Chapter 11: Thief-For-Hire

(Z: This chapter has a  bit of a longwinded explanation problem. Sorry. I promise it'll be more interesting next time.)

A filly is born in the middle of the night, and Altin names her Magnolia. He found himself regretting the delicate choice when she chases him out of the barn, having inherited her momma's aggressiveness.

(Z: Now who's got freakishly goodlooking babies, Klevkin?)

Elsie's birthday party was later that evening, but Altin and Spot had time for a lengthy ride first, and he took advantage of that chance to go exploring the areas of Grey Meadow he hadn't yet seen. Spot became more and more nervous as the day wore on, but he dismissed it as unease about being away from her foal until she bolted -- with him on her back, again -- and ran not towards home, but the farthest limits of the city. 

She came to a stop at an unlikely place: a lonely, dead field on an unihabited island just offshore.

He shifted in the saddle, not at all sure they were supposed to be there, but Spot was insistent.

She led him all the way to the back of the field, picking her way around brambles and thorny bushes, until she stopped in front of a massive statue of a mythical equine figure, clearly waiting for him to dismount.

"I guess there's no point arguing with you, is there?"

Spot didn't answer. He assumed that meant no.

The sculpture was impressive. Taller than a grown Sim, it alone was free from signs of age and decay, despite appearing to be the centerpoint to the dried foliage around it. Up close Altin noticed it was incomplete, with an empty display in front of it designed to hold an object the size of his hand, but he could see no visible signs of what that object was.

/You know what it is./ A voice sounded from everywhere and nowhere, somehow inside his head. /That is the rightful resting place of what your people call the Celestial Pink Diamond./

Altin turned at the sound of a crackling bramble behind him and came face to face with what could only be the speaker.

Even so, he hesitated. 

"Ah...you do know horses can't...talk, don't you?" He laughed awkwardly. "You're not talking. I'm cracking up, right? Right?"

The creature -- the Unicorn -- snorted in disgust. /My kind are some of the most magical creatures in the mortal and magical realms combined. There are those who worship us as gods. I am not a horse./

It stopped in front of him. 

/You may, however, be "cracking up." That is indeed a possibility./

"Oh, I see," Altin muttered. "You're the reassuring kind of delusion."

/I did not come here to reassure, I came to solicit your help, jewel-thief. Do you see this place?/ It didn't wait for a response. /This was once one of the most beautiful places in the mortal realm. The wall between our realms is thinnest here, and the land around it flourished with the magic that bled through./

"Uh huh. Mortal realm. Magical boundaries. Got it. Makes perfect sense." The Unicorn gave him a look -- equine faces can do that? -- and he shut up quickly.

/But then the Diamond was taken,/ it continued. /Without the magic contained within it, the land withered and died, and the path back to the magical realm was locked to those beings on the wrong side of the boundaries at the time. Among Unicorns, I was the only one who frequented this place, and I found my way home impossible to cross. And so I am trapped, thanks to mortal thieves./

Altin blinked. "Hey, wait a minute, I didn't do that! When I stole--" He stopped and looked around nervously, then continued at a near whisper. "When I got ahold of the Diamond, it belonged to this rich old writer who used it as a paperweight in his office. I've never been here before in my life!"

The Unicorn "yelled" in frustration. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

/You aren't paying attention! The Diamond has been a legendary source of power since I first placed it here after crossing into this world. By your measurement of time, that was seven hundred years ago!/

"Oh."

/Yes. "Oh." Unicorns are immortal, and only mortal things can exist in the mortal realm. No matter how longliving they are, everything must in time be capable of death. To enter this world an immortal being must temporarily part from themselves that pure magical energy which gives them eternal life, and with it their powers, for as long as they remain here. Essentially, that Diamond contains my soul./ It lowered its head to look Altin in the eye. /And you are going to retrieve it for me./

"So wait, the Diamond grants immortality? Do you have to say the magic words or something, because I had it for a while, and I don't feel immortal..."

/It does not. You are mortal, and while there are ways to extend your lifetime and defy age, you will always be, in the end, capable of death. The value of the Diamond to a mortal is in the return of it. With or without the gem, I am trapped here, because whomever returns it binds me to them and their wellbeing. That is why it was stolen, and stolen from the original thief, and stolen again from that thief. You are all fighting with each other to be the one who places me in your debt. And if I must be enslaved to mortal blood, I will at least choose who it is./

"Oh, hey, you're talking about me? Me? Why? I'm just another thief."

/You are uniquely qualified. You possess a good heart...perhaps not the best, but a good one. And despite your nature, you belong to the underbelly of society, the very beings who stole my magic away to begin with. You understand evil and cruelty without being affected by it./

The Unicorn stepped back, having said what it came to say. 

/Find me that gem, jewel-thief, and you will have your payment. But fail and we will both be miserable for longer than either of us care to be./

Altin had been left with plenty to think about, but for now, he had a birthday party to attend back home.

Dawwh, baby horses are cute. And reassuringly non-magical.

The Snickerson-Ripley family celebrated Elsie's birthday by themselves. The only residents they were close to were mafia lords and Kylee, the babysitter, whose parents had refused to allow her to stay out late this night.

Elsie didn't mind. She knew it was cake time.

But she was still a toddler for now, so Altin helped blow out the candles on the cake. 

Yaaaay, time for cake!

But first...hey, that tickles.

Tada!

Altin's cake-related impatience is unimpressed. Elsie knew just how to fix that.

Much better.

(Z: Artistic, Good, and Athletic. Faves are pink/kids music/parfait.)

Her father abandons his desperate attempt to cook something with whatever random products he grabbed from the fridge when Elsie points out that it is, in fact, cake time.

"Hey Dad, can I have a car for my birthday?"

"That depends, can I have a boatload of cash for my birthday?"

"I don't think so..."

"Then no."

--

Woohoo, age up!