///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\ ///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\
Chapter IV: A Midnight Shroud

>‘Should I really be doing this? Is this right?’
>You ponder to yourself.
>You're Twilight Sparkle and you're in a real moral conundrum.
>‘It's wrong spying on someone's private life but it's what Shiny wants me to do.’
>"Keep an eye on him, Twily, make sure he's alright." Your brother said to you the other night.
>‘It's what he wants. Of course your brother's right, he's the law after all.’
>Walking down the empty corridor on this Friday evening makes you suddenly aware you're on your own. The girls all said they're all busy tonight. Rainbow flat-out said she's wants nothing to do with him, especially after Wednesday.
>Pinkie and Rarity are pulling extra shifts at their shops. Applejack and Fluttershy say they want a good night's rest for Saturday. And Sunset...
>While doing this would appeal to Sunset's rebellious streak, she said she didn't really want to.
>"Don't get me wrong, I would help out but he's seems like a nice guy. I don't really want to get entangled in anything serious." She mentioned to you at lunch.
>It's quite lucky your personal locker is close to his office, in the history department. You remember the times you begged Celestia to move it closer to the science labs for easier access, rather than running through half of the school and back again for anything important.
>Recently though, you've stopped for the obvious. He leaves his door open and it's useful for eavesdropping.
>Getting close, you hear him having a conservation with that weirdo Mr Combe.
>"It'll be fun, come on."
>"How many times, Salty? No means no."
>‘What's this about?
>Turning the locker dial this way, that way and the other way, the door swings open with a creak.
>Mr Combe whispers something and you can't quite hear it but you're sure you heard your name.
>"I'm not worried, Salty." Mr Endeavour answers.
>"So back on subject, you feel like you'll lose or feeling cheap?"
>"Feeling cheap, especially after what happened to my car!"
>Endeavour with a thump on some heavy.

>‘Still bitter about the car. Tell Pinkie about reigning in her surprises...’
>"All the flavours of the world, Anon..." Mr Combe quips
>"YOU'RE calling me salty? That's rich, sunbeam!" Mr Endeavour laughs.
>Mr Combe joins in, "at least, come to the after-match drinks. There's an Irish bar down Elgood Street we all go to, Silver Shamrock."
>You've heard of the place as a den of criminal activities. A naive thought, you know, but aren't teachers supposed to be above that?
>Fiddling through your chemistry books, kindly lent to you by Dr Menti, you continue listening in.
>"So what times does the poker match wraps up?" Endeavour asks.
>‘Poker? This school has quite a seedy underworld after all...’
>"Half 5, but if you're coming, arrive at 6 so the winner can have the first shout." Combe answers
>"Yeah, I'll come for a few jars then. It'll stop you nagging at me."
>‘Shouts, jars, nagging? What happens at this bar?’
>Confused by their lexicography, you're only vaguely aware that Combe finishes the conservation.
>"It's a date then. See you soon, sweetie."
>"Just one last thing, how do you get an outside line on these phones? I can never remember." Endeavour inquires.
>"Press star so you'll get the dial tone, then punch in the number." Combe answers.
>"Thanks, matey."
>"Anytime. Toodles."
>Mr Combe starts to walk out as you hear him pick up the handset. You get the shock of your life.
>"Remember your history homework, Ms Sparkle. It's due on Monday. I'd hate to see you fall behind." Mr Combe reminded you.
>You turn to face him, grinning nervously.
"Of course not sir! I'll remember!"
>He smiles and walks off to the science department.
>"Ah hello, could you put me through to Tad Caster of the Fine Arts department, please. Yes, I'll hold." You hear Endeavour say.
>You spin back into your locker, continuing to eavesdrop, hearing him drum his fingers on the table.  

>"Taddy! It's me, Nonny."
>‘Taddy? Nonny? Nicknames, maybe?’
>"Look, a change of plan. Can you come down to Canterlot instead? I've got paperwork to go through and I don't want to lug it up to Coltram and ruin the weekend.
>‘Coltram? That place out west, isn't it?’
>"Yeah, it'll ruin the weekend this way instead." He laughs, "you can do some shopping, surely? Buy out Burridges or something, I dunno." He pauses.
>"I know that feeling. I'll prep the spare bedroom then. Look, come through during the afternoon, I'm busy tomorrow morning. I need to go to Oakshott to see Gail, alright?"
>‘Gail? That's his wife. I thought that...’
>"You can ring me when you get to my apartment." Another pause.
>"You've got a memory like a sieve. Gatwick Tower on Hackamore Avenue, in the Old Town.
>‘Doesn't Shimmy live in the Old Town as well? Small world...’
>"Like I said, give me a ring and I'll come running. There's a little shopping centre not far with a coffee shop in it. You can wait there. Anything else you want me to hold your hand through, Taddy?" Another pause.
>"I'll see you tomorrow, then, love. Ta-ta." He puts the handset down, "Bloody woman..." he mutters and starts typing on his computer. Then he starts talking to himself, "Twenty-to four. Mebbe stay another hour..."
>With Endeavour working and no longer talking, you grab a couple of books and stuff them into your rucksack. You zip it up, lock up the locker and walk up the corridor.
>Heading out of the main entrance, you exit into the cold air. At least, you're smart enough to wear your big overcoat today. You knew the weather would worsen over the day.
>Walking on the pathway and sidewalk, you glance at the bare marble pedestal in front of the High School.
>The Portal hasn't been really active in recent months, your magic-scanners show no real spikes to suggest abnormalities.
>After the Everfree Incident, you really wish for a quiet winter, to focus on something new, at least. It seems to be paying off as well. You're just anxious though.
>You remember what Sunset said a few days ago, "Is it Midnight? Is she back?"
>You know Midnight has been driven out, your morning mediations help with your positivity and calmness but she still could return and your recent acts of subversion could be a sign.
>Before her, you would have never have dared to spy on your teachers but now...
>You stop at the crosswalk. Even though some cars drive pass, one stops so it allows to cross to the nearby bus-stop. 
>‘Stop worrying, Twilight, you're overanalysing everything. As per usual...’
>At the stop, you start thinking about something new. About what Endeavour was talking about.
>Whipping your phone out, you text your mother.
- I'm going to be late back, I need to see Sunset about our geography homework -
>Send. Looking up. No bus.
>BEEP BEEP
>‘That was quick.’
- OK, Twily. Thanks for letting me know. But ask her for a lift back, I don't want you caught in the cold -
>‘Aww, thanks, Mom.’
>You blush at the thought.
>‘Now, Sunset.’
- Shim, can I see you tonight? Nothing serious or magical, just important -
>Slipping into your pocket, you check the bus route map on the shelter.
>Canterlot Traction runs most of the bus routes in the city and some in the nearby countryside. Their distinctive white, blue and red buses are always on the road, day or night and no matter the weather.
>You'd normally take the number 5, the east-bound route that takes you home in the suburbs of Cedar Hill but, to visit Sunset in the Old Town, you need the number 8.
>Luckily, Royal Canterlot High School sits on Pascoe Avenue; a main thoroughfare into the city centre so most bus routes use it.

