Chapter One: That's Right, It Starts With a Jailbreak

It was a well known fact that the land of Equestria was home to the three tribes of ponies. The Earth Ponies, with their innate connection to the land and ability to draw crops from even the most difficult soil. The Unicorns, possessing sharp minds and great magical prowess allowing them to perform amazing feats. The Pegasi, whose in-born ability to fly and manipulate clouds allowed them to control the weather itself. What was less well known was the fourth tribe. Mysterious and aloof, creatures of the night and of darkness, they were shrouded in legend and mystery. They were the Stygian ponies.

To much of Equestria, the Stygian ponies were little more than a myth. Bat-winged pegasi who had served Nightmare Moon during the Equestrian Civil War, they had largely vanished since their leader's banishment. Their numbers had recovered slightly since Luna's return, but they were still practically unknown in many smaller towns.

To many, Stygians were an ill omen, a sign of impending darkness. It was thought that they still served their long lost master, and awaited her return and the onset of everlasting night. For that reason, it was difficult for them to find employment outside of Princess Luna's Night Guard.

In other cities, Stygians eked out a meager existence scavenging at the fringes of society. They were feared, sometimes hated, targeted for violence. They slept in sewers, huddled together for warmth and stealing from garbage cans for meals. It was a hard life.

Even less well known than the surface-dwelling Stygians, however, were those who remained in their ancestral home. The bat-like ponies hailed from the networks of interconnecting caverns and catacombs that ran beneath most of Equestria, and in that subterranean darkness they served a purpose that nopony save for the Princesses knew and that nopony could survive without. The Stygians were the wardens of Equestria's most secure prison, Tartarus. This is the story of one such pony, and the adventure that shook the very foundations of her world.

Moonsong yawned and threw aside her blanket. The alarm clock at her bedside rattled and rang, just as it did every morning. She rose from the comfort of her bed into the chilly air, stretching her back and legs. The room around her was pitch dark, but she moved with grace and confidence. Each click of her hooves on the stone floor gave back an echo, picked up and amplified by her sensitive ears. They twitched and swiveled, tufts of fur at their tips drifting slightly behind. She made her way to the doorway, pushing aside the curtain and stepping into the main living area.

This was the most hazardous part of her morning routine, navigating the ever-changing layout of the furniture. Whether her roommates were unable to decide on where to put everything or they simply enjoyed trying to trip her up was a mystery. This room, unlike the last, was carpeted. The thick pile muffled her hoofsteps, stopping the echoes she used to navigate. Undaunted, she let out a brief chirp. The sound rippled across the room, reflected back from the furniture and walls, and returned to her. An image formed in her mind, pieced together by some process she couldn't begin to understand. Grinning, she picked her way through the maze. The bathroom door loomed in front of her.

“Nice try guys, but you'll have to do better to trip up this mare!” She called over her shoulder.

Her hoof lifted off of carpet and set down on stone. Wet stone. It slid out from beneath her, sending her sprawling on her side.

“You guys are jerks.” She muttered, hearing the muffled laughter of her roommates outside the door.

She picked herself up and stood at the sink. Her forehoof rose to the shelf, feeling the notches carved into the wood, and hooked around her toothbrush. Squeezing out a dollop of toothpaste, she set to work. A few minutes of scrubbing later, she dipped the brush in the basin and set it back on the shelf. A glass of water sat beside it. She took a mouthful, rinsed, and spat.

Her left hoof rose and lifted a washcloth from its rung beside the basin. She dipped it into the water and scrubbed her face, letting the cold jar the last remnants of sleep from her head. Hanging the cloth back up to dry, she pulled the plug on the basin. The water rushed down the drain, and she listened.

For the first time all morning, Moonsong opened her eyes and stared at the mirror. The eyes reflected in that polished glass were not the gleaming amber normal in Stygian pones, but a blank and slightly dull shade of gray. They stood out from a coat so dark it was nearly black. She ran her hoof through a mane the color of smoke. The cutie mark on her flank was a trio of curved lines, each larger than the next, representing an echo. She turned sharply and walked out into the main room. The smell of breakfast cooking wafted up from the mess hall down below, and her stomach rumbled.

“Morning Moonsong!” A cheerful voice shattered the peace and quiet. Glimmer, the officially unofficial backup alarm clock, seldom saw the need for an indoor voice. “I really thought we had you this time.”

Moonsong chuckled. “Nice try, but you'll have to do better. Did you let Breezy set it up again?”

“How could you tell?” The other mare asked, confusion clear in her voice.

“Really? He's a nice guy and all, but that colt's not exactly playing with a full deck.” Moonsong replied, smirking. “Or have you been blinded by your love?” She teased, drawing out the last word and fluttering her eyes. She could practically feel the heat of her friend's blush.

“Hey!” An indignant voice muttered from one of the other bedrooms. “I ain't deaf y'know!” Even muffled by the carpets, his hoofsteps were clearly audible. His voice was rough so soon after waking, his steps clumsy and irregular. He plodded heavily across to the bathroom, muttering under his breath all the way.

Moonsong rolled her eyes. She turned her head toward the source of his grumbling. “Up late working on your floor plan, were you?” She laughed at his grunting response. “This is the same way you arranged it last week.”

The distinctive sound of hoof meeting face reached Moonsong's ears, followed by Breezy's anguished voice.

“I knew it seemed familiar.” he sat heavily on the floor. “I can't believe I spent all night working on a floor plan that I already tried!” He sighed. “I'm so tired right now.”

