Peering through the trees, Charlotte and Amity eyed the entrance to the drain pipe. There was only one guard patrolling the path along that wall. He was vigilant, but he couldn’t watch the whole area at once. The one problem they were faced with was timing it right as to not be heard. Amity noted that the river flowing into the Water Plant grew fairly deep on its way to the pipe’s entrance.

“I can’t believe they don’t have this area guarded more.” Charlotte whispered and flipped her tail excitedly. “It almost seems too easy.”

“Most ponies don’t bother coming out this way at all, let alone at night. I don’t think they believe anypony even knows about it.” Amity chuckled softly. “How well do you swim, by the way?” she asked.

“Swim?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know how?” She asked sarcastically. Amity shot Charlotte an irritated look and explained.

“I think it’s the only way we’ll be able to get in there without being noticed. Every other way is either too loud or involves going out into the open. So seriously, can you swim or can’t you?” Amity asked again. Charlotte told her that she could, but not very well. “Shit…I mean shoot…now you’ve got me doing it... Well, I guess you’ll have to hang onto my tail and we’ll take it as slowly as we can.” Amity shook her head in frustration. “Come on, it’s now or never.” Amity gulped nervously as she stepped into the cool stream water as quietly as she could. She turned back to Charlotte and added, “Oh, and whatever you do, don’t make a sound. We can’t risk being caught.”

“No shit.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, or at least the one that wasn’t still swollen shut, and joined her friend in wading into the running water. It wasn’t long before they were swimming chin deep in water, slowly progressing to the drain. Amity was grateful that the water was flowing in the direction they needed to go in, it was hard enough holding up poor Charlotte with the help of the current. They’d be doing a lot worse otherwise.

The constant fear of the guard rounding his way back around the corner pushed them to speed up, and not a moment too soon. They managed to slip beneath a small bridge as the guard rounded the corner. With their breaths held and clinging to the dirt and rock along the bank, they tensely watched as the guard crossed the bridge a few feet above them. His hooves clopped loudly on the wooden planks overhead and they could hear him mumbling complaints about the hours and his wage.

When he could no longer be heard, they let out a small sigh of relief and continued swimming. The stream carried them quietly into the pipe entrance, which thankfully had a floor beneath the water that allowed them to walk rather than swim. Alternately, to their misfortune, the pipe was a lot narrower than they had anticipated. Moving in single file they had no problem going through it, but it became hard to not feel claustrophobic with only a few inches of room on any side of them but forward and backward. In spite of their discomfort, it’d be almost impossible to turn back then, so they quietly pressed on through the neck deep water.

Eventually, they relied upon the light of their horns to see. Amity’s magic still was sputtering strangely, but at least she was able to keep control of it. She noticed that on occasion little streaks of color still popped and flowed in her magic. She hoped desperately that her friend couldn’t see the display. The last thing she needed was another thing to worry about. As they walked on, the tunnel began to feel narrower and narrower. What was worse, there seemed to be no end to the tunnel. Charlotte began muttering nervously that it seemed unnatural that the tunnel went that deeply into a building.

“We should have reached the end by now, shouldn’t we? W-we have to have!” Charlotte began to panic and started shouting fearful fantasies of death in a tunnel. Before Amity could speak, her hoof slipped on the floor beneath her, tripping them both up and pulling her head beneath the water. Both magics lighting their way had flicked out and Charlotte shrieked in the sudden darkness as Amity pulled herself back to her feet.

“Stop! Stop it, Charlotte!” Amity said firmly to calm her friend as she relit the magic of her horn. “We’re going to be fine, the tunnel is just deeper than we anticipated.” She assured. “Now come on, we need to keep moving. Be careful too, the floor is kinda slick.” Amity began walking on, Charlotte reluctantly following close behind. As they progressed further into the tunnel, they began slipping more often and found that the sound of moving water was becoming louder and louder. Before much longer, they were struggling to keep their footing as the tunnel began to slope downward, making the water move faster.