>You look back at the road. Some more cars pass and a number 4 bus pulls up, drops off some commuters and drives off in a cloud of diesel. You cough at the smoke.  
>Consulting the timetable, you find that the number 4 arrives at 3:46 and the next number 8 arrives at 3:49. You check your phone screen; 15:47
>‘Not long now. CT runs a reliable enough service anyway...’
>BEEP BEEP
>‘Must be Shimmy.’
- Of course, Twilight. I'm not busy, you can come on by. Do you want picking up, I bet your still at the school  -
>You reply back,
- Thank you and it's fine, I'm catching the bus. I'll see you soon. BTW, you're* -
>Slipping it back and you look up. Another bus and it's a number 8. You stick your hand out.
>It pulls up and lets you on. You put in the exact fare and walk to an empty seat in the middle.
>The bus sets off and you look around to see your fellow passengers. It's just a collection of city commuters wearing all manner of scarves, hats and coats. As the bus rounds the corner, you look at the school building. It's looks somewhat grim but that might be the stains on the window.
>Rubbing your finger on it, it comes away mucky. 
>‘When was the last time it was cleaned?’
>As bus plods along its route, you retreat into your head...
>‘There's no need to worry about Midnight. She's not coming back. She's not coming back.’
>Bridle Road in the Old Town. The bus sets off, leaving you in the pale light of the shelter.
>One side has two apartment buildings. Once upon a time ago, they were textile mills; weaving all sorts of fabrics and clothing. The other side is a shopping parade for five stores; a clothing shop, a hardware store, a pizza takeaway, a Fidl grocery store and a boarded-up electronics shop.
>Walking to the bottom of the street to Sunset's apartment. You text her.
- I'm on Bridle, walking down now -
>BEEP BEEP 
- On my way down. I'll meet you in the foyer -
>‘I bet she'll agree with my plan, she's going up there anyway.’
>The weather's closing in. The clouds are growing heavy, it might even start snowing. A first snowstorm for this winter.
>Wrapping your jacket tighter around you, you see the doors to Sunset's building. Opening the outer set, you step in and see her walking down the stairs to open the inner set.
>She sees you standing and waves at you. You wave back.
>Sunset unlocks the door and moves back to let you in.
>"Age before beauty." She jokes
"Pearls before the swine..."
>"Twilight, it's good to see you. You were so nervous this afternoon in Geography." She pulls you into a hug.
"I know I was. I could barely concentrate. What's the difference between sedimentary and igneous?"
>Sunset laughs as the two of you ascend the stairs to her apartment.
>"If you want to, you can fill out my homework. Now, what's so important that it couldn't wait until Monday?"
"I'll wait. Walls have ears..."
>Sunset rolls her eyes as she walks through the door that leads onto her floor. The fifth floor landing was modern-looking but nothing special. A window that looked out onto the street, simple birch wood flooring and white walls. Modern tube lighting littering the ceiling and by Sunset's apartment door was a plastic plant.
>"Welcome to my humble abode."

>The rooms on this top floor were on two levels but as you enter, you walking straight into her living room. More of that birch wood flooring with some simple colourful rugs. You take off your coat and put it onto her coat-rack by the door as Sunset walks to the mini-fridge by her dual-monitor computer setup.
>"Want something to drink?" Or do you want the trouser-press?" She sarcastically offers as she notices you straightening the pleats of your purple skirt.
"Sorry. Force of habit. Yeah, I'll have a cold drink."
>"Comet will do for you. I'll get a glass of orange for myself." Sunset decides on as she walks into the kitchen. You walk to her windows, giving you an excellent view of the city skyline. The downtown skyscrapers look beautiful in the night sky. Turning you head, you notice three tall buildings closer to the apartment. They look like condo buildings in this district.
>‘I bet one of those is Gatwick Tower.’
>"Admiring the view? I know I do in a morning."
"What are those three towers over there?"
>"Those apartment blocks are fairly new, built within the last five or so years. They're on Hackamore Ave. Heathrow, Gatwick and Stansted Towers. They're nice apartments but far out of my price range. I'm surprised I can afford this hovel. Here's your drink." She offers you the can. You open it with a "phiss" and take a healthy swig.
>"My, my, someone's thirsty. Now, what's up? And don't tell me you here to help with my homework." She sips her orange juice and strolls to her blue couch. You move over to her computer chair and wheel it over.
"You're going to help out Applejack, aren't you?"
>You query as you sit and Sunset looks thoughtful.
>"Yes, she needs a lift to Oakshott in the morning. She's got family up there and they need help clearing the fields."
"Isn't it going to snow again?"
>"Apparently, AJ says they're gonna risk it. Why are you asking?" Sunset asks, somewhat confused.

"I want to go to Oakshott as well..."
>You begin but Sunset cuts you off.
>"I never heard AJ asking for help..."
>Now, you butt in
"It isn't about Applejack. It's about Mr. Endeavour...
>"Oh, Twilight! It's an obsession, now." Sunset complains, rightly so. It is getting a bit weird, now.
"I'm helping my brother do some detecting. He's seeing someone called Gail. Now, this is strange because..."
>Sunset interrupts again. "Your brother doesn't need help. It's his job, isn't it? To detect? For he is a detective with the City Police?
"It's not uncommon for the police to ask for outside help"
>Shimmy shoots back, "This isn't a work of fiction, Twilight Sparkle. It's real life. With real-life consequences and I'm not getting caught doing something possibly illegal and my own otherworldly secret being revealed."
>You trip your brow in annoyance.
"I thought you were interested in him when you him on Wednesday. You even said you recognise his name from somewhere. I thought you did some research.
>She scoffs, "Yeah, I remembered where. He got some books in the library as I'm sure you know from the last time you broke the rules." She takes another sip and starts toying with the glass.
>"Look, Twi, I am still concerned about you. Are you sure you're still in control? Like I said, this subversive streak is making me worried."
"I am still in control, Sunset."
>You say firmly.
"Midnight is not coming back. I'm just trying to be more assertive."
>May as well tell her.
"It started back in the fall, Shiny told us that he had to leave Canterlot to help out with an investigation of a missing girl in Coltram. It was a big case, apparently, the county sheriffs needed help with the manhunt. In the meantime, I got bored with no significant magical anomalies for me to research so I wanted to stay up-to-date with world events so starting reading the newspapers. Soon, it became a homicide enquiry; her body was found in the Whispering Woods around the town."

>"A homicide? That's murder, isn't it?" Sunset naively asks.
>The gears start turning in your head. Sunset doesn't know, does she?
>Scanning her living room, you find no newspapers or magazines.
"Do you watch the news?"
>You wonder on as you point to her television; currently paused on some video game.
>"Not particularly. I watch the weather reports if that matters." She answers.
"Is your computer on? I want to show you something..."  
>"Yeah, it's just on sleep mode. What's this about?"  She quizzed on. You give her no answer as you wheel yourself over to her computer.
>She's right, it's on. Opening up a new web browser, you load up Poogle, the popular search engine and type in 'Gail Falcona' and 'Anonymous Endeavour'.
>Sunset walks over as the internet boots up. What it loads up, is rather quite startling.
"I knew about Gail Falcona before all of this. My mother is a fan of her opera singing and she has a wonderful voice. No wonder they call her the Songbird."
>"Yeah, I get that but what's with the online articles? Reviews of her performances?
>You click on one by the Manehattan Challenger, the tabloid press.
>Once it loads...
"You've got really slow internet speed..."
>"Thanks for reminding me, Twi."
>Once it loads, the headline banner reads "PHANTOM OF THE OPERA : TALENTED SINGER INVOLVED IN DOUBLE MURDER."
>" 'Double Murder?' By the Goddesses..."
"Gail Falcona killed two of Mr. Endeavour's students when he was teaching at Holm Coltram University. And for a while, he was a suspect for their murders."

