Chapters Chapter 1-Something Is Very Wrong
Author's Note
This is the revised Chapter.
Chapter 1-Something Is Very Wrong
Morgan Longmare threw back her covers and rose to meet the busy day ahead of her. The sleek pegasus stretched, yawning. Her golden coat shone in the morning sun. Looking in the mirror, she smiled, pushing her fiery red-gold mane out of her face. “You did it!” she said to her reflection, her pretty brown eyes sparkling with tears. “Mom would be proud.” Wiping the teardrops from her eyes, Morgan went to shower and dress. Yes, her goal to not only make detective for the Manehattan police department, but to receive her certification as a Crime Scene Investigator, had been achieved at last.
Morgan ran downstairs to the kitchen of her father’s home to see the Longmares’ housekeeper—and Morgan’s old nanny—Peach Frost putting the finishing touches on their breakfast. Morgan paused and watched the green-eyed, pale orange mare bustle about the kitchen. Peach’s auburn hair was sprinkled with grey, and her well-rounded, matronly figure was always a welcome sight. Morgan loved Peach. She had been far more than a simple nanny and housekeeper since Morgan was just a wee foal. After Morgan lost her mother, Opal Frost, at the tender age of eight, Peach had stepped into the void and become more of a mother than Opal had ever been.
Morgan poured herself a cup of coffee, sat down at the kitchen table, and breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing only two places set in the kitchen, rather than at the more formal dining table her father demanded to be served at, Morgan knew it would just be her and Peach for breakfast.
“Your father’s already gone into the station. He got called in earlier this morning about a robbery. That’s part of being the chief, always on call,” said Peach.
Morgan smiled. “This is much nicer anyway. I want to thank you, Peach, for always being here for me.” Her eyes were glimmering with tears once again. Then, stepping up to Peach, Morgan gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You know you’ve been the daughter I always wished for, Morgan. I couldn’t love you more if you had been my own,” replied Peach, her gaze misting as well. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the edge of her apron. “Aww, we’ll be having no more of that, love,” she went on. “We don’t want our faces to be all red and puffy from crying before your award celebration even starts.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Morgan rose to answer it. Standing outside was her cousin, Amethyst Kindheart. Her violet eyes were as bright as her smile, and her lilac and gold wings and coat glistened in the morning sun. Ammie nearly hopped through the door and squeezed her cousin until Morgan felt she needed to come up for air.
Laughing, Morgan said, “Ammie, what a surprise! I didn’t know you were going to be in town!”
Ammie glanced at Peach and winked. “Well, what good is a surprise if you know in advance?” she giggled. “I couldn’t let my favorite cousin go through her graduation without coming to be with her, now, could I?”
* * *
Later that morning, Ammie and Peach sat among the families and friends of other graduates. They watched Morgan and the others in her class, as well as the officials, file into the crowded room. Seeing the deputy chief but not Mason himself, a very aggravated Peach muttered, “Oh, I can’t believe he’s doing this again.” At Ammie’s questioning look, Peach continued in a quiet growl, “It seems your Uncle Mason, Chief of the Manehattan Police, is not going to be here. Just like her graduation from the Academy, and every other milestone in her life. What your Aunt Opal ever saw in that stallion, I will never understand!”
Ammie softly touched Peach’s shoulder, her gentle gaze brimming with the same compassion as filled her heart. “We will just have to love her all the more, then, won’t we?” she said, smiling sweetly.
Peach took a deep breath and returned the smile. “Ah, Ammie, love, I am so glad you’re here. You do brighten up even the saddest of hearts.” Turning back to the graduation, she and Ammie watched as Morgan Longmare finally lived her dream.
After the ceremony, while Peach and Ammie were waiting for Morgan to meet them, Ammie grinned suddenly. “Peach, I have the best idea!” she exclaimed. “I want you and Morgan to come visit me in Ponyville for a week. I’ve been trying to get her to come for a visit for… well, forever! Since tomorrow is her birthday, let’s just kidnap her.”
Peach started to object, but then paused. “You know what?” she said. “I think that is an absolutely fabulous idea! It’d serve Mr. Smarty-Pants Bigwig right to clean up after himself for a while.” She laughed at the thought of Chief Mason doing his own dishes and laundry, and Ammie joined her.
* * *
It had been a beautiful evening. The sunset had been nothing short of spectacular, and the gentle breezes had only increased Zecora’s enjoyment of it. The zebra turned from the river’s edge where she had been picking ingredients for the many remedies she created. Having walked the path so many times, she thought she could actually make her way with her eyes closed. As she went, she hummed a song she had learned as a foal, stirring memories of her youth long before she came to live in the Everfree Forest.
Lesede—or Bibi, as her family called her—had been the medicine mare who lived at the edge of the village where Zecora had been born. In their traditions, the Healers were highly regarded and always passed their secrets from mother to eldest daughter. Because she never had a daughter, Lesede was overjoyed when her son Zuberi and his wife Sethunya gave birth to Zecora.
Lesede began taking the toddler into the jungle. She taught Zecora about the many plants, berries, roots, and their uses, sharing recipes that had been passed down for generations. By the time Zecora was a teen, she had developed the skills of a true medicine mare, enabling her to create many new medicines.
Giving herself a shake, Zecora reminded herself not to dwell on the things of the past, for, often, it only reminded her of the loss of her family and home so far away.
Soon she came to the small clearing in which her tree-home stood, along with the small building that she used to dry and keep the flora she gathered. She entered her storehouse and, working quickly, sorted the new specimens, placed them on the many drying racks, stored the dry ingredients that were ready to be used, and tidied her shop. Finally, lifting her basket, Zecora exited the shop, secured the door, and walked to her house. Glancing up at the clear, night sky, she saw the beautiful full moon shining brightly through gaps in the Everfree canopy.
Opening her front door, she was greeted by her young dragon Coal, who had been given to her by a traveler who had traded Coal’s egg for medical help several years before. His black scales and charcoal-grey spines glinted in the firelight, and his emerald, softly glowing eyes seemed to smile. Unlike Princess Twilight’s assistant, Spike, Coal did not speak. In many ways, he behaved more like a dog than a dragon, although what dog could spark a fire and understand the ways of magic? Still, he was a faithful companion and fire-starter. Once, Coal had even defended Zecora when a tatzlwurm attacked her. Sometimes, it almost seemed as though he could read her mind.
Not that I would be surprised in the least, thought Zecora with a small smile. Coal is, after all, a magical beast.
After putting her basket away, she went to the fireplace to check on dinner. Scooting the lid aside, Zecora breathed in the aroma of the vegetable and barley stew she had prepared before leaving that afternoon. She had a wonderful, heavy metal pot that sat over the coals on her hearth and, after placing the lid on top, she could heap more coals over the pot. It allowed her to cook while she was away and come home to a warm meal that was ready when she was. Dishing up her meal, she settled before the open window to eat, relishing the cool night air, fragrant with the sweetness of the night flowers that bloomed on the edge of the clearing.
As she finished her meal, Zecora suddenly saw many lights moving along the path and heard loud, angry voices coming into her yard. Normally, everypony avoided the Everfree. Rising, she hurried to meet them at her door. Something was very wrong.
Chapter 2 - Winds Of Change
The morning of Morgan’s birthday, the three mares had plans for an early breakfast. Walking into the kitchen, Morgan was surprised when Ammie and Peach sang Happy Birthday while holding a molasses and raisin oatcake, topped with a burning candle. Morgan laughed and blew out the candle.
As they finished up their meal, Peach stepped out of the kitchen. She returned to the table a few moments later, carrying a small, wrapped box and a thick envelope. Sitting between the two younger mares, she reached out and held one their fore hooves in her own.
“I have a surprise for both of you today,” Peach said as both looked at her expectantly. “Long before we three were born, your great-grandmother on your mother’s side had two sons—my father, Buck, who was the oldest, and your grandfather, Charles. I know this comes as a shock, that neither of you knew we were related.”
“But, Peach,” exclaimed Ammie, “why did nopony tell us we were family?”
“I know it’s confusing,” Peach sighed. “I will explain. Growing up, the brothers were practically inseparable. Their friends called them Buck and Chuck, and if there was trouble, it was a safe bet those two were at the center of it somehow. Nopony really knows why, but when my parents married, there was some sort of falling out between the brothers. Your granddad refused to come to the wedding, and they never spoke or saw each other the rest of their lives. So bitter were both brothers that my father moved us to Baltimare so they wouldn’t run into each other. Both families were forbidden to speak of or see anyone from the other side as long as the brothers lived.
“Before my mother passed,” Peach went on, “she told me this story and gave me the box to save for her eldest grandfoal. She also asked me to find Charles’s family. I searched and finally found your grandmother, Bea, not long before we lost her. This was not long after Opal married your father, Morgan.
“As much as your father dislikes your mother’s folks, Bea saw right through Mr. Bigshot and despised him. Fearing that he would mistreat your momma, Bea suggested that I move in as housekeeper. She knew that he would never allow me to be there if he knew I was family, and so Bea made both of your mommas and me promise to keep our family connection a secret.”
“As much as I love knowing you are really family, Peach,” said Morgan, “why share the secret now?” Ammie nodded in agreement.
“Well, my dears, Morgan is now an adult. Since she is the oldest grandfilly, I am to give her these gifts today,” said Peach. “As I said, the box is from my mother. The envelope is from your grandmother.”
Morgan took the box as Peach handed it to her, gently unwrapping it. Finding a beautiful, old velvet box, she pushed the button to open the lid. Both Morgan and Ammie gasped as the light fell upon a necklace. Its sapphires sparkled in their elegant, antique settings. “It’s beautiful,” breathed Morgan, barely able to talk.
