ONE HOUR LATER

In the dead of the night, the Canterlot Hospital could nearly pass as a morgue. The lounge was large, benches sat against most of the walls with rugs and coffee tables seated in front to offer a more home-like feel to those waiting for treatment, or to see a loved one admitted. Potted plants with thick, luscious leaves were neatly stationed between each bench along the walls, sitting directly on one square of tile with an eerie sense of precision.

A janitor whistled to himself far down the hallway, giving the hard floors a proper cleaning, though the sweat on his brow was a tell of his anxiety. In the lounge, waiting patiently for news, were two large ponies, far taller than any ordinary colt or mare in the sleeping city. Their manes flowed with powerful magics, disobeying the laws of gravity. Paragons of might, they perched side by side, their wings tucked to their sides. Princess Celestia motioned to her dark blue sister, and the pair looked back towards the entrance of the room.

Two ponies emerged from the hallway. The gray, aged colt walked ahead, turning around to motion his captive forward. She huffed, blowing some of her pink mane out of the way before obeying. The clank of a pair of hoofcuffs jingled through the hospital, catching more than several nurses by surprise. The two, the stallion and the mare, approached the princesses of Equestria, each bowing to them in respect before sitting along the row of benches nearby.

“Couldn’t you have loosened these up a bit? They hurt,” Mystery Hart grunted, showing the cuffs sinking into her coat.

“We won’t be having any of that,” Steele immediately barked. “Your comfort is far too low on our priorities right now. Are you even aware of what happened tonight?”

Mysty grimaced, lowering her head. “You don’t have to tell me. I saw the flash all the way from the cemetary, just like anypony would’ve if they’d have been awake at the time.” She did her best to remain calm. “How are they?”

“We won’t know until somepony comes out and tells us,” Steele replied. “They were both in critical condition when we arrived at Canterlot Plaza.”

“I don’t understand,” Princess Celestia sighed. “Jessica has never done something as severe as this before. She never came off as the kind of pony that would kill over something.”

“I think we were all fooled into thinking that, Princess,” Mysty added. “I wanted to help Locks and Amy, and I knew the potential risks.” She turned away, “But this is the worst possible thing that could’ve happened tonight.”

“Yeah,” Steele coughed. “You’re part isn’t done yet either, Mystery. You’ll be tried, as will Locks and Amethyst, should they survive. You might be sent to prison.”

“Oh Flex, don’t be so formal with me,” she accepted, a graceful defeat. “I knew well in advance what would happen. I went ahead and did it anyways.”

Princess Luna was busy on the far end of their bench, sifting through floating documents that Steele had given them prior to retrieving the pink haired mare. Case files for both Scarlet and Locks sifted around, her perceiving blue eyes darting across the pages, absorbing every bit of information like a thirsty sponge.

“I can’t believe it came to this,” Luna’s eyes closed in thought. “To think that something this dangerous has been lurking underneath our society for nearly one thousand years.

Mysty looked down in defeat. “It’s our fault. Conroy’s and mine. He wanted to investigate the Scars beforehand, and I encouraged him. We instigated everything that’s happened up until now.”

“Wrong,” Steele stared at the cold tile floor. “You’ve done nothing that wouldn’t have happened either way. The Scars have been killing for so many years. It was inevitable that somepony would eventually catch on. Your family,” he sighed, “just happened to be the first ones to really do anything about it.”

“Tell me this, Mrs. Justis,” Celestia turned to face her. “Would you rather the Scars never be discovered, and allowing it to take any and every pony’s life that it could? Would you be happy with so many more ponies dying without any answer as to why, or how?”

“Of course not, Princess.”

She reassured Mysty with conviction in her words, “Now that we know what we’re dealing with, we can look further into these Scars. Maybe we can even find a way to ward it off.”

“Siphoning information out of Jessica will be our greatest chance at that, Princess.” Steele said. “Have you considered her proposal?”

The Princess of the Sun nodded, leaving her sister more than a bit confused. “I shall go to the dungeon immediately after our work here is done. There are many questions that I need to ask her.” She continued, “Steele, from what I understand, Jessica gave you some basic information before she was imprisoned. Is that true?”

The stallion faltered. “Y-Yes, Princess. I asked her about our theory.”

“Wait, theory?” Mysty’s voice rose. “What theory?”

“What did she say then, Flex?” Celestia ignored the concerned mother.

“It’s worse than we’ve thought, Princess. Jessica says that the Scars is in its final phase. She claims that the magical buildup inside of Trace’s body will eventually blow over because of her inability to contain so much power inside of her. She said that once it becomes unstable enough, it’ll rip her body apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left, much like Gemini’s.”

“Gemini is an alicorn like us,” Celestia looked to her sister. “She must’ve been able to survive because of the increased endurance and strength of our kind.”