///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\ ///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\
Chapter V: Bones and Silence

>Luckily, the snow didn't fall too heavily overnight. Just a light dusting.
>You like to drive, it relaxes you after a stressful week.
>Driving your little hatchback, through the Saturday morning traffic. Even the sun is trying to poke its way out the clouds. You think today will be a good day. Hopefully...
>"So the plan is this. You've picked me from Cedar Hill. Then you're going to The Broad to pick up Pinkie, then we going through the city centre to Sweet Apple Acres to pick up AJ. Then, we're all going to Oakshott. Yes?
>Twilight Sparkle, your passenger/navigator, says as she consults the road map, pulled from your glove box compartment.
"Yep, I've told both Pinkie and AJ to hold on, we'll be with them in the hour."
>"If you say so, I'm just worried about traffic through the city."
"Then how else are we picking up Pinkie Pie? We can't just leave her high and dry."
>You're Sunset Shimmer and you question your co-pilot. If Twilight doesn't get her way, she can get really moody.
"I know. The Broad will be busy but how else are we getting to the Sweet Shoppe? Granted, it's towards the bottom of it but still. Jeez!"
>You suddenly step on the brake; a delivery van pulls out without looking and speeds off to get some distance.
"Frick! The idiot almost wiped me out! You alright, Twi?"
>The purple scientist was clutching her safety belt and breathing somewhat heavily.
>"Well, my pride certainly needs mouth-to-mouth."
"Don't worry, Twi. We're almost there to pick up the pink one."
>Stopping at another red light, stuck on Windmill Rd.
>'Getting from Cedar Hill to here would have been quicker if the Eastern Circular wasn't blocked up.'
>A traffic accident diverted you from that road onto Ruby Road and then it went downhill from there.
>The light changes and you blast through the junction. Onto Emerald Street, one of the three streets that cuts through the main boulevard of The Broad.

>The Broad is the main north-south four lane carriageway that makes up most of Canterlot's commercial centre. Many of the city's prestigious businesses line the street, including the famous department store, Burridges, and other high-class clothing shops,  jewellers and furniture stores.
>Where Emerald St cuts through, The Broad has more food outlets, from bakeries and greengrocers to coffee shops and cafes. The Sweet Shoppe sits on the junction of The Broad and Emerald St.
>There's an alleyway that runs along the back of the stores. You pull into it and wave to both Pinkie Pie and Mrs. Cake, the co-owner.
>"Shimmy! Twily! It's lovely to see you two!"
>Pinkie runs up and hugs the front of your car. Mrs. Cake just lightly chuckles.
>Both you and Twilight step out and greet her.
"Mrs. Cake, it's good to see you again. Pinkie told me the bad news last night."
>"Thank you for your concern, Sunset. Picking up the batter mixers from Oakshott is bad enough but with the van breaking down as well. It's madness." Mrs. Cake sighed, "but it's good to see that Pinkie has such good friends."
>"Exactly! I knew I could count on my friends!" Pinkie exclaims, "although I'm wondering where AJ is? Got her hogtied in the trunk?"
>"We're going to pick her up next." Twilight answers
>Pinkie squeals something incomprehensible as she moves to the passenger-side.
>"Pinkie? Do you have the money?" Mrs. Cake asks
>"Yes I do! Stop worrying! I'm sure I've told you four times already!"
>"I more meant do you have the money for Sunset?" Mrs. Cake turns her attention to you. "Gas money. It's the least we can do. Oakshott is quite the drive.
"It's appreciated. It's a good job I've got my navigator with me."
>"Drive safe then." Mrs Cake says as she walks to the store's back door.
"So what's this I hear about money, Pinkie? Are you holding out on me?"
>You wander back to your car, grinning at Pinkie.

>"Of course I'm not! Would I lie to you?" Pinkie bubbled and batting her eyelids.
"Yes you would."
>"Ohh, Shim-Sham! You can trust your bestest friend. Mrs Cake gave me 40 bucks to give to you." She puts her hand into her hoodie pocket and produces 2 twenty-buck notes.
>"Girls, please. All this needless conservation! If we don't set off now, if won't meet AJ until at least quarter-to 10!" Twilight addresses as she goes through some paperwork on her lap.
"Where the heck did you get that?"
>You ask confused. She never had that on her....
>‘Oh, her rucksack. She's never without it.’
"Come on, Pinkie, get in my side. My navigator is getting all stroppy."
>Twilight look at you with her deadpan face as you open up and move the seat forwards.
>Pinkie bounces in and with a swift move of the seat, you clamber in, buckle up and ignite the car.
>The Blista hatchback purrs into life and pull up to the road.
"So which way, O Map Reader?"
>With another grimace, she says, "Go left and over The Broad. Then, you can find your way onto the Western Circular. That'll be the quickest way to Sweet Apple Acres."
>Flying through the junction, you continue following Emerald Street in uncharacteristic silence.
>Emerald St leads to the access road for the Western Circular, the new name that the council came up with to call the western half of the city's main ring road. 
>Dropping a gear, you floor it up the slip-road and into traffic. Unlike its Eastern counterpart, traffic is light and there isn't much grey slush on the road.
>"You may not be a she-demon, Shimmy, but you sure are a speed demon. How fast did you take that slip road?" Pinkie wondered with a sly grin
"Err... I wasn't looking at the speedo."
>You look to see Twilight squeezing the safety belt again.
"I won't do that again."
>"Give me warning at least, Sunset."

