-- Part Zero - The Rooster Prince --
-4 days ago-

>As tinny music plays through the elevator's speaker, you shudder and shake, making your headache worse.
>'Why am I called back to HQ?'
>As the cart stop and the doors ding open, you step out and see your old boss, who offers you a big thumbs-up.
>You are Special Agent Anonymous Lorenz and with a winning smile, you give him the thumbs-up back.
"Ace! It's been too long! How are things!"
>"No thank you, I've already eaten. Come on, walk me to my office."
>Oh yeah, your old boss is also a bit deaf. Saying Ace Thruster is getting on a bit is an understatement.
>His face is pot-marked with slight wrinkles and his sandy-blonde hair shows signs of graying.
>But his upbeat attitude is always turned up to the max. Just like his old-fashioned hearing aid attached to his suit jacket.
>"Did you hear about Sharp Shooter? Or don't they tell you shit at the Farm?"
>Ace doesn't shout, he just talks loudly.
"No, I heard about him. Is he okay?"
>"He's still at the hospital. Perforated stomach ulcer, they say. You should have seen the office, Anon! It was like Deer Meadows in there! Blood everywhere!"
>You shudder at the thought at that old case.
"Burr..."
>"It's a pity about your old partner, he goes into surgery tomorrow afternoon but the docs say he'll live!"
"Shooter's an old goat, of course he'll pull though. I don't think death will come to him so easily..."
>"Of course his wife is there with him, Anon. The hospital has very easy visiting hours."
>Sometimes, his misinterpretations does produce comedy gold.
"Anyway, why am I called up to Fillidelphia, Ace? Are my superiors not happy with my training of the newbies?"
>"I bet you're wondering why you called up to the big city, rather than being out in the sticks at the Farm? I'll tell you in the office. Come on."
>He hurriedly walks into his office, bearing his new promotion on the door; "Regional Bureau Chief, North East Division, Ace Thruster"

>You walk in and charmingly smile to his buxom secretary.
>Sauntering into his proper office, you see another man in black sat by his desk, reading some case files.
>"Right, Anon, give the glad hand to your new partner, Agent Coffee Klatch. He cracked the Dusty Trails case, you know."
>You give him a firm handshake.
"Congratulations. I heard about that."
>He simply nods with a smile creasing his slightly tanned face.
>"Okay, to business then. Gentlemen, take your seats."
>You sit as Coffee puts the file onto the desk and Ace grabs it.
>"This is the reason why I called you up here." Ace booms,  "there are some suspicious activity in the town of Canterlot and the local police are baffled."
>You take the file and quickly scan-read it.
"So, a missing teacher, a dead student and a beaten-up student. Sounds more like a police problem, not one for the Bureau. Why are we called in?"
>"I've spoken to them and it seems that the kid who got beaten up crossed state lines." Agent Klatch speaks up in a smooth Southern accent, "And that dead kid was found within a mile of the border. Who knows, maybe that teacher also crossed the boundary."
>"What links them all together is that they all attend that fancy magic school, Luna Nova." Ace puts in, "and the local PD hate touching that place. I'm not surprised, being ran by that freak show..."
>Ace realises he just put his foot into it.
>"Sorry, Anon, I didn't think..."
"None taken."
>"But the case has taken a ghoulish turn yesterday, though." Coffee breezes in to save the situation, "the two local detectives in charge of the case were killed in a traffic accident with a delivery truck."
>"Don't say 'accident', Klatch. Official vocab guidelines state we should say 'collision' because 'accident' implies no-one's to blame." Ace butts in as Coffee rolls his eyes.
"About this collision then, guys? Anything suspicious?"
>You question.

>Ace takes his glasses off to clean them with his tie.
>Coffee takes the initiative, "It's believed the driver fled the scene, probably a foreign national with no papers. It's a coincidence but Canterlot PD  are definitely spooked by it."
"Are they checking out the hospitals and free clinics in the town?
>"I've been told that both hospitals and the clinics are on alert."
>Coffee looks a little uncomfortable and directs an awkward question to you.
>"I know it's garbage but is it possible... that the truck wasn't actually driven at all?"
"What do you mean? Remote controlled? Well, you know much drone technology has developed over the years..."
>You prattle on but Ace shuts you up with a swift move of his hand.
>"Anon, I think he more means was it controlled by magic?"
>You sigh.
"It's possible, you use a technomantic incantation to possess the vehicle but if I'm right, you have to be sat in the vehicle to do it and have some serious training, beyond that of mere schoolchildren. Any evidence of a driver?"
>"Fingerprints on the wheel and central console but nothing else." Coffee answers.
"So this Luna Nova angle, anything concrete or is it just bullshit?"
>Coffee coughs as Ace begins one of his famous theories.
>"Wanna know what I think? Well, this Harshwhinny character is gotta be responsible. In the majority of all homicide cases, the murdered knows their murderer. The teacher kills the kid, beats up the other one for witnessing it, and flees to Canada where she belongs."
>Both you and Coffee smile and chuckle.
"What was the murder weapon? Maple syrup?
>Coffee grins broadly as he flicks through the file.
>"Witness say that they heard funny noises in the woods around the school."
>"What kind of noises?" Ace enquires with his face going red.
>"They kept hearing repeated apologies." He laughs out.

>As the laughter peters out, you talk again.
"Okay, this Canada theory notwithstanding, anything else to tie them to the show?
>"Like I said." Klatch starts as he flicks through the casefile again, "her body was found in the woods that surround the school. The woods themselves are split in two, separated by a meadow. The school owns the lower part while the upper part is just common land."
"So, what's the point in all that?"
>You question as Coffee just deadpans.
>"The dead girl was found in the lower woods, hence the school angle, and it's believed that the other girl wandered through the meadow and the upper woods to the rail tracks and over the Two States Bridges where she was found."
"Who are the girls?"
>"The dead girl is called..." Coffee looks down to the file, "Lemon Zest. The other girl is called Sugarcoat, currently in a coma at Canterlot Mercy Hospital."
"Now, what about this missing teacher? This... Harshwhinny character? Is there anything solid to your theory, Ace?"
>You shout across the desk.
>"I wouldn't know anything about that, Anon, but tell you what I do know. This Winifred Harshwhinny wasn't a saint. Her husband sings her praises but the man's a spineless wimp, the type who would check for paper before he uses the toilet. And I don't think the teachers were that much honest, either."
>"Actually, sir." Coffee Klatch butts in, "don't you thinks a good to discuss what we talked about last night?"
>"Oh yes, good idea..."
>They both grin like the Cheshire Cat.
"Why do I get that feeling I don't like what you're gonna say..."
>"Ace tells me you're one of the best undercover agents he's had..." Coffee compliments you as Ace, once again, butts in.
>"Ever since you helped the Bureau bust open the mafias out in Las Pegasus, you've been invaluable to us. That's why I need you for this assignment. I need you to go undercover at the Luna Nova Witchcraft Academy."

>"Maybe they will open up more to one of their own." Coffee adds.
"What the hell do I know about teaching, guys?"
>You protest but neither of them are having it.
>"You've been teaching at the Bureau's Academy for the last 9 months and I know you taught magic so don't say otherwise, Anon."
"Yes, I taught magic studies, sir. For one semester.  At the West Las Pegasus Community College, not exactly Ivy League, is it?"
>"Details, Anonymous! Don't you worry about that, we'll just make up references and positions for you to make you seem more experienced then you are!"
>You sigh as Ace beams his winning smile.
"I'll get in touch with Shiny Chariot at the very least. My old mentor can help out and it'll be better coming from me to ask about this, rather than the Bureau."
>You stand up and walk over to another desk and make a cup of coffee.
"This pot fresh?"
>"Grab yourself a fresh cup of Good Morning America, Anon, and make us another two as well."
>You roll your eyes as you fill up some mugs and add cream to yours.
>"Can I ask this, Anon?"
>Ace booms a little louder.
>"How's your love life?"
>You choke on your drink and even Coffee does a double take.
"My what?"
>"Anonymous, I must ask such a question. I need to make sure all my agents are on top form, both in body and in mind."
"If you must know, my love life is functioning."
>You say brashly but Ace continues.
>"Also, because I think you need a wife with you. It makes you look less suspicious and maybe the women at the school could open up to her."
>"It's an excellent idea that works. Maybe we can have another agent with him, I'm sure we can find..."
>Coffee states as he places his mug on the case file, you jab your finger on it.

"No. If we're doing it, we're going to it my way."
>Coffee takes the mug off and it leaves an ugly ring.
>"I'm sorry, Anon, but I know what you're gonna say and I can't allow it! If there's two of you, the other needs to be an agent to back you up!"
>Ace shouts and you shake your head.
"They'll get suspicious if I'm married to a normie, Ace. It's got to be a witch."
>"I know some witches and wizard here in my division. Hell, even some psychics..."
"I know the perfect witch to help me out. Trust me, Ace, I know what I'm doing."
>Ace drums his fingers on the table as he thinks a way around it. But Coffee bravely steps in.
>"Might I offer a compromise? Anon brings in his witch in but we have her some basic training make sure she can handle herself."
"Trust me, Klatch, she can handle herself."
>"I don't know, Anon, I don't like it. I'm getting a bad feeling about it. And I mean Foaledo-bad."
>Ace observes and ends with sucking in through his teeth. Coffee then asks the obvious as he finishes his drink.
>"What happened in Foaledo?"
"We don't talk about Foaledo. And Ace, don't question my judgment like that."
>You say sternly as Ace backs off.
>"Okay, Agent Lorenz, we'll go with your plan but if it all goes to hell in a handcart, it'll be your neck on the line. Not mine."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, chief..."
>You sarcastically muse on as you sip on the coffee.
>"No problem, Anonymous!"
>Ace gives you his trademark thumbs-up.
 "Ugh. Well, if you guys serious about this."
>"We are, that's why you're going for a job interview there in three days time."
>Coffee rather smugly says.
"What?"
"He's right, you know!"
>Ace boasts equally loudly.
"Well, excuse me, I have some important phone calls to make. Ace. Agent Klatch. Good day."
>And with that, you storm out of the office.

>Taking a comb out of your inner pocket, you smooth back your hair.
"Agent Lorenz seems like a peculiar man."
>"I like the way his mind works, Klatch. He has his own MO."
>You nod.
>"MODUS OPERANDI!"
>You're Agent Coffee Klatch and you leave your seat for another cup of Good Morning America.
"So who are these witches Special Agent Lorenz knows! This 'Chariot' character and the other one!"
>You pour a fresh cup and stand by the percolator. Ace stands and looks out of the window, to the cityscape outside.
>"Remember that I told you Agent Lorenz was a wizard? That Shiny Chariot witch was his mentor. She was one of the better mentors, he tells me. However, other apprentices made... colorful allegations against her. Abuse. Mentally and sexually. All crap, he says as well."
>You whistle.
"Holy shit, chief. Any truth to the claims?"
>"She fled the country. Is that proof enough?"
>You whistle again and drink your delicious namesake.
>"And the other witch?"
>You actually notice that Ace says that with some spite.
>'Must ask him what he means by that.'
>"She's actually Anonymous' old magic assistant. You know how the Bureau hired him?"
"Yeah, he was a stage magician out west, wasn't he?"
>Ace nods.
>"Yep. We hired him to help bust open the mafias and their gambling rackets. We tried to get her as well. But she was a stubborn witch, would never help the likes of us."
"So will she help Anon now? He's an agent too."
>Ace looks rather bleak as he turns to face you. 
>"I said that witch is stubborn so I'm skeptical if she'll help us with this case. If not, I know some agents who will."
"Get those names prepped and sent to me. You can reach me at the Trottingham field offices, chief!"
>Ace nods and gives you a thumbs-up.
>As you walk out, you realize something.
"Just one more thing, what's her name!"
>"Hmm? Oh, errm... Trixie, I think. Trixie Lulamoon."

-- Part One - Under Dark Stars --
-The Present Day-

>Tapping your foot and scan-reading the newspaper, you feel rather nervous.
>For the first time in ages as well.
>It's a job interview for something you're not too well versed in.
>Teaching Defense Against Dark Magic at one of the most pre-eminent witchcraft and wizardry schools in the country. It's like manna from heaven.
>Even if it's been years since you last practiced magic. Never mind taught it.
>'God, I'm dying for a cigarette...'
>Folding the paper up, you reach into your inner pocket and take out some nicotine gum.
>Unwrapping it and chewing on it, you feel the rush of chemicals ruining your brain.
"Ahh..."
>You quietly sigh as not to disturb the secretary, diligently writing up reports, memos and other such paperwork.
>Reaching for the newspaper, you scan around the room.
>A tall, dark wood-panelled room that carries a slight dank, musky smell, with cheap green carpet laying on the floor.
>Tall windows to overlook the well-manicured front lawns. Despite the late fall season, it still looks beautiful.
>The secretary sits in front of the windows, behind what looks like a cheap, flat-pack desk and wooden filing cabinets stand like sentries by either side of the windows.
>Sitting in somewhat comfortable chairs, you eye up the door. Presumably, it'll lead to your fate.
>The gum's going a bit stale actually so you reach into your jacket pocket for that wrapper again.
>Looking to the secretary to make sure she's not checking you out, you stick out your tongue to grab the gum.
>The door suddenly opens and out steps a tallish woman. She's wearing a dark blue blouse, a knee-length skirt and a long, black cloak. Her beautiful lengthy hair matches the blouse.
>You freeze up, startled by her sudden appearance.
>"Mister..."
>You briefly looks down to a clipboard in her arm.
>"Anonymous Cognito?"
>The gum slips off your tongue and onto your trousers.

