Super Secret Cider Squeezy 6000

by nucnik

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Nightmare Moon, Adventure
Length: 53029

Or how the fascination with one machine led an Equestrian Specialist on a dangerous journey.

An Equestrian Specialist comes across a strange machine, unlike anything he'd ever seen. The short encounter leaves him amazed and anxious to learn more, but his quest sets in motion events he could never have foreseen. The dream of becoming a Royal Guard, once so close to fruition, slowly evaporates as he sees Equestria in an entirely new light.

Published 2013-10-06 22:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-04 10:40:46 UTC

A Short Introduction

The Royal Guards have always held the ultimate authority over Equestria for as long as they have existed and given that they were there when Celestia banished Luna to the Moon, they have been around for quite a while. It’s only natural that their courage and fortitude are shown in schools as examples of how a stallion should be, much in the same way that the princesses’ kindness and love are the desired traits of every mare. Small wonder than that just about every colt wants to grow up to be a Royal Guard and every filly a Princess. At least one of those is realistic.

Of course, the phase of blind admiration and fantasies of fame and glory that come with such a position only lasts for so long before a new desire replaces it. Suddenly the Firefighters are more interesting, wrestling with the blazes of an inferno and coming out covered in ashes with a relieved victim on their backs. Or perhaps Medical Ponies, or even Mailponies, as they get to travel a lot and have many adventures with angry dogs and the like. Some even fantasized about going to the Moon to do battle with Nightmare Moon, although quite how they were supposed to achieve that was beyond anypony, even themselves. I’m sure some from the never generations were very disappointed when she actually returned, but in any case there sure are a lot of possibilities for a young colt, at least in his mind.

I never really got past the whole Royal Guard phase. Oh, I had many ideas before about how my life would turn out, from the very obvious to the impossible, and the fact that I would grow up as the strongest, handsomest and most clever pony who ever lived was of course a given, as it was for everypony else at the time. Then we discovered the Royal Guards and it quickly became an obsession I couldn’t shake, not that I tried all that hard in the first place. When others were already past that, I was busy perfecting the armor I had crafted from cardboard and some string.

My parents thought it was a coltish thing to do, so I had all the freedom in Equestria to let my mind wander, as long as school didn’t suffer, but after some time even they began to realize how fixated I was on it. For a short while they tried steering me into a different direction, to no avail. They soon accepted that in a household of brainiacs, I would stand out, which was a blessing in itself, as they asked me if I wanted to leave the regular school for the Junior Academy. You probably know the answer to that.

Years passed like days as I stood side by side with other colts who shared my dream and the countless tests and contests went by until only a few dozen of us remained by the time we entered the Senior Academy as stallions. There, our future in a golden armor was almost secured as we were made Equestrian Specialists. The name of that rank was and is a joke, by the way. A more accurate description might be an apprentice to an outgoing guard, since the guards’ time in service in limited by his age and fitness. Once the Captain of the Guards sees one of his subordinates getting past his prime, he assigns him one of the new recruits from the Senior Academy. So it was with me.

One of the perks of being an apprentice – I mean Specialist - is that you are given assignments all over the Royal Castle, Canterlot and, if you’re as eager as I was, even to other towns all over Equestria. On those trips I got to know some strange ponies that influenced my life in ways I never imagined and, most importantly, made observations that lead me on a path to exploration that got me where I am today. And to think that it all really started with nothing more than a random encounter.

Chapter 1 - The Mystery Machine of Ponyville

I found myself in Ponyville while on a well-deserved break from the never-ending chores that befell every young apprentice to the Royal Guard. The kinds of tasks that are beneath the Guards but just important enough to require somepony from within to do, such as acting as a messenger from one platoon to the next, only instead of actual orders the messages would usually be about whatever upcoming contest they were having, making sure the training equipment was clean and in functioning order, jointly cleaning the dorm and the list goes on and on. After that, there was still the usual training and studying, which made any relief from it well and truly welcome.

Ponyville seemed like a good choice – a calm small town in which I could rest my hooves until I the time came to return to Canterlot. Princess Celestia’s much talked about student may have lived here, but the town wasn’t exactly advertising that. If anything, the ponies here were more than happy to avoid putting themselves on the map, so to say. And it worked. It felt good to be there after the chaos of the larger cities that were my usual destinations. The peace and friendliness of this little town were just what I needed to switch my brain off and let my mind wander, but this day that wouldn’t last more than a few minutes.

As sunlight slowly crept to the flowers on the window ledge before slipping past the half drawn curtains and into my eyes, my dreams shattered in an orange-red color of the light going through my eyelids. Ah, morning. Unlike the previous mornings I didn’t experience any confusion as I opened my eyes and saw the colorful walls of my temporary residence, although the stark contrast between this and my usual place of rest for the last few years was still enough to make me feel a bit queasy.

As soon as I got out of bed, it was time to follow standard protocol, even if I wasn’t technically on duty. I half-limped to the bathroom to do the morning business and make sure I was looking my best before I would normally have to put on my uniform, but once again I made like a local and left any pieces of clothing behind. One more thing a pony didn’t have to worry too much about in Ponyville. The stairs led me into the Quills and Sofas shop.

“Good morning,…” I looked around to search for my host, but the whole shop was empty.

Figuring he was away on a mission to restock his supply of quills or sofas my first thought was that I had better stay put so that nopony gets any ideas about taking something from the store. The timing wasn’t perfect as the growls in my stomach grew with every minute and I hated taking things from other ponies' pantries. Then again, Davenport did say to go ahead and take whatever I want if I get hungry, but I decided to wait for a few more minutes before taking him up on that offer. It still felt wrong. Instead, I walked aimlessly around his little shop, wondering how many sofas and quills a pony can even sell in Ponyville. Or did he have plenty of outside customers? Not to mention I didn’t even understand why somepony would open a shop that sells these two items, but to each his own.

Framed pictures were hung on the walls over the sofas. Some of them were the average scenery shots you could see in just about every home furnishing shop and travel agency, while others were photographs of the surrounding areas of Ponyville. One of them felt really out of place, though. It was a picture of an inside of a cave, walls partially blackened by fire, some gems scattered on the ground and what looked like red dragon scales lying about. By itself it was a very artistic picture, but having it prominently displayed in a shop probably did not inspire confidence from sofa-buyers. Quill buyers on the other hoof could probably get some plot ideas out of it.

There were other pictures that didn’t quite fit with the ambient of the shop as well. One was a field of strange flowers from what I assumed to be the Everfree Forest. If the plants didn’t give it away, the hostile-looking trees did. It was strange how one of the first things I learned when I arrived here for the first time a few years ago was the existence of a haunted forest. Or at least that was what a pink pony by the name of Pinkie Pie told me, right before she started dancing and singing, happy that somepony new had arrived in town. At the time I thought that was creepy. I still do. Another picture was about…

Food.

I was really getting hungry now. Manners be damned, I had to find something to munch on. In the kitchen I made myself a simple sandwich, making sure to take only the things my host had in abundance. I was paying him for rent while I was here, but the food was his generosity and I wasn’t going to exploit that. Nearly an hour had passed since I awoke and while my stomach was growing full, so too was my curiosity as to where my host was. If he was indeed on a business trip, he could be gone all day and surely he wouldn’t expect me to sit by guarding his shop all this time. On the other hoof, if he was in town, I would probably run into him.

These scenarios reminded me that I had forgotten to check one simple detail: was the door even locked? I knew the residents of small towns like this tended to leave their door unlocked, something that was unimaginable in Canterlot. I tried the door and confirmed my theory, as they opened without hesitation.

OK, let’s find Davenport.

I stepped out onto the streets of Ponyville and immediately felt something was very wrong. The usually busy streets were deserted, the chatter of ponies gone. Walking around on the main road, I saw stores and houses all around me without a hint of life and the carts at the market covered under sheets. The thought that I was dreaming all of this manifested multiple times, but the fresh taste of food in my mouth and the Sun heating up my powder-blue coat and navy-blue mane said otherwise. Sunny days like this would usually help me appreciate having light streaks in my mane that deflected at least some sunlight instead of just making it look shinier, but not this day. The more I walked, the more strange I felt.

I hope this isn't an ambush.

As my brain was already forming a survival strategy for that silly scenario I saw a colorful couple in the distance, slowly strolling near the giant tree in the middle of Ponyville. Running toward them, it didn’t take too long to register the distinctive appearance of the Cake couple.

Now that I think about it, they were among the very few ponies I even knew there apart from Davenport, who rented me the small room above his shop and Pinkie Pie, who was thankfully too busy the previous day to notice me and was among the many who disappeared this day and Mayor Mare, but that was official business. The only reason I even knew the Cakes on the other hoof was my soft spot for treats. In every town and city I visited, a bakery was usually my first stop after settling in, and Ponyville was no different, although I had a hard time ranking their shop in comparison to others’. The Sweetshop Boutique in Vanhoover was probably still my favorite, but now was not the time for that.

“Good morning!” I said loudly with as normal of a voice as I could. I really didn’t want them to notice my anxiety over the deserted town. “I didn’t know Ponyville could turn into a ghost town,” I added with a curious smile, waiting for them to answer the question I never posed.

“Well good morning to ya’!” replied Mrs. Cake before carefully adding, “Didn’t anypony tell you about today?” Even before I could say anything back, Mr. Cake intervened, “It’s the start of the cider season. You better get your flank over to Sweet Apple Acres if you want a taste of the first batch!”

Cider made everypony in town vanquish?

My mind was still asleep. Well, I did come to Ponyville to relax and do some sightseeing and this was most certainly an event I wouldn’t want to miss if it was so important.

“Then I better get over there. Thank you, have a nice day!” In my rush to leave I almost forgot one little detail, “Just one more thing, where is Sweet Apple Acres?”

Armed with directions I left the Cakes and made my way to the event of the day, wondering the whole way how much trust the ponies living here must have in others to leave their houses unprotected. For a moment I imagined the Cakes wielding weapons in defense of numerous assaulting thieves like ninjas.

First an ambush, now ninjas. I need to wake up.

I was already nearing Sweet Apple Acres as I was imagining the colorful fight that would result from such a situation. It wasn’t very difficult to find at all, although I nearly stepped into my own jaw as I snapped back to reality amidst the apple trees and saw the line of ponies snaking far into the orchard. That really was the entire town! Good thing cider wasn’t my favorite drink to begin with, as I clearly wasn’t going to get any unless I waited until nightfall.

Instead of waiting in line for something I didn’t really want I politely squeezed myself past the crowd to get a better view of the whole mess. Some ponies reacted with sharp gestures and muttered words, thinking that I was cutting in line. A large group of ponies, some even flying in excitement, were assembled at the end of it. Not seeing any other option I really would be cutting in line this time, to see what was happening. As I passed wide-eyed ponies with little trouble, I saw what held their attention. If my jaw nearly tripped me when I saw the line, it might as well have detached at this point.

A machine that looked like a cross between a locomotive, a chariot and some parts I couldn’t recognize was parked at the side of the road, letting out strange noises as clouds of smoke emanated from it, accompanied by small lightning bolts. A group of ponies, two of them probably twins, were arguing over something, but I didn’t hear what they were saying, my attention instead directed towards the contraption.

What is this? I wondered. There is nothing like it in Canterlot or anywhere else I’ve ever been.

Before I even had a chance to get closer, the two brothers jumped into their machine and left with haste. As the excited crowd of ponies dispersed I made my way to the family that was arguing with the brothers. Still ecstatic about what I’d seen, I clumsily burst out with, “Hello! Have you ever seen anything like that before?” Diplomacy was never my strong suite. Huffy stares greeted me back. Before I had a chance to correct myself, an orange mare retorted.

“No Ah haven’t. And after t’morrow we won’t see ‘em again!”

“Now Applejack,” intervened an elderly green pony with a white mane, “No need to take yer anger out on… I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before, mister?”

“Neigh. Swifty Neigh.”

“Well mister Neigh, I reckon you must be new in town, so you’re joining us for lunch!” The older one continued, much to my surprise and went right ahead with the introductions. “I’m Granny Smith, and these ‘ere are Applejack, Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom.”

I tried being polite and attempted to turn down the offer, all the while knowing full well the matter had already been decided. There was no point in resisting further and at least Davenports’ pantry would be safe for lunch. As I thought about that, completely forgetting that I could have bought something to eat in town, I suddenly remembered that I still hadn’t seen him.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” I replied, hoping to lose some of the bad impression I must have left.

After I was given more detailed direction on how to get to the farm itself and at what time to be there I offered to help with the cleanup, as the cider-thirsty crowds left a right mess behind.

“Thank ya, but we’ll handle it jus’ fine!” Applejack retorted. She wasn’t very happy about anypony meddling in her business and she was still fuming over the two brothers, so I didn’t force it.

“Applejack, manners!” Granny Smith again intervened before turning to me with a smile. “No worries Mr. Neigh, we have everythin’ under control. Much obliged for yer offer!”

“Have a nice day than and I’ll see you for lunch!” I replied before turning back to Ponyville.

The walk back was over far too soon, even though I had to be careful not to step into any cider puddles on the ground. As the trees cleared, Ponyville came into view from a new perspective, shining in the sunlight. The heat was back, now that the shade of the apple orchard disappeared, but I continued with leisurely pace back into town. This time around it was livelier, with ponies returning to the streets and shops. It felt like a town again. My destination was Quills and Sofas, if only to inform Davenport of the food I took from his pantry before going out for a walk.

Nearing the shop, I could already tell he was inside. Or should I say outside, as he was luring customers in by standing near the door and asking any pony that walked by if they needed a quill or a sofa. He saw me from the distance and waved. I smiled back.

“Hello!” I greeted him when I was close enough that I didn’t have to shout. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh, my mistake,” he said with the voice of a true salesperson underpinning his words, “I was certain you knew about today!”

He looked strange saying that. On closer inspection the reason became obvious. His eyes had a red hue to them and he was partially leaning on the door frame.

“You really like cider, don’t you?” I jokingly asked.

He smiled back, not sure if I was asking sarcastically.

“Are you gonna be alright out here?”

“Yes,” he sliced his hoof through the air, “I’ll be fine.”

“OK, I just wanted to let you know I took some food from the pantry in the morning.”

“That’s why it’s there for!” He slowly said and looked at me with the distinct expression on his face that he wanted me to leave him alone while he was sobering up. I didn’t keep him waiting.

“Thanks! See you later!”

With a few hours’ time remaining before the lunch I let my curiosity loose and set about getting information regarding the machine I saw. The most obvious option that was rolling around my head regarding the machine was simple. It was a well thought out parade float and had something to do with the start of the cider season. This in itself wasn’t so special, but being a kind of tourist, I had both the time and desire to know more about it. After all, what’s the point of going somewhere if you’re not going to see anything new?

There was one problem with my theory, and that was the overall surprise at the machine from the locals. The Apple family sure didn’t care much for it either, or perhaps a better expression would be that at least one of them outright hated it. Anyway, I needed more information and there were two places that could offer it: the Ponyville Museum, hidden inside the Town Hall or the Library, hidden inside a giant tree

Ponyville really likes to hide stuff.

First stop, the library. I knocked on the door and waited. Then waited some more. There was no response, so I looked around to see if anypony nearby could tell me where the librarian was. A magic mint Unicorn was walking by the library in the company of a beige pony with a curly colorful mane.

“Excuse me!” I never liked calling out for ponies. It always seemed so forced.

“Yes?” The minty green mare happily looked at me, her companion raising an eyebrow while keeping behind her.

“I’m wondering where the librarian is, would you happen to know?”

The two mares exchanged looks.

“You mean Twilight Sparkle?” The talkative mare responded.

I shook my head slightly, not sure if I heard right. “I guess?”

“I think they went to see Zecora.” The beige mare told me, managing to increase my confusion.

“They?” I wasn’t sure if ponies here were talking to the librarian as if she was royalty or if I was missing some vital piece of information.

“Twilight and her friends.” The beige mare replied and now they were both looking at me like I was from another planet for not knowing that. “You know, the Elements of Harmony?”

I certainly knew of the Elements of Harmony, but it was only now that I realized the librarian was the Twilight Sparkle. After defeating Nightmare Moon she gained a small celebrity status in an around Canterlot and probably the whole of Equestria. That she wasn’t living at the Royal Castle in Canterlot, or at least somewhere nearby, was already a mystery. The fact she was working as a librarian was downright unbelievable and the last time I was here nopony bothered to mention it.

“Yes, I know.” A white lie never hurt anypony, right? “Do you have any idea when they’ll be back?”

The two mares giggled at my naïveté, giving me a few vital seconds to prepare for the inevitable answer, even if it was longer than I had expected.

“No. Nopony knows when they will go somewhere or when they’ll be back. Most of the time we don’t even know where they go, only that they’re doing something important.”

“OK. Thank you!”

With the library closed, so to say, the museum was my next stop. I waited for the mares to continue their stroll then turned to face the City Hall not far away, hoping I wasn’t going to lose more time. It was easily the largest building in Ponyville, its design unlike any of the more or less generic buildings that surrounded it. A short walk later I was already opening the doors and looking for the right way to the museum. I was facing unmarked corridors and a very poor memory from my last visit, when I was told briefly that the museum was even here. There never was any chance of retrieving that information, which was why I had been scanning my surroundings for somepony – anypony – that could tell me where to go. In typical fashion for officials, there was nopony around.

Let’s go left.

I went into the left corridor.

Office. Office. Office. Office… No.

Instead of going back I used basic logic and assumed that the circular shape of the building would bring me back to my starting position and that one of the inner corridors held the museum. Continuing down the chosen path I passed more offices and, when I had all but given up on looking at the signs on the doors, I passed it. I looked at the sign on the door and moved my head away, expecting to see another administration unit, but the corner of my eye caught it long enough for my mind to wake up. Museum of Ponyville.

I knocked and entered almost simultaneously. The room into which I had walked in was no larger than the Quills and Sofas shop floor, only better decorated. Another thing it had in common with the shop, at least as it was in the morning, was that it was missing the pony who oversaw it. I wanted to go to a sleepy little town, but this was ridiculous. I looked around the room once more and questioned if such a small museum would even have a curator or if it was one of those museums where you were left to your own devices, so long as you didn’t touch anything.

Yeah, that’s it. I guess.

My first target of inquiry was the area of the room that appeared to have the most modern pictures and items scattered about the overcrowded shelves and tired tables. The Hoovenheim this was not. The first thing I noticed was a picture of the savior of Equestria and her five friends. Twilight Sparkle looked a lot younger in color than she did in the black and white newspapers that bore her image in the weeks following Nightmare Moon’s return and her friends were a colorful bunch.

Wait, is that…

Pinkie Pie. That tightened my stomach. I had no idea the pink pony was one of the Elements of Harmony or I would have acted differently when I met her. I thought she was being overly intrusive, perhaps even a little on the crazy side, but certainly not a virtue in herself. Sometimes I was too much in a hurry to jump to conclusions about other ponies. A mental note was added to my ever growing list of self-improvements for the future to give ponies a fair chance form now on. As much as I could change by the next encounter, whenever that’ll be.

There were more artifacts from the Twilight Era of Ponyville, as I began calling it. Pictures and actual parts of monsters defeated, good deeds done and even excerpts about lessons learned. I didn’t need to see everything to know this town was very proud of its young prodigy. One thing that wasn’t amongst the latest collection however, was the machine I saw earlier or the two brothers. For that I would probably need to take a look at the older part of the museum, as it seemed unlikely that this year’s cider celebration – or whatever it was called – would already be included here.

I looked across the room to find my next target area, yet the only thing I saw were more Twilight memorabilia. The Element of Magic was very busy indeed, as her artifacts and pictures covered half of the entire museum. It was only after I turned to the wall behind me that I started seeing things from days gone by. Old, nearly disintegrated pictures of the older generation accompanied by pieces of old tools that the first farmers here used were placed with as much care at the Twilight Era items on the shelves and tables. There was no way to know what came from which year without a guide. And I didn’t have one so I first went through the pictures and then looked at the items on display to see if I could find anything of use. Needless to say, there was nothing. This machine had to be even newer than I imagined.

“Good day! May I help you?” A faintly familiar voice asked.

Mayor Mare was standing at the door. From the way she was looking at me it wasn’t clear if she had recognized me, although I was sure I detected a hint of disapproval in her voice about being in the museum by myself. I nervously replied.

“Hello! I don’t know if you remember me; My name is Swifty Neigh and I’m here…”

“Of course I know who you are! Young Mr. Neigh.” She sounded very relaxed and almost maternal. “I thought I told you to come visit me the next time you were here?”

That she did. I muttered out an excuse, “I thought you meant when I was here officially.”

“Nonsense! You’re always welcome here. Now, how can I help you?”

I briefly explained the reason for my intrusion. Major Mare’s stance changed with every word I spoke, going from pleasant and helpful to poorly hidden tension. My voice automatically followed suit and by the time I finished with a direct question regarding the machine and its operators, I was speaking very slowly and carefully choosing my words. It was only after I had finished that I realized the absurdity of my own reaction. I was behaving like a small colt would when surprised by a question from a teacher. The major gave me an exaggerated smile and formulated the answer.

“Those two? They’re the Flim-Flam brothers.” She was quite anxious now and terrible at hiding it. I couldn’t help questioning, even as she spoke, how she could have become a major in the first place. Politicians were usually very good at this sort of thing. “I hear they’re going from town to town with that thing, trying to dupe somepony into buying it.” Another nervous smile later she added, “I wouldn’t bother with them so much.”

I wasn’t buying it, but at the same time I decided that it would be great playing poker with her. Easiest few bits I would ever make. Knowing I wouldn’t learn anything there, I wanted to ask her about the famous librarian and when she’ll be back, but she cut me off before a single word came from my mouth, saying the museum was about to close and it was time for me to go. Grudgingly, I obeyed. Not a minute later the doors of the City hall slammed shut behind me and I was left confused in the center of Ponyville. A new approach was necessary.

Waiting for Twilight to return was the best option I had and I was already planning out the day. I would start by wandering aimlessly in and around the town, taking in the sights I had missed the previous day before going to the Apple family for lunch and I should be back in town by evening. All I would need to do then would be to see if the library was still open. If it wouldn’t be, I could always ask for directions to Twilight’s home. I was sure she wouldn’t mind my curiosity.

I looked around to see my options for the sightseeing I had in mind. I had already visited the lake and the outskirts of the Everfree forest, but the mountains eluded me, or should I say, didn’t interest me up until now. There was no time for any serious mountaineering, so a short trip to the dam above Ponyville would have to suffice. The clock tower in the distance said I had about two hours’ time, which was plenty if I trotted at least one way. After the constant training at the Academy, I needed some daily exercise anyway, so I did just that.

Buildings gently rolled by and disappeared behind me as the road beneath my hooves climbed to the mountainside that supported the concrete behemoth. It passed between countless small hills, gaining and losing elevation with each small valley before going straight up the side of the mountain, the waterfall below the dam always in view. By the time the road leveled at the top of the dam I was catching my breath. It was incredible how one day of slouching could lower my stamina, not that the direct sunlight didn’t contribute to that. I slowed down to a walk, blaming my visits to the Sugarcube Corner the previous day for the aching legs, before walking to the side of the dam and leaning on the rail.

The view over Ponyville was rather good, the entire town looking like a play set and tiny ponies moving about. The Royal Castle at Canterlot was also visible thanks to the clear skies and its sheer size. It reflected some of the light hitting it, the towers appearing as gigantic beacons on the horizon to the right. To the left, partially obstructed from view by the mountainside, was the Everfree Forest. It somehow managed to look more sinister from afar than when I was standing in its shade. The mist rising from its grotesquely overgrown trees and undergrowth wasn’t making it any easier on the eye but it was something special to behold. There was no other place like it in Equestria, they said, and had no reason to doubt it. I knew Sweet Apple Acres began at its border and expanded directly in front of me, but it was obstructed from view by the dozens of small hills in the way.

Thinking of it reminded me that I didn’t have all that much time to actually stay here if I wanted to take a quick shower before going to lunch, but another thought made its way to my mind as I turned back the way I came. This was a very large dam, yet the river was very small. As I made my first steps toward Ponyville, I looked over the side of the rail again, only to see the tops of the nearby hills popping out of the ground like an artist’s sketch. There were no signs of a wide valley there, only the sharp edge of the cliff that was responsible for one of the wildest waterfalls I had ever seen. Even here the river had clearly cut into the rock over time, leaving near vertical walls on both sides just before the edge, but there were no obvious signs of ancient floods. I turned to the other side of the dam and looked at the massive lake accumulated behind it. Barren mountain tops testified to the damage done by the dam whose sole purpose must have been to prevent such damage in the first place. The whole thing was a bit of an oxymoron.

My stomach growled. If I wouldn’t get back to Ponyville soon, I would be late for lunch. After one final look to take in my surroundings I trotted over to Quills and Sofas for a shower and met up with the Apple family at their farm.

During the apple and Apple filled lunch I got to know the appropriately named family in greater detail that I would have wanted, but I could at least get some information about the Flim-Flam brothers and their Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000. I awed at the sheer determination of the Apple family, Granny Smith in particular, whenever next day’s contest was mentioned. There was no doubt in their minds of anything but victory of the old ways over the new.

The Apples, if I can call them that, were busily telling me everything I wanted to know and asking me about the glamor of being a royal guard, much to my amusement, but something didn’t seem right. It took me a long time until, shortly before leaving, I put my hoof on it and in one question changed the mood behind the table by first asking the elder mare, “You’re their granny if I’m not mistaking,” pointing at the other three ponies, before looking at the filly and adding, “How come your parents didn’t join you today?”

Note to self: learn to assess the situation better.

The atmosphere changed faster than if Celestia herself had appeared in my plate.

“They’re away in Appleloosa, helpin’ the family, but they’ll be back soon! Applejack always says so, isn’t that right?” Apple Bloom’s voice trembled with a mix of excitement and desire as she gave her sister a stare only a young filly could pull off.

“Yeah, they will,” Applejack replied with a forced smile, “Why don’t ya run along to your Crusaders now, and I’ll ‘ave granny make you a nice apple pie for when you get back – you did good today!”

With the filly gone and a cloud of sadness enveloping other ponies, I apologized for the reckless observation. Applejack quickly reassured me I hadn’t done anything wrong, while Big Macintosh simply added that the parents had died soon after Apple Bloom saw the light of day. He didn’t go into details and I didn’t feel like asking.

Walking slowly from the Apple homestead, my mind full of thoughts on the two brothers and feelings of guilt about the way the lunch had ended, I was approached by a mailpony who gave me a letter sent with urgency from Canterlot.

Leave shortened, return immediately… What? Why? Has something terrible happened?

Since Equestria hasn’t been in a war in a thousand years, I immediately thought about my father, hoping that there hadn’t been an accident in the laboratory. He might have been one of Equestria’s most respected chemists, but he was getting old and twitchy. Knowing full well I’d miss the return of the brothers to Ponyville, I quickly found a sky-chariot to Canterlot.

Chapter 3 - Sender Unknown

The whiteness of the ceiling is deafening.

The previous night had done miracles in helping me relax and forget about the whole fiasco with Pearl. Partly it was down to the company; dad always knew how to get me to calm down and it almost always involved food. I still don’t know why, but if you gave me something to sink my teeth into, I would have been able to forget a meteor strike. Munching on food must have disconnected some vital part of my brain and transferred it over to tasting, but I'm no biologist, so that's just a poor guess. The fact that Fast Grass was anything but the fast-food type joint its name implies was merely a bonus that helped me turn my mind to other things. The wine I was allowed to have, since I was technically still on leave, didn’t hurt either. I didn’t dare risk getting drunk, but returning to the dorm late at night slightly buzzed felt heroic in a way. Now, though, my leave was over and with the morning washing away the dreamless night, it was time to go back into the routine of an apprentice. Only now I had something else to worry about.

Everypony at the Academy knows it by now, don't they?