-- Meanwhile, on the other side of town --

>You're stood on the balcony, surveying the land below.
>Sipping from a cup of coffee, you brush off the snow from the seats and small table on it. The balcony is big enough of the table and two seats but nothing much else.
>At least, it didn't snow too much.
>You're Anonymous Endeavour and you're just concerned about the weather
>Travelling that far west with the weather last night. Might be difficult...
>But the Silver Shamrock was a good night out. The science teacher Menti won the game.
>You found out her first name is Ellie. Ellie Menti...
>'Her parents had a sense of humour...'
>Getting back from the Silver Shamrock wasn't too hard. You just shared a cab with that maths teacher with the shaggy ginger hair and wire-frame glasses who kept picking his nose.
>'Always from the right nostril, never the left. It had to be my side, he rummaged around in...'
>Shaking such memories from your head, you carry the coffee back inside and lock up. You walk to your mobile phone, sat charging on the kitchen counter.
>Picking it up, you scroll through the contact and tap on one.
>'It's ringing. At least, it isn't a fake number.'
>On the third ring, she picks it up.
>"Anon! Good morning, how are you?"
>'Little overeager, isn't she?'
"I'm fine, thank you, Celly. Maybe a bit under the weather, mind you."
>"The flu from the bottle, I presume?" she says disapprovingly.
"Never thought you were a Woman of Temperance."
>You say with mild disgust but she lightly laughs.
>"What? Can you really see me as one of those stuck-up cows? Anon, you really don't know me."
>You grin as memories of your past antics flash past your mind's eye.
"Of course, Celly. Sorry for insulting you. Now, are you almost ready? I am, just about to set off."
>"I'm ready, just putting on my shoes. I'll still waiting on you though, with me in the suburbs and you in the Old Town."
"Alright, alright. Jeez, I forgot how much you complained.
>You berate her but she takes it in her stride.
>"And I forgot your sarcasm. Who said that sarcasm is the poor man's wit?"
>'I can almost hear that smile down the phone.'
"Celly, seriously though, thanks for this. It does help me out. By the way, there isn't nearby florists to you? My local one is closed for the weekend."
>"I've grown some beautiful roses in my windowbox. I think they'll be suitable."
"Thank you again. And I'll see you soon."
>"I'm waiting, Anon."
>She hangs up and you disconnect its charging cable and slip the phone into your pocket.
>It's good that Celestia agreed to your unusual demand. It's the first time you've visited Gail since the move to Canterlot and, you thought, it was about time she met Celestia, your best friend from high school and...
>‘No, let's not go down there, matey. We all regret the paths we never took...’
>Sighing loudly and finishing off the coffee, you slip on your boots and walk to the coat-rack.
>Putting on your well-worn blue padded jacket and grabbing your keys, you walk out of the apartment and towards the lift.
>You're surprised she agreed to it, it is a strange arrangement. But as she explained to you yesterday in her office.
>"You can never really let go of the past. Doing this is a way of coping, I suppose. I've done it before."
 >The lift doors ding open on the ground floor, you step out and walk over to your car.
>The paintwork has been detailed to within an inch of its life and yet, it still doesn't look right...
>Climbing in and starting her up; the V8 quietly rumbles into life.

>Pulling out of the garage and onto the main road, you head the suburbs.
>The 'burbs themselves consists of two districts in the east of the city; Cedar Hill and Pike Creek. The suburban sprawl cannot touch the woodlands in the west; it's the Everfree National Park after all so the flatlands to the east got "redeveloped".
>If these districts have an emotion, it would be smugness. If they had a vice, it would be hypocrisy. Pampered lawns and shiny cars, just to impress your neighbours who don’t care.  
>When you moved to Canterlot, you viewed one the ranch-style houses in Pike Creek but it never felt it could be a home to you. It felt cold and clinical; at least your apartment felt like someone can call live a life in it. 
>Driving through the Old Town, you end up stuck in traffic along Pascoe Avenue and the high school. Despite your somewhat jaded view of the world, you know it's a good school to teach for with students willing to learn, not just coast through it.
>It is strange that the pedestal in front of the main building has no statue on it...
>'Might have been removed for restoration or something.'
>Cruising along the city streets, avoiding potholes and more traffic, you reach Pike Creek and you find Wichita Gardens.
>This particular cul-de-sac consists of a dozen or so ranch-style houses painted in oddly vibrant colours.
>Number 8. Celestia's house. The walls are painted a coffee-creamer tan with an ice-white roof.
>There's a shuffle from the front window curtains as you pull up onto her drive-way, stopping behind her white saloon.
>'Nice car. Can she afford it?'
>You step out of your car as Celestia walks out and locks up. She saunters to the car, holding her coat in one hand and a beautiful bouquet of miniature roses, wrapped in paper, in the other.

>"Are you going to be a gentleman and open the door for me?"
"And always thought you were the strong, independent type who needs no man to patronise you."
>You grin as you walk around the car to open one of the back doors.
>"Thank you." She says kindly as she places her stuff on the back seat, "are you sure it'll be secure? I don't to see them crushed."
"They'll be fine. Better in here than in the boot."
>You reply as you close one door and open the front one.
"M'lady. Try not to flash yourself as you climb in."
>She chuckles as she clambers in; sitting in the seat first, lifting her legs up and swinging them in while turning 90 degrees in the seat.
>'Like a true lady.'
>"I've still got it." She mentions as she grabs the car door and slams it shut.
>Mildly annoyed at the slamming, you open the driver door, climb in and close it.
>Starting the car up and reserving out, you start driving out of Pike Creek.
>"There's a jack-knifed milk tanker on the Eastern Circular. Take the western half instead; the intersection for it isn't that far.
"If you say so."
>Driving in silence, you take her advice and pull onto the ring road. You want to take a leisurely drive to the countryside.
>When the buildings give way for the forests, that's when Celestia asks you a question.
>"Anon, I know I'm here as your friend rather than your boss but I've got say this. I know you've been asking questions about one of the teachers, Miss Octavia Melody."
>'Oh boy, we gonna have this conservation instead...'
>"So I'm asking, what's the problem?"
"When I was at university, Tavi and I dated for a couple of years. We didn't exactly end things on a good note."

