Mysty smacked her lips together after parting from her flask, waving some of her forelock out from her eyes. The sheen from the flask shimmered as it swung down to her chest, suspended by a thread that slung lazily from her neck.

The air was thick with a mixture of dew and trace elements of magic that flowed gently from the grass and the dirt under each tombstone. Statues adorned some of the plots of land, mostly from the upper echelon of ponies in Canterlot; each of them huddled near one another for a closure that most were sure their decaying bodies would appreciate.

Mystery Hart took in another deep breath, a mist visible in the atmosphere upon exhale. Her daughter's coat hung off of her back, swinging from side to side with her shaky strides. She could still taste the bitterness of the alcohol she carried around her neck, rubbing her eyes to get a better view of the blurry dirt path that networked around each major plot of land in the cemetery.

"It's about time I had a lead," Mysty talked amongst her dead audience. "Not that it was getting boring talking to the lot of you. I know you fellas understand."

A gentle silence responded to her words. She acknowledged the solitude of the graveyard and continued to walk. The dew thickened as she followed the road in front of her. Frustrated at the combination of darkness, and having difficulty as a result of her beer goggles, she tapped a sling that also hung from her neck.

The small machine had a stem that ran up parallel to her neck, arching over her head. At the tip of the stem was a small bubble shaped glass. Upon flicking at the stem once more, a small insect stirred within the glass. It fluttered around, creating light as it did, the shine burning brighter with its movements. Her lantern propped up, giving her just enough vision to continue to work through the mist.

She arrived at a special plot of land. Just as it was in the city, this site was blocked off by a regal wall that distinguished the dead's wealth. Golden figureheads and pearls adorned the graves excessively. Hart gagged at some of the designs, grabbing her flask and taking another quick shot before she continued.

"This must be it," she slurred out, stopping at a distinguished grave site. She sat down, taking in a deep breath, running her hooves gently across the ground. She removed the coat from her body, draping it over the tombstone that hung at the peak of the disturbed land.

A rock along the road tumbled over, creating a racket that alerted Mysty. She held her breath, tapping her lantern harder to emit more light. She grabbed the bulb by a hoof, pointing it straight at the path she had just come from. Hoofsteps could be heard approaching her through the fog. She ripped her flask off of her neck and tucked it inside one of the pockets in Scarlet's old coat.

Two figures exposed themselves in her light. She winced when she saw their forms reveal themselves. One, an older colt, with his silver mane pulled up and back as always. He wore a striped blue vest, and had a distinguishable watch strapped around his left foreleg.

The other pony was an alicorn, towering over the colt's height. Her mane and tail defied gravity, flowing whichever way the magic bestowed upon her chose. Her pointed horn pulsed, emitting their own brand of light that the pair used to follow the path. Royal boots and a crown flickered in Mysty's light, and her purple eyes hardened upon meeting with Mysty's pink.

"Flex. Celestia. I never thought I'd see you two wandering about here," she greeted the pair.

"Wandering, huh," Steele smothered a hoof into the dirt, "We've been looking for you."

"For me? What would you want from me?"

"Nothing much," he replied, "We were given reports by both Scarlet and Locks that included interactions with you in them. I'd rather not overlook any detail in the case this time through."

"And Celestia?"

Celestia looked upon Mysty with curiosity. "I apologize for the abrupt visit, Hart. Were you busy?"

"A tad," Mysty hiccuped, "but nothing that can't wait a few minutes. What do you two want?"

"Scarlet and Locks have told you about the case, right?"

"Both of the cases, yes," Mysty frowned at the mention. "Steele, why didn't you tell me first?"

"You resigned from the Agency, remember? You know the policy. We don't try to involve third party sources unless it's completely necessary."

"I know the damn policy," Mysty barked. "I just didn't expect you to toss Scarlet into the mix. I thought you had more sense than that."

Steele looked down. "I'm sorry Mysty, but there wasn't much choice. I feel like Locks and Scarlet are the only shot we have right now at cracking these cases."

Mysty turned away from him. "Can you imagine what Conroy would say right now if he knew?"

"Easily," Steele replied. "I knew him pretty well too, Mysty. He'd have me turned inside out."

Mysty sat down, her back still turned at the pair. "It'd make me feel better. I miss him, Steele. I miss those times."

"I think we all share that sentiment," Celestia added. "Things haven't quite been as efficient without him."

The mother turned back to Steele, meeting his glance halfway, "Where is Scarlet?"

"On the train back to Ponyville, I assume," Steele answered her sternly.

"I see. And where is she staying at?"

"Twilight Sparkle's house," Celestia added, "She'll be in good hooves as long as she stays with her."

Hart snorted, "Normally I'd trust in your judgment Princess, but being near an Element doesn't guarantee her safety."

"I understand that, but it's our best option right now," the Princess sighed.

Mysty turned completely towards the pair, aggression still drawn on her expression. "Exactly how much danger is Scarlet in, if she's working on this case?"

Steele rubbed against the dirt on the ground with another hoof. "To tell you the truth, Mysty, I wouldn't know for sure. Everypony working on the case is dancing with fire though. I can guarantee that. Even the Princess and I."

"Danger against what, exactly?"

"Well, against whatever ended Conroy's life," he said. "I like to think that the mystery behind the murderer is what makes everything so much more lethal."

Mysty walked back to her coat, minding the tombstone. She grabbed the flask from within, and took another drink while still in plain view of the two.

"That's...highly inappropriate," Steele defended the dead.

"Oh shut up," she snapped at him, "The dead appreciate me far more than they appreciate you. Tell me Steele, how many of these tombs were filled by ponies who worked for you?"

Steele took a step towards her in frustration. An ivory foreleg from his highness cut him off. "We're getting off topic, Steele. Remember why we came here."

"Oh, so it wasn't just a visit," Mysty mocked the pair. "It's always a part of the agenda."

"Are you finished with the insults?" Steele asked her. "I'd like to move on to what business we have here."

Mysty tapped her chin. "I suppose we're done for now," she took another drink before returning the flask to her coat.

"Since we've received the new information from the reports and from Conroy's personal study, we thought it time to come to you and ask a few questions again. I'd be helpful if you'd comply with us fully and completely."

"Whatever."

"Thank you," Steele replied hastily. "Can you recall anything particular about Conroy following up to the day that he passed? He wasn't at the Agency all that much leading up to that night."

"He was on that independent research project, so I'd imagine you wouldn't have seen him much," Mysty recalled. "I already told you two before though; he was feeling sick and tired most of the time. I shared the letters with you before.

"Dizziness, melancholy about his work, and when he would come home, he'd collapse on the couch without a second thought," she read off the symptoms. "He always complained that he couldn't see right."

Celestia wrote down everything Mysty was saying as Steele pressed on. "You mentioned back then that he spoke about the Cutie Pox?"

"Yes," she grimaced at the Princess' scribbling, "Before heading off to Ponyville, he asked if I had ever read anything on the Cutie Pox."

"Anything specific?"