The sound of falling water came closer and louder until Amity could swear they were standing in the center of a waterfall, especially with how much water was rushing past her. She was certain that Charlotte was saying something to her, but above the rush of water, she could barely hear herself think. Suddenly, Amity let out a yelp as Charlotte slid into the back of her. With the force of the accidental push, they both lost their footing and were swept away down the tunnel with increasing speed.

The tunnel deepened and its incline became much steeper as the water pulled them along. Thankfully the tunnel also became wider again as they were battered against its walls. Before they could process much more than attempting to keep their heads above water, the end of the tunnel came into view, bringing with it a blinding light. With a failed attempt at screaming amidst the water around them, they were soon plunged from the end of the pipe and down into the processing pool waiting far below.

Seconds felt like minutes as Amity endeavored to reach the surface of the pool. The weight of Charlotte once again clinging to her tail and legs felt terribly heavy and slowing. As her head broke the surface of the water, time sped back up with the impact of a wrecking ball. The hum of machinery could be felt in the very water, and became louder at the surface. It was disorienting as they struggled their way to the edge of the pool where they were able to heave enough of themselves out of the water to relax. Gasping for air, they lay, simply breathing for some time.

“Remind me…to never go into a tunnel with you ever again.” Charlotte croaked in a waterlogged voice. She coughed up little bits of water before resting her head again. They were both fairly scraped up and bleeding a bit, but were overall in surprisingly good shape.

“Remind me next time too.” Amity chuckled weakly. Once their breaths had been caught and they had wrung some of the water from their manes and tails, Amity and Charlotte dared to peer over the upper ring of the pool. “Strange…” Amity whispered. “This pool isn’t even full. Is it even possible for them to process magic and silt from water this quickly?”

“I don’t know, but your Dad was a great scientist, didn’t he get some sort of efficiency award some time back?” Charlotte replied. Amity nodded only slightly, clearly disinterested in talking about it. “Well… there appear to be no guards around either, shall we make a dash for the stairs then?” Charlotte changed the subject.

“Yes…but keep close and walk quietly, there could be guards around any corner. The last thing we want to do is to get caught now.” Amity motioned for Charlotte to follow as she hoisted herself up over the edge of the processing pool. Once they were out, the mares made their way to the metal staircase lining the wall west of them. They only stopped once at the sound of a shutting door in the distance, but opted to not waste time.

Continuing to lay low, they made their way up the staircase as quietly as possible. The platform at the top led to two different hallways to the right. There was a row of complex and strange looking machines lining the left side of the platform, overlooking the processing pools. It seemed that this heightened position allowed for scientists to regularly control and check the progress of the machinery below while being ever-close to the paperwork of their offices.

Amity and Charlotte peered cautiously around the corner of the first hallway. The sound of voices could be heard, but they were distant and indiscernible. Nopony was in sight, so they ventured slowly into the hallway. Amity was sure to check the doors for their nametags as they passed. She may have had the floor plan of the building, but she had no clue as to which office belonged to her father. At the end of the first hall, they found it looped around to the other hallway. But a door stood well lit along that wall, and this is where the previously muffled voices were originating from. Pulling Charlotte back a bit, Amity whispered as softly as she could that they would sneak past the door and to therefore be more cautious than ever. Charlotte nodded nervously and followed as inaudibly as was possible.

The mares approached the door quickly enough and could read the word ‘security’ written in bold black letters upon the door. This sent a chill of worry down Amity’s spine, but they needed to press on. Inside the room there appeared to be off-duty guards taking a break. They were in a heated debate about the virginity of a mare one of the guards had been with recently. Amity flinched as they continually berated the absent mare, clearly emboldened by the fact that nopony but the one stallion that cared was within earshot.

“Aw, she ain’t nothin’ but a floosy!” A stallion exclaimed in laughter.

“Oh come now, Buck Shot, she isn’t that bad. She’s a nice mare, and her cooking is like eating a slice of heaven.” The defending stallion said.

