The Fillydelphia Solution

Chapters

Part 1: The Letter
Part 2: Homecoming
Part 3: The Rose Petal Trail
Part 4: Ruins
Part 5: The Best Laid Plans...
Part 6: Ashes to Ashes
Part 7: Reaching Out
Part 8: Dawn
Part 9: The Battle for Fillydelphia
Part 10: Ends and Beginnings
Epilogue: Watching
Chapter notes

Part 1: The Letter

Dazed by an elbow strike to the nose, Flash Sentry barely saw the blow coming in time.

Turning, he raised both his forelegs and blocked the incoming kick aimed at his solar plexus. The leg was retracted too quickly for him to grab and he looked up in time to see a chop coming in towards his ribs. He deflected the incoming strike and countered with a punch to his attacker’s face. The other pony dodged, countering with a quick front kick to Flash’s groin. Scooping up the offending leg, Flash spun around and elbowed his opponent in the chest, receiving a satisfactory grunt of pain. He swept one of his legs back and swept his attacker’s supporting leg out from underneath himself, causing him to fall backwards. The other pony hit the ground and rolled backwards, out of Flash’s range.

Flash moved to press his attack, but his opponent did a backwards hoofspring out of danger. He paused, grunting in pain and clutching his shoulder. Flash closed in to finish him while he was vulnerable.

Suddenly, his opponent sprung into action, flinging a rock that he’d snatched up at Flash’s face. Flash ducked and his attacker leapt at him, blitzing him with a series of kicks. Flash tried to cover up against the attack, but was forced to fly away out of danger. He hovered in midair, panting. His enemy paced beneath him, glaring up at him.

Steeling himself, Flash shot downwards like a bullet from a gun, heading directly at his opponent. The other pony raised his guard. At the last second, Flash pulled aside, moving past his attacker as he pulled a weapon out of the back pocket of his armor. He flung the weapon out; the boomerang whirled loudly as it cut through the air, forcing his attacker to duck to avoid being hit in the face. Flash landed and ran back towards the opponent, rising up onto his hind legs and spinning around with a powerful kick. The attacker blocked Flash’s kick and prepared a counterstrike, but was distracted by the sound of the boomerang returning. He ducked to avoid the projectile and Flash seized his chance. Lunging forward, he seized his opponent by the shoulders and struck him hard in the gut with his knee, then dumped him on his back with a takedown, pinning him with a knee to the neck.

“Yield!” he shouted.

His downed foe glared up at him for a moment, then grinned. “Nice work,” he said.

Flash got up and helped his opponent stand. “Not bad for the rookie, right, Phil?”

“Don’t get cocky, you little ankle-biter,” Phillip smirked, pulling his trilby out from underneath his vest and putting it back on. “You are getting good at that boomerang, though.”

“I’ve been practicing,” Flash said, retrieving the boomerang—a Hearth’s Warming gift from Phillip—and putting it back in his pocket.

“You did a lot better this time than last,” Twilight observed from her position beneath one of Sweet Apple Acres apple trees. She scribbled down several notes in a journal with a quill. “You took fifteen hits, six of which were potentially disabling, and were knocked down three times, but managed to win with a takedown in…” She paused, glancing down at her stopwatch. “Nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds.”

“Twilight, do you really need to take all these notes about my performance?” Flash rolled his eyes as he and Phillip joined Twilight beneath the tree.

“I’m just trying to help you improve your combat ability,” Twilight said, using her magic to retrieve two canteens of water from the cooler next to her and handing one to both of the stallions. They chugged down the water gratefully.

“You’re improving as well,” Flash commented her, wiping sweat off his brow.

“I only landed seven blows and was pinned in three minutes and nine seconds,” Twilight protested.

“Well, you did better than your first time,” Flash chuckled. Phillip snorted. Twilight rolled her eyes.

“By the way, congrats on the promotion,” Phillip said.

Flash glanced down at the new silver pin on the collar of his armor. The three chevrons winked at him in the light of the midmorning sun.

“The test was definitely worth it,” Flash grinned. “But you know the best thing about the promotion?”

“What?” Phillip asked.

“Not having Twilight breathing down my neck about studying,” Flash grinned.

“Hey!” Twilight glared at Flash. Flash and Phillip both smirked and exchanged a hoofbump. The trio sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the warmth of the sun-kissed warmth of the wind blowing through the apple trees. The leaves whispered as shivers ran through the brown, gold and green of the early fall foliage.

“I’m really glad that you were able to meet my parents last week,” Twilight said, pressing up against Flash’s side.

“They were really nice,” Flash said.

“And Shining Armor seemed to like you,” Twilight added.

“Yeah, he said that I was doing a great job so far,” Flash said. “He also said that if I hurt you in any way, he’d kill me, then dig me up, bring me back to life, and kill me again.”

Twilight laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like Shining Armor.” She paused, nestling up against Flash. “Now that I think about it, I’ve never met your parents.”

Flash put his wing around her. “That is a good point. I haven’t seen my mom in a while, and I bet she’d love to meet you.”

“What’s she like?” Phillip asked. “You told me she was a waitress.”

Flash smiled. “She’s a hard worker; did everything she could to put me through school and give me a good life. And she wasn’t afraid to kick my butt if I ever slacked off...in fact, I think I’ve still got her hoofprints on my flanks if you look carefully!” The trio shared a short laugh. “But she cared about everypony, unconditionally, and she never turned away anypony who needed her.” He sighed quietly. “She taught me a lot.”

“Sounds like she’s a great mare,” Phillip said quietly. Silence fell on the group once more.

Flash looked up at the sun, which was approaching the apex. “We should go back to the castle, Twilight. You’ve got work to do.”

The ponies got back to their hooves, Twilight collecting the cooler and the journal in her magic. Phillip nodded goodbye as he turned and started to head back to B Boulevard. Twilight and Flash both took flight, gliding to the Rainbow Castle. They alighted at the great doors and pushed them open, trotting down the crystalline hallways to the library. Laughter filtered through the doors. As they entered the grand room, Twilight and Flash saw Spike and Starlight Glimmer sitting around the central table, surrounded by several books on magic, chuckling heartily.

“—and the next thing Twilight knew, she was lying on the floor with a giant pineapple on her chest!” Spike was saying. Starlight howled with laughter at the story, banging her hoof on the table.

“Spike! I thought I told you not to tell anypony about that!” Twilight scolded, her face turning red.

“Oh, Twilight! You’re back!” Spike started, looking up at Twilight with an expression not unlike that of a foal caught with their hooves in the cookie jar.

“How’s your research going?” Twilight asked, looking over the notes that the two had made.

“Great!” Starlight said enthusiastically. “Sunburst sent a note with some theories on crystalline magic that he had found, and I was seeing if I could try them out." She bent over the table, examining a collection of small shards of purple-blue crystals, samples from the castle walls that she had been studying with Spike and Twilight's help for the past two weeks.

“I’ve got a collection of shards that have broken off in my room!” Spike said, hopping up off the chair and bustling out towards his room. “Oh, by the way, Flash, there’s a letter for you,” Spike added, gesturing to the envelope on the table.

“Thank you,” Flash said, retrieving the envelope. It was stamped with his name and address, and had the seal of the Royal Guard on it. As he tore open the envelope with his teeth, Flash frowned up at Starlight. Starlight gave him a cool look, then returned to the book that she was studying, choosing to ignore him.

Twilight noticed the exchange. “You know, I really wish that you’d give her a chance,” she hissed to Flash.

“You might be willing to overlook everything that she’s done, but I’m not,” Flash replied shortly. Tugging open the envelope, he quickly looked over the typewritten message within.

Then he reread it, more slowly. Then once more, his eyes slowly widening and his mouth dropping open.

“Flash?” Twilight said, noticing the change in demeanor.

Flash didn’t seem to hear her. He staggered out of the room, moving as slowly as a zombie, staring at the letter as if it was the only thing in the world. He exited the room and into the hallway. Dropping the letter onto the floor, he leaned against the wall, his chest heaving with breath. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real!

“Flash? What is it?” Twilight asked, following him outside. Looking up at Flash’s face, she was alarmed to see hot tears streaming down his face. “Flash, what’s wrong?”

“Twilight,” Spike said softly. He handed her the dropped letter, the collected shards of crystal lying forgotten on the floor. Twilight took the letter and read it slowly.

"Dear Sergeant Flash Sentry,

We regret to inform you that your mother, White Rose, has been killed. She was discovered dead one day before the dispatch of this letter. The Fillydelphia City Guard is currently investigating her death, but has no suspects at this time."

Twilight read the rest of the letter, but the words washed right over her. “Oh, Flash, I’m so sorry,” she started to say, hugging Flash.

“I have to go,” Flash said, pushing Twilight off himself. He hurried down the hallway to his quarters, pushing open the door with his shoulder. Throwing open the closet, he began to pull out any necessities he needed and pack them into his saddlebags.

Twilight and Spike ran up. “Flash, wait,” Twilight said, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to stop him. “You’re overreacting. You need to—”

“Overreacting?!” Flash snapped. “Twilight, my mother has been murdered! I have to go to Fillydelphia!”

“The Fillydelphia City Guard will take care of—”

“No!” Flash shouted, pushing Twilight off. “It’s my duty, as her son and as an Investigator of the Royal Guard, to find her killer!” Taking his sword out of his sheath, he held it up to the sunlight streaming through the window to check the blade’s sharpness, then sheathed it again and strapped it to his side. The next moment, he suddenly found himself being lifted off the floor by a field of purple magic.