"No," she almost growled, "just the sickness in general. I don't know much more about that than anypony else would. It vanished before it could be studied, remember?"

Steele tapped the Princess on the leg. "That should be about enough. We've probed her before. None of the information has changed."

"So I see the two of you are approaching it from another angle as well," Mysty noticed.

"Yeah. This time I'm putting every little bit of energy I can into the project. I don't want to leave anything untouched, even if it's been questioned to death."

"Don't worry yourself Flex. Oddly enough, beating a dead horse is appropriate here in hell," Mysty presented the graveyard to them.

Steele and Celestia refused to respond to her remark.

"Mrs. Hart," Celestia called out to her, "I'll ask this only once, since Steele hasn't brought it up yet."

"I'm listening."

"We're trying to gather all of the ponies that were working on the case back when Conroy was first murdered. You're one of the most insightful sources we had back then."

Mysty turned her full attention to the Princess. "You...you're really asking me...?"

Celestia nodded. "If you accept, we can safeguard you. You'd have the royal army’s protection and admission to documents that only Steele and I can access."

Mystery Hart took a moment to consider it. She looked at her majesty, then back at Steele. "Sorry Princess," she shook her head in defiance, "But I'm already working on the case independently, and I would like for it to stay that way."

"You are?" Celestia looked puzzled.

"Of course," Mysty gave them a sarcastic smile, "Now that Scarlet's off on her own, I have all the time in the world to investigate. I have plenty of resources."

"Do you? Who? What?" Steele tried to pry away at her secrets.

Mysty put a hoof to her lips. "It's a secret. It's an angle that I doubt either of you would understand right now. I suggest you two just keep working at it from your end. This is gonna be big. Bigger than either of you can imagine or dream."

"I was afraid this was how it'd turn out," Steele vented, "Well, I wish you luck. We'll keep an open connection with you. "Mysty," he called her name one more time, this time without the usual rasp in his voice. The widowed mare turned around, curiosity grabbing her attention.

"Even though we have our differences, I just want you to understand that I still respect the hell out of you and your family. You just need to know that everypony hurt that day. You didn't just lose your husband. I lost my best friend, too. "I guess what I'm trying to get at," Steele took a heavy breath, "Is if we find anything from Scarlet, Locks, or amongst ourselves, we'll be more than willing to share. I'd hope that whatever it is you're doing, that you'd follow through on the same deal. We want the truth just as much as you do, despite how you feel about us."

Celestia motioned Steele to the path. They turned around and started moving through the thick air once again.

"I'll do it, Flex," Mysty called out to the two ponies through the mist. "I'll play along, but know that it changes nothing."

Steele turned his head to the side and nodded without stopping his pace.

"I'm serious! And keep Scarlet safe, you hear me! If anything happens to her, I'll crush you both!"

The two ponies paused at her threat. Without turning back, they took their leave, letting Mysty get back to the grave site.

=====

"She'll crush us both," Celestia repeated Hart's words after they left the fog. "You hear her?"

"Of course," Steele replied to his friend. "Think she'll keep her word on that?"

"I wouldn't doubt it," Celestia replied, giving Steele a weak smile.

"From an angle we can't comprehend," Steele's ears stood on end, "Princess, do you think that maybe...?"

"It's possible," Celestia interrupted. "I'll be having guards keep a close eye on her from a distance. If she's finally realized her potential, then I have to do what I can to keep her safe, even if it's against her will."

"How fortunate for her," Steele groaned. "I'm surrounded by ponies that were gifted by the gods."

"And you weren't blessed?"

"I fought tooth and hoof to get where I am now. You wouldn't be surprised if I told you that I had to step on some ponies before I became commissioner back at Canterlot P.D. Then you have people like Conroy, Mysty, and Locks running around, who succeed on pure, genuine talent."

"You have tenacity. You're tougher than metal, Steele," Celestia tried to cheer him up. "But I see what you mean," Celestia started, "Which is why I was so hesitant to restart the investigation. We've lost one out of those three, and the other one is in grave danger. I don't want to lose any more Artifacts."

"But why are they so important, Princess? You put more effort into them than you do for the Elements."

Celestia looked straight ahead, "That's true, but unlike the Elements, Artifacts don't have the magical backing of the Elements of Harmony. They're too vulnerable, and far too valuable to allow themselves to be destroyed.

"And as far as Artifacts go, you need to remember that magical disposition is unique for everypony. Nopony can do what those three can do. Not even the Elements. And to become an Artifact..."

"It takes so much more than focus study, right?"

"Exactly," Celestia continued. "The Artifacts are the last remaining ponies we have that share a connection to our immediate ancestors from long before my time. They're priceless. Absolutely priceless."

"Aaaand one of them is threatening us," Steele thought about Mysty's words again. "She'll carry through if she was serious. If she's really tapped into her abilities, we can't hurt her because of your protocol for these 'Artifacts'."

Celestia let out a small laugh. "Even if she didn't have any special abilities, you'd never want to be at odds with an angry mother."

"But is she really an issue if she opposes us?"

Celestia looked back at the Cemetery. "I have a good idea of what she's capable of, Flex. If I'm correct in my assumption, then..."

"Then...what?"

"Then aside from Luna, Jessica, and myself, and as long as she's in that cemetery, then Mystery Hart's probably one of the most dangerous ponies in Canterlot."

=====

"Thank god they're gone," Mysty heaved a sigh of relief. "Any longer and I might've missed out on my opportunity."

She returned her attention to the tombstone. She grabbed her flask and downed half of the remainder. She growled as the burning sensation that followed the drink ran down her throat, shivering and whipping her tail as she did.

"There are three pieces to a pony's existence," she sat up sloppily at the foot of the grave. "The physical body, which is buried here," she ran her hoof against the grass nearby, "their magical disposition," she blew air into the mist, smiling as the bits of magic that clung to the dew twinkled in the sky, "and their spirit, which is sealed away in hell...or Tartarus, whatever."

The mist around her blew air through Mysty's mane. It gathered into a cluster at the foot of the grave.

"You gather the pieces, and they'll naturally start to flow back to one another. Gather a majority, and then the third is sure to find its place. Like a magnet."

Sparks of magic pushed the mist towards the grave.

"The body gives them form, the magic gives them potential, and the spirit is the spark that gives them life."

The dew started to funnel into a thick pillar above the tombstone.

"They're essentially pieces to a puzzle," Mysty laughed, "and if there's one thing I love, it's a difficult puzzle."

A great wind startled Mystery Hart, pulling the insect from her lantern and blowing it away into the sky. Scarlet's coat hung for dear life on the tombstone, and a chunk of mist from the sky was sucked straight into a vortex that the pillar of magic had created in front of her.

A form molded from the magic in the air. Another gust of wind blew from the source of the magic, forcing Mysty to lower her head against the ground to keep herself steady. She hiccuped from the drink, trying her best to focus on what was happening in front of her.

She picked her head up after the gust vanished. The form in front of her was different yet again. It looked glued against the ground, connected to the dirt by four legs that were connected to a lithe body. Her neck and head formed, a pointed horn created on her head to identify her specie. Her mane grew from her head and flank, naturally curling into her body.