“Aye, Grit, she’s surely experienced. About as experienced as a fish is to water. She’s seen ‘em all up close by now I reckon.” A third voice chimed in. Laughter ensued again. As they passed by the door, Amity caught a glance inside at the stallions in the conversation. They sat around a table playing cards and smoking. If only from disgust at the conversation, she and Charlotte exchanged looks and stopped briefly near the door to listen.

“THAT'S ENOUGH, BUCK SHOT!” the one named Grit shouted, slamming his hand of cards down. “I can't stand to listen to you nimrods anymore! I’ve not fallen in love with a strumpet." he growled. "I’ve fallen in love with an amazing, strong mare that was willing to do whatever it took to care for her children. And I have no intention of leaving her to the fate this Godsforsaken town has forced her to! I'll do whatever it takes to help her, even if she doesn’t feel the same about me.” Grit threw his chair back and he stomped towards the door, clearly done with the other stallions in the room. All of whom sat in stunned silence.

Charlotte shoved Amity to move as the sudden realization came that he was going to leave the room with them still standing just outside the door. They shuffled silently around the corner just as the door swung forcefully open. With one last snort of disgust, the stallion slammed the door shut. He then stood silent, thinking for a while before thankfully stamping off in the other direction.

They watched, pitying the poor stallion when, with a nudge, Amity motioned for a tearful Charlotte to follow her into the hallway. Subdued, they found her father’s office, which to Amity’s relief was unlocked, and shut the door behind them. The room was lit up just a bit by the computer monitor upon his desk. Letting out a sigh of relief, Amity turned to Charlotte, who was sobbing silently.

“Are you alright, Charlotte?” Amity whispered. Charlotte nodded and wiped tears from her snout and unswollen eye.

“I think I know the poor mare they were talking about.” She confided. “It must be Ms. Janet Hearthswell. You remember, the widow of poor Mr. David Hearthswell? Their bakery was on Main Street, just near the market.” Charlotte whispered solemnly. “Before he…disappeared.”

“And before he returned…” Amity winced. She remembered them quite well, she assumed everpony did though. The memory of his burning corpse upon the post lingered in the minds of everypony who dared pass Main Street. He was one of the unfortunate souls who had been disappeared and then returned as one of the King's 'sacrifices.’ He was found early one morning in the town square, a week after his disappearance.

It had been his dying screams that alerted the townsfolk of his return. And the town, being as it was, left the ruined body untouched for months, decaying and all while evicting his wife and children from their home in the meantime. Mrs., now Ms., Hearthswell seemed to fade into the poorer side of town, as was usually the case with the families of the sacrifices. They were rarely heard from or about anymore at all. An overwhelming sadness filled the room, and it made them increasingly aware of the fact that there was something horribly wrong with the town they lived in. Nopony was safe there, not from the King, not from the forest, and most certainly not from their own leadership.

In an attempt to brush off the lingering gloominess, Amity busied herself with rummaging through her father’s desk, revealing nothing but daily reports and graphs. Charlotte began to help as she turned to rummaging through the filing cabinets. It was mostly all more reports from years past, until Charlotte called her attention to a small symbol on the corner of one of the cabinets on the far side of the room. Recognizing it to be the same symbol as was on her father's floorboard, Amity grinned with reinvigorated hope and proceeded to the cabinet, searching for anything of interest.

They were all just more files until she reached the bottom drawer. This drawer was heavy and contained a metal safe on the back. She was sure that most offices had one in this plant, but there was no telling what secrets lay inside that of her father’s.

“How do we open this stupid thing though?” Amity mused. “As far as I know, my Dad was the only one who had the key to anything in his office. And it’s not like we can just go and ask administration for a spare.”

“Well…we could use this.” Charlotte offered, and pulled a bobby pin from usually well-kept mane, letting it fall back down to her shoulders. “I used to pick into my mother’s jewelry box and play dress up when I was a kid. She never knew that of course.” Charlotte stated with a wry smile. She set to work immediately on picking the lock as Amity waited. Impatience getting the best of her, she couldn’t help looming over Charlotte’s shoulder, anxious to see the contents of the box.