“Flash, stop,” Twilight ordered, turning Flash around to face her.

“Put me down,” Flash growled.

“You can’t go to Fillydelphia,” Twilight said sternly. “Your duty is here, at my side, as my bodyguard.”

Flash glared at her for several seconds of seething silence. Twilight looked coolly back at him. Spike nervously looked in between the two of them.

“I can easily leave that position,” Flash finally said coldly.

Twilight flinched, her eyes widening in shock. Flash winced, instantly regretting what he said.

“All right, all right, calm down,” Spike said, cutting in between them. “How about this? We all go to Fillydelphia. Then he can investigate while protecting you.”

Twilight and Flash looked at Spike, then at each other. Slowly, they both nodded. “That seems fair,” Twilight said, letting Flash down.

“I’ll...I’ll finish packing,” Flash said, turning back to his bags.

“So will I,” Twilight said, turning and heading for her quarters.

“I’ll come too,” Spike added, already turning to leave. “I’ll tell Starlight what’s going on, then go get Phillip. We’ll meet you at the train station.”

“Okay,” Flash said. He put a few more essentials into his bags and swung them onto his shoulders, strapping them on tight. He started to turn to leave, but something caught his eye: a photograph on the nightstand. He grabbed the framed picture and held it up to examine it.

It was a picture of himself, clad in a sky blue gown and mortarboard, proudly clutching a Manehattan University diploma and grinning at the camera with a smile fit to split his face open. An older mare was by his side. She had a silvery coat and pinkish-white mane, both of which were graying with age. Her kind, crinkled face was split in a proud smile, tears leaking from her shining pale red eyes. Her cutie mark was a white rose set on a pink cloud. She was pressed up against Flash’s side, his wing draped over her side.

Flash stared at the picture for several seconds. A few tears slowly leaked out of his eyes and fell, staining his mother’s face. Wiping at his face, he tucked the photograph into his bags. Taking his helmet, he strapped it on and walked out of the room.

Twilight walked up to him, a pair of saddlebags at her sides. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“I’m ready,” Flash said, looking straight ahead in hopes that she wouldn’t see that he’d been crying.

“Are you sure?” Twilight asked.

“I’m sure,” Flash grunted, stomping down the hallway. “Come on. The train to Fillydelphia will be leaving soon.” He trotted down to the door, Twilight following close behind.

“Flash,” a voice called behind him. Turning, he saw Starlight hovering at the doorway to the library, shifting nervously from hoof to hoof.

“I hope you catch whoever did this,” she said to the wall next to Flash.

Flash blinked. “Thanks,” he said slowly. Turning, he walked to the door and pushed it open for Twilight. The two took the sky and flew off towards the train station.

They touched down minutes later at the platform. Phillip was already waiting for them, Spike sitting atop his shoulders. Spike looked up nervously at the other two ponies as they approached.

“You okay, Flash?” Phillip asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” Flash grunted, turning to stare straight ahead. Phillip looked at him for a moment longer, raising his hoof off the ground slightly as if tempted to reach out to Flash, but he put it down and turned away. Twilight placed herself next to Flash.

Twenty minutes of silence later, the train that would take them to Fillydelphia pulled into the station with a hissing and squealing of brakes. The group boarded and took a compartment, the silence following them inside. With a jerk, the train pulled away from the station and started on its journey northward.

Author's Note

The Fillydelphia Solution is a story that I've been looking forward to doing for a long time now, for one simple reason:

This is not a story about solving the murder of a mare.

This is a story about a city. This is a story about corruption.

This is a story about family.

Part 2: Homecoming

Three hours later, the train rounded a corner and the city of Fillydelphia appeared on the horizon. Industrial spires and skyscrapers rose above flat rooftops, stretching for five miles from north to south. To the east, the sparkling waters of the Celestial Sea shone like a rippling jewel beneath the afternoon sun.

“I remember reading about Fillydelphia’s history,” Twilight said in an attempt to break the silence that hung over the group. “It’s been one of Equestria’s largest ports for several years. With all the businesses and ponies, it inflated from a small sea-side town to one of the most populated cities in Equestria, and one of the greatest industrial sectors in the world. Shipping, manufacturing, mining—”

“It looks pretty,” Spike said, admiring the approaching skyline out the window. “It looks almost as big as Manehattan!”

“Wait until you get close,” Flash grunted.

The skyline seemed to rush forward, as if to envelop the train and its occupants. Before long, they were trundling past junkyards with piles of rusting scrap metal, then passing through canyons of brick and steel buildings that appeared ready to collapse right on top of them. A few minutes later, the train pulled up to the station platform. “Fillydelphia, final stop!” the conductor shouted, his voice carrying down the train cars. The four friends rose off their seats and walked over to the doors; they were among the few getting off the train.

As soon as the doors opened, they were assaulted by a wall of hot, stinking air. The train platform was dark, shaded from the baking sun by a metal domed roof. Litter coated the concrete platform, blowing by in the wind; graffiti of a dozen different colors and styles was scrawled across the walls, competing for attention. A worker in a reflective vest was slowly sweeping the platform with a broom clutched in his mouth, but it was apparent he was fighting a losing battle.

“I take back what I said earlier,” Spike grimaced, holding his nose.

“Either of you got a plan?” Phillip asked as they walked onto the platform, choking on the filthy air.

“We have to start somewhere,” Flash said. “I suppose we should go to the closest City Guard precinct and ask for any information on...on mom’s murder.” He grunted quietly, then coughed. “God, I forgot how bad it smelled.”

“Right,” Phillip nodded. “We—ow!” Phillip cried, staggering and clutching his head. He leaned against a support column, breathing heavily as he rubbed his forehead.

“What is it?” Twilight asked, rushing to his side.

Phillip barely heard her: he felt as though icicles were being shoved through his brain and into his spine. Images raced through his mind: unidentifiable houses, dozens of faces, flashing past at lightning speed.

“It’s my crime sense,” he panted. “I’m getting warnings from all over the city…” He grunted, clenching his teeth against the pain. “All that crime...all these victims...nopony cares…”

“Welcome to Fillydelphia,” Flash said, taking Phillip’s foreleg and helping him stand.

“Here, let me help,” Twilight offered, casting a pain suppression spell over Phillip's head. A cloud of lavender magic briefly surrounded Phillip's cranium. Almost immediately, he sighed in relief and relaxed, then shook his head and refocused. "Thank you," he said to Twilight.

“So, where’s the closest precinct?” Twilight asked Flash.

“This way,” Flash said, starting down the street. Twilight followed him, with Spike riding atop her shoulders. Phillip brought up the rear of the entourage.

The street they walked down was marred with potholes and coated in dust and litter. They walked past brick stores and boarded-up bodegas. Ponies passed them on the sidewalks, but nopony made eye contact with each other. Spike tried to wave at a few passerby, but never received so much as a sideways glance.

“Stop that,” Flash hissed. “Try to keep a low profile. It’s best that we try not to call attention to ourselves.”

They walked past a bearded homeless pony sitting against an alleyway, strumming an old guitar. The battered guitar case sat next to him, with a cardboard sign that read “Please Help” in charcoal writing leaning up against it. Flash dropped a few bits into the case as they passed.

“You grew up here?” Twilight asked incredulously, looking over at a couple of young colts spray-painting a string of profanity onto the side of a building.

“Yup,” Flash grunted. “I know it looks bad, but—”

They were interrupted by a blaring of music. A battered blue carriage with an open bed in the back came racing around the corner. Three tough-looking ponies, their arms covered in tattoos, were riding in the truck, one in the cab and two in the back. A loud song was roaring out of the boom box that the two in the back were carrying:

“Guard killer! Better you than me!
Guard killer! F*** Guard brutality!
Guard killer! I know your family’s grieving...f*** ‘em!
Guard killer! But tonight we get even!”

Passerby looked down at the street as the truck trundled past, but the four friends looked up to follow the vehicle’s motion. One of the ponies in the back, a broad-shouldered earth pony with greasy black hair and “BAMB” scrawled in red on both his forelegs, looked up at the group as they passed. His dark blue eyes focused on Flash. He grinned broadly, revealing several gold and silver teeth, and raised his hoof, drawing it slowly across his throat. Flash stared coolly back at them as the truck disappeared down the street.

“That’s why we don’t want to attract attention,” he said to the others. “We don’t want to get the wrong kind.”

Spike shuddered slightly. “Can we get to the precinct?”

“It’s not far. Just this way,” Flash said, gesturing down a corner. They proceeded down the street, keeping their gazes fixed straight ahead. Up ahead, they could see a large white building sitting some distance away from the street, as if repulsed by the filth. A large chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire surrounded the building’s front lot, which was populated with several black motorized armored carriages with “FILLYDELPHIA CITY GUARD” painted on the sides in white.

As they entered the lot, a pair of City Guards exited the precinct. Both of them were wearing pale gold armor with azure trim and the insignia of a ship sail on their chests. Their helmets had no crests, but they had tinted visors that hid the upper halves of their faces. Both of them had pistols slung at their hips, and the armor was designed to cover most of their bodies, making them seem more machine than pony. Their heads swiveled to track the ponies as they passed by.

“They’ve changed the armor since I left,” Flash commented as they started up the white marble stairs of the precinct headquarters. “They didn’t use to look so...mechanical.”