"Yes, that's me."
>You grab the gum and squash into the wrapper.
>Standing up, you flick it into the waste bin by the desk and warmly take the woman's open hand.
>"I'm the deputy headmistress, Luna Artemis. Please, step this way."
"Thank you, Mrs Artemis."
>"Ms, please, Mr Cognito."
>You follow her though into a long room with a polished woodblock floor.
>It's a very long room with a Louis Quinze desk at the far end. 
>Standing by the high-backed chair and looking to the windows is a tall, erect figure wearing one of those cloaks with a white, frilly blouse and a dark purple skirt under it.
>Subconsciously, you tighten you tie and smooth out your overcoat and you hope that gum hasn't stained your trousers.
"Headmistress Celestia Solaris?"
>You enquire, remaining on your feet as the deputy headmistress sits in a slightly smaller chair behind the desk. 
>"Of course. My, my, you've done your research. Welcome to the Luna Nova Witchcraft Academy, Mr Cognito. Please, take a seat."
>She has a hawk-like face; longish but with a soft jaw. Her eyes are a piercing magenta and she stares penetratingly at you.
>She offers you her hand and you take it but her grip is so firm, your fingers would have suffered if you weren't prepared for it.
>You sit down, take off your satchel and lean it against your chair.
>"If you wish, you can take off your coat and hang it there." Ms Artemis says, pointing to the coat rack.
"I'd prefer to keep it on, if you don't mind. I'm feeling a chill, that's all."
>"We understand, Mr Cognito. Or may we call you Anonymous?" Ms Artemis asks.
"Anon or Anonymous. Whichever you prefer."
>You answer, slicking back your green hair.
>"Right, maybe you can begin by telling us about yourself." Ms Solaris begins.
"As you know, my name is Anonymous Cognito and for the last few years, I've been overseas in England, teaching at the Royston Vasey Institute of Magical Studies."

"Before that, I taught at the Coldwater Academy here in this country. It's another respected school for wizards."
>"Yes, we have received excellent references from both schools." the deputy headmistress begins, "we are surprised by the reference by Professor Chariot, to be honest, Anonymous."
>You smile slightly.
"Not only was she my boss at RVIMS but she was also my mentor when I was an apprentice wizard, one of the last ones, might I add, before the national scheme was mothballed because of lack of interest..."
>"We know, Anonymous." the headmistress interjects, "our academy here was a partner with the scheme, we even provided theory work for the apprentices."
>"The headmistress and I were also apprentice witches, like yourself, so I can understand your frustrations, Anonymous. Chariot must have taught you well to be a good wizard."
"Technically, I'm a warlock. Warlocks are magic males born from the witches' bloodline and I'm from the Bletchley bloodline. I think the first male born in what? 5, 6 generations?
>You stroke your already growing stubble.
"I can't remember what the female equal would be..."
>"Mages, I believe." Celestia answers, playing with her blouse's ruff.
"That's it. Sorry, I disgress, I didn't mean to bore you."
>"Don't worry, Anonymous, we wish to learn more about yourself." Ms Artemis admits, "it says in your resume that you had some work published."
"Yes, I did. I'll say that it wasn't published under my name though."
>You reach down into your satchel and pull out a folder.
>Moving the chair forwards and placing the folder on the desk, you pull out some papers.
"It was thought I was too inexperienced so it was published under Chariot's name with me under 'additional information'."
>You pass the papers to the duo and they read it intently.
>As they are distracted, you quickly reach under the desk to... scratch your leg.
>Yeah, let's go with that...
>"I'm surprised the Magical Lancet published them under her name, to be honest." Ms Solaris says disapprovingly, "considering her past. Those sexual misconduct allegations are hard to ignore..."

"Nothing was ever proved, Headmistress. Because that's what they were. Allegations."
>You firmly say as Ms Solaris just stares and raises an eyebrow.
>"I will have to say, Mr Cognito, that I do not approve of having male teachers here at an all-witches school. But needs must. The disappearance of Miss Harshwhinny has put the school under a considerable strain."
>"However." Ms Artemis interrupts her superior's rant to salvage the interview, "these Lancet theses are most fascinating. Using gray magic to combat hippogriffs and griffins shows you have a valuable intellect this academy needs."
>"And besides." Luna turns to the headmistress, "you are not the first man employed here."
>She turns back to you and divulges more information.
>"We have others, the school porter Mr House. Also, Mr Doodle who teaches history of magic and Mr Soarin, our resident broomstick flyer."
"Broomsticks. The one thing I could never handle. Thank goodness it was never compulsory on the apprenticeship scheme."
>"It's no wonder you started your magical career as a stage magician, is it then, Mr Cognito?"
>Ms Solaris jeers as an attempt to shake your confidence but you take it into your stride.
"I make no effort to hide my past as the Great Lorenz, the Magical Showman in Las Pegasus, headmistress. It's clearly there on my resume. "
>You rather smugly chatter about as she raises an eyebrow again. 
"And surely, there's no real difference between entertaining tourists and teaching students. You're showing information for them to think on and process."
>Ms Solaris purses her lips a little as her deputy snorts.
>"I think that concludes our interview, Mr Cognito. We have other applicants to talk to and we'll let you know if you are successful. Sis.. err... Ms Artemis, would you kindly show our guest out?"
>"Of course, yes." She answers hesitantly.
>The pair of you stand and make your way across the length of the room.
>She opens the door and shows you out.
>"We'll be in touch." Luna says as she offers her hand.
>She offers you her hand.

>He takes it and give you a warm shake.
>"Thank you for this opportunity, Ms Artemis. Good day."
>As he walks out of the empty office, you nod to Ravenna and close the door.
"Now, what was wrong with that one, Sister?"
>You are Luna and you shout at your sister, stood by the window.
>"I dunno. He seems too cocky, too arrogant. Someone ought to bring him down a level or two."
>She pulls out her wand and opens the window slightly. She points it at the opening door.
>Mr Cognito walk out and pulls out a small pack of something.
>"What's he doing?"
>You walk over to your sister and see Anonymous taps the pack and takes out a cigarette.
>As he lights it and takes a drag, you hear your sister snort dismissively and storms off.
>"Of course he smokes as well. He'll be a bad influence on the girls, I know it.
"He's the only candidate to apply though, Sister!"
>"Details, details. Harshwhinny will come back anyway, Lulu. It's only been a week."
"Her husband's having panic attacks and the local police have been crawling around. I don't think she is."
>You look rather nervous as Celestia looks at you sadly.
>"Look, Lulu. I know you like that man, okay? Ever since you read his resume and he knows Chariot, you've been starry-eyed ever since. Despite my judgment, I'll give him a trial period of six weeks. Or until Whinny comes back."
>She taps her wand on the table.
>"But if he puts a foot wrong, I'll throw him out of the school myself."
>Another tap to empathise her point.
"Thank you! I'll tell him myself later on then, yeah?"
>You almost squeal and your sister sits down and magically pick up a pen.
>"Of course, Lulu. Anything to make you happy." Celestia smiles as she 'writes' some memos.

>Signing your name and handing the book back to the porter, you walk out the building and stop on the steps.
>Turning your head slightly, you notice those two staring at you through the windows. Judging you.
>'Give them something to watch.'
>You are Anonymous and you pull out the pack of cigarettes, you tap one out and light it.
>Taking a quick drag, you blow out a couple of smoke rings and walk off to your car.
>Tapping your cigarette before you climb in, you see they've moved away from the window.
>Starting it up, you drive up the gravel road to the iron gate. Pressing the button, they click open and you quickly peel off out of there. 
>'Gives me the creeps, that school.'
>Driving back down the main road to Canterlot, you're coming up to that gas station you noted earlier.
>Pulling in and driving over that bell pusher they have, you see the attendant casually strolling out.
>"What do you want?"
"Full tank, please. Is there a phone here? My cell's ran out."
>"The pay-phone's around the back."
>He shouts as he grabs the pump hose.
>Putting out that cigarette and climbing out, you pat yourself down for that notebook in your overcoat pocket.
>'Phew, still in there.'
>Strolling and whistling, you look around to see if he's busy. Which he is, manhandling the hose into the filler hole.
>Finding the phone around the back, you run to it and ram some change into it.
>Taking the handset off and punching in the number, you take out the notebook and scan the numbers on the first page. A woman answers.
>"Bureau of Investigation, Trottingham field office. How can I direct your call?"
"Operations, please."
>"Clearance code?"
>You read the first code.
"Hotel-two-nine."
>"Please hold."
>After waiting for five seconds, a man answers.
>"Operations."
"Special Agent Anonymous Lorenz checking in."
>"ID code?"
>You read the second code.
"Four-two-four-nine-Sierra."
>"Thank you. Anything else?"
"I need to speak to Agent Coffee Klatch, is he in?"
>"He is. Hold the line please."

>10 seconds later and Klatch's bored voice comes through the handset.
>"Klatch."
"Lorenz. The eagle has landed."
>"Okay. Its twitterings are making for interesting listening. You'll get the job, I hear."
"It's a good idea about the bug I put under the desk then."
>"Let's hope it'll yield something or we've wasted another warrant."
"I doubt that. They know something. Anyway, what's next?"
>You enquire as he yawns loudly.
>"Canterlot PD, they're next, they need to know what we're up to. I'm gonna set off and I'll meet you there in an hour."
"There's a diner by the train station, the Black Cauldron. I'll meet you there instead, there's much to discuss and I don't want to do it over the phone."
>"If you say so, Anon."
"Until then, Coffee."
>"Missing you already."
>He clicks off and you put the handset back.
>Slipping the notebook into your pocket, you dash back to the car and see the attendant waiting in his booth.
>"That'll be $34.76, please."
"What?"
>You bellow but the attendant looks unfazed.
>"The tank was almost empty, boss, and you did say you wanted a full one."
>You sigh and take your wallet out.
"I'll need a receipt then."
>"You're the boss."
>'Why do I get that feeling I'm not?...'
>You think to yourself as you pass the money over.

-- Part Two - Black and Blue --

>Seen on a street plan, Canterlot is a town going nowhere and driving round it, you get that same impression.
>Moving along the state road that takes you from the countryside into the town center, you briefly consider either driving through the suburbs of Greenhill or the slums of Lowtown, but you decide that driving direct is best so avoid the turn-offs and continue following the state road.
>It leads into the town anyway.
>The ancient center is comprised of old blocks and walls, harking to its past as a Colonial fort.
>The walls are stained with the grimes of ages, hadn't been cleaned for years.
>Shutters hung at drunken angles. Nowhere was there any sign of paint being used for a decade.
>Traffic everywhere, filling the streets, parked nose to tail on the sidewalks. Most bore signs of collisions - dented chassis, battered doors.
>You wonder if the suburbs were any better.
>'Sure, the robbers say their pleases and thank-yous...'
>After the best part of 30 minutes of wall-to-wall traffic, you reach that diner.
>Opposite the train station, a series of brown-bricked terraced buildings line the road. The businesses occupying them are what you expect for this small town; a grocery store, a thrift store, a electrical chain-shop and the diner itself.
>Taking up the two end buildings must be the offices of the local newspaper because painted on the upper-floor windows are the words "Canterlot" and "Times".
>While the offices are at one end of the dreary-looking building, the diner sits at the other end.
>You pull up in the train station parking lot and you wander across the road and into the eatery.
>"Well, howdy!" the elderly waitress proclaims, "welcome to the Black Cauldron.  What can ah get ya, young'un?"
>She speaks in a calm country accent, not unlike Klatch's actually. Her wrinkled green face curls into a warm smile and you can't help but return it.
"Thank you, Miss, but I just want to browse the menu."
>"Take yer time, then."

>Taking a menu from a nearby table and quickly scan it and the room.
>Just a motley crew of local people. Some old, some young. Some in business attire, some in casual wear.
>"Well, young'un? Made yer mind up?"
"I'll have the bacon and eggs, please. Scrambled, if you can."
>She smiles.
>"Comin' right up, hon'. What do you want to drink?"
"Coffee, black, please."
>You say while sitting in a booth, facing the front window. Taking off your coat, you slip out the cigarettes and ask for an ashtray as one of the young waitresses hands you a mug and fills it up.
>"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't allow smoking here. We'd prefer it if you do it outside."
"Right..."
>Stuffing the cigarettes into a pocket, you grab the coffee and coat and walk out into the cold.
>Putting on your coat, you pop one into your mouth and try to light it.
>'Must be out of gas...'
>Looking around for any suspicious types, you quickly put out your trusty wand and quietly say.
"Infernus."
>The tip of the cigarette glows and you take a sweet drag on it.
>"I thought you weren't allowed to do that in public."
>Turning around to the voice, you see it's Coffee Klatch, smirking like he's caught you in the cookie jar.
"I've perfected that trick over the years, Coffee. Hell, I can do it without the wand."
>"Really? I just assumed you could do magic with one."
"Only us special ones."
>You click your fingers, releasing some sparks.
>Taking the last drag on it, you drop it and stomp on the end.
"Come on, I'll order you something too. And no, they don't do wholemeal yogurts and dairy-free muffins."
>Coffee smirks again and walks in with you.
>"Well, howdy, friend. Welcome to the Black Cauldron. What can ah get ya?"
"He's my guest so he'll have the same as me, Miss...?"
>"Smith. Call me Granny though."
"Granny then. Put it on my bill please."