Just as she thought she couldn’t wait any longer, the lock clicked open and the lid lifted easily up with Charlotte’s magic. Inside the safe was disappointingly little. There was nothing more than a scroll and a picture of Amity and himself on her third birthday. With a huff, Amity sank to her haunches, and stared down at the items. She slipped the picture into her saddlebags to keep and decided to open up the scroll. It was another set of blueprints, this time specific to the science offices of the building. Charlotte and Amity looked over the map and quickly found the office they were sitting in.

“What is that little red dot on the paper?” Charlotte squinted and pointed out a little mark on the floorplan of the office they were sitting in. Amity looked it over carefully before speaking.

“It’s almost too intentional to have been some extra drop of ink or something. Where in this room does the dot line up with?” Amity asked as they looked around.

“There, under the desk.” Charlotte pointed out. Lighting a faint glow with their horns they peered into the darkness beneath the desk. In the far back, there was a floor stone with another mark just like the one Amity had found in her home earlier. With her magic, she carefully lifted the stone up out of the floor, revealing as she had expected: a crawlspace beneath them. They pulled up the stones and placed them as quietly as they could into the corner of the room.

When they had removed the last of the loose stones, they’d found a grate covering the opening that was wide enough for a pony to slip into. Amity gave Charlotte a confident nod before carefully lifting open the grate and proceeding into the crawlspace. She brightened her magic and looked around as her friend climbed down after her. This crawl space was much deeper than the one in her house, she could stand up fairly straight in this one.

“It would seem my father has a thing for these kind of hidden spaces.” Amity whispered to Charlotte as she joined her in lighting up the room. Ignoring a raised eyebrow from her friend, Amity began to search around for anything of interest. To her delight, right nearby there was a small lamp and a desk that was rather disheveled and covered in an assortment of interesting papers. There was a scattered stack of files all about the disappearances around town as well as ‘the sacrifices’ that were returned. “Why on earth was Dad doing research into this?” Amity stammered as they skimmed over the contents of the desk. She quickly came across a note upon the desk that stood out so conspicuously that she was surprised she hadn’t seen it sooner. It read,

“Waterspout, I’ve been marked. They know we know. You know what to do.

~Jack”

“Waterspout? Who in Tartarus is that?” Amity snorted in frustration. “And just what exactly is it that they were supposed to know?”

“Clearly it has something to do with the disappearances, and not just around our town, there’s notes on places I’ve never even heard of here. What on Earth did your father get himself into?” Charlotte sounded worried as she skimmed over more papers. “Amity, we can’t just leave these notes here. Whatever they are and whatever they mean, it’d be worse for your father, and for you, if they’re found here.” Amity turned to her friend. “If they find these notes, they’re going to come after you… I… I think there is a very good reason that your father left town.” Charlotte’s face grew increasingly concerned. “When we get out of here, I think it'd be best if we were to leave town. Immediately.”

“Agreed.” Amity nodded. “We’ll stop for some supplies at my house, but we’ll leave right after.” The mares began gathering all the notes together, and once they were neatly stacked they fit nicely into Amity’s saddlebags. The desk now empty, they returned to the entrance of the crawlspace and climbed out. “Help me put the stones back.” Amity whispered as she closed the grate and began putting stones back into place.

As they lifted the last stone into place, they flipped it over, hiding the symbol that helped them to locate the crawlspace to begin with. “We’ll burn the floor plan for this floor later as an extra measure.” Amity decided as she added it to the stack of papers in her bags. She had no more than finished the sentence when the door swung open and a light was cast into the room.

“What the hell? I knew I heard voices in here!” A voice beyond the light said, surprisingly somewhat hushed. “You two can’t be in here... Actually, how did you even GET in here?” He asked. Amity recognized the voice as the stallion who had recently stomped his way out of the security room. She stammered incoherently before Charlotte stepped in and spoke.

“We were looking for the stallion who owned this office…he’s her father.” She glanced over to Amity and back over to the security guard. “We thought that maybe there’d be some clue as to what exactly had happened… if only for consolation.” Charlotte explained honestly, although Amity was so grateful her friend left out the extra details. The guard stared thoughtfully for a moment before lowering his flashlight.