“Don’t like it,” Phillip muttered. “You should be able to see a Guard’s face.”

They entered the foyer, which was a circular room in white with blue and gold tiles on the floor. Droves of ponies, some in armor and some without, moved in and out of a set of swinging doors. A harried-looking sergeant sat at a wide desk, talking on a telephone and rubbing his temple. The group walked up to him, he looked up and set down the phone. “How can I help you?” he grunted.

“My name is Flash Sentry,” Flash introduced himself. “I’m here to consult on the investigation into—”

“Flash?”

Everypony looked up at the voice. An armored yellow-white pegasus with wavy red hair was walking out of the doors, doffing his helmet to reveal his face. His bright blue eyes shone with joy as he grinned at Flash. His cutie mark was a pair of red dice, both of them displaying a one. A sergeant’s pin was attached to his collar.

“Snake Eyes!” Flash shouted, running over and hugging the other pegasus. “I haven’t heard from you in ages!”

“Well, I’ve been keeping busy,” Snake Eyes replied, embracing Flash. “And from what the papers say, you have too.” He turned to the others. “Who’re your friends?”

“Snake, this is Princess Twilight, Spike, and Phillip Finder,” Flash introduced his friends. “Guys, this is Snake Eyes, my best friend since first grade.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Twilight said, shaking hooves with Snake Eyes.

“An honor, Your Highness,” Snake Eyes said, kneeling before Twilight. He then bumped his hoof against Spike’s fist. “You’re a real dragon? Cool!”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Spike grinned.

“And Phillip Finder,” Snake said, shaking Phillip’s hoof somewhat hesitatingly. “Yeah, we’ve heard of you even down here.”

Phillip nodded, quietly observing the blue chalk on Snake’s hoof, the short brunette hairs clinging to his feathers, and his unbrushed teeth, and privately wondered if Snake made a habit of staying out too late at the bar shooting billiards and oversleeping with his coltfriend.

“So, uh, I guess you’re here because of your mom,” Snake Eyes said to Flash, looking up at his friend with a slightly nervous expression.

Flash’s jaw noticeably tightened. “Yeah. What’ve you found out?”

“Not much, sorry,” Snake said. “She was home alone one night, and somepony kicked her door in and shot her.” He winced at the blunt narration. “Sorry, that—”

“Forget it,” Flash said tersely. “Do you have any suspects?”

“Nothing definitive yet,” Snake said, turning and holding the door open. “Maybe if I show you the files for it, you can get an idea of where we’re at.”

They walked down a carpeted hallway and pushed through another set of double doors, entering an office area. Desks were spread across the large room, all of them covered in papers and most of them with two or more ponies bending over them. A storm of overlapping voices assaulted the entrants ears.

As they entered the room, a pair of Guards passed by, their faces grim beneath their visors. Both of them had a foreleg looped around a shackled earth pony, whom they were dragging towards a door marked “Holding Cells.” As they passed by, the earth pony looked up. Twilight gasped at the sight of his face; beneath the long brown bangs, his face was covered in fresh bruises and blood, and one eye was swollen shut.

“What happened to him?” Twilight asked softly as they passed by.

“Probably ‘fell down the stairs,’” Snake Eyes replied, keeping his eyes forward. “Come on.” He led them over to a wall of filing cabinets. Opening up one of the drawers, he began to sort through the files and eventually pulled out a thin folder labeled ”Equicide: White Rose.” Flash slowly reached out and took the file in a trembling hoof.

“Sergeant, what are you doing?” a voice grunted. Snake Eyes snapped to attention, turning to face the pony that had approached. This newcomer was a tall, broad-shouldered earth pony with a slate gray coat, a white buzzcut and pale blue eyes carved into his stony face. His armor was brightly polished, and the two silver bars on his collar shone like stars. His cutie mark was a pair of dark gray stones that fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. He stared coolly at each of the ponies.

“Captain, this is Flash Sentry,” Snake Eyes stated. “He’s Rose’s son. He wants to find who did this.” He turned to the others. “Guys, this is Captain Cornerstone.”

Cornerstone looked down at Flash; he was at least twice as tall as the pegasus. “Much as your concern for your mother is understood, Sergeant, you are not a member of the Fillydelphia City Guard. This case is not part of your jurisdiction.”

“With respect, Captain, I don’t care,” Flash replied coolly, looking back up at him. He opened up the case file, pulled out a photograph and held it up.

The picture showed the body of a unicorn mare sprawled back in a chair. Her pristine pink coat was stained with dark red blood, which had pooled around the six bullet holes in her chest. Her head was slumped and her eyes closed, her leaf green mane shading her face, which was marked with age lines, particularly around her mouth. She was turned slightly to the side, revealing her cutie mark: a pair of white roses imposed on a red heart.

“That’s my mother lying dead there,” Flash said. “And judging by how thin this folder is, you’re not doing much to solve it, so I—”

“Flash,” Phillip interrupted, putting a hoof on Flash’s shoulder. Flash stopped, swallowing. “Right. I’m sorry, Captain, I—”

“I understand,” Cornerstone said, nodding. “However, you also need to understand why I can’t just let you take the files and start investigating on your own.”

Flash looked up at Cornerstone, his lips thinning. Twilight looked between the two stallions, then stepped forward. “Captain, I am Princess Twilight Sparkle. I have reason to believe that this case may have bearing on Equestrian security. I am requesting that you cooperate with me and my Guard on this case.”

Cornerstone looked down at Twilight for several seconds, then slowly nodded. “I see.” He turned to Snake Eyes. “Sergeant, make some photocopies of these files and give them to Sergeant Sentry.”

“Yes, sir,” Snake Eyes saluted. Taking the folder from Flash, he trotted over to a photocopier in the corner of the room.

Cornerstone turned to Flash. “So you’re really Rose’s son?”

“Yes, sir,” Flash nodded.

Cornerstone sighed heavily. “I knew Rose. She was a vital part of this community, especially in the past couple of years. She was one of the leaders in trying to stand against the Nightmare Snakes.”

“The Nightmare Snakes?” Spike asked.

“The largest of several street gangs,” Cornerstone explained. “They’ve become particularly powerful within two years; they’re currently fighting with their main rival, the Pony Enemy Number One. Because of them, Duke Blueblood—”

“Blueblood?” Phillip cut in.

“You didn’t know?” Flash asked. “Blueblood is the head of Fillydelphia; he inherited the position when I was born.”

“Yes, and recently, he started diverting funds away from public services to pad the City Guard budget,” Cornerstone continued. “He gave us upgraded armor and equipment, built a new prison, and passed stricter laws on drugs and gang activity.”

“And has it worked?” Twilight asked.

Cornerstone did not answer for a moment. “It’s an ongoing struggle,” he finally stated. “White Rose was cooperating with us on providing information about the gang activities. I had met with her several times. If I had been with her that night…” He paused, closing his eyes and sighing deeply.

“We will find the pony who killed her, Sergeant,” he said softly. “With your help.”

At that moment, Snake Eyes ran back up, holding a collection of photocopied files and photographs. “Here, Flash,” he said, handing the stack of papers to him.

“Now, I wish I could take the time to discuss this with you, but everypony here is very busy,” Cornerstone said. “We will contact you later.”

“I’ll show you out,” Snake Eyes offered.

“Thanks, Snake,” Flash said. He shook hooves with Captain Cornerstone once more. “Thank you for your cooperation, Captain.”

“I look forward to working with all of you,” Cornerstone stated, nodding to the group as they departed.

Snake Eyes gave Flash a small sideways smile as they headed back up the hallway. “You know what this reminds me of? Remember when we were kids and we set up that amateur detective agency?”

Flash chuckled. “And we handled cases like the missing blueberry pie...which I’m still sure you’re responsible for.”

“You can’t prove it in a court of law!” Snake Eyes replied in mock offense, grinning as he pushed the door to the foyer open. However, as the door swung shut, he glanced behind him, the smile vanishing from his face.

“Guys, listen,” he said softly. “You need to be careful.”

“We’ve handled worse than gangs before,” Flash replied.

“It’s not just the gangs,” Snake said. “It’s the Guard.” He glanced up at the door. “You saw that prisoner’s face. There’s a reason that the citizens don’t trust us anymore.”

“But they should,” Spike said in obvious confusion. “The City Guard’s supposed to protect ponies, right?”

Snake Eyes sighed. “Supposed to, yes.” He paused suddenly, reaching a hoof up to the earpiece in his right ear with a frown. “I’ve gotta go. Stay safe, guys.” Turning, he pushed back through the doors. Flash watched him go, his mouth hanging open for a moment, then turned and slowly exited the building. Twilight, Spike and Phillip followed as he trotted down the sidewalk, his hooves seemingly carrying him forward of their own accord.

They trotted down the cracked sidewalk, past convenience stores where loiterers catcalled Twilight and condos with peeling paint, until they reached a small park. The tiny patch of trees, grass and wilting flowers was unpopulated; litter covered the stone pathway, blowing past in the wind. Flash walked over to an old, rotting bench and sat down upon it, staring straight ahead.

“Flash, are you alright?” Twilight asked, sitting down next to him. Spike sat on Flash’s other side; Phillip stood next to the bench.