“It gets worse, your highness. Jessica said that it should be capping out on Trace’s limits by tonight sometime. And most importantly,” his voice shook, “she confirmed that our suspicions are true, as per Gemini’s word.”

“What word?!” Mysty failed to understand.

“That the Scars are sentient, Mrs. Justis. We believed, up until this moment, that they would lash out at ponies if they knew they were in danger.” Celestia turned back to the gray colt. “Flex, she’s saying that such a thing is true?”

He nodded grimly. “She told me that getting anywhere near Scarlet with the intention to help will put your life at risk. Only those that are aware of the Scars’ existence are in danger of being punished like this.”

“What of Twilight and her friends?” Luna chimed in. “Scarlet Trace has been living with them in Ponyville for months now.”

“They’re fine,” Steele replied with confidence. “None of them are aware of Scars. If Jessica and Gemini are reliable sources, then they should be fine.”

“Twilight and her group of friends are bound by the ultimate magic. I have yet to meet any kind of power that could shatter the bonds forged by The Elements of Harmony.” Celestia turned back to the hallway, waiting for somepony to come through with news. “Even if they knew about Scars, I have no doubt that the elements would keep them safe.”

The rest of the ponies followed Celestia’s movement, hearing a rushed set of hooves charging down the halls. It grew closer to the lounge, slowing down to a hurried trot.

None of the four ponies were expecting the Element of Loyalty to appear at the other end of the hallway. Her rainbow colored mane was pulled back against her face, goggles resting around her neck and dangling at her chest.

“Rainbow Dash,” Princess Celestia perked up. “You’re a far way away from Ponyville.”

The brightly colored mare’s chest rose and dropped frantically, still catching her breath. “Sorry Princess. I,” she panted, “I flew as fast as I could from Ponyville to Canterlot, and when I couldn’t find you at the castle, I had to make my way around the city until the royal guard pointed me over here.”

“I apologize for making your journey so complicated.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” the pegasus smirked. “It’s kinda busy out there tonight. I didn’t think I’d run into so many guards along the way.”

The four ponies didn’t comment on her observation. Celestia didn’t seem fazed by it. “What brings you here to Canterlot so late into the night, Rainbow Dash?”

“You know Scarlet Trace, right?”

“I do.”

She reached into a small bag resting on her back. In her mouth was a small letter with a familiar marked seal. “The girls and I went out with her to some strange house earlier today and she found something that was really important to her job. She had me come and deliver this letter to you as soon as I could.”

The letter floated from Rainbow’s mouth and directly into the air right in front of Celestia. “Thank you Rainbow Dash. Would you like to rest? I can make accommodations for you back at the castle if you need it.”

Rainbow’s expressive face didn’t show any understanding of the weight of the situation the four ponies were in. “Don’t worry about me Princess. I’ll be back in Ponyville in no time.” She bowed at the sisters, turning to head out of the door. “Have a good night!”

“Wait!”

Dash froze, her hooves bent right before the moment she launched back into the air. She turned back to the soft voice behind her, looking back at Mysty’s needing eyes. “Yes ma’am?”

“You’ve been with Scarlet?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“I’m her mother,” she gave Rainbow a reassuring smile. “How has she been?”

“A little under the weather, actually,” she replied bluntly. “We’ve tried talking her into staying in bed, but she’s pretty stubborn. Reminds me of a friend of mine back home.”

“She’s sick?”

“Yeah,” Dash spotted the worry in her eyes. “But don’t worry too much! She’ll be fine. She’s actually on the train back to Canterlot right now. She’ll be here soon.”

A horrible sweeping feeling punched through the group’s guts at Rainbow’s words.

She waited for a retort. “Ooookay, well, I’m off. Cya later Princesses!”

As suddenly as she had come, Rainbow Dash vanished down the hall and out of the building, darting through the sky at impossible speeds.

‘Why’s Scarlet’s mom with the Princesses?’ Rainbow couldn’t help but ponder as she punched through a lone cloud.

“She’s… coming home?” Mysty gulped.

“This isn’t good. We can’t see her.”

Princess Celestia’s magic tore open the letter, tossing the envelope over to the table in front of the group, her eyes sucking up all of the information in the hastily written scroll.

A sweeping, coursing shockwave brushed over the four ponies. Erupting from the hallway and plowing through them before moving on, sifting through the walls. Like a wave on the beach, it lifted each of their bodies just a fragment off their seats, eliciting a gasp from the princess of the night.

“… What was that?” Steele looked around. A janitor had come into view, cleaning the floors. He seemed unaffected by the unexplainable phenomenon.

“I don’t know,” Celestia looked up from the letter. “Blank Slate.”

The familiarity of the word struck Flex. “That name… It sounds like I’ve heard it before.”

“Gemini,” Luna pointed to her floating documents. “Scarlet wrote that Gemini mentioned it.”