“I see…you must be Amity then. Your dad talked about you all the time.” The guard looked sadly over to her and continued. “I’d known your father since I started working here a few years ago. He was a good stallion, one of the only others here that seemed to have his head on right. You have my condolences… my name is Grit, by the way.” He offered a hoofshake to the two mares, who cautiously returned the gesture. “Now, I know what you must be thinking, and I can only imagine what you must be feeling what with the events of the last few days, but you CAN’T be here. You’ll get yourselves into serious trouble. I’m just glad it was me and not one of those deviants who found you.”

“Y-you’re not going to turn us in, are you?” Amity asked anxiously.

“No. Because I’m a friend of your father, and because of the situation caused by his… disappearance, I won’t. I’ll escort you two out safely, but I must implore that you don’t return. It’s not just the administration and how strict they are with punishment, but if you get caught by the wrong guards here… well, let’s just say they’re not afraid to take what they want from younger mares…” Grit said sourly. Their eyes widened upon hearing this.

“Are you saying they’ve raped mares?” Charlotte whispered with alarm. Grit said nothing, but his expression told the whole truth of it. Amity and Charlotte exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

“We need to get you out of here. Quietly.” Grit said seriously, and motioned for them to follow.

At the back entrance of the facility, Grit opened the door and called to the guard on duty. After a brief exchange, the outer guard was relieved to the break room and Grit took his place. Once the other guard had gone, Amity and Charlotte came out of the utility cabinets by the door and proceeded outside.

“Okay. You’re out, and you’re safe. Now please, go home. This is my job on the line if you’re caught now.” He said with a hint of anxiety at the prospect of it. Not needing to be told twice, Charlotte readily began to trot off toward the tree-line. Amity had been thinking though.

“Wait. Grit, who’s Waterspout? Do you know him?” Amity asked. A bit taken aback, Grit turned and stared at her.

“Ol’ Spout? He used to work here, ‘til he was caught stealing valuable water purification notes. Knowing him, it was probably to sell them off, the damn druggy.” Grit said with no effort to hide his disdain. “But… the poor fool had a problem, for sure. He didn’t have another soul around to really help him either, so I suppose it was inevitable in the end. Why do you ask?” He asked suspiciously.

“Oh… well, my father mentioned him before he left the last time.” Amity lied. “Just thought he might know a few things… is there any way you could tell me where he is, and if I could get the chance to talk with him?”

“I wouldn’t really recommend it. Like I said, he’s a known addict. But if you must, I do know the stallion who is the head guard at the jail he’s being kept in. His name’s Gut Punch if you need to know. It’s the one on the outskirts of the southern part of town, just tell him I sent you and he’ll likely let you in.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “Hey, and remember kid, keep it all on the down-low. You know how this town is...”

“Thank you so much.” Amity smiled and trotted to catch up with Charlotte, who’d reached the tree-line already.

“What took so long?” she asked.

“We’ve got another detour before we leave.” Amity whispered excitedly.

At the guard station, they were met with disapproving looks from the police stallions out front. The guards clearly weren’t happy about ponies visiting at such a late hour, least of all ones who were so recently renowned to be outcast. But when questioned, Amity followed Grit’s instructions and asked to see the guard named Gut Punch. The guards reluctantly let the two mares inside to meet with the cell guard privately.

His office area was located just outside the door to the cell block, assumingly so his eyes could always be upon it. Gut Punch was a large, muscular stallion with a rather messy grey coat. His oily, unkempt green mane and tail looked sickly against it, despite him otherwise looking the picture of physical health.

“Um… w-we’re here to see-“ Amity began, only to be cut off.

“Nopony. You’re not going to get to see anypony. Least of all at this time of night.” Gut Punch scoffed without even raising his eyes from his paperwork.

“But... But Grit said-“ She tried again.

“Grit? Grit sent you here?” The mares suddenly had his attention. “To see who?”

“Waterspout.” Amity said hopefully. Gut Punch eyed her sharply before setting down his paperwork.