>"Righty, then."
>She waddles back into the kitchen as you two take your seats.
>Taking off your coats, you sip your drink as another waitress gives Coffee his drink.
>"Thank you." He compliments and he takes a sip.
>"Damn fine. Now that we're alone, maybe you can answer some questions. Like how does a wizard like you become an agent of the Bureau?"
>He grabs the sugar-shaker and pours some in.
"Wanna know my life story? Only if you tell me yours."
>He hesitates but he nods nonetheless.
>"Alright."
"Well, as a famous man once said, 'I was born at a young age'. My mother was the witch but my father was a mechanic with the Air Force and we all lived at the big base over at Cloudsdale."
>You swill the coffee in mug as the waitress and meals arrive.
>"Here you are, two bacon and eggs. Toast will follow."
>"Some butter as well, please."
>Klatch asks and she nods.
>As she walks off, you dig into your food and continue with your story.
"I was a late bloomer with magic, and my mother wasn't exactly pleased. She became very distant as I grew up. I became an apprentice as a way to please her and I was successful. Very successful. But you know what my mother said to me when I finished the apprenticeship?"
>Klatch shakes his head with a mouthful of egg.
"How could of you finished third in your class? You're a Bletchley, you should have finished first."
>"Jeez, what a cow..."
>Klatch honestly mutters as the toast and butter arrives.
"Thanks. And I've said worst things about her. The only good thing she's done for me was give birth to me. When I was six, I tried to fly a broomstick and failed miserably, she grabbed the broom and beat me with it. I was lucky to have a good dad, he always did his best to look after me when she disowned me and divorced him."
>You take a small heap of eggs and spread them onto the toast and take a mouthful.
>"Sounds like she's a right mean one. Do you stay in contact with her?"
>He inquires as he slices up some bacon.
"No. The last I heard is that she lives on her family's private island with a fella half her age. "
>He smirks as he chews on another piece of bacon.
"So how about yourself then? I bet you must have had one of those mad Dixie matriarchs in charge."
>Another smirk.
>"I never really knew my parents, only ... fading memories. They died in a traffic collision when I was seven and I got sent to the deeper South to live with my aunt and uncle. Uncle Earl Grey and Aunt Darjeeling. He was a rural county sheriff in Winnemec. He taught me law and order and I became a deputy under him after school."
>He says as he finishes his lunch, pushing the plate away and grabbing the coffee.
>"I knew he was taking bribes from some Dixie mafia outfit operating in the county. Corruption in public office, even if it was my uncle, shouldn't be allowed. But guess what he says about it."
"What did he say?"
>You as you finish you finish your meal, placing the knife and fork on the plate.
>"It's not all white knights and heroes, kid. We've got to make decisions to maintain law and order. And if that means letting bad guys do bad things in the name of a greater good, then so be it."
>You whistle and sup on the last of the coffee.
"Wow. How did you take it?"
>"He's still the sheriff and I work for the Bureau now."
"He's not exactly wrong, is he?"
>Klatch just shrugs.
>"Maybe as a small county sheriff but not as an employee of the federal government..."
>He leaves that sentence hanging, just begging for you to put your foot right into it.
"You're right there, Klatch, corruption has no place in the bureau."
>"Exactly."
>Lifting your mug for a toast, he picks his up and gently taps yours.

"Right, come on, it's time we're leaving."
>Slipping a twenty into one of the mugs, you and Klatch put your coats on and walk out.
"Are we going in separate cars?"
>"We're going in yours. I came by train."
>You harrumph.
"Clever man. Remember your expenses."
>He smirks again as the two of you cross the road and into the parking lot.
>Climbing into your car, you start it up as Klatch gets in.
>He whistles at the size of your SUV.
>"Can you even afford such a thing on your salary?"
"By wearing cheap-ass clothes, Coffee. Besides, I'd be very conspicuous driving around in a gray undercover cruiser ."
>"Well, that's true."
>Coffee agrees as you drive out of the train station and pull out, onto the main road.
"Now, where's the police station? Can you give me some directions?"
>Pulling his phone out and loading up a map app, he tells you where to go.
>Following his directions, you ponder on what was said in the interview.
"You know what's funny? That Solaris woman, she mentioned Harshwhinny but never the girls. Strange, isn't it?"
>"Not really." Coffee says, "it's not a smart thing to say during an interview, 'welcome to the Luna Nova magic school! Say! Wanna hear a good wheeze?' It doesn't look good, does it?"
"Yeah, you're right there, actually. Sounds pretty dumb."
>"You need to think as a teacher, Anon, not as a special agent. Well, for a week or two anyway."
>You nod as you spot the police station in the distance.
>The station itself is nothing more than a tall, Brutalist structure with an array of antennas and dishes on top.
>'Must be the headquarters.' You think.
>Pulling into the station's parking lot by some police cruisers, you find a spot and kill the engine.
>Stepping out, you say to Coffee, straightening his coat.
"Do you wanna do the talking? You're in charge, after all."

>"Of course, you'll say your bit, I'll say my bit and we'll see what the police have to say."
>You nod as you two enter the police station and hear the clatter of footsteps on the marble floors.
>"Yes, sirs? How can I help you two?"
>A cheery receptionist beams.
>"Hello." Klatch grins, "I'm Agent Coffee Klatch and he's Agent Anonymous Lorenz. We're from the Bureau of Investigation and we need to see the Chief of Detectives, Top Brass."
>"Okay, yah, you bet." She says in that Minnesota nice way.
>He looks back to you and grins.
>And he looks to the receptionist as she puts the phone down.
>"Okay, Chief Brass will see you guys now. Just go up those stairs and you'll find his office."
>"Thank you very much."
>"You bet. Have a swell day." She giggles.
>As you two walk up the stairs, you hear Coffee quietly boasts.
>"Still got it..."
"Quite the smooth talker."
>"Always been a sucker for that accent, Anon." He winks.
>At the top of the stairs, you find the office of the Chief of Detectives and you knock on the door. You note that all the blinds are closed behind the windows.
>"Come in." A gruff voice shouts.
>Opening up, you two step in and see that the Chief isn't alone in his office.
>Top Brass is a bald-headed, rotund-looking man in a rather loud brown suit. The other two detectives, you assume, stare blankly at the two intruders.
>The male detective in a sober black suit simply nods at you while the female detective in a dark blue pant-suit eyes to the two of you suspiciously.
>"Sorry I can't offer you two any seats. You are the boys from the Bureau?"
>"Yes, sir. This is Agent Anonymous Lorenz and I'm Agent Coffee Klatch, we spoke earlier on the phone."
>"Yes, I can never forget that accent, now can I?" He chuckles, "These two are Detectives Valiant Shields and Shining Armor. They'll be taking over the case from ... errm... Detectives Leads and Eye, of course."

"The Bureau would like to offer its condolences on the unfortunate passing, Chief Brass. Our boss says it's most distressing to lose any colleagues."
>You state, earning slight smiles from the police officers.
>"Thank you very much, Agent Lorenz." he praises, "now, which one of you is going undercover at the magic school."
"Me. I've already been interviewed by the academy's headmistress and now, I'm waiting for the results."
>You say as the female officer gives you a dubious look.
>"What happens if you don't get the job, if someone else gets it?"
>"He will. We've seen to that already." Coffee cuts in.
>"What about if they turn him down and hire no-one." Valiant interjects.
>"They can't." Coffee rebuttals, "they can't afford to considering it's already half-way through the semester."
>Both you and the other detective smirk at their argument.
>"Alright, cool it." Chief Brass appeals, "it' safe to assume that Agent Lorenz here will get in, then?"
>You and Agent Klatch nod.
>"And if he doesn't, you have a back-up plan?"
>"We take full control of the investigation and go on from there, sir." Coffee answer.
>Chief Brass looks confused.
>"I thought the Bureau was anyway."
>Coffee coughs and addresses him.
>"The Bureau is already busy in the area with cases of cross-state drug and stolen antiquity smugglings. Co-operation with the local police is key but if necessary..."
>"I get the idea, Agent Klatch. Speaking about the case,  we believe we have some new evidence. Detective Armor, get out your computer."
>"Of course, Chief." Armor says as he reaches into a bag and pulls out a laptop and some papers.
>"This is the post-mortem report on the dead girl, Lemon Zest." He mentions as he hands the laptop to Valiant and the paperwork to you.
>Scan-reading it, you quickly find out that the cause of death was a knife-wound to the chest.
>But the body has two chest wounds...
"Can we see the coroner about this? I just have some questions..."
>"I'm sure this can answer them for you, Bureau boy."
>Detective Shields condescends as she boots the device up and inserts a memory card.
>Browsing through the documents, she finds the right video file and clicks on it.
>As you and Klatch lean in, the footage starts.
>It's a blurry mess but then a forest scene breaks through.
>It then focuses in onto a rather macabre visage.
>Several figures wearing white robes, carrying torches and marching into shot. In the center of a grassy clearing are two altars, one of stone and one of wood.
>A rather tinny drum beat plays through the speakers.
>The figures carrying torches stand aside as four hooded figures with masks carrying what can only be described as a body wrapped in bandages make their way to the stone altar.
>The body is placed onto the altar as another hooded form appears in a poof of smoke and to a rapturous applause. This one is different because it is wearing gold robes and wears a mask with some sort of headwear.
>This entity quietens the crowd, pulls out a dagger, walks to the altar and shouts something.
"Nam appositi! Nam messis! Nam sol et stellae!"
>The crowd chants backs.
"Sol et Stellae!"
"Nam Sulis!"
>The gold one shouts as it stabs the body. Two robes moves to shift the body onto the wooden altar and two torch bearers walk over and light the straw and barley around it. Cheers erupt as the gold one lifts its arms up in praise.
>Then a quiet, stuttery voice comes through the speakers.
"It...it's Latin. 'For magic, for the harvest, for the sun and stars. For Sulis.' Please, take this seriously! Please. Oh no!"
"Hey! What the hay do you think you're doing!"
>One of the robes looks at the camera and points accusingly.
"No! Leave me be!"
>The first voice shouts back as the camera goes all shaky and points to the ground.  Shouts and screams are heard then the picture cuts out.
"What the fuck..."
>Is all you can say to the bizarre video.
>"What's this? Lemon Zest's final moments?" Coffee asks incredulously.
>"No, she would be alive and well for this. She wasn't burned and this was filmed on the 21 of June."
>Shields says as she points to the date-and-time stamp onscreen.
"That's the summer solstice. This must be some sort of ritual. Is paganism active in this region?"
>You inquire as Chief Brass contributes something valuable.
>"It must be practised at the Luna Nova academy. We found that stone altar while searching through the woods. Miss Lemon Zest was found not far from it as well."
"Maybe the sender wanted the police to be aware of ... whatever that is because they think it's related. Did you check out who sent it?"
>Valiant Shields scoffs at your simple question.
>"Who's the towhead? Of course we checked it out. Armor, show him."
>He nods as he pulls out more paperwork.
>"We found a partial print on the original memory card and we ran it through the database. We found that the sender had priors."
>Detective Armor says as you read the rapsheet. This "Moondancer" character has done nothing serious; just a couple of minor drug possessions.
"Who's Moondancer? Just a concerned citizen?"
>You inquire as you pass the papers to Klatch.
>"She's a whackjob in a town called Whitetail, out in the boondocks. She's wrapped too tight for Canterlot. Probably wrapped too tight of Whitetail."
>Detective Shields muses on.
>"If Moondancer sent the video, then surely she must have recorded it..."
>"Congratulations, we'll make a detective out of you yet."
>She sarcastically says as Klatch thinks out loud.
>"So what's her beef with the Academy then?" he says, ignoring her, "if you go out of your way to record their secrets, then you must have a motive."
"Maybe we should have a talk with her?"
>You ponder on but both Coffee Klatch and Top Brass shake their heads.
>"This sounds more like a local police issue." Klatch begins.
>"Besides, if she the local whacko, she'll go apeshit if two feds come knocking." Brass finishes.
>"Fine." Shields interrupts, "I'll ask the state troopers to check in on her; they've got a barracks up there."

>"No." Brass says, putting his hand up, "You two ask her about the video. Sort it out tomorrow morning, and I want to read it tomorrow afternoon."
>"Of course, sir. We'll get right under it." Shining Armor beams
>"That's the spirit, boy. If there's anything else to discuss, agents, I suggest we call it a day." Brass concludes the conversation by standing up and offer his hand to shake.
>Klatch grabs it and gives him a firm shake.
"Just one thing, Chief. Can we have a copy of that video?"
>You ask and Coffee agrees.
>"It makes for some interesting viewing."
>"Naturally. Here, take this." Shining Armor says as he unplugs the card from the laptop. "We've made back-ups."
>Klatch takes the card and makes his farewells to the others.
"Goodbye then. Thanks for the information."
>"Agent Lorenz, wait." Chief Brass says as he walks around the desk to meet you. "If you're going undercover, take this with you."
>He hands you a blue notebook, just like your own.
>"It has four phone numbers. My office and cell phone numbers and the contacts for Sergeant Spitfire, the commander of the nearby state police barracks. As Detective Shields said, they're based at Whitetail, close to the school."
>You slip the notebook into your inner pocket.
"Thanks, it'll come in handy."
>"I bet you won't need them but just in case. Good day, Agent Lorenz" He grins.
>You shake his hand, walk out and close the door. Going down the stairs, you see Klatch chatting up that real nice receptionist.
"Come on, Coffee, what would your wife say if she found out you're cheating on her?"
>The gal goes red and resumes her typing as Klatch spins around.
>"Anon, please!"
>You chuckle as you walk out. Holding the door for two officers entering, you look back and see him desperately fixing the situation.
>He strides out as you climb into your car.
>Stomping in and slamming the door, you can't help but laugh.
"Aww, is someone not getting enough at home?"
>"Shut up. I was lucky enough to save that."

>You snort again as you pull out of the parking lot and drive back to the train station.
"So who's the lucky one then?
>"She's called Ruby Glow and she's a fine-looking gal."
>He smirks and you comment.
"Oh yah, you bet. So, am I dropping you off at the station or what?"
>"Actually, I was hoping you would drive me back to Trottingham or is that too much to ask?"
>You mull on it.
>'Traffic's light going back and the motel's on the highway anyway...'
"Sure, why not? What are you planning? Some sort of expenses fiddle?"
>"No, of course not. I just didn't buy a return. That's all."
>Klatch retorts defiantly.
>Finding the right turn-off, you cruise onto the state road and head out of town.
>Sitting in silence, you point out your motel as you drive past it.
"That's where I'm staying. Winsome Falls Motel. A real flea-pit."
>"Hmm-mm."
>He mumbles as he looks out his side of the car, towards the forests.
"Suppose the truckers must like it."
>"Hmm..."
>You look at him as you grab a half-cigarette from the ash-tray and light it with a click of your fingers.
"For such a chatterbox, you sure are quiet in the car."
>"Can you crack open a window? You know, it's proven second-hand smoke is a carcino... you know, a cancer agent?"
>Looking back onto the road, you open your window a bit.
"Would it kill you to say something?"
>"I did."
"It's a fountain of conservation, man. Complaining at me for smoking. Look, I'm sitting here driving, the whole way back to Trottingham and I'm trying to chat. You know, keep our spirits up."
>He breaths in heavily and looks like he's regrets it, taking in your cigarette smoke.
>"I get bad migraines sat in a car. And your cigarette doesn't help."
"Then have a nap."
>He doesn't answer, he just continues staring out the front window.
"Well, two can play at that game." You say, flicking the butt out of the window, "we'll see how you like it, smart guy."
>Coffee Klatch doesn't look bothered at all.
"Total silence..."