Flash blinked, still holding the photocopies beneath his wing. “I haven’t been back here in years,” he said softly. “I’ve got so many memories of this place. Even this park…” He gestured around at the trees. “I used to come here to play with Snake Eyes and my other friends all the time. Mom would bring me here for walks; sometimes when it was warm and she had an extra bit, she’d buy me an ice cream.” A small smile spread across his face at the memory, but quickly vanished.

“Do you have any other family here?” Spike asked.

“Nope,” Flash shook his head. “Only child of an only child of only children.”

“What about your dad?”

Flash’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened in fury. “I don’t have a father,” he growled. “I had an abusive, good-for-nothing bully who liked to hit mom when he was drunk...which was all the time. He abandoned her when he found she was pregnant with me.” He took in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “He died before I was born. It was the drink that killed him.”

“He died from alcohol poisoning?” Twilight asked.

“No, he was run over by a cider carriage,” Flash explained. He sighed and fell back against the chair.

“When Snake Eyes and I graduated high school and went to college, we both decided we wanted to be in the Guard,” he said. “I wanted adventure, rescuing princesses, all that jazz. But he...he just wanted to stay here, try to fix things. He wanted to save this city.” He looked around at the littered park, despondently kicking an empty soda can. “And now I come back here...and it’s all gotten worse.”

Twilight put a wing around Flash reassuringly. “It’s going to be okay, Flash. We can change things.”

“How?” Flash burst out. “Fillydelphia has been like this since before either of us was born, and it’s only gotten worse! How can anypony fix this?”

Twilight silently stared at him, uncertainty plainly scrawled across her face. Flash sighed heavily, lowering his face onto his hooves. Phillip and Spike hovered beside them, both of them unable to conjure the words to say.

A moment later, the moment was interrupted by a melodious voice, crooning a hymn in a tone borne to them on the late fall winds:

”Wade in the water…
Wade in the water, children,
Wade in the water…
God’s gonna trouble the water.”

Everypony turned to look up at the singing pony walking up the pathway. She was an elderly unicorn mare, her grandmotherly face marked with soft age wrinkles. Her coat was sunshine yellow, and her gray mane was drawn up in a short bun. Her cutie mark was a dandelion flower with a music note. Dangling from her neck was a silver pendant of an open book with a shepherd’s staff.

“Pastor?” Flash asked in surprise, rising from the bench.

The mare smiled warmly at Flash. “Flash Sentry. I always knew you’d be back one day.”

Flash smiled and dashed over to the mare, giving her a warm hug. “Good to see you, Pastor.” He turned to the others. “Guys, this is Pastor Joyful Sound.”

“Good to meet all of you,” Joyful said, shaking hooves with everypony as Flash introduced them. She turned to Flash with a look of concern. “You’re here because of your mother.”

The elation instantly vanished from Flash’s face. He nodded silently.

“Well, dear, we’re having the service for her in a week. Where are you staying?”

Flash blinked and looked at Twilight. “Well, we, uh…”

Joyful Sound smiled and shook her head. “Still the same. Well, come on, you can’t stay out here in the cold. You’ll stay with me in the church.”

“Oh, no, Pastor, we couldn’t—” Twilight protested.

“Child, I insist,” Joyful interrupted. “You won’t be a burden, not in the slightest.”

Flash gave Twilight a meaningful look. “She’s not going to give up, Twi. We’d better go with her.”

Twilight looked at Flash, then smiled at Joyful Sound. “Well, then I guess we’re staying at the church.”

“Come with me,” Joyful smiled, leading them out of the park. “I’ve got some fresh cobs of corn waiting for us.”

Author's Note

Well within a week, we have the next chapter of the story.

Welcome to Fillydelphia, a city of corruption and despair, where the only thing separating the City Guards from the gangs is that one of them wears armor. What can four friends do to change this situation?

Part 3: The Rose Petal Trail

Joyful Sound led them down the street until they reached a two-story temple constructed of gray stone. A pathway bordered by bright, multi-colored stream of lovingly tended flowers led to the great wooden doors. Next to the pathway was a wooden sign that declared in peeling blue paint, “Fillydelphia Universalist Temple,” with an image of an open book and a shepherd’s hook beneath it. The tall bell tower was silhouetted against the darkening sky.

“I only have one guest room to offer you,” Pastor Joyful said as she opened up the door and led them into a grand entrance hallway, which was decorated with abstract images of mountainous regions and flowering fields on the walls. “I know it isn’t much, but the temple is always open to those in need.”

“Thank you, Pastor,” Twilight smiled, lifting Spike from her shoulders.

“I just wish we could still serve the community in the ways that we used to,” Joyful sighed.

“Don’t tell me you had to close the food shelf!” Flash cried in disbelief.

Joyful Sound nodded glumly. “The funds and donations just dried up; we couldn’t afford to keep it open any longer. Your mother fought tooth and hoof for it, but it was a fight she couldn’t win.” She paused. “She was a shining star in this community, Flash. She brought hope to everypony she met. I just…I hope that I can continue her work.”

“You will, Pastor,” Flash said quietly.

Phillip looked up at a sign that hung over the door into the sanctuary, reading the flowing golden script: ”Love is the spirit of this congregation, and service is its law. This is our covenant: to dwell together in peace, to seek truth in love, and to help one another.” With a quiet sigh, he pushed the door open for the others.

The sanctuary of the temple was a long rectangular room with several cushioned pews set in regular rows; light blue hymnals sat in slots on the backs of each pew. Both walls on either side had been replaced with floor-to-ceiling windows, which revealed the large gardens that bordered the sanctuary; seven-foot-tall sunflowers stood sentry along the windows, as if peering inside, eager to listen in on the sermons. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, providing only minor illumination. Placed on the raised dais up front was a pipe organ and a round table with a brazier on it.

“This way,” Pastor Joyful said, guiding them down the center aisle. They walked past the dais and through another door, moving up a set of stairs to the upper floors. They passed a few offices, a classroom for younglings, and a room with a piano where the choir practiced. Finally, they reached two rooms at the end of the hallway.

“This one is my room,” Joyful Sound said, gesturing to the door on the right. “You will be staying in here.” She opened the left door to reveal the guest room. The simple room had a light green carpet, a large bed with white sheets, a white sofa with pillows, a small bedside table with a clock and a few books, a simple chair and desk, and a couple of lamps.

“It’s a bit small, but it’ll do,” Twilight said approvingly, examining the room.

“The kitchen and dining room is downstairs,” Joyful said. “I’ll get dinner ready!”

“I’ll come help!” Spike declared, eagerly following her down the stairs. Twilight settled down on the bed, which she found to be comfortably springy.

“She seems nice,” she commented to Flash.

“Pastor Joyful has been running this temple since I was a foal,” Flash said. “She and Mom used to head most of the community services.” He sighed. “I guess somepony else will have to head those.”

An uncomfortable silence hung over the group for a moment like a rogue rain cloud. “We need to take a look at the case files,” Phillip stated.

“Right,” Flash nodded, taking the folder out from underneath his wing. Spreading out the files on the desk, he began to sort through them, placing the photographs of the scene into ordered rows and stacking the reports.

The images displayed White Rose lying dead in one of the two chairs of her sitting room. The room was lit by a single standing lamp in between the chairs. A single partially full glass of milk sat on a coaster on the table in front of her. The front door had been violently kicked in, and lay against the wall, barely hanging onto the doorjamb by a single hinge. A set of framed pictures sat on top of the mantelpiece over the fireplace set against the wall.

Flash picked up one of the photos, which was a closeup of his mother’s face. With her eyes closed and her head hanging low, she should have appeared to simply be asleep; however, even without the visible bloodstains across her neck and chest to betray the truth, the reality was still painfully apparent. Dead ponies do not look like they’re sleeping, they look like they’re dead. And White Rose was dead, never to wake up again. Sighing quietly, Flash stroked the image with a hoof.

Phillip walked up to Flash and put a reassuring hoof on his shoulder. “We’re going to find the pony who killed her, and we’re going to make them pay,” he said quietly.

Flash wiped his eyes and cleared his throat with a nod.

“What’s our plan for tomorrow?” Twilight asked.

“We need to examine the crime scene ourselves,” Flash stated, setting the photographs down. “Maybe we’ll find something that the Guards missed.”

“Speaking of which, I think it’s best that we avoid the Guards as much as possible,” Phillip added. “I don’t trust any of them, not after what I saw today.”

Flash chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “You’re right,” he agreed. “There’s just no way of telling who’s on our side and who’s not.”

“I hate the idea that you can’t even trust Royal Guards,” Twilight sighed. “Why can’t somepony do something?”

“Fillydelphia has been like this since before my mother was born, and it’s only gotten worse over the years,” Flash stated, sitting down next to her. “Ponies have tried to change things, but…” He sighed, suddenly looking dejected.

“Why did I come back here?” he groaned. “There’s only the four of us. Even if I solve mom’s murder and find the killer, there’s no point; a dozen others will pop up to replace him, and nothing will change.” He lowered his head onto his hoof. Twilight slowly draped a wing around him, but he did not react.

Phillip slowly walked in front of Flash. “Because it’s the right thing to do, Flash,” he said. “Nothing is going to stop criminals forever, you and I both know that; but we can’t give up. Ponies have to be shown that the bad guys don’t have to win.”

Flash looked up at him. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said. “They’ve already won.”

“No, they haven’t,” Phil replied firmly. “Not as long as there are good ponies like you who are willing to stand up to them.” He paused, then sighed and put a hoof on Flash’s shoulder. “I get it, Flash. This job...it does feel pointless sometimes, like you’re not getting anything done.”

