Checkmate

Chapters

Part 1: Good Day, Last Day
Part 2: Tracking
Part 3: Hope Beyond Hope
Part 4: Riddle Me This—Rarity
Part 5: Riddle Me This—Applejack
Part 6: Riddle Me This—Rainbow
Part 7: Riddle Me This—Fluttershy and Pinkie
Part 8: Riddle Me This—Twilight and Flash
Part 9: The Black King
Part 10: Home
Chapter notes

Part 1: Good Day, Last Day

The snow had been cleared away and the cold, crisp air had been replaced with a warm breeze that carried the song of birds to the ears of ponies. It was the first day of spring, and Ponyville had erupted into colorful splendor. The pegasi had made it a clear day that called everypony outside to enjoy the sun on their face.

Applejack had woken up just as Celestia was raising the sun over the horizon. After taking in a breakfast of pancakes dripping with maple syrup, she had stepped outside to begin the day with milking the cows. As she stepped out of the house and headed out to the barn, she paused for a moment to admire the golden hues that the sunlight cast across the horizon.

"It's gonna be a good day," she said to herself with a smile.

A rainbow streaked across the sky, cutting sharp corners to pierce through seven clouds. For a moment, the clouds seemed unaffected, but then they burst one by one into little wisps that soon disappeared.

Rainbow Dash grinned in accomplishment, witnessing the aftermath of her new trick. "Today is gonna be an awesome day!"

Lyra sat on the park bench in her own unique way, straight backed with her hind legs dangling off, holding her lyre in her hooves. Eyes closed, she plucked the strings with her magic, singing along as she did so:

"From the Horseshoe Bay to the Filly's Quay,
From the Badlands to the Crystal Hills,
No mare I've seen like the sweet cailín
That I met in Ponyville!"

Beside her, Bon Bon rolled her eyes in embarrassment, but nonetheless smiled and laid her head on her wife's lap. "Today's going to be a good day."

Spike added another rose to the bouquet and smiled at his handiwork. He had finished all his chores for the morning and Twilight had allowed him to go out, where he had promptly set out to find some flowers and gems for Rarity.

"It's going to be a good day," he said, heading towards the Carousel Boutique. He hadn't taken more than a few steps than he saw Pinkie Pie bouncing towards him; literally, as she had bedsprings attached to her hooves and was using them to propel herself along the ground, shouting "Boing!" with every bounce.

"Hi, Spike!" Pinkie said, bouncing up and down in front of him. "Guess what day it is! Guess, guess, guess!"

"Uh...first day of spring?" Spike asked.

"You're right!" Pinkie said. "That's why I have these springs; to make the first day of spring extra springy!" Pinkie suddenly stopped, her eyes widening. "Itchy nose...eyebrow twitch...hoof tap..." Spike braced himself for whatever unpleasant thing was about to happen, but then a wide smile spread across Pinkie's face.

"That means that today is gonna be a good day!" she grinned. "Well, have fun, Spike! I gotta bounce!" And she set off, still shouting "Boing!" with every spring. Laughing to himself, Spike continued on his way.

"Come along, little ones," Fluttershy said, guiding a mother duck and her little ducklings down the path in the park. The little birds chirped cutely as they followed in line, blinking in the sun. "You're going to love this pond," Fluttershy assured them. "It's nice and warm and there'll be plenty of room for you to swim around in." Looking up to make sure the path was clear, Fluttershy took in a deep, slow breath of the fresh air. "Today is going to be a good day."

In the library of the Rainbow Castle, Twilight had just finished sorting out the new books she had taken from the Castle of the Two Sisters and placing them on the shelves, which were still not yet fully stocked. She had just selected a spellbook to read and had settled down on a couch to read.

"Your Highness?" a voice called from the door. "Is there anything you need?"

Twilight looked up and saw Flash standing at the door, full armor shining in the sunlight streaming in through the window. "No, thank you, Flash," she said.

"All right," Flash said, but hesitated in the door. Realizing that Twilight was still watching him out of the corner of her eye, he tried to stir himself to action, but the connection between his brain and his legs appeared to have been momentarily severed.

Come on, just ask her, you chicken! he scolded himself. He swallowed, took a breath and said, "May I...join you?"

Twilight looked up in confusion, then smiled. "Of course," she said. Visibly relaxing, Flash entered the library and took off his helmet, laying it gently on one of the crystal tables. Selecting an adventure novel from the fiction shelves, he sat down on the chair opposite Twilight.

Twilight turned a page and sighed happily. "Today is going to be a good day," she said.

But not everypony in Ponyville was going to have a good day. Deep Digger wasn't going to have a good day.

In fact, today was Deep Digger's last day alive.

He didn't know that yet. But as he reentered his home later that morning from going out to get some groceries, the familiar chill that went up and down his spine was stronger than it had ever been since his roommate had shown up months ago. He quickly shook it off, however. He somehow sensed that whatever he was planning, it was coming to a head, and then it would all be over.

He entered his living room and set the bags down on the coffee table to sort them out. He was a tall earth pony with well-built rounded shoulders from years of digging. He had mud brown fur, and his pale blonde hair was starting to gray around the edges. The dull blue eyes were beginning to wrinkle from the years. He walked with a limp on his left front leg. On his flank was the image of a shovel. He caught the reflection of his cutie mark in the mirror and scowled.

He'd hated the mark ever since he got it. Digging graves and the occasional ditch was no way to make a living. He had known this from the day he got it, and had quickly turned to petty crime to supplement in his income. The result was, years later, when he had fallen so deep into the rabbit hole that was the Equestrian underworld that he had forgotten that there was a top, he had met him.

It was the mark's fault that he had a monster residing in his basement.

"Digger. Come here." The voice that traveled up the stairs was spoken with a harsh intonation, carrying no emotion. Deep Digger froze for a moment, but he didn't dare disobey. Forcing himself to remain calm, he slowly descended the stairs into the basement.

The other pony was sitting in the center of the darkened room, perfectly still, as if in meditation. All around him, photographs and papers were scattered on the floor and pinned up on the walls: the work of the past several months. Digger didn't know what it was for, and he didn't want to know.

"What did you need, sir?" he asked.

"Did you make the address label?" the other pony asked, not looking at him.

"Yes, sir," Deep Digger said, handing him the hoofdrawn address label. The other pony took it and looked at it for a long moment before nodding and setting it down beside him.

Digger swallowed nervously and spoke. "Sir, why can't we just kill him?"

The other pony slowly turned to look at him. When their eyes met, Deep Digger felt another chill go down his spine. His roommate's eyes were coal black, and completely devoid of any sign of life. It was like gazing into an abyss, only it gazed back unblinkingly, judging you the whole time.

"Because it would be too easy," he said. "I know how much you hate him, mein freund. But he is merely a pawn; all of this is part of my plan. He will die when I say he must die; not before, not after. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Deep said, struggling to contain his feeling of vertigo as he ordered himself not to break eye contact.

"Excellent," the other pony said. And that's when Deep Digger felt something cold and sharp enter his neck. His entire body flared with pain, then went numb; his eyes widened and he tried to scream, but couldn't breathe. It took about five seconds for him to die: the whole time, the abyss stared coldly back at him.

The other pony removed the knife and allowed the body of his associate to slump to the floor. Ignoring it, he turned back to the photographs on the wall. Slowly, a smile crept across his face.

Today was going to be a very good day.

Author's Note

Here we go, the reboot of the story, tapped out in one day. I have to say, I am more pleased with this than with the last version, but let me know what you think.

Side note: this is the first time I have had a character in the story die "on-screen," but I fear it will not be the last.

Part 2: Tracking

He was covered in sweat, his legs were sore, and his heart hammered against his chest as it heavily rose and fell with breath.

Today had been a good day. Phillip Finder was trotting back towards his home from the park, where he had just completed his workout. He'd managed to shave twelve seconds off his time for five laps around the lake. That, combined with two solid hours of strength training, martial arts practice, and parkour training, accounted for a good time in his book. And even better, this morning, he had gotten a tidy sum playing his sax in the park, and there was The Count of Mare Cristo and a shot of hard cider waiting for him back at home.

Tugging his trilby down over his eyes to shade them from the lowering sun, he smiled to himself. Nothing could ruin this day.

Not even a gray pegasus tumbling out of the sky and knocking him down.

"Hi, Phil!" Ditzy Do said, giving him an upside-down grin, her mailmare's cap now lying on the ground next to her head.

"G'day," Phillip said calmly as the two got back to their hooves.

"I've got a package for you," Ditzy said, digging around in her saddlebag. She pulled out a small box wrapped in brown paper and gave it to him. It had a label on it that read "Philip Finder, 221 B Bolevard, Ponyville." There was no return address. Taking it, Phillip felt something slightly heavy shifting around inside the box.

"Thanks, mate," Phillip said.

"Have a good day!" Ditzy said, turning to fly away with a smile and a wave. No sooner had she said that than she flew into a tree. "I'm okay!" she said, waving off her accident with a smile.

"Just be careful," Phillip called after her.

"Don't worry!" Ditzy said, flying off to continue her rounds. Phillip watched her go, head tilted in pondering.

It occurred to him that Ditzy was an unusually strong mare, to go out and face life with her disability, bear every accident and stand strong in the face of seemingly endless insults; even stronger than many, for she did it all with a genuine smile and an open heart. She was unusually brave as well, he reflected, recalling their adventure in the old Rainbow Factory.

In fact, once he thought about it, all of his friends were strong indeed. Time Turner, a loving husband and father and respected pillar of the community in spite of his shyness and obsessive-compulsive disorder; Lyra and Bon Bon, who lived happily and provided all they could for their daughter in spite of the disease of homophobia that still infected parts of Equestrian society; Dr. Rain Breeze, who had raised her daughter in her husband's absence; Zipline, who joined the Royal Guard in spite of his crippling vertigo; Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Dinky Do and Tootsie Flute, who refused to give up in spite of the constant bullying they received for being blank flanks; and Flash Sentry, who had refused to be corrupted by the tide of filth that plagued the southern streets of Fillydelphia.

And then there were the six ponies and one dragon who now worked out of the crystalline castle just out of town. They had faced obstacles and hurdles that few would have been able to face—he shivered involuntarily as he recalled Tirek's march of terror—and come out with their friendship not just intact, but stronger than ever. And at heart, they remained the same open-hearted ponies.

He wished he had that strength.

Bringing himself out of his reverie, he turned and headed off. Time to get to the house and see what this package was about.