-- Part Three - Standing in Another Woman's Grave --
- Act I - Duel -

>"It's a remarkable stroke of good fortune that you should be able to join us at such short notice, Mr. Cognito."
"Well, I'm very grateful for the opportunity, Deputy Headmistress."
>She quietly snorts at your formality.
>You're school teacher Anonymous Cognito and you're walking with the deputy headmistress of the Luna Nova Witchcraft Academy, Ms. L. Artemis.
>The thing is though, you're also Special Agent Anonymous Lorenz, investigating some of the bizarre crimes here at the academy. However, no-one outside of law enforcement knows this.
>Not surprising really, you are undercover after all...
>"Please, call me Luna. Or at least, Ms Artemis. I never really liked all that formality. It's really the Headmistress who does that."
"Of course, Luna. Speaking about the Headmistress, how is your sister?"
>Luna stops in her tracks.
>"How did you know we're related? Not a lot of people know that."
>You cock your head to a side.
"Is it really that hard to work out? You've got really similar faces. Maybe not in colour but in structure at least."
>She blushes slightly but starts walking again, out of the corridor and into the outside world.
>You and her watch a broomstick flying lesson in action. The teacher, in a tracksuit and gymshoes, blows his whistle and two students do a running start, make a jump and take off into the grey sky.
"Impressive."
>"Now, Luna Nova has a long history." Ms Artemis starts, "but I like to think we live in the present and look to the future. Of course, Mrs Harshwhinny handled other matters."
"Hmm-mm."
>You agree as the pair of you walk along the path around the back of the school and the fields, towards the school dormitories.
>"One duty is that she coached the school's basketball team but I don't think you'll be capable of that."
>You smile and look to the fields as more the two students make a perfect landing.
"I was more a football man, myself."

>"We'll make other arrangements. Also, she was responsible for the end-of-term school play."
"Oh. What play?"
You enquire as she looks to the fields as well.
"Something classical, I believe."
>A whoosh of a broomstick fly over your heads, causing the two of you to dive for the grass.
>"DAHH!"
"ARGH!"
>A smash of a window and a shower of shards rain onto your backs.
>Looking and getting up, you see a rather embarrassed student and the teacher running over.
>"Oh gosh! I'm so sorry!" She says, "oh no! It's Ms Artemis! Please, I am ever so sorry!"
>The young girl in a gym kit and tube socks gushes over as the teacher catches up.
>"Shut up, Starlight! That was a very dangerous manoeuvre you did! I have half a mind to..."
>"That's quite enough, Mr Soarin." Luna says as she dusts herself off. "I'm sure the young Glimmer didn't mean any harm. Be more careful next time, please."
>"Of course, of course." She exclaims.
>"Go back to your class."
>She nods and runs off.
>"Soarin, may I introduce our new Defense Against Dark Magic teacher, Anonymous Cognito?"
>"Nice to meet you."
>He puts his hand out to shake.
"Likewise."
>You grasp it and give him a firm shake.
>"Sorry about that." He apologises while pointing to the small group on the field, "it's one of the new transfers making a nuisance out of herself. I honestly don't think she can fly a broom very well."
>"Nonsense! Starlight Glimmer is just on her training wheels. Just be patient with her, that's all."
>Ms Artemis boasts and Mr Soarin skeptically sighs.
>"I'm not so sure about that. It's best I'm heading back. Good to meet you, Incognito."
"It's..."
>But you're just talking to his back as he runs off.
>"Don't worry about him, he's all talk and no trousers."
"Yeah-uh..."
>You two start walking again, a little quicker, to the school's outer buildings.
>"This is one of the three dormitories, Moonshadow. The other two being Starburst and Sunbeam.

>She opens the simple oak doors into sparsely-decorated corridor. Painted in a basic tan and carpeted in a cheap green cloth with the odd plastic plant and fire extinguisher framing the walls.
>She leads into the empty common room. It's filled with basic furnishings that would embarrass most prisons.
>"Now, in addition to your classroom duties, you will also act as House Mistress, or rather Master in your case, to Moonshadow. Ahem!"
>She clears her throat and pulls out her wand.
>"Induce Moonshadow groupies!"
"What are you..."
>"Shush, please. AHEM! Induce Moonshadow groupies!"
>She coughs louder and shouts the magic words and suddenly, several poofs and bangs!
>It freaks you out a little, to be honest.
>Several multicoloured students start emerging from the smoke.
>"We were summoned, what's the problem?" One pupil with beautiful red and golden-yellow hair questions as she wafts the smoke from her face.
>"Yeah, what gives, Ms Artemis? This is our free period." The only girl wearing a Stetson rather than the uniform hat enquirers.
>"Meet you new House Master, girls! Mister Cognito!
>You meekly wave to the group of girls as some smile and wave but most remain skeptically quiet.
"Good morning..."
>They are still quiet.
>"Now, now, girls. Please. I know this is something different to what you're used to..."
>"Where is he staying at? Is it a good idea that a man is sleeping with a lot of schoolgirls?" Fire Hair asks bluntly.
>You throw Luna a quizzical look as she blushes.
>"Errm... well... you see..."
>She stammers so you save the day.
"We discussed this earlier, didn't we, Ms Artemis? I'm living in Whitetail, barely a ten minute car drive from the school."
>"None of us have cars though. All we have are our brooms." The girl with rainbow hair at the back points out.
"I have a car. Any problems and you can always ring me on that pay-phone over there."
>You say, pointing to the wall-mounted telephone.

>"I will move in, if necessary. Until a permanent solution can be found."
>Luna adds as a bespectacled student with purple hair raises her hand. 
>"Is he also replacing Mrs Harshwhinny as the Dark Magic teacher?"
"Well, the Defense Against Dark Magic anyway. I will be will picking up after Harshwhinny but, as Luna explained to me earlier, she had a more theoretical approach to the lessons, yes? Book work about jinxes, curses and hexes?"
>Some of the students nod.
"Well, my way is more practical. Reading a book is one thing but outright experiencing it? I think students at your level ought to be practicing magic, rather than reading about it and then taking it out on each other."
>You articulate with Luna nodding in agreement.
>You take out your trusty wand and lightly cough.
"Right. Anyone care to dual me?"
>The student just stare blankly at you.
>You tap the couch and in an aura cloud, it shunts itself into the corridor.
"Come on. Who's brave enough?"
>With none of the students volunteering, the deputy headmistress sticks her hand up.
>"Alright, I will then."
"Good, I think the girls will like it when the teachers whoop each other's asses."
>Some grin at your casualness.
>You stand at one end, by the television set and Luna stands at the other, in front of the doorway.
>Cracking your knuckles, you quickly draw your wand out and shout.
"Cotton candy storm!"
>A bright pink fluff bursts from your wand and flies straight towards Luna.
>She quickly dives out of the way, into the corridor.
>The cotton candy, with a sticky wet 'plop', lands on the carpet behind her.
>Recovering quickly, she draws her own wand and shouts.
>"It's a knockout!"
>A bright green bolt shoots out but you duck as it zaps over your head and burns a hole into the wall.
>Ducking down and rolling forwards, you grasp your wand in both hands and say.

"Ray of Mouthwash!"
>With a surprised whoop from the crowd, a blue liquid blasts out of your wand and with a skilful tuck and roll behind the couch, Luna misses the mouthwash as it takes out a plant pot.
>Distracted by the breaking pot, you miss Luna jumping over the couch and shout.
>"Spastic enchantia!"
>But with a highly-tuned ear, you easily hear her jinx and cast a shield, a useful shield, around yourself.
"Armor of cardboard!"
>A brown ring appears at your feet and a wall of cardboard shoot up to the ceiling and it easily blocks her bolt of magic.
>A light ripple of applause from the students makes the deputy headmistress to look away and scowl. You quickly look around the shield.
>'The mistake has been made!"
>Bursting through your cardboard shield, you bellow.
"It's A Knockout!"
>A green bolts shoots out of your wand and zaps into Luna's chest, blasting her over the couch and into the pile of cotton candy.
>"OOF!"
>And with a splat, she lands butt-first.
>Another round of golf-claps from the crowd.
>You put your wand away and quickly jog to the deputy headmistress.
>Offering your hand to her, she takes it and you lift her up from her sticky chair.
"Truce?"
>"Truce. Oh jeez, my robes are ruined. Why did you choose cotton candy of all things?"
"Confusion. Can't think straight if you still wondering why your opponent picks the stranger duel spells to fight with."
>She groans in agreement and grabs her wand on the floor.
>"Detergentious."
>A beautiful blue mist leaves her wand tip, envelops her robes and scrubs it clean.
>"Girls. We'll be taking our leave now."
>With a rapturous applause and whoops, you take a bow to the girls.
"Thank you, thank you. I'm here all week."
>"Now, clean this mess up, girls. Don't be late for your Herbology class and no slacking!"
>As the all groan in disappointment and taking out their wands, you two take your leave and exit the dormitory.

> In the outside world, Luna bends over and coughs loudly.
"Are you sure you're alright? You took that knockout jinx like a champ, you know."
>As she hawks back some phlegm and spits it out, she dabs her mouth with her handkerchief.
>"I'll live. But I'll prefer to sit down. We'll go to your classroom and continue your orientation there."
>Walking on the short pathway back into the main building, you enter it through a set of back doors and follow Luna.
>"Forgive me for asking a personal question but you are a married man, yes?"
>You fiddle with your ring and answer.
"Yes. My wife isn't here though. She's travelling with the last of our belonging from Sire's Hollow."
>She nods as you take out your wallet.
>Opening it, you take out an old photograph of you and Trixie in your magician outfits.
>"That's right, you used to be a stage magician. Quite the strange outfit, you had."
>She quires your loud-coloured robes and cap.
"I'm sure it's still in storage somewhere..."
>"Must have been the whirlwind romance. You marrying your assistant."
"We were already close, we were always working and living together. We didn't know many other people, beside our agents and other magicians. In the end, we chose to... consummate our relationship."
>"You make it sound so... clinical."
>She observes honestly as you nod.
"She'll make it sound romantic, I know she will." 
>She smirks as you two navigate through the corridors.
>"If the school play falls through, can you two put on your old show?"
>She quips as you think on.
"I ought to have my old robes and cap."
>"No, no, no." Luna objects as you two climb a set of stairs, "I was only joking. And I don't know if my sister will agree to that, she doesn't like to see our craft commercialized."
>At the top of the stairs, Luna points to the nearby door. She opens it and you two walk in.
>"Here we are. Your classroom. You won't be teaching until this afternoon so you can familiarize yourself with your room."
"Naturally."
>Looking around as she leans on one of the desks. The wide room has those old-style tables with slanted tops and storage compartments. Bookshelves line the walls with curiosities on top of them, like stuffed animals and dusty antiques.
>You long desk sits at the front of the classroom, with a large blackboard behind. And with tall windows, it is a light and breezy room.
>"There's a storage room at the back that holds things like duel mats and steamer trunks for storage."
>Luna Artemis says as you walk over to your desk.
>"Well, as the teachers would say 'welcome to St. Bastard's. Ye who enter here, all hope abandon.' I do hope you'll enjoy it here, Anonymous."
"I will. Just one thing before you leave, Ms Artemis."
>"Oh? What about?"
>She enquires as you lean on the desk.
>"She was married, wasn't she? Mrs Harshwhinny."
>She nods sagely.
>"Yeah, that's right. The Headmistress is letting him stay on, at one of the old groundsmens' cottages, until he can find another place to live."
"That's nice of your sister."
>You compliment.
>She stand and saunters to the door.
>"There'll a little drinks-do in your honour in Celestia's office at the end of tomorrow. You and your wife will join us, won't you?"
>She smiles and opens it.
"Assuming she arrives today, we will."
>"Good morning then, Anonymous."
>She gently closes the door.
>You exhale loudly and walk to the window to open it.
>'It's very stuffy in here. This room is quite the sun-trap.'
>As fresh air blows around you, you look down to the faculty parking lot and pull out your packet of cigarettes.
>Quickly taking one out and lighting it, you think about your assignment.
>Blowing the smoke out of the window, you take out your phone.
>Ringing the number, it connects through.
"Hey, Trixie. It's me, Anon. When are you arriving?"

- Act II - Authority -

>Eating the last of the ham sandwich, you leave the cafeteria and head outside, around the back of the main building and into the faculty lot.
>Patting for your car keys, you think to yourself.
>'Oh God, where are they? There's not in my coat pocket, are they?'
>You're Anonymous "Cognito" and  you just realized you're actually patting down your shabby set of wizard's robes. An old black robe that has been darned in several places but it's comfy nonetheless.
>Finding your blue SUV in a sea of sedans, you open the trunk and take out your satchel case, with some useful notes for the lessons.
>Walking back, you note some of the odder cars in the lot. Unusual cars for teachers to drive, like that white van. Or the silver convertible at the far end of the lot. Or even that light blue sports car parked next to yours.
>'Quite the classic. Someone has got good taste. I bet it's that Soarin's. Heh, mid-life crisis.'
>Chuckling to yourself, you lock up your car and walk back to the school.
>Walking through an archway and into the main courtyard, you see three girls picking on another younger one. That Starlight Glimmer from earlier, you think.
>" 'Dearest Star, we wish you a happy birthday and can only express our deepest apologises for not spending your special day with you.' Aww, how cute, you little folly." The first girl with the vivid and poofy orange hair jeers.
>She passes the letter over to another girl with one hand while keeping Starlight away from it with the other.
>" 'We hope you are enjoying yourself at the Academy and making lots of new friends.' You've such a nice folly family. And you are making lots of friends, aren't you!" The second girl with purple and mint-green pig-tails mocks.
>"For realsies? I bet she's the most popular of all the follies!" The third girl with the blue pony-tail brags.