“I know Slate from our case, but this is different,” Steele looked over to Mysty, who agreed with a nervous frown. “I feel like I’ve heard that name from some time way before the cases. It’s strange. I know damn sure that I knew nothing about anypony named Slate until now.”

“Memory spell,” Celestia read aloud. The other three looked back at her.

“Excuse me?” Mysty shook her head.

“This letter from Scarlet,” Celestia’s eyes went through it again. “It’s messy and hurried, but I get it clearly. Blank Slate, a pegasus from Ponyville. He was infected by the Scars and ended up killing himself like Nixie Hope.” She grimaced. “When Scarlet discovered his journal, a spell erupted from his house that Twilight and Scarlet identified as fragments of a memory spell. The spell must’ve just passed through Canterlot. We’ll need to run disposition measurements for all of tonight. Magic’s been surging through Equestria ever since everything started tonight.”

The group put the pieces together. “Blank Slate… made everypony forget about himself?” Mysty raised an eyebrow.

“He didn’t,” Steele growled. “His Scars did. This disease,” he stamped his hoof. “It’s killed too many. Even Conroy.”

Mysty’s entire body grew stiff. She turned to her captor. “What?”

Steele looked back at her. “You wanted to know, so here: Jessica told me all about Scarlet’s Scars. Her Scars, Conroy got too close to it. He became aware of its capabilities.

“The Scars infected Conroy. It drained him of his life. It killed him. Scarlet’s disease killed your husband.”

The princess of the night stood in shock, her mouth hung open. Celestia could only look on with sadness in her eyes, watching as Mysty’s face collapsed from surprise into a deep, somber sadness. The pink mare went completely silent.

Another pair of steps came through the door, only heard because of the deathly silent tension that blanketed the room. Celestia, Luna, and Steele turned back towards the entrance, each one waiting for the pony to say something.

TWO HOURS AGO

A cyan blur burst through the clouds, punching holes into any foolish enough to get in her way. She easily vanished against the horizon, a pair of waving hooves wishing her a safe journey.

“Scarlet, are you sure about this?” Twilight Sparkle put a hoof on the young mare’s shoulder. “The spell gave you back your strength, but you still don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine,” Scarlet Trace waved her off, the dark bags under her eyes a clear indicator that she was lying. She grabbed her hat and jacket and flipped them both on, placing a saddlebag on her back with all of her reports since she had arrived in Ponyville. “If I don’t go back now,” she coughed, “I’ll never get back.”

A chill in the air made the purple unicorn shiver. “It’s getting cold too.”

“I have my jacket,” Scarlet assured her new friend.

The two stared at each other for a moment.

“Thanks for everything, Twilight. You’re a good friend,” Scarlet extended her hoof, a smile hiding the pain that was punching against her gut.

Twilight reached forward, past the detective’s hoof and around her neck. She pulled herself towards Scarlet and gave her a gentle hug. “Stay safe, Scarlet. I hope you get better.”

‘Me too.’ She thought silently. “I will. Give the rest of the girls my best, and tell Rainbow Dash I said thanks again for the help. You’ve all been great.”

“Sure thing.”

Scarlet broke eye contact with the librarian’s purple eyes. She embraced the cold breeze, making her way towards the train station further into town.

She spun her neck around, seeing that the purple pony was still outside of her house, watching her. She raised another hoof, a final farewell to the Element of Magic.

Scarlet Trace was going home.

Scarlet’s ears flickered with every clack of the train. It hadn’t been long since she had departed from Ponyville, but already she was beginning to feel the lingering effects of her disease taking hold. Her forehead was a bit hot, and every so often, the young mare couldn’t help but think she was hearing a faint whisper coming from somewhere in the train, perhaps beyond the doors that separated each individual car.

She wiped her sweating forehead. Scarlet was anxious, ready to return home and tell everypony the news. To finish something that her father had started years ago. The anticipation, or her illness, made her tremble in her seat.

Her soft jade eyes looked out the window on the opposite end of the cart. It was too dark to make much out in the distance, but the gentle light from the moon still illuminated patches of the sky, most of it shrouded behind a thin layer of clouds.

She coughed. Scarlet hadn’t taken anything to eat or drink on the way home, a decision that her stomach was beginning to lament with a growl. Her mind took her back to Canterlot, thinking of what she would do after her work was done.

Another painful sting snapped her out of her thoughts, making her double over with a grunt. Quickly, the pain subsided. She picked herself back up, perched on her seat. Nopony else was on board, save for the conductor and some fresh cargo. Her gut rumbled again, followed by another whimper that seemed to waft through the air, nearly drowned out by the clicking of the train’s wheels.

Coffee sounded amazing. Scarlet licked her lips, remembering their favorite spot at the cafe in Canterlot.

“Double mocha latte. Maybe even a glazed donut on the side,” she murmured to herself. She felt her mouth water at the thought, practically smelling the sugary scent emanating from the baked good.