Shutting the door to his cottage behind him, Phillip trotted into the living room and placed his package down on the coffee table to examine it. The address was written in pencil by somepony using a mouth hold, so not a unicorn. He now noticed that his name had only one L, and Boulevard was spelled incorrectly, so the sender was uneducated. The paper that wrapped the package was garden variety: nothing of interest that he could see from an initial glance over. Carefully cutting it open with his pocketknife, he slowly opened the box.

"Crikey," he murmured in surprise and confusion. Inside the box was a pair of horseshoes: a pair of front horseshoes. Gently, he took the shoes out and examined them.

Now why would somepony send me their horseshoes? he thought. Taking the box and its contents down to his basement laboratory, he set them down on his workbench to examine them, peering through an illuminated table top magnifier. The horseshoes were old and faded, dirt crusted in every crevice and layering the metal.

Barely visible among the faded markings was a group of letters: "IF & Co." That'll be Iron Fittings, the local blacksmith, Phillip thought. A local, then. Examining the pattern of the fading, he noticed something odd. The fading on the left horseshoe is irregular. The pony probably walks with a limp.

Scraping off some of the dirt, he placed it under a microscope for a closer examination. The sample, he determined, was actually a mixture of unrefined clay, grass, and some small pieces of marble, along with some old pieces of rope.

Only one place somepony could have gotten all that on their shoes. Leaving the package on the desk, Phillip exited the cottage and headed for the Ponyville Cemetery.

From a distance, a pair of eyes watched him through binoculars. The watcher smirked. He had figured it out, just as he'd anticipated.

Time to get to work.

Rainbow was soaring over a packed crowd with the Wonderbolts, painting arcing rainbows across the sky as she expertly soared hundreds of feet above the ground, a huge grin in the air. As she made a sharp turn in midair, her elation suddenly turned into surprise when she saw Rarity floating in front of her, staring sternly at her. "Rainbow Dash," she said.

"Rarity?" a bewildered Rainbow Dash said, halting before her friend.

"Rainbow Dash," Rarity repeated, more forcefully.

"What is it?" Rainbow asked, her confusion growing by the moment.

"Rainbow Dash!"

Rainbow jolted awake at the sound of her friend's voice and peered over the edge of the cloud that she'd been napping upon to see Rarity standing on the ground beneath her, staring up at her. "What the hay, Rarity? I was in the middle of a good nap!"

"I was just reminding you that we have a meeting at the castle in a few minutes," Rarity said. "And it would be very rude of you to show up late."

Rainbow groaned. "I don't see why Twilight has to have these talks."

"Rainbow, a lot of things have changed recently," Rarity said. "Twilight is doing her best to adjust to her new roles...as we all are."

Rainbow's expression softened as her irritation at being inconvenienced dissipated. Rarity was right: there was still a lot they all needed to figure out. "All right, I'm coming."

"Wonderful," Rarity said, brightening as the two friends headed towards the Castle.

A few inquiries at the Cemetery and Phillip was headed to the western side of town in search of a name that was vaguely familiar to him. Deep Digger. In Phillip's first month in Ponyville, he had sent Deep's brother, Gold Digger, to a long prison stretch for armed robbery. The brothers had been close, and Deep had not taken his brother's imprisonment well: all this time later, Phillip still recalled the look of vindictive hatred the limping stallion had given him in the courtroom.

So why was he now sending him his horseshoes?

He was soon to find out. He had just arrived at the gravedigger's simple cottage, backlit by the setting sun. Walking up the short pathway, overgrown with weeds, he knocked on the door. "Mr. Digger."

No answer. Frowning, Phillip knocked harder. "Mr. Digger!" Still nothing from inside the house.

Well, if he won't answer the door, I'll just find my own way in. Walking around the exterior of the house, Phillip soon found a window that was slightly open. Pushing it open enough so that he could squeeze through, Phillip soon gained entry into the cottage's dining room. There were several bags of fresh groceries left on the table. Searching the first floor of the house, Phillip found no sign of Deep Digger, and nothing else of interest.

Noticing the open door leading to the basement stairs, he decided to head downstairs. Silently trotting down the steps along the edge of the staircase, he felt for a light switch along the wall. He finally found it at the bottom of the stairs and flicked it on. A bare bulb flickered on above him.

The first thing he saw when the light came on was Deep Digger. He was lying on the floor in front of him, dead. His head and neck lay in a small pool of dark coagulated blood that had spilled from the stab wound in his neck. Carefully checking the body's temperature and rigor mortis, Phillip judged that he had probably died this morning. Probably died right after he got back from grocery shopping, he thought, recalling the grocery bags on the dining room. Just to satisfy his curiosity, Phillip checked the corpse's shoes. Sure enough, his front horseshoes were missing.

Looking up, Phillip saw a curtain in front of him, stretching from wall to wall. Approaching, he pushed the curtain aside. What he saw behind it made him freeze, eyes widening in shock.

A small cot lay in the center of the room, a chessboard and book of chess openings next to it. Surrounding it, taped up on the walls and scattered across the floor, were several photographs. All of them were of his friends, in various settings: even in their own homes, the pictures taken through windows with a telephoto lens. A cluster was devoted to Twilight; a larger group displayed Flash.

Turning to a far wall, Phillip felt his breath catch in his chest. The entire wall was pictures of him. At the park, Sugarcube Corner, walking down the streets of Ponyville, shoveling snow for Winter Wrap Up, even resting in his own house.

Who is this? he thought in horror.

Suddenly, he froze, his head snapping eastward. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. His entire body stiffened, then shivered violently: waves of cold ran through him, like being stabbed with a thousand icicles. An image burned in his mind: Twilight, Spike, Flash and the other mares in the throne room of the Rainbow Castle.

As soon as the episode passed, Phillip sprinted out of the cottage and into the street. Leaping from some crates onto the roof of another house, he leapt from roof to roof across Ponyville, heading towards the crystalline structure in the distance.

In his panic, he didn't notice the oddly low-hanging cloud above him. But the pegasus sniper hiding in the cloud saw him. Drawing his weapon, the sniper peered through the scope at his target, tracking his movement. At the opportune moment, he squeezed the trigger. The crossbow shuddered in his grasp as it released its payload.

Phillip had just landed on the next rooftop when pain shot up his side. Glancing back with a yelp, he saw to his shock a dart stuck in him. Instantly, the world tilted like the deck of a ship in a storm and his legs shook violently, struggling to hold up his weight. He tried to force himself up, to keep running, to go help his friends, but the anesthetic worked too quickly.

Phillip was unconscious before he dropped down onto the rooftop.

Meanwhile, the seven rulers of the Castle of Friendship had just gathered in the throne room for a meeting, each taking their place in their respective throne. Twilight had just unrolled a scroll containing the itinerary for the day. "All right, girls, we have a lot to cover tonight, but we'll try to make this as quick as possible. Flash, could you make sure that we are not disturbed?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Flash said, bowing slightly before turning and exiting the room to patrol the hallway.

The trouble was, there was something in the hallway that shouldn't be there: a small unmarked box, wrapped in a long black ribbon. There was a small tag on the side. Curious, Flash picked up the tag and read it.

"'What is one question you can never answer yes to?'"

Confused, and his curiosity further piqued, Flash unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box. As soon as he did so, a cloud of black, foul-smelling gas rushed out with a hiss. Coughing, Flash staggered back, shaking his head to clear his vision. A feeling of dizziness passed over him, and he suddenly found it hard to stand. Collapsing to his knees, he struggled to fight the effects of the gas.

Hearing a noise beside him, Flash looked up to see another pony walking towards him, clad in a hooded cloak and a gas mask. A pair of soulless black eyes, dark as a cave, stared at him.

"'Are you asleep?'" the pony whispered, the words like molasses in Flash's ears. Flash tried to get up, to fight, to shout a warning to the others in the next room, but all that he could manage was a feeble groan as he slowly collapsed to the ground, darkness enclosing his senses.

Taking the box in a magical grip, the intruder turned and opened the doors to the throne room, shutting them behind him. Somepony standing outside the doors at this moment would have heard a long hiss, accompanied by several coughing voices, before silence fell over all.

Author's Note

Nothing good is going to happen.

Part 3: Hope Beyond Hope

Spike slowly came to, opening his eyes to darkness. The sun had gone down: he realized that he must have been asleep for at least an hour. As his eyes slowly adjusted to night vision, he realized that he was still in the throne room, but he was alone in it: all of the others were gone!

"Twilight!" he called, getting to his feet and looking around the dark room. "Rarity! Pinkie Pie! Fluttershy! Applejack! Rainbow! Flash!"

His only response was his own voice echoing off the crystal walls. Turning, Spike saw something on the round table in the center of the room: an open box. Peering inside it, he saw a metal mechanism that looked kind of like a small fog machine. In a flash, he recalled the hooded pony, and the gas that had put them all to sleep.

Spike let out a strangled whimper and clung to the table with his claws as if trying to prevent his terror from carrying him away. That pony had taken his friends! But where? Why? What was he doing to them now? What was he going to do?

With an effort like crawling out of a deep well, Phillip forced himself awake. The first thing that came to his mind was the realization that he was still lying on the thatch roof. Opening his eyes, he was shocked to find that darkness had fallen: a glance at his watch showed that he'd been asleep for almost an hour!

Terror and panic fueled his conviction and dispelled his dizziness, and he leapt to his hooves. Pulling the dart out of his side with his teeth, he turned and ran towards the Castle in the distance. Reaching the edge of town, he dropped down from the roof of the last cottage, rolled as he hit the ground and sprinted across the open path to the castle doors, shoving them open and bursting into the main hall. "Flash!" he shouted, hurrying up the stairs. When he didn't see anypony in the hallway, his heart leaped to his throat and he burst into the throne room.

The only occupant of the room was Spike, who looked close to hysteria. "Phillip!" he shouted, hurrying over to him. "Somepony's kidnapped the others!"

Phillip's heart skipped a beat. Time seem to freeze around him: he felt like he was falling into cold darkness, completely helpless. But the look on Spike's face pulled him back to reality and grounded him. He knew that if he panicked, Spike would feed off of that terror, and that would doom them all for sure. Taking a breath, he forced his emotions into the back of his mind, allowing his rational instincts to take over.

"Tell me what happened," he said calmly, gripping Spike by the shoulders. The evenness of his tone went a way towards calming down the little dragon.

"We had just started talking when somepony opened the door. It was a pony wearing a cloak and gas mask: they were carrying a box, and some kind of gas was coming out of it. It knocked us all out. I woke up a few minutes ago, and I was all alone in the room." Frightened tears welled in Spike's eyes. "What are we going to do?"