“I need to explain one more thing,” said Peach solemnly. “In this envelope are forms you need to take to the bank. Bea left you an inheritance, but there is one stipulation.” Peach paused. “You must leave your father’s home and move away from the circle of his influence.”
“It’s funny you should mention that,” said Morgan. “I was thinking last night that I needed to make some changes. If you hadn’t been here for me, Peach, I think I would have wanted to move long ago.”
“Well, my dear, we will both be making some major changes,” said Peach, smiling broadly. “Since you are moving, so am I!”
Ammie giggled, and both Morgan and Peach glanced at her. “This is perfect! I happen to have two spare bedrooms in my home.” With that, the three mares laughed together and made their plans.
The next few days were busy. Ammie went home to get things ready for her new housemates. Morgan went to the bank and filled out the necessary forms for her inheritance, which she found to be quite large. It feels weird, she thought, to suddenly be wealthy. Both Morgan and Peach packed the belongings they wished to keep and arranged for their shipment by the Unicorn Moving Company to Ammie’s home in Ponyville the following week.
Morgan went to MPD headquarters and met with Sergeant Stan Brumby, who had been her superior officer during her career as a police officer. Sergeant Stan had been tough on her when she was a rookie, after she had completed her training at the Manehattan Police Academy. He, like most of the other officers, had thought that, since she was the daughter of their chief, she would be given breaks due to nepotism. They had soon found out that her father showed no favoritism and, in fact, he made it harder for her. Coming up through the ranks, Morgan had quickly become the brightest of Sergeant Stan’s officers. She had taken the toughest assignments and had worked as much as they would let her. It hadn’t been long before even the toughest macho cops not only respected her, but knew she would have their backs if there was trouble.
When Morgan told Sergeant Stan that she was moving, he was sorry to see her go. Knowing how “the old stallion”—as the chief was known—usually ignored his daughter, or made her life miserable, Sergeant Stan understood her need to move on. He gave her letters of recommendation and told her that, if she ever needed his help, she could just call. Touched beyond words, Morgan hugged the pony who had been more of a father than the stallion who should have been.
Two days later, Morgan and Peach set out on the Equestria Express’s morning train for Ponyville. After checking in, they were escorted to a private car. Morgan told the conductor she had purchased tickets for a double compartment.
“There’s no mistake, ma’am,” said the kind conductor. “Here’s a note for you.”
Hope you knock ’em dead in your new job. Best of luck from your family in blue, the note read. Unable to speak, Morgan smiled her thanks to the conductor as she and Peach walked into what would be their rolling home until the next day. On the table, there was a large basket with fruits, muffins, and other sweets. There was a card tucked into the basket, signed by most of the officers Morgan had ever worked with.
Morgan realized that, although she had spent her time feeling so alone, her life was blessed with so many who cared for her. She vowed to begin this new chapter in her life focusing on the happier side of things.
* * *
Ammie Kindheart happily made her way toward Ponyville’s train station. She had received a ponygram the day before that her cousin, Morgan, and their Aunt Peach would be arriving on the afternoon train. Knowing that she had time to make a quick stop, Ammie crossed to Sugar Cube Corner. After requesting three cherry and three blueberry muffins, she visited with Pinkie Pie for a few minutes, waiting for her order. As Ammie turned to leave, Applejack abruptly rushed into the shop.
“G’mornin’, sugar cubes,” she blurted breathlessly. “Have y’all seen any new youngin’s runnin’ ’round here this mornin’?” At Ammie’s and Pinkie’s headshakes of denial, Applejack continued, “Ya see, we’ve had some extra help the last few days. This fam’ly of ponies by the name Grimes was travelin’ through an’ their wagon broke down. Well, Big Mac an’ the Grimes father, Jay, went ta fixin’ their wagon. Granny Smith, she had Mrs. Grimes an’ the oldest four youngin’s help in the sortin’ house. Apple Bloom’s been keepin’ an eye on the two littlest colts.
“Ev’rything was goin’ fine ’til this mornin’. When we got up, we heard the biggest commotion. We all ran out inta the yard ta find Mrs. Grimes jus’ a-weepin’. Well, I’ll tell ya what, it was near imposs’ble ta make out a word she was sayin’. Fin’lly, Jay said that their three colts were missin’. We’ve all been lookin’ since sun-up an’ haven’t found a scrap,” Applejack finished. She wiped away the sweat that had collected around the rim of her hat. “Guess I’d best get back at it,” she sighed, and Applejack rushed out the door as fast as she had entered it.
Pinkie Pie and Ammie could only look at each other in amazement as the door slammed shut.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. When Morgan and Peach arrived on the evening train, Ammie told them about the missing colts. As they passed through Ponyville’s town square, they found that it was bustling with activity. Pinkie Pie and the Cakes were helping to load a wagon filled with food. Applejack was beside another wagon bearing boxes of apple juice and blankets.
Pinkie Pie, who always planned a party at the drop of a hat, knew that the ponies searching for the missing colts needed to eat and rest. Organizing her friends, they had prepared to fill that need. Her normally bouncy manner was now somber. As she placed the last basket of muffins, Pinkie said, “I sure hope this will be enough to feed everypony searching for the colts, Applejack.”
“I’m shor it’ll be a big help, Pinkie. I’ve been so frazzled all day, I never even thought of it. I don’t reckon any of us took time ta eat all day. You’re a good friend ta us all,” said Applejack, giving Pinkie a hug.
“I know it’s no time for a party,” said Pinkie, scuffing a hoof in the dirt. “I hope nopony will think this is the wrong thing to do. I just want to help.”
“Sugar cube, if they do, I’m bound ta set ’em straight,” replied Applejack with a smile. “Now, no more worries, Pinkie. This’s a good thing ya’ve got goin’.”
Bulk Biceps had also volunteered to help. He was walking toward them when Applejack instructed, “Bulk, hitch these two wagons in tandem, an’ then they’ll be ready for ya ta haul ’long ta Zecora’s place.”
“YEAAAAAAAAH! I’M READY!” shouted Bulk in his typically loud, manic manner. He started to jerkily hitch the wagons together.
“Now, hold on there, Bulk.” Applejack’s green eyes flashed as she poked Bulk in his massive chest with a fore hoof. “I’m as thankful as can be ya offered ta help, but if ya don’t calm down a bit, all these supplies’ll be wrecked, an’ that wouldn’t make me happy one lick, no, sir.”
Bulk, whose eyes were bugging out in surprise, swallowed loudly. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Applejack,” he said in a voice that was almost a whisper. Quickly hitching the wagons, he began pulling the loads out of town at a careful walk. Bulk glanced anxiously over his shoulder at Applejack a few times as he went.
Once the stallion was out of earshot, Pinkie burst out laughing. “Oh, my, A.J.! You sure set him straight! I never knew Bulk Biceps could be tamed!”
“Aw, that feller’s jus’ a big, ole sweetheart,” Applejack chuckled. “He jus’ gits a mite slap-happy. I’m shor that he’ll be th’ same as always later. Sometimes, ya jus’ gotta git their attention.”
* * *
After dropping off their luggage at Ammie’s house, Morgan, Peach, and Ammie walked to Zecora’s home, Morgan carrying a small, black bag. As they arrived, Big Mac and several other ponies were leaving hurriedly. The clearing had many ponies sitting around a fire, eating food, while others wearily stretched out on blankets to rest. A small group stood by the wagons holding supplies. The three mares joined these last, Ammie making introductions.
Twilight Sparkle came out of the tree-home and joined the group beside the wagon. Morgan took notice of the sadness in the young princess’s eyes. It was obvious that the stress of the day was weighing heavily upon her.
“Have there been any updates on the colts?” Ammie asked.
Twilight shook her head. “Little Buddy is still the same. He just keeps staring and won’t talk. Zecora says that he should be okay after a while, but I don’t know. He seems to be afraid, but we’re all afraid,” she said with a tear in her eye.
Ammie put a comforting foreleg around Twilight’s shoulders. “Yes, we are just not used to this kind of thing here in Ponyville. Morgan, here, can help if you want her to. She just moved here from Manehattan and is fully trained in police work.”
Twilight looked up and said, “Morgan, we would be grateful for your help. We’ve searched all day and only found one colt!” Then she dissolved into tears.
As Ammie and Peach stayed behind to comfort Twilight, Morgan made her way to the tree-home. Stepping inside, she took in the tidy room, the cot where the colt lay, with his parents close by. Noticing a zebra coming her way, Morgan said, “Hello.”
Zecora put her fore hoof to Morgan’s shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them again, she said, “You have traveled from afar to come and be where we are. Your years of learning will help you see how all these things have come to be.” Motioning for Morgan to follow, Zecora led the way to her bedroom. She pointed to a small table, where the colt’s blanket and jacket lay. “I think these things will help you know whom he saw, the pathway show.” At Morgan’s surprised look, Zecora smiled and said, “We both have different ways to see than most ponies do typically. Feel free to do your work in here—the other ponies I will keep clear.” Lighting a lamp, Zecora turned and quietly left the room.
* * *
Big Mac cautiously led the way into the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters, stepping quietly. He saw a flickering light from the doorway of an inner room. Splitting his stallions into several groups, they fanned out for better defense, if it proved to be needed. Then, moving slowly, Big Mac peeked into the doorway, ready to jump back should there be an adversary on the other side. Seeing nopony at first, the big stallion inched forward. As his eyes adjusted to the light from a fire in the hearth, he noticed a colt sleeping on the floor, wrapped in blankets.