The form took in a deep breath. Magic from the dew around them was sucked in graciously at the form in front of her, making her body glow and her existence less transparent. Only a chilled air came from her exhaled breath. The figure stretched and rotated her neck, whipping her tail against her leg.

Mysty smiled at the form, who finally gave her some attention. Mysty peered at the tombstone behind the form, still visible through the mass it had accrued.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Nixie Hope."

The pony attached to the ground turned at the sound of the name. "Hm? Me?"

"Yes, you."

"W-wait, what?"

"Relax honey," Mysty stammered. "It's natural to be a little dizzy or confused. Trust me, I've done this plenty of times already."

The figure of Nixie Hope tried to move. Her legs lifted against the ground, but never left the dirt, instead just stretching and readjusting whenever she shifted.

"W-what!? What in the world is this?!" Nixie looked back at Mysty. "Who are you!?"

"Sshhh," Mysty whispered. "Just take another breath. Relax, you're just dead."

Nixie looked back at her form. She could see the ground through her body. "R-right. Dead. Right! That's right. I'm dead."

Mysty put another hoof to her mouth. "You're taking this quite well. Right. Now just calm down."

"Umm...why am I dead?" Nixie asked. The realization finally hit her, as if her brain had just clicked, "WAIT, I'M DEAD!? HOW?!"

Mysty winced. "I...was kinda hoping you could tell me that. S'not an awfully good sign."

Nixie sat on the ground on top of the grave, looking straight back at Mysty. "So...so I'm dead," she curled her body inward.

"You...you weren't aware? Strange...most spirits I talk to know they're dead."

"Of course I didn't know!" Nixie shouted.

"Sshh! Just relax. You're dead, and I can't do anything about that, so just...just relax."

"This is awful," Nixie moaned, "I'm...I'm really dead." She gasped, "Lada, I need to see Lada!"

"Absolutely not," Mysty shut her up. "Look, it's taken far too much effort to talk to you, and I don't know if I can ever do this again, your spirit is way too disoriented. Besides, you can't leave this plot above your grave anyways, otherwise you'd just return to he-

"I mean Tartarus."

Nixie turned around, spotting the jacket atop the grave. She looked at the tombstone.

"Nixie Hope," she read, "It...It really is me...I'm really dead." Nixie spotted the half-empty flask hanging lazily from the coat's inner pocket. "That's...highly inapp-"

"YES, I KNOW," Mysty rubbed her face with an angry hoof. "Look, channeling this magic through me and into you is VERY hard, okay? It's easier to do when I'm drunk, so just...let that go, okay?"

"Y-yes ma'am," Nixie abided, scared of the flare in Mysty's eyes.

"So you're Nixie Hope. Famous fashionista in many respects," Mysty started.

"That's right," Nixie hesitated.

"Great designs. Approved of the biggest merger in fashion history. Found to have no cutie mark..."

Nixie's ears drooped at the last story.

"Died mysteriously at her last fashion show."

Nixie almost jumped from her plot. "What?" She looked at the date of her death, engraved neatly along her tombstone. "That...That's when I died? I died during the show?!"

"That's what I brought you back for," Mysty replied. "I wanted to see if you could remember everything possible that lead up to your death. Also," she continued, "Your sister is fine. I did my homework. She works from home and distributes her work to different retailers throughout Canterlot."

"How...how long has it been? Is she okay?"

"I imagine she's nice and healthy," Mysty said. "She still has a ton of your assets to keep her alive tenfold, and she gets paid well for her work. It's been quite some time since you passed on, though."

Nixie looked back at the year of her death. "So it's been...?"

"Ten years, Nixie Hope. You've been dead for ten years."

"Ten," she let the words slip through her lips, "Ten years. Lada's sixteen, then." She looked at the ground, holding in nonexistent tears that her body was unable to create.

"Nixie Hope, although I wish I could give you comfort, I don't really have the capability to do that," Mysty told the saddened ghost-mare. "However, I need you for something else that relates to your death, but I need to explain a bit before I can talk to you about your circumstances."

Nixie gulped.

"If you don't want to take part, then that's fine. I'll release your magical disposition and you can return to Tartarus."

"What," Nixie stuttered, "W-what is this for?"

Mystery Hart relayed all of her information to the specter, starting with her and Conroy's relationship, and working down to Scarlet and Locks' investigation. The dew in the air thinned out partially as the sun started to breach the northern Canterlot hills.

Nixie marinated in the morning rays, her form glowing brighter. "Sorry. This is just so much to take in. It's not every day that you wake up and find yourself like this," she lifted a hoof, wincing when her limb stretched.

"I understand that, but I need you to steel through it. This is important to those still living, including your sister."

Nixie Hope could only nod, her face overwhelmed by disappointment. "S-so you think they'll approach Lada about all of this?"

"I imagine they've already done so," Mysty replied. "Scarlet's in Ponyville investigating a related case, but Detective Locks is working here in Canterlot. We just got a lead from some paper clippings about you from my late husband, so it wouldn't surprise me if Steele sent Locks and his partner to Lada's house."

"Lada," Nixie called out to her sister. "Mrs. Hart, do you have those clippings on you?"

"Not at the moment, but I've read through them several times since I let Scarlet look at Conroy's study. Trust me," Mysty scooted up to her form, "There's not much information. You were found dead at the bottom of a staircase backstage during your last show. There was no proof of a struggle, any magical residue, or anything of that sort. It's unsolved as far as the Agency is considered."

"Funny," Nixie shuddered, "I'd have thought Tanita would be behind it, if anything. We weren't on especially good terms leading up to the day of the show."

"That's what everypony thought too, but she had no contact with you prior if the sources are reliable, and even if she was, she vanished into thin air on that same day. She's been missing ever since."

"So you need me to remember everything I can," Nixie recalled. "How long do I have?"

Mystery Hart reached to the coat, pulling the flask out. "You have until about two hours after this flask is drained," she smiled. "You can start from anywhere you want. Just try to make it quick."

"Well," Nixie watched as Mysty downed another large gulp, "That's not much time. I'll just start on the day of."

"Do what you wish."

=====

TEN YEARS AGO

"Everything's nearly set to go, Ms. Hope," a voice called out from the stage below. Nixie picked herself up from out of her seat in her dressing room, coughing as she did so. She prodded the door open and stole a glance of the hallway outside. A colt wheeling a stage light tore down the open hallway, and a ton of commotion gave life to the lone staircase leading to the first level of the stadium.

"I'll be out soon, don't worry about me," Nixie Hope tried her best to shout back at the voice. She closed the door and slipped back into her chair, staring straight at the mirror in front of her.

She was disgusted with her face. Bags hung underneath her eyes as a result of many nights interrupted by a terrible cough. Her head felt light whenever she picked herself off of her seat or out of her bed, and even thinking of so much as a sprint would give her joints aches and pains.