"Spike, calm down. Send a letter to Celestia. Tell her what's happened."

Spike nodded: having a task, being able to do something about this situation, gave him an opportunity to control his fear, direct it into something. Taking out a scroll and quill that he'd intended to use to make notes, he wrote out a brief message to Celestia, telling her that Twilight and her friends had been abducted and that her help was needed. Rolling up the scroll, he took a breath and sent the message with a puff of his dragon flame. Almost as soon as the scroll had vanished, Spike felt a rumbling in his stomach that rushed up his throat. He belched loudly, causing another scroll to appear. He grabbed it and unrolled it, only to have his hopes dashed by the formulaic response on the scroll.

"Oh, no!" he shouted. "Celestia and Luna are both out and won't be back until morning!"

Phillip, who'd been examining the fog machine, did not externally react to this news, but his internal fears were multiplied by this news. Long experience had taught him that in situations like this, there were no coincidences: this had been planned. "It'll be all right. I'll do what I can."

Looking inside the box, Phillip saw something unusual. There were small wood chips inside the box. These he carefully pulled out. "Spike, does this castle have a laboratory?"

"Yes, in the basement," Spike said. "Come on!" Spike led the way down several flights of stairs into the castle's cavernous basement, which was well-stocked with a variety of scientific equipment that Twilight had managed to acquire to replace the lab in the Golden Oaks Library. Moving over to a microscope, Phillip placed the wood chips on a slide and carefully placed them beneath lens.

For the next hour, the clue was subjected to a variety of chemical tests under Phillip's expert instincts. Spike, desperate to do whatever he could, hurried back and forth as he gathered whatever supplies and equipment he needed. In between requests, he desperately fidgeted and danced, hopping from one foot to the other as he struggled to control his fear. Phillip worked quickly, but calmly, knowing that he couldn't afford to make mistakes.

"The wood is several years old," Phillip muttered, staring through the microscope lens. "Traces of corn starch...wheat...oil..." He shut his eyes and retreated into the inner recesses of his mind, drawing upon his knowledge of the town and the area. An abandoned building where one could find grains and oil...

"The abandoned water mill south of town," he said, already turning towards the stairs.

"Wait for me!" Spike shouted. Knowing that the little dragon wouldn't be persuaded from trying to help, Phillip paused just long enough for Spike to climb up on his back and secure a good grip before bolting back up the stairs. Racing out the castle, he hurried across the grass, making a beeline for the old water mill that lay at the river on the south of town.

His mind raced just as fast as his hooves. The shoes...the photographs...the wood chips...somepony's testing me. His heart rate jumped, and a surge of adrenaline raced through his body, giving him the energy to boost his speed. This is my fault. They're all in danger because of me.

Please, God, I'm begging You just this once: don't let me be too late!

It took them almost a half hour to reach the water mill. It was a long, two story building on the edge of the river, dry rot beginning to set into the off-white walls. The large mill still squeaked intermittently as the slow-moving river pushed it, even though it was no longer connected to the old, rusty machinery inside. A pair of doors stood before Spike and Phillip, the rusty chain that once held them together lying on the ground next to a sign that was so old and faded that the words "DO NOT ENTER" were barely discernible.

Phillip pushed the door open, taking out his flashlight and attaching it to his shoulder, flicking the light on. The first thing he saw was a bomb, consisting of several fat sticks of dynamite, entangled with wires and control boxes. A small green light blinked at them like an eye. Turning his light upward, Phillip saw words painted on the wall behind it.

"Follow the rules or they all die. Rule 1: you do this alone."

Phil looked back at Spike, who was staring at the words wide-eyed. "Well, you can see how this is, mate." He sat down, allowing Spike to slide off his back and onto the ground.

"But—" Spike protested.

"Spike, if you go in there with me, they all die," Phillip said flatly. "I know you're scared. I know you want to help. But you have to wait here." Spike looked like he was going to argue more, but he fell silent and nodded.

"If I haven't gotten everypony out by sunrise, go get help," Phillip said, turning back to the doors.

"You will get them out, right?" Spike said softly.

Phillip hesitated to answer. He wanted to assure Spike, promise him that it'd be okay. But he knew better than to make promises. "I'll do what I can," he said softly. Turning back to the doors to avoid Spike's baleful gaze, he stepped forward into the room.

For a moment, he hesitated. He felt like he was entering the hallway of his old home in Sydneigh on that night all those years ago...the night when all sense left his life. Only this time, he knew what was behind that door.

And he knew that he had to go through it. Taking a long, slow breath, he entered the mill, closing the door behind him. Stepping around the bomb, his flashlight illuminated a painted arrow on the floor. He turned and walked forward.

Flash opened his eyes to complete darkness. He realized that he was lying on his back, and felt cold, rough wood beneath him. "Twilight!" he shouted, sitting up, only to bump his head against something solid inches above his head. Feeling around with his hooves, he realized that he was inside a small wooden box, a couple feet longer than he was and about a half foot taller than him. Panic seized his mind upon this realization: desperate to escape, he pressed up against the top of the box, but a great weight held it firmly down.

Then, in the sharpness of sense that comes from fear, he detected a smell: wet, packed dirt.

No. No, no, no, no, no...!

"HELP!" he screamed, pounding against the wood. "SOMEPONY! HELP ME!"

But even if his voice could have carried through the coffin and the dirt that buried him, there was nopony around to hear it.

Author's Note

This isn't looking good, is it?

Be forewearned: the next few chapters are going to be kind of gimmicky. Deathtraps and riddles/puzzles will be involved. But bear with me, and tell me what you think.

I will tell you this: it's gonna get worse before it gets better.

Part 4: Riddle Me This—Rarity

The painted arrow pointed Phillip down a long, dark hallway. He was resisting the urge to sprint down it: he knew that whatever was coming, he needed to save his energy for it. Coming to a corner, he turned and found himself facing a door. Opening it, he proceeded into a dark open area. His flashlight illuminated four objects on the floor before him. There was a small wooden box right in front of his hooves. Around it were three chests, all secured with a lock and chain. The first chest had a wooden sign on it that said "Gold," the second "Silver," and the third said "Gold or Silver."

Phillip had just enough time to wonder what all this was about before he heard a voice: "HELP!"

Looking up, Phillip saw Rarity hanging from the ceiling by a rope that secured her forelegs together. A magic suppression ring was attached to her horn. She struggled and kicked as she dangled in midair.

Almost as soon as Phillip saw her, Rarity was illuminated by a spotlight from the ceiling that snapped on. Other spotlights snapped on simultaneously, revealing several crossbows mounted in the walls and aimed at Rarity, all of them fully drawn and loaded with bolts, the heads of which shone dangerously in the light. With a click, a timer mounted high on the wall turned on, displaying 2:00 in red letters. Time began to mercilessly click down, second by second.

"Get me down!" Rarity cried, her panic multiplied at the sight of the crossbows.

"Hang tight," Phillip said calmly, bending down to examine the small wooden box. "I'm going to get you down." He felt strangely calm despite the situation. He had set aside his emotions and was in control. There was another pony in danger; he had a way to save them. Emotion could not be allowed to have any sway at the moment.

Opening the box, he found what looked like a set of wooden puzzle pieces and a note. He read the note quickly.

"One each of the three locked chests contains gold, silver, or bronze. The labels are all incorrect. Form the correct labels from the puzzle pieces here and place them on the chests."

Shaking the puzzle pieces out of the box onto the floor, Phillip quickly organized them and put the pieces together. It took longer than he expected, but he quickly managed to form four wooden signs. But what was on them caused him to pause, momentarily bewildered. They said, "Rafq," "Baaf," "Gzfcun," and "Knalhu."

Must be a code, Phillip thought. Looks like a basic substitution cipher. Three of these signs must say Gold, Silver and Bronze; one must be a dummy to slow me down. The six letter ones must be silver and bronze. Both words have an "e" in them. Let's see...He glanced up at the timer. He had forty-seven seconds left.

"Hurry!" Rarity shouted. Tuning out her frightened whimpers and ignoring the timer, Phillip turned back to the labels.

Great! They both have a "u" in them: that must be the "e." "Gzfcun" must be Silver, and "Knalhu" must be Bronze. Now for the four-letter one...oh, that's easy. "Gold" doesn't have any repeated letters: "Rafq" must be Gold." Discarding the dummy sign, he turned his attention to the three chests. Thirty-five seconds left. Rarity's panic was increasing, her cries becoming more frantic as she watched her final seconds running out.

If all the signs are incorrect...then the third chest must contain bronze. That means chest number one must have silver, and the second has gold. Piece of piss. Picking up the labels one by one in his mouth, he quickly removed the label from each chest and replaced it with one of his own. "Gzfcun" replaced "Silver." "Rafq" replaced "Gold." And "Knalhu" replaced "Gold or Silver."

As soon as the last label was in place, all three chests glowed with a faint golden energy. Phillip looked up at the timer: 00:10, 00:09, 00:08...for a moment, panic stabbed through his mind. Had he made a mistake? Was he too slow? Seeing that time was running out, Rarity gave a long scream and closed her eyes tight, waiting for the cold touch of the arrowheads as they pierced her skin...

Suddenly, the golden light vanished and the timer stopped at 00:07. Phillip breathed out a sigh of relief. With a whir of machinery, a crane mechanism lowered Rarity safely to the ground, where she stopped screaming and opened her eyes a second later once she realized that she was safe.

Calmly, Phillip used his pocketknife to cut the rope binding her hooves and removed the magic suppression ring from her horn. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," Rarity said, breathing shakily as she recovered from her ordeal. She let out a little whimper as she examined her forelegs, which had been rubbed raw from the ropes cutting into them. "My coat is all chafed," she said. "Did that uncivilized brute have to tie the rope so tightly?"

"I'll be sure to ask him about it when I catch him," Phillip said, half-smiling.

Rarity examined the three boxes on the floor before them. "A...puzzle? Whatever could be the purpose of this? It's rather cliche."

Phillip nodded. "I think somepony's trying to test me, slow me down."

The two ponies heard a click and turned to see that a light had turned on, revealing the door that Phillip had entered the room through.

"You need to go," Phillip told Rarity. "Spike is waiting outside. You'll be safe. I'll find the others."

Rarity looked like she was going to protest, but nodded after a moment and quickly left the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, there was another click. A light turned on at the opposite end of the room, revealing another door. Without hesitating, Phillip walked through the door and continued deeper into the maze.