I had woken up even before my alarm clock buzzed me out of bed, so I reached out to my nightstand to disengage the alarm. I really didn't want it going off while I was getting ready. As I was nudging the clock back into place, I found myself focusing on the background that was my room with never before felt hint of sadness. After the vibrant colors of my Ponyville residence, or most other places I had stayed in over the years, this one was outright sterile. It wasn’t just the ceiling that was white, so were the walls and the door. The furniture was brown, but so pale I had to wonder what tree it had come from and there wasn’t that much of it anyway. A bed with a nightstand next to it, a simple chest of drawers and a small table. It had no personality whatsoever, but then I hadn’t done much to liven the place up. Most of my things were put away in the chest of drawers and I only had a single picture of my family on the table; me, my mom and dad. I was still a colt in it, but I didn’t replace it with a newer one as that would reduce the total number of ponies on it. And that was it. I had no posters on walls, no stuff lying around the room or on the furniture. Nothing that would make the room my own in any way.

As I returned to lying on my back and once again stared at the ceiling that had greeted me when I awoke, I pondered that for a while. I never had anything against the dormitory or the ponies living there – if anything, I was happy to be there. Yet I always treated my room as something temporary. A waiting room of sorts, even though I had spent many years there and I still had a year and a half ahead of me before I would leave it. The dormitory, the Academy - they were a temporary stage that I knew I had to get through before I would reach the final destination of becoming a Royal Guard. The only thing that didn't make sense now was why it had taken me so long to form that thought, but that was a question for another day.

Just as I reached that conclusion, I heard hoofsteps tapping against the floor of the hallway. I wasn’t the only one who was awake, but even as others were walking out of their rooms I kept my gaze frozen to the ceiling, my whole body sinking in that pleasant state of warm paralysis you get if you keep motionless long enough. I knew I would have to get up eventually, but for the time being I just wanted to continue losing myself in the blank view above me. As soon as I heard the key in the door turning, I knew my time was up. The door flew open before I could form a proper frown.

“Come on sleepster, time to go!” The voice of Sweeney Pod cut through the room before I could even raise a voice in protest as the blue Unicorn unlocked the door from the outside and let himself in. Right behind him was Lakemaw, who quickly added, “Don’t be so hard on him. He has to get some rest after the vacation.” Laughter ensued.

I moved my head to the side to face them. Both were looking at me with mischievous smiles on their faces. Closest to me was the one responsible for the trespassing. Sweeney Pod stood close to my bed, his aqua blue figure blocking the wonderful view of my dull room nicely, his blue and white mane combed back perfectly, as always, and the linen eyes completing the smile of his mouth. Slightly behind him, to his left side and thus directly in front of me was Lakemaw - dark olive green, with lime eyes and a light green mane that he deliberately kept unkempt whenever possible, although this wasn't one of those occasions. He was one of the Specialists that made you marvel at the strength of the magic used in the Final Stride.

They'll have their work cut out turning his coat gray.

“Funny,” I muttered as I slowly got out of bed to face my intruding friends at eye level. Half dazed, I told them to wait while I got ready, then proceeded to the washroom for a shower and some basic hygiene. When I got back, Sweeney was slouching on my bed and ‘Maw was looking out the window. I didn’t quite make out what they were talking about when I entered the room, but from the nonchalant way in which they paused when I opened the door, I knew they weren’t having one of their occasional grand debates about regional politics or some other issue they had no real influence on. This was more smalltalk than anything else, so I focused on finishing my preparation, hearing only a haze of words behind me as I scavenged the chest of drawers for everything I needed.

Freshly washed uniform – check; assortment of brushes and cleaners - check; saddlebags – check; mail pouches – check; the will to do this – not yet, but I have no real choice, so… check.

The uniform was only the second most important item there, but the rules demanded we wear it anytime we were on official business, and keeping it presentable even on a long journey was vital. At the same time, it was another of the many areas where the real Guards had the advantage. Their uniforms were made of gold – well, Celestia’s anyway; nopony had figured out what the Night Guards’ armor is made of – which only requires some basic cleaning. Gold is a metal after all. And you don’t have to worry about stains or creases on metal.

Our uniforms were designed to look like theirs, minus the helmet and the tail ornament, but were made of hardened cloth instead. This way, it appeared to be made from something solid from afar, but if the white color didn’t tip anypony off, the visible stitches did. I looked a bit ridiculous in it. Actually, no – we all looked ridiculous in them. The only consolation was that they were probably more comfortable and easier to wear than actual Guards’ uniforms. No amount of padding can take the weight off them after all. Truth be told, sometimes I didn’t even know why I bothered myself with these comparisons. We were required to wear them so we had to. I put mine on and signaled to the intruders that I was ready to go.

After stopping by the Main Office to pick up whatever it was we needed for our missions - mail and stamped orders in my case - we moved on to more pressing matters. The first was breakfast in the lounge, during which I was quite surprised that the events of the past few days didn’t get mentioned once. I could see that they knew and it wasn’t like they pretended nothing happened, but they guided the conversation nicely, from complaining about test results to guessing which of the mares teaching at the Academy any of us would have a chance with, while at the same time carefully avoiding the realistic conclusion of 'none'. As soon as we were done eating, we took some pre-made food packets for the road and went out. The train station was the next destination, so we left the confines of the Academy and moved out into the World. Or Canterlot, if you want to be specific.

Good morning, Royal City!

For all its glamor and sophistication Canterlot was a very lively city, but in a fundamentally different way to other large cities of Equestria. In the ones that I’d been in, the ponies were always rushing to get things done as fast as possible; bringing the drinks quickly, drinking quickly, talking quickly. It was as if time was always in short supply, whereas there was a certain elegance to the fast paced movements of waiters and merchants and the like here in Canterlot. Every step they took and every gesture they made was done without a single wasted movement, ensuring that the high-brow guests and customers wouldn’t wait a second longer than was strictly necessary, yet at the same time, there was no sense of urgency in the looks and words of those doing the serving.

Looking at the ponies going around their business mirrored the life at the Academy. Oh, we had plenty to do and plenty to prove and only the best would join the ranks of the Royal Guards, but not once did I get the feeling that we should push ourselves to braking point in order to excel. We were treated more as students than the soldiers we had pictured in our minds as colts. In keeping with that, there was a gradual but constant progression of training and studying, with the best advancing through the years. I guess that’s why training started at such a young age, since this approach took longer to produce Royal Guards, but I digress. I was rather happy with that kind of working pace.

If Canterlot operated on Ponyville speed, nothing would ever get done.

I immediately regretted forming that connection. That one thought brought back everything from my vacation. I stopped mid-walk and stared blankly into an orange stand handled by a young brown colt, if only for a second.

“Are you OK?” Sweeney intervened and snapped me back to the real world.

“Yes.” I quickly turned toward him and brought a reassuring smile to my face. “I just got lost in a thought.” With that we started walking again.

“We know how your trip to Ponyville ended.” Sweeney remarked as soon as we left the most crowded part of the city, with ‘Maw slowly nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Don’t worry, I’ve asked some friends to look into who exactly it was that reported you. Once I find out, we’re gonna go visit him.”

Sweeney wasn’t the kind of stallion to make idle threats. He would say something and, no matter how insignificant or important the statement was, do it in the nearby future, often when you least expected it. For a split second I enjoyed that I could always count on my friends, but another issue soon overshadowed that thought.

If he starts going around Ponyville looking for that prick...

The last thing I wanted was more trouble with Ponyville and, in return, Pearl. If word got out that I was looking for revenge, it could spell the end of my days at the Academy. I had to act fast, so I waved him off while trying to sound as indifferent as I could.

“It’s done. They realized how stupid it sounded and that’s it. It’s over.”

Not my finest reaction, but then again I hadn’t expected him to go that far either. I hadn’t expected him to go there at all, if I’m honest.

“No. Somepony tried to set you up and we have to do something about it.” Sweeney wasn’t giving up. “Don’t worry, we’re just going to find him, hunt him down and -“ I started raising a hoof to my face in anticipation of what would follow “- have a nice little chat with him before we take him to the Academy to explain the whole mess.”

Oh, OK. That wasn’t as bad as I anticipated.

I don’t know what we talked about for the last few minutes before reaching the train station or how I got the Defenders Special ticket for the days of traveling that were ahead of me. I know I was supposed to show my approved orders to get it and I’m sure I did, but the whole thing was such a routine, I failed to notice it. Just as my mind cleared and I was becoming once again aware of my surroundings it was time to say goodbye. First to ‘Maw, who was going on a logistics course in Vanhoover and, as soon as his train departed, to Sweeney. He was on the same assignment as me only to a different city – his home town of Manehatten. Sometimes we got lucky like that. Half an hour later, my train arrived and I jumped into the carriage closest to me.

Well, this is nice!

The carriage I had entered was completely empty, which was something I had never seen before. In the best case scenario, there was always at least a lone traveler aboard with whom to talk to when things got boring. In the worst case, the carriage would be packed full of ponies, sometimes even a family with crying foals added as an added test of mental strength. But not this time.

I walked to the second bench nearest to the door and sat down. For a while, I didn’t really dare making myself comfortable. A part of me thought I must have missed something about the carriage I was in. Maybe there was a sign on it that said something about it being reserved or freshly painted or something, so I looked around and scanned with my ears for any sound of other ponies entering, but apart from all the regular hissing sounds of a waiting train, there was nothing. A look out of the window didn’t reveal anything out of place either, just a platform and ponies waiting for other trains.

Are they going to unhook this ca-

My thought was interrupted as the ear-piercing sound of the whistle echoed through the carriage. The gentle hissing of steam turned to familiar deep thumps, now going through the wooden planks like a heartbeat and slowly growing in frequency. A second later, the whole carriage was momentarily jerked forward, before it settled down into an even acceleration. I turned my head and looked out of the window in a pointless and somewhat silly attempt to confirm that the train was moving in the right direction.

It was. The towers and walls of Canterlot - the ones that I could see, looking out of the window at an angle - were slowly shrinking, the land below them basking in the crisp air and radiant glow of the Sun. I found myself smiling. A look through the other side of the carriage offered only the side of the mountain rushing past the windows, until the mountain gave way to darkness. Tunnels, one after the other, hid the scenery for a few seconds at a time as the train descended to the base of the mountain. After the train had gone through the last tunnel, forests and meadows appeared simultaneously on both sides of the carriage. As this signaled the start of the dull part of the journey, where we would be passing mostly uninhabited terrain all the way to Baltimare, I looked to my saddlebags and pulled out my new favorite book. I had planned on leaving it aside until I would get too bored on the train, but that plan was counting on one factor: that I wouldn’t be alone in the carriage. And this was a trip that would take nearly two days.

Of course, I could have always gone through the door separating my carriage from the next, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to do that, although perhaps that's not the proper word. I didn't want to bring myself to do that. I wasn’t usually one to crave solitude, but the events of the past days suddenly made it seem very attractive. I suppose there’s only so much hoof-pointing that anypony can take from others and himself before he wants to be secluded for a while. And it did feel good.

”The CloudPuff remains the most used type of train locomotive in Equestria. Named for the shape of the steam exiting its chimney, it has ferried ponies to every destination reachable by tracks for generations. Despite occasionally running out of coal and having to resort to pony power to continue the journey, it remains the ponies’ champion in transportation to this day - even Pegasi enjoy taking a trip in these proud machines.”

As the mountains near Baltimare came into view, I was approaching the end of the book. For all its drawings it was quite a technical thing, so every now and again I shifted my attention to the scenery passing by the window to clear my mind. The railroad cut a path through the wilderness. Serene landscape combined with the sense of isolation in the carriage to bring about the feeling of being the only pony alive in all of Equestria. In the next hours my mind drifted from the events of days gone by to the upcoming birthday party for ‘Maw. I already had a fairly good idea of what to do, but pulling off the surprise was a two-pony job, so I needed Sweeney’s help. Now I could just work out the details in peace and when my mind was full, I simply closed my eyes and napped for a few minutes. Another luxury of solitude that I wasn't used to on these trips.

Every now and again the arrival of the conductor brought me out of my daydreaming, but even that didn’t bother me. I didn’t want to sleep too much during the day anyway, as that would make sleeping at night all the more difficult. The other reason why I wasn’t bothered was because I sympathized with him. He must have been bored. Having to walk around a train that isn’t stopping anywhere but its destination was fruitless work, but it had to be done. Officially, he was probably looking out for freeloaders, and who knows, maybe some brave and talented ponies could have gotten the bright idea of hitching a free ride to Baltimare by jumping aboard the moving train, but in reality the conductor was merely keeping in shape by obeying the rules. Occasionally, he pushed a food cart through the carriages in the hopes somepony would buy something, but the thing always looked as full as the first time he’d come around. On another one of these visits, he must have finally had enough of wandering about.

“Ah, I see you’re still here,” he said with a note of surprise in his voice, bringing me out of my nap.

Well, where was I supposed to have gone?

“Yes, I’m enjoying the trip. I always forget how nice the Filly Hills are,” I nearly yawned back.

He extended a hoof, holding a bag of snacks and offered them to me. I looked at him for a moment, not quite sure where the sudden generosity had come from, then thought, eh, why not?, and took some pretzels. It was a rare treat, even if it was basic. All I had with me was some pre-packed food from the lounge.

“Well you still have some time to look at them, but not long. I think Princess Luna is getting ready to raise the moon.”

Now I was the one who was surprised. I sharply turned my head back towards the window on the other side of the carriage, and saw the Sun approaching the horizon. My naps must have been longer than I thought. Just as I was about to comment on this realization, the conductor kindly informed me what I already knew.

“Anytime you feel like getting some rest, just head over to the sleeping carriage. Right through that door.”

I automatically looked in the direction he was pointing at, then looked back at him and nodded with a smile, “Thank you.” As always, the sleeping carriage was at the very back of the train and seeing there was little point in staying on the upholstered bench, if I could move to a bed, I made my way to the back. During the short walk I went by a few ponies in various states of rest scattered around the five passenger carriages and one multi-pony sleeping carriage, but I didn't pay too much attention to them. Nopony likes being stared at, especially when they're trying to get some sleep and double so when they know you're walking toward the private sleeping carriage for the night. The Academy may have given us dull tasks but it sure knew how to treat us.

Before finally climbing into the bed to sleep, I tried making myself extra sleepy by reading the always boring addendum at the very end of the book. Nothing would get my eyes closed faster than some technical garble about which machine was invented when or some things like that. I opened the book and was proven right. For the most part anyway. I saw a series of dates and names, cobbled into a list by somepony who hadn’t heard of alphabetical sorting, but in the final paragraph there was something that gave me a coffee-like boost.

“Once deemed unusable and unsalvageable, the locomotives and other devices mentioned herein are transported to the Dodge City salvage yard. By being taken apart these well-worn devices ensure at least some of the metal and wood can be reused...”

Maybe my hunch about the brothers’ machine being an old railway locomotive wasn’t that far off.

Dodge huh? That's not so far… No. You're going to get in trouble. Time to sleep.

Dodge was indeed close to Baltimare, but we weren't allowed to leave our Area of Operation while on assignments. If you were smart, you know how to circumvent that rule by making the most out of the free time you have inside the AO, but Dodge was most definitely out of my current one. I tried thinking of ways to make it work, which resulted in my brain working overtime as I lay in bed. It took me until morning to fall asleep, but once I was tired enough for my brain to shut down, I found myself sleeping like a colt. Well, that’s not really the right expression I suppose – I found myself waking up close to noon, so I deduced I had slept like a colt. Thank Celestial Railways for putting heavy curtains on the windows.

With over half the journey over, I knew I should be in Baltimare shortly after dusk. When I first made this trip by myself a long time ago, I was amazed at how a routine trip to a town like Ponyville can take a full day and night, whereas not one day of travel more will bring you to a faraway city like Baltimare or Phillydelphia. On the map the distances seemed at least twice as long. As a result these kind of trips always felt like they were over far too quickly.

I wonder if I’ll ever be able to make a normal visit to Ponyville again.

That town really wasn't staying out of my mind as much as I'd wanted it to. Thankfully, something more important allowed me to brush that thought aside.

I'm hungry.

I had already eaten everything I brought with me yesterday, so I put on my uniform and made my way back to my previous carriage, hoping the conductor would come around with the same cart of goodies as the day before. Only this time, he wouldn’t be leaving without me buying something.

On the way back the ponies of yesterday, now wide awake, were looking at me with a mix of sublime wonder, jealousy and even fear as I passed them. It was like that on every train ride and at first I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but with time I recognized a pattern. Some ponies wanted to be like us. Some feared us. Some disliked us. Some were just unsure of what to think or how to act. And very rarely you met those who you could talk to as if you were just another civilian. I suppose I could have counted most of the conductors in that last group, but I was never really sure if they were being polite just because they had to be or because they were used to us. Maybe some entirely different reason.

I entered the last carriage before my own, when I saw somepony I hadn't seen in a very long time. A light brown mare with gleaming gray eyes. Her mane was only slightly darker than her body, but a thin silver stripe cut through it on her right side. She saw me as well, and before I could say anything, she smiled in surprise and shouted out to me.

“Swifty? Hey!”

It was Silverline, an old childhood friend. She looked at me with a huge grin on her face and it wasn’t long before I mirrored her expression. It had been more than a decade since I last saw her. I was more surprised that I still knew her name than that she had recognized me, but that was a thought for another day. Without worrying too much about what the other ponies in the carriage were going to make of it, we jumped towards each other in a gratifying hug. I had began to wonder how I had managed to miss her the previous evening, only to have another thought override that as soon as we hugged.

There are ponies you can live without for years and still feel like they never left your side, but there are ponies you see every day and will never be more than mere acquaintances.

“What are you doing here?”

“Going back to Baltimare. I’ve been living there for three years now.” I wished I’d known that earlier. I must have made half a dozen trips there in that year alone.

“So, you left Canterlot behind? School, business, …a stallion?”

I deliberately said the last part in a playful way. She was quite a shy filly when she was young and that's something you never really grow out of, so it made her twitch a little. She tried to hide it behind a short laugh before she changed the topic.

“The second one actually. Once I got my cutie mark…”

“Excuse me, would you kindly return to your seats? I’m afraid I’ll be needing some room for the food trolley.”

The conductor managed to mask the fact he wasn’t really asking fairly well, but then we were being inconsiderate, what with standing in the middle of the only path through the carriage. Instead of politely moving out of the way, I surprised him.

"What do you have?"

With a nicely sized dinner - for a train buffet anyway - we made our way to the empty carriage at the front to continue our conversation in private. Time flew as we talked about what we had been doing for the past ten years. I learned that she had found her calling in dancing, but her shy nature had guided her to a career as a dancing instructor rather than a performer. And how she had gone from helping out in a dance school to opening a franchise of it in Baltimare. In turn I explained my long ago predicted but nonetheless challenging climb to the Royal Guards. It didn’t matter it was still in progress; it was with a sense of elation that I spoke of the days gone by and even about the days still ahead of me.

I pointed my hoof towards the window as we were discussing the good and less good sides of Baltimare, getting ready to compliment the stunning scenery around it, when I noticed my hoof was actually pointing to the lights of the city itself. We were nearly there. In a stark contrast to the mountains and fields of grass surrounding it, Baltimare was sticking out of the ground, chiseled buildings as high as the Canterlot castle rising in great numbers from the ground.

I didn’t have much luggage to gather, seeing as my only remaining items were the two saddlebags containing the mail and a change of clothes. My old friend, on the other hoof, appeared to bring her entire worldly possessions with her. In the carriage she was in the previous day she had no fewer than three large suitcases, while her saddlebags were with her at all times, much like mine.

“How did you get these on the train in the first place?” I had doubts she could have dragged all of them onboard herself.

“I improvised.” A smug smile crept across her muzzle. I wasn’t going to get an answer to that question.

“OK.”

I helped her get the luggage off the train and after stumbling down to the platform, suitcases in tow, we made our way to the nearest chariot we could find. My DS ticket would cover the expenses, much to my friend's surprise. The taximare didn't question Silverline's presence with me despite the solitary ticket, but as I've said before, the Academy knew how to treat us. The first destination was Silverline's apartment.

"Come around if you have some time," Silverline said as she stepped from the chariot, leaving the doormare with the luggage, "If I'm not here, I'm at work!"

She smiled just as she did when she first saw me on the train and I gladly replied once more. Now more than ever I had a reason to find as much extra time tomorrow as I could, but before I could plan out my next day, it was time to check-in to the hotel. I gave the taximare the new address and waved goodbye to Sivlerline, while lamenting having to go the hotel in the first place, but orders were orders. This turn of events did manage to spike my appetite though, although not for food. Let's just say I started observing things I probably wouldn't have otherwise immediately observed after a long trip such as the one I had just had, and my eyes wandered from the sights of the city to the pony pulling the chariot.

The taximare was something special, as it wasn't very often that a regular town chariot was pulled by a Pegasus. She was pink, but it was the white mane, barely hidden behind the taxi cap, that really caught my attention. It wasn't the kind of white you expect to find on the head of an elder pony, it was pearlescent almost, reflecting light from the passing street lamps. My gaze involuntarily moved onward to her flank – just to see her cutie mark, I swear – but it was obstructed from view. Before she or anypony else noticed me staring like that I realized just how inappropriate what I was doing was. If the staring itself wasn't bad enough, there was also the point that I was in an open-top chariot that anypony could see into and that I was wearing my uniform, which was a great way to promote the Academy. So I shook my head and my thoughts with it and refocused my mind to the buildings passing us by, taking in the sights of the large city falling asleep around me, with barely a pony in the streets.

No wonder Silverline loves this place.

The smooth road brought me to the Greenlit all too soon. The sight of the old yellow building stopped my daydreaming in an instant. It was time to thank the pink pony for the trip, take my saddlebags and get checked-in to the misnamed hotel. Stepping through the narrow gates felt like going into a cavern, but the moment I passed through the doorway, the interior opened up to reveal a large lobby with a half luxurious décor and wide stairs leading to the upper floors. It was almost as if the building was undercover, odd on the outside with a hidden center within.

The receptionist knew I was coming, so I should have been on my way to the room soon, but that was a moot point. I was so well rested from the train there was no point in trying to sleep, not yet at least. A better idea was to get my keys and settle down on one of the couches in the hallway that bypassed the stairs and continued towards the restaurant. If I wasn’t going to sleep, I might as well have planned my mail route for tomorrow, but I wasn’t going to do that in the confines of my room. Being on that couch in the hallway somehow made me feel like I was still among other ponies, even if most of the guests had gone to sleep already.

The list of delivery destinations in Baltimare was not very interesting to read, although the only thing less interesting than that were the deliveries themselves. No matter the city, it was always the same greeting, the same conversation and the same bad jokes. My favorite one was when someponies would inevitably say “You come here all the way from Canterlot? Aren’t your wings tired?” and then try to hold back the embarrassment as they would realize I don’t have wings. For some reason everypony was just used to the Guards being Pegasi. Or when somepony would deliberately question my appearance. “How can you be a Royal Guard if you’re blue?” They knew full well I wasn’t a Guard yet, but it was just fun to mess with Specialists. I often wondered how those ponies reacted to those of us who were naturally white or gray. Were they quietly disappointed to lose their favorite tease or did they use something else?

With a map of the city in front of me I finished planning my route from the list in no time at all. It was quite a lot like connect-the-dots, only here I was trying to find the fastest way through all the addresses and one that preferably led to either the dance school or Silverline's apartment. With the path planned, I knew I should have plenty of time for myself the next day, but there was nothing left for me to do today, so I decided to call it a night. As I circled around the stairs and put my hoof on the first step the receptionist called out for me.

“Mister Neigh? I'm sorry, I almost forgot - you have mail!”

Great. They figured out how little I have to do and decided to pile on more.

With the hope of a leisurely workday quickly evaporating, I turned to face her. And immediately felt that feeling replaced by astonishment as I saw her holding a small package in her hooves. She dropped it on the counter as I slowly approached. It certainly didn't look like anything from the Academy, as our orders and any kind of packages were always not only clearly marked, but also the prescribed color and shape that the Academy used for mail. There were also no markings on it except for a regular Canterlot seal, my name and the address of the hotel. No sender, no return address. The receptionist handed me a note that accompanied the package.

“You always were forgetful. Next time please try to keep your books about you. Have a nice trip! Love, dad.”

If the purpose of that message was to confuse me than I had nothing else to say but job well done! That wasn’t my father’s writing and I certainly didn’t leave a book behind. I never read anything unless I had to and even then I read it in my own room at the dorm. And there weren’t many places to lose a book from the library at the Academy to the dorm. Still, it was sent to me. Not wanting to look suspicious I took the package and went to my hotel room where I unpacked the mysterious item. At least the note was true about the contents.

Advanced formations and discipline for Guards

Talk about being dumbstruck. I knew that I would need this very book in the near future for my studies, but it was at least half a year early for that.

Looks like somepony wants me to study…

I flipped through the first few pages and stopped abruptly as a small piece of paper dropped on the ground. I looked at it for a moment and rolled my eyes at the colt-like levels of hide and seek somepony was playing with me. Then I picked it up.

“If you ever need to be someplace fast there’s a pink Pegasus with a cutie mark of an acorn that’ll be going by your hotel every two hours from noon.”

Why noon?

That meant it wasn't my ride for the mail delivery and I got the feeling it didn't mean the dance school or the apartment either. Not unless somepony had predicted my running into Silverline on the train and the subsequent invitation. But there was really only one other destination I would possibly want to visit from Baltimare.

Dodge City. Fine.

If somepony had gone through all the trouble of sending me the note in the most complicated way possible instead of - I don't know - just telling me, and had arranged for the taximare to take me where I needed to go, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip. There was no way of knowing when I would be able to visit Dodge City on my own and either way, there was going to be enough time to get there and back before nightfall if I had planned my route right. And if somepony from the Academy were to find out, well, I would deal with that later. But the strange way in which the message was delivered had formed a seed of doubt in my mind and just as I turned to throw the note into the trash bin, a strange feeling swept through me. The sense that this whole mess was quite a lot more complicated than I realized. That I was stepping into the unknown and it could go horribly wrong if I slip, but that I wouldn’t be able to prepare for any of it. Instead of trying to plan my approach in Dodge and think about how I’ll get the information about the brothers’ machine I went to bed, my mind devoid of any thoughts.

Chapter 2 - Leave Shortened

Sitting in a defensive position between Manners-Mare Pearl and my preceptor was not where I expected to find myself after arriving back. Directly in front of me, behind her massive desk, set the white mare with glaring pink eyes and a red mane that made it appear as if she was on fire. It matched her attitude. To my right towered the large gray figure of the departing Royal Guard, a brown-eyed pony named Yellow Ridge. He was motionless and level-headed, as always.

“This is quite a serious accusation,” Manners-Mare Pearl continued while my brain was still figuring out the details, “Think carefully before you respond.”

The Manners-Mare was a pony existing in the gray area between defense personnel and public officials. Her everyday role was that of a lecturer at the Office of Civil Behavior, where she would explain and demonstrate the virtues of orderly conduct that all Royal Guards were expected to have. The fact that an entire department was created for this purpose tells you more about the importance of behaving properly than I ever could. This day, she was in her other role - that of judge, jury and executioner. It was a function the Manners-Mares served whenever somepony broke any of the myriad of rules that governed the behavior of every Specialist and Guard.

I shot out a harsh "no." A stern look from my preceptor reminded me to rephrase that answer. I coughed and apologized. "I'm sorry. I mean - no, I deny these accusations."

This wasn’t my first visit to the Office. I had been here before, although only once on account of something I did and twice as a potential witness to something others had done. The potential part is very important, as there weren’t many ponies at the Academy that were actual witnesses to anything. Everypony at the Academy felt the same level of disdain for the Office for their nitpicking abilities.

"Noted." Her tone of voice was as level as it was unfeeling, contrasting her stare. She wrote something in the Journal of Proceedings before turning back to me. "So your being here is completely unwarranted?"