“Even if Jessica’s there toying with me, it’ll be worth it,” she sighed, her posture slouching a bit.

Another sharp pain rocked her body. Her mind jolted wide awake, her body squirming to get a grip on herself.

“If The Scars don’t get to me first, that is,” Scarlet did her best to joke, the smile all but wiped from her face. She thought back to the Elements’ words, of her outburst back at Blank Slate’s house. She pulled her hat from her head, letting it rest between her shaky hooves. Those ponies couldn’t be lying. Even if it were just for a moment, Scarlet could see the damage herself: The material was still ruffled and slightly torn from the top, a few bits hanging from the surface like tattered wire. She ran her hooves across the scar, cursing herself under her breath.

She couldn’t help but think about what triggered such a crazy reaction. Slate’s house, that oppressive, sad place, drove her mind crazy with strange thoughts. Memories of her long gone fillyhood, of her mother and father raising her, preparing her for her duties at The Agency.

Scarlet felt her mouth form into a frown. The Agency again. Always about that damn place. She placed the hat back on her head, memories becoming clearer from her reaction at Ponyville.

“I never had a choice,” Scarlet grimaced, her face soft from the mental blow. Immediately, another wave of agony struck, almost knocking her off of her seat. She balanced herself, hissing through her teeth as she withstood the damage, whatever it really was, to her body.

She slumped over against the wall of the train. Her eyes wandered out her own window. She choked, her eyes widened. A throaty cough escaped her mouth, followed by a burning warmth. Blood stained the base of the window, thick and slowly drooling down the side.

She groaned. The Scars were already getting worse. She shook her head, fighting off the regret of leaving the Elements so soon.

“I had to get to Canterlot eventually,” she convinced herself. “Better to get it over with now than later. When I’m worse.”

She tensed up at the thought. It would get worse. Gemini had told her before, back on Ignis. Death, according to that ancient Alicorn, was inevitable.

The air was cold in her cart. Scarlet's body crumbled in her seat. She heaved another cough up her throat, rubbing the burning sensation that erupted along the hack. Her figure was shaking, the chill from outside not playing a part.

Scarlet had been working at the Agency for years. Her parents raised her to eat, breathe, and sleep The Agency and its particular line of work. Even though the end result, as painful as it was to admit, was lackluster. Scarlet wasn't a dumb mare, fully aware of her impotence at her job. There was a reason that she was the lowest class of agent. Her abilities were poor, at best.

However fake of a detective she may have been, she wasn't a fake pony. She had lived that daring, bold lifestyle, even if she could barely manage by the skin of her teeth. The experiences themselves, solving crimes, coming head to head with malevolent ponies, working alongside her friends and allies; it was all very real to her. It could’ve been acted, like a play, from the start of her birth, to the finish. It didn’t matter to Scarlet whether or not it was preemptive anymore. She was involved in her life through her emotions, thoughts, and beliefs. No truth could ever take that away from her.

Scarlet cringed again, her mind so far beyond the train ride. Her years as a detective had brought her close to death on many occasions. Barely dodging black magic. Avoiding the wrath of serial killers and monsters that invaded the country. Scarlet herself may have never been the best detective, but she had gone through the lifestyle just as everypony else, and survived. Despite all the odds, and disregarding the killer disease that was currently devouring her, she had made it this far.

She was still far more prepared than anypony else. More prepared than Gemini. Nixie Hope. Blank Slate. She had come face to face with her own mortality so many times when compared to those three.

Even still, on this cold, silent night, with only the clack of the train's wheels to keep her company, she cried.

Scarlet was frightened. Near-death experiences were just those. Near-death. Even with such a lethal job, having survived so many of those horrors, there was always that chance. That invasive variable called luck that always happened to be at her side. The invaluable happenstance that somehow, through those murderers, killers, beasts, and mysteries, Scarlet 'Laya' Trace had managed, through her incompetence, to survive.

Always in the back of her mind, was that will to survive her hardships. That hunger for life kept her going, always giving her that second wind that, even in the most dire of scenarios, would somehow pull her away from death's grasp.

Chance. Luck. Fortune. Whatever it was called, Scarlet always had that. Scarlet always knew that there was a chance that some cosmic interference would spare her insignificant, inept life.

Gemini's words swept through her mind, acting as a painful reminder that no matter how real her experience was, it was worthless when faced with the reality of her situation. Of her disease. Scarlet knew, even from way back in Ignis, that the moment was almost here. She brushed it aside, doing her best to avoid thinking about it for all those months she spent in the bed in Twilight’s library, but just as any other time, swept away by the pass of day and night, the moment was coming all the same.

It was tonight. Scarlet Trace had no doubt in her mind. Another twist pulled at her gut, a burn ripped up through to her head, draining her strength away. She groaned, laying herself flat on the bench with watery eyes.

Scarlet Laya Trace would die tonight. No chance. No luck. No fortune. And she knew it better than anypony else.