So it's a game you want? he thought, internally fuming at the thought of another pony using his friends, innocent ponies, as pawns against him. I can play games.

Flash had gone mad. He screamed and yelled at the top of his lungs, flailing and kicking at the darkness like a wild animal. His hooves repeatedly struck the walls of his coffin, but the wood, held down by the packed dirt, refused to yield.

Eventually, the adrenaline of panic wore off and he collapsed, panting and whimpering. Tears ran from his eyes.

What am I going to do?

Author's Note

Well, here it is.

I know, I know, it's kind of a gimmicky idea, but it's the one I had. What do you think? And would you have been able to solve the riddle?

Part 5: Riddle Me This—Applejack

A cobweb clung to Rarity's face and she shuddered as she shook it off. "I shan't miss this dirty old place," she said to herself, using the light of her horn to guide herself out of the mill. Taking the last turn, she at last found herself facing the exit. Pushing the doors open with her magic, she saw Spike, who had been pacing outside the mill. He looked up when she opened the door. "Rarity!" he cried in relief, rushing to hug her.

She returned the embrace, equally as relieved to see that he was all right. "Oh, Spikey-Wikey, it was simply awful! I was nearly eviscerated!"

"Well, you're safe now," Spike said.

"But the others!" Rarity cried, worry cutting through her relief.

"Phillip will get them out," Spike said. The "I hope" at the end of his sentence didn't have to be spoken: it hung in the air like a foul odor. Spike and Rarity both turned and looked back at the doors behind them. The wood seemed to stare pitilessly back at them, offering no hope.

More painted arrows guided Phillip down another set of winding hallways. He felt like he was being given a guided tour of Hell, every step taking him to new and worse torments, baited by the promise of being able to save his friends.

If he was smart enough. If he was fast enough. If he...

He shook those thoughts out of his head. "If" was no good. "Will" was much more important. And right now, he would keep walking and see where this took him.

Turning a corner, he found himself in a long, wide room that probably once held machinery. A long table was set on either side of him. He heard movement in the darkness.

"Is somepony there?" said a southern-accented voice, tinged with fear and anger. "Get me outta here!"

"Applejack, it's me," he said, stepping forward and shining his light ahead of him. He saw Applejack, who had metal clamps around her body, which were holding her down to the metal floor of some kind of cage-like mechanism set up on the table to his left. Thick metal bars set in a square shape around her stretched towards the ceiling.

Applejack managed to lift her head to look towards him. "Well don't just stand there! Get me out!"

No sooner had she said it than a pair of spotlights snapped on, illuminating the mechanism that Applejack was caught in. On the table in front of it was a balance scale and a set of gold coins, arranged in three stacks of five. Phillip also saw that the "cage" had a slot attached to it, like one would use to insert coins into a jukebox. Above them, a timer clicked on: 02:00.

Then they both heard a heavy whoosh. Looking up, Phillip and Applejack saw that the cage supported a mechanism that carried a pendulum-like blade attached to a metal arm that slowly swung back and forth, perpendicular to Applejack's body and aimed over her neck. It began to gradually lower itself closer to its prey. Applejack's eyes widened in fear and she began to struggle against her bonds with a renewed, desperate energy. Phillip attempted to grab the clamps to try to force them open, but only got a painful electrical shock. He leapt back with a cry of pain, cursing his stupidity.

Seeing another sign on the table as he tried to rub life back into his numb forelegs, Phillip turned his attention to it and read the instructions on it. "One of these coins is fake, made of iron pyrite. Use it to free your friend. The balance scale can only be used three times."

Tuning out the heavy whooshing of the blade as it sliced through the air, Phillip considered the problem. Obviously, I have to use the balance scale to find the fake coin. Iron pyrite is less dense than gold, so it'll be lighter than the others. But I can only use the scale three times, and there are 15 coins. I have to eliminate all of the real coins to find the fake one...

He visualized a way to use the scale to determine which were real and which were fake, plotting out each move and its result in his mind. Time relentlessly counted down as he thought, and the blade came closer and closer to Applejack, who was panting as terror gripped her.

Finally, in a flash, Phillip knew what he had to do. Removing one coin from the stack, he placed seven coins on each of the two pans of the scale. The scales wobbled back and forth, as if deliberately wasting time, then the left pan tipped down beneath the heavier weight. The fake coin must be in this group, Phillip realized, taking the seven coins on the right pan and discarding the other eight. He repeated the process, removing one coin from the group and placing three coins on each of the two pans.

"Hurry!" Applejack shouted. Glancing up, Phillip saw that he had 35 seconds left. The blade had traveled almost halfway down its path. Was it his imagination, or was it swinging faster? And was the noise of the blade getting louder and heavier, echoing within his brain?

The scale slowly tipped towards the right. Discarding the four real coins, Phillip now took the three coins. One of these has to be the fake. Placing one aside, he now put one coin on each of the pans. The scale began to slowly wobble back and forth. The timer now indicated that he had 20 seconds remaining. Phillip became aware that he was sweating and his heart was hammering in his chest like a drum. Applejack had gone very still and was panting audibly, watching the progress of the blade as it inched closer and closer to her neck: it was now within inches of her skin. The sharp edge glimmered menacingly in the spotlight, promising death.

As if it couldn't make up its mind, the scale slowly tilted back and forth, then almost imperceptibly, tilted to the left. Snatching the coin in the right pan, Phillip stuck it into the coin slot and shoved the slide forward. With a series of clicks, the coin fell into the mechanism. The blade was now so close that Applejack could feel it slightly touching her skin, as if stroking her teasingly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking of her brother, sister and granny back on the farm and how they would take the news that they had lost another member of the family...

Then the whooshing stopped. Slowly, the blade retracted up towards the ceiling, the timer having stopped at eight seconds. The clamps holding her down released.

"Are you okay?" Phillip asked, helping Applejack up off the table.

"Yeah. Thanks, partner," Applejack said, standing up and putting her hat, which had fallen off, back on. Elation at being alive rushed through her body, and she reared back up onto her hind legs and kicked up into the air. "Now come on! We gotta find the rest of our friends!"

"Applejack, wait," Phillip said. "You need to head outside and wait."

"Ain't happening, partner," Applejack said sternly.

"Listen to me," Phillip said in a firm but calm tone. "This place is rigged with bombs. I have to do this alone: if you try to help me, we all die."

Applejack frowned, but slowly nodded after a moment. She turned and headed towards the door. "Just be careful, all right?" she said over her shoulder.

"I will," Phillip said. "Now get yourself to safety." Applejack opened the door and shut it behind her. As soon as the door closed, another light turned on, revealing the next door at the end of the room. Phillip proceeded forward through it.

Author's Note

Just to allay any fears--this is not just some Riddler wannabe. There are reasons for this. Be patient with me, that's all I ask.

Part 6: Riddle Me This—Rainbow

"Applejack!" Spike cheered, greeting the farmpony with a relieved hug as she exited the mill.

"Sure am glad to see that you two are all right," Applejack said, returning the embrace and putting a foreleg around Rarity.

"As we are to see you," Rarity replied. But her smile quickly disappeared when she looked back at the mill. "Now we just have to wait for the others."

The three friends stood outside, staring at the foreboding dark doors, shivering in the cold wind. "Well, there's no sense in us freezing," Applejack said. "Let's see if we can find some firewood."

Rarity and Spike both gladly accepted the temporary distraction, searching the area for any wood that Spike could use to build a fire.

Phillip was getting colder as well. The air had become heavier with moisture and the walls and floors were becoming slick. Must be going below water level, he thought.

He found himself in a large basement. Around him were rows of rusty machinery of various shapes and sizes that cast harsh-angled shadows on the walls. Water dripped from something in the darkness, providing a rhythmic sound that marked the passage of time as he proceeded forward, following the arrow painted on the floor.

"Let me outta here!" a muffled voice called from up ahead, accompanied by banging noises. Quickening his pace, Phillip moved past a large mass of gears to find Rainbow Dash, trapped in a clear box that gave her barely enough room to stand up on her hind legs in. She did not take to imprisonment well: she was repeatedly kicking and ramming the box, trying to get out. Phillip spotted that a length of piping was attached to the top of the box. Attached to it was a length of pipe that ran to a faucet before him. On the ground was a pair of buckets, one slightly larger than the other, and a scale.

"Phil!" Rainbow shouted, spotting him. "Get me outta here!"

"I will," Phillip said. "I just need to—"

He was interrupted by a rushing noise. The next instant, water began to pour into Rainbow's prison from the pipes attached to the top. Within moments, the water was up to her knees. In a blaze of panic, Rainbow doubled her efforts to free herself, frantically pounding against the unyielding walls of her tomb. Water also began to pour out of the attached faucet.

Finding the sign on the floor next to the scale, Phillip read the instructions. "One of the buckets holds five quarts, the other four. Fill one with two quarts of water and place it on the scale."

The water was rising rapidly, already approaching Rainbow's navel. She was pushing with all her might against her prison, spluttering as the water pouring from above splashed across her face.

The average pony could only hold their breath underwater for two minutes at most: Rainbow could probably hold her breath longer, but Phillip wasn't willing to bet on that. Turning his attention to the two buckets, Phillip began to imagine pouring water from one to another, trying to figure out a way to fill one with exactly two quarts.

I can't just eyeball it. It has to be as close as possible. He shut his eyes, blocking everything else out, focusing only on filling and pouring the buckets in his mind.

It took him too long to find a solution: by the time he had settled on a course, the water was creeping past Rainbow's chin. She tilted her head up to try to breathe in the last of her dwindling air supply.

"Rainbow, hang on," he said calmly. "Try to breathe steadily. I'm going to get you out." Grabbing the larger five-quart bucket in his mouth, he placed it beneath the pouring faucet. The water splashed against his muzzle and he nearly drew back with a gasp: the water was freezing cold.

Waiting for the bucket to fill was agony. The water continued to pour mercilessly into the transparent tomb. Rainbow was now straining to reach the last few inches of air pocket in the top corner of her prison. Finally, the bucket was full to the brim. Phillip picked it up and used it to fill the four-quart bucket. He emptied the smaller bucket onto the floor, then poured the remaining one quart of water into it.

The water had already completely filled Rainbow's trap. She was now pressing her hind legs as hard as she could against the wall. She's wasting her air, Phillip realized, placing the five-quart bucket under the faucet again. Come on, fill faster, damn it!