"Hey! Stop that at once! If I have to repeat myself, you'll all be in detention until the end of the semester!"
>You shout as you stride over to the confrontation.
"Is that clear? What's going on?"
>The three girls all beam a very smug grin.
>"Dazzlings' rights, sir." Poofy says.
>"Survival of the fitness, sir." Twin Tails says.
>" To beast the follies, sir." Pony Tail says, earning her a sharp look from the other two.
"That's called bullying in my book."
>"Call it what you will, sir, it will happen anyway." Twin Tails arrogantly puts it.
"Go on, all of you. Before I report the three of you to the Headmistress."
>"You're no fun, sir. Come on, girls, we don't wanna be late now." Poofy pouts and saunters off .
>"Here's your letter back. Happy birthday, little folly." Twin Tails sneers, scrunching up the letter and throwing it back.
>Pony Tail says nothing, waves energetically to you both and skips off to Poofy's side.
"Weird bunch."
>You mutter and turn to Starlight, who is quietly sobbing and picking up her things.
"Are you okay? It's Starlight, isn't it?"
>She meekly nods and wipes her nose on her own robes.
>You help her pick her things up.
>"Thank you, sir, but there's no need to..."
>She sniffles so you hand her your handkerchief.
"What was all that, anyway? Are you being bullied?"
>You gently inquire, which earns a sharp shake of Starlight's head and a loud blow of her nose.
>"Dazzlings' privilege, sir. As Sonata said, to beast the follies."
>You put your hand on her shoulder.
"Well, if it happens again, you come and see me. All right?"
>Another meek nod.
"Go on. On your way."
>"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
>With all her things rammed into her messenger bag, she runs off.
>Folly. It's been a while since you last heard that word. A magic child born to no-maj parents.
>Folly bullying must still be prevalent. You rather innocently thought it would have died out years ago.

>Still in thought, you slip on a writing book and notice that ball of paper. Picking them up, you shout back, over your shoulder.
"Hey. Wait a minute."
>Looking around, you see that the young girl has vanished. You read the cover.
> 'S. Glimmer.'
> 'Subject : Potions.'
>And on the cover are little doodles, scribbles and even ingredients for the sleeping draught.
>'Where was Potions again? First floor, east wing, I think.'
>Tucking the book and the ball into your robes' pocket, you quickly jog into the building and head to the east wing.
>The main building of the Academy really only houses the classrooms for the core subjects; Charms, Potions and Astronomy. As well as History of Magic, Defense Against Dark Magic and Herbology.
>Newer annexes were built over time to in order to meet the demand for more students and more subjects .
>But nowadays, sections of the main building are closed off and forbidden to access for student and teacher alike.
>Years of poor funding, mismanagement and general lack of maintenance means that the main building is crumbling away. Like an old sandcastle under the waves of time.
>You wonder if the head teachers live on site or if they live in Whitetail.
>The Academy owns properties in the nearby town. A street called Forest Close, which consists mainly of two short rows of cottages in the south end of town with one side backing onto the woods.
>You were blessed when Ms Artemis gave you one of the cottages. Even more so when it was lived in by Harshwhinny and her husband. You made a mental note to have Klatch come round to have a good snoop inside.
>Walking around the building, you note students and teachers charging around. But you also spot three familiar figures being lead by that secretary up a flight of stairs.
>'Speak of the Devil and He shall appear. Why is Klatch and those cops here? Did that Moondancer reveal something?'

>Thinking what nonsense that kook probably said, you find the Potions classrooms and a teacher unlocking her room.
>You walk up and enter her room but friendly magenta face with shoulder-length purple hair smiles at you from behind her desk.
>"Ahh, hello. You're that new teacher, Anon Cognito, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. How did you know..."
>"Luna said a new man would be teaching Defense here. And you're a new man here. I'm Cheerilee, Mr Cognito. It's a pleasure to meet you."
>She chats but you still look unsure.
"I more mean how did you know I was walking in here, Mrs Cheerilee?"
>She cocks her head to a side.
>"Are you one of those 'special' people? I saw you following me. You can't miss a man wearing those ragged robes."
>You blush slightly.
"Alright, I guess. I was just here to drop these off."
>Reaching into the pocket and pulling out the book and squashed letter, you hand over to the teacher.
>Putting the book onto her desk, she unscrunches the letter and reads the first couple of lines.
 >"Did you ball this up?"
>She asks sharply, surprising you.
"No, I didn't. There were three girls bullying Starlight. One of them did it and threw it on the ground."
>"The Dazzlings, I presume?"
>You nod and she sighs.
>"Those three are always so vicious to the younger students. I hope you'll do something about it. If you don't know, their names are Adagio Dazzle, Sonata Dusk and Aria Blaze. I can't stand bullying."
"They sound mad. I'll report it to the Headmistress when I get the chance."
>She smiles.
>"Thank you. I'll give the notebook to Starlight at her next lesson. It's good to see a man like yourself looking after her."
"I'll try my best, Miss."
>*BRING*
>"The siren call, Mr Cognito. It's best you're going to your class. If you want, you can meet some of us in the bar in Whitetail after school. The Chalk & Gown."
"I'll think about it."
>You walk out the door and shout back.
"I've thought about it. I will do!"

>*BRING*
>'Jeez, that bell doesn't get any quieter.'
>"If you like to take a seat please, Detectives, and I will tell Headmistress Solaris at you are here."
>You're Agent Coffee Klatch and with the two Canterlot PD detectives, you take the seats offered.
>The secretary walks to her desk, presses the intercom button and speaks clearly.
>"Ms Solaris? I have three detectives from the City Police wishing to see you."
>A pause and then Solaris demands in a tinny voice.
>"Right. Show them in, please, Ravenna."
>It clicks off.
>Without saying anything, she walks from her desk to the door, opens it and lets you all in.
>Walking into her long office last, you hear your footsteps clatter on the wooden floor.
>"Come in, come in please. I'm Headmistress Celestia Solaris. Can I get any of you something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Iced water?"
>She amiably greets you all as she stands from her seat.
>"No thank you, we hope to not take up too much of your time, Ms Solaris." Detective Shields compliments.
>"My condolences on the most unfortunate deaths of the other detectives." Ms Solaris sympathizes. "You have my thoughts and prays. However, we've not had the pleasure of meeting before. You three are?"
>"I'm Detective Shining Armor and this is Detective Valiant Shields, Canterlot PD." The detective replies while both of them pulls out their badges.
"And I'm Agent Coffee Klatch, Bureau of Investigation."
>You say as you pull out your own badge.
>This revelation confuses the poor Headmistress, cocking her head to a side.
>"Why is there an agent of the Bureau here? Seems like overkill for minor misdemeanours."
"Ma'am, you have a missing teacher, a dead student and another lying in a coma. I'd hardly call those circumstances 'misdemeanours' to be honest."
>She rubs her hands together and leans on her elbows.

>"Life moves on regardless, Agent Klatch." Ms Solaris muses on, "The sun and stars will continue shining no matter what they shine on. Now, will you three take a seat at the very least?"
>And you do.
>"So how can I help the police department and the bureau in their investigation again?"
>The Headmistress addresses as you tap your knee.
"I'm here to reaffirm what you said in your personal statement. You were one of the last people to see Harshwhinny here at the school."
>"You're right." She agrees, "I saw her get into her car as I was getting into mine almost two weeks ago. Beyond that, I can't say where she went. In my statement, I merely speculated she went home."
>"She did." Detective Shields interjets, "she went home and then went onto a bar in Whitetail, called the Chalk & Gown, with her husband."
>"Then it seems that the barstaff or even her husband are more valuable witnesses then little old me, detective." Solaris rather smugly clarifies.
>"We know." Detective Armor acknowledges, "and we'll be going over their statements in due course. We believe Mr Plimsolls is still here on site?"
>"In one of the old groundsman's cottages. I'll have our porter show you where to go once we've concluded here."
"Can you tell us anything about Harshwhinny? From what we've gathered, this seems very out of character for her."
>Celestia rubs her chin in thought.
>"I'll admit she wasn't popular with all students and teachers but she was a honorable and hard-working educator who always tried her best with the pupils. Sure, she was a bit heavy-handed but what good teacher isn't?"
>"Any wrong with her personal life? Could she have said anything about it to you or anyone else?" Shields enquires.
>"Not that I'm aware of." She states.
>"Any complaints from students or parents?" Armor asks.
>"I'm aware she had some of the students wait on her, like running errands in the town but nothing worth my attention anyway."
"Who are the students and what kind of errands are we talking about?"

>You inquire as you write in your notebook.
>"If I'm right, it was Suagrcoat and Lemon Zest. And a couple of others but they've been since expelled. Trouble-makers, nothing to worry about." She answers, "And the errands were just getting supplies from the stores in the town and dropping off papers at her cottage."
>You jot this information down with another note about asking Anonymous to make discreet inquires in Whitetail.
"Do you think it's a coincidence that the two students you named are the same students who are either dead or comatose?"
>"Yes. Just because they were runners for Harshwhinny doesn't mean anything does it? They could have been injured for other reasons." She flatly answers.
>"I'm sorry, runners?" Shields highlights, "seems like an odd word to use."
>"I believe it's another word used for courier. Really now, Detective, it seems like you are just fishing now, to find reasons to make up a culture around the school." Ms Solaris ridicules as she stands and walks to the window, "that's the problem with no-majs nowadays. No class."
>"And that's the issue with the modern witch today. Arrogance." Detective Shields provokes, earning a sharp look from the Headmistress.
>"I can't say I care much for your manners, Detective." Celestia chides, " Now, if there's anything else to discuss..."
"Just a couple of things, Headmistress, the we will leave you in peace. And I will remind Detective Shields that while I'm in charge of this case, she will do well to curb her tongue."
>You command Shields as she looks annoyed and turns slightly in her seat to Armor.
>Celestia smiles for the first time in this meeting.
>"It's good to see that there some men who have had a proper upbringing, Agent Klatch."
"My momma taught me well. Both the waitress and her husband said Harshwhinny need to meet someone later on that evening. Do you think that someone could be anyone from at the school?"
>She shakes her head.

>"I can't say for certain. If the police did their job properly then one of teacher's statements would surely bring this to light." She says confidently.
"Some people do lie in their statements. It's our job to test them to destruction."
>You retort.
>"The mystery person might be called 'Amber Dawn' or something along those lines. Ring any bells?" Armor simply asks as he reads his own notebook.
>Another shake of her head.
>"I'm sorry, I can't help you there."
"I think that concludes our meeting. Headmistress Solaris, thank you for your time."
>You politely praise her as you all stand and make your way to the door.
>"I hope I was of some use, Agent Klatch. Detectives. Do have a pleasant day."
>You click your fingers.
"Sorry. Just one more thing, Ms Solaris. Completely slipped my mind."
>"What is it?" She asks.
"Would you know of any activities or events that happen in the woods the Academy owns? Like nocturnal gatherings, maybe?"
>She coughs and tugs on her ear.
>"Nothing I'm aware of. Maybe some of the girls might meet boys from Whitetail or Canterlot there but nothing of interest."
>You narrow your eyes slightly but say nonetheless.
"It's just that stone altar thing that was found out there. It's baffling the police and, dare I say, me a little."
>You convince Celestia of your incompetence. Which works wonders as she plays a good part of the confused teacher.
 >"This is the first I'm hearing of this. I'll ask Mr House and any of the gardeners to keep an eye on the woods."
"That's appreciated, thank you."
>"Not at all. Good day." She says as she activates the intercom.
>As Armor closes the door, you hear Solaris commanding Inkwell, through her intercom, to ask for Ms Artemis and to have the porter show the detectives and the agent to Mr Plimsolls' temporary home.
>"Of course, Headmistress, right away." Ravenna answers, clicking off the device, "If you care to wait outside the office, I'll get the porter for you."
>You three leave the office as Inkwell shuts the door. 

>"Well, that was... eventful." Armor muses on.
"Could have been better if Valiant didn't shoot her mouth off."
>"She just rubbed me up the wrong way. Eye said to me she had a knack for it."
>She defends herself with Armor nodding.
>"Did you two see the way she clammed up when you asked about that altar."
>Armor grins with you thinking out loud.
"Because she wasn't expecting it. She runs this school with an iron fist in a velvet glove. Of course she knows what goes on here and in the woods. Hang on a minute."
>You take your phone out and quickly tap out a message to a colleague in Trottingham to pay close attention to the tap in Celestia's office.
>Slipping your phone back, you look up and see a thickset, tall man wearing a black suit and one of those Derby hats walking through the crowd of students.
>Well, you say 'walking through', it's more like he's Moses and they are the waves he's parting.
>'The type of guy you want on your side of the fight.'
>Despite his gruff demeanour, he gives you all a warm smile and an outstretched hand.
>"Good day, detectives. Miss Inkwell has told me I'm escorting you all to Mr. Plimsolls. Yes?"
>You all nod to the sinister gentleman. You bravely take his hand but he gives a gentle shake.
>"Good. If you care to follow me."
>The porter rubs his massive paws together, turns around and walks off into the crowd.
>"The name's Charter House. I'm pretty sure I've talked to your other colleagues. Nasty way to go if you don't mind me saying, sirs. And ma'am, of course."
>You all nod again, despite the porter not seeing.
>"It's a real shame about your colleagues, if I can say so. They were so nice. But dying in such a way? It's a pity. A real pity. Leads told me he fought in Saddle Arabia."