This colt was Troy, the middle son. His young face was flushed with fever and, as Big Mac raised the blanket, he saw the colt’s hind leg was swollen beneath a large bandage. On the hearth was a small pot with some green, smelly goo and another with some vegetables and grains. It was obvious somepony else had been here a moment before. Big Mac motioned for some of his group to search the area.
Kneeling, he carefully unwrapped the bandage. There was more of the goo from the pot on the hearth, as well as three long, ugly cuts. From the angle of the lacerations, it was obvious that someone or something had tried to kill this colt. Big Mac’s face grew dark with anger.
Whoever you are, he thought, you will pay for this!
When the scouts returned, they revealed that they had been unable to locate anyone. Big Mac gently lifted the colt and, carrying him, he and the other searchers began their trek back to the healer. Every stallion walked with a heavy heart, wondering if this colt would even manage to pull through. Two colts injured, and their teen brother was still missing. What evil were they now facing? Surely nothing but evil would do such a thing.
Chapter 5 - The Magic Ring
Author's Note
Will they find the colts before it's too late?
Thanks as always, to Emylia Hawke, whose editing skills are greatly appreciated.
Chapter 5 - The Magic Ring
Not far from the ruined castle, the watcher stood, his dark form unseen in the shadows of the underbrush. His muscles tense, ready to attack if needed, his frustration bordered on anger but was reined in tightly. For now. If the groups that searched knew how close they had come to him, they would be afraid. They were very lucky indeed that he wasn’t in the mood to shed blood, for the years he had spent traveling and fighting had forged him into a force equal to any other in this forest. He had traveled all the known world, but it seemed that, no matter where he roamed, he could never find a place where he could be alone. For only when he was alone could he be assured he would not be betrayed again.
For two nights in a row, these ponies had entered his domain. He watched the stallions, had sensed them before they ever reached the castle. He watched them search, noting how little tracking skills they really had. Now, as they carried their burden away, he followed, slipping silently, shadow to shadow until they neared the home of the healer. Turning, he retraced his steps and moved deeper into the night.
* * *
As Morgan examined Buddy’s belongings, she looked for hair, fibers, blood, and any unusual items clinging to the blanket and coat. Her years of training helped her click into detective mode, but she realized this was the first time she was investigating a case alone. Giving her all the more reason to be careful in her work. Wearing special magnifying glasses helped her to see small items that would otherwise be lost. She was glad that Zecora thought to set Buddy’s belonging’s aside. Logging her discoveries, she made the following notes:
List of items found on garments belonging to Buddy Grimes are as follows:
001 Several drops of blood, check to verify source re. Buddy or attacker
002 Several dark grey and black hairs, genus unknown
003 Bits of green moss
004 Small twigs
005 Spots on blanket, possibly juice from berries
Morgan bagged the garments for more examination later. Placing the bag, along with several vials containing the items on the list, she closed her case.
Entering the main room, she took notes on Buddy’s condition. Seeing Buddy’s parents, their stress and worry written on their tired faces, she suddenly felt overwhelmed. The old negativity began creeping in. She began to question that she could be of any help. From the time she was little, her father had made it perfectly clear that, because she was not a son, she would never be good enough. Morgan became angry, knowing that his rejection had led to her mother’s depression and death. Pushing the negative thoughts away, Morgan renewed her focus on being the best she could be.
Morgan was unaware that her emotions were observed by the wise healer across the room. Zecora called to Morgan and offered her a drink, which the young detective gladly accepted, their hooves brushing as the cup was passed. Zecora closed her eyes for a moment. Morgan noticed a look of pain cross the older mare’s features.
“Are you alright?” asked Morgan quietly. “Do you need some air?” At Zecora’s nod, Morgan walked with her outside.
“To my storehouse would you go? There’s something there I must you show,” said Zecora softly.
Entering the small building, Morgan closed the door as Zecora sank to a bench, looking sick. Zecora took a little jug, poured a small cupful, and drank it. After a few minutes, she began to look better. Then Zecora began to explain to Morgan that, when they had touched, it had triggered an awakening of the senses she had never felt before. She then asked Morgan to hold her hoof.
This time, Morgan felt a surge of great darkness—from hatred or evil, she wasn’t sure, coming from nearby in the forest. Looking into Zecora’s eyes, she asked, “Do you feel it, too?”
Zecora nodded. As waves of that force washed over them both, they fought the nausea. Zecora gave Morgan some of the medicine to help reduce the effects of the dark force. Gathering several vials of ingredients, Zecora mixed some ingredients and poured a small amount into a square of cloth, then wrapped the cloth around the mixture. Finally, she tied it into a small bundle. Repeating the procedure, she passed it then to Morgan, who tied it into a bundle. They continued this until they had filled a small basket. Placing her fore hooves on the basket gently, Zecora closed her eyes and began to chant words that Morgan had never heard. As she watched, to her amazement, the bundles began to softly glow pale yellow.
Opening her eyes, Zecora touched Morgan’s shoulder. “We now share a special tie. We’ll fight this darkness, you and I. Never before a link I’ve seen—quite a rare thing has come to be. Through our tie, we’ll help the others see. In danger now we all have come to be.”
“I feel it, too,” said Morgan with a shiver. “We will have to keep watch to keep the others safe.” Zecora nodded in agreement.
As Morgan and Zecora left the storeroom, they were met by Coal, who, being so in-tune with Zecora, must have sensed her unease. Reaching out, Zecora ran her hoof gently across the dragon’s head, and Morgan smiled when she heard a deep purr rumbling softly from his throat. It was obvious that the pair shared a deep affection for each other.
Zecora set the basket before Coal and, looking into his eyes, she motioned in a circle. Nodding, the dragon then grasped the basket handle with his talons and took to the sky. As Morgan watched, he dropped a bundle, it’s soft glow shining in the darkness as it fell. He continued flying in a large ring just outside the clearing, dropping bundles every few yards. Each pouch contained magic and, once the circle was completed, their forces combined. Morgan saw a golden glimmer of the magic ring that created a safety zone inside the yard.
Morgan felt a renewed surge of the darkness. She looked at Zecora, who nodded—she felt it as well. Hearing a cry and a growl from the sky, Morgan watched the dragon circle the forest overhead. “Coal feels it, too, doesn’t he?” she asked.
Zecora nodded.
Then Morgan saw torches approaching. As she watched the dragon fly lower and follow the searchers back to the clearing, Morgan realized he was searching for the danger she and Zecora felt but could not see.
* * *
Big Mac placed Troy on Zecora’s bed and backed away so the healer could begin her work. As her hooves felt for injuries, she removed the colt’s jacket and the blanket he was wrapped in. She handed them to Morgan, who bagged them until she could examine them further. Next, Zecora removed the bandage. Seeing the green paste on the wounds, her eyes rose to look into Big Mac’s.
“We found him that way, ma’am. I don’t know what that gunk is, but it shor does smell,” said Big Mac. “If ya need anythin’, ya let me know. I’ll be outside,” he finished, his voice gruff with emotion, as he turned to go.
Zecora placed a hoof on his broad shoulder. “Your heart will lead you, as it did this night. It will also guide you when it’s time to fight. Make sure nopony leaves this glen, or lose more ponies we will again.”
Big Mac’s eyes grew large as he realized what Zecora meant. “I’ll make shor ev’rypony stays ’til ya say otherwise,” he said, stepping through the door.
Watching him go, Morgan said, “That stallion is big, but I get the idea he’s as tender-hearted as he is strong.”
Zecora smiled and nodded.
In the next hour, the two mares worked together to help the colt and discover clues to aid in their search for the attacker. Sharing her findings from earlier, Morgan learned that the green salve on the colt’s wound was made from a green moss. When asked, Zecora confirmed the moss from Buddy’s garments was the same as in the ointment. Most of the other specimens found on Troy were identical to those from Buddy. The only exceptions were several small, light grey hairs around the wound, which Morgan collected and added to her case to analyze later.
* * *
By morning, Troy’s fever was lower. Zecora had cleaned the gashes before stitching them closed. Troy awoke and was weak, but he talked to his parents. When asked what had happened, he began to shake and cry. Any attempts to discuss the time he was missing would trigger a panic so severe, Zecora forbid them from asking again. Little Buddy finally awoke as well and clung to his mother, but he refused to say even one word.
Fearing for the safety of everypony, Zecora packed a large crate of her medicines, which Big Mac loaded in a wagon. Zecora told Coal to gather the magic bundles, and then they loaded the colts into a wagon. The whole group headed for Ponyville, Zecora and Morgan riding with Troy as Mrs. Grimes rode with little Buddy in the other. The stallions broke into two groups, one leading and the other following the mares and wagons, keeping watch for trouble on the ground as Coal flew overhead, scanning the forest for trouble. Although attack in the daytime was less likely, they were careful as the moved along. Coal was watchful, still sensing the darkness that seemed to follow their movement as they moved toward town.
* * *
On the river that flowed from Horseshoe Bay inland toward Canterlot, passing through the Everfree and Ponyville, there was a small boat piloted by a lone zebra. His middle-aged body was weary from long travels from his Mother Country, Zebrica. He was on a mission that he had been given as a young adult, just after the coming-of-age ritual his tribe performed when a colt became a stallion. It had taken him so many years before he had been able to leave his homeland and make his start, but he vowed he would not stop until his debt was paid. He could feel the growing darkness, and so he adjusted the sail to better catch the wind. He needed to hurry.