By the time the bucket was full again, Rainbow's cheeks were tinged with red from the effort of holding her breath. She instinctively opened her mouth, causing a few bubbles to escape. She quickly covered her mouth with her hooves, trembling from cold and fatigue.

Just a few more seconds! Phillip thought as loudly as he could, hoping that Rainbow could still somehow hear him. Carefully, he poured the five-quart bucket into the four-quart bucket that already had one quart in it. Three quarts of water filled the smaller bucket to the brim, leaving two quarts in the larger bucket. Hurriedly, he put the bucket on the scale, which depressed underneath the weight. Was it close enough? What happened if he was wrong? Rainbow didn't have time for him to start over again!

There was a moment of silence, then with a click, one of the sides of the box opened, spilling out its contents. Rainbow collapsed to the floor, coughing and shivering. Phillip immediately went over to her and put a foreleg around her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm f-f-fine," Rainbow said through chattering teeth. She stood up and shook herself off, flinging water everywhere and drenching Phillip. "Thanks for getting me out. Now, let's find the others!"

"No, Rainbow," Phillip said. "You need to get yourself to safety."

Rainbow glared at him. "No way! I'm not gonna stand by while my friends are in trouble!"

"Rainbow, if you try to help me, this place will blow and kill all of us," Phillip explained calmly, having expected this reaction from the Element of Loyalty. "Those are the rules, and I have to follow them." He paused. "The others are waiting outside, but I'm worried that somepony may try to go after them again. I need you to keep them safe."

Rainbow scowled, but realizing that he was right, slowly nodded. As she walked past Phil, he said without turning, "I told you once that I'm not a hero. I'm not trying to be now."

"I know," Rainbow said without looking at him. She then quickly hurried out of the room and headed outside. Seeing the light snap on over the door to the next room, Phillip continued forward.

Author's Note

Okay, I seem to be doing something right. I'm going to keep going with this, and try to get this over with as soon as possible.

Part 7: Riddle Me This—Fluttershy and Pinkie

Tap tap tap.

Tap-tap tap-tap tap-tap.

Tap tap tap.

Flash repeated the pattern over and over again, tapping out the SOS against the roof of his coffin. He knew that the chances of somepony hearing it was slim. But the hope that his message might be heard, along with the knowledge that his air supply was limited and rapidly dwindling, was the only thing that kept him from panicking again. He felt like a gnat, surrounded on all sides by flyswatters that were just waiting to crush him.

Sweat trickled from his brow, and he let out a desperate whimper. He didn't want to die, and he especially didn't want to die alone in the cold darkness of the inside of a coffin. Trying to calm himself, he thought of Twilight. Of her smile, of the sweet lavender smell that she left in the room, her cute laughter.

I'll never see her again.

Forcing the thought from his head, he continued tapping out the SOS. Tap tap tap. Tap-tap tap-tap tap-tap. Tap tap tap. Please God...please let somepony hear...

The tapping of his hooves against the floor was the only sound that Phillip heard as he proceeded, following the painted arrows. He was guided up a flight of stairs, around a corner and down a long hallway. It occurred to him that somepony had done a lot of interior decorating over a period of at least a few months. He'd have to investigate further later.

But right now, he was focused on saving his friends. If this psychopath wanted to test him, he was determined to pass with flying colors.

Up ahead, he heard what sounded like a cheery humming. It could only be one pony. Turning a corner, he was both surprised and relieved to see two of his friends in the room ahead. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were both strapped to a pair of tables. Pinkie was humming happily, while Fluttershy was trembling in her bonds. A smaller table was in front of Phillip, with three levers, labeled 1, 2, and 3. Plastic tubing ran from the levers to three boxes on the floor, labeled A, B, and C.

"Oh, hi, Phil!" Pinkie called, seeing him. "Can you let us out of here, please?"

"Yes, please hurry," Fluttershy whimpered.

"I will," Phillip said, approaching quickly. "I just need—"

Abruptly, there was a hissing noise that seemed to come from the floor. With a whoosh, flames erupted from underneath Pinkie and Fluttershy. The small, but numerous flames flickered dangerously beneath them, threatening to consume them. A timer clicked on above them, displaying 1:30.

For a moment, Phillip froze. His heart rate jumped up and he suddenly found it hard to breathe, like smoke was choking him. He had to get out of here: the fire was going to spread out of control! Go! Run!

"Phillip!" Pinkie's voice cut through his panic. "It's getting hot in here! If you don't hurry, we're gonna be baked like cupcakes!"

"I don't wanna be baked!" Fluttershy cried, trying to free herself. "Help!"

Shaking off the fear, Phillip quickly read the instructions on the table: "Each one of the switches connects to one of the gas burners in the boxes. Determine which one goes to which. The boxes can only be opened once."

Phillip read the instructions again to ensure that he understood them, then looked at the levers. He realized that part of the piping was covered, making it impossible to determine which was which by just looking. Can I turn on just two of them? No wait, then I couldn't tell which is which! He swallowed, looking up at the timer, which was ticking down mercilessly. The flames beneath the friends were steadily growing larger, as if reaching up towards them.

"Please hurry!" Fluttershy said, closing her eyes.

Phillip couldn't think. The flames seemed to glare at him, taunting him for his weakness. The light was blinding him, the heat too great...

The heat!

Grabbing Lever 1, he pulled it and waited. "Stay calm, you two. I'm going to get you out." He looked at the timer: 0:40. He waited twenty seconds, then shut off the lever and pulled Lever 2. Turning to the boxes, he opened up Box A. The flame of the gas burner within winked at him. Good. Closing the box, he turned to Box B and opened it. The burner within was off, obviously, and he placed his hoof inside. It was cold.

Just to make sure my theory's correct... Turning to Box C, he opened it and put his hoof inside. Just as he'd hoped, it was warm inside from the fire.

"Phillip!" Fluttershy screamed. He had 10 seconds left. Turning back to the table, he saw that each of the levers had a dial beneath it. He turned the one beneath Lever 1 to C, Lever 2 to A, and Lever 3 to B.

A moment later, there was a buzz, then the flames beneath Pinkie and Fluttershy went out. The timer stopped at 00:07. The straps around the two ponies released.

"Are you two okay?" Phil said, hurrying forward and helping them out.

"Yes," Fluttershy said, hugging him in relief. "Thank you, Phil."

"That was really cool!" Pinkie said, smiling. "Well, no, actually, it was kinda hot. Y'know, from the flames. Now I know what a cupcake feels like in the oven!"

"You two get yourselves outside," Phillip said, reluctantly releasing Fluttershy. "The others are out there. You'll be safe."

"Okay," Fluttershy said. "Please be careful."

"I always am, Fluttershy," Phillip replied. Let me worry about you.

"Good luck, Phil!" Pinkie said, leading Fluttershy out of the room. The door closed behind her and locked. With the click of a lamp, the next door was revealed. Phillip proceeded forward. Two more to find...

Author's Note

In the interest of time, I decided to put two ponies in this one and save myself a chapter.

Believe me, if I could think of a better way to do this, I'd do it. We've just got two more to go.

Part 8: Riddle Me This—Twilight and Flash

"Will you quit that flying around in a circle?" Applejack hissed to Rainbow. "You're making me antsy."

Rainbow, who'd been flying around in a circle over the group, groaned in frustration. "What's taking him so long?!" A cold wind blew and she shivered violently.

"Rainbow, you gotta be patient," Applejack said. "He'll get 'em out. We just gotta wait."

"Rainbow, your coat is still wet," Fluttershy said timidly, huddling near the small fire that Spike had made from the limited available resources. "Please come sit near the fire where it's warm before you catch a cold."

Persuaded by her friend's pleading tone, Rainbow settled down next to her with a frustrated grunt, still shivering. Fluttershy put a wing around her to try to help her warm up.

"If I had known there was gonna be a campfire, I would have brought marshmallows!" Pinkie declared, sitting next to the fire, free of worry as usual. Her comment, however, failed to cheer up the others. They could do nothing more than huddle near one another for warmth and comfort, battling both fear and fatigue as they waited for their friends.

Phillip blinked a few times and shook his head, stifling a yawn. He was getting tired: the roller coaster of adrenaline and fear that he'd been on all night was beginning to take effect. It felt like a fog had entered his head, dulling his senses.

He pushed through it, continuing forward. He'd been more tired before. And he couldn't allow himself to give in to the fatigue. Not until everypony was safe.

Turning a corner, he found himself facing a door. He opened it and stepped through. His flashlight illuminated another pony, staring at him. He instinctively jumped back, his hoof going up towards the pocket carrying his baton, before he realized that the other pony was just a ponyquin, staring blankly at him with a featureless gaze. There were two hallways on either side of the ponyquin.

Suddenly, a timer above the ponyquin switched on: 4:00. Instantly focusing, Phillip spotted the instructions on the wall next to the ponyquin. "You come to a crossroads on a path. One leads to a village where everypony always lies, the other to a village where everypony always tells the truth. You meet a pony who is from one of the villages, but you don't know which. Ask him one question to determine which way to the truth village."

Phillip stared at the ponyquin, thinking hard. The blank face offered no clues or encouragement. I have to think of a question that will be the same no matter if the pony is a liar or truth-teller, he thought. Which way to the truth village? No, that won't work... He began to pace in a circle, never taking his eyes off of the blank face.

Just as the timer ticked past 3:30, the answer came to him. Speaking clearly, he asked, "Which way leads to your village?"

A light snapped on, illuminating the path to his right. He ran forward through it and immediately came to an intersection. The path ahead had a white arrow painted on the floor, while the one to his right had a red arrow painted on the floor. Making a snap decision, he took the right path. A left turn, a right turn, straight ahead to another left...a dead end! A timer mounted on the wall taunted him, indicating 2:15. Damn it! He quickly turned around and went back, taking the straight path with the white arrow.

As he continued through the maze of twists and turns, he passed several more colored arrows, some of them directing him down dead end paths. White, blue, green, black, red, yellow, green...The pattern is probably significant. Pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, Phillip pictured entering his own home. He imagined opening the white door and entering the blue hallway, turning right into a black-painted living room, going through into the red kitchen and then into the green back room. Continuing forward, he followed the arrows, adding more colored rooms to his imaginary house as he went. Finally, after ten intersections, he exited the maze into a large room. Right in front of him was a panel with several colored buttons on it: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, black, white and brown.

Looking up, he saw Twilight in front of him. She was standing atop a small platform, a magic suppression ring around her horn, her wings and hooves shackled, and a noose tied over her neck. Phillip could see the faint outline of a trapdoor right underneath where she was standing.

