Blade

Ponyville was still Ponyville, and Dashclad had still ended up there by destiny’s guide. Having spent the last three days making her way over and sleeping in empty caves at nights, she finally touched down just inside the city’s town square. Around her were many ponies just minding their business, selling, buying, and some trading.

She had expected to be noticed immediately, but not a single head turned when she had descended from the sky and landed her hooves on the cobblestone. It was as if it was completely normal for someone to just fall out of the sky.

Literally having never left the hive’s territory, there were so many things in this new place she had never laid eyes on. She looked just past one of the caravans to see a small rounded hill made of wood and topped with straw. Upon closer inspection, she could see there were holes in its sides made from glass and through it; she could see a pony sitting in a chair, reading a book.

Unfortunately, Dashclad hadn’t the slightest clue what a book was, and she certainly didn’t know that those wooden hills were houses.

Overrun with confusion and a weak fear, she looked in the opposite direction to see a large tree in the distance. It also was decorated with the glass holes and it had a rectangle at the base. This was the one object she recognized; a door. However, she had only seen them made of metal in the underground society. This one was wooden.

Why are these things so obsessed with wood? She thought to herself.

Looking back in the direction of the cottage she still didn’t understand, she noticed another pony was staring at her.

Out of all the things she thought would fill her the first time she met another of her kind, she did not picture it would be panic. It was too sudden and almost rabid.

Oh shit. Oh no! She thought.

The pony now appeared to smile widely and started trotting over to her.

No! What if I say something stupid? What if it doesn’t even speak my language!? Her mind raced. Oh no! Oh shit! What if they find out who I am!? Oh god! What if they hang me!?

The pony drew closer, still smiling.

What if these guys are savages? What if I chose the wrong town!?! I bet they’d love to see a diamond dog swing from her neck! OH GOD NO!!!

In her panic, she started backing up.

*CRASH*

“Hey! Watch it! You tipped my cart!” Yelled someone angrily.

Dashclad cleared the stars she was seeing by shaking her head. An angry, but upside-down pony glared at her from above. She then noticed she was on the ground and looking up. Around her, were daisies scattered all about. She scrambled to her feet and put on an awkward grin.

“Oh, uh…I’m sorry, pony.” She said, backing away again.

The angry pony titled her head, muddled by the strangeness of Dashclad’s clumsy sentence.

Backing up again, she bumped into something a little softer that didn’t tip over. Instead, it made an ‘oof’ noise that sounded not stressed, but prepared.

Startled, she whirled around to see it was the pony that had been approaching her earlier. She let out a stifled yelp, surprised.

The pony was a pegasus. She had a grey coat and long blonde hair. Her eyes were just slightly crooked, but not erratically so. She was smiling very widely.

“Hi!” She greeted warmly.

Dashclad didn’t know what exactly to say. She looked frantically about at all of the things in the square again, all of the wood and cobblestone surrounded by brightly colored creatures just like her. She worried then that she would never understand how these things worked and become an outcast, not welcome anywhere. It was a quiet but strong panic mixed finely with dull fear. It was culture shock.

Dashclad’s eyebrows tensed, making her appear afraid. Without thinking, she sunk her head down as if she were cowering. Her mouth trembled open, trying to think of a response on its own.

“I-….uh…I-i….” she managed.

The pegasus didn’t pick up on this and only continued smiling.

“I’ve never seen you around, you must be new!”

She was new, and knowing this horrified her.

“I-I…I…” She repeated.

“My friends call me Derpy!” She beamed, placing her hoof on her chest. “Welcome to Ponyville, friend! You’re safe here!”

At this, something in Dashclad softened the panic enough so that she looked around her and took a moment to think.

She noticed that nobody was really frowning. The sun was shining and the plants surrounding, planted and natural, were as green as can be. What appeared to be friends were talking with visible smiles and hardly audible laughs and giggles. There were no guards with spears or guns. Everyone appeared to be living life in peace. She hadn’t been there for five minutes and the pony she had never met had called her ‘friend’. She got the feeling like everything was right with the world; something she had never felt herself before. All the lies fed to her about her own kin really had no reason to be fabricated. In nothing more than those brief moments, had she decided that there was nothing to hate about her race.

The panic faded. Her brow relaxed and lifted. She raised her head and looked around for another bit and then back at the pegasus. She was still smiling.

In return, Dashclad spread a smile of her own.

“Thanks.” She finally replied.

At this, the pegasus’s smile opened, revealing her teeth and raising her bottom eyelids.

“No problem!” The pegasus grinned back. “What’s your name?”

Dashclad’s reply was automatic; “The name’s Dashcl-“. She cut herself off.

Wait. What if these ponies know how to figure out Hound names?