"I know she did this all to see me off, but it just feels so pointless," Nixie croaked. She winced at the sound of a knock at the door. It opened wide, giving the yellow mare on the other end space to enter. Her red tinted glasses blocked her black-eye from the public.

"Nixie, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered Tanita, "But I still don't see why any of this is necessary."

"We're saying farewell to one of the greatest ponies to ever grace the business. Doesn't it strike you as appropriate?" Helm took another step towards her.

Nixie rubbed her temples, shaking off a spell of dizziness. "Look, I really do appreciate all of the hard work, and honestly, I'm surprised you managed to get Hoity Toity in on the entire charade, but this seems like it's a bit overdone."

"Whining about it now won't do you any good," Tanita fixed her glasses, "Besides, it's a gift. You'd be awful disrespectful to every single pony who helped contribute to such a memorable night if you declined it. It might not be my place to say," the fat pony cleared her throat, "But I'm sure that you'd prefer to go out on a good note, right?"

"T, don't pretend like we're not friends anymore," Nixie turned around to face her, recognizing the tension in Helm's voice, "We had a little accident, can't we just power through it?"

"I'd love for us to still be friends," Helm looked back at the open door, "But I'm still trying to get over the entire 'abandon-your-friend' bullcrap-stunt you threw at me from out of left field. That's not something that will heal overnight, you know."

"It's been several months," Hope sighed, drinking from a spare cup of water on the dresser before another wave of coughs could catch her.

"And I'm still unemployed. Without your name, I'm just another mediocre, unemployed mare as far as this city goes."

"Don't make me get into this with you right here and now, T," Nixie asked. "I'm not feeling too well right now. I'd rather just be at home."

Tanita Helm stood several feet from Nixie, avoiding eye contact. "Do you think that it could've been any different?"

Hope gave a delayed response, "I can't say. I did what I needed to do. I never really considered the alternatives."

"Typical," Helm spat, "That's just like you. Oh right," she turned around, "taking every detail into account was my job."

"That's enough," Nixie picked herself up out of her chair, ignoring the queasy feeling in her gut. "Look T, I KNOW you're still pissed off at me. I KNOW that I screwed you over, but YOU need to understand that it wasn't something I just absentmindedly looked at like an afterthought!

"Frankly, it blows my mind why you even started doing this little fashion show finale bullshit for me, considering how furious you still are. Look," Nixie pointed to the wall to her left. Helm's eyes followed the trail behind those tinted glasses of hers. On the wall hung a picture of several ponies posing for the camera, poised and dressed up to perfection.

"You see those dresses? Do you see the hard work and dedication that went into those dresses? Hundreds of ponies that worked for us strive towards that goal, towards the recognition that they deserve for their skill and tenacity.

"I. Saved. Those ponies. If I had done anything else, hundreds of ponies like the ones who worked on those dresses would lose sight of that dream!"

"So you just decided to break one heart then, huh," Helm growled at her.

"No," Nixie stamped her hoof on the floor in frustration, "Celestia no! Listen to yourself! Tanita, I didn't break your damn heart. I broke your fucking wallet!"

Helm's body became tense. "What?!"

"It's the money, isn't it?" Nixie accused her partner. "That's why you're so pissed. You lost the source to the mountains of money you've gotten since you started working with me. You lost the power and authority that came with co-owning this business. That's what you're really upset about, isn't it?

"I'm looking out for the ponies. What good could've possibly come from breaking so many hearts Helm?"

Tanita Helm eased up. She turned around and started to calmly walk out of the door, Nixie still seething behind her.

"So that's why you never found your true destiny," Helm spat her venom. "Too busy looking out for everypony else. Always trying to please everypony. Fine. Enjoy a talentless life."

Helm passed the threshold, grabbing the door in a single hoof. She turned her face back to Nixie's, glaring at her through her specs. "The show starts in ten minutes."

The door slammed, leaving Nixie all to herself. She turned back to the mirror with watery eyes and a heavy cough. She gasped at the image in front of her. She raised a hoof to her mouth, rubbing it along her lip. Her eyes looked down at her solitary hoof, moist with her own blood.

=====

Nixie lapped up a dribble of blood that had trailed from her lip. She observed the small marks on her hoof wiping herself with a small cloth to clean the it up. She exhaled, looking at herself in the mirror. A vague taste of copper touched her tongue, causing her to shudder. She swallowed her blood to avoid staining her coat.

Hope couldn't help but think about Helm's parting words while she struggled to clean herself up. "A talentless life. A life without a cutie mark."

Nixie gave another deep cough at the thought, forcing a small scatter across the counter. "Damn. Sorry janitor. I'm doing my best." She looked at the door on the other end of the room, a spare hoof mechanically wiping up the mess she kept making. "Maybe...maybe I should call for help. I don't think this is normal," another cough followed, with another spurt of blood staining the mirror.

"I have talent," she said through her teeth, tinted with red. "How else could I come this far? How else could I have been so successful?"

Nixie walked halfway to the door. She turned back to the mess she had created on the glass. Her eyes fixated on her flank in the mirror. The blood splatter she coughed up aligned perfectly with her blank flank, tiny rivers of blood running down her hind leg. She frowned, rushing back to the mirror with the same cloth.

"Right? I have to have talent to have gotten where I am now...right?"

Another wave of dizziness caused Nixie to lose balance. She stumbled recklessly toward the door. Through the decor, she could hear the sounds of the show preparing to begin. They felt muffled and distant, fading as she slid down the door and to the ground.

She swallowed another small sip of her essence. "Celestia said to just live happily. I can do that...but that just ignores the problem altogether, doesn't it? Everypony deserves a talent, and deserves to create a life off of that talent."

She pulled herself up. "Maybe I can find mine if I retire and get outta here. If it's not on my flank, then that means that fashion...that it was..."

Nixie choked on the sentence, "Fashion was not my destiny."

She battled against the vertigo that fought for control over her senses. "Celestia. Celestia. Where are you now? Where is the justice in this body of mine?" She looked back at the mirror, her backside as empty as it was that morning. "My passion...I guess it was all a lie then."

"NIXIE HOPE," a loud voice banged in her eardrums, "GET DOWN HERE. THE SHOW STARTS IN A MINUTE!"

"T-Tanita, is that you?" Nixie propped herself against the door, unable to recognize the voice. She pinched her eyes closed and focused on the sound. "Tanita! Tanita, where are you?"

"I'M COMING UP THERE!"

Nixie froze. The voice sounded different. Helm's voice wasn't as deep as the one she heard this time. She struggled to stay on her feet, feeling the floor below her rocking about like a ship in the ocean. Hoofsteps could be heard coming to her room, one at a time, with a distinguished clack that Nixie immediately ruled out as belonging to Helm.

"Her shoes don't make that sound," Nixie muttered. She could feel a weak stream of blood moving through the inside of her nose, doing her best to keep it from dripping out..

The steps crept closer to her room, until a final click ended on the other end of the door.