>He speaks with a calm sincerity, you think. He isn't putting it on, he seems somewhat upset.
>"I was in the Army, 87th Airborne. I was in Saddle Arabia as well, you know? I even won medals."
>"My father also fought there." Shields comments, "Navy. Two tours. Swift boat. He was a lieutenant."
"So how does a man like yourself end up working as a school porter?"
>You innocently ask.
>"When I got discharged, it was around the time my pappy was retiring here." He laments as the four of you descend the stairs and head through the west wing of the school.
>"There have been generations of Houses looking after this school. When he retired, I took up the mantle. And here we are today."
>Exiting through the back doors, you follow the porter on the pathway around to the front of the school.
>"If you care to indulge me for a moment." Mr House wonders on, "I don't think Mrs Harshwhinny did anything to those young girls, if that's what you're thinking."
"Who's saying that is what we're thinking?"
>You suggest as the big guy stops, causing Shining to bump into his back.
>"Begging your pardon, sir."
>"No worries." Shining utters, rubbing his nose.
>"I didn't mean it like that, friend. I'm not meaning to tread on toes, it's just my opinion. Sure Harshwhinny is a bit mean but, like I said, she would never hurt anybody. Some people have that instinct and others don't."
>You nod.
>'This lug might be onto something. Maybe ask Anon to lean on him a little.'
>"This is it. The cottages are just through this hedge here."
>He leads you all through a leafy archway to a small row of three terraced cottages.
>Walking along the narrow path, the three of you bump into the big guy as he abruptly stops again.
>"I'm terribly sorry, Miss! I honestly didn't see you!"
>You rub your nose in annoyance as you look around Charter's side and see a woman laying on the ground.

>He bends down to offer her a hand up but she swats it away.
>"Oh, go away, you big oaf! Trixie needs no help!"
>'Is this the infamous Trixie..."
>You snidely think as she gets up on wobbly feet.
>Wearing simple jeans and a hooded jacket, she smarts her ruffled light blue hair and picks up a star-shaped hairpin.
>"I do apologise, Miss."
>"It's quite alright but Trixie must insist you watch where you are walking!"
>She storms off, brushing past the four of you and ends up almost falling into the hedge as she leaves.
>"I don't think she's alright." Detective Shields comments, "she was talking in the third-person."
"Errm... you two deal with Plimsolls. I'll see if the woman is alright. Thank you Mr House, for your time."
>"Not at all, sir."
>He walks off rather quickly, somewhat embarrassed.
>"Do you need me to..." Detective Armor begins but you silence him with a wave of your hand.
"I need you in there. Don't worry about me, I'll be back."
>Seeing the detectives entering the cottage, you jog back through the hedge hole and see Trixie sat on a nearby bench by the front quad, rubbing her face.
"Excuse me, Miss, but are you okay? You took a nasty fall back there."
>"Eek!"
>She yelps in surprise and spins around.
>"You gave Trix..."
>She starts but rubs her head in pain.
>"Sorry, it's a bad habit. But you did give me a terrible shock, sir."
>You walk over and sit with her. You decide to take a gamble.
"It's quite alright, Ms Lulamoon, I just wished to make sure you were alright."
>She looks to you and pulls a confused look.
"Lulamo... how the hay do you know my surname?"
"Anonymous told me. I'm Coffee Klatch."
>"Oh, so you're the fed." She simply says, pulling out a hairbrush from her bag.
"Yes. I'm that fed. Anonymous did talk highly of you."
>She smiles slightly.

"If you don't mind me asking, what were you doing up here?"
>You gently quiz her on. She looks over to you, putting the brush back.
>"We got some mail for him at the cottage. He left behind a forwarding address and I delivered them. Then I was barraged into that big brute."
"The school porter. He seems like a nice man."
>"Hmm." She scowls dismissively.
>She stands up, a lot more confidently, and looks down to you.
>"Look, Anon has told me what he's up to here at the Academy. Undercover work for your lot."
>She stops and looks through the fence and onto the nearby road. A police car charges down it, siren wailing into the distance.
>She sighs and sits back down.
>"Look, I was going to rant there and if you know me, you'll know why I distrust the feds. The point is, Mr Klatch, I know why Anonymous has put on the helmet of salvation. He wants to help the poor, the weak and the down-trodden and, in all fairness, so do I."
>She reaches into her jacket pocket and puts out a purple-patterned notebook.
>"I was gonna tell Anon but, seeing you're here and all, I tell you as well. Those letters, I looked at them. Call it a suspicious mind."
"How did you get into them, I presume you didn't rip the envelopes?"
>She looks at you smugly.
>"An old trick my mom showed me. Hold the back of it to the steam of a boiling kettle to melt the glue."
>You look let-down actually.
"Oh. I was expecting a magical spell or something..."
>"Oh come on, magic isn't some sort of shortcut to use. Ignorant no-maj..."
>She deadpans.
"What were the letters then?"
>You enquire, pulling out your own pen and book.
>"One was Harshwhinny's bank statement from Midwest National, nothing strange there, I think. The second was from a firm of attorneys. Ditcher, Quicke & Hyde. Looked them up, divorce lawyers in Canterlot. The letter was minutes of a meeting Plimsolls and Harshwhinny had with Ditcher."
"Divorce... lawyers. Hmm, makes you think..."
>You ponder on as you scrawl down the names.
>"Yeah, proceedings hadn't started, the meeting was merely speculation, apparently."
"What was the third?"
>"A love letter for Harshwhinny. No idea who from but the handwriting was definitely masculine. Heavy-pressed. Do I have to say what's written? It's a bit... graphic..."
>She shudders as she glances down to the transcript she'd written down.
"No, no. Just hand it over."
>She passes the page over rather quickly so you fold it and tuck it away into a pocket.
"Just those three?"
>"Yeah, just those three." She confirms.
>You two sit in the silence. You glance at your wristwatch, half three.
"Say, you would know anywhere to eat? I don't think that cafeteria is open to non-faculty or students."
>She smirks.
>"I do. There's a restaurant and bar in Whitetail, the Chalk & Gown. Or there's a Waffle Hut on the state road if you head couple miles north on it. Depends what you want, gourmet meals or fast food."
>You shrug and stand up.
"Whatever is cheapest, I guess."
>She stands up and zips up her hoodie.
>"The Waffle Hut then."
>Trixie shudders in the breeze as you button up your coat.
>"Burr. Looks like she'll turn cold tomorrow."
"Yeah, there's a front coming in."
>"Yeah, you got that right. It's been alright talking to you, Mr Klatch. Good afternoon."
>And with that, she walks off, down the path and through the woods.
>Tucking your own hands into your coat pockets, you hear in the distance the school bell ringing for the final time.
>You walk through the narrow archway and to Plimsolls' cottage. Armed with new information, you feel a little more confident about the situation.
>'Maybe those bitch witches don't know after all. Jealous husband or lover, maybe? Things might be a little more straight forward after all...'
>But one thing's still confusing you.
>'How do the girls fit into it all? Maybe things aren't so simple...'

- Act III - Trove -

>Sat downstairs in your small cottage, you read the local newspaper.
>Filled with nothing as per usual; just the local sport results and some articles complaining that the county authorities aren't doing enough.
>You know, the usual garbage.
>In the middle pages, you see a half-page spread. It's an appeal for Harshwhinny to make herself known, everyone's worried about her, blah, blah, blah.
>You close it up and put it on the dining table as you hear thudding from upstairs.
>You walk out of the kitchen and into the front room.
>'What am I doing here? This honestly is a waste of time. It's not like anything sinister is gonna happen...'
>You're Anonymous Lorenz/Cognito and you sit down on the small couch and pick up that poetry book you were reading. But you can't concentrate on it.
>'Following orders, I suppose. The boys upstairs must think this is important; it isn't every day two local police officers die a car crash.'
>You hear more thudding upstairs.
>'Must be the pipes.'
>You shout upstairs.
"How's the shower, Trix?"
>"The plumbing is positively medieval, Anon! You turn the tap for hot water and it barely dribbles out! You sure you weren't playing with the kitchen sink?"
>She jokily asks as she descends the stairs with her hair wrapped in a towel.
>"There's hardly enough pressure to wash all the shampoo out of my hair. Thai prisons have better amenities then this hovel."
>She huffs as she dries her hair.
"It's soft water."
>"Say what?"
"It's this Goddamn northern water, it's slick to the touch."
>"Yeah, well, I thought it was the shampoo."
 >She huffs again as she puts the towel around her neck.
>You sigh and slump back onto the couch.
"Could be that too. I always carry my own, you see. Agree."
>She tips her eyebrows as she loosens the belt on her dressing gown.
>"Agree to what?"
>You turn again and see Trixie Lulamoon in all of her glory.
"It's my... oh holy shit! Trix! Gimme fair warning next time!"
>You shout as you avert your eyes.

>"Oh come on, Anon! How many times have you seen me naked?"
"That's not the point, Trixie! Holy hell, I mean I didn't realize you were going to go commando!"
>"So you wear underwear under a dressing gown?"
>She points out as she takes out a bra and pants from the dryer and slips them on.
"I must be some sort of prude then."
>You blurt out as you engross yourself into that book.
>"Hmm. You've changed and not for the better."
>She sighs as she ascends the stairs.
>Feeling guilty because you're that kind of idiot, you stand and go up the stairs.
>Scratching yourself with one hand, you knock on the bedroom door with the other and she commands.
>"Enter."
>Now wearing an ice white blouse, she's sat on the bed, facing the dresser mirror and brushing her hair.
>"Aww, change that face, you idiot." She implores you, "it'll stick if you don't watch it."
"Speaking from experience then, eh?"
>You smugly quip back, earning you her patented frown.
>"Ooh, sick burn." She sarcastically says, "you'd better write that one down."
>You close the door and stand in front of the mirror hung up on it and take off your tie.
"What tie would be better? I thought that brown one would work with the waistcoat but now..."
>"Try on that red one of yours. I think it looks smart, no matter the occasion."
>You open one of the dresser draws and take out the red one.
>As you flip up the collar and wrap the tie around, Trixie asks you a question.
>"Agree to what?"
"Hmm?"
>"It's what were you saying downstairs. Agree?"
"Oh. That's the brand of shampoo I use. Agree. No additives. It works, hard water or soft. Feel my hair."
>You lean over the bed so she can feel it.
>She pinches some and comments.
>"Yeah, that's nice."
>Finishing the knot and straightening the tie, you say as she stand up and grabs the skirt besides her.

"So the plan's this. It isn't just a drinks party, there'll be a meal served too. The school bursar told me what's on offer; turbot au champagne and then beefsteak or lobster for the main. Desert will be some sort of sickeningly sweet apple pie. Local harvest, apparently."
>"Lucky us, I suppose. Lobster, did you say?"
>Trix enquires as she zips herself up.
"Yeah, lobster in a themidor butter. Sounds absolutely decedent..."
>You shudder as Trixie thinks.
>"You know, I noticed something. That restaurant in the town, the Chalk & Gown, it was suppose to serve lobster last night but never did."
"The wives of respectable young schoolteachers don't go into bars by themselves."
>You jest as she frowns again.
>"I was walking past it as someone was rubbing it out on the blackboards outside. I was finding my bearing around the town."
"I noticed it too when I was in there. Just happenstance, maybe it wasn't delivered or something."
>"Hmm. How do I look?"
>She spins round on the spot. The air lifts her royal-blue skirt up slightly, revealing her high-heels.
>You whistle in response.
"You look divine, hon."
>" 'Hon'? What's that?"
 >You smile.
"Your pet name. I think it works; you're as sweet as honey."
>She blushes.
>"Thank you, sweetie."
>You both leave the room and walk down the stairs to put on your coats.
"Whose car are we taking?"
>You ask Trixie.
>"Well, we'll take mine but you drive; I can't drive in these."
>You nod as you grab the keys.
>Leaving the cottage, you lock up and slip the key into a pocket and look at your wristwatch, 6 o'clock.
>Unlocking Trixie's minivan, you climb in and, with a loud screech of the fan-belt, it starts up.
"Ever consider getting a new car?"
>You ask Trixie as you drive through the little street  and onto the main road, out of town.
>"This is reliable enough to cart me around, Anon. And besides, it has character. Not like your behemoth."
>She says as the minivan crunches through the gears on the open road.

>Cruising through the woodlands, you drive past that massive statue, dedicated to the legend of Starswirl the Bearded, and a sign telling you Whitetail welcomes careful drivers.
"Okay, this is what we need to do, Trix."
>You disclose to her as she, again, straightens her hair.
"Can you stop that? You look perfect enough as it is."
>You couldn't see but if you did, you would have seen a slight blush.
>"Alright. What are we doing then, Special Agent?"
"Politeness and courteousness. It's what these arrogant witches want."
>"Some would say that's subservience, Anonymous. Do you think that the Great and Powerful Trixie could ever bow to their wishes?"
>She announced in her superior way.
"You ought to. They're all very condescending and complacent in that Academy. It's... very odd."
>"Have you met your students yet?"
>Trixie asks as you slow down at the turn for the Academy.
"Yeah, they seem like a nice bunch but..."
>"But what?"
>She butts in.
"I dunno... they seem off as well."
>"You're new to them, of course they'd be reserved."
>Trixie acknowledges with you agreeing.
"Yeah, that's true. Here we are, Luna Nova Witchcraft Academy."
>You point to the neo-Gothic building as you circle around it and park up the faculty lot by the side.
>Noting that sports car again, you pull up beside it and kill the ignition.
>You both step out and you grab your coats.
>Being the gentleman, you ease Trixie into hers and put on yours.
>"Thank you, sweetie."
"Think of another one, hon..."
>You whisper as she giggles.
>Walking through the side doors, you meet the Deputy Headmistress wearing her full formal witch's robes, much to your surprise.
>"Mr Cognito, charming to meet you again. And Mrs Lulamoon, yes? We haven't met, I'm Luna Artemis, Deputy Headmistress of the Academy."
>Trixie and Luna shake hands as Trixie says.
>"Yes. Anon has said a lot about you, Ms Artemis."
>"I wouldn't believe a word of it, Mrs Cognito."
>She chuckles as Trixie smiles.
>"Please, call me Trixie. If I can call you Luna?"