Chapter 6 - The Rarest Of All
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Chapter 7 - Bitter Betrayal
In the heart of the Everfree Forest, the unicorn stallion who had watched at the castle, made camp for the night. Losing his blanket had been an inconvenience, but he would replace it soon. Once the search parties had left the forest by the ruin, the watcher had doubled back to retrieve his gear. He had figured that the searchers would return there, so he made sure to be gone long before they did.
His name was Zahn Blackfeather, and he had been the one to find the colts. The first night, when the little one had tripped, fallen, and hit his head, Zahn had cared for the colt until he was sure there was no serious damage. He had then placed the colt where the searchers could find him. On the afternoon of the second day, while foraging for food, he had found the second colt. Wounded, bleeding, and running a high fever, Zahn had known the colt needed treatment quickly. He had carried the colt to the ruin of the old castle and, in an interior room, he had made a fire. Drawing on the skills he had learned during his travels, he had picked the moss and other ingredients that would draw the infection out of the wounds.
Zahn had gently cleaned the colt’s leg and hip as best he could. The wounds were long, deep, parallel cuts, angry and inflamed, and had needed to be stitched, but, having no supplies, he’d had to do the best he could with what he had. It had been obvious to this seasoned warrior that this was no accident, and, left unattended, the colt would have lost the leg or died. The colt had woken when Zahn had applied the salve to the wounds, the salve burning as it had begun its work. The poor, young thing had been terrified, so it had taken a few minutes to convince the colt that Zahn meant him no harm. The warrior had begun to tell the colt some of his lighthearted adventures, even winning a few chuckles from his patient. Finally, the colt had relaxed a bit, told the stallion his name was Troy, and drunk a bit of broth laced with a medicine that would relieve the pain and help him rest. Soon, the weary colt had drifted off to sleep. Having planned to take the colt to the healer’s yard as soon as it was safe to move him, and get away before being seen, Zahn had gone outside to get some water.
Then Zahn had heard the searchers coming close. Knowing that most ponies tended to get a bit irrational when it came to their young, Zahn had moved to where he could observe but not be seen. He wasn’t afraid of the stallions, nor had he done the colts any harm, but, being a stranger with a wounded colt, he would have been suspected, and they wouldn’t have stopped to listen if he said anything in defense. No, knowing equine nature, it was better to stay unseen and be left alone.
Alone. How long have I been living by myself? Zahn wondered. Seven years? Yes, ever since he had been betrayed by the one he thought had been his best friend. If only he could have seen through Rodolfo’s traitorous heart back when he first met him. It would have saved Zahn years of pain and the loss of his faith in ponykind…
When Zahn was just a toddler, he and his mother had lost their father and husband in the changeling attacks. Zahn watched his brokenhearted mother struggle to go on, but it was obvious the light had gone out in her. Though her grief devoured her from the inside-out, the only reason she even woke in the morning was because Zahn needed her. Forcing herself to go on, each day made her more fragile. One day a few years later, when he came home from school, the colt found to his horror that he was an orphan.
He spent the next two years with an old neighbor mare. Both had lost the ones they loved to the changelings and their hive-mother, Queen Chrysalis, leaving them bitter in their loss. Granny, as he called the old mare, forbade magic in their home, and he agreed with her that magic had been the cause of their loss, so Zahn never learned to use his own. To be honest, they knew it had been dark magic that had brought Chrysalis into being, and darkness that ruled her life, but Zahn and Granny never saw much significance in that distinction. It was more comfortable, and perhaps easier, to turn from all magic.
Zahn ran away when he was still pretty young. His coat, mane, and tail were always just a dirty-grey color, something that the colts at school liked to tease him about, besides being an orphan and living with Granny, whom the other colts called a witch. Zahn had soon had his fill of the teasing. So he slipped away from home, taking a little boat and setting sail from all he felt was wrong with his life. When he woke the next day, his boat was stuck on a sand bar near a big city. He climbed out and went eagerly in search of a new life.
Zahn met some colts who seemed to know everything about the big city, and one took him under his wing. Rodolfo was slick and friendly and, in young Zahn’s eyes, could do no wrong. They saw the best of the city, and, before long, they were on a ship sailing to parts unknown. Zahn liked the older colt, who always seemed to have a bag of bits to spend on whatever they chose. He and Rodolfo lived fast and loose, traveling all around the known world, never letting any moss grow under their hooves. As he grew, Zahn’s coat changed. Now his dark grey and black coat was complemented by a raven mane, tail, and horn that glistened in the light.
Both young stallions liked to flirt with the beautiful mares in every town and country they visited. Not only did Rodolfo like the mares, he liked to gamble. Zahn had never enjoyed the cards, so he would find other things to occupy himself while his friend wagered his fortunes. The last night he saw Rodolfo, they were in a club in a coastal town in the realm of Camelu.
Rodolfo had always flaunted his wealth, but Zahn had never questioned where it came from. That night, Rodolfo, who was always overconfident, played with a large camel, who was older than Rodolfo and far more experienced. Zahn found out later that his friend was a thief and a con. The whole time they had been together, Rodolfo had stolen or won large caches of bits, and they would hop ship and move on to their next adventure.
The camel, Chuma by name and a Camelu Prince, allowed Rodolfo to win for several hours, and thus Rodolfo became more and more arrogant. When Chuma turned the tables on his opponent, the Rodolfo lost everything. In desperation, Rodolfo asked for credit, to give him a chance to win it all back. The wily Chuma “graciously” gave the younger player his lifeline, even allowing Rodolfo to win a few more hands. At last, the bait firmly in the fish’s mouth, Chuma reeled in the line and landed his prey, who now owed twenty thousand bits.
In order to save his own skin, Rodolfo gave up all his gold jewelry, which he was fond of wearing. When that wasn’t enough to pay his debt, he then sold Zahn to Chuma, in to slavery. Prince Chuma ordered his guards to take possession of Zahn—and to whip the furious but beaten Rodolfo and throw him on the next ship out of port. Before Rodolfo was led away, Chuma stood looking down into the cocky pony’s eyes. With a steely gaze and a voice barely above a growl, he told Rodolfo never to return.
The Camelu Princes enjoyed the sport of watching their slaves, taken from the various realms of the known world, fight. The battles quite often were fought to the death. Because he was a slave in Prince Chuma’s Royal Fighting Stable, Zahn had been branded with an iron shaped like a shield and sword. The burn was deep, and it nearly killed him. Made to fight or die in an arena every day, his body, though weary and battered, gained strength and endurance. His mind, too, grew sharper over the years of his captivity. Learning from his and others’ mistakes, he worked his way up the ranks of the slave warriors until he gained the respect of his foes as well as his captors. When he became a top fighter, Zahn was given new freedoms. More food, his own rooms, small money prizes, and he was watched less in the off hours.
One day, he was finally summoned into the presence of Chuma himself. Zahn was told of an upcoming tournament. Princes, kings, and rulers of many nations would be bringing their finest fighters. Chuma told Zahn that he would fight in the premier rounds. If he were to become the overall champion of the tournament, he would win his freedom. If he lost, he would bring dishonor to the Prince, which meant he would be put to death fighting beasts unarmed. For one who was at the top of the leagues of fighters, this was considered a shameful death in Camelu.
On the morning of the tournament, the day broke clear and mercifully cooler than the desert had been of late. The city surrounding Prince Chuma’s castle was packed with spectators of every kind. Ponies, griffons, camels, ibex, bison, yaks, and others Zahn did not recognize. Rulers had each come with their entourage, containing families, friends, servants, and of course their best fighters. From a tower inside the castle, Zahn stood looking over the surrounding valley. Tents for each prince’s fighters stood, their colorful flags and banners waving in the morning breeze. That sweet wind was heavy with the smells of the many vendors selling their delicious wares and smoke from their cook fires.
He saw crowds moving through the marketplaces. Mothers tried to keep track of their young. Elegantly dressed young females in small groups eyed the rulers and the strong fighters. The males of each species were either eyeing the females or clustered around the booths serving alcoholic beverages. Many placed wagers, bragging or arguing which favorites would win each round of the competitions. The amphitheater began to fill as various musicians took turns entertaining the excited crowd. At the noon hour, the lesser fights began.
Zahn spent his day getting a massage after a light morning meal. He went for a cooling, easy swim to warm his muscles gently. At three, his first round began, pitting him against a large kudu buck, whose idea of fighting was to play dirty. Zahn soon found that the ungulate had greased his horns as well as large portions of his coat. Although Zahn could have called the fight and reported the illegal practice, he was determined to win against all odds. The sly kudu rubbed up against the pony’s face as they struggled, causing the grease to get in Zahn’s eye. Temporarily blinded in that eye, pain and tears ran down Zahn’s face. The kudu was able to get in several massive blows, rattling the stallion, and it looked like the trickster would prevail.
Overconfident, the kudu began playing to the crowd, giving the stallion an opening to turn the tables. Thinking Zahn couldn’t see and therefore couldn’t strike, the kudu turned his back on the pony. Zahn struck, knocking the kudu to the ground. As he fell, Zahn pinning him down, the kudu’s head hit with a resounding crack. The stunned audience, suddenly silent, seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the buck to rise. After a few moments, it became clear that the kudu was unconscious. The spectators surged to their feet, cheering, as Zahn moved on to the next round.
In the next two hours, while others fought their scheduled matches, Zahn rested and had the doctor treat his eye. The healer grew angry at the stink of the grease, for it contained an ingredient that could have permanently blinded Zahn. The doctor reported the attempted poisoning to Prince Chuma. The angry prince, as well as most of the other rulers, commanded the guilty buck be brought before the crowd. His guilt was shown and, as punishment, not only did the kudu lose, he was put to death then and there. His owner was shamed, and he and his entourage were banned from the games in the future. Cheating was simply not tolerated. Because he had not called the fight but persevered, Zahn earned even more respect from the entire assembly.