“How did you deal with it?” Flash asked.

“By keeping at it,” Phillip replied. “By reminding myself that there were ponies who needed help and that they were depending on me.”

“Yeah, but…” Flash looked down at the photographs again. “Mom’s dead. She’s not depending on me for anything anymore.”

“Yes, but these other ponies are,” Twilight responded. “We have a chance to help these ponies, to show them that they don’t have to live in fear.”

“And I ask again: how?” Flash answered.

“We can start by solving your mother’s murder,” Twilight answered. “Just remember, Flash; we will be here to help you every step of the way.” She lifted her forelegs and wrapped them around Flash’s shoulders, hugging him close.

Safe in her embrace, Flash’s walls finally broke. Lowering his face onto Twilight’s shoulder, he began to cry quietly, allowing the tears that he had been holding back for so long to flow from his eyes. Twilight held him tightly, rocking him gently as he wept.

“It’s all right,” Phillip whispered, gently patting Flash on the back. “It’s all right. Let it out.”

After a few minutes, Flash regained control of himself. He sat up, wiping his reddening eyes with his wing. “Thanks,” he croaked hoarsely, managing a weak smile.

Twilight kissed him on the cheek. “You’re welcome.”

“Hey, guys!” Spike called from the doorway, wiping his claws on a towel. “Dinner is served!” Three stomachs rumbled in reply.

“This way, please, madame et messieurs,” Spike said in an over-the-top Prench accent, bowing them down the hallway. He led them back downstairs and into the small kitchen-sitting room. Joyful Sound was setting up a table with five settings, lowering a plate of steaming cobs of corn into place next to a bowl of pasta salad.

“Come and say grace,” she said as she beckoned them to their seats. The friends took their places as Joyful bowed her head, gesturing for each of them to join hooves. Twilight, Spike and Flash all took each other’s hooves without pause, but Phillip hesitated momentarily before taking Joyful’s hoof and Spike’s claw in his own grasp.

“For food, for raiment, for life, for opportunity, for friendship and fellowship, we thank thee, O Lord,” Joyful prayed. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Flash repeated, followed by the others.

“Now, Flash, what have you been up to since you left Fillydelphia for college?” Joyful asked as the group tucked in. “And how did you meet this lovely mare?”

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story…” Flash chuckled, looking over at Twilight. Her eyes widened and she shook her head urgently, silently pleading with him not to speak another word. He grinned at her before continuing.

“See, I met her while I was working as a Crystal House Guard, protecting Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor. I was standing sentry in the crystal hallway during an annual summit between the Princesses. Suddenly, Twilight walks in, lost in thought. I turn to face her…” He snickered. “And she bumps into me. I fall over into the guy next to me, and the entire line falls over like a bunch of dominoes!”

Flash, Spike and Joyful all laughed heartily at the story. Twilight buried her reddening face into her hooves. Even Phillip chuckled quietly over his cob.

The group chatted amicably as they ate their dinner. When the food had been cleared away, Joyful bid them goodnight and they trotted back up the stairs to the guest room.

Twilight yawned as she pulled the covers of the bed back. “Good night, everypony,” she said as she crawled into bed. Spike pulled himself up onto the mattress and snuggled up against her.

“G’night,” Phillip muttered. Doffing his trilby and vest, Phillip tossed his garments into the corner and curled up on the couch, closing his eyes.

Flash carefully took off his armor, sighing with relief as the weight was removed from his body, and quietly placed it on the floor so as not to disturb the others, although he kept his sword well within reach. He placed himself at attention next to the door, switching off the lights with a wing. The room fell silent, save for the slow, steady breathing of his sleeping companions, and he sighed into the darkness. It was going to be a long night.

A beam of sunlight shone through the parted curtains, the warm light rousing Twilight from her sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes and pushed the covers back from her chin, rubbing her eyes as she woke. Spike was still cuddled up against her, snoring softly as he slept; the quiet, familiar sound brought a smile to Twilight’s lips.

Sitting up, she looked towards the head of the room and smiled even wider at the sight. Flash was sitting next to the door, fast asleep, his head resting on Phillip’s shoulder. Phillip looked up at Twilight, tiredly blinking at her; the faintly confused expression on his face showed that he knew he should be embarrassed, but wasn’t.

“He dozed off right when I was thinking about force-feeding him some sleeping pills,” Phillip said quietly.

Twilight chuckled and sat up fully, pushing the covers off her. “All right, boys, time to get up!” she declared, noting the clock on the bedside table reading 7:15.

Spike moaned and clung to Twilight. “Five more minutes,” he whined.

“C’mon, Spike,” Twilight chuckled, nuzzling his head to get him moving.

Flash blinked and woke up with a yawn. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, no worries,” Phillip said, grabbing his vest. “Let’s get some breakfast and get ready.”

Joyful Sound pushed her door open and entered the hallway at the same time as they, smiling as she ran a hoof through her mane. “Good morning, everypony. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you, Pastor,” Twilight greeted her.

“Let’s get you some breakfast,” Joyful said, descending the stairs. “How does Prench toast sound?”

“Awesome!” Spike cheered, hurrying down after her.

One round of Prench toast and four brushed sets of teeth later, the group waved goodbye to Joyful and started on their journey to White Rose’s former home. Spike rode atop Twilight’s shoulder as Flash escorted them down the streets, past sleepy pedestrians on their way to work, loiterers hanging around their favorite corners, and beggars setting up their signs and collection tins.

As they approached an intersection, Flash suddenly paused, flinging out a hoof to stop the others. Peeking around the corner, he spotted a group of five ponies standing in the midst of the narrow street, smoking cigarettes and shouting expletives and taunts at anypony who passed by. All five of them were wearing coats, and each of them had a tattoo or mark somewhere on their body of a crude dark blue snake imposed on a six-pointed star.

“Those must be the Nightmare Snakes,” Phillip muttered, leaning around the corner.

“Let’s keep our distance,” Flash suggested, crossing the street. The group passed the corner quickly but confidently, refusing to look directly at the thugs. Twilight used a spell to plug Spike’s ears to spare him from being assaulted by their language.

“Hey, Flash?” Spike asked as they passed the corner. “Why do ponies join gangs like that anyway?”

“Some do it because they see it as a way to get money,” Flash explained. “Some do it just to feel like they belong somewhere. Others join the gangs for protection from victimization.”

“But there’s better ways to do all that, right?” Spike asked in confusion.

“Not to them, there’s not,” Flash stated, turning a corner. He stopped, looking up at the house in front of them. The house—37 Rosedust Street—was a small white two-story condo, having squeezed its way in between two other houses. Bright yellow “CRIME SCENE: DO NOT ENTER” tape was stretched across the doorframe. The door was still hanging onto the frame by a single hinge.

“We’re here,” Flash said softly. He proceeded up to the door and entered, ducking beneath the tape. The others followed him inside.

The door led directly into the sitting room. White Rose’s body had been long removed, but other than that, the scene was left the same as it was in the crime scene photographs: the same glass of milk on the table, the same lamp lighting the room, the same framed pictures on the mantelpiece.

Flash sighed deeply, walking over to the mantelpiece. His eyes settled on a photograph of a young orange pegasus colt with a shock of lightning blue hair adorned in a set of golden armor made of cardboard, standing proudly as he grinned up at the camera. A small smile crossed Flash’s face. “I didn’t expect to come back here like this.”

“Nopony does,” Phillip responded, looking at the chair where White Rose’s body had lain. The white fabric was forever stained with her blood.

Twilight used her magic to levitate out the case files, organizing them in midair. “All right. The facts state that at 8:34 PM, the local precinct received a call that a neighbor had heard gunshots coming from this address. Two Guards arrived within two minutes and reported that the house was empty, save for the victim, who was…” She glanced up at Flash. “...lying dead on the couch there. The shooter was already long gone. A Guard performed a neighborhood canvas, but produced no witnesses. Nothing appears to have been taken, eliminating robbery as a motive.” She scanned the reports. “Flash, I’m sorry. There’s not much here in terms of evidence.”

Flash slowly turned in a circle, scanning the room. Breathing deep, he expelled his emotional turmoils, forcing himself to detach his mind and heart from the scene. This was just another crime scene, just another murder. Just another victim.

Look for the piece that doesn’t fit. Phillip’s voice whispered in the back of his head. Flash turned to face his mentor, who gazed evenly back at him. He made a small gesture with his head, as if to tell him, Go ahead. This is your scene. Nodding in return, Flash returned to his examination.

“They didn’t say they dusted for hoofprints,” Twilight interjected. “Maybe we should try that! I read a fascinating article in a Scientific Equestrian issue about hoofprint identification that—”

“Wait,” Flash suddenly said, holding up his hoof to silence her. He was looking not at the sitting room, but at the entryway to the kitchen. Inside, he could see the polished marble countertop, the maplewood cabinets and the humming refrigerator tucked into the corner. He strode over to the sink, peering into the neat stacks of dinner dishes and cutlery.

“What is it?” Twilight asked as the others followed him inside.

“Aha!” Flash cried in delight, reaching into the sink and extracting two items: a pair of juiced lemon, their pulp reduced to strings.

“What’s so special about these?” Spike asked. “She could have just used those to make lemon juice.”

“She did,” Flash said, hurrying into the dining room. “But not to drink it! Mom hated lemons!”