When I first learned of my destination, I wasn’t any more worried than I subconsciously assumed was necessary, as the misdemeanors that got you sent to the Office usually involved minor stuff. Being too loud at certain times or places in the campus, drinking, getting into heated arguments, not following your orders to the letter, and so on. There were too many to keep track, so getting called in for something trivial was always an option, although the rumor-mill always came up with new and exciting stories of somepony from another class – you wouldn’t know them, they’re a year older than you – getting in trouble for something we all did. It was funny most of the time. I, on the other hoof, hadn't broken any of the major rules and I was sure the minor ones wouldn’t tally up to anything important even if they were all witnessed. In retrospect the fact that I was called in from Ponyville should have raised an alarm.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” she asked, the only thing moving on her body being an eyebrow. Her statue-like stillness was so much worse than any screaming and kicking would be. “Yes? Somepony just made this up for no reason?”

“I don’t know, but I never did that.”

I really didn’t. I was being framed. The worst part is, it’s practically impossible to defend against something you haven’t done, just as it’s impossible to disprove something that doesn’t exist.

“Did what exactly?” Manners-Mare’s voice shot back as if she had expected that answer.

“That’s the thing! I don’t even know what I was supposed to have said. I haven’t even heard the rumor yet.”

My pressure was slowly rising despite my best efforts to control it as I spewed that out. I had never been in such a position before and I wasn’t coping well. All sorts of emotions flowed through my head as I tried to piece it all together. Cold sweat ran beneath my fur, slowly drenching me. My bladder was going to explode. I wasn’t here for cheating on a test. I wasn’t here for being drunk or aggressive. I was here for the big one: Slandering Celestia. Short of threatening to kill her there wasn’t really anything that could top that. I was on the verge of hyperventilating and it took whatever willpower I had had to combat it.

“Rumor? You mean the report?”

She picked up a letter and started reading in fast pace. Somepony had started a rumor – I refuse to call it anything else than that - about me going around half-drunk and talking to anypony that would listen about the unpleasant sides of “Sunbutt”, as I apparently called our benevolent ruler, and what I would do to said alicorn. Specific body parts and their interlocking patterns were mentioned. The more she read the more I thought I was a part of some prank or that somepony had framed me for something. Whatever the reason behind it was, I wasn’t very clear on that. The kind of words and language that I had supposedly used were far below what I would call my worst enemies. Preceptor Ridge’s change in facial expression indicated a similar thought.

“That doesn’t sound anything like mister Neigh,” he said, a smile forming on his face, “Not unless he’d gone to the Everfree forest and got tangled up in some Poison joke, but I think I would have noticed that. When was this supposed to have happened?”

Thank you!

“Recently, in Ponyville.” She looked at me, as if I was the one who had asked the question. “Obviously I can’t tell you who you were seen talking to so you don’t start harassing the witnesses, but apparently the anonymous tipster isn’t the only one who heard you.”

“I don’t know why he made it up. I only know it’s not true.”

With every passing moment my hopes of this being some kind of cruel prank vanished piece by piece and a single mistake in that sentence was enough for her to continue the tirade. Her voice definitely got livelier at that point, not to mention her gaze, which was now sporadically running over my face in search of the slightest sign of nervousness, of which there were many.

“He? Whoever said it was a he? Or do you know who reported you? Which would mean,” she spoke the words more slowly and deliberately, as if solving a puzzle, “That you remember who you so disgracefully spoke to about Princess Celestia.”

“What? No!”

One mistake led to another. After giving her the best cue I could ever have given for the next question I fell straight into the trap that I had helped to prepare. I don’t know why I responded the way I did. It was the most obvious response possible, expected even, and even though I felt a pang of subconscious trying to hold me back, I had to say it. This time she said nothing, merely looking at me with a contained smile in her eyes. The smile of victory. A mixture of humiliation and injustice forced the next words out of my mouth.

“Why would I do that?” Why would I want to be a Royal Guard and then do something like that? “Why…”

I looked to my right, breathing heavily, as if I had just run a marathon, and saw the preceptor’s pitying look. I had broken, if only for a moment. As they quietly looked at me the full realization of how I was behaving hit me. The mental cold shower snapped me out of my own grave digging and I calmed my thoughts, despite a developing urge to jell at them for playing these mind games. I couldn’t even justify jelling at Yellow Ridge, but my mind had somehow decided that he was as bad as Pearl. He must have sensed that. Before I found the words to continue my defense, he stepped in.

“Young mister Neigh can be a bit reckless at times, but I don’t image him badmouthing the princess.” He talked slowly and patiently, as if this was a debate club. “He’s far too ambitious to compromise that, even if he still has some things to iron out as far as his behavior goes. Or is there something I don’t know?”

Why couldn’t you have said that at the start?!

“No. No, there isn’t.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that I have one ally in that room, although at the time my mind was drowning. Pearl said nothing, waiting for me to continue, but the outright defense I was receiving from my preceptor gave me enough time to regroup my thoughts and assess the situation a bit better.

She’s playing mind games. It’s her job. Don’t take it personally.

I momentarily looked at him and then back to Pearl. I remembered that if there’s one thing these official-types like, it’s showing humility and strength in the face of danger and I was determined to act on that. I guess all the years at the Academy had paid off, even if I never suspected I would have to use the skills it was teaching me on its own territory. I took a deep breath, straightened myself out and relaxed my muscles.

“I know this must be some kind of sick joke, but right now I’m just battling the wind. I can’t defend myself against something somepony said." I'm still proud of what I said next. "But I’ll gladly confront these accusations in a court where I can defend myself properly.”

That shut her up, while Yellow Ridge was starting to twitch, fearing I would continue my little speech into misconduct. Much to his relief, I held back. That didn’t stop him from preemptively involving himself into the conversation more than he probably should have.

“That source of yours, how reliable is it?” Even before he finished the sentence, Pearl demonstrated that I wasn’t the only one worthy of receiving her razor blade stare as she turned to my mentor. He quietly gulped and continued in a slightly calmer, slower voice. “What I mean is, mister Neigh’s recent argument is perfectly valid.”

“Preceptor Ridge,” she replied in a slightly condescending tone, “You know perfectly well that these kind of situations call for a preliminary hearing, which is what we’ve done here today.” Then, turning back to me, she added, “I had to see with my own eyes exactly how Specialist Neigh would react to the letter. And who knows how mister Neigh, as you so leisurely call him, would have reacted had he been brought directly to court to face his accuser. He might terrorize him into submission. After all, these kinds of complaints don’t just appear out of thin air.”

Pearl was still looking at me with her pink eyes like she wanted me skewered. The Manners-Mares were always chosen for their ferocious loyalty to Celestia, which in itself was understandable. They carried on their backs the reputation of the Academy and any other public office, so the way they held to their beliefs and the way they enforced them was entirely understandable, if annoying for everypony else. The way it made them blind to any change in circumstance regarding a specific case was not. Despite my earlier thoughts of self-assurance Pearl was convinced I had done something, and she wasn’t going to let my preceptor change her mind even slightly. Looking at the grand scheme of things, perhaps that was a good trait to have. I didn’t see it that way at the time for obvious reasons.

“Of course.”

After a few minutes’ worth of formalities that are mandatory at such occurrences I was left off with a stern warning about behaving myself from the still unconvinced Manners-Mare, but at the end of the day, she really had nothing to do. Either she would have sent me to court with only an anonymous letter serving as evidence, or she would have to let me go. I was pleased she chose the second alternative. Speaking of which, it really was the end of the day – I had just enough time I got back to Ponyville and get some sleep if I wanted to see the brothers return in the morning. As the door of the Office closed behind me and prepared to leave, I was stopped by a gray hoof.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yellow Ridge held firm as I looked back at him. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea to be going back to Ponyville after what had just happened.”

“What?” I automatically stopped and stood at attention, as one should when being talked to by a pony of higher rank, even if my choice of words wasn’t fully by protocol. “I don’t understand.”

“Just because you got off easy doesn’t mean the matter is closed. And how will it look like if you run back to the town that indicted you the first chance you get?”

“Well, it-“

“It would look as if Manners-Mare was right. That you were on your way to find the joker who sent in that report and have a little one-to-one with him.” He was talking with a quiet yet heavy tone, as if the advice wasn’t really meant for me. “There would be agents on your tail the whole time there and you can forget about not breaking at least one code of conduct while you’re there. One misstep and you’re back here.”

He slowly put his hoof on the ground and looked at me for a few seconds. I looked back, all the while thinking of ways to stand my ground. About arguing with him. Or reasoning, but a part of me knew this day could have ended a lot worse, so having to spend the final day of rest here – even still having a final day of rest – was its own reward, even if it hadn’t been my fault.

“Yes sir.”

With a lowered head I made my way to the dormitory to get some rest. Despite the good outcome the short walk from one building to the next proved to be the longest in my life. And creepiest. I felt eyes following me with every step, monitoring my every motion, only to hastily retreat into another direction as I searched for them. The Guards standing watch at the gates tightened the grip on their spears as I passed. The few souls wandering around the small park at the center of the Academy snickered and whispered about me in scornful tones. Outlines of sinister faces appeared on trees. It was only at the gates to the dorm that the walk of shame ended. At the one doorway without guards. I opened the door and looked back.

I hope you got a good laugh out of-

I looked around the campus. None of it was real. The trees were, well, trees. The Guards stood as calmly and unmoving as they had always stood. The few ponies wandering around were too busy talking to one another and enjoying the evening to take any more notice of me than they would have on any other day. There was a fellow Specialist, whose name has always eluded me, that looked at me with a questioning curiosity. At first I thought that his look was the result of the manner in which I had walked by him without greeting him, which was both rude and against the code of conduct, so I nodded with a forced smile, my head moving in a mechanical way. Then I realized that he had seen me exit the Office and understood that my behavior was a direct result of what had just happened. The manner in which he returned my late greeting, on the other hoof, reassured me that he had no idea what the reason behind my visit was. It was more a – hope you didn’t get into too much trouble – kind of look. Then he turned and walked away, while I made my way inside.

The white marble building, usually teeming with life, was nearly deserted. Usually there would be groups of ponies walking around, talking, laughing, even at this time of day. And even when the building was emptier than usual, there would usually be somepony from our little group present to hang out with or I would have some assignment to finish that would pass the time. Not so this time. Nearly everypony was away on leave, as I should still have been. The few younger ponies in the central hall were sitting and silently reading, getting ready for the exams that would start in a few days’ time. A few looked my way when I entered, nodded and got back to reading. Say what you will of the average students, discipline reined here.

The curved hallways echoed with the sound of silence. They stretched out to both sides from the round central hall, leading to all the rooms and forming a horseshoe if viewed by a Pegasus. As I took a left and slowly walked to my room, one and the same question popped up in my mind with every click of my hoof. It wasn’t the one you’d think. Not why or who had done this to me but rather why did it have such a strong effect on me as I walked to the dorm? Why had I imagined all those things if I was indeed guiltless. I shook my head.

No. This is what happens. They accuse you of something and you feel guilty because you got accused. Everything worked out fine so there’s no need for that!

My powers of self-persuasion only lasted until I got to my bed. The day wasn’t nearly over by my normal standards, but I was mentally exhausted. I spent the better part of the night borderline asleep, awoken by every little noise and rolling around in my bed like I had never slept in it before. Even in moments when I did actually sleep, I would wake up due to strange dreams. To make matters worse, I saw a lot of Pearl. Not as a monster or a villain, though, but in a more – ahem – close way. I woke up not because of nightmares, but due to sheer shock value of seeing the hateful white mare acting in such a way.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Unless it hates you.

Luckily my sporadic dreams changed for the better just as I caught glimpses of dawn, but the efforts of what was now the previous day were too much. When I woke up for good I made my way out of my room and noticed that there was still barely anypony in the halls of the Academy dorm. Barely anypony I would want to talk to, anyway. Outside seemed the best place to be, so I went for a walk around Canterlot, endlessly wondering why somepony would do something as sinister as that despite trying to calm down and bury it in the past. Any way I looked at it, it was a low kick.

At least the matter stayed behind closed doors. The last thing I need is for my friends and family to hear those accusations and act all polite towards me.

Of course I knew they would support me, but then again I would never be able to tell exactly how much they really believed me, and that would slowly eat me from the inside. Amidst the darkening cloud of thoughts came a delivery of good news when I returned to the dorm in the afternoon and learned about my assignments for the next few days. Mail delivery. Well, not ordinary mail, obviously, but delivery of correspondence that was just important enough to warrant some kind of official escort, yet somehow not important enough to be delivered by the Guards. I never understood that, but I wasn't going to complain. My leave may have ended unexpectedly and on a sour note, but the upshot was that I was going to get to travel a bit over Equestria for a few days.

I bet Ridge made this happen to make sure I don't go near Ponyville. I shouldn't like what that implies, but I'll take it!

Whatever the reason behind it was, mail delivery was quite a few steps better than having to actually go through a hearing and whatnot. Regular courts have always been a place for bureaucracy to spread its wings and fly, so you’re bound to lose a few hairs on your mane, but the Royal Court… Well, let's just say I was happy that my offer to stand trial was enough to prevent that outcome. The strange part was that I still somehow felt guilty, as if I could have done something to prevent those accusations from appearing in the first place. Or perhaps that it was my behavior in the past that somehow lead to this and dammit, there had to be some kind of trial for my failure to act good enough to prevent this. I wasn't sure.

I'm hungry.

I continued my sulking in the lounge of the dormitory while stuffing myself slowly on some late lunch. I looked at the food in front of me without really considering it, ate it piece by piece and ignored everything and everypony else around me. The lunch gave me just enough of a boost that I realized I was wasting the day and that I really wanted to talk to somepony, so I decided it might be a good idea to check up on my dad. Maybe he’d have some insight into dealing with these kinds of situations. Wisdom with old age and all that. Thankfully, the University isn't that far away from the Academy, so the walk there didn’t take long

It had always felt strange to me, the University. A part of me knew I would never feel at home there, while another part reminded me that dad had always hoped I’d follow in his hoofsteps as a professor or at least study there. He never quite accepted that I chose the Academy over this, but he cared enough to support me anyway. Not that any of that would make the conversation I had in mind any easier. The uneasy feeling in my gut intensified as I had to check the schedules posted on an information boards to see when he would possibly have the time to see me. Looking at the confusing schedules I felt like an initiate, obviously trying not to appear lost but failing miserably.

Good thing I don’t have to do this often.

After finally deciphering the walls of text and avoiding eye contact with any students that passed me by I made my way to library to wait until his lecture was over. I stepped through the thick wood doors of the library and looked over a small stack of books on the librarian’s desk waiting to be put back on the shelves:

Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone

No, I’m not in the mood for adventure.

Love and Tolerance Volume IV: Don’t hate them, be extra kind!

Somepony could really use this…

The Little Sunny Book – Quotations from princess Celestia

Hah, I already know it by heart!

A Brief History of Equestria

Science and history. No.

The Cutie Mark Thief

The butler did it. It’s always the butler.

Since there wasn’t anything good in the pile, I moved on and trotted randomly through the rows of bookshelves until my sight caught something interesting laying on the edge of a bookshelf. I pulled out the book. It had bright yellow covers and a feel of freshness, as if it were printed the previous day.

Locomotives and other Mechanized Contraptions of Equestria

That got my attention. I started going through the pages, of which there were not many, and with each drawing I passed the smile on my muzzle faded just a little. Before I had a chance to get to the end I heard other ponies entering the library behind me. I peered through the aisles to see the clock over the check-out desk. The lecture was over. Book in mouth I made my way toward the door.

"Excuse me!"

The librarian didn't take lightly to my attempt at simply walking out of the library. With everything that had been going on it slipped my mind that I needed to borrow the book. What can I say, it was a confusing day.

"Didn't you forget something?"

Right.

I nearly spat the book onto the counter of the check-out desk and fumbled around for my Academy Pass. Moments like this were reminders that I was walking around without a uniform, since I was technically still on leave. I brought the pass out of my saddlebags and showed it to her.

"It's OK, I'm with the Academy."

"I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way. You'll need to show me your library card."

Talk about being embarrassed. Not only had I wanted to run off with a book, I had forgotten that an Academy Pass wasn't worth much outside of the actual Academy. There was a reason we had Academy Passes and the students at the University had their own passes. Or were they special ID cards? I don't remember. At least the librarian was starting to understand just how absent-minded I was. Now that she knew it wasn't my plan to steal the book, she relaxed a little bit and possibly prepared herself to explain how a library works. I rarely blush. I reserve it for situations like this.

"Of course, sorry!" There was one more thing I could try. "I don't think I have a library card from here, but my dad works here, professor Bill Neigh. Would it be possible for me to take this and..."

She was already gently shaking her head. Her way of looking at me with slightly narrowed eyes and a gentle smile wasn't helping. Now I really did feel like a little colt.

"Of course. I don't know what I was thinking. Sorry again."

"Not a problem." There was restrained humor in her yellow eyes, but at least she was helpful. "I'll tell you what. I'll take the book and hold on to it for you until you come back with somepony who has a card. Is that OK?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you!"

"Just make sure you come back in a day at the most, or I'll have to return it."

"No problem, I'm coming back today! Bye!"

I hoofed it to my father’s office where I could at last talk to my dad. Although “talk” is such a strong word. My monologue lasted for over an hour, yet felt like seconds. I never planned to be the only one speaking, but after greeting dad and receiving the expected “What brings you here?” I started talking. And couldn’t stop.

I started with the accusation, then moved on to Pearl and how I thought I was being set up and then my brain decided to remind me of all the past injustices, no matter how small and insignificant they were. Using them as fuel for my rant, it gave me extra rage for the working of the courts that ultimately manifested in me rambling incoherently about how everyone was out to get me.

I don’t always exaggerate, but when I do…

Dad listened patiently with a worried look on his face. Well, until I started rambling.

He waited for me to finish and said with a chuckle, “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you this upset, but there’s no need to overdo it!” That broke my rage and I smiled back, slightly ashamed. He continued in a more serious voice, “Yes, this is bad. Well, it was bad. But sometimes, ponies will just want to hurt you in some way, you know that! Jealousy, fear, having a bad day; anything can make somepony act like that. What matters is that you don’t take it personally.”

I wanted to intervene with how can this not be personal if I was singled out..., but just as I raised my hoof in objection, he carried on.

“Let me finish. I don’t for one moment believe that Unicorn–“

“Manners-Mare,” I added.

“- Manners-Mare Pearl would want to do something like that. And if she did, she would make sure to throw something more than an unverifiable claim at you!”

He laughed again.

I hated how right he was. This still didn’t excuse the one who sent the letter, but it did make me feel a bit better about the whole situation. And even more stupid for trying to inject steroids into my problems.

“Now, it’s close to closing time, let’s get something to eat.”

I didn't object despite the lunch earlier. I had a pretty good idea as to where we were going and large menus were not the standard there. And in any case, I would just have two meals close together and then probably nothing until morning. My stomach was flexible like that. We were just leaving his office when I remembered the book, so I hastily asked him if he could borrow it for me. He gave me the strangest look, a mixture of disbelief and amusement. I was as surprised about the way he was looking at me as he was of my request, so I had to ask what’s wrong.

“I can’t believe you want to borrow a book.” And, after a slight pause. “Don’t you have a library at the Academy?”

I gave him an annoyed look.

“Yes, we do. But it probably doesn’t have this.”

When he saw the book his expression lightened as he sarcastically muttered something to himself about how he should have known it wasn’t going to be a novel. The librarian was already anxious to leave, so I stopped myself from replying and continued skipping through the book from where I left off last time, while dad borrowed it. I felt more than a little disappointed when I reached the end without finding the mystery machine in any of the drawings. Sure, I was just glancing over it, but you don’t just forget something so strange. Unless it really was only described in writing. Or perhaps made from one of these machines and heavily customized. Before my train of thought continued it was time to go.

The dusk lit skyline of Canterlot moved slowly around us as we made our way to the Fast Grass restaurant, disrupted only by the glow of strictly placed street lamps. Ponies of all walks of life were enjoying the fine evening. Some were lazily trotting about in pairs, others engaged in debates right on the streets. Alcohol probably played some part in that, but it was all very civilized. Very Canterlot. For the first time since returning here I felt really relaxed.

Between catching up on each other’s lives and enjoying the tranquility of the arriving night we made it there in what felt like minutes, even though the small but chic building was located on the outskirts of the city, far away from the gates and the busy center. I don’t think I’ve eaten there more than half a dozen times and never on my treat - I had no way of getting the bits for that kind of place, but the most prominent ponies in public services received vouchers to eat there every now and then in recognition of their contributions to Equestrian progress. The ornate food, served in delicately small quantities, wasn’t the only reason why I was looking forward to eating there, as the second biggest perk of going to Fast Grass was the service; the way you were greeted and treated like a prince, despite obviously not being one. And the biggest perk? Well, that was seeing the actual princes and occasionally even princesses, surrounded by important-looking ponies, enjoying the same atmosphere.

The doormare greeted us with a sweet smile and kindly informed us there was a surprise live performance of jazz this evening. Octavia and her quintet of musicians had returned from an Equestria-wide concert tour and wanted to finish it where it began, only instead of the large Canterlot concert hall, they chose a smaller venue. And, to keep it from overcrowding, had told nopony about it. Even in the small lobby, the sound of music had a visible effect on the ponies working here. They were always calm and relaxed to help create the upscale atmosphere, but this day it seemed they were moving to the music with every step and turn. It had a similar effect on the two of us, to be honest. I had all but forgotten the events of the day in light of this place. All I could think about was where we would be seated and what I would eat. I didn’t have to wait long for an answer as one of the waiters, dressed in a red and white suit with small silver decorations, approached to show us the way to our table.

After the events of the last two days, this was the best place to be.

Chapter 4 - Dodge City

Flying to Dodge was something else, and the brown overcoat I was wearing in place of my uniform was only part of the reason. The thought that I was trying too hard not to be seen had crossed my mind, both when I was buying it in town and when I was putting in on back at the hotel, but the only other options were to either go in my uniform or without anything at all, and having my cutie mark hidden was still a step in the right direction. No, the flight to Dodge was special for another reason: I had used sky-chariots before, but the taximare was doing everything in her power to undermine my confidence in them. As soon as we cleared the grassy fields around Baltimare and the city was once again a gray blur on the horizon, she turned the chariot towards the ground and gave it her all. I held on with all my strength. After the initial shock from the sudden burst of speed, I slowly came to the realization that I could make out the individual trees on the rapidly approaching forest. And then the leafs on the trees. A chill went through my spine.

What is she doing?!

I was already preparing to hunker down and curl up for the impending crash, when the mare abruptly leveled the chariot over the treetops and continued with breakneck speed. Branches rushed by, birds flew off from their nests and scattered in fear, and it was only now that I had a moment to appreciate the sensation of the wind warping my face, and that I was still in one piece. Even as we approached the Filly Hills, and the forest gave way to ever thinner shrubs as the altitude climbed, she kept us as low to the ground as possible; throwing a quick glance to both sides every now and then for any signs of life on the ground. But while she was busy executing a premeditated maneuver, I was starting to enjoy myself.

Cold currents of air cut through the ever diminishing warmth radiating from the ground, and sent refreshing shockwaves along my back, each countering the adrenaline surging through my veins. When the peaks of the hills closed in, I suddenly realized I was on my very own roller coaster - one with an unparalleled view. The only thing missing was some cotton candy and me vomiting in a trashcan. The glare of the snowcapped peaks went by too quickly, and I had a huge grin on my face as we crossed over to the other side, massive forests spreading in front of us and the tiny triangle of the Canterlot Mountain standing guard at the horizon; a white dot pinpointed the castle. A river flashed by below us at some point, before more speeding treetops appeared, but then the scenery around us started changing.

The trees grew rarer and I could feel gentle grains of dust getting caught in my fur and mane. A warm wind replaced the cool air of the mountains as the desert came fully into view; en endless field of orange-brown stretching to the horizon. The taximare slowed down the further away from the Filly Hills we were, then stopped entirely, nearly landing the chariot on the dried up ground below. Before I could ask anything, she started a gentle climb, using the forest in the distance behind as the cover for making it look like we were just taking off. As we rose higher, a series of sharp shapes came into view, rising from the light brown dust of the desert.

Dodge City.

It was an optimistic name. Dodge was nothing more than a town with a comically oversized statue of… something at its center. The buildings were spread in a circle around it; small and submissive against the statue, as if they were bowing to it. A single desolate road went into the town, hugging the statue all around before ending at the salvage yard just out of town. There was only one thing I couldn't really discern - there were sharp rectangular silhouettes in the desert grass around the town. If the town were surrounded by fields, I would have thought some artsy pony had made those shapes by flattening the wheat, but seeing as this was a desert it was less probable. Not that I had much time to study them. We landed on the edge of Dodge and I started walking away from the chariot, determined to meet up with whomever had sent me the message, when I was stopped by the voice of the taximare.

“You should at least pretend you’re paying me.”

Huh?

I looked back and saw the curious expression on her face, as if she had expecting me to do that. Even in hindsight, I can't say I was wrong. Not only was the flight pre-arranged, it was common practice to pay in advance when it came to longer trips - such as this one. There was no point in arguing over it at the time, though. I was wary enough of unwanted attention as it was.

“Of course, I’m sorry! My mistake.” I quickly turned, putting myself directly between the statue and the taximare as I pretended to count the coins.

Might as well ask…

“Are there any contacts in the town?”

The taximare looked at me, stunned, before saying, “I’m just the flier.” Her eyes went wide and she lifted her eyebrows as she slowly added, “You do know what you’re doing, right?”

“Of course I do!” I gave her a quick, overly enthusiastic smile, “Thank you for getting me here; can you come back for me in the evening – let’s say at six?” I made sure to say the last part out loud to help my act as a tourist, in case anypony was listening. Or in case whoever had arranged the flight wasn't as good-intentioned as I had assumed.

The taximare nodded. With a simple, “Deal!” she turned the chariot around for takeoff, which was my cue to make my way to the most obvious tourist trap since that half-useless dam over Ponyville. The giant statue was surrounded by generic wood-paneled buildings of the wild south, including a saloon and a barber shop. But those weren’t the reason I was now confused. That had to do with what I was looking at. I just couldn’t make out the intended shape that the twisted steel beams, levers and occasional sprocket were meant to form. I squinted hard, and still the best I could come up with was that it was an abstract pony of some kind; misshapen to the point of grotesque. Or it was just a pile of scrap put together as a statue - I couldn't really tell. As I circled it, I noticed that the back of the statue was partially covered in steel that must have come from a cut-apart locomotive boiler. The whole thing was covered in rusting black paint.

At least I know they have locomotives to spare. That's a start.

“That there’s Hoofaestus,” a raspy voice from behind told me.

I turned to see an old orange pony with a beige mane looking at me, patched-up saddlebags strapped to the side. He was standing at a slight angle, kind of like he had stopped mid-limp, but a more reasonable guess was that his posture was a result of bones slowly giving way to old age and hard work.

“Protector of the forges and ponies who work in ‘em,” he finished.

“The forges?” I asked, certain I would have noticed them on my way here. I threw a quick glance at the buildings around us on the off chance I had missed them from the sky.

The old pony let out a short laugh and shook his head. “No. There aren’t any around anymore. But there used to be. Just like there used to be more ponies here. But I’m bein’ rude - my name’s Desert Carrot!” With that he extended his foreleg and rapidly shook my hoof as soon as I did the same. When he finally stopped to let me speak, I was already prepared to continue the act. I started with a wide, big-city-colt comes to the wild kind of smile.

“I’m Steel Ink, and I’m…”

“No, yer not.”

The way he kept his smile while saying that made it all the more menacing. Back in Baltimare, I had slowly prepared my cover while delivering the mail, and was ready for just about any scenario and any question. My hometown, my job, my reason for being here – even a fake birthplace and family; I had it all prepared in advance, even if it was all very much superficial. But being called out as soon as I presented myself? That was the spanner in the works. I never did make a good liar. While I frantically searched for a scenario that made sense, he just stared at me, the smile still on his face, with a touch of mischief mixing in.