>That's an understatement. She left you when you got arrested for gate crashing the Eastvale Fall Formal. When you finally got bail, you found out she was screwing some other bastard in the meantime.
>It finally ended when you confronted her when your old car got vandalised with paint stripper.
>"I'm not really surprised she left you after you got arrested for what you did." She say innocently, "Luna is still bitter about it."
>'Still finds a way to turn it to herself or to Luna.'
"I'll say to you what I said to Tavi. I'm not looking for you to understand why, I know what I did was wrong. I'm asking for forgiveness. It was a frat boy prank that was taken to an extreme and I couldn't say no because of the peer pressure."
>You and your bros came charging in with water guns full of red paint and started shooting them at everything and everyone. Including the Formal Princess; a young, starry-eyed Luna. She was a perfect target, standing on the stage.
>By the end, the school gymnasium looked like a horror movie. You would have made your escape if Blue Blood didn't slip and crack his skull open. You or the paramedics weren't sure because of all the red paint.
>All of you were arrested that night. Yourself, Fancy Pants and Stinkin Rich were escorted to the local police station while Blue Blood had his rights read to him in a hospital bed.
"Being on bail wasn't the best place to repair any relationship. Especially considering Tavi was there as a chaperone for her little sister and witnessed everything first hand."
>"Thanks goodness I was still recovering from having my tonsils removed. If not, I would have been there to look after Luna. What happened has happened, there's no point in living in the past."
>Gripping the steering wheel harder, you ask an uncomfortable question.
"You're quick to forgive me, why though? I would have thought you'd be on Luna's side; being her sister and all."
>"I am on her side." She turns her head to glare at you but you can't meet her gaze for the obvious, "what you did was deplorable and wrong. You should have been properly punished but, like I said, we shouldn't live in the past. I doubt Octavia will be angry."
>You pull a worried look.
"I wouldn't be so sure, Celly. Like I said, we didn't end things well. I accused her for splashing paint stripper all over my car and thinking on, I don't think she did."
>"What made you accuse her anyway?" She gently inquires.
"She smelt of spirits but she says she was helping her father redecorate. I was just pissed off and accused her of lying and she said it was over, that she was seeing someone else."
>There were other words used but there is a lady present.
>"So, you're just concerned about what both Octavia and Luna will say if they meet you. Jeez, next week will be fun..."
>Oh... happy, happy. Joy, joy...
"She'll be back next week then?"
>"Monday. If you want, I can..."
>You cut her off.
"No, it's my problem, not yours. Don't butt in, Celly."
>"I just thought you might want a friend, that's all."
>The pair of you sit in silence, driving through the countryside.
>Oakshott is a short distance from Coltram. Just a quick ramble through the Whispering Woods or a 10-minute drive from either town.
>Driving through Coltram, you cruise down a bare tree-lined road to Oakshott. You know where you're heading to.
>It lies on the southern fringes of Oakshott itself. The town is nothing more a rural suburb in the big city metro area these days. A town where there's too many squires and not enough peasants.
>What it means is that there are too many city slickers wanting the quiet life and realising they can never get it.
>But it does exist. People do retire here for an easy life and it is here. It just takes time to find it. 
>You slow the car down as you pull into a small car park. The snow crunching under the tires as you pull into a vacant spot, next to an old black saloon.
>The snow must have fallen a little heavier around these parts.
>The weather adds to the quiet, sombre atmosphere of the place around you.
>Both yourself and Celestia step out of the car. You take the key out of the ignition and slip them into your pocket. You retrieve both Celly's overcoat and flowers off the back seat and pass the coat to her. You carry the bouquet.
>You give her a half-hearted smile before turning your eyes to the gate ahead of you and what lies beyond.
>A large, white field covered with headstones of differing shapes and sizes awaits you. The field itself is surrounded by grand, majestic oaks of the nearby woodlands.
>On the far end of the field, you see an old couple, staring down at one stone in particular. And others walking through the rows.
"Are you ready, Celestia?"
>You ask as she looks to you and hooking her arm through yours.
>"I am. Come on, let's not keep her waiting."
>Straightening your jacket, you glance at the iron gate; gently creaking in the breeze and you spot the brass plague on the snow-covered wall.
>Tall Oaks Cemetery.
>Walking through the gate and taking the outer path, circling the field.  You ask Celly a question, somewhat nervously.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I'm just wondering if you think it's too personal or strange."
>"Like I said yesterday, Luna and myself have done this before with our parents. It's a way of coping, I suppose. The thought of 'talking' to them is bizarre but I don't think it is."
>She gives your arm another reassuring squeeze.
"Thanks. She isn't far now. She's by that oak tree."
>You point to one of the overhanging trees, It's gives some of the stones shade from the winter sun, peeking through the clouds.
>You always wanted to make sure she was in the shade.
>You reach her gravestone. Made from beautiful black marble and it bears the inscription, written in gold:
> "In loving memory of Allegretto G. Falcona. Beloved Daughter and Wife. Our little Songbird."
>On top of the headstone is a detailed stone carving of a nightingale.
>You clear some of the snow and the wilted flowers from her grave and place the fresh ones down. You say to Celly.
"She calls herself 'Gail' to appear more homely and down-to-earth as compared to the more fancy 'Allegretto'. I ask why she felt the need to and she says 'To some, I am the wind in their sails but to others, I simply take their breath away.' I asked the family to put the 'G' in because I knew it's what she wanted."
>You squat in front of the stone.
"Alright there, old girl? It's me, Nonny, your old boy. Remember when I told you about the job interview in Canterlot? I was successful. That's why I've been gone for so long."
>You pause for a response.
"Yeah, they are lovely. Call it a peace offering, I suppose. They were grown by my friend here. You remember I talked about Celestia?"
>You hear Celestia's footsteps crunch under the snow as she moves closer.
>"Err... Hello, Gail. I'm Celestia. It's a pleasure to meet you."
>The wind whistles through the branches.

"You're right, my love. Exactly as I described her."
>You don't notice but she blushes.
"I got some e-mails from Moderato. She says she's having the time of her life touring Europe. Sold out in Rome, she says."
>You pause again for her reply.
"I know, you said she was talented. Your sister is excellent."
>Your eyes start to water. You breath out heavily.
"I miss you. The big city seems an awful lot bigger without you. Even though I've meet new people and re-established an old friendship, I've lost a lot of good friends since ... what happened. They just won't ... talk to me. They still think ... I did it."
>You daren't mention what actually happened to her. Your chest and stomach feels heavier.
>All these emotions, man. Celestia moves closer to rest her hand on your shoulder.
"I just feel so alone sometimes, without you at my side. With every passing day, it gets harder."
>You rest your hand on her stone. A tear falls.
"I just wish I really knew..."
>A couple more fall.
"...why. Mio amor... perché."
>With one hand on the headstone, you gently kiss two fingers on the other and press them onto the black marble.
"Un bacio ancora..."
>You mumble as more tears fall. 
>Celestia manages to lift you up and gives you a soft hug.
>"I'm here for you. I'm always here for you..." She quietly coos, patting the back of your head
>You weep into her shoulder, embracing her and not letting go.
>You didn't look up if you did, you'd have seen Celestia softly crying.
>Emotions long since bottled up were finally being released. It was a very open moment between the two of you.
>You were blubbering about what had happened. She was crying for what could have been...
>Again, emotions were released.
>Unbeknownst to the pair of you, there were onlookers to your outburst. Not just mourners or the recently bereaved but three young, curious girls. They didn't expect to find this.
>Sometimes, there are no real answers. Only bones and silence.
Chapter VI: Ruling Passion
>No, no, no! This was a bad idea. A bad idea!
>You're Sunset Shimmer and you don't know what you feel.
>Angry? Yeah, Twilight dragged you into this mess.
>Sad? Yeah, you just witnessed two grown adults break down into tears.
>Worried? Yeah, you got chaos on legs next to you and no-one knows what'll happen next. 
>Curious? Yeah...
>You stay rooted to the spot with an equally shocked Pinkie Pie and a sad looking Twilight Sparkle, hidden by the shade of the nearby trees.
>Before you even think of anything else, you grab a hold of Pinkie's arm before she leaps over the wall and hugs everything better...
>Startled by your grip, she looks down to her arm then looks to you and shakes her head. She knows...
>She knows that confetti and hugs aren't gonna fix this one.
>You loosen your grip and look to Twilight, as she looks at an interesting twig on the ground by her feet.
"Come on, we better leave."
>You turn and shake some of the fallen snow off your hood. Pinkie turns with you but Twilight doesn't move.
"Twilight."
>You whisper angrily.
"Come on before they realise they're being watched."
>Twilight meekly nods and starts walking with you.
>The three of you walk in silence until you reach the parking lot. That's where you finally question what the heck just happened.
"Seriously? What the heck?"
>"I didn't think he'd come to a cemetery of all places..."
"Well, what did you think?"
>You snap at Twilight
"That there was a maximum-security prison up here? You are unbelievable sometimes. Did you any of your frickin' research?"
>"No, this is more of a ... gut feeling." Twilight stutters.
"So, your gut feeling has let us intrude on someone's grief?"
>You rant, with the fire burning within your mind but Twilight bursts out.
>"I don't know what I would find! House arrest, changed identity. Even witness protection!"
>"Shimmy! Twily, please! Stop fighting!" Pinkie cries out with a sniffle.