There was nothing left for her to do but pray. Hoping through the odds that perhaps she'd have just enough left in her to see her mom and friends one last time.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the flash of a bright light. Scarlet’s ears perked up, her neck raised towards the bloodstained window. Another flash erupted from the distance, illuminating the night. The train continued on its path, oblivious, but the sight was as clear as day to Scarlet. With all her strength, she pulled herself towards the window.

The light faded as quickly as it came, the detective’s eye scanning the distance. It had come from Canterlot, whatever it might have been.

Scarlet wasn’t given much time to ponder the origin of the light, the Scars calling back to her with another stab, this time against her flank. Her neck spun around to her cutie mark, staring at it for a second before falling back to her seat, crippled with agony. She moaned louder, doing her best to pull herself together long enough to make it to Canterlot. It wasn’t a long train ride, and that flash was incredibly close. She’d arrive soon, and get help before it could get any worse.

“Is it time?”

Her body froze. Was that a voice? Scarlet shook her head. It must’ve been the breeze, or maybe her Scars is playing tricks on her again, just like at Slate’s house. She closed her eyes shut, doing her best to ignore the burning that continued against her cutie mark.

Another heat came to her attention. The temperature rose dramatically, forcing her system into full alert. She jumped up, feeling a very real burning sensation coming from all over.

Her black coat had a flame on it. She gasped, pulling it off and immediately throwing it towards the center of the cart. The heat burned up against her head, her hoof instantly grabbing the hat and chucking it atop her coat.

She gathered her breath, more sweat coming down her face. She wasn’t ready for death yet, and burning before her time was certainly not something the detective wanted before the moment came. She coughed, looking back at her coat and hat.

A small fire had gathered on the edge of the coat, as well as the rim of the hat. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at the blue tint within the flames, which was quickly consuming the natural color. The flame suppressed the outfit, yet didn’t spread across the rest of the fabric, content burning away at it piece by piece.

She stared at it in disbelief. Her thoughts were numb, fighting against her fear of getting burned, her drive to dive in and save her father’s treasured hat, and the numbing effects of the Scars that continued to rock her body. As she calmed down, she could feel the Scars slowly getting back to work, eating away at her insides like a gluttonous parasite.

She laid back down, accepting the fate of her outfit as the blue flame wormed its way down the first sleeve, the hat proving its endurance, as the fire hadn’t even crawled an inch from its starting position.

“I just wanna go home,” Scarlet grumbled. “I don’t understand anything anymore. Scars, Slate, Mount Ignis.” She looked towards her destination, the city lights starting to illuminate her window. “Jessica, The Agency, these stupid cases.” She sighed, “Blue fire.”

“Aww come on, it can’t be that bad, right?”

For the second time since the train ride began, Scarlet kicked herself back up to her haunches. The voice was loud and clear, a hint of familiarity within it forcing a plethora of memories to explode from inside. She looked across the room, to the source of the voice.

A stallion, his coat a dark blue, sat against the wall on the end of the train cart opposite of Scarlet. His gentle emerald eyes glistened against the night. He gave her a smile, brushing back a strand of his short, black mane.

Scarlet looked to his flank. A golden scale was imprinted along his backside.

She was just about ready to jump over her bench and crash into Conroy Justis, but the Scars shot another jolt of pain through her head.

“Calm down, Scarlet,” her father looked her over. “You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

Scarlet paused, pulling herself back up, leaning against the wall for support. “D-Dad!?”

Conroy Justis nodded. He looked just as he did the night that the young detective saw his body by the frozen river. He tilted his head slightly, giving her plenty of time to look him over. “Well… yeah?”

She form weakened. “It can’t be you. You’re dead.” She looked back to her flank, a toxic wave of disappointment in her words, “It must be the Scars. They’re toying with my mind.”

Conroy looked back at his daughter, not speaking a word.

“Am I right?”

Conroy’s eyes wandered, looking mostly at the ceiling of the train. They traveled back down, towards the burning outfit that separated the two of them. “Maybe. Maybe not. I couldn’t tell you that.”

“I thought so,” Scarlet frowned. “Just leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that.” Conroy said. “Not ever.”

“How come? You’ve been hurting me all this time. What makes you hesitate now?”

“I’d never willingly hurt my daughter,” Conroy said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And I’d never just let my little girl be left alone to die.”

“You’re persistent,” she huffed after a short silence. “Not that it really matters much.”

“Now wait,” Conroy raised a hoof. “Well, look at it this way, however grim it might be.”

“It’s not like I have many options, do I?” Scarlet rolled her eyes, wincing from another sudden sting. “I doubt you’re going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Only so long as the fire burns, perhaps.” Conroy turned down to the fire. “At least it’s warm now.”

Scarlet nodded. “I suppose.” She looked back up at her deceased father. “So what where you going to say?”