A moment of silence passed as the pony on the other end of the door waited for Nixie to exit the room. She silenced her breathing, feeling the atmosphere around her thicken. Her muscles clenched together, and her form couldn't help but tremble under the presence of the pony on the other end of the door. She could feel the blood in her mouth begin to pool, struggling to swallow it through the anxiety that froze her body..

A large bang shattered the quiet atmosphere in the room. Immediately following a brief pause was another slam, louder than the former. She couldn't contain her excitement any longer.

The mare's energy exploded, Nixie Hope's eyes flared to life. Warmth entered her body, a sharp stinging sensation ran down her spine. She jumped to her feet, and flung the door wide open, darting out of the room in a mindless panic.

She paid no mind to the empty hallway. Nixie didn't give it a second thought when she rushed straight to the staircase that led to the lobby downstairs. The music from the show drowned out any thoughts she had about the night, the only other sound registering in her mind was the knock of her own horseshoes against the floor.

Her body lurched forward. Blood rushed out of her mouth with another cough. Her momentum carried her over the first step, sending her spinning over the staircase.

A loud crack stole the attention of several ponies nearby.

=====

PRESENT

"I doubt you could remember anything after that," Mystery Hart scribbled on a notepad.

"Not a thing," the spectral form of the late Hope replied, rubbing a hoof along her neck. "After that trip...next thing I know, I'm here."

"The bleeding," Mysty seemed lost in thought, "The report did mention that there was a small cloth left in the room that had a small amount of blood on it, and your story checks out with the mirror too." Mystery seemed to be retracing the document in her mind, "The mirror had a stain on it that was wiped in a hurry, so a few traces of blood were taken."

"It didn't feel right when it was happening," Nixie's spirit rubbed at the ground.

"The investigator on the job did a run of the stains to see if you might've had some kind of sickness prior to the fall, but all of the tests came back negative. It doesn't add up though," the older pony looked back at her companion, "Because the way you described it, you were extremely ill, especially if you were coughing up blood. The autopsy doesn't mention a thing about any disease or illness that you might've had before death. There's nothing conclusive save for Lada Hope's personal testimony about your physical condition. It's just not enough."

"I wish I could remember more," Nixie sighed. "I want to help."

"You're doing that plenty," Mysty reassured her, "Besides, most of the dead lack the ability to forge memories after they're dead. No brain to register their experiences for them, see," Mysty poked her head with the eraser end of her pencil. "Your kind can only live in the past. Despite that, you've probably had a pretty good afterlife."

"You can tell something like that? How?"

"Well," Mysty repositioned herself on the floor, "Unless it's just me bullshitting because of the liquor, in my experiences, the more tormented a pony is after they die, the harder it is to revive them."

"Strange. Why?"

"Dead weight, if I had to take a wild guess," Mysty half-joked, holding a hoof to her mouth while she belched. "Almost burped some of it up right there."

"Easy for you to laugh. You still have a life to live," Nixie snorted out another chill of air.

"True, but don't worry. When I die, I'll probably have the same sense of humor that you do."

"Mrs. Hart," Nixie interrupted Hart's drunken banter, "Will I be able to, you know, remember any of this, at least?"

"Well," Hart started, "Since your body, spirit, and distribution are all gathered, I'm pretty sure the memory will be embedded into your mind. The only problem is that it becomes part of the body, and once I let you go from here, you leave your body behind."

"I...I see," Hope whispered back.

"Look, I'm sorry that it's so hard for you, but try not to worry too much about it," Mysty reminded her, "You're dead. This will all be meaningless to you after I release you."

"Lada."

"Even Lada Hope."

Nixie fidgeted, her sadness enveloping her form. "If there is a silver-lining, I suppose it also gets rid of that feeling, too."

"The feeling of being talent-less?"

Nixie nodded.

"That's nonsense," Mysty replied, "You had talent. You just didn't fully embrace it before you died."

Nixie's spirit didn't wish to respond.

"Well," Mysty clapped her notepad shut, "If that's all of the information you have to give me, then I can set you free again. You'll be able to rest in peace from here on out."

"W-wait!" Nixie jumped to the edge of her grave. "Please."

"What else do you need to tell me?"

"Well...it's not something I want to tell you. There's really nothing else I can recall about that night...or anything significant leading up to that point."

"Then I'll see you lat-"

"PLEASE wait," Nixie begged.

"Fine, what exactly are you trying to do?"

"Just let me try something," Nixie gave her first genuine smile to the older mare. She focused herself on the ground, grunting in frustration. Her horn sparked to life for an instant, a bit of magic discharged from the tip.

"I...I can still use magic!"

"Well yeah," Mysty replied matter-of-factually, "You have all three components present. No reason why you wouldn't be able to."

"Mystery Hart, just allow me a single spell. Can you do me that one favor?"

Mysty looked to the ground. "Well, so long as it's not a big one. The Agency and Royal Guard both keep records on some of the more risqué spells. They leave behind a unique residue, and some spells are forbidden. If they find that there was a spell used in a graveyard, then I'm in deep shit. Magic's technically forbidden here."

"I just need to do one last thing," Nixie looked into the distance. She turned to the side, her eyes focused on a specific direction. Her horn flickered with her magical prowess. "I need to save her."

"To save somepony?"

"Lada," Nixie shut her eyes.

Mysty looked at the spell surging at the unicorn's horn. She recognized it immediately. "I see. You two used the Blood Bond spells."

"Yes. Back when I would work at the factory, Lada and I would be separated for long periods of time. We decided to use the spell so that we would never be left alone no matter where we were."

Mysty backed up, grabbing her flask. She frowned when reminded by the container that she had drained it halfway into Nixie's story. "I get it. You never considered the possibility-"

Nixie nodded. "I never thought about whether or not we'd so suddenly die for any reason or another. Such an idea was too depressing at the time. Because we never took precautions about it, when I died, the Blood Bond was never removed."

"That poor child," Mysty softly muttered.

"Lada's been living with an active bond that's linked to an empty shell. She's been fed nothing but emptiness and solitude for the last ten years. I can only imagine the pain she’s felt for all of this time. It's all my fault and I need to fix it before it's too late."

"I've heard about ponies generations past who have died from the negative feedback given by untamed Blood Bond spells. Their health degenerates slowly over time until they die from the loneliness," Mysty added. She looked at the same direction as Nixie. "Your sister has been there, living her life and fighting against that feeling for so long. She must be amazingly strong."

Nixie's grin agreed with Hart. "She's all I had left in the world. I feel awful that I've made her suffer like this." Her spell softly faded. "There. That should do it. Lada will feel the difference any minute now."

Mysty walked up to the ghost, "You did a nice thing, Nixie."

"I can atone for her pain once I get sent back. It's what I deserve."

"Hey, relax," Mysty slung one arm over the spirit. "It wasn't your intention to hurt your sister. You're a good pony, you got that?"

Nixie Hope nodded, hugging Mysty back. She watched in awe as her body passed through. "Right...I'm a ghost. I keep forgetting that." She looked at the older earth pony, whose arm was still clearly leaning around the back of her neck. "How can you do it?"