He entered the dining room, a small arched room in the back of the house lit by a shaded lamp set in the back windows that offered a view of the dusty street behind the house. Ignoring the old, creaking table and chairs and the decorative plates on the wall, Flash went straight for an old hutch leaning against the wall. Pulling open the drawers one by one, he began to examine the contents therein: old folders, envelopes, stamps, and notepads.

“What are you looking for?” Twilight asked, watching him in growing confusion.

“This!” Flash said, pulling out an envelope. He held it up so that the others could see the address: “Flash Sentry, Castle of Friendship, Ponyville.” Tearing the envelope open with his teeth, he pulled out the sheet within.

To the confusion of the spectators, the letter was blank. But Flash did not seem perturbed by this in the slightest; on the contrary, he grinned excitedly and pointed out a small black dot on the bottom right corner of the sheet.

“It’s something from when Snake and I were kids,” he explained, holding up the letter to the lamplight.

“Of course,” Phillip breathed, realization dawning on his and Twilight’s faces.

Slowly, the hidden writing appeared on the letter; the heat from the lamp revealing the dried lemon juice. Holding the letter up to his gaze, Flash read the message out loud:

“Dear Flash,

"I hope that this message finds you, and finds you well. I fear that I am not long in this world, not because of my age, but because I have made too many enemies recently.

"But I am not afraid. You taught me much in the time that we spent together, but the most important lesson you taught me was the value of bravery. Which is why I have learned that if anything is to change in this town, it is only through the bravery of myself and other ponies.

"Over the past few months, I’ve been doing my best to get close to the citizens of this town, especially the ones that were closely affected by gang activity, and using the information they gave me to help the City Guard combat the gangs. Last week, I managed to make contact with a stallion named Anchor Point. He worked as a liaison between the gangs and the corrupt Guards, trading money and messages, negotiating deals. But he’s gotten tired and he wants out. He’s agreed to tell everything he knows, but he wants protection.

"That’s what this letter is about; asking you for help. The corruption in the City Guard goes much deeper than we previously thought. We’re not sure who we can trust and who we can’t. But I know I can trust you. Please come to Fillydelphia as soon as possible. We can meet with Anchor Point and figure out how to help him.

"You grew up loving this city and its ponies, and you taught me to love them as well. Which is why I know that between the two of us, we can finally make a change here.

"Hoping to see you very soon,

"With love,

"Your mother.

"PS I apologize for using invisible ink, but this message is just too important to be intercepted. I got the idea from watching you and Snake playing detective as colts, passing secret messages back and forth!”

Flash stared at his mother’s final message for a few moments of silence, a proud but sad smile hovering on his face.

“Oh, Flash,” Twilight spoke softly, a similar expression on her face.

“This makes sense,” Phillip nodded. “This is why your mother was killed, because she’d gotten too close. We have to find this Anchor Point before the gangs or the City Guard does.”

“Right!” Twilight declared. “We’ll be able to find his address at the post office!”

“I’ll lead us there,” Flash stated. He tucked the letter, and with it, his mother’s love, into his saddlebag and lead them out the door and back onto the street. Almost as soon as they exited the house, they were assaulted by a fierce icy wind that lashed at their bones as if trying to tear their skin away. Spike shivered and hugged himself to Twilight’s back for warmth.

“Must be a rogue windstorm!” Twilight shouted, using her magic to cast a shield of warmth around them.

“Yeah!” Flash agreed. “It’s too heavy to fly, but the post office isn’t far!” They headed north up the street; although Twilight’s spell protected them from the chill, they gale pushed against them with every step and made their journey a struggle.

Phillip felt the wind trying to tug his hat from his head and plucked it into his vest. Suddenly, he felt a familiar prickling on the back of his neck and stiffened, in spite of the warming spell. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted furtive movement in an alley next to him. Looking up, he noticed figures on the rooftops of the apartment complexes and stores surrounding them.

“Flash,” he muttered, his voice carrying over the wind.

“I see them,” Flash replied quietly, looking around.

“You and Twilight and Spike get out of here,” Phillip ordered.

“We’re not leaving you,” Flash countered.

Before their argument could go any further, a large motorized carriage pulled out from an intersection, blocking their path. Three ponies dismounted from the vehicle. Each of them had a tattoo of a snake with a six-pointed star. The friends turned, but more thugs emerged from the alleyways and from the rooftops. Each of them was armed: long blades, rattling lengths of chain, bats with sharp nails driven into the wood. They surrounded the four friends.

One of the Snakes, a large, meaty pegasus with greasy blonde hair and a pearl coat sneered at them, revealing two missing teeth. “Scream if you want. In this town, nopony listens.”

Author's Note

Surprise! It's a cliffhanger!

Okay, obviously, the goons are going to get their butts handed to them, but don't tell anyone.

Part 4: Ruins

The four friends stood side by side, examining their attackers. They were outnumbered, at least four to one. Each of their attackers was armed and ready for blood.

“Think we should give them a hooficap?” Flash muttered.

Phillip cracked his neck. “Nah.” With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his boomerang out; the weapon struck the meaty pegasus in the forehead, ricocheted off to disarm a unicorn with a knife, and flew back to Phillip’s hoof as he struck down a burly blue earth pony. The other Snakes charged forward, but were sent flying back by a wave of purple magic that knocked them all to the ground. Twilight followed up with several spells and hexes that stunned or immobilized anypony they hit.

Flash whirled into combat, his limbs becoming blades that struck down anypony that dared come close. Two pegasi Snakes closed in, both of them swinging a bat at his head. Ducking to the side, he trapped the foreleg of the attacker on his left, elbowed him in the face, and yanked the bat from his grip. His partner swung at him again. Flash parried the attack with his newly acquired weapon and struck him across the jaw, knocking him down.

The first pony that he’d disarmed kicked him in the side, causing him to stumble. Flash blocked the next attack, used his bat to shove the attacker back, and knocked him down with a strike to the knee before finishing him with a roundhouse kick to the jaw.

“Get the Princess!” a Snake spat right before Flash kicked him in the teeth. One of the unicorns turned to Twilight, who was firing stunning spells at every thug she could reach. Charging up his horn with an aura of bright blue magic, he grinned as he prepared to hurl a deadly hex at Twilight.

But Spike, who was still astride Twilight’s shoulders, spotted the incoming danger. Reacting instantly, he took a deep breath and exhaled powerfully, sending a jet of emerald flame at the unicorn. The would-be attacker yelped in fright and ducked to avoid the flames. Phillip kicked him in the jaw to knock him out.

“Thanks, Spike,” Twilight nodded, immobilizing another pony who was trying to close in on her. Spike grinned proudly.

Phillip ducked beneath a knife slash at his head and countered with a headbutt to his assaulter’s chest, simultaneously kicking the thug who had just punched him from behind in the ribs. Finishing the knife wielder with a pair of baton strikes, he turned to face another attacker when he heard a distinctive click behind him. He ducked just in time: a bullet streaked past inches over his head. Whirling around as he dived into a tuck and roll, he spotted a black unicorn with a revolver, taking aim at his back.

A moment later, a purple field of magic surrounded the weapon and yanked it from the goon’s grip. At the same time, Flash flew in and punched the gunpony across the jaw, knocking him down.

Immediately, the gunpony charged forward and tackled Flash to the ground. Growling animalistically, the unicorn bit Flash on the cheek, drawing blood and causing Flash to cry out in pain.

In a blur of movement, Phillip rushed forward and slammed into the thug, knocking him down. Drawing his baton back, he repeatedly brought his weapon down onto the pony’s face, smashing past his attempts at defense and sending dark blood flying with every sweep.

“You! Don’t! Touch! Them!” Phillip snarled in a voice like thunder, emphasizing every word with a blow.

“Enough!” Twilight shouted, grabbing his arm with her magic and stopping his blows. Phillip glared up at her, panting heavily; she glared back at him, maintaining her grip on his arm. Slowly, he relaxed and got up off the unicorn, who lay on the asphalt, groaning feebly as blood trickled from the wound in his head.

All of the Snakes had been defeated; the ones that were still conscious and able to move were retreating as quickly as they could with their tails in between their legs.

“Yeah! Take that you, you...curs!” Spike taunted, the bravado in his voice shielding the fact that he was trembling as he clung to Twilight’s back.

“Run back to your bosses! Tell them to send something bigger next time!” Flash shouted fiercely after them as blood ran down his cheek.

“Let me take a look at that,” Twilight said tenderly. She and Spike were unhurt, as none of the Snakes had managed to get anywhere near them, but Phillip and Flash both had received a few minor bruises and cuts in the fight. Twilight set to work cleaning and dressing her friends injuries with her magic as she cast immobilization spells over the Snakes.

“The City Guard will be on their way soon,” Flash stated, panting and wiping sweat from his brow. “C’mon, we’re wasting time.”

Leaving the immobilized and wounded thugs behind, the group continued down the street to the post office. As Phillip followed behind his friends, he pulled his baton out and examined it. The dark red blood clung to the weapon, slick beneath his touch. The rage he felt earlier had slowly curdled into an unpleasant bitterness in the pit of his stomach.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping the blood off on his vest.

“What?” Flash asked, turning around.

“I’m sorry,” Phillip repeated. “I…” He couldn’t bring the words out, couldn’t try to excuse his anger.

“I understand,” Flash stated seriously. “But that’s not how we do things.”