>"Shimmy's right though. This was a mistake and I can't believe you decided to do something like this." She says in an uncharacteristically glum manner, "Curiosity really did kill this particular cat..."
>"Pinkie, don't talk like that please. I thought that you of all people would like to know. I did for you. For..."
>"No, Twilight. Don't bring Cherry into this." Pinkie grimaces. "We Pies have already mourned her loss. I don't want her memories brought up like this."
"Hang on, I have just turned two pages at once? How do you know Cherry?"
>Pinkie looked to you; her hair looks a little flat.
>"You're quite the silly billy, Shim-Sham. Cherry Bakewell used to live next door to us Pies and we were still good friends when she graduated high school."
>This revelation does raise your eyebrows. It's one heck of a coincidence.
"Never would have guessed, Pinkie. If I've had known..."
>Pinkie cuts you off. Her hair returns to its soft, poufy self
>"There's no changing our little egghead's mind sometimes, Shimmy. I wish I was informed beforehand though."
>Twilight swallows her pride and apologises.
>"I'm sorry for the smoke and mirrors, Pinkie, I really should have told you. And I'm sorry, Sunset, for abusing your trust like this. I really shouldn't be spying on Mr. Endeavour, no matter what my brother says."
>You pull your favourite scientist into a hug.
"It's okay, Twi. Come on, stop looking miserable at least."
>Pinkie bounds over and joins in.
>"Let's turn these frowns upside down! Come on, please. If anything, I should be the sad one!"
>By the Goddesses, Pinkie's personality can change on a dime.
>Pinkie breaks the hug up and starts moving to your car and dusts the snow off her shoulders
>"We need to get moving or Ol' Tinker will be mad at me for being late."
"You ready, Twi?"

>You ask as you unlock your car and move the seat again for Pinkie.
>"I'm ready. I'm gonna to talk to Shiny about the situation. I really shouldn't be doing this."
"Stop your talking and get in, it's cold out."
>You say as you climb in and start the car up.
>Twilight gets in and buckles up. You drive out of the lot.
"You're right, though, talk to your brother about this. Something isn't right."
>"I'm putting my foot down with it. Just one last thing." Twilight instructs as you drive back onto the main road to Oakshott.
>"Can we not tell the others about this. I know both AJ and Rainbow will go apocalyptic about this."
>"With Flutters and Rars just judging silently." Pinkie agrees, "I will, pinkie promise."
"I pinkie promise as well. Now, where exactly are we going? You didn't say."
>Pinkie Pie just grins.

-- Meanwhile --
"I'm sorry. I really am."
> It's alright, Anon. Really."
"It's just ... Oh God... why..."
>You blurt out between sobs.
>"Shush now."
>You're Anonymous Endeavour and you're miserable. Still weeping into Celestia's shoulder.
>Wrapped in her arms. It's a comforting place.
>Warm and peaceful.
>You don't know how long you're there for. It could be minutes or hours...
>The softness of her overcoat.
>The warmth she radiates.
>The smell she...
>Smells of...
>Yeah, alright. You not the best place to think of clever metaphors and similes, okay?
>The point is, you don't want to let go.
>Your tears and dry heaving slow to just deep breaths. 
>You get that feeling that ... Celestia doesn't want let go either.
>You feel her hands press into your back. Holding you closer...
>You've dreamt once... or twice... maybe even a few times...
>Of her... holding you... caressing you...
>You manage to pull out of her grip, with somewhat resistance.
>You don't want those thoughts going any further...
>You put your face into your hands and rub it.
"Thank you, Celly. I needed that."
>Pulling them away, you see she has span around, she's facing away from you.
>"It's... alright, Anon. Seriously, it's isn't the first time I've had someone break down me."
>She turns to face you as she stuffs a handkerchief into her coat pocket.
>Her make-up looks slightly smudged. You dance around a rather sensitive subject.
"Ar... are you okay, though? You look a little... misty-eyed..."
>She inhales and exhales sharply, "sorry, it's been a while since someone's held me like that as well."
>The pair of you stand in silence.
>You turn back to the headstone.
"I'm sorry, old girl but it's best I'm leaving now. I think I've embarrassed you enough as it is. I'll see you next time."
>You start to walk off before you start welling up again. You don't want to break down again in front of Gail. But Celestia stays behind.

>You just stare at the tombstone.
>You're Celestia and you don't know what you feel.
>Sad? Of course, about poor Anon and his bottled-up emotions.
>Concern? Naturally. What will he do next?
>But there's emotions that have been hibernating that are now rising.
>Dare you say it? Even to yourself?
>...
>Jealousy? Yeah...
>You wish someone would talk to you like that, with such love and passion. Even after you've died.
>Hell, even Kingsley never really talked to you like that...
>Again, you inhale and exhale sharply and look up to the late morning sky. The clouds are getting heavy.
"Don't worry, Gail. I'll make sure he's alright. It's what ... 
>You pause. Is he your friend still? Is he more?
"It's what friends do. I hope I see you again soon."
>You turn your head and see Anon walking ahead. Turning your collar up at the sudden breeze, you walk at a brisk pace to catch up.
"Anon! Wait up, please!"
>He stops, turns to see you and gives you a light smile.
>The pair of you start walking again and you hook your arm through his.
>He appears surprised but he doesn't unhook his.
"I know I sound like a broken record but are you sure you will be okay tonight? Do you want some company?"
>"I've got some company staying tonight but if you want to, I know she'll fine with it."
>She?
"Who is she?"
>"Tad Caster. You know, Taddy. I'm sure I've mentioned..."
>He loudly sighs and shakes his head.
>"Taddy is a friend of mine from Holm Coltram. Possibly one of the few friends I have left. She's visiting me to help me out with some paperwork."
>She sounds pleasant enough. And if she's willing to help out Anon...
"I think it'll be nice to meet her but I don't want to ruin your evening together."
>"I know she'll be alright with the situation. Don't worry."
>He puts on a brave face as you two walk out the cemetery and into the parking lot.

>"Look, Celly." Anon says, unhooking his arm from yours and turning to face you, "what happened in the cemetery just now. What I said is what I feel sometimes, I do feel alone in Canterlot. Away from my old life, my old job, my old friends..."
>He stops to loudly sniffle. He pulls out his own handkerchief, dabs his eyes and blows his nose.
>"Even my wife. I know she has died and she's in the ground. I just want to know why. Why has my life has been turned upside down? Why did she have to die? Why did she ... murder my two students?"
>It's a dark subject and it's something you don't want to approach, even on a good day.
"I don't know."
>You honestly say.
"I really don't. It's the reason why I don't comment on the situation because I don't have all the facts. I know some of the other teachers have their own suspicions about it but I don't listen to them."
>You lightly grab his shoulders to make sure he doesn't leave but you don't think he will.
"But I know you. I know you're innocent in all of this and that you want to find out because I was the same once upon a time ago. I wanted to find out what really made my husband tick after he got arrested. But let's not talk about me, we'll save that for another day."
>He nods and you take your arms off him. He moves to his car and unlocks it. He slips his coat off and throws it onto the back seat.
>You do the same with yours and get into the car.
>He climbs in and starts it up.
>"Don't panic, Miss Celestia. I'm okay to drive; it helps clear my mind. If you're still willing to help me out, then help me. I do need help."
>He sighs as he starts reversing and then confided in you.
>"I do need help with your sister, at least. Help me mend that bridge. But I'll deal with Octavia by myself."
"Of course, Anon."
>You smile and he does too.
>"Thank you."
>The journey back into Canterlot was quiet. You made sure of that. You wanted Anonymous's attention on the road, not on yourself.
>The forest at time of year is beautiful. You were once considering leaving the city to live out here. Either some farmhouse or living in one of the nearby towns like Coltram or Oakshott.
>But you couldn't. You like Canterlot too much. The big city life. And there was Luna to think about, you'd doubt that she'd ever move out of Canterlot.
>She once commented she wanted to be far away from her old life in Oxbridge when Mom and Dad died.
>You shake your head and look out the side window. The forests are giving way for the city.
>Your thoughts are still on poor Anonymous.
>Did he really meant it? Everyone he knows just dropping him like a hot stone? That's just cruel.
>You look at him and see him just staring intensively on the road ahead while gripping the steering wheel a little too hard.
>Nervous? Worried?
>No, you'd say angry. The way his eyebrows keep slightly twitching and his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.
>Why is he angry? But you know why.
>Anonymous is a man who keeps his deep emotions to himself. He once joked that everyone knows him. But not quite.
>He's proud, controlled and literate and some would say that's his flaw.
>He thinks before he speaks.
>And seeing poor Anon open up like that. For you, for anyone to see his true tragic self must hurt him deeply.
>Not surprising really, you could argue the same for yourself but you believe you're in tune with your emotions and that helps with dealing with the more sensitive students. But you're not ashamed of being yourself.
>However, you sense that Anon is ashamed of himself. For letting his emotions get the better of him. For speaking before he thinks.