“Come on; let’s get out of the Sun.”

I felt a pang of doubt whether I should follow him or not, but seeing as how my cover was blown so early on, it seemed pointless to refuse. If he was going to turn me over to the Guards, he sure had an elegant way of doing it, but something about the relaxed way in which he called my bluff told me that wasn’t the case. I followed him into one of the buildings nearby. Before the door closed behind me, I had already scanned the room for any possible threats and exits - trust or no trust, my training wouldn't have it any other way. The small living room we were in was full of metal sculptures, framed and nailed to a wall or sitting on one of the many shelves. They shared their space with pictures of what I assumed were his friends and family. The ripped couch and splinted furniture completed the décor. While I was eying-up the place, he trotted past me, over to a table, and grabbed a small note. Even from a distance, it looked quite a lot like the note I had received at the hotel. The size and color of the note were too similar not to be. He calmly read it.

“You’re getting a visitor from Canterlot…”

I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing. Everything was there: my name, who I was, how I looked, even why I was in Dodge.

“There are ponies who believe your heart is in the right place,” he concluded and waited for a moment to hear my reply, but I couldn’t muster anything other than an unknowing nod. “So, you want to know about the Flim-Flam brothers?” He didn't wait for an answer, although the look on my face probably told him everything he needed to know. “Let’s go see the Squeezy then, shall we?”

I could physically feel the weight of uncertainty being lifted from my chest; rapidly replaced by the excitement of seeing the machine. The time from the door opening to us leaving the statue behind went by instantly. The large brick building of the salvage yard was looming in the distance ahead and my mind raced with questions and possibilities of the machine I was about to see and, more importantly, what reasons I would learn were behind all the secrecy. I could already make out the empty patch of land between the last building of the town and the salvage yard, and I picked up my pace to a fast walk, when I heard Carrot calling out from behind.

“Where do ya think yer goin’?” I looked back to see him standing next to one of the wooden buildings, watching me with a smirk. I looked once more at the salvage yard before turning back and meeting up with him. When I was by his side once more, he quietly asked, “You didn’t think they would keep it at the most obvious place in all of Equestria, now did you?”

I let out a quiet sigh. Of all the things I could get fooled by, subterfuge this simple was the worst. A feeling of guilt formed as a sharp stab to my stomach, but I pushed it aside, just as I did with the accompanying thought that I was a Guard in the making and that I should have known better. But there would be time to mull that over some other time. I gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged. He turned to a narrow passage between two buildings and went in. I followed suit, but on the other side, I got a single warning.

“Don’t trip.”

On what?

There was nothing but desert grass in front of me, but I had a nagging feeling that I was about to make a fool of myself again if I didn’t think things through this time, so I entered the grassy field one step at a time. The answer to my own question came next as my hoof made contact with something solid. I brushed the grass away and saw a low wall of sand cutting a straight line through the ground. A crumbling brick was exposed in the part where I had struck it, the sand already moving with the gentle breeze to cover it up again. The tall grass around the wall had made a good job of hiding it until the last moment. But now that I knew what to look for, I looked around and saw the barely noticeable shadows of other such walls spreading ahead like a maze.

The forges?

Cities in ruins were hard to come by in Equestria. If anything, the cities were either growing or adapting; slowly transforming to keep up in with the few changes in the pony lifestyle. New settlements were formed where necessary, but that was about it. To see what must have been a thriving city recede back was unheard of, and a part of me wanted to investigate the issue further, but there was one thing even more important than that. Somewhere between these ruins was the reason for my trip here. At least, that was what I hoped. I looked up to search for Desert Carrot and saw that he was already a short way ahead. He was moving in a pattern that seemed outright weird, even though I quickly guessed the reason for it. He was walking on old streets, between the buildings of the forges. To someone watching from afar, it looked like the old stallion was drunkenly crossing a field of grass to nowhere. Not wanting to be too far behind, I went into a trot, already preparing the timing of my steps to avoid the tiny walls in my path, when he raised his voice to deliver another warning.

“Don't! You'll tumble down a cellar! The doors won't hold you.”

That brought me to a standstill. I struggled to find a way to see where the cellars might be. The best I could come up with were some mostly barren squares of sand where the cellar doors might have been. Some of the squares had barely sprouting strands of grass on them; there were tall ones on others, with only their scarcity revealing that they had not been there for as long as the grass around the town's outskirts. The cellars had been opened, but not all at once, and that made me wonder how many unopened ones were still hidden beneath the grass around me. Another question had to do with how strong the actual ceilings of the cellars were and which of the ruins ahead even had them. The streets were a safer bet, and once I caught up with Carrot, we went on. Our walk through the ruins got slower and slower and I soon noticed Carrot casually eying the surrounding area, looking for signs of any curious ponies looking at us. Something wasn’t quite clear though, so I had to ask.

“What about the ponies in Dodge? Won’t they see us?”

Without a moment’s hesitation I got the answer. “Yup, but it doesn’t matter.” He shifted his gaze to the ground nearby, as if searching for something and slowed down even more. “As far as they’re concerned, I’m lookin’ for things to salvage. So as long as nopony's watchin' out every move...”

“What do you do exactly?” It was about time I asked that.

“I find things from old times and bring 'em to the yard to be repurposed.” The way he pronounced that last word and raised his eyebrows made me wonder what was so special about that, but first I wanted to see the machine, so I put the question in the mental pile with all the other things I would have to ask.

We came to a full stop in front of a square patch of desert - and I do mean desert. There was only sand and stones on it. Carrot strained his eyes and lowered his head to find something in the ground, but I was the one who noticed it first. A single string, running along the edge of the grass, just a hair above the sand and disappearing under the sand covered bricks of another relic. I pointed it out, and received a slow nod in return. We carefully stepped over it and stopped once more.

“There’s handles on the sides, grab one.” He started clearing away the sand from the bottom edge of the door, with me following suit at the top. Rusted steel peered through the sand, and the handles, cut into the frames of the door, followed suit. We pulled on the levers and pushed the door sideways into the frame. The stairs led down into…

Sand?

The start of a steel staircase was the only thing protruding from the sand in the basement. There was just enough room for a pony or two in the confined space below. I looked at Carrot, expecting him to burst out laughing at any moment, but he stood next to me as relaxed as ever.

“Go on.”

Well… I didn’t come this far for nothing.

I stepped over the doorframe and descended into the ground, my hooves sinking deep into the sand. He pulled a torch from his saddlebag and followed me in. With a loud click, the doors slid back into place just above our heads and a flash of light from the torch cut though the darkness. Before my eyes could adjust to it, the sand beneath us shifted; receding ever further to reveal the remainder of the stairs and the basement below. In a matter of seconds, I caught the glimpse of a large sheet, deformed by the strange lines of a very particular machine, as it emerged from the disappearing sand. I moved my leg forward, to start my descent, but a nudge from the side brought me out of my fixation. With a glance, I saw Desert Carrot looking proudly at the staircase below us. I followed his stare and saw the sea of sand below getting lower and lower, seemingly disappearing into the ground itself, until if reached the floor of the basement. And then it vanished into it.

Huh?

I'd seen magic before, but nothing quite like that before. Suddenly I no longer felt quite like such an idiot for trying to look for the machine at the salvage yard. With cautious steps, I descended the stairs, and it was only when I was about to step onto the floor that I noticed the small grates that hid the drainage system. As I marveled for a moment at the effort that went into hiding the machine, Carrot walked past me to a box on a nearby wall and pulled a switch. White light flooded the room. I whirled around and saw that it was coming from oddly long glass lamps near the ceiling.

“Ready?”

The question brought me back to the machine. Carrot moved over to its side, ready to pull off the cover, and I wasted no time in joining him on the other side. I grabbed it with my mouth and we gave it a tug, then continued pulling on it slowly to stop it ripping on the many odd shapes on the machine. When I felt the cover suddenly go light, and a loud flop echoed from behind, as the cover collapsed to the ground, the machine was revealed; as shiny and exciting as the day I first saw it - even if it was a bit dusty. If anything, the lack of all the lights and sounds it was producing in Ponyville made it seem even more unusual.

Strange glass tubes, once filled with lightning, looked like ornaments on a stage prop. Steel chimneys and modified barrels protruded from the glaringly red structure on wheels. In the center sat some kind of an apparatus, with a few dials and a glass cover. I didn’t even have a chance to think about the lounge chair attached at the front with all that to take in, but I was at least partially right in my guess that had brought me here. The wheels, the lights and even entire metal sections were taken straight from a locomotive. As for the other parts? I had no idea. Apart from the barrels. I knew they were barrels, at least on the outside. I don’t know how much time I spent taking in all the various details, but I must have circled the machine a dozen times, always finding something new to admire. Desert Carrot kept by the side, casually leaning against a wall and chewing tobacco.

“So… What does it do?” I finally managed to ask.

“Well, it makes cider.” If the tone didn’t give away that that was only a half-truth, the smirk on his face did.

I returned the favor. “I saw that. What else?”

There was no way a machine this large and complex would be used to merely make cider, even if that was what the brothers were using to compete with the Apple family. There had to be something more. From what I knew, Earth ponies wouldn't have had much of a problem competing against a machine that made cider - that was what they were best at. The Unicorns would need to put in more work to get the same results as Earth ponies when it came to making food, and even making a machine to make it wouldn't mean much if they needed magic to power it. They'd just be taking the same effort and spreading it differently - the result would still be the same. That's why you don't see Unicorns in flying machines.

He briefly looked at the ground, and back at me, before saying in a tone that implied I had missed something important, “That's it.”

If he'd said that in any other way, I would have thought I'd offended him by accidentally dismissing the machine as unimpressive. Yet, something about the way he was looking at me, as a teacher drawing a question out of a student, and almost knowing it will be the right one, left me with only one way to reply.

“Why?”

“Because it's so much better to make it this way.”

That wasn't even an answer.

“But with magic-”

“Magic?” he cut me off. “It ain't magic that's powerin' this device.” He pointed at it. “It's electricity.”

“What?” I asked in a flat tone, blinking once.

I could see he had expected me to react to that as I did, but my question wasn’t that out of place. The stuff was practically useless, except for a machine here or there to do the tedious work that would inconvenience a Unicorn. But all those machines were built on Celestia's order to lighten the load of the common ponies. Other than that, the three races could easily do anything we needed to do by working together. We barely had any electrical machinery at the Royal Guard - even the castle in Canterlot was lit by candles, and here I was supposed to believe they used electricity for something us Earth ponies could do by ourselves? It didn’t add up.

“Electricity.” He pointed to the grates in the ground. “What did you think made the sand disappear – magic?”

Yes.

“There’s one good thing that you can do with it that you can’t with magic,” he continued as I put a hoof in the air to get a word in. “You can make it. No need for Unicorns or gems. And you’d be surprised what else it can be used for.”

I thought back to the day in Ponyville, when I saw the brothers and the machine for the first time. There was something in that memory that I was sure would put a quick end to his made-believe story.

“Flim and Flam are unicorns, aren't they?”

“Yes, and you probably saw them using their magic to turn the generator and control the arm. The rest was done by the apple mill inside. And that’s powered by electricity. Same as the lights here.”

He was sticking to it and the whole thing was getting too technical for my liking. My lack of expertise on the subject of engineering was well and truly showing. Moreover, I couldn’t wrap my head around the whole idea of using electricity for something as mundane as cider making. Or lighting. There had to be a way to get to the truth. At the same time, I felt slightly curious as to how far he would be able to go in his persuasion. I glanced at the lights and the machine, keeping my eyes on both a split second longer than required to make sure he saw what I was doing, and then looked at him.

“So, why aren’t we using it for everything?” I forced my lips tight to conceal the smile that wanted to form. If there was anything I knew, it was that the answer was going to be interesting, either by being overly elaborate or evasive; prepared in advance in any case.

“Well, we used to, but not anymore. Not for a long time. Now when somepony finds a rusty machine they don’t understand, it makes its way to the yard. But there’s a whole heap of the old stuff still scattered all over Equestria. You just have to know where to look.” His tone went from cautious and hushed-like to ever more prideful. “And it’s my job to find ‘em. Then I see if there’s anything that looks like it could work…” He went quiet and tilted his muzzle to the machine behind us.

I was struggling to come up with anything to counter with. It wasn’t so much about what he was saying, but the lack of any telltale signs of lying in the way he said it that made me freeze. Truth or not, he genuinely believed what he told me.

“Take a good look at it - it's done its job, so we're gonna scrap it.”

“Why?!” I involuntarily raised my voice. No matter how far-fetched the explanation was, is was still a unique machine that could have been placed in an art museum. And if the explanation was true, it made even less sense. Mayor Mare's words gave me something to complete the question. “I thought they wanted to sell it?”

“What? Who told you that?” For once I had succeeded in surprising him, but he quickly regained his jovial composure. “Doesn't matter. No, no. We're not sellin' it. We made it for one reason, and one reason alone: we wanted to see how many ponies would try to find it. We went to as many towns in Equestria with it as we could.” You could hear the mix of satisfaction and sadness in his voice as he spoke. “Enough ponies have seen it. But that also means too many ponies have seen it.”

“So what was it - a rolling commercial?”

He laughed. “No, no, no. Well, in a way yes, but no.” This wasn’t helping with my confusion. He contemplated for a few seconds, brushing his chin with his hoof, before saying in a cautious, slow tone, “What do you know about the Mechanized Era?”

The Mechanized Era? My blank stare revealed the thought.

“That’s what I figured. Help me out, will ya?”

He turned around and grabbed the cover. As soon as I saw what he was doing, my mind got flooded. It was amazing how many things I suddenly wanted to know about the machine, now that it was time to hide it back.

Who helped him build it? Where did they build it - in the salvage yard? How did they get Princess Celestia to approve it - for what purpose? What are the going to make out of it? Why wouldn't they sell it if it was so good at making cider?...

With the way Carrot had so far either predicted or reacted to my actions, I knew it would be a waste of time to voice any of the questions I now had, so I grabbed the other end and helped guide the cover back into place and when it was once again gracefully showing off the strange structure beneath it, I took a step back and looked at it; wondering if I would ever see it again and knowing that I was about to learn things that were far more mysterious than the machine itself. Carrot motioned for me to leave and walked to the stairs. As soon as I joined him, he lit the torch and pulled the switch to turn off the lights. The door clicked open and the room filled up with sand as we climbed the stairs back to the desert.

“Watch out for the wire.”

“I know. So what’s the Mechanized Era?”

We slowly walked back to Dodge, again following the paths between the ruins. I was by his side, keeping a step short of being neck-and-neck so I could follow his path without walking behind him. I wanted to keep all my focus on what he was saying rather than having to keep looking for the next turn.

“There used to be more than 40,000 ponies living here,” he said, as I looked around at the shadows of old buildings, “Now there's less than 500 left.”

It was only now that I noticed something. The building of the salvage yard was the only brick structure still standing. They built new Dodge over the ruins of the old one.

“What happened?”

I didn’t get a reply to that, so I asked again. Carrot continued walking dead straight. Then, as if I hadn’t said anything, he asked back, “You have to go back to Canterlot soon, right?”

“Yes, tomorrow morning. Why?”

“Okay.”

The answer stopped me in my tracks for a moment and I nudged my head sideways in a jolt. His sudden refusal to even acknowledge my questions was starting to annoy me, but that’s when I heard the sound of hooves clopping against the road in the town. The ponies, wherever they’d been before, had come out of hiding and were strolling about town. The answer would have to wait until we were back at his house, so I followed him through the passage between the buildings, and back onto the main road, ready to head back to the house.

“Carrot!” came a high pitched shout from behind. We quickly turned around to see the source – a lime green mare was fast approaching.

“Hello Radiant!” Carrot replied. The jagged voice in which he said that and the overly enthusiastic smile he was trying to force made it clear he hadn’t expected the encounter. Now he just wanted to get the inevitable conversation out of the way as soon as possible.

Speaking with a strong, fluid country accent, she asked, “What are you up to? And who’s the gentlecoat you’ve kidnapped?” She looked at me with her dark green eyes and now I was the one sweating.

“Good afternoon, I’m-”

“This is mister Steel Ink,” Carrot interrupted me before I had a chance to impress the local. With the attention shifted back to him, I witnessed how quickly he was able to make up a story on the fly. “He’s a safety inspector from Baltimare – those paper-pushers don’t trust me lookin’ out for myself when I’m treasure huntin’.” A condescending glance toward me sealed the deal.

Damn, he made it sound believable.

I had nothing else to do but to play along, so I took a step in her direction, as I’d seen any Canterlot officials do when they’re proving their might, and addressed her in an official tone I didn’t even know I had up until then. “And I’m very happy to see that everything is in order. Now it’s just a case of finishing the paperwork!” I never knew I could pull off such an act. At least the mare bought it.

“Well, then I’d better leave you two gentlecolts to your business. I sure wouldn’t want to intrude.” She bowed gently, again looking me directly in the eyes and slowly went about her business again. We breathed a sigh of relief and stepped up the pace to the house.

As we rounded the statue, I was surprised to see the taximare already waiting for me just outside of town. She pranced around nervously; she had clearly been waiting for me. Did she even get back to Baltimare? For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. Looking at her, I could see the uneasiness with which she was waiting, which implied I should have gone to her immediately. Only the thought of not getting my questions answered kept me pinned to the spot.

“Come ‘ere, I wanna show you somethin’,” Carrot unknowingly solved my dilemma as he pointed at his house.

He didn’t give me a chance to ask him anything, when we got inside. Instead, he murmured that he’ll be right back and disappeared through a door in the living room, leaving me turning in place from the ever increasing battle between my desire to learn more and the knowledge I had to leave as soon as possible. My ears peaked at the noise coming from the other room. Drawers were being opened, boxes and what sounded like entire pieces of furniture were moved about, and all the while I kept guessing what it was that Carrot was searching for. A map? A key? Another hidden door? He returned with a book.

“Somethin’ for you to read on the train.”

And that was that. Not quite sure if there was something else I should do, I thanked him, put the book in my saddlebag and offered a hoofshake before leaving. He closed the door behind me and I made my way to the waiting taximare, very much wondering what I had done wrong to get a book out of an adventure such as this.

“Hurry, we have to go!” was the first thing she said as I approached. She didn’t outright shout, as that would draw attention from the ponies nearby, but the sharpness of her tone was more than enough to bring the point across. I got into the chariot without question and we set off.

Even from the start this wasn’t the same trip as coming here. Instead of waiting to be at least a little bit out of town before speeding up, she made a running start for the skies. And even though we were flying fast on our way here, it was nothing compared to how we were flying now. The previously graceful but strong turns and altitude changes became sharp and aggressive, and I found myself grabbing for the rails in the chariot for support. The desert ground turned to forests, the forests to mountains and it was only when the cold wind started slicing at my face that I managed to ask what was going on.

“They’re looking for you!” came a shout from the front.

Oh no.

I instantly regretted my trip to Dodge. Not only had I not learned anything, apart from some vague notion about a Mechanized Era, whatever that meant, but the machine I was looking for was on its way to being destroyed and the only one who knew something about it was also convinced that electricity was better than magic. The last part of that revelation struck me the most. Carrot is just insane. Or bored. The enthusiasm with which I had looked at the machine was quickly eroding and in its place came a single question. How much trouble am I going to get into for going off on adventures? My last encounter with Pearl was still fresh in my mind. There was one thing that could get me out of trouble, though.

“Do you know where the dance school is?” I shouted at her. If there ever was a need for leaning on old friends, this was it.

“Which one?”

Damn! I hadn’t asked Silverline about the name of her place, but there was one more option.

“The mare! You took her home before the hotel!” The turbulent air and the urgency of the situation really didn’t allow for any more detailed explanations.

She understood my request, even if I didn’t finish saying it. The Sun was getting lower on the horizon as we approached Baltimare at low altitude, only this time we didn’t climb to make it seem like we were taking off, but continued at full speed at an altitude so low, I could have probably picked a few flowers off the ground if I were heading to a date. Not that I had any desire to do something like that at the time. I was far too busy seeking out any buildings and rouge signs that threatened to take us out of the sky in the style of a bloody pancake and wondering if she had seen them or not. Then gripping every part of the chariot I could get my hooves on with more force than I thought possible as she dodged them.

An abrupt halt near a familiar building was all that was needed for my scaredy-cat look to be complete. Every hair on my body was standing on edge, my pupils were as small as ladybugs and my mane and tail were a mess, only that last part was mostly down to the gusts of wind every time we changed direction. Now, finally on solid ground, my body wanted to take some time to shake itself to pieces, but that wasn’t an option.

“Do you see it?”

“Y-yes,” I barely replied as the taximare quickly took off and disappeared into the city.

I automatically looked around to see if anypony had seen us land, but the moment I moved my head, I realized the pointlessness of doing that. This was a large city, full of tall buildings and countless ponies walking the streets. The chances of not being seen were microscopic, so the only things left to do was to hope nopony cared enough to take notice - this was a big city after all. I rushed to the apartment complex where Silverline lived and nearly jumped through the door. As soon as I closed it, I took off my coat and looked at the list of tenants on the wall. A short walk up the stairs later, I gently knocked on her door.

Please, be here!

There was no response. I knocked again, and at the same time felt my heart beating faster.

Damn!

There was only silence on the other side of the door. At this point Plan B should have stepped into action – if I had made one. It was time to improvise, and the first step to that was to gallop back to the Greenlit and make something up on the way. I ran down the stairs, opened the door to the street and nearly hit Silverline in the muzzle.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” I blabbered out.

She gasped and recoiled back. There was more than a trace of fear in her stare. Nopony expects their recently met-again friend to appear inside their apartment building like that, and the wide grin on my face just added to the strangeness of it all. I knew I should say something to comfort her, but the giant weight that was now lifted off my chest meant I was far too busy enjoying the fact that I’d met her at all. When she saw I was merely standing there, creepily smiling at her, she carefully replied.

“Yeah. Um.” She held her head slightly sideways as she talked, the uneasiness of the situation she was in showing in her nearly stuttering voice. “No problem. What are you doing here?”

There was no time for an in-depth explanation, even if what I was about to ask of her required it.

“I need a favor.” Before I got an answer, I was already stepping outside

“Sure, what’s wrong?”

There was still a tone of nervousness in her voice, but I had no alternatives. It was this way or the harder way. I calmly took a step forward, and calmly said, with no more of a sense of urgency than if I were spelling out a list of things I was asking her to buy, “I need you to go with me to the Greenlit and if anypony asks, we were together the whole day.” The reaction was predictable.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I'll explain on the way. Please.”

“Okay, let me just drop these,” she pointed at her saddlebags, “And I have to brush my-”

“There's no time for that. Trust me, you look fine, and I can take those if you want.”

She nodded and we started walking to the first road where we could find a chariot to the Greenlit, although she kept the saddlebags on herself - not that I expected her to part with them, as I wouldn't have parted with mine if anypony offered the same. I hated myself for dragging her into my problems and I made a silent vow to repay her kindness with interest. But I genuinely didn’t have any other options - if I knew the Royal Guards, and I did, they had already checked with those I had delivered the mail to and had already figured out I finished my assignment early. Having somepony to give me an alibi was the only way to avoid whatever sanctions were waiting for me. There were only two things I was certain of: that Manners-Mare Pearl had it out for me, and that the Academy wouldn't bother to probe into the issue of my disappearance further the moment I had somepony to vouch for me. Now, if it were another Specialist, they would dissect his story to each individual second, but a civilian - a mare even - would stop their investigation faster than if I'd admitted where I'd gone. A slap on the hoof was the most that would come of this, I was certain.

She wasn’t entirely comfortable with what I'd asked her to do, but on the way to finding a chariot, my nervousness had returned as well. It was all very well coming up with the plan we were now enacting; trusting somepony else with their part was something entirely different, so I did the only thing I could to make her feel better about the whole ordeal. I started by briefly explaining my predicament - the events in Canterlot, my trip to Dodge and how she would help me get out of a ridiculous punishment for leaving the city. I left the Squeezy, and everything else I'd seen in Dodge, out of it, though. After that, I turned the conversation around to more everyday topics, although this part was meant more for my own fears than hers. I went into details of the things we discussed the previous evening, I talked about the stale jokes I was getting from the mail recipients. All in all, by the time we reached the chariot, we were talking as normally as the day before.

When we got closer to the Greenlit, I started sneaking glances at the ponies walking past it, then at the windows of nearby buildings. So far, so good. There wasn't a Guard in sight. At the gates to the hotel, I paid the taxipony for the trip and we stepped off from the chariot.

“Now, remember, just say I came to see you at the school when you were done and that I walked you home.” The timing didn't work out entirely, but I could justify the rest by the walk to the dance school and taking detours on the way.

“Okay,” she said with newfound anxiety.

“It's going to be fine, I promise,” I reassured her, as we stepped through gates of the hotel.

She let out a quiet gasp at the sight of the luxurious lobby of the hotel and I saw her eyes go wide. I felt a strange feeling of joy and pride that I could show her something she hadn't experienced before - me, a mere Specialist to a big-city mare! But the moment of pride quickly vanished as I remembered why we were here in the first place. I started pointing my muzzle at various directions, saying things such as, “And that's the dining hall...” as if I were showing her around, while in reality checking for any signs of trouble. When I'd gone through the whole lobby, there was only one thing bothering me.

There's nopony here.

Nopony that would be looking for me anyway; there were only the usual staff and well-dressed ponies walking about. I did a double take of the whole lobby and, sure enough, everything was normal. With the thread of danger gone and Silverline next to me, looking like she was about to sprain her eyes from all the glamor around her, there was only one thing I could think of to celebrate the way things had turned out and thank her for wanting to help me, even if I didn't need it in the end. I summoned the most elegant voice I could muster.

“How would you like to join me for dinner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “So, this was your plan all along?”

“No! No,” I chuckled, “I really thought I needed your help. But, since we're here, we might as well enjoy it, right?”

She blushed and looked away for a moment, not believing a word I'd just said. Still, when she turned back to me, the answer was a solid, “Yes.”

She stepped to my side and we walked slowly toward the door to the dining hall, heads raised high as if we were among the aristocracy that moved past us; a Specialist looking like he'd just been in a tornado and a wide-eyed mare at his side, saddlebags and all. If there was one way to look out-of place in a hotel like the Greenlit, we'd discovered it.

“Specialist Neigh?” the receptionist called out as we were about to pass by.

“Yes?”

“I have a letter for you.”

The envelope she was holding had the distinct marks of an urgent order from the Academy.

No.

Chapter 5 - Strange Writings

With all the grace of an angry colt throwing his toys into the toy box after being scolded for not cleaning up his room, I stuffed my saddlebags full and hurried down to the reception to return the keys to my room. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about what must have been going through Silverline’s mind a few minutes ago. She was dazed and confused when I asked her to lie for me, she was star struck when we got to the hotel, and she was doing her best to hide the shock and disappointment when I hurriedly apologized and had her sent home the moment I read the letter.

“Thank you for staying…”

The words of the receptionist faded away as anger built up inside me. When I saw her lips had stopped moving, and her stare turn from practiced-warm to questioning, I spoke back the words that were expected of me. I thanked her and said goodbye, not that I thought much about what I was saying. As long as I did the right thing, everything was fine. The overdone smile on my muzzle matched my behavior perfectly.

There was only one pony I wanted to see when I stepped out of the hotel and onto the dusk-lit streets of the city. I looked down the street in both ways and even at the sky, as Pegasi have a tendency to fly everywhere they go, but I was left disappointed. A chariot did appear in front of me, but it was pulled by a hazel brown Earth pony. The trip back to the station wasn’t going to be as enjoyable as it could have been, nor was I going to get any answers or theories about my sudden departure.

“To the train station,” I said with a tone of urgency and command as I was climbing into the chariot.

The stallion glanced back at me with a forced smile to hide the nervousness in his eyes. It wasn’t like Baltimare to jump in a chariot without so much as a polite question of whether it was available. It wasn’t like the Greenlit to use the kind of tone I had used. It wasn’t like anything, to be honest, but I wasn’t coarse for the sake of lauding it over other ponies.