The older stallion cleared his throat. “You can believe me to be whatever you want. You think I’m a side-effect of the Scars, right?”

“It makes sense, considering their track record,” she thought back to Nixie Hope.

“Well, perhaps…” he scratched his mane.

‘He used to do that all the time with mom,’ Scarlet prepared herself. ‘Smile even when faced with such a difficult situation.’

“Whether or not I’m from the Scars should be kinda pointless, right? You’re already infected.”

“That’s true to some extent,” Scarlet agreed, “but in Nixie’s case, at the least, her imagination lead her to her death. How do I know that you won’t end up doing the same?”

“I’d hardly think that such a thing would matter by now,” Conroy chuckled.

“And why not?” She raised her voice.

“Because I doubt that me being here is going to change much of anything. The way I see it, you might as well enjoy the company.”

She wrinkled her face in confusion.

“I mean,” he continued, “Nixie’s imagination killed her out of fright. What do you think I’ll do to you? Kill you with kindness?”

“… Maybe.”

“You’re already on the final phase of the Scars though, right?” Conroy scooted closer. “If Gemini is right, then you might as well go peacefully then.”

Scarlet remembered Slate and Nixie Hope. Gemini’s thousand years of loneliness, too. “A slow, graceful death?”

“Sounds better than the others, right? And that’s assuming I am actually of the Scars’ influence.”

“This isn’t how I imagined my last moments, if anything,” Scarlet grumbled. Slowly, she looked back at her “father.” He stood just like him, his body moved all the same. He even spoke very bluntly, much like he did when he worked.

“At least it’s interesting.”

“It is,” she let out a weak chuckle.

“That’s better.”

“So what happens next?” Scarlet crumbled against another wave. “Do I just slowly lose consciousness? Sudden death?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, laughing. “You’re still assuming that I’m here with the worst case scenario.”

“Then why would you be here if you weren’t a Scars? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“My body and mind, yes,” he nodded.

Scarlet’s eyes lit up at his response. “Dad… your disposition…!?”

“I can’t say. I wouldn’t know much.”

“But how? Mom always said it took two of three elements to do anything like this!”

“You’re jumping to conclusions again, Scarlet. Think slow and steady.”

She shrunk back, her father’s scolding bringing back many memories as a foal. “Then what?”

“I can’t be ‘back.’ That would mean somepony on this train has either my mind or my body. I can’t say much about that.” He looked back at the fire, his daughter following suit. “However, I can tell you that if I’m not a portion of the Scars infecting you, then I have a good idea where I came from.”

“This all seems too ridiculous to me,” Scarlet looked back at her father.

“It’s up to you to believe whether or not it’s all an illusion. I’m going to play my part all the same.”

Scarlet pulled herself closer to the fire, welcoming the warmth. “Play your part?”

Conroy Justis nodded his head.

“And what exactly would that part be?”

“The same part that I’ve been doing for the last year.”

“What?”

“Watching over you, Scarlet.”

She looked back down at the burning outfit. It was growing, half of the hat and coat devoured completely by the blue flames.

“Blue,” she muttered. “Just like the disposition in the air.”

Conroy shook his head again. “Yeah.”

“You hinted that you might possibly be the disposition from my dad’s death, right?”

“I’m just taking wild guesses. If I had my mind back, I could probably have a better idea of what’s going on.”

“Even if that’s true, how are you able to form now? Why not any time before this night, on this train? And even without the mind, how are you able to remember bits like the disposition at all?”

“I’m not sure if you’re testing me or you’re seriously not thinking about it clearly,” he smirked. “It could be the Scars messing with your head though, I understand.”

“A little bit of both, really,” she gave him a weak smile.

“There we go,” he smirked. “That’s the Scarlet I love.” He tossed his mind in thought. “Scarlet, you know about the three elements of a pony as well as anypony else: Body, Mind, and Disposition. They are attracted to each other by the other two. Get them together with a capable pony, and you can revive ponies, given the right circumstances.”

“Like mom.”

“Right.”

“So what?”

“But you also know that it’s not as black and white as that. You’ve seen your mother work her magic before. Each of those elements are labeled, but that doesn’t mean that they are all independent of one another entirely.

“Mind, Body, and Disposition are so intimately related to one another. You’d have a hard time ripping any of those three elements from the other two without having some fragments clinging on.”

Scarlet let his thoughts sink in. “I get it. You’re saying that if you are my dad’s disposition, that you might have traces of his mind lingering about in there?”

“Well, not in here,” he pointed to himself. “There.”

She followed his extended hoof. It pointed straight towards the burning coat. “My outfit?”

“I’m not sure why, but something must’ve happened. Before tonight, this coat was where I rested. Tucked away neatly behind that locked door back home.”

“I don’t understand,” Scarlet said. “What changed? And how did you get locked up in the coat? Your body and mind were buried and destroyed. You should’ve been recycled like anypony else.”