>You shake such psychoanalytical nonsense from your head as Anonymous reaches his home.
>'This must be the place.'
>The place was a rather tastefully designed high-rise condo, a white and red cladded building with another two similarly designed buildings around it.
>He turns off the road and into the underground parking lot. He stops at the barrier and takes a plastic card from the car's cigarette ashtray and swipes it across the barrier's scanner. It lifts up and he drives in. 
>He stops by his own parking spot and reverses in. He stops the engine and sighs loudly.
>"Are you alright? Not exhausted, are you? It has been a long journey." He asks.
>You glance at the car's dashboard clock; 2:16pm
>'Jeez, it's been that long?'
"I never thought I'd be away for that long, Anon. Are we still waiting on Taddy?"
>He smirks, his first genuine smile of the afternoon.
>"She'll be around, I can feel it. I'll give her a ring saying I'm back anyway. I'll stay down here if you want to go upstairs. Sixth floor, apartment 609."
>He digs his hands into his trouser pockets and pulls out his cell phone in one and his keys in the other.
"Thanks."
>You kindly say as you grab them and step out of the car and walk to the elevator. As the doors shudder open, you turn your head and see Anon steeping out of his car, locking it up and looking at his phone. He squints at his phone and rubs his eyes.
>As you step in, you push the number six button and turn around, to face him and you see him pull out a pair of thick-framed reading glasses from an inner pocket.
>'He wears glasses? Never...'
>The doors close and the elevator sends you on your way.
>'Hang on. Does he live on the sixth or seventh floor?'
>You lightly chuckle to yourself. The Brits do speak funny; what we call the 'ground floor', they call the 'first floor'...

>You must be tired. You rub your eyes in exhaustion.
>You're Anonymous Endeavour and you take out the glasses you hate using.
>If you can get away with it, you don't use them but sometimes you just need to.
>Like when it's 2 in the morning and you're still marking papers or when you've had a mild mental breakdown...
>You can read your phone, even on its tiniest font but right now, the screen is just a blur.
>Slipping them on, you tap contacts and scroll to Taddy.
>You lift the phone to your ear and hear it ringing.
> On the fifth ring, she answers.
>"Ah, Anonymous! I have been expecting you. You should have said you lived close to a Cluckin' Bell."
"And have you eat them into bankruptcy? And I thought you were having dinner at mine, by the way."
>You rage but she just sasses back.
>"You know me, I can eat anything and everything. Who pissed into your cornflakes this morning? You're not usually this mad at me for spoiling my appetite."
>You rub your aching forehead and confide in her.
>You talk. Taddy listens. There was no doubt about the intensity of her listening, but no other emotion came through her voice as she replied vaguely.
 >"I understand, Nonny, these wounds take their time to heal. I'll be over as soon as, just finishing up here."
>She takes a loud slurp of a drink. So loud in fact, you lift your phone off your ear.
"Thanks for the tinnitus by the way. Also, I err... invited Celly to stay as well. For dinner of course."
>"The more, the better. Just make enough to feed a battalion, I just love your tikka masala."
"You do realise I'm making a chicken one, right?"
>You question but she just laughs it off.
>"Stop your needless panicking, Nonny. "
>You smile.
"I'll see you in a bit. Remember, Gatwick Tower, number 609"
>"Yes, whatever!"

>She hangs up and slip the phone back your trouser pocket.
>Putting away the glasses, you hurry to the lift and quickly jab at the button.
>Internally debating whether the stairs are quicker, the doors squeak open and you practically jump in and press the number six.
>'You paranoid or something, matey? Calm it down.'
>The lift shudders into life and takes you to the sixth floor. Opening up to a simply decorated corridor, you casually stroll to your front door and try the door handle. It opens.
>'Who'd have thought it?...'
> You step in and slip your jacket off and place it on the coat rack.
>In the background, you can overhear a conversation Celestia is making.
>"That's a pretty damn cynical point of view, you know. And don't say you think it's realistic either."
>On her phone, maybe?
>You boot the door closed and it slams.
"Anybody home?"
>She speaks a little quieter.
>"Yes, that's him. I'll call back later, Cadance, okay?"
>She walks out of the kitchen as she puts away her phone.
>"Anon." She says with a pleasing tone, "I like what you've done to the place. Seems very... you. Very eclectic."
>She scans the decor of your apartment. Even the the poor afternoon light coming through the tall windows, it was easily accentuated by the light shades the walls and flooring were coloured. The walls were painted a simple white and the floors was part pine boards, part white carpet.
>A large fireplace partially hid access to the other rooms while a bookcase and ornament selves partially hid the kitchen.
>The main room has an open-plan design so there are no separating walls. By the bookcase is a simple table and four chairs. Next to that is a tacky green reclining armchair pointing to the television and the hi-fi stereo with a nest of tables pressed next to the chair. A low coffee table to the right of the armchair and a large brown leather sofa, in front of the fireplace.

>Everything in the apartment is about status and relates to your own sense of high cultured tastes. The chair in your study is an Eames, the sofa is a Winchester. Your ornaments aren't just souvenirs from your holidays but they are precious to you.
"Thanks. I like to think it reflects me well enough."
>You move over to your armchair and sit in it. You pull the lever and the backs tilts back and the leg-rest pops up. You sigh loudly.
"Home sweet home. Oh look, I'm being a terrible host. Do you want anything to drink?"
>You push the leg-rest back in and walk into the kitchen.
"Something soft or strong?"
>"It'll depend on how I'm getting home tonight." She quires.
"That'll depend on if I want something soft or strong. When I cook on a weekend, I do tend to have a drink or two." 
>You admit like you're confessing your sins.
>"Any wine?" She inquires but you challenge her.
"Wine? Since when did you drink wine? It was always beer or spirits when we were young."
>"But I grew up though. Since you're a Brit and you like your mixed drinks, I'll have a gin and tonic."
"You know me so well."
>You take the gin off the top of the refrigerator and the tonic water from inside of it. You pour the drink into a glass, put in two ice cubes and garnish it with a slice of lime.
>"How very cosmopolitan. So what are you cooking then?" Celly asks.
"My speciality. Chicken tikka masala."
>You proudly say as you prepare the pots, pans and ingredients.
>As you get all the necessary spices from a nearby rack, the door buzzer rings around the apartment. You rush over to the intercom phone.
>Picking it up, you immediately talk.
"No, I'm not interested in your sales pitch."