"I've had practice. Lots of it. It takes a bit of effort, but touching a ghost is possible if you just try hard enough." Hart took several steps back to her starting point. "I think that just about covers everything, Nixie. You ready to return?"

She nodded, "I think so."

"Great. I'm not sure if I can ever bring you back after this though. I've never been able to resurrect a spirit more than once before. You have any last words before you move on to the next life?"

"If you can tell Lada that I'll always love her, that'd be great," Nixie smiled.

"Then that's that. Thank you for everything, Ms. Hope," Mysty put both fore hooves on the grass, concentrating.

"And do me a favor and find that killer," she spoke up again, breaking Mysty's concentration. "If your husband found a link between your daughter and me, then trouble is following right behind us."

"Right," Mysty agreed, "That's what I'm working to prevent." The magical glow that surrounded Nixie's body started to break down, and her form started to dissolve back into the mist that surrounded the graveyard.

"Trust me," Mystery spoke to the vanishing spirit. "We'll get our justice. I promise."

Nixie Hope shut her eyes, waiting for her consciousness to fade away for the rest of eternity. She exploded into a flash of magic and dew, leaving Mystery Hart to herself once again in the wide, quiet cemetery.

=====

A young filly gasped in her seat, alerting the light blue colt sitting across from her. Amethyst swooped to a window situated to the side of the room the two ponies were in, her eyes focused on the magic gathering up in the younger pony's horn.

"Lada, what's wrong!?" Locks picked himself out of his seat, running towards the frozen Lada.

She quickly raised a hoof to stop him, taking in quick gulps of air as the magic disappeared. Her body shuddered, her heart trying to slow its pace.

"I'm fine I think," Lada Hope brushed a bit of her mane out of her face. "I'm...I'm feeling great, actually."

"Great," Locks repeated, "You didn't sound so sure of yourself."

"It's not that," she answered back, "I...I feel amazing right now. Like my body just lost a ton of weight. It's strange."

Locks returned to his seat. He signaled Amy, who was still hovering outside. She tipped her head before rocketing back into the skies. "Strange? How so?"

"Well," Lada started to smile uncontrollably, "I haven't felt this clear and free since..."

"Since," Locks tried to help her finish.

"Since the Blood Bond was severed when Nix died." Lada almost jumped from her seat. "It's gone, Detective."

"Gone?"

"Gone," Lada's voice started to get louder, "Gone! The weight is gone!"

"Lada, what's gone? The Blood Bond?"

Lada started hopping around the den in excitement. "Yes! Gone! Completely gone! The Blood Bond has been removed!"

Locks brought himself to his feet. "But that's impossible. The only one who can remove the bond is the caster, and Nixie's been dead for years."

"This is amazing! I've never felt so good!" Lada celebrated as she leaped over the couch Locks was on. She grabbed a nearby dress she designed herself, and started to dance with it without care.

Locks allowed the young filly to have her fill, waiting a few minutes before he continued back on track. "Lada, I don't mean to kill the stride, but I just need to ask a few more questions, then I'll be out of your mane."

The excited teen started to blush when she realized that he had been watching the entire time. "Oh...r-right. Sorry. I'm sorry Detective. I'm not normally-"

"It's fine," he gave her a warm look, "There's nothing wrong with being happy. You can continue to celebrate your freedom once we're done here."

"Perfect," she jumped back into her seat, leaning towards him.

"You said you didn't link up on the day of her death. The papers said that Helm was last seen heading up the staircase to call her to her seat, but she never came back down. Have you heard anything else?"

Lada's face focused on her own memories. "I don't think so, Detective. I wasn't actually there at the show. I only know as much about Helm or the situation as the papers said."

"And then she just completely disappears from Equestria after the murder," Locks mutters. "Gotta admit, that makes a case against her stronger than against any other pony that was there that night."

The pair of ponies sat looking at the notes Locks had written throughout their entire examination.

Lada was the first one to look up from the papers. "What happens now, sir?"

"Well...I have to document all of this and figure out where to go from here," he said.

"And where will that be?"

"Well," he started, "I want to believe that Helm is the murderer. It makes the most sense, but there's so little evidence to pin on her for that to really work. On top of that, if she really was responsible, and has evaded capture for so long, my chances of finding her are pretty slim."

"Ms. Helm and my sister had their differences," Lada thought aloud, "but do you think that Helm would've really gone so far as to kill her just because she got fired?"

"I honestly don't know what to think about it right now, but I'm sure it'll be more clear when I look at all of the information you've given me after I put it in order," Locks gathered all of his papers. "I just want to find the answers. I want the truth."

"Me too," Lada extended her hoof to him. "I hope I helped you guys out."

"You most certainly did, Lada. Thank you," Locks shook her hoof before heading to the door. "We'll be sure to feed you any information we get regarding Nixie's case, okay?"

"I look forward to it. Good luck, Mr. Locks!"

Amethyst lowered herself to the ground right outside of the door, meeting Locks with a quick whistle. Without responding, he turned around and waved to the little mare, not turning back to the path towards Canterlot until the door was completely shut in front of her.

=====

"This is going to take some time to send off to Steele," Locks broke the silence between him and Amethyst. She responded with another series of chirps, floating just above the ground.

"Apparently her Blood Bond with Nixie was severed during the questioning," Locks recalled to his guardian, "It's strange. Such a thing couldn't have happened unless Nixie was alive. It doesn't make any sense. I'm going to have to report that first and foremost. The residue should give us a trace of where it was cast."

Amy's whistle blew again.

"No, I doubt that it was some kind of delayed reaction. Magic doesn't really work like that unless it's intended, and I doubt Nixie would do that to her sister. Don't you know what happens to a single-ended Blood Bond?"

Locks brushed his mane with a hoof, responding to the shake of Amy's head, "It's basically a form of torture. The bond works so well because the love for the other on the opposite end of the link is sent back to you. It's a feedback loop: You love the other pony, send it their way, and that love is sent right back from their end, intensified by their feelings for you. It just keeps getting siphoned between the users until the bond is shattered.

"But pretend now," Locks looked at Amy, "that one end is completely removed. You can't send any love, or any emotion for that matter, off of something that isn't there. The only thing you can send back is emptiness, because that's all there is waiting on the other end of that bond.

"For all we know, the only reason Lada looked like she was in such a poor condition was purely from the damage the bond did to her, physical and mental. It's a huge strain."

Amy let a long, low whistle out. Her ears flopped in unison with the sound.

"She's strong if she's survived this long. I'm sure she'll make a full recovery," Locks assured his partner. "A follow up never hurts. We'll check in on her sometime soon, okay?"

The brown-coated mare gave a shake of her head with the whistle still in her mouth.

"Now, the question remains," Locks narrowed his eyes at the road in front of him, "How reliable the memories were between their damaged bond."

Amy played a sharp, shocked pitch.

"I'm unsure, Amy," Locks shook his head, his white and black mane drooping over his sides. "Nixie may have been able to transfer a ton of her thoughts to her sister, but it's been nearly a decade. For all we know, the memories could've been tampered with by the two sisters."