By five-thirty, it was time for the next round of fights to begin. In this second elimination, there were sixteen fighters. This time, Zahn’s opponent was a wiry ibex. Its massive horns would have easily intimidated lesser foes, but Zahn quickly bested his opponent. It took a couple more hours for the remaining fights of that round to be completed. At eight, the fights over for the day, there were banquets held in various parts of the city. The spectators and guests took part in the feasting and revelry, before retiring for the night. The athletes ate, rested, and worked on strategies for the morrow.
The second morning found Zahn swimming and stretching to ease his tired muscles from yesterday’s battles. The four fights in the quarter-finals began at noon. Zahn’s match was the last in this round. Carefully watching every match, he studied the fighters, learning their traits and flaws. Zahn’s match began at one, against a small camel, who was deceptively quick on his hooves. Zahn got several good blows in before the camel’s right fore hoof connected with the pony’s head. Zahn’s world spun and quaked for a few minutes. Making corrections in his plan, he finally clipped the camel on the chin with his shield, knocking the fighter to his knees. Shaking his head, trying to get his balance back, the camel suddenly fell facedown, unable to get up again. Zahn moved to the next round.
At three, the semi-finals commenced. Again, Zahn watched the first fight, studying the fighters for any weaknesses or faults that he could use to win should he fight them later. Zahn was pared with a zebra at three-thirty. This time, they were very well-matched. Trading blows and parries, it looked like there would be no victor. Then Zahn feinted to the right, and the zebra moved to counter. Zahn switched back the other way, giving him an opening to conquer his foe. He would fight in the final round, which would take place at six. The arena emptied as the crowd went in search of refreshments and fun while they enjoyed their afternoon.
This round, Zahn was up against a bison, who was a giant beside Zahn. It was the toughest battle he had ever fought. The bull’s massive blows seemed to shake the ground, and it looked nearly hopeless for the stallion. As the minutes passed, though Zahn was bloody and appeared ready to give up, the bison started to slow down. Weaving on his hooves, Zahn began to connect blows of his own, his slighter form giving him an advantage over the bison’s bulk. Zahn moved around more, forcing his opponent to move, too. This tactic wore the heavier fighter down even further. By studying his competition, Zahn deduced that the bison was used to wading in and powering over his competition fast by knock-outs. Finally, the big bovine was winded. Although Zahn had been moving as well, he had reserved his energy. Seeing his chance, Zahn kicked into a whirlwind of punches and kicks that rained upon the weary bison, who staggered backward and fell to the ground in a heap. Giving a rumbling groan, the bison passed out.
Zahn had won the tournament, saved his life, and gained his freedom. In addition to his letters of freedom, Prince Chuma gave Zahn a bag of coins, sufficient to make his way back to Equestria and live comfortably for a few years, if he were careful…
Shaking his head, Zahn brought his mind back to the Everfree and the darkness that seemed to grow stronger each day. He was watching the group of searchers that stayed the night at the healer’s home. He sensed darkness in the forest, the evil that had tried to kill the older colt. He couldn’t locate the direction the evil was coming from, and, for the first time in his life, he wished that he had learned to control the magic of his unicorn heritage. Zahn watched the dragon dropping the bundles that glowed as they fell. As with new eyes, he saw the magic ring form and realized the good magic was there to protect. He slipped closer to the clearing, inside the protective ring, and rested behind the wide bole of a tree, safely hidden from sight.
When morning came, he watched the healer and searchers as they loaded the wagons and headed for town. He suddenly realized that, as they moved away, so did that evil presence. Zahn backtracked to where he had stashed his bags, threw them on his back, and moved out of the area. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew that, before this was all over, his life would be in danger, too.
Bring it on, he thought. I spent those years fighting and training to be a warrior. There’s nopony better prepared to do battle.
Although he still didn’t trust these ponies, Zahn felt like he needed to help, for nopony he had ever known in Equestria had the fighting skills needed to combat this evil, save maybe the Royal Armies. Maybe there was an upside to the last eight years after all. Turning toward Ponyville, Zahn began his walk, keeping to the shadows of trees so he would not be seen.
About two hours after sunset, Zahn was on the edge of town. He saw three mares coming out of a home and begin walking toward the center of the city. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Zahn saw a figure dressed all in black running up behind the mares. And the glint of metal.
All of the old training kicked in, and Zahn jumped forward, galloping at full speed. The attacker hit the red-haired mare first, knocking her to the ground. As the fiend’s foreleg was arcing down to strike her with what looked like daggers extending from his hoof, Zahn barreled into him, throwing him sideways. The attacker screamed in rage and ran off into the trees.
Zahn turned and helped the mare to her feet. Her large, brown eyes met his as she swayed for a moment. “Th-thank you,” she said softly, her voice quivering. Zahn could tell that she was on the verge of tears.
“Are you okay?” asked Zahn. He felt a bit unsteady himself at the moment, looking into those eyes.
The other two mares moved closer, checking their friend. The red-haired mare seemed to collect herself and stood straighter. Extending her hoof toward him, she introduced herself. “I’m Morgan Longmare,” she said. “This is my cousin, Ammie Kindheart, and our aunt, Peach Frost. Thanks so much, Mr.…?”
“Zahn Blackfeather, ma’am. I’m glad I was here to help. Were you planning to go into town?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Ammie, “Morgan needs to talk to Zecora. We were a bit uneasy about her going alone. It’s lucky you were here to save the day.”
So, to his own amazement, Zahn found himself escorting the mares into the center of town. But his mind was churning as they walked, wondering who that attacker was and why he had attacked this Morgan Longmare. Zahn decided he very much wanted to find out.
Chapter 8 - From this Day Forth
Author's Note
This is where the going gets tough. ATTN: There are descriptions of crime scenes in this and the following chapters. I have tried to convey the scenes in ways to get the idea across, without being blatantly graphic.
Chapter 8 - From this Day Forth
About half a mile outside of Ponyville, the one clothed all in black paced the floor of a rundown tree-home. His furious eyes blazed red in the darkness. He had nearly gotten that red-haired mare, with her big city ways. She thought she was so smart, but all her fancy machines and science were not going to help her. No! She thought she could find and stop him? And that healer with all her potions—they both needed to die. How dare they interfere with his plans? Who was that dark pony that had attacked him tonight? It would take nothing to find out who it was and make an example of him. He would make them all fear him, these ponies who were more like sheep, bleating in fear. They made him laugh, even those princesses in their castles. Before he was finished, they would all kneel at his paws and beg for their lives. None of them deserved to live. They would all die once they surrendered their magic to him.
The dark one slipped out into the night. He would give them their last colt, and with this gift he would begin his reign. He would be known as the Wolf King, and their blood and fear would be his feast. He ran to the place where he had been keeping the oldest colt, Nate. Oh, the fun he had been having with this one! As he opened the door of the cell, Nate began to whimper. The fear was like a drug to the wolf. Powerful and heady, it made his eyes glow again as he looked at the colt, who began to sob through split and swollen lips. Adrenalin fueled the wolf as he jerked the colt to his hooves, snapping the chains that bound the young one like twigs. Prodding the colt forward, they headed for town. The bloody, beaten, and battered colt limped along. His once-shiny, red coat was a crisscross of deep cuts and bruises. His eyes were both nearly swollen shut; he could barely see where he was going. He tripped and fell, only to be jerked back to his hooves and ushered onward again.
And as Nate grew weaker, the wolf thrived.
* * *
In Zecora’s room, Coal began to pace and softly growl. Looking at her friend, the healer nodded. “I feel it, too—the darkness grows—and fear its wrath before morning shows.” The eerie pressure began to build, as if all the air were being sucked out of the room. Zecora’s heart began to beat faster. She remembered feeling like this before, the day she had lost all her family many years ago…
Usually, she would go into the forest near her village to gather her ingredients for their remedies. But this time Bibi had asked her to go farther from home to the waterfall, where some calamus grew. It was hard to find anywhere but near the waterfall in a boggy area. Zecora thought they had a supply of it that they had dried at the end of last summer, but Bibi insisted they needed more. So she had set out early that morning, her bags across her back. She decided to stop in another village and pick up some clover seeds as a surprise for Bibi on her way home.
After she had picked the calamus and some beautiful berries, Zecora had slipped into the pool below the falls. The cool water was refreshing after her long walk. Settling down on a large, flat rock beside the pool, she let the warm sun dry her as she ate the lunch she had brought along. Then, her meal finished, she stretched out in the sun and soon dozed off.
About an hour later, Zecora sat up in a panic. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong. Throwing her bags across her back, she began to gallop toward their village. The walk earlier had taken her over an hour—the distance forced her to pause in her mad run a couple times just to catch her breath. Finally, she reached the trees in sight of the village. That was the first time Zecora had ever felt pure evil. As she looked over the village, she saw some of the homes had been burned; smoke slowly rose from the debris. The once-clean streets were strewn with belongings and bodies. She struggled to control the terror she felt, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks as she took in the carnage. Though she strained to hear over the thundering of her own heart, she could discern nothing but the crackling of flames in a nearby home.
Feeling sick, she started to step into the clearing. It was as if an invisible grasp stopped her in midstride. The impression that she needed to be cautious flooded her mind, as if it had been spoken aloud. Softly treading, she circled the village, keeping inside the cover of the trees. Soon, she came up behind her Bibi’s home. This, too, had been broken into, but much less than many of the other homes. Carefully, Zecora slipped in through the back door, listening for any sounds that would indicate another presence there. She still felt the evil, though it had reduced greatly.