“All night?” Glimmer asked, shocked. “There are only three chairs and a table!”

:”See how clearly you think at three in the morning.” Breezy muttered, “I need coffee.”

Moonsong threw a foreleg around the despondent colt's shoulders.

“Don't let this failure get you down, my friend!” She said, putting on her best dramatic voice. “For are there not countless nights ahead in which to come up with even better plans?” Her eyes met his. “Buck up my young lad, you may yet pull the wool over these eyes of mine!”

She dragged him onto his hooves, eyes fixed on where she knew his to be.

“Just listen to old Moonsong my boy.” She was nearly shouting as she put one hoof to his chest. “Within this shell beats the heart of a champion, and I'll not let such potential go to waste! I wanna see a brand new layout tomorrow morning and I want you to be well rested and ready to attack the day!” A fierce grin played across her face. “Think you can manage that, kid?”

Breezy chuckled. “First off, Ma'am yes Ma'am!” He said, one hoof clicking against his forehead not in frustration but in a salute. “And second, I'm a year older than you. Don't call me kid.”

She let her wingtip flick him in the nose as she turned. “Manage to trip me up one morning, and I'll call you whatever you want,” She smirked as she walked toward the door. “kid. Now let's go and get something to eat.”

The three friends stepped out into the hallway, Moonsong allowing her nose to lead her in the direction of food. Glimmer and Breezy flanked her, talking animatedly all the while. The hall had been carved out of the living stone, naturally formed caverns enlarged and leveled through years of work. It was merely one small portion of a tremendous underground structure deep below the base of the mountain that supported the city of Canterlot.

A few turns and a spiraling stone staircase took the trio to the mess hall. As they passed through the thick curtain that hung across the doorway, the smells and sounds from within washed over Moonsong. The casual chatter of ponies enjoying their meals, the tantalizing aroma of cooking food, it was all nearly overwhelming. Glimmer and Breezy took the lead, making their way to a table with three empty seats. After staking their claim, they waded through the sea of activity to the serving counters.

The line was long, and the smells mingling in the air made the wait all the more unbearable, but eventually the trio was able to get their orders. The carefully balanced trays swayed slightly as the ponies carrying them set off for a less crowded area.

“Is it me or is this place more crowded than usual?” Glimmer asked as she narrowly avoided spilling her meal all over another diner. “Like, a lot more crowded?”

“Beats me.” Moonsong answered cheerfully. The tray on her back held all of her attention. A steaming omelet loaded with fresh peppers, onions, mushrooms and cheese sat opposite a cup of coffee so dark it seemed to absorb all light that touched its surface. Her wings were extended, each resting on the shoulder of one of her companions.

Breezy said nothing, merely plodding along. His tray sat between his wings, somehow maintaining perfect balance. He may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he had an absolutely uncanny sense of balance at times.

The three seats were still open, waiting to be occupied. The trio sat down, eager to enjoy the meals that they had worked so hard to transport. Moonsong picked up her fork, speared a chunk of her omelet and began lifting the cheese-dripping morsel of delight to her mouth. Just as she was about to take that all-important first bite, imagining the explosion of flavor as the tastes mingled on her tongue, a deep rolling thud shook the floor beneath her. An alarm began to blare. The klaxons cut through the mess hall chatter in an instant, setting everypony in the room on high alert. The speakers crackled, and a voice boomed out.

“Attention all guards, there has been an explosion in cell block seven. This facility is on lockdown until all prisoners are accounted for. Report to your assigned wings immediately.”

Food forgotten, Moonsong jumped to her hooves. She ran, not thinking about where she went but allowing her speeding legs to carry her along the path they knew so well. Her wings flicked out now and then for balance and to help with turns. She uttered a constant stream of high pitched chirps as she ran, the echoes painting an ever changing portrait of madness in her mind. Guards ran every which way, each dead set on reaching their assigned wing as quickly as possible. She darted nimbly through gaps and leaped over the backs of others when needed.

Those others, she thought as she ran, placed too much trust in their eyesight. How else could she be moving so much more efficiently than them?

Soon, the tunnel opened up. Before her stretched the vast expanse of the cell block. Cages of enchanted iron filled most of the open space, all manner of creatures chained within them. She spotted the meeting place for her group, spreading her wings and flying across the intervening distance.

She slid to a landing in front of her supervisor, wings snapping to her sides and hooves clicking together. She snapped off a crisp salute and stood at attention. She listened, but could hear no other ponies around. Something felt off.

“Moonsong reporting for duty, Sir!” She said. “Any more details about the explosion?”

“Just one,” the older stallion began, regret in his voice. “A pony was sighted loitering around the area just before the bomb went off. Black coat, gray eyes, an echo for a cutie mark.” He sighed.”I'm going to have to take you in for questioning.”

Author's Note

Alrighty then. Throwing another tale out there. I've wanted to write a story with a Stygian (Bat pony) lead for a while, and this new EQD contest thingy is my perfect excuse. I just need to finish and submit it by the 31st of October.

To anyone who's been following my other story, Catatonic, I've not abandoned it just yet. I've merely struck a bit of the writer's block. Kinda wrote myself into a corner and the only way I can see out is through a contrive coincidental plot twist.

So, her goes another fun little tale. Let me know what you think guys, otherwise I'll never get any better at this stuff.

Long days and pleasant nights, my friends!