"Help!" she shouted upon seeing him.

"Hang on, Twilight," Phillip said, going back through his house in his imagination, recalling all the colors and pressing the buttons before him. White, blue, black, red, green, black, brown, yellow, orange, indigo, and violet.

The timer stopped...then reset to 0:30. A light went on, illuminating a sign next to him: "A pony built a house with all walls facing north. A bear walked past the house. What color is the bear?"

What? Phillip thought. He looked up at the timer, feeling sweat forming at the top of his brow already. Twilight shifted in her bonds, trying to get out, watching the timer click down towards her doom.

Okay. Every wall facing north...that has to be at the South Pole. Therefore, the bear is a polar bear! The answer is white! He brought his hoof up, aiming at the white button. But right before he pressed down, his hoof was halted by a second thought.

Wait a minute. South Pole...there are no polar bears in the southern hemisphere. They only live in the Arctic. His hoof hovered over the panel. He looked back at the illuminated sign. It's a trick. The riddle is a trick question!

The timer had reached 0:15, and continued ticking down. Twilight looked desperately at Phillip, unable to understand why he had hesitated. There has to be an answer...but the question doesn't have an answer! What do I do?

Ten seconds. Twilight was struggling to light her horn to free herself, but grunted in pain as the ring forced her magic back into her. She pulled desperately at the manacles, but they refused to budge, rattling as they continued to hold her in place.

Slowly, Phillip took a step back from the panel. If I'm wrong about this...

Six. Five. Four. Three. Unable to watch one of his friends die, he turned away, closing his eyes. The rattling of chains became louder and more desperate as Twilight struggled to free herself. Two. One...Both ponies braced themselves for the end...

Zero. Silence. Phillip opened his eyes to find that Twilight was still standing on the platform, breathing frantically. The locks on her chains glowed yellow, then released. Quickly, she took the ring off her horn, pulled herself out of the noose and floated down to Phillip.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gripping her shoulders in relief.

"Yes, I'm fine," Twilight said, taking a few gulps of air to calm herself down. "Are the others okay?"

"I've found everypony except Flash," Phillip said, slowly releasing Twilight's shoulders. I almost killed you.

Twilight's eyes widened when she heard that Flash was still unaccounted for. "Do you need help?"

"No. You need to get outside to safety." Twilight hesitated. "I will find him, Twilight. Just get yourself to safety."

Slowly, Twilight nodded. She moved past him and headed for the door. "Please hurry, Phil."

"I will. Now go!" Twilight headed out the door. As soon as it closed behind her, a light illuminated a door at the back of the room. Phillip hurried through it and found himself heading out of the back of the mill. The cold wind and darkness of night embraced him, and he heard the running of the river and squeaking of the watermill ahead. A makeshift wooden bridge provided a way for him to cross the river. Trotting across, he spotted several signs on the ground up ahead. There was one large sign, and five smaller numbered signs, spaced out several feet apart. He walked over to the big sign.

"3, 1.5, 4, X. Find the number that makes the product the same as the sum, and multiply by friends saved."

Piece of piss, Phillip thought, and quickly made some calculations in his head:
3+1.5+4+X=3*1.5*4*X.
8.5+X=18X.
8.5=17X.
X=8.5/17=0.5.
0.5*6=3.
Phillip spotted the sign that said 3 and hurried over to it. To his confusion, there was nothing in the area. Just the sign and the dirt beneath his hooves. Dirt that was freshly turned.

Oh, no! He threw himself at the dirt and began digging furiously, flinging dirt everywhere. "FLASH! FLASH!" he shouted, but there was no reply. He burrowed down further like a drill, fueled by panic and desperation. After about a minute of digging a couple of feet, his hooves scraped against a wooden box. Working hurriedly, he uncovered the rest of the box and pulled the top off.

Inside was Flash Sentry. He was completely still, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open slightly. Panting and grunting with effort, Phillip grabbed him underneath the forelegs and heaved him up out of the coffin, laying him down on the ground next to him. "Flash? Flash, wake up! Wake up!"

The younger stallion did not respond. Slowly, Phillip lowered his head and pressed his ear against Flash's chest.

Nothing. No rise and fall of breath. No beating of the heart. Not a single sign of life.

Flash was dead. Phillip looked down at the body, feeling like he'd been suddenly turned into a hollow copy of himself. His eyes stung violently, half-blinding him. For a moment, as he looked down at the corpse, he didn't see Flash, but his father, lying on the floor of the living room back at Sydneigh, eyes closed in death and crimson blood coagulating around his slit throat. Something inside him began to scream, a long howl of agony that echoed within his own head.

He'd failed again. He was too slow. Too weak. Too stupid. And another pony who had trusted him, whom he had cared for, had died because of him.

"No..." he whispered, then screamed. "No!" A rush of anger, of denial burned through him and spurred him to action. Placing both of his hooves on Flash's chest and locking his elbows, he began to push down rhythmically. One, two, three, four, five...He felt the ribs flexing beneath his hooves, but Flash did not respond.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. Tilting Flash's head back slightly and gently pinching his nostrils shut, Phil sealed his lips around his and blew into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Flash's chest rise as air went into his lungs. He blew in another breath, then returned to chest compressions. "Come on," he whispered. "Come on."

Another round of chest compressions and breathing went by, but Flash did not respond. Phillip, barely able to see through the tears that were burning in his eyes, continued the attempt despite his own exhaustion. "Come on, please, Flash." Completing thirty compressions, he locked lips and breathed twice into the lungs. Panting as he came up, he began to press down on Flash's chest again. Everything told him to give up. He was too tired to keep going, and every passing second made his efforts more futile.

But he refused to let the other stallion go, refused to accept that he was dead, refused to accept that he had failed in his oath. "Please, God," he whispered, keeping up the rhythm. "Please, don't do this to me. Don't take him away." On the thirtieth compression, he paused briefly to catch his breath before leaning down towards Flash's face.

Suddenly, the blue eyes flew open with a loud gasp, followed by a round of violent coughs. Flash tried to sit up, then collapsed back onto the ground, hyperventilating in terror and shock.

Relief flooded through Phillip like a cold cider on a hot summer day. He gripped Flash's shoulders reassuringly. "Hey, look at me. Look at me." The blue eyes, tinged with panic, met his, and he felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. "Just breathe, Flash. You're okay. You're okay."

"Twilight—" Flash gasped out, trying to get up.

"She's safe. They're all safe. You're safe." Phillip said, gently pushing him back down. "Just breathe. You're safe."

Eventually, Flash's breathing slowed as he calmed down. Phillip got off him, turning away so he could wipe his eyes. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think so," Flash said, allowing Phillip to help him up and leaning on him for support. The two began to walk back down towards the mill across the bridge. "You saved my life," Flash said.

"There's an easy way to repay me for that," Phillip said, allowing a smile to play at his lips. "Don't make me have to kiss you again."

Flash chuckled. "Deal."

A tear slowly traveled down Phillip's face (the side that Flash couldn't see). He hadn't failed.

Author's Note

Oh, come on, did you really think I would kill off Flash?

Next: the reveal!

Part 9: The Black King

Phillip pushed open the door and he and Flash walked out of the mill towards the collection of ponies waiting around the campfire. "Flash!" Twilight shouted, flying at him and nearly knocking him over in a hug. "You're all right!"

"Course I am," Flash said, hugging her back with equal relief. "Are you okay? Were you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay," Twilight said.

"She's okay, he's okay," Pinkie Pie smiled, bouncing over happily. "I'm okay, we're all okay!" She hugged both ponies, then the others gathered in a large group hug.

Having managed to escape the hug, Phillip leaned against a wall to catch his breath. It was now almost two in the morning and he was exhausted, but the sight of his friends, alive and safe, caused a surge of relief to flow through his veins.

That's when they heard a sound. A single pair of hooves, slowly stamping out against the ground in a round of applause. A voice spoke out of the darkness. "Congratulations, Mister Finder. You're as smart as I'd hoped."

That voice. He hadn't heard that voice in eight years, but there was no mistaking it. It belonged to a pony that was supposed to be dead. Instantly alert, he turned towards the voice, moving to place himself between it and his friends, who had frozen in surprise and were looking towards the pony that was slowly approaching them from the shadows.

The unicorn had neatly combed tan fur and walnut brown mane, mustache and tail, which had some streaks of gray. He wore a dark blue suit, perfectly clean, with a black tie. His cutie mark was a chess piece: a black king. He approached them with a small, arrogant smile, nose upturned as he examined them. His eyes were as black as a deep tunnel, displaying no emotion at all.

"Surprised to see me again, Mister Finder?" he said softly. His voice had a Gerwhin accent, though not as strong as Photo Finish's. It was slick as oil, but cold as ice water.

"A little," Phillip replied, glaring icily at the unicorn. "Last time I saw you, you jumped out of a fifth-story window." In his mind, he went back eight years, to that day...

Trottgart, the capital city of the region of Gerwhinny. He trotted quickly down the cobbled-stone street through the shadowy haze of an early cloudy morning. He had him at last. Today was the day the villain would pay for his crimes.

He turned the corner and there it was: a tall building, red brick with white trim, five stories stretching towards the dim gray sky. A few carriages, a number displaying family coats of arms, were parked in front of the building. As he came around, he saw a shape in the fifth-story window. It was him: there was no mistaking the walnut mane styled around the horn.

Almost as soon as he had seen it, the pony in the window leaned forward and plummeted out the window, falling towards the ground. He disappeared briefly behind one of the carriages, but Phillip heard the wet splat of flesh striking solid ground. For a moment, he stood there, astonished by what he had seen. Then he hurried forward: he had to see, to be sure. But before he had taken a couple steps, a powerful blow knocked him to the street. Pain erupted across his head, radiating from where he had struck it against the stone.

"Entschuldigung!" the delivery pegasus called over his shoulder, not even bothering to slow. It took a moment for Phillip to get back to his hooves and recollect his hat. By that time, a small crowd of astonished pedestrians had already gathered around the body. Moving around the carriages, he pushed through the crowd and knelt by the body.

The black eyes were open and empty. The head lay in a small puddle of its own blood, which stained the expensive suit. He reached down and placed his hoof against the unicorn's neck. There was no pulse to be felt.

As he stood back up and turned to leave, he felt a momentary disappointment that he would not see the villain charged for his crimes, not have the satisfaction of seeing him pay for his crimes in a prison cell. But the feeling quickly passed. It didn't matter. The chessmaster was dead.

"Now, just a minute here," Applejack said. "Who are you?"