Amy made another solitary note.

"Their emotions, Amy. Emotions can skew any memory or experience," he sighed, ruffling up his mane in frustration. "In the end, it's all we've got right now. Doubting the integrity of it will probably only make things worse, but I can't completely discard the fact that they might be lying."

Locks turned to the sky and lost himself in the clouds. "A pony that devoted her entire life to a skill that her body denied. How terrible," he shivered.

Amethyst flinched at the tone of his voice. His words repeated themselves in her thoughts, her eyes unable to help themselves as they looked towards her own cutie mark. The giant, silver shield enveloped most of her flank, symbolizing, with pride, her ability to protect whatever it was she found dear.

"Then," Locks continued, "What was it about the cutie mark that Conroy found so interesting? Scarlet and Nixie...they don't have a link at all," his stride slowed down, "To think they have anything in common is absurd. It's as outrageous as connecting those two to the Cutie Pox epidemic. There's no real connection there! Something's still missing."

The colt's eyes twinkled, his pace came to an abrupt halt, forcing Amy's ears to stand on end, listening for trouble. Locks' eyes focused intently at the emptiness in front of him, an irritating sigh relaxing his body.

"Relax, Amy," Locks ordered to his guardian. "Jessica, you never left, did you?"

With a pop, a pair of orange eyes appeared in front of him, suspended in the air. A smile spread above the eyes, inevitably leading to that familiar, toothy grin.

"Aww, what gave me away this time?"

"An imp like you could really use a practical hobby," Locks groaned. "If I just take a shot in the dark and call out your name, I'm more likely to be right about you stalking us than not."

"Oh zip it, officer," Jessica's upside-down eyes and mouth imitated a frown. "I'm far too exhausted to have to bear your whining."

A pulse of magic engulfed Locks' body, revealing the stalker's form .Her body was drooped on his back, making him carry all of her body weight.

"You cloaked yourself for hours," Locks almost commended her. "You even hid your weight. I didn't feel a thing the entire time."

She shot him another pesky grin. "True. Doing it for so long isn't something I do too often. I'll need to up my endurance," she licked her lips at the end of her sentence. She coiled around his back, moving closer to his ear, "Would you like to help me out sometime, Locky? I get off at eight. Then I get off of work at nine."

Locks gave her a disgusted look. "Don't even try that crap on me, nymph. You're supposed to be in Ponyville."

"Relax," Jessica shrugged off his huffy attitude, "Scarlet's enjoying her time with the Elements right now anyways. There's not too much to do in that quiet little town, the poor filly. Those six know how to make something out of nothing, I'll give them that."

Amy moved back when she saw Locks press his hooves into the concrete. "Get back to Ponyville. Now. You're ignoring orders that Steele gave you."

Jessica looked back at him with a confused glance. "Are you serious, Locks?"

"Now."

The orange mane mare turned to Amethyst, who was watching from the sidelines. "Is this kid actually trying to order me around? Seriously, what the hell's wrong with him?"

Amethyst sat on her haunches, responding with a shrug.

"Steele ordered you to go to Ponyville and protect Scarlet. Now go."

"Ah, so it's about Scarlet, how sweet," Jessica cooed. Her ear twitched at the sound of his voice, slouching while she slid down the side of his body. She kept silent as she walked away from him, sensually swinging her flank about. She looked back at Locks' demanding expression, then towards Amethyst. A spark of magic blinked at her horn's very tip.

Locks jumped back when Jessica's face warped across the small gap she had just made. Her head collided with his, forcing his legs to drag against the ground. He kept his stance, managing to endure the force behind her eager headbutt. Her horn pulsed with a wicked energy that broke the silence with its malevolent cackle.

"Word of advice, hotshot," she hissed, "Don't you dare, under any circumstance, think that an insect like you," Jessica forced herself against him with even more power, "can even begin to order me around!"

Locks' expression flared to life, his crimson eyes shining against her orange, "I dare you to lay a single hoof on me."

"Hah!" Jessica shot a threatening smirk at him, "Are you expecting the little Princess to come help you? Or perhaps Flex, that raggedy old relic?" She pushed against him harder, forcing Locks to back up from her strength. Her horn surged with more magic. "Who do you think gave me diplomatic immunity? Not even they can-"

Jessica nearly tripped against the colt. Locks grunted as he pushed back against her, asserting his natural strength against her magic induced energy. "I don't care how immune you are to the government. You're not invincible."

For the first time in Locks' life, he caught the smallest glimpse of genuine confusion on Jessica Scrawl's face.

'So, she is mortal.'

"Challenge me," Locks asserted, "and I'll send you far beyond any moon Celestia ever could."

The scribe's blood boiled under her skin. She stopped his advance on her, the magic in her horn ripping into the ground. "Do you honestly think the Princess, or anypony, would scare me away?"

Her glare turned violent, the glow of her horn becoming an ominous orange. "I could crush you..."

Amethyst's wings flared to life, kicking her up into the sky.

"I can completely wipe you from the face of this planet..."

In a burse of raw power, Amy shot towards the pair like a missile.

"And by the time Celestia or The Agency would find out that I had done it, I'd be long gone, far beyond these tiny bord-"

Jessica's threat was cut off by a blur of brown and black. It collided with her, slamming both Locks and Jessica into the ground from the impact. Amethyst and Jessica continued with the momentum of the collision, the marepile spinning out of control as Amethyst wrestled for control against Jessica. Before the orange mane pony could gather her bearings, Amethyst reached up at her horn, a small click locking a black beacon around her thickness as the two came to a halt. Locks' guardian pinned the wicked enchantress to the pavement, her hooves pressed against Jessica's body, locking her completely into place.

The two mares caught their breath as Locks approached the pair. Scrawl peeked up at her horn. A small band was wrapped tightly around the base. She focused, summoning a spell to aid her escape. The magic she gathered harmlessly fired into the air from the item.

"Top of the line inhibitors," Jessica's rage started to settle down. "You can't get modifiers this sweet on regular missions. He gave them to you, didn't he? Good call, Steele."

"Even like this," Locks dusted himself off, "And you still play along like it's a game. Amy, are you okay?"

Amethyst whistled back at him, not looking away from Jessica's now sheepish expression. She felt Scrawl's orange tail flick against her backside.

"Just give me a minute, sweetie," Jessica said, "I'll be fine in a moment."

Her eye wandered the strong frame of the guardian on top of her. She caught sight of something on Amy's body as she scanned it.

"The same spot from before, when you left the cafe," she muttered, her eyes darting around to get a better view. Her tail flicked playfully against Amy's flank as her curiosity came to a climax. Amethyst face spelled out her humiliation at being whipped by the mare underneath her.

The guardian turned around towards the enthusiastic, orange tail.

"Surprise!" Jessica shouted in a teasing voice. She blew a gust of air up and into Amethyst's mane, exposing a large portion of her neck to the pony underneath.

Amy immediately recoiled, shuffling off of Jessica after a brief freeze. Locks quickly moved in front of his guardian, not yet realizing what had happened.