>"Of course." Luna agrees as she readjusts her pointed hat, "now, if you care to follow me, I'll take you to the Columbia Hall, where we'll have the feast.
"The feast? I thought it was just a simple meal between staff."
>"Forgive my bluntness but the feast isn't in your honor." Luna explains, "it's in honor of another bountiful harvest we've had."
>"What would you do if the harvest wasn't bountiful?"
>Trixie asks sarcastically with you inwardly groaning.
>"We'd starve."
>Luna condescends as the three of you enter the grand hall.
>The Columbia Hall is an impressive looking room. A tall, elegant hall used for ceremonies and banquets like this.
>Floating candles light the room with others stuck in candlesticks on the long, oak table.
>Sat around are the various teachers, other faculty and some pillars of the local community, you assume.
>At the top of the table is Celestia Solaris, in her own formal robes and hat. And to her sides are three empty seats.
>Luna takes hers and you and Trixie, now without your coats as they are magically taken from you and onto coat racks, take yours.
>Wearing her resplendent golden robes, you nods and smiles to you and Trixie and then stands from her seat. Tapping her wine glass, she clears her throat.
>"Ladies and gentleman, please, can I have your attention? Thank you. I would like to welcome Anonymous Cognito and Trixie Lulamoon to our Academy and to Whitetail. Please, lift your glasses."
>Everyone charges their glasses.
>"To Trixie and Anonymous!"
>She proclaims, everyone repeats and takes a sip of their drinks.
>"Any words?"
>She turns to you and asks.
"If you insist, Ms Solaris."
>You stand and take your glass in hand.
"I'll keep this short because I bet we're all hungry."
>You begin and take a sip of the wine and savor the flavor.
"I am very pleased to be here at one of the most prestigious magic academies in the world as well as living in a very warm and tradition town. Thank you very much for this position and I will continue with the traditions here, despite my obvious gender disadvantage."
>Some chuckle and give you a light applause as you sit back down.
>"Thank you, Anonymous." Celestia cheers, "now, will you all choose your mains? The choice is either a beefsteak, cooked to your preference, or lobster in a termindor butter sauce."
>She takes her wand out and magically picks up a notepad and pencil and pass it around the table.
>When the pad is passed to you and Trixie, you write down for a steak, cooked medium rare. And Trixie chooses the lobster.
>With all the information collected, Celestia passed the paper to a waiter stood by her, who nods and hurriedly shuffles to the kitchen.
>Everyone unfolds their napkins so you take you and tuck it into your shirt collar.
>Trixie nudges you and silently points to your napkin and then points to her lap.
>Hoping your boss didn't notice, you grab it and put it on your lap.
>Celestia takes a hand bell and lightly rings it.
>"Let the Feast begin!"

>It was a fine feast. No-one, not even the town mayor who was so old she could remember the feast of '59, could recall its equal.
>And Luna Nova is famous of its food.
>Each course had a different wine and each place had five glasses. There was a dry blanc to compliment the fish, the academy's finest burgundy with the beefsteaks and some specially-imported dry champagne with the sweet apple tart.
>For the last 90 minutes, everyone in the hall was lost to the world; immersed in an ancient ritual that has spanned the centuries.
>The clatter of knives and forks, the clink of glasses, the rustle of napkins and the shuffling feet of the servants dimmed out the present.
>Outside was the harsh fall weather beating down; the wind sweeping through the woods.
>Inside, all was warmth and conviviality.
>"Truly, an evening to remember." Luna says sebaceously.
>"Indeed, Luna. Indeed." Celestia mutters, eating the last of her apple tart.
>Trixie sips the last of her champagne and says.
>"The tart is exquisite, such a lovely crunch to it. Did you say that the apples are locally sourced?"
>"Hmm-mm." Luna nods as lightly drinks her bucks fizz.
>Celestia takes the wand again and it gives the bell another ring.
>"I think it's time for the port to be served. To settle our stomachs, yes?"
>As she talked, two servants appeared and shuffled around the table, pouring the drinks out.
>"The steak was excellent." The mayor comments, "A fine cut and the peppercorn sauce gave it that extra spice..."
>"Exactly, it was tender and moist enough." The town councillor agrees. "How was the lobster, my dear Celestia?"
>"Delicious. The lobster had a wonderful taste, complimented by the citrus zest." The headmistress says, taking her glass in hand and having a sip of port.
>"Of course, Headmistress." Mrs Cheerilee boasts from the other side of the table, "this has been a very enjoyable evening."
>Celestia smiles and nods.
>"Naturally, Cheerilee." She declears and then leans over to you two and whispers.

>"She loves to brown-nose Luna and myself. Compliments anything we do. She and Harshwhinny were always like that."
>"It got on our wick, their constant boot-licking." Luna chips in, "But now? I kind of miss it from her..."
>You nod appreciatively.
"Yes, her disappearance must be a damn shame, mustn't it?"
>They nod back in agreement.
>"A damn pity. And my poor students as well." Celestia laments on. "Please, while they are preoccupied, we four raise a toast."
>And you, Trix, Luna and Celestia make a toast for them.
>"Well, of course, the police came too, thinking that we had something to do with it all." the Headmistress huffs with Luna nodding, "Not that we had anything to say. After I saw her leave, I left for home and spend the night there. With Luna as well."
>"Celly." Luna murmurs, "he knows."
>"Knows what?"Celestia questions.
>"That we're sisters." Luna whispers again.
>"Oh." She simply says. "No matter, as long as the secret stays with us." She winks and taps her nose.
>You smile and lean over to Trix.
"They're pissed as a newt."
>"Squeeze them like an orange then." She chortles.
>You lean onto the table but before you get the chance, Soarin butts in as he slugs back his glass of port.
>"The deputy headmistress tells me you were at Coldwater, Anonymous."
"Yes, that's right."
>You smile and take a sip of your drink.
>"Is Old Mustang still stinking the place out with sulphur?"
>He laughs with you grinning.
"I can't say I remember him, Soarin."
>"How about Tango Twist? Tanny, the boys used to call him?"
>Soarin inquires as the hall doors open.
"To be honest with you Soarin, I wasn't there long enough to get to know any of the teachers there."
>You answer him as you notice the school porter, hat in hand, walk up to Celestia and whisper in her ear.
>"Of course, I understand. Err, Anonymous? Mr House here needs you."
"What's the problem, my good man?"
>Charter coughs lightly and begins.

>"Mr Cognito, I am sorry to trouble you. Do you have a moment?"
"Yes, of course. If you care to excuse me."
>Celestia nods and sips her port.
>You stand and lean over to Trixie.
"I'll be back as soon as, hon."
>You kiss her cheek and put the glass onto the table.
>She sighs loudly and scratches her cheek.
>As you and Charter walk out of the hall, he explains the situation to you.
>"I'm sorry for interrupting your night, Mr Cognito, but it does concern one of your boarders in Moonshadow, Twilight Sparkle."
"Glasses, purple hair?"
>You ask and he nods.
>"That's her, she's been taken ill. The nurse is with her in her office but she's a little cagey. Perhaps you can talk to her while I assist the bedders in the dormitory. She was ill on it."
"Ah."
>You acknowledge.
"Charter House, isn't it? I don't think we've ever been properly introduced. I'm Anonymous Cognito."
>He nods and smiles.
>"How are you and your wife finding it here at Luna Nova? Has she told you of our alteration?"
>You smile as you follow him around the dark hallways.
"Yes, she was annoyed at first but calmed down and sees the funny side of things. I think she would be a lot better if she had something to do."
>Charter scratches his chin in thought.
"I don't think anything around here will do. Does the nurse need another spare pair of hands?"
>"I think she does. I'll have a word with her tomorrow. She'll be in this office here."
>He knocks on the door.
>And a woman in casual jeans and a t-shirt answers.
>With a winning smile, she lets you in and waves to Charter as he leaves.
>"I'm Nurse Redheart. And you must be the new House Master, Mr. Cognito. Charter speaks highly of you."
>She smiles again.
"That's saying something. We've barely met."

>She chuckles as she walks over to her desk and grabs some papers. It's a long room with some beds along one wall and a desk, several  cabinets and cupboards along the other.
>"I think it's food posioning, nothing serious, but I thought you needed to be informed."
"Thanks for that."
>Twilight sits upright in the bed and coughs heavily. She then spits some phlegm into a nearby bedpan.
>"I'm alright really, there's not need to panic, Ms Redheart. It's just an upset stomach."
>"Nuh-uh." She crossly says while waggling her finger, "you're in here over night, young miss. I want to make sure you're fit and healthy before you go back."
>Twilight just grumbles as you walk over to her. She does look a little down-trodden about it all.
>"I didn't mean to cause such a fuss, sir. I am sorry, sir."
"It's alright, really. These things happen."
>You lightly smile as she shuffles in the bed.
>"Actually, there is something you can do for me, if you can of course. I don't mean to impose on you, sir."
>She requests as she blushes.
>"I have a... err... oh gosh, this is embarrassing to say..."
>She blushes as she fiddles with the bed sheets.
"It's nothing to worry about, both Redheart and myself would try to make the night here as comfy as possible."
>You reassure her with the nurse nodding as she readjusts her bun.
>"I sleep with a stuffed toy. It's childish, I know, but Smarty Pants helps me sleep easier. And a poetry book Mrs Harshwhinny lent me. She always said I could borrow her books."
"Did you like Mrs Harshwhinny, then? If you borrowed her books, I mean..."
>You ask and she smiles and nods.
>"Very much, sir. She wasn't like the others teachers, really."
"Oh? How so?"
>"She was kind to me and the others. She went easy on us when other teachers would lay into us."
>Twilight laments on as Redheart takes a thermometer and pops it into her mouth.

>"Yes, it's a real pity about Winnie. Sure, she had her bad side but she always look after her students."
>She takes it back out and says to Twilight.
 >"Temp's starting to drop. That's good. Go on now, get some sleep."
>She quietly nods and lays down in the bed.
>You walk with the nurse to her desk on the other side of the room, just out of earshot of the young student.
"Seems like a nice girl, Twilight."
>She writes down some notes, then faces you and sighs. She rubs her face with her hands and pops the pen back into her hairbun.
>"She is troubled, though. Most boarders are, living so far away from their parents but I think she takes it worse than the others.
>You nod and comment.
"It's difficult for any child I suppose. Taken from their loving embrace to somewhere strange and alien."
>Nurse Redheart moves a little closer and speaks a little quieter.
>"I think she gets bullied by some of the other girls. She's not sporty, something of a teacher's pet."
"Oh dear."
>You simply say.
>"Winnie protected her so far as he could but..."
>She doesn't finish her sentence, simply ending it with a Gaelic shoulder shrug.
"Why would Mrs Harshwhinny protect Twilight from the other girls?"
>You speculate on and get another shrug for an answer.
>"I wouldn't know." She vaguely says, "but she did. If there's anything else, Mr Cognito?"
"I'll be back as soon as with her things."
>She gives you a warm but tired smile as you leave the office and walk to the side doors.
>Before you get to think about what the nurse was saying, you hear some suspicious noises from the top of the stairs. Some scrapping noises and a shutting door.
>Right where your classroom is.
>Footsteps stomp on the floor above you as you think.
>'What's all this then? Is it that porter fella? It can't be though, he said he's going back to the dorms.'
>You quickly choose to investigate and quietly walk up the stairs.

>It's a little spooky to be honest; the only light are the pathetically ancient filiment bulbs lining the ceiling.
>The wind and rain lash onto the windows, making an awful scratching sound as you ascend the stairs to your classroom.
>'I'm sure I heard my door opening and closing.'
>You look down the corridor and see no-one or even anything. Just the wind howling and the faint buzz of the bulbs overhead.
>You creep to the classroom door and gently open it.
>You look into a dark and empty room. You glance around and behind you to make sure no-one is about and step in.
>You instantly sense something is wrong. Your eyes dart around the room.
>'Something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong. My desk. Has someone been rummaging through it?'
>You look at your desk; one of the draws was partially open with something stuffed into it.
>You don't open the draw. You take a steel ruler from your desk, jam it into the handle and open it that way.
>You use the ruler to pick up what appears to be a stained cloth.
>Lifting it up to its full length, it isn't a cloth.
>It's a shirt. Or a blouse, maybe.
>And the stains are a rusty maroon.
>Sweet zombie Jesus...
>That's blood. And they are stab wounds...