“The druggy? What’s your interest in that old moron?” He said as he rose to his hooves. He had appeared almost humorously big behind his small desk when sitting, but when he stood at his full height, he was frightfully large.

“Irrelevant.” Charlotte interrupted before Amity could speak. “Our business with him is our own. All you need to know is that it is absolutely vital that we speak with him. Grit said that you could allow us the audience with him that we need. Was he wrong?” Gut Punch stood silently, glaring down intensely at the little unicorn before letting out a sigh and nodding reluctantly.

“If you weren’t friends of Grit’s, I’d have you both thrown out of here so fast your heads would spin.” Gut Punch growled menacingly. “But I trust him. He was my finest trainee at the academy, and if he trusts you, then so do I...for now.” Gut Punch grabbed his keys and made his way toward the door to the cell block. “He’s at the very end. Do what you need to do, but make it quick… damn mares.” He snapped. “Oh, and I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.” Gut Punch glared.

Relief washed over the two mares and they proceeded through the door which was forcefully slammed behind them. They winced and shared an uncomfortable glance, but pressed onward to the end of the cell block. A number of other ponies were locked up in the cells, a couple of stallions whistled at them, making sexual gestures as they went by. A mare reached over to them, crying out a desperate need for some sort of drug. At the end of the hall, there was a cell containing only one rather frail looking stallion within it. He was blue with a faded yellow mane that appeared to be thinning terribly. He was hunched rather purposefully in the corner.

“Are you Waterspout?” Amity asked. The stallion raised his head, startled by their presence.

“D’pends. Who wants ta know?” He snorted indignantly.

“My name is Amity, and I have some questions for you.” She was already convinced that he wouldn’t give them any answers.

“Ah ain’t tellin’ ya nuttin’!” He exclaimed, stamping a hoof. “Ah ain’t got yer damned papers, an’ even if Ah did, Ah wouldn’t give ‘em to da likes uh you!”

“Um…we’re not here to ask you for papers…” Commented Charlotte leerily. His ears perked up a bit at that, but he still refused to turn and face them.

“Mr. Waterspout, please, you may be the only clue for me to be able to find my father’s whereabouts. Can you at least tell us what these are supposed to be about?” Amity pleaded and levitated the stack of notes she’d collected from her father’s office and levitated them over to where Waterspout was sitting. With a gasp, the old Earthen pony ripped the papers from the air and looked them over. He finally turned toward them with an intrigued smile upon his face.

“So…you mush be Jack’sh daughter.” He mused. “Dish changes fings. Dish changes fings indeed.” He laughed wheezily and flashed a fairly toothless grin. He motioned for them to lean in closer to the bars. “Derr ain’t much Ah can tell ya here, it ain’t shafe. And with recent accusins’, tain’t likely dat Ah’ll be gettin’ out of dis blasted cell anytime soon. And even when Ah do, it’s likely mah death is da cause. Take dese notes back, keep ‘em safe, and out of da hooves of da officials. Find mah daughter, she’s to take mah place once Ah’m gone anyways. She can guide ya on from here.” He whispered urgently in his strange, gummy accent.

“Go to da old Heart’swell Bakery what got ‘bandoned after da sacr'fice. Derr is an open speakeasy ‘round da back at night. In da very back of da speakeasy is ‘nother door, most people jus’ ‘sume it’s where dey make da booze. Knock three times an’ give ‘em dis password: da gears’re turnin’… now go on, git outta here!” Waterspout motioned for them go leave immediately. “An’ don’t go comin’ back dis way no more! It’s dangrous! Derr’s eyes an’ ears errywhere.” He whispered to them as they took the notes back.

Shoving the papers back into her saddle bags, Amity motioned for Charlotte to follow quickly, and they hastily trotted past the creeps in the surrounding cells. Hurrying through the door, they closed it behind them and said a quick thank you to Gut Punch, who grunted an unpleasant acknowledgement and waved his hoof to usher them out. Once outside the earshot of anypony at the station, Charlotte pointed out it’d be best to not linger around and that they should either go back to Amity’s house or see if the speakeasy is still open.