The main room of the home had been wrecked, belongings thrown around and damaged. The door to Bibi’s room was off the hinges, and even the mattress had been ripped to shreds. Turning to her room, Zecora opened the door cautiously. To her great surprise, the room was exactly as she had left it—no, her mirror on the wall was slightly askew.
Crossing the room, she took the mirror from the hook that held it on the wall, revealing the secret panel that only she and her grandmother knew was there. Zecora touched the hidden trigger, and the door popped open, revealing its contents. The things she treasured most were there. Her remedy book, the jewelry that had been passed down through the generations. On top was a wooden box with hearts carved into the lid. Taking it from the safe, she gently opened it. Inside were a stack of books. Turning the first one over, Zecora drew a ragged breath. Bibi’s book of potions and magic! As she opened the front cover, a folded parchment slipped out and onto the floor.
Her knees weak, Zecora sat the box on the bed, picked up the sheet, and sat down beside the box. Her hooves shook as she unfolded the paper, finding a note:
Dearest Granddaughter,
You have been the light of my life and the joy of my old age. Never doubt the magic that lives within you. You have gifts far beyond those of any healer I have ever known.
I place these things here for you because I feel an evil coming. It seeks to destroy us and our kind. I set a guard on your room to hide it from the darkness that seeks our family’s cures and records, thinking we could no longer heal and resist the curse they carry. Take these things; keep them safe. Carry only what supplies you can easily bear, disguise yourself, and go to a place far from here. There is a place where ponies are kind and princesses rule fairly. Go there and live so that you can continue our work. Always remember who you are. I love you.
Bibi
With tears streaming down her face, Zecora folded the note and slipped it back into the box. Squaring her shoulders to carry what felt like the weight of the world, she said softly, but with an iron determination, “From this day forth, I will speak only in rhyme, as a remembrance of this time—until a time that shall see the author of this travesty.”
Zecora cautiously searched her village for survivors, lest those who had done this evil were still close by. There were none. Then, with a heavy heart, Zecora packed a small cart, carrying the wooden box, her grandmother’s cooking pots, and other essential items. She dressed as an old farmwife and piled hay on top of the cart as she began her journey to Equestria…
Zecora was brought back to the present when Coal growled insistently. An instant later, there was a firm knock on their door. Opening the door, she was surprised to see Morgan, Peach, Ammie, and a tall, dark unicorn stallion. After asking them in, introductions were made, and they shared the story of Morgan’s attack.
* * *
Big Mac and Jaberi were talking outside Town Hall when they heard a piercing scream coming from the edge of town. In an instant, they were joined by several other stallions galloping toward the sound. As they neared Ammie’s home, they heard a maniacal laugh that echoed off the surrounding houses. They skidded to a stop, trying to pinpoint the direction the sound had come from.
A wolf howled.
Looking at one another, the stallions cautiously moved forward. In the yard of Ammie’s home lay Nate, or what remained of him. His throat had been ripped open with three parallel gashes. Nearly every inch of his body was covered by cuts and welts. It was obvious to those that looked on that Nate had been abused since the night he had vanished. On the side of Morgan’s workshop in giant letters were three words written in blood—You are next!
Chapter 9 - Underground Magic
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Chapter 10 - Layers of Darkness
Author's Note
The wolf is stalking his prey, seeking to feed. Will anypony be next?
Chapter 10 - Layers of Darkness
The wolf’s anger built. These foolish ponies were supposed to run in terror! Instead, they banded together. This would not do! Had it not been for that fool Nate, there would have been time to feed, but the scream had brought the others far too soon. Something else was off. The nauseating stench of the light magic had grown. How could that be? In the years since he had come to Equestria, he had only sensed a few with any real magic—the Princesses, mostly. The unicorns had their portion, of course, but it was so small it was not worth the bother. He hadn’t smelled this much light magic since he and his father had ended its use in the old country.
The wolf had grown tired of pretending to be good and fitting in. He longed for the bloodbaths he and his father had indulged in, before ole daddy had tried to control him. An evil chuckle oozed out as the wolf remembered the shock on his father’s face, when his life was leaving him. He didn’t think I would dare to take his place before he chose to give it to me. He was the worst kind of fool. After all, he was the one who taught me to never trust another with your life.
The wolf had always enjoyed the taste of blood from his enemies and victims. But the blood from his father had been seasoned with layer upon layer of the darkness that was absolutely intoxicating. Maybe the changelings would be worth trying, or their queen. But that would have to be another night. For this night, he would have to find another of these ponies to tide him over.
* * *
Zecora and Jaberi had talked for several hours, catching up. She had known him when they both lived in the village, and had always felt deep feelings for him. They had both had duties for their tribe, him being the chief’s son and she a healer in training. Rather than allow the feelings to overwhelm them, they had remained steadfast to what was expected of them. And when she had left the village, she believed that all she had loved had been killed.
There had been many other tribes of zebra in the old country, but most had abandoned the old ways, their young turning away from the old magic and cures. Those tribes were in no danger from the evil ones, unless they were in a mood for slaughter, which was a game in their twisted minds, and then not even those of their own kind.
The emotional upheaval the night had brought had left Zecora drained, yet she was happy to see her dear friend again. She needed to check the young colts and get some rest. Jaberi and Coal walked back to the inn with her. It suddenly occurred to Zecora that Coal had made no attempt to growl or anything at Jaberi.
He knows this one is special to me, she thought, glancing at Coal, who winked at her.
* * *
Hoops and Score were hiding behind Sugarcube Corner. Yes, they had been volunteered to help look for some stupid colts who’d gotten themselves lost, but this hadn’t been part of the deal!
“I think we need to get Dumb-bell and get out of here quick. We don’t have any part in whatever kind of fight they have here,” said Hoops, choking back the need to throw-up yet again.
“I dunno, Hoops,” replied Score, looking over his shoulder uneasily, “that cop mare said nopody goes anywhere alone.”
“We won’t be alone, stupid,” Hoops snapped, attempting to get his bravado back on track. “We’ll be together. Now come on. Let’s find Dumb-bell.”
The two stallions rose and began to walk along the backs of the buildings, toward the Town Hall. Suddenly, they saw a dark figure ahead of them. They froze in fear, then began to relax and walked closer, seeing the face.
“Hey, dude, where ya been?” asked Hoops with a sneer. “You missed the fun. It was cool! Hey, wait a minute, why are you wearing that dark outfit?”
Before Hoops could more than blink, the wolf struck, swinging his foreleg. The special knives he had created clipped to his hoof made three cuts across the throat of the arrogant Hoops, silencing and killing him with one swing. Before Score could react, the wolf spun in a circle, cutting his second victim down as well. Slipping the knives into a special pocket in his cloak, he then began to chant the words of a dark spell. The two corpses levitated and followed the wolf as he slipped silently out of town to enjoy his feed.
* * *
The next day, the town square was in a bustle. The train station was full of families boarding to go anywhere, as long as it was away from there. Other families had loaded up wagons to come to town to be safer. Applejack sped past them all at a full gallop. She ran into Big Mac in front of the Town Hall as he stepped out the door.
“Woah, there, sis! What’s got ya all fired up?” asked Big Mac.
“It’s… it’s…” said Applejack, struggling to catch her breath. “Bodies—farm!”
Big Mac helped his sister to a bench gently, noticing how pale she was, in spite of running all the way to town. “They’re dead?” he asked softly.
AJ nodded and burst into tears. “It’s awful,” she gasped. “I cain’t even tell who they are.”
Big Mac ran to get Morgan and Zahn. In a few minutes, they headed for Sweet Apple Acres, with Big Mac pulling a cart for AJ and Morgan to ride in. The guards began to search the town to try to find out who was missing.
As the road turned toward the Apple’s farm, there was a thicket of trees, where all the Apple children loved to play. A spring fed water into the stream that ran through the farm. It had been a favorite spot for generations, for the Apple family and travelers, too. Some places have a feeling that speaks to the heart, but, this morning, the peaceful thicket held horrors that would forever change its aura. There were the bodies of at least two ponies, though it was hard to tell, for the destruction was unbelievable. It was as if they had been twigs, broken and scattered about. The eeriest part was, there was absolutely no blood at the scene or even on the remains. The only exception was where it had been used to spell two words: NEVER REST.
Chapter 11 - Magnificent Masterpieces
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Chapter 12 - Manes Of The Ancestors
Finding that country fool stallion the night before had been a stroke of luck. It had been not long after the wolf had taken the two colts out by the farm. He had started feeding when he heard the dolt walking down the road, talking to himself. Although adding another kill to this thicket would be fun, he decided to use this one as bait. Throwing a sleeping spell at the bumpkin, the wolf had levitated the slumbering stallion and tied his rear leg to a large rock. Moving him through the air again, he had soundlessly suspended the sleeper below the bridge to sleep until he was needed as a distraction. Then, returning to the dead colts, he began his macabre artistry.
The wolf felt Morgan tremble against him as she looked into the mirror and saw their reflection. He saw fear for a moment and smiled. Then he saw her expression change. She looked… calm? How could this be? “You will be good and afraid before you die.” He expected her to react in fear again, but instead her eyes defied him. No matter. She would not only fear him, but beg for her death before he was through.
As the wolf forced Morgan through the door and out of town, he spoke several words. On the other side of town, the sleeper lowered slowly into the water, the quick current moving the stallion onto some tangled brush. The cold water woke the stallion, and he began to fight to keep his head from going under.