-- Part Four – A Question of Blood --

“GET ME AGENT COFFEE KLATCH OUT IN TROTTINGHAM, DELAMARE!”
>You shout to the secretary. She diligently nods and walks out the room.
>You sit back down and leaf through the paperwork on your desk.
>After some reorganization in the correct draws, the phone buzzes.
>Picking up the receiver, you bellow into it.
“Hello.”
>“Hello? Is that you Ace?”
“Coffee, I’m calling you from Seaddle, Keystone! It’s Regional Bureau Chief, Ace Thruster!”
>“Okay, Ace.”
“SEADDLE!”
>You shout again. Damn, why don’t people listen?
“I was told you have some interesting evidence for me. I need something good, Coffee. The boys upstairs are demanding results.”
>“Really? We’ve only just started!”
>He asks surprisingly.
“That’s exactly what I said. Anyway, what is it?”
>“Anonymous found it at the school. A woman’s blouse with stab markings through it.”
>You whistle down the phone.
“I knew those witches were up to something. Where was it?”
>Coffee coughs and answers.
>“It was stuffed into one of Anonymous’ desk draws. He got a state trooper to take it to us in the early hours and we got the forensics boys to look at it…”
“So what are forensics saying then? Give me something solid, dammit!”
>You thump the desk for emphasis but Klatch sounds dismayed.
>“Sorry, sir! I can’t. Too degraded for DNA testing and the type is A-positive.”
>You harrumph.
“A-positive, you say? Crap, same for what? 30% of the population. Well, it was a long-shot, I suppose.”
>“But there is something else. It might be a promising lead with the girls. A suspicious white pick-up was spotted a few times on the roads around the woods and on the state road that runs the back of them on the night of the attacks.”
“Hmmm…”
>’It could be something. A pick-up wouldn’t stick out in those neck of the woods.”
“Right, get Canterlot PD to handle that truck. Sounds like nothing but it keeps them busy, doesn’t it?”
>“And we concentrate on the blouse? Sounds like they’re getting prime cuts and we’re getting the bones…”

>Coffee bemoans and waffles on but you’ll have none of it!
“Nonsense, Coffee! The Bureau is always busy with other vital cases. Besides, the blouse has to be important! How many stab marks are there?”
>“Over twenty, they say.”
“Twenty, you say? Murdered, then.”
>A slight pause then Coffee utters.
>“Certainly looks that way. If it’s Harshwhinny’s blouse.” 
“Get anywhere with the husband?”
>You ask.
>“Not exactly, sir.” Coffee grumbles, “He’s a wimpish type; probably cries when he slices into his loaf of bread.”
>You snort.
>“He’s also quite the drinker. He says once she left the bar, he had more drinks and watched the football; Mustangs vs. Vikings. The Mustangs lost, he says.”
>You frown at that.
“Anyone can quote football results. Did anyone see him there?”
>“The police checked. Some people did.”
“Double-check it. Break his alibi in two...”
>“Or make it cast-iron. I know, you say.”
“Or make it cast-iron, Klatch! That’s what I say!”
>You say, jotting down the notes.
“I will be coming down later on. I need to see Top Brass for some other inquires.”
>“I understand, sir. I’ll see you then. Good-bye.”
“Just one more thing, Klatch!”
>You hear a sigh breath down the phone.
>“Yes, sir?”
“That blouse, is there a maker’s tag in the collar?”
>“Yeah, there is. ‘Carousel Boutique’. It’s a clothes store in Canterlot, apparently.”
“Trace the owner of it that way. Maybe it’s just an unfortunate shaving accident and they mistook Anon’s desk for the bin.”
>“It did cross my mind, sir. I’ll check it out later on. Is there anything else?”
“You must check it out though. I can’t think of anything else so I’ll meet you at the private Canterlot airport at lunchtime, okay?”
>“Yes, sir. I’ll see you there then. Good-bye, Ace.”
“Goodbye.”
>Putting the phone down, your gears start turning.
>‘The blouse must belong to the missing teacher. And it’s in Anon’s desk for a reason. To spook him? To get him to stay quiet? Dead men tell no tales. What have I got Anon mixed up in?’

>Placing the hand-set back down, you try to clarify what clues you have right now.
>The husband, Plimsolls. Are these witnesses creditable enough to vouch for him? After all, it’s a busy bar.
>Those letters. A half-way decent attorney will destroy those in two seconds flat. That love letter and the divorce proceedings are motive enough but it’ll cast enough doubt on her character.
>Besides, it’s admissible in court.
>Agent Lorenz’s mysterious blouse. Is it actually Harshwhinny’s? If not, then it’s some gruesome prank and if it is, then where’s the rest of the clothes? And the rest of her?
>This mysterious pick-up truck. Just because it’s suspicious doesn’t mean it’s implicated in the crime or crimes.
>‘Gotta go over the crime scene again. See if there anything we missed…’
>“Agent Klatch? This just e-mailed through. Preliminary report from forensics about that shirt.”
“Hmm?”
>You’re Special Agent Coffee Klatch and you snap out of your daydream.
>“Report, sir. You told me to tell you when it comes in.”
“You’re right, I did. Thanks.”
>You take the paper from him and tell him to find out where that clothes shop is.
>As the junior agent walks off, you read the sheet of paper.
>It’s as you suspected.
>Blood: too degraded for DNA but further testing prove the type is A-positive.
>Material: not store-bought but tailor-made. Cloth is of a rich quality but nothing special, available at any fabric roll wholesalers.
>Blouse tags: maker’s marks. Made and bought at this ‘Carousel Boutique’.
>Blah, blah, blah. It’s things you were told earlier. But starts to get interesting.
>Dirt: Stains on the blouse are soil and grime and run up the left-hand side, as if the blouse has been pushed into the ground. Animal excrement is also present on the blouse, further tests needed.
>Plants: In the soil are remains of leaves and tree bark, further tests needed. Also, present are seeds, further tests needed.
>Fingerprints: Nothing usable.
>So, they were in the woods and then stuffed into the desk. So, who found them and moved them?
“Any news on that store, Agent?”
>“Yeah, I found it. On the intersection of 9th and Carriage Boulevard, opposite Horseshoe Park.”
>He answers so you grab your overcoat and rip off the note.
>“Sir?” Another agent says, “phone for you. It’s Anonymous”
>You rush back to your desk and pick up the phone.
“Anonymous, are you okay?”
>His voice comes through the hand-set.
>“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay though?”
>You internally sigh in relief.
“I’m good, I’m good. You got anything for us? It must be important if you’re calling us.”
>He coughs into the phone and you hear him put something into his mouth and something twinkling.
>“That blouse, you see. It might not be as important as I thought it was. You see, when Harshwhinny taught, she had some of the girls pick up and drop off things at the cottage. Stuff from papers to dry cleaning.”
“So? Doesn’t mean anything.”
>“Really? Stuff taken from the cottage and repurposed at the school? They’re doing a school play of Julius Caesar and they said old clothes are repurposed as costumes and props. They’re just trying to scare me.”
“It doesn’t explain the mud and shit smothered all over it.”
>You stare at the ceiling as Anonymous makes an odd noise.
>“Eh?”
“Yeah, it’s like someone’s dragged through the forest. How come you never noticed it?”
>“It was dark and I never got a good chance to look at it. Can’t say why it’s like that. But there’s something else. There’s a fella the Bureau’s been trying to get for ages, a stockbroker who’s pulled some nasty deals. Name’s Comet Trails.”
>You lean onto the desk, mildly interested.
“So?”
>“Never knew he had magic kids because he has one here. Starlight Glimmer.”
>You ask, confused.
“What actually are you getting at?”
>He sighs, irritated.


>You loudly groan and put the cigarette out in the desk’s ashtray.
“It might be why the Bureau has taken such an interest. If Trails’ daughter is at the school, who knows who else is here.”
>You sense the office door opening and someone entering the room. 
>“Ace would have mentioned it if that was the case. Must be happenstance, surely. His little witch has got to go somewhere.”
“Well, if her condition worsens, then please give me or my wife a call. Thank you, doctor.”
>You hang up, spin around and see Miss Inkwell stood in the doorway.
>You inwardly sigh as she speaks.
>“The office telephone is for school business, not personal matters, Mr Cognito.”
>You’re Anonymous Cognito and you smile sheepishly.
“I am sorry. I just couldn’t find a telephone and my cell phone’s flat.”
>Her face is blank, difficult to read.
>“But I suppose it it’s urgent. Can I ask what it concerns?”
“My mother-in-law has angina, you see. Before Trixie left, she had a heart attack and she’s still in hospital.”
>Which isn’t a total lie, you know Trixie’s mom and she does have a heart condition. Poor woman, really.
*BRING!*
>She purses her thin lips a little and instructs.
>“First bell, Mr Cognito. You’d best be getting to your class.”
>You smile again as you glance your watch.
“Ah, yes.”
>She stands out of your way as you stride out of the office.
>“There’s a pay-phone in the main foyer and in your dormitory, if I remember. For next time.”
>She pleasantly says, closing the door.
>You quickly jog over to your classroom, luckily on the same floor as the main offices.
>Anyway, you see a small group of students stood around, checking their wands for damage or making last-minute adjustments to their homework.
"Come in, come in. Make yourselves comfortable."
>You open up and confidently stride into the classroom.
>'Be the teacher they deserve. Not the one they need right now because it's too early for your shit.'

>Second bell rings and more students start filling in, you take your seat at the desk and pull out the ancient register book.
>They all take the seats and the last one closes the door.
>Pulling out your wand and pen, you crack your knuckles and levitate the pen to sign the book.
>‘It’s a waste of time but it’s entertaining.’
“Right, we’ll start the lesson. Anyone else coming in will be late.”
>Opening the book, you see some names crossed out. Sugar Coat, Lemon Zest. And Sunny Flare…
“Right, I’ll start the rollcall. Apple.”
>‘Jackeline Apple. Weird name.’
>“Yah, here, sir.” A country voice says.
‘Belle.’
>“Here, sir.” A smooth accent calls out.
“Coat.”
>“In hospital, sir.” One witch says.
>“Accident, sir.” A second says.
>“Or was it, sir?” A third implies.
“Quiet, please. Blaze.”
>’Yo.’
>You look up and see that girl with the purple and mint-green pig-tails with her arm up and rocking on a chair. You raise your eyebrow at her as you two lock eyes.
>She leans forwards and says “here, sir.”
>Looking back down, you continue.
“Dash.”
>“Y… Here, sir.” A voice stammers.
>“You mean ‘Boomer’, sir. It’s what Mrs Harshwhinny used to call her, sir.” One starts.
>“After the broomstick manoeuvre, sir.” A second continues.
>“It’s a joke, sir.” A third finishes.
“I will stick with your names, if it’s no trouble. Dazzle.”
>“Here.” A very bored person says.
“Dusk.”
>”Ooo! I’m here!” A cheerful person bellows.
>A few sniggers around the room.
“Quiet. Flare.”
>“She’s not here, sir.” That country voice states.
“Where is she?”
>“Expelled, sir.”
>“Cast out, sir.”
>“Banished, sir.”
>“Black-balled, sir.”
>“Consigned to outer-darkness, sir.”
>A chorus of students call out, one by one.
“I see, I see now. Pie”
>“OOO! SIR! SIR! HERE, SIR!” A bubbly student shouts out.
“Quiet, please! Shimmer.”
>“Here.” Another smooth voice says.
“Shy.”
>“… here…” Someone squeaks out.
“Sparkle.”
>“Here, sir.” A student says sharply.
“Sweets.”
>“Here, sir.”
“Zest.”
>“Dead, sir.” One witch says.
>“Another accident, sir.” A second says.
>“Or was it, sir?” A third implies.

“Dead? How?”
>But your class remains quiet. Slightly unnerved, you say the last name.
“And Zap.”
>“… yeah, here.” The last person says.
“Right then.”
>You finish off, closing register book and putting it away in the draw.
>Taking the book off your desk, you instruct.
“Take out your ‘Merrythoughts’ Fight Against Gnomes, Dwarfs and Imps’ book. Chapter 3, lines 225 to 230.”
>You stand and take a piece of chalk and write on the board, ‘To cure imp bites.’
>A symphony of creaking desk tops and thumping hard-back books rings around the room.
“The first thing to do with an imp bite is what?”
>Some hands shoot up.
“Err… yes, you at the back. Rarity, is it?”
>She smiles and brushes some loose hairs back.
>“To clean the wound, sir.”
“Exactly!”
>You praise the young student. You spin around to the blackboard and start writing.
“It goes for any bite wound, to clean it out. Then what spell do we use?”
>Another shower of raised hands. So, you deliberately choose Pig-Tails.
“You! In the middle, with the pig-tails.”
>“Me? Err…”
>She strains under the thought.
>“Devine Jet… of Cotton?”
“You’re not wrong, Pig-Tails. That’s used for serious injuries but for simple marks, you’d use the Healing Rites. Now, these lines are the correct rites to use on imp bites, considering the venom they have. Read the rites then we might do some dummy runs.”
>You sit back down as her friends throw paper balls at Pig-Tails.
>You read the book and in the ensuing silence, you look around the room. And sure enough, the students are quietly reading.
>Someone clears their throat and Rainbow Dash asks.
>“Is there any news, sir?”
“News?”
>You cajole from Rainbow .
>“About Mrs Harshwhinny, sir.” She says.

>“The police came, you know sir.” Sunset states.
>“Talked to all of us, sir.” Rarity interjects.
>“But they couldn’t find her, sir.” Jackeline smoothly says.
>“And now, they’re dead, sir.” Adagio adds.
“Who are dead?”
>You simply wonder on.
>“The police officers, sir.” Pinkie answers.
>”It was a car crash, you know.” Aria backs up.
>“It was in the newspapers, sir.” Twilight discloses, without looking up.
“Yes, so I hear.”
>You address them.
>“It was bad luck, wasn’t it, sir?” Sunset questions.
>“Burning to death in a car, sir!” Sonata boasts, rather oddly. Like combustion was some sort of prize.
>”What a way to go, sir.” Rainbow says.
>“The papers say it was an accident, sir.” Twilight insists.
>“But was it an accident, sir?” Rarity queries.
>Your eyes dart around the room, following each statement from each girl like a strange game of Whack-A-Mole.
“Well… there’s no reason to believe otherwise.”
>“Do you think Mrs Harshwhinny had an accident too, sir?” Rainbow inquires as she leans forwards.
>So you answer vaguely and lean back into the chair.
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
>You ask, throwing the ball into their court. But you’re greeted by silence.
“Well, you liked her, did you?”
>“Liked her, sir?” Adagio challenges.
>“She was our teacher, sir.” Aria says.
>“We liked her husband. He’s a painter, ya know, sir.” Jackeline adds.
>“She was married, sir.” Rainbow states.
“Yes, I know.”
>You interrupt, hoping to get a grasp on the conversation again but it slips as Pinkie asks another question.
>“Are you married, sir?”
>Accusing eyes glare at you.
>Do they know?
>Can they hear you?
>The pause lingers on for several heartbeats and eventfully, they go back to reading the books.
>Feeling completely rattled, you continue the independent learning session in silence.

(Writing in progress. Update? Whenever I'll feel like it...)