“We may as well check the speakeasy… since it’s closer than home.” Amity suggested, which according to the look she received from Charlotte, clearly wasn’t the answer that she had been hoping for. “I’m sorry… I guess we could go back home for tonight if you’d prefer.” She relented. She hadn’t realized just how tired that she herself had become until that moment.

“We’ve been awake for approximately 20 hours now, but it’s true that the speakeasy is right along the way to your house…” Sighed Charlotte. Their ears perked up suddenly to a noise and the mares turned towards the edge of the nearby forest. It started low at first, sounding distant and mournful with a single call. “The howls…” Charlotte muttered, her face going pale. As the call went on it grew louder and more voices joined in. It quickly began to take on the demeanor of something screaming with a ravenous hunger. “We’ll DEFINITELY be going to the speakeasy!” Charlotte screamed and ran towards town.

“Agreed!” Amity shouted, and took off behind her friend. The nightly screeches from the forest worked as a good motivator to keep them moving. They quickly enough found themselves rounding the corner to the market, the old bakery building well within sight. The howling from the forest still resounded loudly through the empty streets, calling out to them hungrily and sorrowfully. The clacking of their hooves on the street was drowned out by the ghastly howls, and Amity wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand to be out in the open while they continued to call.

Everypony for generations had heard the screams of the forest, and knew them well, but when in the safety of one’s home the harshness of the tones were drowned out, and the depth of fear they incited felt dulled by familiar comforts. Beside her, Charlotte was gasping frantically as she ran. Amity imagined that since she’d previously been a mare of a ‘higher standard’, Charlotte had likely never been outside of her home after 8:00 at the latest. Frankly, much like herself and anypony else. Once the light of the fauna died down, most ponies hoped they’d be deeply asleep before the nightly tirade from the forest began.

Around the back of the old bakery was what appeared to be an old, rundown shed. They were tempted to pass it up and look elsewhere but for the faint sound of voices coming from it. They approached it with trepidation, but the loud torture of the howls won out in the end. The two mares burst quickly through the door to the shed, making sure to shut it tightly behind them. A small, fairly well lit stairway led down to what appeared to be a root cellar that had been expanded out to suit a medium sized bar and an assortment of collected tables. Happy to leave the muffled cries behind them, Amity and Charlotte entered to find a small crowd of ponies. Many were completely drunk, some gambled, while others seemed to be better enjoying the atmosphere.

Charlotte melted right into the jollier mood, and blended well into the happy crowd. Amity felt much more awkward with the situation. Nopony thought it was weird that two unfamiliar mares walked into what she was assuming their regular bar. Then again, if what Waterspout had told her was true, uncommon folk must walk into the bar quite regularly. Amity made her way through the crowd of ponies to the back of the pub, having to practically drag Charlotte away from the crowd and beers.

There in the back, just as Waterspout had said, was a heavy wooden door like that to a cellar. Raising her hoof, she knocked heavily three times and waited. After a few aching moments, the door opened up just enough to see a shadowy stallion peeking through.

“Like a well-oiled machine…” his voice hissed.

“Uh, the gears are turning?” Amity offered, remembering the phrase she’d been given. The stallion gave a satisfied grunt before shutting the door. The sound of locks and multiple door chains being undone could just be heard over the laughter and noise of the pub. The door soon opened again, this time with the stallion motioning for them to enter. Once the door was shut behind them, the stallion lit up the area with magic from his horn. They were in a short hallway above another small spiraling staircase.

“Follow me.” The stallion smiled a surprisingly welcoming smile, and began descending down the stairs. With a bit of relief showing on their faces, Amity and Charlotte followed. At the base of the small stairway, they found themselves in a larger mess hall where the delicious smell of food lingered and many ponies were eating and talking. “Welcome to The Brotherhood!” The stallion who led them whinnied with excitement.

Author's Note

This is the fourth and final part of the original Chapter 1 of this story, it was divided to make the chapters easier to read.