* * *
When the stallions got to the river, there was a stallion tied to some brush with his head nearly underwater. Big Mac jumped into the water with Bulk Biceps and Zahn right behind. When they got close, Big Mac said in amazement, “Why, it’s my cousin Bushel! How in th’ world did ya git in this fix?”
Bushel, who was straining to keep his head afloat, just took a deep breath and ducked under. Big Mac and Zahn followed him down. Not only was he entangled, but his leg was held down by a huge rock, with a heavy rope anchoring him to it. One of the stallions had been carrying a short sword, and Zahn quickly snatched it and dived. It was hard work, cutting the rope while totally submerged, but he severed it finally. It took a few minutes more to free Bushel, but they managed it. Gasping and coughing, the group climbed out of the river.
After they had a few minutes to rest, Bushel said, “I wanna thank ya fellers. I was thinkin’ I was ’bout ready ta play a harp there for shor.”
Big Mac asked, “How’d ya come ta be here, cousin? I thought ya were over near Dodge City.”
“Yup, yup, I was,” said Bushel. “Up until yesterday mornin’, when some folks came a-hightailin’ it in, sayin’ there was some killin’s over here. Welp, we’re fam’ly, an’ I couldn’t jus’ sit there an’ leave y’all hangin’. So I hit th’ trail.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Zahn, “how did you end up in the river?”
“No, sir, I don’t mind that at all. In fact, I’m a-wonderin’ that myself,” answered Bushel with a perplexed look on his face. “I was walkin’ in on th’ road from th’ farm last night, an’ I heard a commotion. I saw some weird, red flashin’ in th’ trees. Next thin’ I knew, I woke up here in th’ river jus’ afore that feller started a-hollerin’.”
He was beginning to say something else when one of the stallions on guard at the other end of town ran up, gasping for breath. “I just found Mr. Rock! He’s been cut, but I think he’ll live. But…”
“What is it?” asked Zahn with a sick feeling in his stomach. Another death? “Is it Morgan? Is she…?”
The gasping guard shook his head and finally managed to say, “Gone!”
* * *
The stallions galloped through town as fast as they could toward Morgan’s lab. The poor, breathless guard stopped off at the inn, unable to continue. Zecora and Jaberi were sitting outside at the front entrance and immediately moved to see if the guard needed assistance. When he could finally tell them what all had taken place, the two zebras looked at each other and nodded. Stepping inside the door, Jaberi picked up two bags. They each put a bag on their back, and they hastened toward Morgan’s lab, where they knew they would be needed.
Part of Jaberi’s training through the years was to track. It had taken years of skill to be able to stalk those who had persecuted his people, and to remain unseen. When they arrived at Ammie’s home, they found that Zahn had bandaged the cut on poor Mr. Rock.
Zecora stepped inside the house and saw the shawl lying on the floor beside the closet door. Picking it up, she closed her eyes. The visions came, and she watched as Morgan looked into the mirror and saw who was behind her. Zecora’s eyes snapped open, and she looked at Jaberi. “It’s that doctor. The Andalusian,” she said, her frustration clearly showing.
Big Mac stepped into the room just as she said this and he said, “Dr. Caballeron? The one that came on the train from Appleoosa?”
Jaberi turned and said, “Come, we must hurry.”
So, as the rest of the guard stayed to protect those in town, Big Mac, Zahn, Jaberi, and Zecora headed out of town at a fast walk, with Jaberi in the lead. It seemed he was able to sense a trail more than see one, for it was dark and they traveled with no lights to aid their search. After about a half-mile, Jaberi slowed and motioned for them to stop. Just ahead was a tree-home that looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. In the cracks around the boarded up windows, they could see flashes of red light.
* * *
Inside the hut, Morgan was bruised and bleeding. The evil being that stood before her had tried over and over to break her will. He had beaten her, tried to force himself on her, but she had fought back with everything she had. As tired as she was, she knew if she gave in to the fear he was trying so hard to create that he would be able to kill her. She could see him shaking and realized he was tired, too. He needed the renewing of her fear to be able to gain strength and defeat her.
She renewed her determination to stand her ground. Morgan squared her shoulders, stood proud, and glared at him. He reached out and tried to slash her again, with the three-bladed knife on his fore hoof. She blocked as best as she could with her forelegs tied together. She was thankful for those years of training and physical workouts required in police work. He swiped with the other hoof, knocking her off balance. As she collided with the cot, Morgan was able to reach down into her boot and draw a knife she kept there. Flipping it, she cut her bonds before her captor saw what she was doing. He jerked her upright again, trying to reach around and slice her throat. She twisted and jammed the knife into his chest up to the hilt. Withdrawing it, she backed away from him as he roared his anger, red flashing from his eyes.
* * *
Zecora gasped softly and nearly fell.
Jaberi whispered, “Breathe through it. I feel it, too.”
After a moment, Zecora could straighten again. They decided to go in two teams, the healers as one and the stallions in the other. Once they were in place, Big Mac threw a rock to bounce off the roof.
There came the sounds of a scuffle, then a roar that shook the ground, and then the red flashes became brighter. The door flew open with a flash of blinding, red light. Morgan ran into the darkness, a knife in her hoof. Big Mac, who was closest, grabbed her and drew her off to the side with him. An instant later, the wolf came through the door, clutching a long gash in his chest.
“You can’t hide from me, you insignificant little pony. I will get you for this. You will die slowly!” roared the evil one.
Suddenly, the area was flooded with brilliant white and blue light. The two zebras
In the light, Zahn saw the face of the creature for the first time. “You!” he yelled. “Rodolfo!” Before anyone else could react, Zahn surged forward and knocked the wolf to his back, his hoof on top of the three-bladed ring on the evil one’s hoof, pinning him and it to the ground.
Rodolfo tried to use his powers to fight off Zahn, to no avail. The combined forces of the healers, the dragon, and his wound were more than he could overcome. “Who are you?” Rodolfo grudgingly growled from the ground.
Zahn longed to rip the throat out of this one who had caused so many such harm. He had been trained to kill so easily, and he was sorely tempted as his bitterness surged. Realizing that the bitterness had controlled his heart and driven him far too long, Zahn released it. Keeping pressure on his captive, he leaned down until they were eye to eye. With a growl of his own, he asked, “Don’t you remember those you sell to save your own hide?”
Rodolfo’s eyes grew wide. “But they killed you! They t-told me you were d-dead!” he stammered.
Zahn stood and jerked Rodolfo upright, as one might a puppet. Rodolfo then tried to break away, but was quickly contained. “No such luck for you,” rumbled Zahn.
Jaberi brought out a long rope made from the manes of many Cherica ancestors, all Healers and Chiefs, which, when woven, infused their magic into it. This gave the rope the ability to bind the evil it was used to capture. Although his mouth rained curses and profanities, Rodolfo could not break free, nor could he use any dark magic.
Rodolfo screamed, “No! This is impossible! We killed all of your tribe after that old witch died! Be warned—I will be free, and then you will all die, and I will show no mercy for this impudence! No being can harm me, for I am the Wolf! Fall before me now, for I am your Master!”
Tiring of the noise, Coal landed and stood before Rodolfo, growling a warning. The startled evil one began to struggle and curse again, until Coal let forth a stream of fire that singed Rodolfo’s muzzle. Once more, Rodolfo raged, with the same result. Thereafter, the vile-tongued one kept his mutinous silence, although if looks could kill, they surely would all have been dead by the worst deaths imaginable.
While the stallions had seen to the prisoner, Zecora walked to where Morgan sat on the ground. Taking items from her bag, the zebra began to clean the wounds on the detective’s face as tears ran from her own eyes. It was obvious that this young mare had kept her wits about her and fought back. Besides bruises and cuts on her face, there were many on her body as well. Although, the cloak that was now in tatters had taken a lot of the abuse.
“Did he… hurt you?” Meaning far more than the external wounds. At Morgan’s denial, Zecora continued, “Are you able to walk home, dear?”
Morgan nodded and stood. “I’m thankful you all came when you did,” she said, her voice breaking at the end.
Zecora wrapped her own cloak around Morgan, and they began to follow the three stallions back to town, Rodolfo tied between them. Morgan was exhausted, but with the images in her mind of what had happened tonight… She knew it would be a long while before she would truly rest.
Zecora had insisted that Morgan allow her to treat the wounds that had been inflicted in the killer’s cabin. She also gave her patient a medicinal drink that allowed Morgan to get a full night’s sleep. Though Morgan would be stiff and sore, she would have no lasting ill effects, physically.
The next morning, the town square was abuzz with the news that the killer had been caught. When the clock in the town hall chimed noon, the citizens of Ponyville were surprised by a special train. The officers and Sgt. Stan unloaded, and, from another car, the Royal Guard stepped down as well. Another car seemed to explode with activity, brimming with news reporters who were there to interview those involved with the case.
The last car opened and, to Morgan’s dismay, Captain Mason Longmare strutted down the ramp and into the midst of the reporters. Morgan had no desire to face the press, but even less desire to talk to her father. Knowing that putting it off would only prolong the agony, she began to step forward nevertheless. A hoof on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. She looked up into Zahn’s blue eyes and felt suddenly lighter.
“You stood up to a killer on your own. Don’t let these squawking geese bother you, okay?” he said with a smile that made her want to dance.
“Thanks. I needed that,” Morgan said.
Morgan walked up to Sgt. Stan and thanked him for coming to help. Thanking both the officers and the Guard, she asked Twilight to escort them to the Town hall. Then, turning, Morgan saw the press and her father moving closer. She pasted a smile on her face and allowed Mason to embrace her, as he was playing up to the press. When asked for a statement, she said that there would be an announcement at two P.M. She then invited the group to the Town Hall, where they would have lunch.
