treasure that I have. Don’t mistake my decision for idiocy or arrogance.

“All of us: Scarlet, Amy, Steele, and myself, all work as agents for Princess Celestia, to ensure that our kingdom is safe from any threats that we discover. It’s our duty to our country to protect all of our strongest assets from harm, even if it means putting our own lives down. It’s for the good of Equestria. Every single one of them, even Scarlet and her mother, would understand the decision I’m making.

“I didn’t get involved in the Agency with some stupid belief that I’ll come out fine. That I’ll be able to grow old with all of my friends. I’m not naive. Ponies die at the Agency. They die protecting Equestria from danger, like these Scars. We are all willing to die for the sake of ridding this land of such a terrible disease. I’m prepared for something like that.

“On top of that, I trust that Scarlet would be far safer in Canterlot, with ponies who could study her day and night to find a cure, than in the hooves of a loner who wandered into our nation. I still can’t trust you, even now. You’ve been hiding vital information from us for generations, Jessica. Hiding and running from any pony you could’ve ever known to help.

“You hid this information from Conroy Justis. You played the fool while he died doing this very mission.”

Locks saw the blow on her face, the words that ripped her mental stability to shreds. Her face didn’t change, no sudden twitch or jump. Her eyes started to shine in the darkness.

“I don’t care anymore about who killed Conroy, or how he died. You withheld information that could’ve saved his life. That could’ve spared Scarlet and her family from so much pain and guilt. You broke a family just for the sake of keeping a low profile. For the sake of these fucking Scars.

“That explains so much…”

“Wh-What?” Jessica croaked.

“I worked under Conroy’s command for most of my early career here, Jessica. Conroy hated you. I could never piece together how, or why. You got along well with Scarlet, and though you gave us all some grief from time to time, it was mostly through harmless pranks that made me think lightly of your behavior. I asked him one day what bugged him so much about you. Years later, it’s all starting to make so much sense.

“Cold at heart. Manipulative. Selfish. Conroy Justis refused to talk to you because he was the only pony that saw through your facade. One look at you, and he saw the truth that you hide behind that face of yours. Now, after hearing you spout all of this crap about your life, and about these voices in your head, I can finally see why he never trusted you.

“And now, I’m tempted to exercise that sentiment.”

“What do you mean, Locks?”

“You’re an enemy, Jessica. A threat. I cannot, and will not trust you. Not with these cases, and definitely not with Scarlet.”

“But I…” Jessica sniffed, looking at the conviction on Locks’ face. She ceased her press, wiping her face with a spare hoof. “I wouldn’t have discovered so much, to have come so far if it weren’t for him…”

“Not for him,” Locks spat. “For his death. You had something to gain from Conroy’s passing. You profited while everypony was crying. Especially her.

“You’re sick.”

Jessica retreated to Steele’s desk, hitting the edge of it with her rump. Her anger rose, lowering her horn to point it at Locks. “That’s enough! I’m tired of you ponies constantly judging me! Always antagonizing me, making me the goddamn bad guy! I need this! You… I wish…!

“I wish you could understand.” Her rage instantly shattered.

“I pity you, Jessica,” Locks said, his eyes never breaking from hers. “What you’ve done is cruel: Allowing Scarlet’s family to suffer just so you can meet your goals.”

“I’m responsible again, huh?” She looked at him, her mouth limp and her eyes soft. “That would be the fourth pony I’ve killed…”

“Fourth…?”

“And I was always the one to say it too. Thou shalt not kill, right? Easily the worst kind of crime that can ever exist.” The small mare sighed, clenching her eyes shut for a second. “I guess that’s just how things have to be. After tonight… none of this will matter.”

The two shared another silence together, unsure of what the other would do. Jessica’s magic weakened another stage.

“So what happens next?” Locks bloody eyes intensified. “You could stop me here and now from telling Scarlet to return to Canterlot to find the cure. But in doing so, you’ll end up in trouble as well. You’ll be arrested by the Agency.”

Jessica winced at his words.

“If tonight is what decides the future for everypony involved, then you’d be ruining your own plans if you reveal mine.”

“… You’re right. The only feasible way at this point would be to keep you and Amy silent about this.”

“What?”

Jessica’s somber face frightened Locks far more than every other expression she had shown thus far. Her compassion-less aura and her wet, moist eyes set off flags in his mind.

Her horn flared to life, immediately sending out jolts of malevolent power. “I think… as long as everything works out in the end… I can live with six on my hooves.”

“No!” Locks glare widened.

Just as Jessica’s spell had been prepped to fire, she froze. Not out of regret for her actions, nor out of hesitation for breaking one of her own sacred credos. The spell in her horn popped, a sound that Jessica knew all too well:

Her spell had become corrupt. With a quick wave of her head, the magic backfired, a loud pop breaking the silence as the spell shot outward in a powerful wave. It launched itself straight through the window, shattering it with a chaotic crash. The magic splashed everywhere, setting fire to the edges of the now vacant hole in the wall. The backlash from the force the magic created sent Jessica and Locks, who had been freed from the loss of control on Jessica’s part, hurtling towards the entrance of the office. The two ponies tumbled, each one slamming roughly against the wall.

Locks, who suffered much less force from the feedback, managed to lift himself first. His ears twitched wildly, hearing a distinguished sound ringing out beyond the door.

The spell had set off the alarms. He could already hear hoofsteps rushing down the halls. Amethyst, hearing the commotion from Steele’s room, had the door open the moment the pair rammed against the edge of the office. She looked at Locks, waving him to her in a hurry.

He didn’t hesitate for another second. He looked around on the floor. Within hoof’s reach, he spotted the bottle of magic necessary to send the letter, still intact from the blast. He grabbed it with his mouth, then rushed out of the door with Amy in tow, the two of them leaving the damaged unicorn behind.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Jessica started to stir. She lifted herself to her hooves, shaking her head from the ringing.

“The alarm went off. Damn it.” She turned to look around the room. “He took the bottle.” Her head was spinning from the impact, the mare doing her best to regain her focus. “What the hell was that? I haven’t botched up a spell in ages. It was as if I…”

She stopped again, doing her best to relive the moment that her magic had jolted. Then, as the realization dawned on her, she began to smile, her fangs exposed with her glee. “Domino Locks. You amazing pony, you! That explains so very much. It’s no wonder how you’ve become Steele’s right hand colt.”

She whisked her head around, her horn pointing out of the window. “They’ll definitely spot them rushing out the Agency. This’ll help the guards slow them down.” A stream of orange magic fired just out of the window like a rocket, spiraling up into the freezing sky, moving beyond the clouds. It popped, sending the spell all across Canterlot.

“You can’t leave this city. You can only hide for so long. Better hurry, Locks,” she looked out the window. Snow was starting to pour down outside. “Because we’re expecting several inches tonight.”

She reached down under her hoof. A tattered scroll was pinned underneath it. She snickered, her horn preparing for a teleport.

“And you forgot your message.”

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay. 403-406 will be updated in the next few hours!
- G. R.