>"Ha ha. You're a real comedian. Now let me in, it's fucking freezing out here." Taddy retaliates.
>Pushing the button to let her, you walk back to the kitchen while Celly eyes up Froggy, a frog-faced bust sat by your fireplace.
>"What's this thing?" She asks in a baffled way.
"That's Froggy. An original Caster.  It was Taddy's first when she joined the faculty at Holm Coltram as the art sculpture lecturer. I bought it for $30, now it's worth 30,000 bucks. She's very good."
>Both Celly and Froggy stare goggle-eyed at each other.
>"Who actually is Taddy Caster?" She puzzles on
"Like I said, Tad Caster is the Head of the Fine Art Department at Holm Coltram College. HCC has a reputation to keep; producing everything from famous artists and academics to infamous lawyers and lawmakers. Caster is well-known enough within her own right; she has sculptures in most modern art galleries throughout the country."
>Despite her youth and frumpy appearance, she is an accomplished artist and sculptor. And being head of the art department of a prestigious university can only help one's reputation.
>Places like the Manehatten Gallery of Modern Art to the Stirrup School of Fine Arts in London, only the distinguished can boast a Caster sculpture. She's either very good or has friends in high places.
>As you finish, someone knocks on your front door. You walk over and open it to reveal the short woman wearing a flowing black overcoat and an orange bobble hat.
>"Nonny!"
"Taddy!"
>You both hug.
>She pulls away and looks over to Celestia. A slight blush growing on her cheeks.
>"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you, Miss. But a hug is as good as a handshake."
>She outstretches her arms and you say.
"I'd hug her if I were you, Celly. You'll regret it."
>Celestia cautiously walks into Taddy's embrace and she somehow squashes Celly into her.
>"Good Lords Above!" Celly breathlessly squeaks out.
>Disentangling herself from Taddy, she walks away and starts quietly coughing.

"That's Taddy, Celly and that's Celestia, Taddy. I'll be in the kitchen if you want me." You mention while giggling.
>"I'm sorry, Nonny but I must ruin your evening right now. Our esteemed university chancellor needs to meet you. She told me it's important but she couldn't get a hold of you."
>She slips out of her coat and put the hat into its pocket. She wearing a simple blue polo-neck sweater and blue jeans.
"That's because I didn't leave a forwarding address or telephone number for the Snowmaiden. What the fuck does Cinch want with me?"
>You shout from the kitchen as you get the prepared chicken from the fridge. And while Taddy opens her mouth, Celestia butts in.
"Cinch?"
>"Yeah, Abacus Cinch. Better known as the Snowmaiden." Taddy addresses Celly.
>Celestia looks confused, "I thought she wasn't allowed to be in charge of educational establishments in  the county.
"You forget, Celly. Coltram is in a different county so it has a different education authority. How the hell do you know her?"
>You again shout from the kitchen. You start with the sauce by frying the onions with the tomato puree and some of the leftover spice mixture.
 >"It's a long story. And a really bizarre one at that."
>"We've got all night. And I don't think anyone is going anywhere soon."
>Taddy points to the balcony as she walks into the kitchen.
>The heavens have finally opened. It's snowing. And hard.
>"Oh shit." Celly mutters, "how am I getting home now?"
"Spend the night here."
>You yell over the bubbling mixture and clanking bottles. Taddy passes you a single malt drink and gets one herself.
"Oh thanks. There's a futon in my room. I'll sleep on that if you don't mind my bed."
>Celestia walks in, looking conflicted. You broil the marinated chicken and leave the sauce to simmer.
"Celly, what's wrong? If you still worried about your home..."
>Celestia holds her hand up and swigs the G&T in one glup.
>"Another, please."
>You make her another one, with a double measure of gin.

>"Thanks. It's not about home. It's about how I know Abacus Cinch. She was principal of Crystal Prep Academy and how she and I came into conflict was over the Friendship Games, a sporting event the city's school board holds every four years."
>"It's a truly unbelievable story and I don't think I should tell it with the present company.
>Taddy's eyebrow tip slightly but you jump in.
"Celly, if you can trust me, you can trust Tad. What happened?"
>She takes another mouthful of the drink and rests the glass on the counter.
>"I’m going to tell you  both a story. Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?”
>She begins with how she and Cinch first met, just before the games started and how she was extremely rude to her, the staff and the pupils.
>How she forced one of Crystal Prep's best students to abuse ... to abuse magic to win.
>Glossing over that magic exists and the identity of the student, she continues that Cinch attempted to blackmail her into defeat by accusing her of using this apparent "magic."
>Things got out of hand, to put it lightly.
>Some students turned into demons and threatened to destroy reality.
>But magic defeated magic.
>"We kept Cinch from the school board by simply saying no-one would believe her story and the last thing I ever heard about her is that she resigned her post of principal."
>She takes a sip from her drink and gently swills the liquid around. She asks with a straight face.
 >"What do you think? Am I mad?
"Christ. I need another drink..."
>You fill the glass half-full and do the same with Taddy's
>Taddy looks at the glass like someone has just pissed into it.
>You take a hard slip of the fiery alcohol.
> What Celestia is saying is the maddest thing possible with magic, portals and multiple dimensions. But why would she lie? 
>"Neither of you don't believe me, do you?"

>The pair of you are still quiet, still trying to process what she said.
>There's a new smell now. The chicken is getting crispy.
"Bollocks, the chicken!"
>The meal is saved but you don't think Celestia's sanity has been. You chop the chicken up and pop it into the sauce while Taddy stirs the rice she prepared during Celly's tall-tale.
> Taddy finally says, but not thoroughly convinced, "the Snowmaiden is a complete bitch who will do anything to win. So I can believe it. Cheating is still cheating in my book."
>You also find your voice.
"Honestly, I don't know what to believe. But then again, if someone told me my wife will kill two of my students last year, I wouldn't believe them either. I'm not saying I believe it but I'm not saying I don't believe it either, Celly."
>She gives you two a half-smile. "That's all I ask. It's mad and stupid, I know but try and keep an open mind."
>You point a wooden spoon you're holding to Celly and grunt out.
"Open mind, my arse. I mean demonstrations of this 'magic' and I don't mean guess the card I'm thinking of."
>Celly chuckles. "Oh, you'll believe it alright."
>You roll your eyes and ask Taddy sarcastically.
"Taddy, can you conjure up some plates from that cupboard over there. The sauce is done."
>"Of course, O Great and Powerful Anonymous Endeavour!"
>You and Celestia laughs out loud as she walks to the table.
>"What's so funny?" She asks.
"There's a student called Trixie Lulamoon calls herself 'The Great and Powerful'. She has the hat, the cape and all the paraphernalia. Is she the wizard of Canterlot, Celly?"
>You cajole Celly but she answers
>"No, a stage magician. Like you said, guess the card I'm thinking of."
"I've gathered that. Now come on, let's stop this magical shit and eat our dinner in peace. I've made enough to feed an army! Who wants tikka masala?"

///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\ ///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\
Next part: 85h909KR