“10 bits and 20 minutes,” he said as I sat down, completely missing my uniform and its implications.

I flashed the DS ticket and made one final sweep of my surroundings just in case I missed the taximare that had taken me to Dodge as the stallion nodded and set his eyes on the road ahead. I didn’t see the taximare, but some of the ponies walking nearby caught my eye. I could see their manes shifting, kind of like they had just looked away in a hurry.

What the…

I looked away and started calming myself by thinking about how absurd it would have been for them to be spying on me like that. It was all kinds of crazy to think that I was being watched for making a small transgression. It was another one in a time span of a few days, sure, but I wasn’t some high-profile criminal. The reasoning worked right up to the point when I took a second glance back at the odd ponies.

Not one of them looked back at me, even though I was outright staring at them by now. Instead, they made sure to look intently at whatever was in their line of sight or to enthusiastically continue the conversation with the pony next to them, if they had one. Those ponies were informants, no doubt about it, and not very stealthy ones at that. Somepony high up had it in for me and I had a good hunch it was a certain Manners Mare. Apart from the question of why they would waste valuable – or not so valuable, it would seem – resources to make sure I came back to Canterlot to face the music, there was only one other question that kept chipping away at my mind - how seriously was she taking this?

Of all the things I went through in the years of training, having to listen to lectures on how to behave myself in public was the most annoying part. I understood the underlying need for it – it would be silly for the Royal Guards to dress like the protectors of Equestria and then act with whatever etiquette they were raised with, but having such a strict line of conduct that was taught to us every week was another matter. Adventurous spirit, even in one’s free time, was clearly not tolerated, even if that wasn’t written outright in the rules of conduct. And now I was asked to urgently report back to Canterlot, with no further explanation provided.

So, last time it was slandering Celestia, what will it be this time?

Initial anger and the later confusion aside, I was taking this whole thing as a game. I did something the MM didn’t like, she tried to put me in my place and so forth, only now I knew her game and was ready to face whatever she could throw at me. Cocky would be an appropriate word.

”You have done your job so efficiently, you went sightseeing – floor mopping for a month!”

Shining streetlights and glowing windows of the buildings along the road passed by me as I kept thinking of newer and ever more elaborate accusations and punishments in the chariot, all the while observing the unusually quiet city and bouncing my thoughts around. A white cloud of smoke, transformed by nearby lamps into a glowing fog, signaled the train station in the distance. The locomotive of the train that would take me back to Canterlot was already warming up its boiler.

I wasn’t entirely sure if I could once again count on having a comfy bed in the end carriage, what with the urgency of my departure. Maybe I’d have to sleep with the other ponies, or maybe that carriage was fully booked as well. The uncertainty kept me toying with the idea of paying for a sky-chariot to someplace halfway home, then taking a local train for the final leg of the journey. I’d done it before, but that was the result of my missing the train, and rushing to return back to Canterlot on time. Now, though, it was different.

Why not go back to the hotel and take the chariot tomorrow?

I mused at the thought, regardless of how unrealistic it was. The orders to leave the Greenlit were clear, so I’d have to find someplace to stay – bearing the cost of air travel was manageable from time to time; staying at the Greenlit was another thing altogether. How much did a lunch cost in there? Or just breakfast?

Thinking about things like that was strange, to say the least. I knew the meals were being paid for, but they were as much a part of my assignment as the train ride. The Academy really was spoiling us silly with treats like these. Just as I was about to shift my thoughts to how all these privileges could just as easily be stripped away in a day or so, the taxipony stopped at the station. New arrivals were looking for a ride into the city, and I could see the stallion suppress a nervous glance at me. He didn’t dare outright telling me to get off, but then I didn’t have a reason to test his patience.

I got off the chariot as fast as I could and made my way to the train, where my fears were realized. Standing on the platform, I could make out eartips at every window and ponies walking down carriages, luggage in tow, to find an empty space. I glanced at the back of the train and saw that the private sleeper carriage was missing altogether.

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. A strange chill went down my bones and the temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees for that moment. I shook my head as soon as it stopped and started walking again.

On the upside, I knew I won’t be bored stiff on the way back to Canterlot. On the downside, that meant I was inevitably going to bump into somepony on the train who was overly enthusiastic about the Royal Guards – there’s always one on board, and as much as it’s fun to talk about the finer points of getting up early and training and studying, while maintaining perfect discipline, to the good stallions and mares who are interested, you always got those ponies as well. The ones who had wanted to join the Royal Guards but were just too late to do so or had a strange deformity that I wouldn’t know of and therefore couldn’t join. But you know what they say, self-deception is best deception, or something like that.

I went past the first carriages to find one that didn’t look like it was full, and by the second-to-last carriage I had found one that had heads missing in the windows. The usual surprised glances followed as soon as I entered, and I even managed to find a free bench to sit on. So far, so normal. There was a middle aged stallion sitting on the bench in front of me. He started eying me every few seconds. I had found the pony. Good thing I had a new book to read for when it would be time to zone him out; one that I only now had a chance to really look over.

Hearth's Warming Eve Revisited

Some gift this was. I already knew the story behind the Hearth's Warming Eve from the Pageants we had every year and I was never really all that into history books in the first place. Just as I put the book aside, I felt the carriage shake and the train belched out a cloud of smoke. A light jolt completed the indication that we were on the way. Only something wasn’t quite right.

Some ponies were craning their heads out of the windows and muttering concerns to each other. I looked around and was about to lean over to the mare in the bench next to mine to ask what was going on, when the carriage came to a sudden stop. Those who were casually sitting on the edges of their benches fell off and flailed to the ground. Gasps and wide-eyed looks spread across the train.

“Pardon for the inconvenience,” the conductor entered the carriage and apologized to the passengers who were looking at him with murder on their minds. He then turned to me. “We had to add a carriage to the assembly – whenever you please.”

He might have given me a wide smile, but the others weren’t so happy. If they were willing to skewer him for the discomfort and even pain this had caused them, how much hope did I have of having even a remotely normal ride now that they knew why the train had stopped so abruptly for?

I got out of the carriage. Fast. And it was in the cozy confines of the sleeper carriage that the day finally caught up to me.

The moment I took off my saddlebags I felt the need to plop down on the bed. I was exhausted. Once again, I could feel the tension in my legs and I started suspecting that regular exhaustion wasn’t the sole culprit. I dozed off before I could worry about the possibilities. It wasn’t a deep sleep and I woke up completely more often than I’d like, only to take a look outside at the star-lit scenery rushing past the window and then fell asleep again. The short bursts of dreams I had in between were full of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 and the orange stallion that allowed me to see it up close. Something about them was strange, though.

The dreams – the parts I could remember, anyway – kept repeating, and they weren’t exactly dream-like at all. There were no fire breathing dragons and melting buildings. No flying through the air and landing in a café kind of stuff. They were just a repeat of my day, from the moment I landed in Dodge to the moment I saw the machine. Desert Carrot didn’t even grow an extra face. It was all just normal. Which is more than could be said for me when I woke up in the morning.

I was hungry. And dizzy. I sneezed.

Maybe the poor sleep I had wasn’t so much the result of the strange dreams, but related more to me catching a cold or something. I rarely got sick, but whenever I did I expected to have my measures taken for the coffin at any moment. Even the common cold would drain me of all my life energy and I’d go limp. Boneless. Unfit to live. And I didn’t have to guess what caused it. The acrobatic flights of the previous day were hugely exciting, on occasion even terrifying, but cozy they were not. Rapidly changing elevation combined with the corresponding changes in temperature; flying over mountains and deserts in the span of a few dozen minutes and the body working overtime to take the whole experience in was enough of a reason to get sick.

I got out of bed and tried walking around a bit, hoping it would clear my head, but it was not to be, so I soon forfeited that mission. I went in and out of sleep again, with a light fever making sure I was almost glued to the bed the whole time, except for the few occasions when I got up to eat a snack from my saddlebags or to take a hazy stroll to the lavatory at the rear of the adjacent carriage. The ponies that caught a glimpse of me must have thought I was having some kind of railway sea-sickness.

The thumping of the tracks against the wheels of the carriage pounded ever so lightly in my head every time I woke up. I hadn’t even noticed it before. After a few hours I couldn’t get back to sleep at all, and the noise was only part of the reason. By now I was so awake from the overabundance of sleep that I physically couldn’t stay in bed any longer, and my snacks had run out. It was time to see what the conductor was serving as lunch. As long as wouldn’t sit next to anypony, I was fairly sure I wasn’t going to infect the whole train.

I gathered my things and made my way back to the carriage I was in at the start of the journey. The ponies in the carriages I passed were not all that impressed by my appearance. I wasn’t particularly sane looking the previous night when I rushed by them and now I was gently bobbing from side to side as I walked, my hoof-eye coordination suffering from whatever I had caught. To make matters worse, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, with dark clouds forming far above and a light fog enveloping parts of the scenery.

“Hi! Say, are you a recruit?”

Those were the first words I heard as I sat down on the bench. The older stallion from the previous night had finally done what I had been expecting him to do – it was time for an interview, and I knew I didn’t have much say in whether to play along or not. If he wasn’t deterred by my running nose and frazzled pelt…

I’m not sure if I can call what happened next a real conversation, seeing how I was mostly replying to his questions and only rarely had the chance to return a question back, as is required of proper etiquette, but it lasted a while. Once the conductor came by to offer some food, I hoped that the white stallion would leave me be, but he used lunch as an excuse to prolong the ordeal.

“… but the armor, how heavy is that?”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” I surprised myself with my sudden answer. My body was screaming for the questions to stop. “Enjoy your ride!”

I politely nodded at the stunned stallion, stood up and walked away. From the corner of my eye, I could see him twitch and heard him stammer out a, “S-sure, sure, talk to later!” It wasn’t like an Equestrian Specialist to cut off a conversation like that, but by now the thought of etiquette had mostly gotten buried under the need to get away from everypony for a while. Explaining the ins and outs of my training – the parts that I was allowed to talk about, anyway – was tedious under normal circumstances; the questions were like drills, slowly going into my skulls in the state I was in now.

As soon as I reached my carriage, I threw myself back onto the bed. I hated it, and it was starting to smell of sweat, but I had nothing else to do but sleep. It took me an hour to realize that wasn’t going to happen. I got up, walked around and wondered what kind of orders the Pegasi were working under for the weather to be this dreary. I went through my saddlebags to double and triple check if I’d packed everything - a tad late, but there wasn’t much else to do. And then there wasn’t anything to do.

Reluctantly, I turned to the book. Now that I could see it up close, it dawned on me again that it wasn’t a particularly good gift. In addition to the dull topic, the whole book looked ragged. Nothing was torn or scratched, but there were signs of the hardcover having been bent and the pages were outright bloated, with thin curls of paper on the edges. Water damage, I assumed. Still, it was better than facing my fellow passenger in the other carriage, so I opened it.

What kind of a pointless gift is this?

The more I looked at the pages, the less impressed I was. The history of Heart’s Warming Eve was nothing more than a copy of what we’d been taught years ago in school. I rolled my eyes at that, but then, as I swiped past the first quarter of it, I impatiently grabbed a page and pulled it to the side. A thin, water-like bubble of pale blue magic spread across the page, and the one next to it. The text shifted. That got my attention.

“It is of no doubt therefore, that we must control the spread of these devices and keep a watchful eye on those that would develop them further. Institutions of all provinces of the Kingdom must be instructed to seek out the individuals…”

That brought an uncertain smile to my face. So now, instead of reading about a holiday that celebrates the unification of ponies and the beginning of Equestria, I had what appeared to be an adventure story on my hooves. Without even thinking about starting from the start, I kept on reading, and with every sentence that followed, my interest increased.

Somepony had really taken their time in writing it in an exaggerated antique form of the language. Most of the words were quite similar to the ones you would occasionally hear old ponies speak, but even they would sound hip compared to this, while all the time the author made great use of phrases such as “Destruction of the order”, “Collapse of the Kingdom”, without ever specifying the name of said kingdom or the “unnatural constructs”. Strange language aside, I unknowingly delved deeper into the story.

“These unnatural creations will have a threefold effect: firstly, they will strip the ponies of their purpose. The Earth pony will no longer be needed to work the land and build the cities, the Pegasus will no longer have dominance over the skies and the Unicorn will no longer manipulate the natural world around him. And just as the Alicorn is made powerful by combining those abilities, so too will he suffer the most by the loss in their meaning.”

It had been a while since I read such a strange book. Or any book for that matter, with the exception of Locomotives and other Mechanized Contraptions of Equestria. A better point was that I hadn’t heard such a gloomy story in a long time. Equestrian libraries were always leaning more on the happy side, even when talking about disastrous events, such as the banishment of Nightmare Moon. Whoever wrote this was trying to issue a stern warning about something that was never going to happen, even if he did have a fixation on using antiquated language.

I also have to admit the assumption the author was a stallion was not backed by any evidence, as the first pages were still stuck together, but the fact he was referring to every kind of pony – including Alicorns – as male, made my theory highly likely. For now I was having fun imagining an elderly stallion writing these words and wondering how many crazy mushrooms he must have eaten to be able to come up with that. Nevertheless, this was a much more efficient time waster than the title plastered over the hardcover.

“Secondly, the Zebra will not look kindly over the advances in the understanding of chemicals that so eagerly escort the progress of the mechanical device, as they are in contrast to his ways. He is likely to seclude himself in the forests and deserts far away from the ponies. With that, the cities will lose their greatest healer and spiritual advisor. Then we come to the Griffon. Similarly to the Zebra, he too will not look fondly at this so-called progress, only instead of being insulted by the perceived understanding of the natural world by the ponies, he will be outraged by the effects it has on the natural order. The loss of Griffons on the Kingdom’s population will be negligible, but the possibility of conflict with our Western neighbors over this issue is not to be underestimated.”

The odd manifesto got even better.

“The combined result of these issues brings us to the third and last effect: the tearing of the current society. With the breaking of Harmony, there will be those that benefit from the losses sustained by others and with the balance in tatters, it will only be a question of time before even the most loyal Citizens succumb to fear and paranoia spread by the populace. A power struggle between the proponents of the new technologies and the Citizens could very well shake the very foundations the Kingdom was established on, especially as the Royal Family would lose so much of their power in the process that their unquestionable right to authority would no longer seem so eternal.”

I practically swallowed the next few dozen pages. In this empty carriage, surrounded by the dullest weather I’d seen in years, I was taken to a world where self-centered ponies created machines of all shapes and sizes to fit their purposes. I read bout devices that plowed the fields and reaped the wheat, threatening to destroy the lives of the Earth ponies whose work they now did. I read about giant hammers powered by steam that shaped the steel into unimaginative uniform pieces and the Unicorns that were now left with talents they no longer needed. Pegasi had to share the clouds with giant flying cylinders that carried more ponies for a longer period of time than even the best fliers among them could pull in a sky-chariot.

Fantastic towns in strange places were the battlegrounds where the brave Citizens sought to find those responsible and put an end to their ways, only to be thwarted by the indecisiveness of the Mayors and Princesses above them, who not only forbade the righteous mobs to exile the misfits, but allowed them to continue their work. The way in which it was written made it seem as if the author himself was part of the events and after a few chapters of life in the imagined kingdom, he suddenly changed course. Now, instead of telling the stories of those that suffered under the incompetent rulers, he started making practical suggestion.

“It is all very well halting further pony explorations, but what should we do with the existing devices and accumulated writing on the subject? And what of the so-called scholars and their ideas of understanding our world through observation and logical deduction? These are issues that even the destruction of the devices will not remedy. Instead, it will only drive them to hiding, where they may gain new supporters and word in hiding against the Kingdom. Even more worrying is the apparent indifference shown by some members of Royalty and their advisors towards the issue at hoof. I would even go so far as to say that some intrepid young Princesses are almost too kind to those that delve into these dangerous battles with Nature herself.”

It was about time he made some references to the female side of the sexes. Listening to all the male ponies heroically standing up for justice was interesting but overdone at the same time. The inclusion of the Princesses made for a more relatable story anyway.

“At the very least, efforts would need to be made to reinforce the belief in the Divine nature of the world and the unbreakable bond it shares with the Alicorns. Only in such a way can the perfect structure of our society continue to exist and thrive, as it has for hundreds of years. This humble writer would not even object to the most blatant ways of doing so, such as presenting the Princesses as the driving force behind the world at large, as even the thought of a Princess exhaling the air we all breathe or moving the Stars across the night sky would be more appropriate than denouncing their Divine status. Of course, this would have to follow the prohibition on any new research and the return to normal that would by necessity be marked with the intentional removal of existing devices and literature. The scholars on the other hoof would pose…”

It took a second for those words to thoroughly pass my brain. I had to read that again, one passage in particular.

“…as even the thought of a Princess exhaling the air we all breathe or moving the Stars…”

That was strange. With a single sentence the author did what I was accused of not that long ago. I might not have been a judge, but that sounded suspiciously like somepony using their right to creative writing to mock Princess Luna. I had to see who wrote this and, more importantly, to see who had allowed this book to be made in the first place. Some royal official had had to go through the book half asleep and declared it fit for publishing.

I returned to the beginning of the book to coax the cover into revealing its true contents, but it wouldn’t budge. Unlike the pages, it was original. Probably to ward off the sleeping official. So… that would make the first page after the cover the cover, right?

The next page transformed as eerily as the rest of them, but its contents surprised me. It was the title page, only it was all wrong. Now, I wasn’t - and still am not - an expert on books, but there are a few things every book printed in Equestria has to have. One of the most obvious ones is the name of the official that examined it, to make sure it meets the Equestrian requirements for book content and purpose. It wasn’t there, but something else was. Instead of the usual reminder that the book was printed by the Equestrian Press for the Earth ponies, Unicorns and Pegasi, it said that it was printed by something called Gold-Emma Publishing.

I stared at that for quite some time. This was the first time I had seen anything like it.

What was Gold-Emma Publishing and how could they make a book without the approval of an official? How could they have printed it themselves?

The date and place of publishing didn’t make any sense either. According to that, the book was printed in Heartshore, a place I had never heard about before. Unlike the towns mentioned in the book itself, which were also mostly alien to me, this was worrying. For a city to have a full scale printing press, it would have to be very big and I was fairly certain it wasn’t on any map I had ever seen. To make matters more interesting, the date was set in a strange way, making it seem the book will be published about 200 years into the future.

By now I was convinced this was a clever prank from Desert Carrot, or at least I would be if I could wrap my head around how he got it printed. I was very close to throwing the book back into my saddlebags and forgetting about it when I glanced at the title.

“The Hidden Threat to Ponykind” followed by a subtitle, “A rational look at the dangers of mechanization and a practical guide for managing it.”

Below that, the author: Star Swirl the Bearded.

For a split second, I felt a stab of shock that such a respected historical figure would poke fun at Princess Luna. It was bad enough that anypony would make such a tasteless poke at any member of royalty in Equestria, but Star Swirl? No way. Somepony had written this deviant book and wanted to make it look like the work of Star Swirl to create buzz. The Desert Carrot theory resurfaced, only I didn’t find it quite as funny as before.

If the whole point of giving me a gift was to test my patience it was a job well done. Very well done, in fact. I mentally went back on the steps he’d probably taken. He’d gone through the trouble of having the book enchanted – how I had no idea, but he wasn’t a unicorn so somepony must have helped him. Now, he probably wasn’t the one who wrote or printed it, unless he’d also artificially aged it, which wasn’t that improbable, but even finding an old book like that and not turning it in to the first Royal Guard to have the real author interrogated for forgery was a crime in its own. Literally. Unless he didn’t know what he was giving me, but that seemed the least plausible option out there.

The one question that stood well and truly above the rest was why he’d given the book to me in the first place. He must have known I wouldn’t be too happy about getting a forged book that sneakily talked down the princess. And it was that ill-fitting question that drove me to investigate the book further before I would make a decision as to what to do about it. At least the beginning of the book was once again pure fantasy.

Starting from the very first page, I was again reading about the tragedies that already have and will in the future befall ponykind if “the current state of affairs is allowed to continue,” but the more I got into it, the more I got the feeling that whoever had written the book really didn’t like Equestrian royalty. By the time I got to the part where I first started, I could see them being indirectly blamed for every imagined travesty the author was talking about. Through walls of condemning text I arrived at the second part of the book.

“Section II: Practical solutions for maintaining tradition and loyalty”

The next pages were grim on levels I never knew possible. Among the more noticeable parts were words of wisdom, such as these:

“One of the finer ways of maintaining the goals set about in the previous section is to construct enemies for the inhabitants of the Kingdom. Both the Zebra and the Griffon present perfect opportunities for this, as they have the right amount of commonalities with the ponies while maintaining a different appearance and customs than the civilized Pony. The most obvious course of action would be to alienate the Kingdom from the two neighboring kingdoms, before beginning a military campaign aimed only at maintaining constant tension by way of occasional attacks and provocations. Another is to mark the very inhabitants of the Kingdom that are part of those two groups as internal enemies working against Harmony itself, thus diverting attention from the actions of the rulers. Both solutions would cause as much harm as allowing the current state of affairs to continue, though. Only the most resourceful ruler will see past these two scenarios to find a third, immeasurably more effective way: creating strife with the two kingdoms while protecting those inhabitants that dwell within our Kingdom. The effect, although not immediately apparent, would be profound, as the Citizens themselves would hate the idea of these adversaries, cocooned from any aspect of the current struggle, living amongst them under the pretense of the rulers’ kindheartedness. This would create a short period of masked aggression that would blind the Citizens even more to the corrective measures of the rulers, while allowing for the long-term continuation of the benefits that these species provide ponyfolk.”

There were times I had to put the book down and take a good look around the carriage. Not to look at the gray of the windows for rare specs of light in the thunderstorm-darkened landscape or to take a break from reading itself. I was slowly beginning to understand that things were not as they seemed to be. I can’t say I thought of Desert Carrot as a friend before, but for him to present himself as a kind and helpful pony and then to give me something like this was unfathomable. The decision of what to do about it was becoming clearer, even if I didn’t like it.

Even as I turned the pages, I was envisioning myself stepping off the train in Canterlot and making an unscheduled stop before going to my own hearing. This kind of filth had to be stopped.

Back in the book, the overly-detailed procedures for creating the perfect blend of emotions and desired actions from ponies ranged from general ways of ruling and continued right down to the formulas for the required posture and way of speaking in given situations in which the rulers are most likely to find themselves in. The worst part was, I recognized half of it from my daily life. Somepony who’d been to the Academy must have had a hoof in writing the book. There were also less elegant ways that the attack against the princesses continued. The words “illusionary propaganda” cropped up a few too many times for comfort. Sure, they only appeared twice toward the end of the book, but even implying that the princesses would use such tactics in a fantasy novel made my stomach churn.

At the very end of it all, the book took a turn for the purely-imaginary again.

“With the birth of Princess Aurora, the Royal Family finally has the required number of members to optimally divide the Kingdom given the effort required to govern a single province. The Queen and the King will maintain their rule over the Greenspring province, the birthplace of the Kingdom, while the four elder Princesses will release parts of their lands to create the province for Princess Aurora, even if a Regent must be put in her place until she matures. In the hooves of the Royal Family, the Kingdom will know no rivals…”

I looked away from the book and stared at the ornate wooden planks of the doorway to the other carriage. With everything I’d read so far I had long ago abandoned any hope about this being a mere prank. It was an insane book by any standard, but it was still there, in my hooves, with a carefully prepared magical barrier keeping its secret. The decision of what to do was now set in stone and the only thing I was left to wonder was the same question as before – why was I given the book?

The noise of all the theories running about my head was both tiring and stimulating at the same time. A light headache came around every once in a while to remind me that I wasn’t in the optimal shape to be doing mental push-ups. I stood up and started pacing up and down the carriage, looking at the ground the whole time. The more I tried to piece together a reasonable explanation, the more frustrated I became as every time the answer seemed in reach a gaping hole appeared in it to make it impossible. The most reasonable explanation I could come up with was that Desert Carrot wanted me to inform the Royal Guards, but that merely started a new series of questions.

I stopped. This was too much to take in and I had nowhere near enough information to find the truth. I retrieved the book from the bed, put it in the saddlebag and pushed it beneath the bed. I needed to pass the time until we got to Canterlot, and for once the one thing I was craving for was that annoying stallion asking me questions. I could answer those.

The white stallion was more than a little surprised to see me.

“Why, hey there! I thought I’d lost you for good,” he started as soon as he noticed me.

The magazine in his hooves suddenly wasn’t so interesting. I sat down and explained the only part I was sure I could afford to explain.

“I’m sorry, I needed to get some sleep.” As soon as I saw his eyes light up at the chance to talk more, I remembered an important part of etiquette that I had left out in my automatic replying during the previous conversation. “I didn’t catch your name before…”

“Hondo Flanks!” he shot out like he’d been waiting for that for his whole life. I quickly took the line he’d thrown me.

“Traveling alone?”

“Why yes, the missus needed to stay…”

It wasn’t a bad tactic to get things moving again without having to feel like I was being interviewed. I made sure to keep some distance between us, both metaphorically and practically – my headache might have improved the moment I stopped thinking about the book, but I still felt every bit under attack by the cold. By the time we were done talking, the carriage was almost empty.

“Looks like it’s getting late,” he started, much to my surprise, and waited for me to continue.

“It really does,” I said and got up, him following suit. “See you tomorrow!”

It only dawned on me that he was probably sleeping in the multi-bed carriage on the way to my own when he followed me through the door, but not before I felt my hairs stands on end the moment he took a step behind me. Paranoia can be a wonderful companion. And it continued well after we’d parted for the last time that day.

The nightmares began the moment I shut my eyes and lasted well into morning. Every one of them was different, with varying levels of artistic insanity woven into their design, almost as if to make up for the dreary dreams the night before. But they all shared the same voice. Every time the horror reached its peak, moments before I would wake up, a voice shouted from afar, “Get out!” but at the same time, something was keeping me pinned to the bed. Too often, I woke up unable to move, pumped with just enough adrenaline to keep me up for a few moments until it suddenly wore off and I plunged back to sleep like I’d just gotten a kick to the head. I wasn’t until daylight illuminated the thin curtains of the carriage that I finally felt the warm embrace of unladen sleep.

There was a loud knock on the door.

“We’re approaching Canterlot!”

Chapter 6 - Surprise Meeting

I could barely open my eyes. The bed sheets were cold and moist, but the thought of climbing out of bed into the stale air of the carriage made me want to dig in even deeper and for a second, I nearly did. My eyes were already closed when the thought that I was on a train came rushing back like a bad memory.

My legs felt heavy as lead as I unraveled the sheet and climbed out of bed. It didn’t take me long to discover why it was drenched. Cold sweat stuck to me like I’d taken a dive in a swamp.

I shook as hard as I could, not even thinking about the poor sod who’d have to mop up the carriage, and in a few minutes I somehow managed to make myself somewhat presentable for the charade I was about to take part in. No, I absolutely didn’t have a good feeling about having to return so quickly. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Then, I double checked that I wasn’t missing anything and made my way to the regular carriage to sit down for the steep climb we were about to begin.

Hondo took a look at me and quipped about how messy I looked – diplomacy wasn’t his strong suit – but after I didn’t immediately reply, he understood I was in no state for conversation. He kept to himself after that.

The carriage tilted as the railroad began its climb, pushing me gently into the bench and the glass decoration behind my back. On any other day the return to Canterlot would have been a welcome addition to a successful mission – a sense of pride and fulfillment growing with every upward turn. But not on this day. And it wasn’t just for what was in store for me. The climb itself made me feel as if I was in a sky-chariot that was gently taking off, with the sharp turns doing their best to mimic heavy turbulence and in my current state flying was the last thing I wanted. The dizziness was quickly backed up by my stomach squeezing; preparing to eject whatever was left in it from the previous day. Good thing I knew a thing or two about self-control.