“I know. It bothers me a lot too,” he leaned in his seat. “I have nothing in the fragments of the mind that came with me that could help either. If only I did.”

“What do you think it was?”

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “But something kept me stuck here in this world. And whatever it was, I think it’s finally decided to let me go.”

“The coat burning?”

“Yes. Something has allowed me to roam away from the coat. That fire you see there? Take a good look at it.”

Scarlet looked into the fire with more intensity. Within the burning embers, she could spot traces of blue tinted smoke wafting up towards the top of the train, traces of it being sucked out of the open windows in the cart. Her father’s form also shared the appearance of the rising smoke, traces of disposition flickering off of his body like a light steam.

“Does it make sense to you?” Conroy scratched the back of his head again. “I’m doing all I can on my end.”

“Yeah,” Scarlet slouched again. “It does. If it’s not the Scars’ doing.”

“True,” Conroy followed her example. “If there were anypony else here, we’d know for sure.”

He heard her mumble in response. He looked at her form, cringing again from another gut twisting pain. Her body was still trembling slightly. Conroy lifted himself off of his bench, slowly making his way over to Scarlet’s side.

She gasped when she felt his body touch hers. She could feel his warm blue coat against her pale white, the familiar fragrance of strong coffee finally hitting her. Whatever he was, he smelled like home.

“So why exactly are you here again?” Scarlet’s voice came out like a whimper.

“To do what I always do. Watch over you.”

“Until the end.”

He ran a hoof through her mane. “Yes. Until the end.”

She pulled herself closer to him. “I guess… it wouldn’t be too bad to go this way.”

Conroy winced as she coughed against him, her body jumping with each heave. “It’s what I’ve been here for, ever since the beginning. We can always talk about anything else too, if you want.”

“No,” she replied, snuggling up against him. “This is fine. Perfectly fine.”

Minutes passed, the train starting to slow down as it reached its destination. Buildings could be seen through the windows of the sleeping city. Lights shone down the empty streets, with a small drizzle of snowfall blanketing the thick layer of snow from earlier.

The fire continued to burn. The hat was almost entirely gone, only a single sleeve remaining of the coat. The fire was fading, slowly growing smaller with each passing moment.

“I miss you,” Scarlet mumbled again, her voice far weaker than it had ever been throughout the entire ride.

Conroy remained silent.

“I don’t care about whatever I said back at Slate’s house. I’m… glad that you and mom raised me the way you did. Things could’ve been better perhaps, but I think that what I ended up with was still good.”

“You think so?” he finally asked.

“It was good enough for me.”

He continued to pet her. The train snapped, finally coming to a full stop following the whine of the tires underneath.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assured her. “Just think about things that make you happy.”

Scarlet looked up to her father. “I know. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s my girl,” he lowered his muzzle to hers. He let the tip of his nose press up against hers, letting it sit for a few seconds before breaking away.

“Just about ready?”

Scarlet heard another familiar voice, this time, followed by the sound of hoofsteps coming from the rear of the cart. Scarlet lifted herself up to her feet, following her father. A pony stood several feet away, a smile plastered on his face that rivaled Conroy’s. His bright blue coat stood out against the train, his black and white hair bobbing with each step.

“Locks?” Scarlet gasped. “How did you… were you waiting at the station?”

Detective Domino Locks just grinned at the mare. “It’s time. For all of us.”

“Right,” Conroy walked over to Locks’ side. “This is it, Scarlet.”

Another pull against her flank threw her balance off. Conroy and Locks both flinched, stopping as the youngest detective managed to keep herself on all fours.

“I… I suppose I’m ready.”

“Hey Scarlet,” Locks spoke. The flame completed the coat, licking up the final fragment before evaporating into the air. Her entire outfit had been eaten up. “Go and tell everypony the good news.”

“What?”

“Excuse me ma’am, but we’ve arrived in Canterlot,” another voice came from the other end of the cart.

Scarlet turned to meet the conductor. He pulled open the door to the outside, letting in the chilling bite of the winter weather. “You need to go.”

“I will,” Scarlet said, turning back to her father and friend.

They were gone. No burn marks were shown against the ground where her outfit was either. All traces of the disposition had vanished.

“You’d better hurry, miss. The weather’s only going to get worse.” He hurried Scarlet along.

She shuffled out of the train, onto the boarding platform. Her body trembled from the blast of winter air from outside, hearing the slam of the cart as the conductor moved along in his duties.

That’s when it hit. Harder than ever that entire night. The Scars attacked her with its full might, forcing her to her knees with a burning sensation that seized her entire body. She stumbled across the platform, walking aimlessly until she fell against the bench near the building. She gasped for air, tears flowing down the corners of her eyes. She clenched her teeth, seeing the road that lead towards the center of town. She had a long way to walk to the Agency.