"What was that?" he asked Jessica, "What did you do?"

"Just thought I'd vent all of that hot air of mine," she giggled like a child. She looked over to Amethyst, who was now staring at her with a face of sheer horror.

Amy stammered her whistles after struggling to wrap her lips around the object.

Jessica's smile widened, sitting herself up and tossing her short mane behind her head, exposing her own neck. With a single hoof, she pinned down a starting point on one side of her throat. Ecstasy radiated from her face as she slowly traced over her flesh, in a grizzly, violent zigzag, across from left to right, ending at a point on the opposite end of her neck.

"Your Agency file never mentioned that," she chuckled, retracing the symbol faster. "Now it all makes perfect sense." She looked at the whistle on Amy's neck. "And here I thought you were just trying to be cute."

Amy, in a move that startled Locks, brushed up against his side, almost huddling between his front and back legs like a child. As Amy's pleading eyes linked with Jessica's curiosity, a realization sparked a memory in the trickster's brain.

"You know, I think I've seen that mark somewhere before."

Locks, his voice cooled down but still very aggressive, spat at her, "I don't know what's worse, Scrawl. That you didn't immediately realize the marking, or that you still don't recognize who it's attached to."

"Amethyst and the mark," Jessica nodded to herself. She gasped. "...Amethyst," she looked closer at the cowering Amy, "T-Topaz's daughter!?"

Amy shut her eyes.

"She's...No way, she became," Jessica's expression was filled with shock and awe, "You're telling me that little Topaz's daughter is now the Agency's Amethyst!?"

"Don't say it like that," Locks stamped a foot. "The Agency gave her the name, but don't act like it owns her."

"You...but you were just a friggin' squirt," Jessica's tail wagged. "So it really is true, even somepony like me can learn something new every day!"

"So you remember now," Locks muttered.

"Oh definitely! Like it was yest-"

Jessica paused, slowly realizing what the breach in identity implied. She turned to Amethyst, the large mare's face full of fear and betrayal.

"...I recognize that look," Jessica whispered low enough to be unheard. She turned her back to the two ponies, clearing her throat and shaking her mane. "I'm going."

"Going?" Locks took another step towards her.

"Don't ask. We've already fucked up too many Agency policies with this meeting alone. I need to check up on Scarlet anyways." She started walking away, "You two are busy. You need to make that report and send it to Steele, pronto."

"Hold on," Locks almost shouted at her. She turned back around, removing the magic band on her horn with her hooves. "About what happened-"

"Forget it," she said, "We jumped the gun, and things escalated way out of hoof." She frowned as the magical inhibitor on her head fell to the ground, "Neat things, these inhibitors. I didn't think you'd be smart enough to try and use one of these on me, Amy. Good call, good call. I think my only regret is that this didn't end in us sharing a bed," she frowned playfully at Locks.

"Jessica," he ignored her advances, "Did you really mean what you said?"

"About what? About having sex? I'm game if either or both of you are."

"No, no you idiot," Locks sighed, the tone in his voice getting deeper with each syllable. "Are you so far gone that...that even Princess Celestia and the Agency fail to intimidate you?"

Jessica's magic spiraled around her as the teleportation spell ignited. "Well Locks," she toyed with the question, "Maybe if you threw in the Royal Guard...and probably the Elements of Harmony..."

Locks remained silent.

"Well, I can't quite answer that, sweetheart." She turned to the pair and winked at them. "Just try not to push those buttons again, okay? I hate being ordered around, and I'd rather not waste a body as delicious as yours."

Locks and Amy watched as Jessica exploded out of sight. Her body was flung miles away, towards the small town of Ponyville.

"Only if you keep Scarlet safe, Scrawl."

=====

THREE WEEKS LATER

Scarlet's ravenous eyes ran through Locks' lengthy report, hungry for information after three long weeks of absolutely no new discoveries on her end.

"She had problems with her cutie mark," the red and gray pony said to herself. "Fought with her co-manager, Blood Bonds...dies with no concrete explanation. This is crazy."

She folded up the report and stuffed it back into the files in her drawer in the upstairs loft of the library. She tossed herself on her mattress, letting her limbs dangle in the air above her.

"Dad implied that we have a connection, Nixie," Scarlet spoke aloud, "But what is that connection?"

Scarlet rolled over to her side, "Nixie talked to Celestia about it," Scarlet pondered, "and mom said that dad did the same thing before leaving to Ponyville a long time ago..."

Her body spun to the other end of the mattress, eyeing her flashlight and handcuffs hanging over a leg of the bed, "Everything goes back to the Princess."

"Well, that does it for me," Scarlet rubbed her face. "I'm sure they've figured it out too. It all points back to her. She knows something, and if I know Steele, he's too anxious to approach it. We'd know something more if he had done anything by now."

She gave her new idea a second thought, "And I have the most leverage here." Scarlet stretched her body, lifting herself back into a sitting position on the bed. "That settles it. I'm going to have myself a little talk with the Princess as soon as possible." She looked at her coat, hanging on the wall to the side of her bed, "If she can't tell me anything more than she did to Dad or Nixie, then this case'll fall flat on its face, and I can't let that happen.

"Besides, it's not like I'm having much luck on my end here in town," she sighed, "Nopony knows a damn thing about a missing pony here, and the census is still being reformatted by Twilight."

The young detective rested her head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. "Poor Nixie Hope. She was tormented by her lack of a cutie mark. Celestia told her to live how she was, but her blank flank just ate away at her up until the end. Poor girl couldn't let go."

She glanced down at her body. "And we're connected, somehow." She thought about the magnifying glass on her rump, "How can you hurt me? I know what my destiny is."

Her memories of her last visit with Locks at the cafe played back in her mind. "I mean...I think I know what my destiny is." She turned on the pillow, looking out at the diamond sky outside, "Nixie Hope was never given a direction," Scarlet said, "I...I've always had mine. The connection isn't even similar. So what the hell was dad trying to find in the two of us?"

"And then that day after talking with Applejack for the first time," Scarlet remembered, "Blank Flanks...I never thought I'd ever get the opportunity to see them." She grimaced, "If Applejack says they're all over the place, then I really have lived a sheltered life, haven't I?"

Scarlet let out a weak cough, curiosity on her face. "That came out of nowhere," she laughed. "Itchy throat."

"Scarlet! Come on down! You're missing out! You have all day tomorrow to read that silly report!"

Trace's ears jumped at the sound of Pinkie Pie's voice. She happily jumped off the bed and started for the stairs, the voices of the rest of the Elements downstairs carried up the grand tree house, waiting for her.

'Plus, I've grown pretty fond of the girls,' she thought, trying to remember all of the wackiness that had occurred since her return, 'They can turn anything into an adventure.'

"You didn't have to throw me a "Re-Welcome-To-Ponyville-Party", Pinkie!"

Author's Notes:

Another weekend, another chapter.
Leave comments, likes, favorites, etc if ya want. I appreciate the views.

Until next time,
- G. R.