The last few seconds of the climb dragged on forever. I was starting to have doubts about my ability to not throw up when the track mercifully leveled out. In a few turns and a short straight I would be able to leave the confines of the train and venture out into the wilderness of Canterlot. But the thought of the city brought with it yesterday’s dilemma. The rough sleep had done a number on my resolve to report Desert Carrot outright.

First Pearl, then Carrot.

In a brief moment, I even wanted to join the two tasks together, but if I started explaining how I got ahold of a magical book to the pony who demanded my return, the whole thing would look like an attempt at diversion. It was good to know that my mind was already returning to normal, even if my body defied it at every move.

“We’re stopping in Canterlot in two minutes,” the conductor startled me.

I nodded in response but failed to actually say anything before he walked away to inform the passengers in the back as well. My saddlebags were right beside me, my uniform was draped over my fever-soaked body and my tail and mane were a mess. I in no way resembled a model Specialist, but until they would put showers on trains everypony would just have to tolerate it. It’s not like I looked the way I did on purpose. The excuses for the Preceptor were already forming in my mind.

I got caught up in bed weather during the mail deliveries. Somepony left the window open in the carriage and wouldn’t close it. A zebra put a curse on me. I was flying to Dodge City instead of getting a new assignment from the local… No, better not say that.

The train stopped with a thud. I didn’t know if I should blame a novice operator or my ill-being for the jolt, but the moment I heard the tap of the doors opening, I decided it didn’t really matter. Soon a line of ponies was exiting onto the platform. Some perked up the moment they got off the train, as they took in the misty morning air that dulled the smell of coal. Others were dragging their hooves, and probably heading for the first coffee shop, while the lucky ones got to jump into the embrace of their loved ones. The only thing missing was the crowd waiting to board. Hondo put on a rough-looking straw hat and got up to leave.

“Well, I’ll see you around!”

I smiled at him as he tilted it, almost in a farm-pony kind of way, even though nothing about him indicated that he’d spent any time on a farm. He returned the smile and walk down to the doorway. It wasn’t that I kept on smiling after he’d turned away that sent my heart into overdrive. Neither was it the sudden quiet that descended on the carriage; nopony coming into it, not even the conductor. No, the core of my fear lay in the suit-like grip of a gentle coating of magic that was keeping me glued to the spot, and the smile on my face. The only thing I could move were my eyes, which only served to make the whole experience extra terrifying.

The real panic didn’t really begin to set in until the train started moving again. Ponies were walking past the window behind me, returning to their homes, completely oblivious to the Specialist trapped in the carriage.

“Hey! I’m still here!” I tried yelling at anypony willing to listen, but no words escaped me, “Hold on!”

In place of a response came marble walls and darkness, followed by a deep thud a moment later. The train had slowly rolled into the maintenance station not far from the platform, and now the only thing I could make out was the faintest glow coming from my around my eyes. But where there’s darkness, there’s inevitably light. If nothing else, I was expecting a sudden flash of white from an interrogation lamp – yes, even those things popped up in the rumors regarding the Manners-Mare, and I wouldn’t have put it past her to use some kind of intimidation against me, if only for her pleasure.

Flash in three, two, one… one? One?

I quieted down my breathing to catch any kind of noise that could tell me what was coming, until I nearly stopped breathing altogether. There was only quiet and the faint glow of magic enveloping me whole to keep me still. And then it happened, only not in the way I expected it to. Four spots of light suddenly illuminated the bench below me; light pink circles formed at the base of my hooves and continued for half a hoof’s length around them, just as I felt the grip of the magical suit wear off.

I took a deep breath to test-out my new limited freedom, and raised my voice. “What is this?”

The door opened a moment later. I twisted my neck as somepony stepped into the carriage at the front side door, soon followed by somepony else from the other side of the carriage. They had me cornered, which in a space with only two main exits and their target being glued to the floor wasn’t all that impressive, but my heart was racing. Amazing how I suddenly lost any notion of sickness that I had felt on the train, but then adrenaline is known to be a wonder drug.

“He doesn’t like to listen does he, Flim?” One of them prattled out.

“Indeed he doesn’t, dear brother of mine,” the similar sounding shadow answered.

Another spark of light followed and a barely noticeable aura illuminated the faces of the Flim-Flam brothers. In the near darkness of the carriage, they looked more green-tinted ghosts than ponies. Good thing their voices never got the memo.

“Now you see here,” Flim said as he moved closer to me, “There’s a whole lot of Royal Guards out there, on that platform. Isn't that so, Flam?”

Flam approached from the other side and twirled his mustache as he told me, “Oh yes. And they’re waiting for you.”

“Really?”

I was surprised, but probably not in the way they were expecting me to be. After all, I was already expecting the Guards back at the Greenlit, so having them wait for me here wasn’t that out of the ordinary. Having Guards come looking for me in the first place most certainly was, but I was far beyond questioning that at this point. Seeing the two brothers at all, now that was the surprising part. They had to have known about Carrot’s parting gift.

“Yes, once again,” Flim took over from Flam, “And you know why, don’t you?”

The way he pitched his voice almost made it seem like he wanted to guilt-trip me, but the sideways glance and the raised eyebrow told me that he was expecting me to be in on the joke, whatever it was. Between the book and the timely kidnapping, I was missing something, but until I knew what it was I could only play along.

With a sigh, I looked to the ground, “Yes.” It was overacted, but turned out to be a good decision.

The pink glow was still emanating from beneath my hooves. The brothers were using their magic to light their faces. Light green. I looked back up and glanced at both of them in succession.

“Who’s is this?”

Flam opened his mouth for a moment to continue the explanation from before, until my question fully reached him. The brothers exchanged a look and smirked. Flim responded.

“You’re being held down by an associate of ours.”

His brother continued. “And it would be very rude of us to tell you who it is now, wouldn’t it?”

“Especially as you haven’t been properly introduced,” Flim ended.

The whole back-and-forth talking was starting to tug at my nerves. There was only one feeling stronger that that – suspicion. With every second since they had revealed themselves my fear was dying down, and the more it died down, the more I started wondering what their game was. I was already determined to report Carrot to the Guards for the book he gave me, and he was the one hiding the Squeezy. I had to wonder, though, what was the brothers’ involvement with the whole thing? What was the point of it all?

“Fair enough.” I was trying to keep as unimpressed-sounding tone as possible. “Will I get to meet her?”

They flinched at that.

“How did you know it was a she?” Flam demanded.

I looked at him and smiled. “I didn’t.”

Technically, I really didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I was truthful. When you spot a magical glow, you can be fairly certain whether it’s a mare or a stallion that’s casting it. While color might not tell you much, the way in which the pony’s using it definitely can, even if it’s not foolproof. Years of studying and training with unicorns will sharpen your senses like that.

When somepony touches you with magic, it’s a bit like a hoofshake, or a hoofbump. Or, if you’ve made them angry, a kick. Either way, there’s a certain finesse to it that’s different from mares to stallions. You will find exceptions, make no mistakes about that, but for the most part, you can roughly tell the caster’s gender and what they intend to use the magic for the moment you feel it. And the snug embrace of the magic that ended up pooled at my hooves was reason enough to suspect a mare was behind it.

Whatever the technicalities, I felt quite proud of myself for asking that; one extra piece of the puzzle, even if I didn’t even know how big the box was. Flam was satisfied with that answer and probably a little embarrassed for revealing a part of the unicorn’s identity. I knew I wouldn’t just get to meet her, so the best course of action was to see what else I could learn.

“You have me here. Now what?”

Flim’s response came almost too soon. “First, we have to get rid of that book you’re carrying.” He pointed at my saddlebags and kept the pose, waiting for me to oblige.

Damn.

That was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t know what Carrot and the brothers were up to, but that book was the best piece of evidence I had that it wasn’t anything good. By the time I would have been able to convince anypony of going to Dodge City to investigate, the machine and everything with it would probably be gone, including Carrot. The only thing that would make his disappearance faster would be if I outright refused to cooperate. But that wasn’t my only problem.

They know something’s gone wrong.

Somepony on the train must have tipped them off, but who, and how? Hondo immediately came to mind, but so did a mental slap to the back of my head. If there was one pony who could never be a spy, it was Hondo; he was far too noticeable. Unless that was the idea all along, but at if I went down that road, I might as well have started speculating whether the floor boards of my carriage were enchanted to watch over me. That even made more sense, since I hadn’t told anypony about the book, unless my behavior gave too much away.

I reluctantly looked at my saddlebags. It was a pointless exercise as they were not illuminated by the brothers’ well measured magic or the mare’s glowing glue. As soon as I did that, Flim continued laying out the plan.

“Then, we get you out of this wooden box and escort you out.”

I didn’t know if I should take that as a veiled threat or not. He certainly didn’t say it that way, but I was yet to hear either of them speak in anything other than their usual upbeat tone, even when they were trying to be secretive. It certainly would be expected at this point, if I was right in thinking that they wanted to get rid of the evidence. My case against Carrot was falling apart faster than it began. I had to delay that.

“And this won’t look suspicious because?”

Flam replied, “Because you’re sick and you fell asleep in the carriage.” I still wasn’t used to how rapidly they could talk, even if I was getting used to how well prepared their answers were.

“Yes, and we’ll be the good ponies that found you and escorted you out in the open.”

Escorted me?

This sounded like a terrible plan, from their side at least. The brothers would be recognized the moment they set hoof outside and I knew the Guards wouldn’t look kindly at them, since they were nervous enough to kidnap me for the book in the first place. Worked like a charm for me, though.

I said “Okay,” in much the same manner as they were replying to me before.

I had one chance to get them out in the open, and I wasn’t going to lose it. The moment I blindly found my book in the saddlebag, I turned it over. Even the brothers exchanged surprised glances before Flam took the book and put it in his own saddlebags.

With an uncertain smile on his face, surprised that I gave in so easily, Flam shook his head and said, “Alright then, let’s go!”

The magic underneath me disappeared, and I already made an anxious step to escape my prison, but the brothers stood still for a moment longer. They summoned additional magic to their horns.

The green magic spread all over their bodies, momentarily enveloping them in a sharp green field. My blood froze as I watched the lightshow playing out in front of me; I suddenly felt like a moth drawn to the flame, having been tricked into giving over the book only for them to make good on the half-spoken threat. The field disappeared before my fight or flight reflex could set the course. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this: On my right side stood the conductor and on my left there was the train operator. At least I assumed it was the one who operated the train on the return trip, even though I never saw him. More to the point, the two brothers had transformed into the train personnel. This was magic on a level I hadn't thought possible. I was speechless.

I'd lost the book, and now I lost the ponies who had kidnapped me. I didn't even need to imagine how crazy I would sound if I started screaming at the Guards about what I had just seen. In the blink of an eye, everything I could have used against Carrot disappeared. Almost everything. I still knew what I saw and what I had read. The only thing I could hope for now was that somepony would believe me.

“Sir, it’s time to leave the train.” Flim, the conductor said, in the casual tone I had grown accustomed to.

“Yes, we’re already in maintenance,” the operator added, “By the way, you don’t look so good.” The way he rose a hoof to his chest and cringed in concern was merely further proof of how much practice he’d had in the role.

“Yes, you should probably see a doctor. Come with us, please. Oh, and mind the lights.”

Candle lamps came to life on the walls of the maintenance building, casting an orange shadow across the red bricks. The gentle flickering of flames moved the shadows on the walls, but there were also slanted straight lines trembling from above. My moment of detachment was brought to an early end by the embrace of two hooves, as the Flim-Flam brothers took ahold of me to guide me out. A minute earlier, I would have resisted their attempt; now I was defenseless.

Even their hooves, helping to stabilize me, felt normal. I couldn’t wrap my head around that. The brothers were taller than the crew they were portraying, yet nothing seemed out of place.

It was only on the inner platform of the maintenance building, when they had eased their grip, that I started looking around again, just in case I would need to escape. But where would I escape to? The shadows were coming from a wide array of wall-mounted shelves, filled with tools and spares parts for the train, with massive counters below holding the equally massive parts, disassembled for repairs. One of the wide, slanted shadows passed over me; enormous steel girders spanned the roof, carrying the weight of the bricks above.

But there were only three exits that I could see, all of them shut for now: The steel door at the end of the platform that we were walking toward, another one up a short staircase behind us and the oversized doors for the train that had so loudly shut once the train was inside. The windows made my hairs stand on edge, though. The frames were there, as were the wooden bars that hold the glass panels in place, but there was no glass. Only shadows playing on dark stone.

The whole station was encased in a marble tomb.

A jolt ran dawn my neck, all the way to the hooves, as Flim suddenly started trotting toward the door. Flam tightened his grip on me when I twitched, while Flim casually unlocked the door to let us out. Just at that door opened to reveal to bright morning outside, a clanking sound from behind revealed that door also being opened. Two maintenance workers came through and descended to the shop floor. A single wave from Flam was enough to nip their curiosity in the bud.

Outside, the brothers’ predictions came true. Royal Guards were on the way, walking so fast they were almost trotting. Words and sentences were rapidly forming in my mind; shouts for arrests, cries for help, anything to get them to react to the two transformed stallions next to me. Only I had nothing to tell them. Nothing that would carry any weight, at least. Even as my lips wanted to grow apart, I held them shut.

“Why, good mor-”

“Specialist Neigh?” the squad commander cut off Flam’s joyful salute and the brothers acted out the mood-shift perfectly.

“Yes?” I stopped, forcing the brothers to do the same. The half-dozen Guards now blocking our path would have seen to that either way.

“What were you doing in there?”

There was a hint of the personal in the way he asked that; as if I had insulted him off-duty and the only thing standing between what he said and far harsher words were the fact that we were in uniform. It wasn’t the first time that I had seen him, but I had never spoken to him before.

I gave my best reply in a contrite voice, “I overslept the station. I haven’t been…”

“You need to come with us.” The abruptness was far from protocol.

“What is this about?” I spoke as slowly as I could, even though my mouth wanted to blurt everything out in a second.

“We’ll discuss it later.”

I don’t know why he did it, but Flim intervened, taking half a step toward the Guard, “Now, I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. This young Specialist really hasn’t been very well on the way back.”

My breath cut short as he said that. For all their planning, Flim sure seemed eager to make the Guard suspicious; you don’t argue with the Royal Guards on their good days. And this Guard was not having a good day today.

“Keep out of this, it doesn’t concern you,” the Guard informed him. “But it does concern your train.”

“You want to board my train?” Flam intervened.

He wanted to play with his mustache again, forgetting his alternate body didn’t have it. With his hoof already at his muzzle, he suddenly remembered that and changed the motion to an un-elegant swipe of the hoof across his mouth and over his mane, correcting it. The Guard frowned at the coarse gesture and I could tell Flim didn’t enjoy it either.

“Yes. We have reason to believe Specialist Neigh might have taken something of value.” He turned to me suddenly. “And we don’t think he has it on him.”

The urge to calmly say; “The train operator has it,” was drowned out only by the rational part of my brain screaming at me that the book disappeared along with Flam's original saddlebags and the irrational part screaming that the Guards knew about the book and were waiting for me because of it. The whole thing was too complex to argue about it with a Guard and risk forcing the brothers into hiding. I needed to talk to somepony higher up, if I had any chance of being heard.

“Taken what?” Flam was persistent, I’ll give him that. The Guard tried a different tactic, before he would likely resort to more aggressive options.

“Nothing you should be worried about,” the Guard told him with a forced, professional-courtesy smile, “Now, if you don’t mind?”

Flam leaned on his legs. “I’m afraid the train is being serviced. You’re free to board once it’s finished, though!”

Flim nervously glanced at his brother while the Guard merely cocked his head, as if he didn’t quite understand what Flim had just said. I couldn't understand why he had said it. The Guard narrowed his eyes and I could see him weighing his options, deciding whether to issue an ultimatum, arrest the train crew along with me, or give kindness another shot. His muscles tensed up, and he was about to make a step forward when Flim cut in.

“Just let them pass!” Flim jelled at his brother, and for once I could make out genuine fear in his voice.

“But my train is being…” Flam started, but Flim angrily pointed his hoof at him and then at the maintenance station, nearly striking me in the process.

“Tell them to take a break and let the gentlecolts in!”

“Fine!” Flam shouted back before turning away from him and pouting.

I genuinely couldn’t tell whether they were acting or if either of them had stopped. The squad leader signaled to the Guards by his side and most trotted onward into the maintenance station, leaving only one Guard beside the leader. Soon, we could hear them arguing with the workers inside.

“Thank you,” the squad leader said to the brothers; a warning more than anything else. Then it was my turn to feel under pressure, “Come with us.”

Once again I was in a pony sandwich, only instead of the two brothers flanking my flanks, it was two Royal Guards. The one that was so eager to speak to me was on my left and the other one was to my right. The train station was fast approaching, but at the last second we took a detour and circled around it. I could soon see why. There was no need to go there anymore, not with a sky-chariot waiting close to the main entrance. Subtlety was a virtue missing from the Guards’ list. The newly emotionless expressions on their faces were at least enough to prevent this turning into a spectacle for the ponies hanging about the train station. Instead, it merely looked as two Guards and a Specialist returning from a training mission or an exercise of some sort. Nopony paid attention to us for more than a few seconds, even as we boarded the chariot and took off.

We stayed silent for the whole trip. My stomach grew heavier the more we rose from the ground and I kept going back to the moment when the conductor told me we were nearing the city. Scenarios began unfolding of how I could have escaped the train before it came to a halt; how I would leap out a window or walk nonchalantly to the doors at the side and pulled them open. Maybe I’d have to pull the emergency break before that, but in any case the brothers’ plan would have been foiled. It wasn’t like they could have just glued me to the spot – other passengers would have noticed something’s wrong. But all my retrofitted escape plans had one flaw: I didn’t know I was in danger.

The realization forced me to think about the alternative; what would have happened if I’d chosen not to give them the book. For a moment, I drew a blank. There were places I simply refused to go. The worst case scenario that I could manage was that they’d somehow incapacitate me, and take the book with force, but there was always a more sinister option.

They can shapeshift.

Instead of opting-out of scenarios that lay ahead, I suddenly saw flashes of what that implied; all the terrifying possibilities that that brought with it.

I winced. For the first time on the chariot I started feeling the cool air sinking into my fur. The pain in my stomach aside, I once again focused on what to do, now that the only piece of real evidence against Desert Carrot was lost to two shape-shifting unicorns. How would anypony believe that? And how did the Guards even know that I took the book? I squinted at the squad leader and the accusation that had brought me home early became clear as day.

The whole thing with Dodge was a trap.

They might not have had the book, but you’ll never see a Royal Guard escort somepony like that unless they had something on him. I wasn’t sure about the charade with the brothers, and how that fit into the grand scheme of things, but either they were going to produce the book, or they had enough evidence from elsewhere to punish me. All that was left to do was to figure out how much damage I had done with that little trip to Dodge and what the ramifications will be.

Given that I was already left off the hook once, even if they didn’t actually have anything to hook me on, it was silly to expect them to do the same again. So, in what way would they choose to poke me with a sharp stick this time, perhaps by adding more chores or limiting my personal time? A combination of both and some lavatory cleaning? The possibilities were endless and they helped me pass the few minutes it would take to reach the Academy. The strange part was that I calmed down as soon as I started thinking about the practical side of my inevitable punishment.

Out of pure habit, I looked around me, even though my view was severely limited on both sides due to my temporary bodyguards. I couldn’t see too many details of the city behind me, but I did manage to notice something odd. The chariot had gained a fair altitude, so that most of Canterlot was now below us, and I could see the rooftops of the Academy in the distance, but we were still climbing. I had never flown from the train station to the Academy, but that kind of flight path didn’t make any sense. The only way this could work was if we were supposed to reach some predetermined altitude and then go into a sharp dive, but that would be as pointless as it would be stressful for the two Guards pulling the thing through the air. The mountainside was also coming too close for comfort.

I halted my theorizing and nervously looked around through any gaps between the body of the Guard to my right and the chariot itself to see where we were going, but the only thing I could see was that we were definitely hugging the mountainside. Were we going to the top of the mountain? What’s going to happen there?

I looked behind and saw Canterlot disappearing behind the mountain, but any fear of going to the peak was put to rest when the chariot began descending in the same breakneck speed I had anticipated earlier, only now we were turning as well, still keeping close the giant rocks on our right. This side of the mountain was uncharted territory as far as I was concerned, but I knew there were no outposts perched on its side or on the hills and valleys underneath it. But there was something else.

The trees on the slope of the hill were approaching rapidly and with them, our destination. A gap in the trees, illuminated by dim light from below, was just big enough to fit the chariot if the Pegasi flying it had the accuracy to hit it at just the right angle. With a few sharp adjustments they lined up the chariot and the trees swallowed us whole. Small lights flashed by as we flew through a narrow corridor dug into the mountainside. Wooden beams passed over our heads and small rocks ricocheted off the Guards’ armor as they crumbled from the ceiling. My faux-armor dealt with them surprisingly well, but I keep a hoof over my head for obvious reasons. All the time, the Pegasi at front steered the chariot through the twists and turns, knowing the path so well they could probably have flown it blind. Given the tiny amount of light they effectively were.

I was having hard time breathing. The fear was long ago masked by the adrenaline of flying so fast in such a contained space, but the air around me had changed. It was becoming heavier and heavier. Warmer, too. I didn’t even notice that I had started sweating until I stretched my neck to free my throat. The feeling of my sweat soaked mane as it reluctantly slid over it was as uncomfortable as it was unmistakable. A single spot of light appeared in the distance and grew with every moment. We were approaching a cavern of some kind and the chariot slowed its approach until we were merely gliding through the air.

A myriad of lamps illuminated the chamber carved into the rock, their light only broken in places by pony shapes standing on each side. The sound of heavy doors sliding into place echoed all around as we stopped in the middle of the chamber. For a moment, lights appeared even from behind, coating the entire ceiling in a warm glow before it disappeared entirely. Only one source of light remained – a small glass lamp hung from the ceiling. I was blind.

Hoofsteps approached as the two Guards onboard the chariot grabbed me and half-dragged me to the ground. I could hear the Pegasi take to the sky again, if only to move the chariot out of the way, while the sound of hoofsteps became ever louder. My eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but I could see the shapes of a few ponies standing around me, barely illuminated by the small lamp high above.

“Specialist Neigh Swifty, operating under Preceptor…” the high voice of a mare narrated my resume in a flat tone.

This was no ordinary hearing.

Chapter 7 - Reflections

By the time my introduction ended, the accompanying Guards had already stripped me of my uniform and saddlebags and were busily going through them. My heart felt as if it was squeezed by a pair of pliers and I felt the pressure in my veins building up. All this time, the weak lamp above drew ominous shadows on the robed ponies around me and the mare's voice didn’t stop for more than a brief breath.

“You have been found guilty of anti-Equestrian tendencies, corruption and manipulation of other ponies, gathering of illicit material and subterfuge. Is there anything you’d like to say before we decide on the sentence?”

The words felt like a splash of ice to the back of my head. Even in the damp, hot confines of the chamber I felt my lungs fill with fresh air and my eyes widen. To add to the harsh surprise, it was impossible to tell where the voice was coming from; to try and decipher from body language if what I had just heard was a tasteless joke. Only there was nothing to go by but the motionless shadowy figures ahead.

“I-I…”

“Do not attempt to stall. It will merely add to your sentence,” a different voice spoke, almost morbidly.

Lost for words, I focused on the one detail that was available to me: the voices. They were old ponies, both of them. One mare, one stallion, but that’s as much as I could read from their voices alone. I was nudging my head from one side to the other in an automatic, yet futile attempt to discern any distinguishing features of the shapes surrounding me and it was then that I noticed just how brighter I was than the rest. The lamp above was nowhere near powerful enough. The white circle of light that shone beneath me illuminated me, and only me – that was made by a unicorn hiding out of sight.

“Specialist Neigh, it is in your greatest interest to respond as rapidly as possible.”

“How?...” I mumbled out to everypony and nopony at the same time.

“How?” wondered a third voice, “By using your mouth, as you just did!”

I stuttered out, “N-no. How am I guilty?”

The response came as the most natural answer ever told, “We looked over the evidence and decided that you’re guilty.”

“But I haven’t…” I wanted to stop myself from saying I hadn’t done anything, but in the grand scheme of things, given what I’d been found guilty of, I really hadn’t. “I haven’t done anything,” I finally stammered out.

“Not done anything?” another new voice mockingly said, “The results of your trial say otherwise.”

“But I didn’t have a trial!”

“Of course you did.”

“When?!” There was no point holding back the frustration now.

“You had your trial in absence.”

The calmness of the voice forced me to counter it.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“How can you be sure of that when we haven’t even shown you the evidence we have against you?”

The voices started coming from random directions, all old, all eerily calm and carrying a hint of disdain mixed with condescension.

“You’ve had quite an eventful week, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Ponyville, Canterlot, Baltimare…”

“A new location, a new crime against Equestria.”

“What is it that drove you to it? Hate? Money? Love? Some strange delusion?”

A cocktail of words was rushing through my head, accompanied by still images of every place mentioned, only now there were shadowy ponies watching me gaze at the brother’s machine in Ponyville. And there they were again at the Fast Grass. And in the University. The Greenlit, Dodge City… Ponies watching from the shadows, from behind corners…

No. I shook the visions away. That never happened!

“Oh?” the old stallion wondered, “Having difficulties facing reality?”

“No.” I didn’t know if I was looking at him, so I slowly looked at each of the figures before me.

A few brief murmurs from my accusers later, a stallion continued, “Let’s help you with that, shall we?”

The moment he stopped speaking, a small table with a single large box on it teleported into existence directly in front of me with a yellow burst of magic. Thick dark-yellow files, filled with white paper, lined the box. I could barely scrounge my eyebrows at them when the magical aura started enveloping each file, opening it and almost throwing it at my face before rushing it back into the box again as the voice narrated.

“Exhibit Alpha: Ponyville report. Exhibit Beta: Ponyville report II. Exhibit Gama: Severe misconduct report and corrective action. Exhibit Delta: Baltimare AWOL. Exhibit Epilon: General observation report. Exhibit Zeta: Special observation report. Exhibits Eta, Theta, Rho and Sigma: Testimonies from witnesses… Need we go on?”

Whatever was in those files would remain shrouded in mystery. I tried grabbing the file, only to find that I was once again glued to the floor, and even that wouldn’t have been as bad had it not been for the way the evidence was presented to me. The speed at which the pages were being turned made it impossible to make out any details with the exception of a few pictures of myself from different angles and distances. Most were from Baltimare.

The table with everything on it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. In the confusion of everything that was happening, there was only one thing I now thought of doing. The one lifeline that would put me level with the ponies around me.

I stated, as calmly as I could force myself to be, “I want a lawyer.”

“You don’t have one. This isn’t the Royal Court.”

I let that sink in. First I was abducted, then sentenced without a trial, and now I wasn’t even going to get a chance to challenge any of this, or at least get somepony to explain the whole mess in a way I could comprehend it? What was there left to do?

“Well what is this?!”

“This is the Council for Equestrian Integrity.”

“The bottom line is, Specialist Neigh – or mayhaps I should say former Specialist Neigh, given that you’re no longer in position of being eligible for a Specialist-” Of all the things I’d heard up to this point, none took my breath away quite as much as that sentence, “– that you are standing with three legs in permanent confinement as a result of these transgressions.”

The doors behind me started sliding open, bringing the proceeding to a temporary halt and allowing me take a deep breath of the hot, moist air in the cavern. A Royal Guard flew into the chamber and landed to my left, bowing to the ponies ahead.

“What have you found?” a stallion said, his voice full of anticipation.

Then came the restrained answer,“Nothing, your excellence.”

Suddenly, the beehive was awoken. Whispers and murmurs filled the chamber, and robes shook from side to side as my accusers struggled to reach an agreement. Then a second question came forth.

“Thank you. Was there anything on him?”

The Royal Guards that had gone through my things raised their heads, and the squad leader announced, “Only this.”