“I know,” Phillip grunted. “It’s just...it’s difficult to change.”

“I get that,” Twilight stated gently. “But, Phillip, you should tone it down a bit. There’s no need to beat ponies like that.”

“You’re right,” Phillip nodded. “I...I want to protect you, and…”

“You can,” Flash said, gripping Phil’s shoulder. “But you can do that without brutalizing ponies. You’ve got to do better than that now. Okay?”

Phillip hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Good,” Flash said. “Now, come on. We’re almost there.”

They finally reached the post office, a single-story brick building with the Equestrian flag hanging over it. Entering the lobby, the group made their way over to one of the many desks lining the walls. Leaping off of Twilight’s shoulders, Spike climbed onto the desk and grabbed the large phone and address book and began rifling through it quickly.

“P...P...Point…” he muttered, running a claw down the yellow pages. “Aha!” he declared, his claw resting on a line. “‘Anchor Point, 223 Wingsong Way!”

“Wind's died down enough for us to fly,” Flash observed. “I know the way, it’s not far.”

They exited quickly. Twilight lifted Spike back up onto her back and Flash grabbed Phillip underneath his shoulders, lifting up into the smoggy city sky. They flew eastwards, dusty streets and brick houses moving beneath them. Before long, they were passing over parks and forests, following a well-paved road.

“Down there,” Flash nodded towards a driveway beneath them. He and Twilight swooped down to land in front of the driveway.

“I wonder if he’ll be willing to talk to us,” Twilight pondered as they started to walk down the pathway.

“He’ll have to if he—” Flash’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a motorized carriage with spinning red and blue lights parked in front of the quaint brown one-story cottage that sat at the end of the driveway. “Oh, no.”

Two City Guards exited through the door, muttering to one another. One of them looked up and lifted his visor, revealing Snake Eyes’ bewildered face. “How did you guys get here so fast?”

“What’re you talking about?” Flash asked.

“What happened to you guys?” Snake asked, examining their bandaged wounds.

“The Snakes,” Phillip replied. “What happened here?”

“Anchor Point is dead,” stated the other Guard, a pale blue pegasus corporal. “He was murdered.”

“No!” Twilight cried out in disbelief. “What happened?”

“We were sent down here to check on the occupant, because nopony had seen him for several days,” the corporal stated. “My partner and I were dispatched to respond, but when we arrived, we found Anchor Point dead in his office. There was no sign of any intruders in the building. We were just about to radio this in and wait for other responders.”

The four friends looked at one another. “What do we do now?” Spike whispered urgently.

“There’s still a chance he left behind something we can use,” Phillip said. “Damn...if we'd just figured it out sooner."

“Nothing we can do about that now,” Flash sighed. “We may as well take a look.” He turned to Snake Eyes. “Is it all right if we take a look around?”

“Hold on a second,” the corporal stated. “You can’t just—”

“It’s all right, Blue Jay,” Snake Eyes reassured him. “They’re with me.” He gestured them inside. “You can look around, but try not to touch anything. The CSI team should be here soon.”

“Okay,” Flash nodded, entering the cottage. Phillip, Twilight, Spike and Snake Eyes followed; Corporal Blue Jay remained outside.

They passed through a short hallway with a coat and hat rack leaning against the white walls and a shaggy carpeting on the floor, and entered a living room. A pair of green sofas sat facing each other, a low coffee table sitting in between them. Paintings of landscapes and flowers hung on the walls, designed to soothe but not to be contemplated. A coffee machine and a small refrigerator sat humming on a table on the other end of the room, next to a water dispenser.

“The office is over here,” Snake Eyes said, pointing down another hallway. They trotted down until they reached a room on their left, the broken door hanging open. Inside was a large office. Two velvet chairs sat in front of an oak desk and a larger velvet chair, which was covered in stacks of paper, envelopes, pencils and two telephones. Three filing cabinets were stacked against one wall; opposite was a long window that opened into the well-trimmed lawn and bushes out back.

However, the picturesque scene was ruined by the red and pink goop spread across the desk and back wall, spread out in a conical stain from the center of the room and out over the wall. At the sight of the blood and brain matter painted across the room, Spike gulped loudly, clapping a claw over his mouth as his face turned green. “Twilight, maybe you and Spike should wait outside,” Flash said quietly. Twilight nodded, her face pale, and made a quick exit with Spike.

“Point of entry and the body are out back,” Snake Eyes stated. He led Flash and Phillip down the hallway to the door in the back of the house, following a red drag trail of blood. The oaken door had been repeatedly battered and hung open, the lock smashed to splinters.

Out in the backyard, laying in the midst of the trimmed grass, was a corpse, the skin burnt to a black crisp. The body’s head from above the neck was missing—having been spread across the office wall—and no hair remained to help identify the victim. An empty bottle of cider, a burnt match, and a small, discarded fire extinguisher lay around the body.

“Are we sure that this is Anchor Point?” Phillip asked, bending over the burnt husk.

“Well, that’s the rub, isn’t it?” Snake Eyes sighed. “Identification is going to be tricky without his head or his cutie marks. Look,” he pointed at the victim’s flank. Even beneath the blackened charring, the observers noted that the cutie mark had been mutilated, reduced to a mass of red scratch marks.

“We should at least try to find a picture of Anchor Point for comparison,” Flash said.

“Let’s take a look,” Snake Eyes agreed. He and Flash went back inside, leaving Phillip to examine the corpse for clues.

“So what’s so special about this guy?” Snake asked as they began to search for the cottage’s bedroom.

“I was about to ask you that,” Flash stated.

Snake shrugged. “He’s a small-time broker. Kind of a recluse; not many ponies even know what he looks like. Lived alone up here, had all his groceries delivered, worked through the phone or mail. Now why are you so interested in him?”

Flash started to answer, but his voice got stuck in his throat. “He’s a suspect in mom’s murder,” he stated.

Snake Eyes turned to him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You know, we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I can still tell when you’re lying to me,” he said.

Flash looked at his friend, examining his accusing face. Snake Eyes had been his constant companion throughout his foalhood, from kindergarten all the way up to graduation. They’d played together, laughed together, cried together, dreamed together. They had trusted each other completely.

And now, because of the armor that hid his body, because of his position in the Guard of the city that they had both grown up in, Flash had a reason to doubt his best friend’s honesty.

“That’s the least you need to know, Snake,” Flash said softly, meeting his friend’s gaze steadily.

“It’s because I’m a City Guard, isn’t it?” Snake Eyes snapped.

“No, Snake…” Flash started to say.

“Flash, we’ve known each other since we could barely walk!” Snake shouted, hurt and anger tumbling together in his eyes. “Didn’t we promise we could always count on each other, no matter what? But now, just because I’m wearing this armor, because I thought I could make a difference in this city, you can’t trust me?”

“I do, I do trust you, Snake,” Flash sighed, raising a hoof. He glanced up at the hallway, then leaned in close. “This guy worked with my mom. He may have had information about the connection between the gangs and the City Guard.”

Snake’s eyes widened. “Damn, really? That must be why they killed him and your mom!”

“Probably,” Flash nodded.

Snake exhaled. “We’d better find the guys who killed him, and fast.”

“Right.” Flash continued down the hallway until they reached a bedroom. A king-size bed sat in the center of the carpeted floor, the pale blue sheets rumpled and tossed to one side. An oak dresser sat to one side of the bed. A framed picture of two ponies sat on top of the dresser, along with a scattering of ties, notepads and pencils, and several pill bottles.

Flash examined the bottles labels. “Fluoxetine, venlafaxine, phenelzine...antidepressants.” He looked at the scattering of multicolored pills scattered like candies on the dresser. “Looks like he was taking them all in the same hoofful.”

Snake picked up the photograph. The image showed two ponies standing in front of the cottage that they currently stood in, smiling broadly at the camera. One was an earth pony with a trim blue coat, a silvery-blue mane and tail, and twinkling aqua blue eyes. His cutie mark was a pen tied to an anchor. The mare standing with her side pressed up against him was a pale pink unicorn with sunshine yellow hair and bright green eyes. Her cutie mark was a pie with a smiling face carved into the crust.

“This must be Anchor Point,” Snake commented, picking up the photograph. “The mare’s probably his wife.”

“Former wife,” Flash corrected, indicating the bed. “Only one side of the bed has been used.”

Snake nodded. “Probably explains the antidepressants.”

They took the photograph back outside to Phillip, who was bending over the burnt corpse, closely examining it with his loupe glasses. Flash showed the picture to him and Phil peered at it for several seconds of silence.

“You know what I think isn’t right here?” Phil said quietly.

“Everything,” Flash replied.

“What do you mean?” Snake asked.

“Think about it,” Flash said, nodding to the body. “Our killer comes in, kicks the office door open, and kills Anchor with a shotgun. He had to have known that the Guard would be on their way; but instead of leaving, he drags the body out here, mutilates the cutie marks, and sets it on fire. Why?”

“To send a message, maybe,” Snake suggested.

“And yet, with White Rose’s murder, it was quick,” Phillip pointed out. “No, this isn’t right.” Taking the photograph again, he bent back over the body, comparing the image to the reality. Unfortunately, it was evident just from looking that the body was burnt almost beyond recognition.

“Not looking good, chief,” Snake Eyes shook his head. “Maybe the coroner will be able to get something out of it.”