"Ah, forgive me," the unicorn smirked, bending his forelegs in a slight bow. "My name is Zugzwang."

"Zugzwang?" Twilight asked. "The famous Gerwhin scholar and nine-time Equestrian chess champion?"

"Ah, so my reputation has not been entirely forgotten," Zugzwang replied, looking slightly pleased.

"But...you're dead," Twilight said. "You committed suicide eight years ago."

"That's what he wanted everypony to think," Phillip said icily, never taking his eyes off of the other stallion. "How'd you do it?"

Zugzwang scoffed. "Easy. A well-parked carriage to block your view for a moment, a cushioning spell to slow my momentum when I was near the ground, some makeup for the blood, a few willing actors—including a messenger pony hired to knock you down at the right moment to give me time to prepare—a squash ball concealed underneath my foreleg to temporarily stop my pulse, and a form of meditation to slow my breathing. A child could have done it." He smirked. "Of course, I couldn't have pulled it off without you. You, like anypony, saw only what you wanted to see. And what you wanted was to see me dead. So I gave you a little show, and you went and told everypony that Zugzwang was dead, and the rest is history."

Phillip's jaw tightened at the realization that he had been tricked so easily. "Clever bastard," he growled through his teeth.

"Danke," Zugzwang replied, inclining his head.

"Okay, officially lost here," Rainbow said, using her wings to rise a few feet off the ground. "Just who the hay are you?"

"The only one of my kind," Zugzwang replied. "I'm a consulting criminal."

"A what?" Rainbow asked. Smiling, Zugzwang nodded to Phillip, gesturing for him to explain.

"It means he's a planner," Phillip said, his voice low. Every syllable was heavy with disgust and anger. "Hiding behind a facade, he plans and organizes crimes; in exchange, he gets part of the profits. He controlled over half the crime in Equestria at one point—everything from bank robbery, forgery and smuggling to kidnapping, blackmail and murder."

"Until you came along, that is," Zugzwang said. For the first time, his eyes showed emotion: anger flickered in the cold darkness like a flame as he stared at Phillip. "You almost got me, Mister Finder. I had to fake my death to escape, go underground and start over again. It was extremely inconveniencing: took me seven years to rebuild." He lit up his horn with a pale golden glow, extracting a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter from the pocket of his suit. Extracting one of the cigarettes, he lit it with the lighter. "And that's when I moved my attention to you, Mr. Finder. I've been watching you and your friends for some time."

"Yeah. I found your little hovel," Phillip said. The memory of the walls of photographs still sent a small shudder down his spine.

"I wanted to be close to you," Zugzwang said, inhaling his cigarette. "Wanted to see for myself how well you handled the various tests that I gave you."

"Tests?" Twilight said, understanding slowly dawning on her face.

Zugzwang took a longer drag on his cigarette and exhaled smoke out of his nostrils, a smile on his face and the black eyes empty once more. "Yes. I arranged for that pearl necklace to be hidden in your book. I told Monopoly about the silver vein underneath Fluttershy's property and convinced him that she could be persuaded to give it up. I gave Blast Cap the plan to flood Canterlot. I told Lockpick about the rare coins in the Town Hall vault. I helped Doctor Nevermore set up his laboratory in the Everfree Forest. And I kidnapped you and brought you all here."

Rainbow Dash glared at the other pony. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't bring you down hard!"

"Because if you attempted to harm me, you would die," Zugzwang said calmly. "And it would be very inconsiderate of you to get blood on my suit." He dusted off the front of his suit and adjusted his tie. "It's an Arponi."

"He's not bluffing, Rainbow," Phillip said. "Stand down." Rainbow slowly lowered herself to the ground, glaring at Zugzwang the whole way.

"Why do this?" Spike asked. "Ponies could have died. My friends could have died!"

Zugzwang chuckled. It was a horrible sound: forced and harsh, like a tree branch creaking in the wind, containing no humor at all. "Well, you see, little dragon, that's what ponies do!"

The sudden violence, the intense hatred in his voice struck them all like a physical blow. Everypony flinched slightly as the last syllable echoed in the dark air.

Zugzwang took another long drag on his cigarette, seeming to calm himself. "And I have to admit, it did make a fun game. An excellent distraction. But it's over now, Mister Finder. Tonight, I had all of you in my power, and could have killed you all in an instant had I desired. So consider this a friendly warning of what happens if you don't keep your distance."

"Oh, let me guess. You kill me," Phillip said dryly, obviously not intimidated at all.

"Kill you?" Zugzwang stated, frowning slightly. "Well...yes. I will kill you, eventually. But I can't just kill you. That'd be so boring. No, no, no." He took a breath and locked eyes with Phillip. "If you don't keep your distance from me, Phillip Finder," he said slowly. "I will burn you. I will burn from the inside out. I will trample on everything you value. I will destroy everything you care about. I will kill everypony you love. Your friends there, dead. The clockmaker and the mailmare, dead. The candymare and the musician, dead. The sniper and the psychiatrist, dead. The blank flank fillies, dead. And then, when you have nothing left, when the only thing of value you possess is your life...then you will have my permission to die."

"Not gonna happen," Flash snarled, stepping forward. "You're under arrest."

Zugzwang smirked. His horn lit up, flashing out a signal. The next minute, a red dot of light appeared on the head of everypony: laser sights from sniper rifles. Everypony froze, knowing that any sudden movement could mean death.

"Amusing, Corporal Sentry," Zugzwang said. "But did you honestly think I would appear without backup?" He looked at each of them, frozen like statues, swallowing and sweating as the red lights flickered over their skulls. "You know, now that I think about it, there's really no reason for me not to kill you here. I'm truly sorry, but you just can't be allowed to continue."

Phillip's mind raced. He felt the others behind him, felt their fear, could hear their accelerated breathing and their hearts pounding in their chests, theirs and his. He had to think of an answer: he couldn't allow them to die here. He locked eyes with Zugzwang and gazed into the black abyss, and the abyss stared back.

And then he knew.

"But you need me," he spoke. Zugzwang did not react, but continued to stare. Phillip continued. "You said so yourself, you enjoyed this game, this game of chess. And you can't play a game on your own. No, you need an opponent. Somepony to outsmart. Somepony that you can use to prove just how clever you are." He paused, swallowing. "So, come on, mate. Let's play."

There was a long silence. The red dots continued to shine in the dark, dancing across their heads. The drumming of the pony's hearts sounded louder and louder in their heads until they thought they would go mad. Then, just when the heaviness in the air became unbearable, Zugzwang smiled.

"Yes," he said softly, in an almost loving tone, striding towards Phillip. "There he is. The great detective, the cold logician and strategist." He paused inches from Phillip's face. "The white knight, striding across the chessboard to save the day. That's the pony I want." Slowly, he reached up and gently stroked Phillip's cheek with the back of his hoof. Phillip did not respond to the gesture.

"Yes. Let us play." He backed up. Taking a final puff on his cigarette, he flicked it at the ground at Phillip's hooves. "Auf Wiedersehen, Liebling. We will see each other again soon." His horn glowed and with a final nod, he teleported away. A moment later, the red laser sights disappeared. The ponies panted in relief.

Phillip slowly looked down at the cigarette, then raised his hoof and stamped it out, grinding it beneath his hoof as he gritted his teeth. "It's over, everypony," Twilight stammered. "Let's...let's go home."

Each of the ponies turned and headed back towards Ponyville, trembling from both cold and shock.

Author's Note

At long last...the chapter I waited over a year to write.

We're almost done. One more chapter of this story.

Part 10: Home

Many hours later, the sun began to rise over Ponyville, the light slowly peeking through a cover of clouds and creeping slowly into every house, including 221 B Boulevard.

Inside, Phillip paced in a circle around the coffee table of his living room. He had not slept that night: every time he closed his eyes, he flashed back to the moment he placed his head on Flash's chest and didn't hear the heartbeat. A jumble of confused thoughts ran through his head throughout the night. His books and phonograph had failed to silence the voices, and the only sounds he could coax from his piano and saxophone were small, discordant melodies that offered no comfort.

He glanced at the chessboard, glaring at the black king piece sitting atop it. He felt like it was mocking him, constantly reminding him of the threat hanging over his friend's heads.

The threat that he had brought on them. It was his fault, his fault they had all been endangered and threatened.

And that meant it was his responsibility to fix it, to protect them. Which was why he had decided that there was only one thing he could do, should do: leave Ponyville. Leave this town and get as far away as he could, sever all relationships with it and its citizens. And then Zugzwang would leave them, and he'd go back to being alone, like he'd wanted.

But, as much as he tried to convince himself that this was necessary, the right thing to do, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Several times he had gone into his room to start packing, only to stare at his dresser for several long moments before going back out into the living room. There was no denying it: he simply did not want to leave. He had lived in Ponyville for just under a year now, and this town had touched him in a way that no other city had. Ponyville was so unlike Sydneigh: there was no warm, wet sea air that smelled of salt, no slick boardwalk by the beach where you could listen to the waves crashing against the sandy shore, and nopony besides him who could make a seaweed slider. And worst luck, there was snow and cold weather in the winter.

But like Sydneigh, it was small and peaceful. Ponies greeted each other with a smile, neighbors knew each other and each other's families, and the community took care of each other and accepted outsiders without prejudice.

And then there were the ponies who lived here. Twilight Sparkle and her friends. Time Turner and Ditzy. Lyra and Bon Bon. Zipline and Rain Breeze. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, Dinky and Tootsie. Flash Sentry. All of them, who had welcomed him into their lives, shared their hopes and dreams and feelings with him, spent their time with him. The ponies who had made him feel...welcome. Made this place feel almost like a home.

What would they think if he left? Surely, they'd understand why, understand that he'd done so to protect him.

You're lying to yourself, the little voice in the back of his head said. They wouldn't understand: they'd be hurt and upset.

They'd be safe, he replied. It doesn't matter if they're hurt.

You're still lying to yourself, the little voice whispered back impatiently.

All right, if you're so smart, he snapped back, What do I do?

The little voice didn't get a chance to answer, because at that moment, Phillip bumped into a solid object that was standing where no solid object should have been. A solid object with pink fur, a mane and tail like cotton candy, bright blue eyes, and a wide smile.

"Are you trying to wear a hole in the floor?" Pinkie Pie asked. "Cause if you keep pacing around like that, you eventually will and you'll have to pay to get it repaired cause you'd keep falling into it and hurting yourself! I know because Twilight actually wore a hole down in the middle of the library once cause she was so worried about a message she got from her future self, even though it turned out to be nothing and—"

Phillip put his hoof over Pinkie's mouth, stopping her. "How can you be so calm after what happened?"