In his hoof were two books, one from the University library and the other allegedly from my dad. He carried them slowly to the ponies ahead. As the Guard retreated, I could see the books being passed around; briefly examined by each pony that got his hooves on them, before passing them on. There was a sense of general confusion, until a single piece of paper flew to the ground.

“What is this?”

Somepony picked up the paper and was examining it and in that brief moment I had actually been given a real question to answer; a chance to show that they had the wrong pony, and I wasn’t going to fail now.

I calmly said, “It’s an invitation to Dodge City.”

There was an unnerving moment of silence.

“So, you’ve decided to cooperate?”

The words sent a sting of fury through my stomach, but getting angry wouldn’t have resolved anything. I didn’t know what protocols they operated under for this situation to have come about in the first place, but I had the means to change course.

“Yes. I know what you’re looking for. And who.”

For the next few minutes I told them, as calmly as I could, of the events of the past week. I spared no detail, not of my talk to dad not of the unfortunate request I had made to Silverline, explaining each action in as reasonable as manner as I could. Then I came to the book – well, all three of them to be precise, and how I used the information in the first to get the idea of Dodge City, how the message in the second brought me there, and how the third made me sick to my stomach through its disturbing content.

They asked me about the ponies on the way; I told them all there was to tell. I made special care to slow my voice, as if speaking to a child, when I came to the Flim-Flam brothers and their transformation spells. I told them everything I knew of Desert Carrot and the mare who ferried me around.

They listened intently, saying nothing. After I was done, the absolute silence around me gave me pause to hope. Thoughts about the absurdity of everything I had just told them tried burrowing their way to the surface, but the hope was there to drown them out.

“I see,” said the old stallion, before going quiet for a moment. “Self-preservation is a powerful tool.”

My heart fell into my hooves.

“True,” agreed the old mare, “You might be of service yet. As soon as we confirm your testimony.”

There was no time to respond to that – the two Guards to my sides grabbed me and pushed me to the side. At the same time, the robed ponies started walking away to an opening exit in the distance.

A dim light at the end of the darkness signaled my destination, and I had never been as happy to be dragged off to confinement by two Royal Guard as I was in that moment. Everything is going to be fine, I kept repeating, They’ll get Carrot and the book, and everything will be sorted out.

I had a smile on my face as the Guards guided me into a narrow corridor, sharp slabs of rock protruding from the ceiling and the walls, some of the jagged shapes even reflecting light as mirrors. The sight of a waiting pony, hidden as the rest behind a heavy cloak, brought my attention back. Without a word, he turned to the side and cast a circle of white magic onto the wall. A hole, marked with a thin ring of flowing magic, appeared in its place and I could see a strangely bright space beyond; a small enclosed room with jagged rocks as walls.

They can’t just seal me in there.

A shove from the Guards ended my question before I could say it out loud and a glance behind revealed only two stern faces expecting me to step inside. My hooves shook as I stepped over the threshold of the portal, the sound of each echoing slightly as I made my way into the tight confines of the cell.

This is wrong, I thought and spun around to try to reason with the ponies outside, only to be met by small bright sphere of the rapidly closing portal on the only straight wall in the cell.

“No!” I banged my hoof against the rock before dropping my head and stepping away.

It was fruitless to try and resist, I knew that. For a brief moment I felt a tinge of shame at throwing myself at the wall like that. Doesn’t matter if they heard me or not, I’m trapped in here until they see Dodge. Annoying them would only prolong that process, in turn prolonging my captivity. The only thing I could do was to wait it out; a mind-numbing task unless I found a way to distract myself. The cell became my first target.

My containment was nothing more than a collection of rock and crystals surrounding a flat floor. No doors, no bed, no openings for supplying food and water and even no, ahem, drains that would point to a place where one could relieve himself. The only reason I could even see everything that I was missing was the faint glow seemingly emanating from all around, the likes of which I’d never seen before. The bad news was that the crystals, randomly strewn among the slabs of rock, also reflected light, meaning I saw a scattered version of myself every time I approached a wall.

On the upside, at least it wasn’t as hot as in the trial chamber. As much as my mind started going blank in that place, the cooler air inside the cell brought it back to life with the first deep inhale. I needed something to do, stat, so I spent what felt like hours looking for the smallest crack or hole in the walls and ceiling until I eventually gave up and settled for staring into the crystals and rock formations. While there was still nothing there that would tell me where to relieve myself when the need came, there was at least something to take my mind off that scenario: The previous visitors were just as trapped as I was.

Scratches and letters were inscribed into the sides of the rock slabs that faced away from where the temporary opening was magically created to throw the authors, and myself, into this place. I automatically looked down at my hooves, but quickly decided that I didn’t want to have the time to wonder how they managed to carve into the rock.

Steel food plates?

I inspected the scratches further. Lines were drawn one next to the other and crossed out; somepony had counted the days they were trapped here, although how they managed that without a watch or a calendar was beyond me. This place was deep underground and it wasn’t like the Guards allowed any personal items in the cell if the fate of my uniform and saddlebags was anything to go by.

What did they do to those? The last I’d seen them, they were lying on the ground when the Guards escorted me here. Taken as evidence, probably. I really needed to focus on something other than the trial, so I took to the engravings instead.

It wasn’t the number of them that made me uneasy, or that there were actual scribbles mixed in with the random words and shapes, it was their uniformity that got me the most. Somepony spent an awfully long time here. The conclusion would stay with me for a while, I was sure of it. The only thing I could hope for was that I wouldn’t have to search for empty spaces to scratch my own messages into the rock out of sheer boredom.

For the first time since the train, while I was trying to piece together the cryptic lines in the rock, I felt my nose clogging up again and my breathing grow heavier; even my immune system had returned in full now that I wasn’t being sentenced to permanent confinement. How did they come to that, anyway? I shrugged. It wouldn’t be long before it didn’t matter.

The feeling of having my whole body held together by sweat now also returned. I didn’t bother trying to sniff out my fur to see how badly I smelled – by now I was too used to it to notice. The idea of a shower was now firmly implanted in my mind, though, but when I looked at the wall to the corridor, I noticed something that I had to scoff at.

The cell bore a striking similarity to me, in a way. Its walls were chaotic, thanks to the explosion of angled lines and reflective crystal, all leading in different directions. Condensation formed water droplets in the multitude of tiny indentations and scratches along the rock surfaces, and those droplets glimmered ever so slightly. I didn’t need to remind myself of how scruffy and sweaty I looked at the time to draw the connection.

How did I end up here?

The question was sudden, yet not aimed at retracing my steps or unveiling the path of wrong decisions I’d taken to get me here. It was a much more somber question, as I started seeing the alternatives to my current situation for the first time.

I could have been in Baltimare now, getting new assignments and talking to Silverline. The closeness of the possibility cut a dark shadow in my heart. I could have gone to the gym in the evening. With every scenario my optimism was ever more replaced by the thought that, yes, I’d done something unbelievably stupid to find myself in a strange prison cell instead of picking up points for my future in Baltimare.

This is about as far away from progress as I could’ve gotten, isn’t it? This won’t go away.

Even once the misunderstanding was out of the way, I’d have a permanent mark on my record. What can they do to me for this? The feeling that the mark wouldn’t be official was growing stronger the longer I lingered on it. I hadn’t known about the Council up until this point, and I didn’t even know there was a prison underneath the great mountain that Canterlot was built upon. This was going to be kept under wraps, there was no doubt about that, but what did that mean for my future?

Pearl…

That was an obvious answer, though I hadn’t heard her voice in the proceeding. Not that that was saying much, as I couldn’t say I heard every pony there speak. But my future would inevitably cross her path again, if nothing else than for leaving back to Canterlot on such a short notice. She would know I’d left, and probably why. Or will she?

Whatever the case, I’d get to face her again to defend myself for missing out on the rest of my assignments in Baltimare, whatever they were. Whether the repercussions would be threatening to my ambitions or not, that was not for me to say and in that light it didn’t really matter if they were real or arranged.

I got up and started doing slow circles around the cell, just enough to stretch my legs and free my thoughts. The ground moving below me became very interesting.

They’re going to throw me in the grinder for helping them out.

The sudden burst stopped me in my tracks and I looked up, blankly, into the side wall. No, I forced my legs to move again, Maybe not. They’ll get Carrot, they’ll get those two and everyone that’s helped them, and they’ll thank me for my help in all of this.

I stopped again, this time for a different reason. A half-smirk formed on my lips.

OK, maybe they won’t thank me as such. That was far more realistic, so I allowed myself to continue the walk in a touch more spirited manner. They’ll scold me for leaving to Dodge and I’ll be back at Pearl’s for another talk or some menial punishment, and that’ll be the end of it.

The positive ending to the scenario didn’t stop my thoughts about other possibilities, but they were now more expanding on the two possible outcomes; punishment or praise. There were a thousand different ways that either could go down, so I took some time entertaining ideas about both, trying to discern which specific way my future would go.

It was all in vain, I knew that – as much as I knew that I was stuck in a tiny holding cell until word came from whoever was in charge of the investigation that my story checks out.

I stopped again and peaked my ears. Then I held my breath.

Silence.

Nothing but silence in the cell. No tremor of ponies walking around outside, no nothing.

Oh… This is going to be a long day.

I’m not sure if I can say that the next minutes passed like hours seeing how I had no way to tell time. The downside of my newfound calm was the lack of any kind of stimuli that would keep my mind occupied, and the background noise that were the thoughts on scenarios was causing me a light headache. Or maybe it was the cold that returned. Either way, I needed to focus on doing something, anything to pass the time.

It was then that I realized how little I actually felt of my environment. There was heat, but that was coming from me thanks to the return of a light fever. And there was…

Nothing.

The air was stale and I couldn’t say if it was cold or warm. The floor was the same. I touched the wall to see if it would feel cold to the touch – no. The lack of noise was already obvious the moment the Guards left so all that was left was the strangely even light seemingly radiating from the rock itself.

“Hey!”

Even at the time I wasn’t sure why I shouted that out. The need to hear somepony came out of nowhere; that intense desire to know that there was someone else there and that you haven’t been forgotten. I didn’t wait for the reply that wouldn’t come and took a deep breath instead, only for two thoughts to crystalize in my mind.

First, it wasn’t the imprisonment or the lack of anyone to answer that was slowly driving me to panic. It was the stillness of… everything. Nothing changed, not the temperature, nor the light and there was no outside noise to begin with. Ponies just weren’t designed to be in a sensory-deprivation tank.

The second thought was a question. Why was I so certain that nopony would answer? Where was the logic in that? Everyone in Equestria has certain rights, no matter what they did to get themselves arrested – as seldom as arrests even happen. There’s only one prison in Equestria and even that one has a library larger than all the cells combined, as the tour we had there as colts taught us. Those ponies didn’t seem to lack pony contact, and that was how they seemed to me before I became old enough to understand all the jokes about them. Yet here I was, isolated from everyone and everything, and I had somehow decided that it was normal?

I’ll be here forever.

The thought started off as an uncertain statement, but grew into a definitive answer every time I popped back into my mind. Then it was joined by another one.

How long have I been in here for?

What if it really wasn’t hours but minutes? I looked around, frantically searching for anything that could help me determine the time. A small change in the brightness of the cell around me, any kind of shadows or sounds, anything that I could use as a reference. Terror slowly crept up on me until I could hear myself breathing like I’d run a marathon. I swiveled my head around like a madpony, until something clicked in my mind. We’d been warned of this in training, and I finally realized what was happening.

“STOP IT!” I shouted at myself, and threw my legs far apart as if to keep me tethered to reality. “Calm down.”

Panic would only make things worse. I couldn’t allow it to spread, and I knew just the technique for stalling it.

I started going through everything I could lay my eyes on. Lacking the needed variety of physical objects in my cell, that meant naming every part of my body I could see and touch, and the bones and muscles underneath it, to my best knowledge of anatomy. With every mouthed word, the small world around me felt less and less like a strait jacket. Even after the desire to break down the wall passed, I stood still for a long time, forcing my breathing to slow down and listening to my heartbeat as it got quieter and quieter, until I had to feel for a pulse to know my heart was still working and working normally again.

I can’t let this happen. Not to me.

Panic, that precursor to madness, was tamed now that I knew what to look for and I sat down in the corner with newfound resolve. From Ponyville to Dodge, I had been framed, and the truth will come out soon enough. The shock of the day, as it had been so far, cleared and I felt a heavy weight lifted off my chest.

“Heh,” I chuckled at that.

Here I was in a lifeless cell, locked away underneath a mountain thanks to the strangest trial I’d ever heard of in my life, and there was really nothing to worry about. Nothing, as long as I kept an eye out on my mind. Or so I tried convincing myself.

I slumped down on my haunches. At least I could feel something new; a light shiver in my legs. I don’t know how long I sat there, staring blankly at the wall, and when I dozed off, only that I was awakened by the sound of hooves slamming against the ground, as the two Royal Guards rushed into the cell before I could get up.

“What’s-”

The handle of the spear cracking against my skull made sure I didn’t finish the question. The dizziness and double vision worked with the pain to keep me curved up in a ball on the floor. Hoofsteps shuffled around me as I prepared for another blow.

“Is this your idea of fun?!” My jailer suddenly became chatty, only not in a good way. “What did you think was going to happen, huh? That we’d say, ‘Oh, there’s nothing here, let’s just forget about it?!’ Huh?!” He turned to leave as quickly as he appeared.

I craned my head at him, only to have a set of white legs cross my view. In a matter of moments, the two Guards pulled me up by my shoulders and dragged me out of the cell. The robed pony walked away, only he wasn’t going for the cavern.

“You should’ve taken the verdict like a stallion, or help yourself out. Not mess with our work. What, you think having them investigate some backwards town made it easier for your friends to hide? We’ll find them all, don’t you worry about that!”

My hind legs were struggling to keep me stable under the unyielding grip of the Guards that dragged me forward. The path down was lit only by the magic of the robed pony; meant only to help the Guards and himself see, while I skipped along, slipping on the jagged floor with every other step.

“Make us look the fool, will you… They gave you the benefit of the doubt and this is how you repay us?”

Any attempt at an answer was followed by a knee to the jaw by either of the Guards. When I felt a numb pain in the entire row of teeth on my right side, I decided to stop with responses and just let him go through the monologue.

“Stupid. Stupid is what you are.”

The dim light ahead revealed an outline of a concrete doorframe built into the mountain. It was the first sign of an actual structure I’d seen underground. The sharp edge where the uneven ground met the level floor snagged my hooves in a painful pull. If the situation would have been any lighter, I would have been thanking the Guards for holding me tight, and stopping a direct faceplant onto the now level floor.

I didn’t have much time to appreciate the straight, high ceiling or the narrow table to my right – signs of advanced civilization after the ragged cell – as I once again felt something catching my hooves, then being pushed away to the tune of a weird, almost jingling noise. Didn’t have the time to explore that either.

“Suppose you think this is all a big game?”

In the brief moment that he turned around to face me, I saw the dark orange eyes look at me, a shadow cutting across his brown face. Then came kick to the stomach that got me on the ground, but even that was just the beginning.

“Hold him tight.”

With a well-practiced swing, straight out of Crowd Dispersal at the Academy, the two Guards flipped me onto my back, only instead of cuffing me they strapped me to the floor with leather straps. I now saw what the source of the jingling was: Steel rings moving over steel plates, affixed to the concrete below. My view was short lived. The Guards grabbed my head and forced it up, level with my body. The gag and head strap came a second later. The goggles were last.

“Are you comfortable? Anything more we can get for you? No? Good! Let’s try to bring you to terms with yourself, shall we?”

The goggles were more like diving goggles than those used by Pegasi athletes, and I understood why the moment they fogged up. A faint glow of magic cast a round blob on the fog, until the lenses cleared and I saw…

Canterlot?

It was a sunny day in and I was standing in the middle of a road, surrounded by cafes and boutiques, as much as that didn’t make any sense. The towers of the Canterlot castle rose in the distance, partly obscured by the mountainside and ponies were walking about, as they would, only there was something off about them. Something in the way they cheerfully strolled about with energetic smiles and happy gestures that made me just a bit uneasy, if the fact that I couldn’t move or discern what they were saying didn’t instill enough discomfort in me.

Surprisingly, I could move my head, only to see more of the suspiciously happy ponies walking around. And they were all so bright, like the sun was shining through a magnifying glass, not that it seemed to bother anypony. They were just walking, talking, drinking their drinks and going in and out of buildings I couldn’t recognize. The whole street was white, white from marble and white from the glare. Even the cobblestone road beneath me was so bright gray it didn’t do more than make its presence known.

Where am I?

I’d never seen that street before. Much like the ponies around me, that didn’t feel right. Canterlot is many things, but a sprawling metropolis it’s not. If the scene would have taken place in any of Equestria’s mayor cities, I’d have no problem conceding that I was in an unknown part of town, but Canterlot I knew like the back of my hoof, and I’d never seen this before. Then it appeared; a sound so distinctive I knew I’d never heard it before.

I twisted my head around, if I can even say that, as I couldn’t see any part of my body, and I saw ponies craning their heads to meet the same sound. A machine was coming toward me, looking somewhat similar to the brother’s machine, yet different at the same time. It was smaller in every way, and from the front bore only a passing similarity to the locomotives that helped create the Cider Squeezy 6000. Neither did it have the sound or the electrical wizardry of that machine.

Instead, it carried at a slow and noisy pace two grinning Earth ponies, who were too busy waving to the passers-by to slow down for the disembodied head watching them approach. And everyone was happy, just so happy!

Then the scene shifted.

Now I saw a giant concrete building in the middle of a decrepit town. It fit into its surrounding perfectly; a dirty-light-brown monument with few windows in front of a row of small, equally brown apartment buildings and dried up grass. The sky had a yellow tint to it, a gentle mist diffusing the sunlight ever so gently. But it wasn’t the lifeless shell of a city that I was most interested in, it was the long line of ragtag ponies entering and exiting the large building directly ahead. From the distance, they were a thin black line, with patches of stained color where their clothes left gaps, a thin black line to mimic the thick black line rising into the sky above from the two chimneys of the factory, broken apart by patches of tinted sky where the smoke left gaps.

The building was on fire in the next scene. And in the fourth scene I was moving through dark alleyways hiding entire families; fathers scrounging from dumpsters as young fillies and colts slept in their mothers' embraces. The one thing missing from my journey so far, besides the lack of feel for touch and heat, was smell. Seeing the puddles and filth on the floor, I was thankful to have been spared that sense.

Poverty. Poverty was everywhere, on the streets and in the flats. Ponies with bleeding gums and broken limbs begged on the streets, as passers-by hastened their step to avoid catching the same fate by lending a hoof. Only the same faces appeared again, a few years older, taking their turn at the community kitchens and fighting with the older hobos on the streets for a place to spend the night. The corpses I’d stopped counting.

“Do you see that?!” the angry, heartfelt shout was timed with the removal of the spectacles, dissolving the vision instantly. “That is what you’re fighting for!” The manic grin finished off the display.

“Oh yes, I’m certain your friends didn’t tell you about that part now, did they?” he lurched at me, stopping just short of my skull and looking intently at me.

Then I saw it, the focus behind his eyes. I don’t know what he saw lying beneath him, but it wasn’t me. Nopony looks at another pony like that. It was a piercing stare, full of hate and pity; disbelief boiling over to the surface. No, he didn’t see me. He saw the whole idea that he was fighting against embodied before him and it wouldn’t matter if the pony on the ground was Desert Carrot or a random Specialist.

I was powerless. There would be no reasoning here, or mercy. Whatever I had hoped for when I sent the Council on Carrot’s tail was gone. Even if the Council could still be swayed, they weren’t here in the isolated chamber of visions. Only one of their henchponies was keeping me company with two Guards to protect him should I snap the straps or shatter the steel keeping me pinned to the floor.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

The words allowed me to take a deep breath. The show would go on for a little longer, each minute spent under the spell guaranteeing strange peace instead of seeking violence.

Go with it. Just go with it, was the only thing I kept saying to myself as the goggles found their way back over my eyes.

The skies were filled with wide white clouds that slowly moved around like giant icebergs through the sky, but the cyan pony flying next to me didn’t seem to mind. It must have been warm up there, for a Pegasus at least, as she swayed gently from left to right, cutting a snake-like path through the sky and taking me along for the ride with her, even though she never saw me. She kept nudging her head up and down, her eyes half-closed, enjoying the flight with every fiber in her body. It wasn’t hard to see why.

The small town below us was casually giving way to idle fields and green forests, birds flying low below us. It was so different flying without a chariot blocking the view down, but a thin cloud soon did that job instead. I looked back up. The white stream that had spoiled my view was merely the beginning of a giant cloud we were straying in. My guide woke from her daydreaming and straightened her path. The narrowed eyes focused on the cloud ahead and she soon flapped her wings like a pony possessed, aiming straight at it.

The cloud wrapped itself around us until there was nothing to see but the grayish-white glow of the behemoth. The Pegasus to my left didn’t flinch for a second, and now I could see the hint of a grin on her muzzle. We punched through the cloud a few seconds later, the happiness pervading her face now. She shook her head, droplets of water falling from her mane with each swing. The next moment, she looked right past me, up and to the right, at the next target. One inspired sweep was all it took to lock on to the cloud above us.

I could see her straining now, taking on speed and altitude with every flap of her wings, and an occasional glance at the forest far below told me where we were going next. Like it or not, I was being taken for the flight of my life, but before the inevitable loop down, she had to get through the cloud. The mist was already forming around us, blurring the vision ahead, when it happened.

In an instant, I stopped moving. The Pegasus flew ahead, as determined as before, and that’s when it shot out of the cloud. My heart stopped. A cloud of feathers flying through the air was all that remained in front of me. To my left, I saw a strange object rapidly dropping to the ground in a prolonged curve, pieces falling off as it spun. It took me a while to find the other end of that equation – a lifeless spec falling down below me.

The vision was just that, but the churning in my stomach was all real. I’d never seen anypony die before. I knew that I was on the verge of heaving. I could feel the muscles in my throat moving with the light jerking of my body, yet I was perfectly still, hovering at the height of clouds. Then I noticed the dark line on the horizon.

The sky was black now. I didn’t notice at first that I was no longer suspended midair, the black lake stretching out in front of me, reflecting the sky, made sure of that. Had it not been for the white outlines of dead fish at the shore, I might not have known for even longer. The forest behind me was no different, if I can even call a field of withered black trunks a forest. Tiny skeletons replaced the fish bones as the remnants of the usual population. In the back of my mind I felt anger and hate building up, but the sight I saw just moments ago still dominated my every thought. Not even a toxic wasteland could overpower that.

It was time to see what had caused this, I knew that, and it didn’t take long for my view to shift all by itself to a building complex further down the shore. Black-coated brick structures stood among massive cylinders, connected with the thickest pipes I’d ever seen. Open drainage tubes, leading from the buildings, dripped black liquid into the lake. And it didn’t make any more difference to me than the landscape before. If anything, I felt my breathing ease up among the black on gray on lighter gray surroundings that were there to further disgust me.

At least I wasn’t seeing anypony die before my eyes.

“You like that?!”

The scene was shattered with the shout.

“You enjoy seeing Equestria go to Tartarus?!”

The first kick nearly broke my ribs. The next tried to top that, as the Guards joined in. The straps holding me down strained against my body with every fruitless move I made to ease the blows. Then, just as quickly as the violence started, it stopped. The robed pony shook his forelegs and took a few short breaths.

“Don’t worry,” he said while catching his breath, “You’ll see more of it.”

He nodded. The Guards unstrapped me and dragged me back to the cell. I was on the floor before the portal closed, curled up into a ball. Numb pain moved from my back to my barrel, spreading from one place to another with every minute movement I made to ease it. I stared blankly into the wall ahead, just as bright as it had always been, and wondered if I wasn’t having the worst nightmare of my life.

And then I saw it: Light mist was forming in front of me and disappearing just as fast. It was my own breath. The temperature had dropped and I suddenly knew how the other ponies measured time, even if it wasn’t the most precise clock in Equestria. Despite the pain, I smiled at that discovery. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me in the next minute or the next days, but now I at least had a way of knowing when the next day will arrive.

Or will I?

The hidden chamber beneath Canterlot, the secret trial, the forced visions and the beating that followed. All those lead to a different conclusion.

No.

My smile vanished. Nothing was to be trusted here. The light was still the same as it was before. Whatever its source was, it was being maintained, just like the visions. So whatever was causing the mist was being controlled with the same level of precision and the same intention – to drive me mad.

I lifted my head off the ground, against the protest of my spine and every muscle in my neck.

They would be back for me soon enough.

Chapter 8 - Spriteworks

A circle of magic devouring the wall. Two Guards rushing in as the interrogator watches from behind. Being dragged off to the Projection Room, as I’d named it. Disturbing displays and beatings before being returned to my cell.

Rinse and repeat.

They never did let me sleep for long; just enough to make sure I wouldn’t collapse during the fun part. I soon realized I was being watched at all times after I forced myself to stay awake for the next cycle, if only to deprive them of the pleasure of shocking me awake. I dropped down from exhaustion when the Guards never came. Didn’t take them long to jump in after that.

The whole thing went on for days, assuming my way of measuring time wasn’t part of the show. A strange brown sludge was thrown into the cell every now and then to keep me from dehydrating and I was taken to a small nook in the walls to relieve myself, whether I had to or not, before the next display. The Guards never left my side on these occasions, but by then I was too exhausted to care. They also made damn well sure I drank the sludge. The idea of having to drink it through a straw didn't seem so appealing.

It's strange what days of near constant sleep-deprivation will do to a pony. My sense of stability went first. Then my vision got blurry and it wasn’t long before I was dragged back and forth like a drunk. Felt like one as well. I’d even started talking again, if I can call incoherent babbling talking, but they persevered. After a while all the scenes I was seeing blurred into one long mess of despair, broken apart by the movement from and to the cell and the brief shut-eye I got in between. Soon, even the despair disappeared and I was left looking at things that should have moved me but didn't.

“Hello?”

The migrating vision of my interrogator looking down at me, poking me with a hoof as the Guards stood by, let me know there would be no show this time. There was an expression of disappointment on his face. Begrudgingly, he turned to the Guards.

“Take him away.”

Much like the failed start to another round of visions, the way back to my cell passed in fragments. A few hoofsteps here, a moment of the walls moving by there, and then the image went still for as long as the motion lasted before it started again. I was a mop by then, being loosely dragged by my forelegs as usual. I got the feeling they gripped me more and more loosely with every passing, though I don't know if that was my body getting too exhausted and used to their grip to register the same force or if they simply saw no need to use full force. That said, for once I neither felt the impact, nor did I try to resist the fall when they threw me back in the cell. All I knew was that the cell got darker and darker.

Strange glowing lines on a black background danced before my eyes, warping and disappearing in grey and violet colors. Then the view turned entirely black and I found myself in the cell again, wide-awake and alert, only now I was floating below the ceiling. A mare was walking in circles below me, taking short steps and leaning onto the walls every few steps as she tripped over herself. She was missing patches of coat and shedding the hairs out of her mane and tail. Eventually, she sat down, wrapped her head in her hooves and whimpered. She was too quiet to make out the few words she said in between, but I did see something else. There were bloody hoofmarks on the wall where the opening to the outside would appear. There were a lot of them.

This was a nightmare, only of a different kind. There were no monsters or villains chasing me, no gruesome displays of violence or scenes of imaginative horror, only a mare in the same confined space as I was, unable to get out. A feeling of numb panic, that desire to act with no way to do it, gripped me as I realized I wasn’t sent here to break under interrogation; I was here to break, period. They were expecting me to die, either from insanity, starvation or maybe even suffocation. But the dream went on. The mare cried herself to sleep, the vapor from her muzzle becoming ever smaller. And then it stopped altogether.

I didn’t understand the message at first, not until I was forced to once again look at the mare. I was guided close the mare’s flank and the strange cutie mark on it. It was a rainbow colored apple.