This was the perfect time to change her name. In fact, it was probably the only time she could. So she thought.

“Uh…Dash. Just Dash.” She said uncreatively.

“Well, nice to meet you, Dash!” The Pegasus said back, loudly. “You want me to sh-…”

The pegasus’s eyes crossed subtly as her smile faded.

“Do you want me to sh-…Sho-…” she struggled. “Do y-you.. w-want me to shhhh….ow you around T-own?” She finally spat out.

Dash tilted her head. “Uh…What was that about?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Derpy apologized. “Sometimes I can’t say a word or even a whole s-…” She started again. “Sen-…t-t…Tense.” She appeared frustrated. “Like that.”

“Shit, that’s one bad stutter.” Dash said rudely without knowing.

Derpy didn’t mind. “Yea, it kind of is. I have 'cerebral palsy.” She pronounced carefully.

“Well, that sucks.” Dash replied sincerely. “Nice to meet you anyway, Derpy. I guess a tour around town would be nice.”

Derpy’s smile returned instantly.

“Oh boy! Where should we start?”

The pegasus wrapped her forearm around Dash’s neck, shocking her.

“Oh! I know!” She exclaimed.

Derpy then dragged Dash away from the town square and toward the library.

The tour didn’t end for the rest of the day.

The cottage was almost clean now. All of the cobwebs and such had been swept away by hoof. Pinkamena was satisfied with it now, but still felt like it was necessary to be thorough.

As she reached the end of the main hallway, she came across a closet. She hadn’t noticed it yet. She thought she had

been in every part of the house by then, but this little area had somehow slipped her activity.

Opening the door, she noticed that it wasn’t a closet, but a door that opened to a hatch in the ground. A trapdoor of sorts one might have called it.

Curious, she grabbed the black knocker attached and lifted it up.

It was a ladder, only wide enough for Pinkamena herself to hardly use.

It would be silly to just close the hatch and not look back, wouldn’t it? So Pinkamena crouched into the closet and grabbed onto the ladder, descending it carefully, knowing perfectly enough about dry-rot and how it could snap anything this old.

When she reached the bottom of the ladder, she turned around and saw a very short corridor leading to a metal door.

Once again, having gone much too far to so stupidly turn back, Pinkamena went to the door and pushed it.

Being metal, it was quite heavy and hard to budge. Putting her shoulder to work, she had the door open shortly after a very loud and rusty series of creaks and strains.

It was too dark to see what was behind the door.

“Hrmmm…” Pinkamena mused. She wouldn’t give up so easily.

Looking up, she saw a thin chain connected to a dusty light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Smiling weakly in her miniscule victory, she reached up and pulled the chain.

Luckily, it still worked and flooded the room with a dim, almost dark-red light.

Pinkamena’s jaw dropped at the enormous room below, at least fifty by sixty feet in size. It was practically a small warehouse.

The staircase in front of her was wooden and dustier than anything she had seen in the house and the floor below was solid stone. In the middle of the room was what appeared to be a steel conference table. What it had previously been used

for, Pinkamena couldn’t figure in the slightest.

She descended the steps and investigated. Trying to move the table, she failed, as it was bolted to the floor. Now actually on the ground and having a clearer view of the still dimly lit basement, she noticed that there was something mounted on the west wall in a frame. Approaching it, she saw that it was a large collection of hunting knives.

Testing this, she found it was not bolted to the wall. So she took it down and looked at the interior contents in wonder.

The knives were incredible. There were about seven of them in this frame alone. Each getting bigger the closer it got to the bottom.

The bottom knife was not really even a hunting knife Pinkamena thought. It was a carving knife, almost as long as her forearm. It looked unbelievably sharp as well as it was long.

Giles

Pinkamena gasped, frightened, and dropped the frame. The glass shattered as it hit the floor.

She thought she had heard the voice for a moment.

She frantically turned around and started darting her eyes around the room, hyperventilating.

“Hello?” She called, cold with dread.

She waited.

Minutes passed, and the only thing she had heard was a steadily dripping pipe.

She sighed.

Pinkamena came back to her senses and looked down at the shattered frame. She sneered at the broken glass. Disappointed at her clumsiness, she picked the frame back up and removed the knives.

Making sure not to cut herself, she very carefully made her way to the steel table and placed them all down ontop of it neatly.

Tired, she didn’t feel like cleaning up the broken glass right then and decided to let the frame stay on the ground until she returned.

Pinkamena climbed back up the stairs so she could resume her cleaning. She looked back down at the enormous basement and had the strangest feeling she would be using it quite often.

With that, she pulled the chain on the light bulb and re-darkened the room. Pinkamena then turned around, went out the heavy iron door, and pulled it firmly shut.