"Why shouldn't I be calm?" Pinkie said, still smiling. "We're all still here, aren't we?"

Phillip opened his mouth to respond, but was unable to think of an adequate reply, so he shut it again. That's when something from what she had said struck him.

Twilight. The Princess of Friendship. His oldest, and definitely one of his closest friends in town. She would understand. She would know what to do.

Like waking from a dream, Phillip found himself in the sitting room of the Friendship Castle. Twilight, Flash and Spike faced him from the other sofas opposite him. It was obvious to him that they had not slept well from their repetitive blinking and the shadows beneath their downcast eyes.

He took a breath, wondering why this was so difficult, and spoke. "I have to leave Ponyville."

Flash's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"To keep you safe," Phillip replied. "Zugzwang wants me, not you. If I'm not with you, he'll leave you alone."

"So your answer to this is to run away?" Flash said, stepping forward towards him.

"I'm not running away," Phillip said, a bit more defensively than he meant.

"Really? Could have fooled me," Flash said, glaring.

"Flash, calm down," Twilight said. Flash stood down, but continued to give Phillip a displeased look.

"Listen, Phillip," Twilight said. "I know that you were scared by what happened tonight, but you—"

"Do none of you get it?" Phillip shouted, angered by their stubbornness, by their refusal to understand. "You almost died tonight, because of me! As long as I'm still here, all of you are in danger! This is my fault, all of this is my fault; I have to fix this!"

The other ponies stared back, startled by his emotional outburst, momentarily unsure how to respond. Then Spike, who alone was still calm, spoke.

"What would leaving town solve?" he said. "You think he'll leave us alone just because you left? You don't know that. And he'd still be out there. He'd just try to hurt you again, but this time you'd have nopony to help you."

"I don't need help," Phillip replied.

"Everypony needs some help from time to time," Twilight said. "Even you. Why won't you let us help you with this?"

"Because you'd be in danger," Phillip replied, stating what he thought should have been an obvious point.

"So would you!" Flash replied, underlining an equally obvious point.

"Yes, but I'm—"

"Different?" Spike replied. "Different how? You're a pony too, you know."

"A pony who's trained to handle criminals," Phillip snapped.

"As am I," Flash replied. "And neither of us are perfect."

"And all ponies could use some friends," Twilight said, then looked behind Phil. "Isn't that right?"

Phillip turned around and his eyes widened in surprise. All of his other friends—Pinkie, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Time Turner, Ditzy Do, Bon Bon, Lyra, Rain Breeze, and Zipline—had gathered behind him, every one of them giving him a look of genuine concern. "You...what are you all doing here?" he stammered out.

"Duh!" Pinkie Pie said, bouncing up with a grin. "I went around and told them all that you were in trouble and they all asked if they could do something to help and I said 'Yeah! You can come over and cheer him up by showing him that we all support him and—'"

"But...you all should hate me!" Phillip said. "It's my fault that you were all put in danger! It's my fault that some of you almost died tonight!"

"Phil, that is a heaping pile of horseapples and you know it," Applejack interrupted. "You didn't commit those crimes. You didn't set those traps and stick us in them. And it ain't your fault that Zug...Zog...whatever his name is came after you. He made his own choices. Just like we made the choice to come and help you."

Phillip slowly turned around the room, looking into the faces of each and every one of the ponies who had come to help him, his astonishment growing by the moment. Nopony had ever done something like this to him before, and he wasn't really sure what to do. Finally, his eyes settled on Flash, on the pony whose heart had stopped only hours before. Flash strode forward and put a hoof around him. He felt the warmth of his touch, and for a moment, he stiffened, feeling both comforted and frightened by the simple gesture. For a moment, he wanted to flee from the room, to run and hide from their kindness, and then he wanted to embrace them. The indecision filled his chest, the increasing pressure making his heart feel like it was going to burst and forcing tears from his eyes. With an irritated grunt, he lowered his face, rubbing at his watering eyes.

"It's all right, Phillip," Rain Breeze said, levitating a tissue over to him, which he took after a moment and used to wipe his eyes. "Listen. I'm a doctor, a psychiatrist. I deal with pain. And I know that pain is natural. It's just your heart's way of telling you that something's wrong, that you need help. You don't have to be ashamed of it, or afraid of it." She tilted his chin up so he could look into her kind, sunshine yellow eyes. "And you don't have to deal with it alone."

"You are not alone," Fluttershy said. "Nopony is alone."

More tears fell down Phillip's face, and he wiped them away, the pressure in his chest easing. For the first time in a very long time, a large, genuine smile slowly crossed his face as he looked around at the others, his own smile reflected back at him a dozen times. Behind them, the sun suddenly broke through the clouds, sending a beam of warmth into the room through the crystal window. Ponyville shone under the light of the new day, invigorated by the crisp air.

"Thank you," he said softly. "All of you."

Fluttershy hugged him and he accepted the embrace as the other ponies and Spike also wrapped their forelegs around them. For the first time in many years, Phillip felt a familiar, comforting emotion pass over him: the same emotion he felt whenever he returned to his old cottage by the docks after a long day of school and recital.

"All right, that's enough sappy stuff," Rainbow said. "It's a beautiful day out! Let's not waste it in here!" Her suggestion was greeted warmly by the others, who began to move en masse for the castle doors. The warm air greeted them as they exited like a close friend. For a moment, Phillip paused, looking around.

I'm home, he thought. And with a small laugh, he hurried after his friends in pursuit of the new day.

Author's Note

I DID IT! It's been over a year of writing and planning, and we've finally reached the point that I've looked forward to for ages.

I have to admit, I had a little trouble with the ending of this chapter, but I hope that you found it and the story a good read! I like to think of this story as the end of the first "season" of the Phillip Finder series.

So, here's to a great first year, and to hopefully many more! See you in the next story (this is one I've been looking forward to writing for a long time, too)!

Josiah

Chapter notes

Part 1
—The song that Lyra sings is based off an Irish ballad, Star of the County Down. She is of course singing about Bon Bon.
—"cailín": Irish, "young girl."
—It was like gazing into an abyss, only it gazed back unblinkingly: subtle reference to Friedrich Nietzsche: "When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee." As a nihilist who believes that the strong should rule over the weak, Zugzwang would no doubt be attracted to Nietzsche's philosophy.
—"mein freund": German, "my friend."

Part 2
—The Count of Mare Cristo: ponyfied version of Alexandre Dumas' novel, The Count of Monte Cristo.
—recalling their adventure in the old Rainbow Factory: reference to Time Flies.
—"Crikey": Australian slang term, used as an expression of surprise.
—Of course, in real life, there's no such thing as front/back or left/right horseshoes. For the sake of the story, there are in Equestria.
—As Rarity and Rainbow Dash's dialogue reveals, this story takes place before the Season 5 opener.
—Phillip commits breaking and entering, demonstrating a Sherlockian willingness to disregard the rules if he thinks it's justified.
—After seeing the photographs of himself, Phillip gets an extremely strong crime sense warning that his friends are in danger.

Part 3
—Before going into the mill, Phillip is reminded of the night he came home to find his father dead.

Part 4
—"Piece of piss" : Australian slang term, "very easy."
—In the cipher that I made for this, the dummy sign said "Fool."

Part 5
—Applejack's trap is reminiscent of the deathtrap from Edgar Allan Poe's The Pit and the Pendulum.
—Iron pyrite is also known as "fool's gold," as it looks like gold.

Part 6
—Well, the average human can hold their breath underwater for two minutes. I'm not sure about ponies.
—"I told you once that I'm not a hero.": referencing their argument in Time Flies.

Part 7
—Phillip's pyrophobia comes into play again here.

Part 8
—Phillip uses a variation of the mind palace technique, made famous by the Sherlock TV series, to remember the order of the colors.
—Phillip flashes back to his father's death.
—One of my initial ideas for this chapter was for Phillip to resuscitate Flash by making a crude defibrillator out of nearby materials, but I scrapped it as being too unbelievable (and because I know nothing about electrical engineering).

Creating Zugzwang
—I realized early on that for this to be an ongoing series, Phillip required a real nemesis, an archenemy that could match wits with him. Zugzwang was born out of that. His inspiration was primarily Sherlock's archenemy, Professor Moriarty, mainly Andrew Scott's interpretation of the character for the Sherlock TV series. The Riddler and the Joker were also partial inspirations.
—The word zugzwang, which means "compulsion to move" in German, is a chess term referring to a situation in which the player will be put at a disadvantage no matter what move they make. It perfectly describes Zugzwang's character. The German root also inspired his "Gerwhin" background.
—Zugzwang's appearance was inspired by Andrew Scott's portrayal of Moriarty in Sherlock. His fur and mane colors, tan and walnut, are inspired by a wooden chessboard.

Part 9
—The confrontation between Phillip and Zugzwang mirrors the climax of the Sherlock episode The Great Game, which this story is partially inspired by. Some of the dialogue mimics dialogue from the scene.
—Trottgart, Gerwhinny: ponyfied version of Stuttgart, Germany. I originally wanted it to be Marelin (Berlin), but it didn't sound right.
—Zugzwang's faked death is similar to Sherlock's faked death in the TV series episodes The Reichenbach Fall and The Empty Hearse.
—"Entschuldigen!": German, "Excuse me!"
—"Danke" : German, "thank you."
—Zugzwang refers to Phillip's past cases in the series, revealing that he was the hidden power behind all of them.
—Arponi: ponyfied version of Armani.
—"...then you will have my permission to die.": reference to The Dark Knight Rises.
—He...gazed into the black abyss, and the abyss stared back.: again, referencing Nietzsche.
—Referring to Phillip as a "white knight" refers more to his being a highly maneuverable chess piece than his being a chivalrous, romantic hero (which he is not).
—"Auf Wiedersehen, liebling.": German, "Goodbye, darling."

Part 10
—And worst luck, there was snow and cold weather...: having grown up in the Aushaylian bush, Phillip dislikes snow and cold.
—"I know because Twilight actually wore a hole down in the middle of the library once...": referencing It's About Time.
—...to run and hide...: in a way, that's what he's been doing for years.
—"You are not alone. Nopony is alone.": reference to the song No One Is Alone from Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine's musical, Into the Woods. Originally, the other ponies were going to sing a slightly adapted version of the song, but I cut this idea as it seemed out of place.

Author's Note

Chapter notes from the story.