On the bench next to her was another. Somepony she hadn’t seen during her Scars’ fit. The pony was laden in a dark black coat, blocking off any identifiable features. The creature in the coat budged its head slightly towards her direction, the hood shifting no more than an inch as Scarlet stumbled.

“S-Sorry. I’ll be… I’ll be going now,” Scarlet barely managed to stammer out. She coughed at the end, feeling more blood rush out of her mouth with each one. It stained the snow along the side of the building, the gray pony pulling her weight until she could manage to stand all on her own again. She turned back to the hooded figure, who continued to look at her.

“Sorry,” she spoke again, beginning her slow road towards the Agency.

The creature in the hood lifted a hoof, grabbing the top and pulling it down to the sides of her neck.

The pony underneath looked at the poor, dying mare. The lantern that illuminated the bench from the train station hit her with light, swinging around against a gust of wind. It illuminated her red coat and flaming mane, shining through the gaping hole where one of her eyes should’ve been.

“Good-bye, Scarlet Trace,” she softly whispered, pulling her hood back over her head.

RIGHT BEFORE DAWN

Voices poisoned her head. Scarlet’s voice leaked through her lips as nothing more than a rambling note. She couldn’t hear herself through the constant pounding against her head and flank.

“Is it time?”

There it was again. Over and over, dozens of times at once. The question continued to be asked periodically, each time the voice growing stronger. The volume was pushing down against her back, forcing her body to stop every few feet. She coughed, blood freely flowing from her mouth now, dribbling against the snowy streets of Canterlot. She could barely manage to lift her hooves, dragging herself through most of the road.

Her surroundings came to her as nothing more than a blur, unable to really identify anything that was more than several feet ahead. Buildings meshed together in a slather of blues and blacks, the snow smearing itself against the ground in a fuzzy, messy slush. Scarlet could barely make heads or tails of her surroundings, pulling herself towards her destination with a cry for each step.

The Scars were hurting far more than ever before. Her eyes were red and dry, her tears long since gone from the train station. She still sniffled here and there, fighting against both the disease and the oppressive weather. A wind blew against her, making her fight for each step. Her mane and tail were snatched by the wind, the rest of her body falling onto her haunches.

She was drained, all of the energy sucked right out of her. She pulled herself up again, her eyes slowly starting to fade.

It couldn’t end here, in the middle of the street. If she could even muster the capacity to think, she’d fight for her life even harder knowing that. Instead, she barely managed to lift herself onto her hooves.

It was time to die. Time to forget about her discovery with Slate. To throw away all of her knowledge on Nixie and Lada. To say goodbye to the alicorn trapped back in the ruins of Mount Ignis.

Time to leave her mother, her job, and all of her friends behind. To bid farewell to the cafe, where she, Locks, Amy, and Jessica would go between assignments to catch up and just talk to one another. That cafe where she had made a toast with Locks, a promise to meet up again after the Scars case was broken.

Scarlet turned to her cutie mark, that ever present magnifying glass. She grimaced, cursing it with the mangled words that came through her bloodstained teeth. She dragged herself another foot forward, opposing the Scars’ final attack with all that she could muster.

“Is it time?”

Scarlet shook her head, making her tumble before falling onto her knees. She gasped, coughing more blood out in front of her. Her eyes struggled to focus, trying desperately to stay open until the very end.

Two pairs of black legs stood against the snow in front of her. They paused, waiting for Scarlet to look up at their owner. Another voice came through, a panting voice riddled with exhaustion.The cold air billowed from the pony’s mouth as Scarlet took in the small, lithe form.

Scarlet’s eyes ached, tears starting to form despite having cried herself to oblivion. Seeing the face of a familiar pony was all she needed. She felt her weight bear down on her knees harder, all of the energy slowly creeping out of her body.

Jessica looked horrible. Her mane was tangled and worn, hair curling up on all sides. Her eyes were sagged with fatigue, deep bulges hanging underneath. Her smile was gone, and her form drooped, much like Scarlet’s.

Scarlet looked back up into her orange irises, wishing for the unicorn to say anything.

Jessica’s coat was soaked with her own tears. She looked at Scarlet with apologetic eyes. Her lips moved, though no sound came from them.

Scarlet looked at Jessica, confusion strewn about her dying face.

The black mare took another step forward.

“Scarlet,” her voice finally rang in Scarlet’s ears. “I’m sorry.”

“Is it time?”

The tears started to pour down Scarlet’s face again.

“Locks and Amy are dead.”

Her body froze in the snow. In that instance, she fell to the ground, not quite unconscious, but so close that only her senses of touch and hearing remained intact. She felt the cold ground hit her hard, the bite of the icy snow surrounding her.

A faint voice, muttering over time. It was impossible to hear. But she felt it there. A piercing cry erupted from the void. One final pull smashed what little remained of her consciousness to pieces.

Scarlet Trace felt her mind silently fade into the darkness.

Author's Notes:

2 of 4 new chapters. Enjoy!
G. R.