Once they were in the building, her father whispered that they needed to talk. Morgan motioned to a small meeting room where they could step out of the limelight. The instant the door closed, Mason went off like a bottle rocket.
“How could you humiliate me like this?” he demanded. “I had to hear from the press that my daughter was involved with a serial killer. Your incompetence knows no bounds. You have likely messed this up so that I will be the laughingstock of all Equestria! How could you be such a fool?”
Although surprised at his outburst, Morgan kept an impassive face and let him blurt his accusations. “Are you quite finished, sir?”
“For now.” Mason stormed to a chair and sat down.
“Okay, number one, there has been no press release made, so how they knew is anyone’s guess. Number two, you are a guest and have absolutely no jurisdiction here.” Morgan saw his face getting redder and redder, but she had to finish. “You have never taken an interest in me or my accomplishments, or lack thereof. For the sake of your ‘embarrassment,’ there will be a public announcement and we can pretend to be friendly. But from this day forward, you will speak to me with respect, or don’t speak to me at all.”
“How dare you speak to me in that manner!” Mason seethed, his voice barely above a whisper, his face beet-red. “You will apologize to me and get yourself back home to Manehattan where you belong. Along with that slovenly housekeeper I’ll be sure to fire.”
Morgan smiled. “Once, I would have been crushed by all this, but no more. If I return to Manehattan, it will be on my own terms. Peach and I will be staying here for the time being with our family. Where there is someone that loves us. Do you remember love? Or have you ever loved anyone besides yourself?” Mason reached out to restrain her, but Morgan quickly moved to avoid his grasp. Mason growled, “I am the only family you have, girl.”
Morgan laughed. “No, Peach is my mother’s aunt, Ammie is my cousin, and you have just pushed me past my limits. If you wish to still have this press conference, we can, but you had better be prepared to do it decently.”
Morgan turned to walk away, but Mason grabbed her and started to slap her. He was challenged by a voice as cold as ice.
“Do not touch her!”
Mason jumped and turned to see a well-muscled unicorn with ice-blue eyes that crackled with anger. Mason puffed up himself and said, “I don’t know who you are, but you have nothing to say in this matter.”
In an instant, Zahn had covered the distance between them. Grabbing the collar of Mason’s suit, Zahn easily lifted the older pegasus up so he could look directly into his eyes. In a quiet but deadly voice, he said, “Morgan told you she is done with you. If you touch her again, you will answer to me. Do you understand me?”
Mason’s face was red, and it was easy to see he was furious. He tried to get down without responding to the warrior that held him fast. Finally, he blurted out, “Okay!”
Zahn gently set the older stallion down and smoothed his collar. Turning, he offered Morgan his foreleg, and they walked out of the room together.
* * *
The day was further complicated by the surprise arrival of Princesses Celestia and Luna. They both requested an audience with Twilight. Then, a few minutes later, they asked Morgan to come into the room.
Morgan was in awe, since she never expected to ever meet the Princesses, but she handled herself well under the pressure. They asked her to sit with them and they discussed the case. Morgan, unlike her attention-seeking father, gave credit to all the ones who had helped through the crises and downplayed her own role. She apologized for not capturing Rodolfo sooner. All three Princesses told her that she had managed admirably, given the circumstances. They asked her to not only help start a local police force, but to be its Captain. After some resistance, Morgan agreed. They then promised her six fully trained officers and an expense account to build or buy whatever she deemed necessary.
Next, the Princesses called in the officers, Sgt. Stan, the Royal Guard, and Mason. The news about Morgan’s assignment as Captain and the rest was announced to them all. Morgan glimpsed her father out of the corner of her eye—he was flushing red again. Morgan knew he was angry that she had been promoted, but at least he tried to act like he approved.
The press conference went smoothly. The details of the case that were safe to share with the public were given to the hungry reporters. The news of a local police force and Morgan’s appointment was next. The wise Princesses, somehow sensing Mason’s bad relationship with Morgan, turned the situation around by praising him for raising such a talented daughter and detective. A surprised Morgan glanced at Twilight, who winked at her. Yes, they were wise indeed. Morgan, Zahn, Big Mac, Zecora, Jaberi, and several others were recipients of the Medal of Valor, which was one of Equestria’s highest honors.
After the press conference, the police and Guards brought out the prisoner, preparing to load him onto the train. Against Jaberi’s advice, they removed the rope, thinking that, with twenty of them, there was no hope of escape, instead restraining Rodolfo in chains. As they led him across the town square, Mrs. Grimes ran up to him and slapped his face. She poured out her rage and pain on the monster who had taken her son. This was the distraction that Rodolfo had hoped for. Without the binding that contained the old magic, he was able to cast a spell that made the chains drop off. With a wave, he knocked all the Guards over and, clutching Mrs. Grimes like a rag doll, roared, shaking the square and all within it. His eyes began to glow red as he drew his captive closer to his mouth, preparing to feed. Before he could make another move, he froze and his hold was lost on Mrs. Grimes, who Morgan quickly pulled to safety. Rodolfo’s eyes lost their glow, and he blinked in confusion, not understanding why his forelegs were not working. Looking down, he saw an arc of blue-white light, then a river of red coming from his throat and falling like a waterfall.
Jaberi stepped from behind Rodolfo, an ancient staff in hoof. A large, blue orb wrapped in silver topped the staff with swirls of white and blue light that reached out and began to surrounded the captive. “The age of your tyranny is complete! Because of your crimes in Equestria, Zebrica, and many other realms, you have been sentenced to death. The voices of our ancestors demand it; the voices of your victims demand it,” Jaberi raised the staff and bellowed, “Come!”
To the astonishment of all those assembled, smoke appeared to come from the staff, then it began to take form. Hundreds of misty shapes formed, and each pointed to Rodolfo. A single voice rose in a mighty chorus, demanding the death of he who had caused their demise. The two forms that frightened Rodolfo most were the image of his father and Lesede.
His name had been Rodolfo, which, translated, meant “Legendary Wolf.” His father Suluwo’s name had also meant “wolf.” They had thought that their dark magic and evil could give them power that no being could withstand. But, in the end, both lost their lives in the same way, the life force spilling from their throats as they looked on, helpless to stop it.
When Rodolfo took his last breath, the smoke drifted away, taking the forms with it. All except one. The youthful vision of Lesede still stood before him. Pointing at the corpse, she began to chant and sway. The evil body began to glow green, then the light began to dim and finally went out. What appeared like a white powder formed on the body, then, in seconds, it shrank in on itself. Finally, all that remained was a pile of white ash. From the air, Lesede pulled an old jar with ancient symbols on it. With a wave of her hoof, the ash rose, swirled, and drifted into the bottle, which she sealed. Chanting again, there appeared a circle of fire before her. She tossed the jar into that flame, and a column of fire streaked skyward. An instant later, it was gone.
Lesede then moved to Zecora. Her smile spoke volumes, healing to the granddaughter who had felt lost and alone for so many years. Jaberi moved beside Zecora, his eyes memorizing the faces before him. Those who watched this display were amazed when the vision of Lesede began to take on more solid form. She took a hoof of Jaberi and one of Zecora in each of her own.
“You have both helped to defeat our enemy,” said Lesede. “No longer will our family need to fear the evil ones. From this day on, you will be blessed.”
Both Zecora and Jaberi began to glow and shimmer. The crowd stood in shock as they watched the two middle-aged zebras changed and suddenly became young again. The years they had lost were given back. Before she withdrew, Lesede gave both of her dear ones a hug. Turning, she gave a nod of respect to each of the
The crowd stood still in amazement for a moment, then began to cheer. The press wondered how to tell their readers what had happened here. Nopony would ever believe it. They didn’t believe it!
The trains left later that day, bearing passengers that would spread the story. The outside world never could believe that story, leaving it instead to fall into legend.
* * *
The following months were busy. A building downtown was donated to Ponyville for the police station. The work began to remodel it to fit in offices, cells, a lab, and other needed rooms. It was going to be perfect and even better than Morgan had even dreamed. The promised officers had arrived and were a great help to the town and surrounding areas.
Zahn and Big Mac had become close friends. It seemed that they were often up to mischief and even running and playing with young fillies and colts in the afterschool sports rallies they had begun. It was good to see the once-reclusive and somber Zahn learning to enjoy life again.
Zahn always had a special smile for Morgan and would stop by to see how the police station was progressing. Although he had not ever asked her for a date, there were some in town that bet he would.
Though Morgan worked from sun-up until she nearly dropped, she was happier now than she had ever been. Her father’s disapproval of her was no longer a driving force in her life. She did, however, receive a shock one day when she got mail from Manehattan.
Opening the letter, she found a note from Sgt. Stan, along with a news clipping from the Manehattan Times Daily. In the article, Mason was telling about the capture and demise of the serial killer dubbed “The Legendary Wolf.” The surprising part was that Mason actually claimed to be proud of his daughter, who had been the lead detective in the case. In the note, Sgt. Stan wrote that he knew Morgan would get a good laugh about that one.
Who knew? Maybe you could teach old ponies new tricks.
* * *
Zecora and Jaberi spent most of their time together. They had both lived through years of heartache and loneliness and had finally found a peace they had never thought possible. To also regain their youth and the chance to be with each other was a blessing beyond measure. Often, they were seen together walking the lanes around Ponyville or gathering ingredients for their many remedies. Once, while watching the sunset, they were seen kissing, while Coal flew, joyously looping, overhead.