Suddenly my view shifted with a flash. For a second I could see through the eyes of something as it was digging its way through a rock. A powerful voice called out at the same time, “Don’t fight it!”

The dreams than returned to the previous scene and I got to see the body of the dead mare dissolve rapidly. I wanted nothing more than for the nightmare to end, but whoever was showing it to me made sure I was always on the limit of waking up without allowing me to. The dreams only dissolved when there was nothing left but bare bones, and hooded ponies entered the cell with brooms and bags.

The walls and floor of the cell were swimming around me as I awoke to the sound of faint scratching from beneath, yet for all the motion around me, I couldn’t move. Not that I didn’t feel my legs, I did. Only they were more like wet noodles draped on the floor. They would move if I commanded them to, I just couldn’t find the will to do so. I probably wouldn’t have moved a muscle had it not been for that ever-louder noise.

I rolled to the side and put my ear to the ground. The scratching morphed into the unmistakable sound of digging when a different kind of sound appeared – muffled strikes against the wall of my cell, coming from the corridor side, multiplying rapidly. I listened for a second longer before I remembered the dream intermission. This was a rescue mission.

The ground beneath me cracked in tandem with the gateway flashing open in the wall, almost exploding into existence as if it were held back before by an impenetrable shield. Sounds of the Guards rushing to the cell and metallic clunks from the corridor entwined in a sinister symphony. The ground behind me exploded in a shower of stones. A terrifying creature leaped from the dust. Even in full back-paddle mode I couldn’t escape the grip of its claws or the demonic stare of its eyes. It grabbed me with a force I would expect from a dragon, and dragged me into the darkness below.

Without warning the creature’s claws sliced my back and dug in precariously close to my neck. Sharp pain radiated from the lines cut into my flesh as blood poured out, drenching my coat. I screamed into the void. But this wasn’t an act of malice.

Against the searing pain on my back, I felt my tail pinned to the edge of the tunnel. I could hear one of the Guards calling others for help in dragging me out, but the creature wasn’t having any of it. It whimpered an apology in the strangest voice I'd ever heard, then released its grip, catching me a split second later by the shoulders as I flew up and tugged with all its might just as a hoof made contact with my leg to grab it.

Searing hot pain shot through my hindquarters, but the sudden free-fall into the tunnel below numbed it instantly. As soon as we were clear of the Guards' hoof-reach, the creature dug into the sides of the tunnel it had bored, using its strong claws to slow us down. Then, as quickly as it had launched into the cell, it wrapped its paw around my barrel, pinning my forelegs closed and sending a fresh jolt of point down my back. Its muddy fur stuck to me in a close embrace, the stench of wet dog hair permeating my nostrils. Before I could as much as move my muzzle clear of its body, we sprang down into the darkness.

The sound of slow breathing matched the rhythm of the three legs now propelling us along the tunnel, grabbing the walls to slow us down and springing from turn to turn, up and down, along the convoluted path.

Between the pitch-black darkness of the tunnel and the dust, mixed with stench, forcing itself into my lungs, there was no reason to keep my eyes opened, yet I couldn't close them shut. I couldn't miss a single speck of light, were it to appear, if it meant knowing what was about to happen, even if the scraping of the tunnel walls against my coat told me everything I needed to know. When my hind hooves scraped against the rock, I hunkered down into the beast to avoid the walls of the tunnel.

The gashes on my back hurt like Tarturus, but that was nothing compared to what catching them on the rocks might do. My tail came to life as well, only it now felt as it was on fire. The bigger concern was that I suddenly found myself gasping for the ever-warmer air, yet despite the pain and the darkness, I somehow knew no harm would come to me. Not for now, anyway.

The creature’s breath drew shorter, the leaps and jumps became ever smaller, when I heard a familiar sound to the monotonous clashing of claws against the rock. There was another creature boring a tunnel, the sound growing ever louder, when the rock behind us exploded. Then the tunnelling continued, the sound going quieter again with every moment. Then it happened again, and again a few moments later, my heart skipping a beat every time another tunnel slashed across ours. I didn’t dare to crane my head back, but I did swivel my eyes as much as I could in a fruitless attempt to look behind. But the surprise came when I looked back ahead.

It was only now that I realized I could make out the outlines of the tunnel, sharp creases forming a winding wormhole. Then there was light. A moment later, we tumbled down into a crystal cave, the creature using its body to take the brunt of the impact, then releasing me awkwardly onto the floor. For a brief moment I felt a stab of panic. The cave was illuminated much the same way as my cell, only dimmer, and it was only when I saw the countless exists going in all directions that I knew I hadn't been brought to yet another cell. I stumbled off the ground and turned to finally take a clear look at the creature that had taken me from my cell.

I fell to my flank and back-paddled until I hit a wall behind me. The creature wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen. Standing in front of me was something with a big torso, huge limbs and tiny, evil eyes, with fluorescent orange where the white of the eye should be and no visible iris. It wasn’t a dragon, but then it also wasn’t a griffon and most certainly not a pony. Not from this reality, anyway.

Panting, with my back against a now blood-marked wall, wasn’t my proudest moment. Running away by itself was not the bravest thing to do, even if I could justify it under retreat & regroup, but I was in no condition to fight… that thing, whatever it was.

It’s fake, I tried telling myself, Just another illusion.. But the pain was too real, as was the blood making its way down the sides of my back, to say nothing of the breath coming from the creature’s crooked teeth. The damn thing was practically smiling at me. The it reached out with its paw.

“Calm now, pony. Calm.”

That was the breaking point. I blacked out.

When I came to I heard somepony speaking. Somepony I wish I wouldn’t hear. I closed my eyes as soon as I had opened them to feign sleep as the argument nearby continued.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes. We did everything we could.”

That second voice was also familiar.

“Why was this allowed to happen in the first place?”

“It was out of our control. I’m sorry-”

“Enough!” The barely contained shout was accompanied by a hoof stomp that went straight through my spine. She continued in a quieter tone a few seconds later, “This has been a mockery of our cause.”

“And I am responsible for that?” The question was said in disbelief, not defense.

“No. No, you’re not.” The unnerving pause that followed was her trademark, but I already knew that. What I didn’t expect was the apologetic way in which she tried to defuse the situation. “Let’s carry on.”

“Just like that? And do what, exactly?” the other mare suddenly hissed. “Half of us are in hiding, the other half are being watched and all we have to go on is the idea that this will somehow fix everything!”

“Now, don't -”

“Don’t you shush me!” She slammed her hoofs to the the ground. “This was your operation, not mine. I’m just an agent.” Even in my broken state I knew there were unspoken words after that.

“Ahem,” a third, male voice intervened, “How is out patient doing?”

The hoofsteps grew closer and I was already feeling around with my legs to see if I was tied down. I wasn’t. Most of the pain was gone as well; there was no time to waste. I looked at the approaching figures and rolled off the rock-hard bed, launching the cover in their general direction. By the time it fell limply to the ground in front of them, I was already standing with my back against the wall, ready to pounce. The next moment blood came rushing into my brain and the whole room began to sway, but I wasn't going to let them near me without a fight. I bared my teeth.

“Don't come closer.”

“I see you’re quite shaken,” the stallion nearly chuckled. “You were lucky you know. If she hadn't picked you up like that… Well, you’re safe now.”

I turned to face him, the aging unicorn with the blood-stained apron.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m not here to hurt you.” He pointed at the stained sleeves of his striped shirt, continuing the blood pattern where the apron left off. “I’ll send you the bill for this.” He smiled as I took slow steps back, then he prepped his horn. “Now, let’s take peek at how you’re doing.”

Magic enveloped my cannons, forcing me to stay put as the apparent doctor looked me over from all sides, as much as I would let him, anyway. I threw my head to the side he was on, trying to show I could still bite if the need be, but that was cut short by two things. First, the stabbing pain the moment I craned my head, and second, that I could now make out bandages, soaked in healing potions, that hugged my torso. A large part of my tail had been pulled out, with the remainder a plucked and torn mess.

The doctor let out a disarming snicker, then went on with his examination, going “Mhmm” and “Hmmm” along the way. I tensed up after the failed rebellion, expecting a needle or a kick at any moment. There was no telling how far the Council would go to get their way. Even a fake rescue wasn’t out of the question if the creature was anything to go by.

“Well, you seem all right.” He walked past me, then turned back and waved his hoof. “No, not that all right. I don’t swing that way.” He chuckled under his breath, before readying his magic and saying, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, there's one more thing we need to do.”

Of course.

A sharp pain to my shoulder signaled the needle piercing my skin and after a second I was completely clear headed. My vision was back to normal and I could stand with confidence once more. Whatever was in that concoction even made me perk up a bit and I would have probably been smiling in any other situation. While I was busy marveling and fretting the newfound optimism the doctor had already started for the doorway where the bickering mares waited. As he passed them, one of the mares nudged the other forward. From the shadows came a welcome face with a gentle voice.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. Okay?” The taximare patted the air with her hoof as if to reassure me from the distance. “They won’t follow us here, we made sure of that.”

“I hope you understand, Specialist Neigh,” the cold voice of my old nemesis cut through my heart as she squeezed past the taximare into the room, “That we’re not here to harm you.”

Manners-Mare Pearl was standing directly in front of me, legs placed outward, head held high, as if this was still the Academy and I was supposed to fall to my knees at her command. It didn’t help that I was starting to tremble all over thanks to all the medication and magic circulating in through my body.

With a barely audible voice I managed the question, “What is this?”

Pearl smirked and answered, “I’m glad you asked. Can you walk?” before turning around and walking out.

It felt so wrong to follow her, so misguided, yet my hooves started moving on their own, drawn to the promise of wider spaces outside. The moist, stale air didn't inspire confidence that we were about to walk into civilization, but anything was better than being stuck in another small room, even if it was an improvement from the cell.

The doorway led to a passage, tall stone walls meeting in the vaulted ceiling high above, moss and torn spiderweb filling whatever gapes they could find. What little light there was came in from the end of the tall corridor, where a triangular archway revealed the first few steps of a wide round staircase disappearing into the gray light above. Tiny droplets of condensation on the walls caught the light and carried it on in ever-changing patterns.

My mind was so fixed on the space beyond I nearly rear-ended the taximare, as the two mares came to an abrupt stop in front of me. There was an old wooden door to our left, its dark wood panels criss-crossed with cracks. Much like the corridor, it was far taller than it needed to be, although not reaching the ceiling. Yet its size wasn't the only odd thing about it. An odd glimmer of the massive hinges gave away the notion that they were new, at least compared to the rest of the corridor that had been left to decay with time. They were merely painted dark-grey to better blend in with the surroundings, and opened without a squeak.

A pale yellow glow greeted us from beyond, concentrated in orbs randomly strewn about the hall we were about to enter. Magical crystals, losing strength, occupied the walls and floor, while thick square pillars cut through the chamber on each side of the central walkway. From the entrance the shadows of ponies and fixtures was all that I could see, as the darkness slowly reclaimed the light. When the door closed behind me and my eyes adjusted, I could see why.

There were no windows here, only stone walls all around. The pillars merely helped with making the whole place feel even more cramped than it was. Hushed, incoherent voices suited this place, as did the ponies working in the shadows. At least I knew the voices weren't imaginary.

“We are sorry you had to experience this,” Pearl suddenly said, jump-starting my heart. “Semper reached you a few seconds short of success.”

The grotesque form of the creature that had taken me appeared in the corner to my right. It was slumped against the pillar, half submerged in the shadow it cast.

“You may rest here for a few days, if you need to. You should understand things more clearly after that. Before we go any further, though…” she looked back at the creature, “Semper! Apologize to our newest member.”

She stepped aside as the creature approached. It looked miserable; slouched. Its head as lowered, paws nervously fidgeting. Then came the timid voice, the kind that no pony would have expected from a creature as robust and ugly as that.

“I'm sorry. I caused your pain.”

I looked in wonder at the creature that terrified me to near death not that long ago. Now it was standing in front of me, nearly shaking and speaking in a simple, scared way, as if it was still learning the language.

“Couldn't dig fast enough. Forgive me.”

A moment of silence followed. I knew I had to say something. Anything really, but all I could do was to stare at the creature in front of me. It was actually standing nearly upright, like a small bear, its strange body defying everything I knew about ponykind and all the other species I knew could talk. This was… wrong. Pearl moved slightly toward me, enough to break my stare. I corrected myself on the spot and replied with all the dignity I could muster.

“I forgive you.” That was all I could say.

My heart was racing at that point, and I was quietly questioning what I had just said, but I had seen enough in the past few days for something like this to shake me up now that I had gotten at least a modicum of rest. And a hooffull of medication.

Semper gave me a pained smile before turning and walking away, if I can use that term for something that lumbers off in the way he did. Once again Pearl broke my stare when she indicated me to follow her. We walked silently through what must have been a luxurious, if private, hall, which gave me some time to assess my new surroundings.

A few chipped and dented file cabinets stood next to crooked tables, barely fit to carry the weight of the folders, documents and maps strewn about them. Oversized pots and pans lay stacked on the floor in-between two pillars, still dirty from whatever was cooked in them. Couldn't see the stove, though the shadows gave plenty of room for anything to hide. Near a spot of light on the other side, a stack of wooden boxes by the wall was accompanied by scruffy sacks of all shapes and sizes. We even passed metal storage chests, the kinds we had at the Academy, only these had dark brown streaks sullying their hinges. I could see remains of tapestry on the pillars and the walls behind them. Half-disintegrated picture frames had been pushed into a pile nearby.

“He's a Diamond Dog, you know.” Pearl announced as we neared the wall the end of the hall. Something in her voice let me know she didn't expect me to know that, yet that it was something I should have known in advance.

“A diamond dog?”

The outline of a table soon appeared, including what was on it. A pair of kettles were flanked by expensive-looking ceramic cups, loafs of bread and a small collection of basic food.

“Yes.” She made a deliberate pause as she reached for a ceramic cup on the table. “You have a lot to learn. Tea?”

I didn't care much for tea, but the piles of stale food around it were mesmerizing. Suddenly, I was in a different place. The decrepit hall disappeared along Pearl and everypony behind me. There was actual, real, food waiting for me and all I could now feel was hunger as the faint whiff of old bread and porridge wafted my way. Those aren't usually the most appealing things, but a few days without any real food would make the harshest food critic a raving fan of the two.

I'm sure I saw Pearl smile and nod with the corner of my eye before I began, or maybe it was all in my head. All I know is that from that moment, I was grabbing everything I could get my hoofs on and stuffing in in my mouth. Tea became a tool for making food go down faster and a few loud noises signaled a plate or two falling to the ground before somepony decided to levitate take the rest away.

The pressure building up inside my stomach forced me to stop, eventually. I could barely breathe. Yet this pleasant helplessness forced me back into reality. The table in front was a mess, covered in a giant pile of half-eaten bread, crumbled energy bars and spilled porridge. I quickly looked back at Pearl, if only to somehow apologize for behaving like a pig. She wasn't there. Instead, she was talking to some other ponies not far away. The missing dishes were neatly stacked against the nearest pillar. Everypony else seemed wholly uninterested at the stallion that now had a good chunk of their food on his coat and muzzle.

I wiped as much of it away as I could and took a walk of shame back to Pearl. My legs had never felt heavier. I was chock-full of food, barely containing my panting that seemed to drag me down to the ground with every step. But I wasn't hungry any more, or thirsty. The pain had gone away. Even the trembling had stopped, and now only one thing remained: To make sense of the situation.

“You really shouldn't be doing that, you know.” The doctor appeared out of nowhere, blocking my way to Pearl and looking uncomfortably interested in me. Energetic, too. “Stuffing yourself up like a Rain Day turkey!”

He let out a loud laugh and leaned on my shoulder. Ponies were turning heads, but all I could see were his large eyes trying to focus on me and rarely succeeding. The way his head swayed made me think he was drunk, but the lack of any kind of booze odor kept that answer at bay.

“Oh, wait!” He suddenly looked up to his right and rose a hoof to the ceiling, looking at nothing. “You don't know why that's funny, do you?”

“Is everything in order here?” Pearl startled him as she appeared by his side.

“Yes, yes,” the doctor started, apologetically waving his head and hoof around, “I'm merely introducing your protege to the Griffon festivals.”

One angry look from the Manners-Mare and an incomprehensible sentence from the doctor later and he was gone, back into the shadows from whence he came. Pearl decided to ignore the whole thing.

“I'll leave you to find your bearings. Then we'll talk. I need to make an appearance anyway.” She pointed at the taximare. “You've met Sapphire, she will tell you everything you need to know.”

Something stirred in my brain at that point. They way Pearl casually glanced at the taximare, no matter how buttoned-up she wanted to appear this whole time; a motion she never would have made at anyone in the Academy. I noticed the odd clash of colors next, one that was made stranger only by the way in which the colors complemented each other at the same time. One of the mares was standing next to a broken mirror, and I wasn't sure which one.

Pink. White. White. Pink.

The strangest thing happened as they noticed me staring. They smiled. Sapphire did so openly, Pearl held back, her smile coming more from her eyes, followed by the tiniest movement of her lips. But it was a smile.

“You’re sisters,” I blurted out in a way that made it sound as a single word.

“Twins, actually. Fraternal.” Sapphire quickly added as soon as I showed the first sign of confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

Sapphire squinted slightly just as I heard Pearl take a sip of tea, then she started explaining, “We’re not identical, that’s why-“

“No. I understand that.” I really did, only this was the first time since I'd learned that particular piece of information that I actually found use for it. I glanced at both of them, then said, in the same monotonic mumble as before, “I don’t understand, why. Why all this?”

“To keep us safe.” Sapphire had opened her mouth to speak, yet it was the voice of the Manners-Mare that shifted my attention. She had moved a step closer to me while I was looking at her sister, daintily levitating the cup of tea and carrying a peaceful expression on her face. She then looked past me, taking in the hall, and made a slow motion with the cup. “If this is what you meant, although I assume you didn't.”

The smug stare that crept into her peaceful visage was a strangely welcome return to normal, at least as far as I was concerned. The way she suddenly felt like walking again cemented that. She stopped as she was about to pass Sapphire, half-turned back at me and stared into her tea, gently swirling it around.

“How much do you know about the Equestria of old, before Luna was banished to the Moon?”

“Not much.” It wasn't a lie. Whatever I had learned about our history had been slightly diminished by the events of the last week or so, not that I could trust that the forced visions or that damn book were any more truthful. That reminded me to add, “Only what I read about in that book of yours.”

“Which one?” she surprised me. “The one about the trains or the one Desert Carrot gave you?” When I didn’t reply, she continued, “What, didn’t you think it was strange how easily the first one guided you to Dodge?”

She cocked her head back slightly as she was saying that, her eyes narrowing. She was starting to become more and more like the mare I knew, yet I got the feeling she was still holding back. I wasn’t sure how to react, only that the time for subservience had long passed. Pressure was slowly building up in my veins. And I wasn't the only one. Sapphire had developed an almost sullen stare.

“Of course, then you went and blabbered it all out to the Council, but we can forgive that. Nopony can be expected to withstand their questioning.”

There was one problem with the way she said that. She wasn't mocking me. Behind the cold stare I could even swear I saw a glimmer of compassion. That could only mean one thing.

They don't know. For all the information they must have had to find me, they didn't know I had informed the Council of Dodge voluntarily.

“Dodge was cleared in time,” she reassured me, mistaking my sudden slump for concern.

I nodded. “So what is this about?”

“The Kingdom is dead and we’re working on bringing it back.”

With that she started walking again, Sapphire signalling me to tag along before she, too, followed Pearl. The doctor had emerged from nowhere in the time we'd been standing still, and was now talking to someponies in the far end of the hall, near the door. I wouldn't have noticed him, had it not been for the nervousness he now showed, wiping his muzzle with his sleeve every few seconds and nodding at whatever the discussion was on about. I didn't have the will to conjure up theories about what was going wrong this time, nor did I have the time. Pearl stopped a moment later, near the familiar chests.

“We can't expect you to fight without knowing how to fight,” she started. “And we can't expect you to fight without knowing what you're fighting for. That, I will leave to Sapphire. As for the how...” She looked down at the chest and put her teacup on the other one. “In here are our greatest weapons.”

They are weapons chests, I immediately thought, just to rebuke her mentally.

A circle of magic enveloped the edges of the heavy lid and the chest opened with a screech of its rusty hinges. But there were no spears stacked neatly inside, no shields flanking them by the sides, or crystals to harness magic. Something else was stacked to the brim of the chest.

Books?

Row after row of books with faded, torn covers lined the crate. The titles were made up of words that hurt my head trying to read them, with the exception of a select few that dealt with magic and history. Suddenly, The use of isometric zone magic sounded downright familiar. The rest was all dynamics this and intertwining that.

“I don't expect you to know these by heart. I expect you to know how to use them. Knowledge is power...” she trailed off for a moment, looking at me, “And speaking of which, you have a lot to learn. I know I keep saying it, but it's true. This is the heart of the subterfuge. We are dismantling the False Empire one pony at a time.”

She finally noticed the blankness in my eyes, only she misread it.

“Even after all they did to you, you're still not convinced? You don't see that something is terribly wrong in this little Equestria of ours?”

I did. I wanted to shout out that I had seen things nopony should ever see, that I had experienced things nopony should ever have to go through. I wanted to unleash a roar to drown out all the voices and noises around me. But kept my mouth shut. I dared not speak. I wasn't sure what I was scared of more; the faint possibility that this was a set-up by the Council, or the notion that I had no idea what I was being dragged into. Silence was the only remedy for either.

“Celestia is a fraud.”

The hall went quiet at those words. For the first time, I heard more than a passing whiff of anger in Pearl's voice. There was pain in there, too, no matter how much she tried to hide it.

“It hasn't been a thousand years since Luna was banished, and she wasn't banished for hijacking the day. And you can forget about the three tribes founding Equestria. But I don't have time to walk you through it all.” She motioned to Sapphire without breaking eye-contact with me. “You'll learn all of that. But here's the really important question.” She came very close. “Where do you think you are? No, don't bother. Not like that. Where do you think everypony you know thinks you are?”

My neck squeezed tight. She didn't wait for my panic to manifest properly.

“As it stands now, you’re effectively banished from Equestria. North Isle Moures is where you are – officially – for the host of crimes you’ve committed.”

She calmly counted them off, like it was a shopping list and I was there to make sure nothing was missing. And there really was almost nothing missing. If there was an offence worthy of the Royal Court, it was there. If I didn't feel every word piling on my chest like a bag of cement, I would have felt surprised that murder and rape were not among them. Instead, crimes more befitting a traitor were piled one atop another, generally going by what the Council had accused me of, only now divided into more specific sub-crimes and anti-equestrian actions.

It was a perfect cocktail of lies. The gentle variation of the crimes made it sound plausible, if hard to actually pull off by a single stallion, creating an intertwining web of motives and actions that any Spire Daily reader would have no problem believing, nor snickering at. Even as I stood there, listening to the hatefully persistent voice narrating the ending of my life as I knew it, I saw Canterlot recede in a dark mist.

“Quite a reward for the lifetime of servitude you had promised them, no? Truth is, they wouldn't hesitate to drop you from the High Spire if it would make Celestia smile.”

They? I thought, before it became a scream. “They?!”

She flinched at that, the growing feeling of victory on her face replaced by something entirely else.

“What were you doing all that time? Where were you when they strapped me down and forced those things into my head?” Then the real question formed. “You knew! Why didn't you warn me? Stop me? Something, anything?!”

She looked away in a failed attempt to hide the remorse her body was betraying, not knowing whether to look down or at somepony else, eyes darting around in small increments to find something to latch on to. This, she hadn't expected.

“Why did you even choose me for... this?!” My voice broke. There was one thing at the end of that sentence and I wouldn't allow it to happen. I forced back the tears trying to escape my eyes until I finally collapsed to my knees. Better that than crying.

“I'm sorry.”

The ponies behind her were leaving the hall by the time I looked back at her, Sapphire rushing them out for a brief moment of privacy. Only when the door closed and we were left alone did Pearl continue.

“We thought you were something you're not.”

She came closer and bit the inside of her lip before explaining in as flat a voice as she could muster, “My agents can be overenthusiastic at times. Your admiration for the Squeezy gave them hope that you’d seen the light. Especially after you’d taken up research into it, even if we guided you along the way. Many ponies were amazed at how it produced cider; you were one of the few who wanted to know what it was. You saw the different world behind it. Or so we thought. That brought you to a snare instead. We hadn't predicted that.”

After a brief pause, she added, “You would have been the first of the future Royal Guards to join us. An invaluable asset.” The look in her eyes betrayed the potential she saw in that, yet something was lacking. “I see now that you were far from read to join our cause, but you've seen them for what they are, so I ask you now: Will you stand by us?”

“For what?” I spat out, as a hysteric laugh threatened to escape me. “It's done. I'm done.”

“Don't be so sure, Specialist Neigh.” The confidence in her voice returned as quickly as it had vanished, and I saw her pink eyes staring back at me with the intensity that only somepony with a true vision can hope to create. “I won't lie to you. There's a real mess out there. We're far and few between and Celestia has the whole Royal Guard at her disposal. But I am proof that there are chinks in her armor. And those chinks run deeper every day.”

she then added, almost mockingly, “Besides, you haven't seen the ace we're hiding up our sleeve. You'll never be a Royal Guard, Specialist Neigh. Not with that name, anyway. But we can still get you through the Final Stride.”

She held out a hoof to me and I saw the strangest sight I could have ever imagined. There she was; in the middle of the a dark hall full of jagged shadows twitching on the pillars, cutting everything in their path into broken pieces. There she was, my wingless angel.

I took her hoof.

“One condition,” I said the second I cleared my head of that image, trying to hide the fact that I was anything but convinced of our success, but I had nothing to lose either way. “You tell my father I'm not in prison.” She wanted to object, but I cut her off as calmly as she had spoken to me before. “No. You're still in there. You can make it happen. Get to him and let him know I'm fine. That's all. Then we get the others.”

“I can't jeopardize this operation.” The quiet response held a hidden fear and I pounced on it.

“No. We get them out. My father. My friends. We get them out.” I waited for a moment, to let her see I wasn't moving, then I added, “I'll tell them what I saw. They'll believe me.”

A few seconds passed before a quiet nod sealed our agreement, even if the fire faded ever so slightly from Pearl's eyes. Concessions had to be made. I didn't know how much of a chance we stood against Celestia, but I knew one thing: That everypony dear to me were next on the list if I wasn't found. And no matter how slim our chances were here, they would be safer here than out there.

As we walked out the chamber to regroup, I took in the chaotic scene around me in a new light. There was a an awful lot left to do here if we were to make anything out of this little revolutionary idea. We would need to turn the mishmash of parts that had created the mess into a coherent form, to bring actual weapons crates in with real weapons. We'd need bunk beds and all the facilities a training camp would require, if we were to build an army out of ordinary ponies. We'd need an open space to train for the fight that would inevitably follow, no matter how peaceful the current methods were. Supplies and ponies, that's what we needed most of all, though. Not books in chests.

It's never gonna happen.

The door swung open to reveal a concerned face backing off from the eavesdropping. Sapphire breathed a sight of relief at the sight of the two of us appearing unharmed from the chamber. The tension in the ponies standing to the sides dropped; the intervention wouldn't be needed.

“Do as we discussed.” Pearl dictated in a tone that revealed all too well that she was trying too hard to sound strict. “I'm leaving for Ponyville.”

A nod signalled the agreement between the two sisters, one walking away to the spiral staircase bathing in dull light at the end of the corridor, the other pointing back into the chamber to tell me all I wasn't told about the world as it used to be.

Only now did the name struck me and I did little more than whisper, “Why Ponyville?”

“They're quietly looking for you all over Equestria,” Sapphire replied, “She's going back to Ponyville for interrogations. It wouldn't look right to have her missing for long.”

Huh.

A moment before I stepped back inside, Pearl called out for me once more.

“Oh, one more thing! Agent Neigh? Welcome to Spriteworks.”