As if on cue, there was the sound of approaching sirens from the front of the cottage. Flash and Phillip rose and walked back into the cottage.

“You’ll let us know if you find anything?” Flash asked Snake.

“Of course I will,” Snake nodded, shaking Flash’s hoof. “Be careful out there.”

“We will,” Flash nodded, clapping his friend on the shoulder. He followed Phillip back down the hallway. As they passed the office, Flash paused and looked inside, examining their victim’s blood and brain matter spread across the walls and desk as if he could find a clue written in the red and pink.

Suddenly, he paused, his eyes focusing on the desk. “Phil,” he muttered, grabbing his mentor’s shoulder and pointing. Phil looked in the office, following Flash’s gaze. After a moment, he nodded. “I see it.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Flash asked.

Phillip nodded again. “We need to do some research.”

“Well, we know just the pony,” Flash grinned as they exited. Twilight and Spike were waiting outside, sitting on the steps of the cottage; Spike was still looking miserable, staring down at his hands clasped around his knees as he pondered the cruelty of ponies. Blue Jay was briefing the newly-arrived City Guard Investigators and medical examiners.

“Guys, we’ve got work to do,” Flash quietly announced to them as they approached.

“What work?” Twilight asked, getting to her hooves. “Isn’t Anchor Point dead?”

“No, he’s not,” Phillip said, low enough so that the approaching Guards couldn’t hear him. “Which is why we’ve got to find him before anypony else does. We have some research to do.”

Quickly concealing her shock, Twilight lifted Spike up onto her back and took to the sky. Grabbing Phillip underneath his shoulders, Flash took off after them.

“I know just the place to start,” Twilight called as they flew back towards the city center. “Which way to the city library?”

Flash half smiled and rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

Author's Note

Because when in doubt—or when your only lead is dead and you're left with no clues—reorganizing, going to the library, and doing some research is the best solution.

But now the race is on! Where in the World is Anchor Point?

Part 5: The Best Laid Plans...

The Fillydelphia City Library was a two-story brick building sitting on an island of a city block near a busy intersection. Somepony had taken the time to try to make the building somewhat attractive to the eye; the first floor featured a reading room with floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed the stacks of books waiting to be plucked from the shelves and read, there were rows of surprisingly healthy flowers lining the building perimeter, and an artful abstract statue made of trash can lids, weather vanes, pipes and other junk had been placed in the front yard, with a sign declaring that this was the work of local colt Spring Smith, the winner of a special art contest.

Up on the second floor, Twilight levitated several newspapers, books and sheets of paper off the shelves and trotted over to a table, placing the books down on top of it.

“Wow, Twilight, do you really need all of those?” Spike asked, staring at the stack incredulously. The pile of papers was almost as tall as he was.

“I know we’re supposed to be looking for information on Anchor Point and his wife,” Twilight stated, settling down into a chair and pulling the first book off the pile, “but I’d like to take this opportunity to learn more about the history of this city, and why crime is such a big problem here. It might be useful later.” She opened up the book, which was a hoofwritten records of city marriages, and began to flip through it, running her hoof down the columns of names and dates.

Spike frowned at the pile of books before turning to Phillip and Flash, who had both plucked books and settled down to examine them. “So, how can you be sure that that’s not Anchor Point?”

“The telephone on the desk,” Phillip replied. “Everything on the desk was covered in blood except that: blood had been wiped off the handle. Somepony touched it to make a call after the gunshot. And then there was a piece of the dead pony’s head stuck behind some grey matter. It was pale green; doesn’t match Anchor’s coat color.”

“Here’s my theory as to what happened,” Flash stated. “The evidence indicates that somepony broke into Point’s house, probably a gang member out to kill him. Anchor surprised him in the office and killed him. Knowing that his life was in danger, he decided to try to fake his own death: he dragged the body outside, cut off the cutie marks and set it on fire, then called a friend and bailed.” He looked back down at the papers. “Now all that’s left for us to try to find him before the City Guards or the gangs do.”

“He can’t have that many ‘friends’ left. I doubt he would have sought refuge with the gangs or the Guard,” Phillip mumbled, stroking his chin with a hoof.

“Right. Which is why we’re looking for close friends, coworkers and family first,” Flash agreed.

“I found her,” Twilight declared, her hoof pointing at a line in the record book. “Anchor Point married Lemon Crust five years ago.”

“Lemon Crust…” Flash murmured, thinking. “I know I’ve heard that name…” He plucked out a large binder and opened it up to reveal a collection of Fillydelphia Herald articles from the past several years. He flipped through it quickly, scanning all of the food and entertainment sections. “Ah, here she is.” He pointed at a recipe column in the paper entitled “Lemon Crust’s Weekly Recipes.”

“Mom took recipes from her all the time,” Flash said with a small smile. “In fact, I think she wrote a book.”

“We need to find her as soon as possible,” Twilight declared. “She may know where Anchor is, or, at least, somepony who he might contact.”

“There’s a phone number here,” Spike said, pointing to a contact number inviting readers to deliver any questions or compliments to be passed onto the local chef.

“I’ll call them,” Flash said, rising and walking over to a public pay phone booth in the corner. Dropping a bit into the slot, he lifted the hoofset and dialed the number in. The phone picked up after three rings.

“Hello, Fillydelphia Herald?” he asked. “Yes, I’d like to speak to Lemon Crust. I had a few questions for…” He paused, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. Slowly, his face fell. “Oh. Oh, I see. Thank you.” He hung up and turned back to the group.

“Lemon Crust died of breast cancer a few months ago,” he stated.

“Oh, no,” Twilight groaned, lowering her face onto her hooves. “Now what do we do?”

“We keep digging,” Phillip said. “There has to be somepony, somewhere, that Anchor would’ve called.” He paused for a moment, then grabbed the binder of newspaper and started flipping through it. “Where are the obituaries?”

The four of them started digging through the pile of articles, searching through the two-year-old articles. Before long, they had a sizable pile of discarded obituaries laying on the table that only grew larger as the minutes grew longer.

“I didn’t think it’d be this hard!” Spike groaned after twenty minutes of searching.

“Big city. Lot of ponies die every day,” Phillip pointed out calmly. “Wait, I found it.” He pulled out a single article dated three months ago and showed it to everypony. The photograph that accompanied the article was a closeup of the smiling pink unicorn with long yellow hair and emerald eyes.

“‘We regret to inform readers that Lemon Crust passed away yesterday of breast cancer,’” Twilight read out loud. “‘She had been fighting the cancer for over two years...noted for her donations to charity...leaves behind her husband, sales broker Anchor Point, and her brother, Plum Dessert!”

“That’s it!” Flash cried. “We need to find Plum and question him.”

Spike dashed over to the phone and yanked out the phonebook, rapidly flipping through it. “Found the number!” he declared after a minute of searching, his claw hovering over a line. “Huh. It’s just the phone number, no address.”

Flash walked over to the phone again and inserted another bit, dialing the number in. The phone rang for several seconds, during which Flash’s frown grew deeper. Finally, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Answering machine,” he said to the others. “‘Hello, Mr. Dessert? This is Sergeant Flash Sentry. I’d like to speak to you regarding the death of your brother-in-law, Anchor Point. If you could please call me back as soon as possible, it would be greatly appreciated. I’m staying at the Universalist Temple, the number there is 516-4673. Thank you for your time.” He hung up and sighed. “Well, that’s that. All we can do is wait for him to contact us for now.”

“Good. Let’s go back to the Temple. I can start doing some more research there,” Twilight declared, gathering up her books in her magic.

Twenty minutes later, the group was walking up to the Universalist Temple, having been guided to the haven by Flash. Twilight hadn’t spoken a word during the trip; her nose was buried deep in a book that she was levitating in front of her face.

“We’re back now, Twilight,” Spike said, patting her on the shoulder to try to get her attention.

“Hmm? Right,” Twilight muttered, not even looking up. “You know, if more City Guard divisions would base their work in concrete research and studies, they’d be much more efficient.”

“I’m sure they would, Twilight,” Flash stated, pushing the doors open and entering the sanctuary of the temple. Joyful Sound was serenely dusting the pews. Alerted by the sound of their hoofsteps, the Pastor looked up, her face creasing into concern when she Phillip and Flash’s injuries. “Gang fight, dears?”

“Don’t worry, Pastor, the other guys got worse,” Flash said.

“I’d believe it,” Joyful said in a tone that clearly stated her disapproval as she examined Flash’s cheek wound. “You should probably replace those bandages, it looks like it’s bleeding again.”

“Good idea, thanks,” Flash said, heading up the stairs to the guest room. The others followed him up, Twilight still nose deep in her book.

“Sure hope this doesn’t become another scar,” Flash muttered, touching the wound as he rounded the landing.

“I think they make you look cool,” Spike commented. “Kind of like a comic book character!”

Flash chuckled once. “Thanks, Spike, I—” He froze on the hallway, causing Twilight to bump into him.

“What is it?” she asked in annoyance, looking up. She quickly saw what the problem was: the door to the guest room was wide open, even though they had locked it when they’d left that morning. Dashing forward, the four examined their room.

The scene was not unlike a picture puzzle: two rooms, both seemingly the same, but with a number of differences between them. In this case, the sole difference between the room as it was and the room as they had left it was a note pinned to the wall with a black knife. Angry black block lettering was splashed across the page. Rushing forward, Flash tore the note off and read it out loud.

“Go back to Ponyville tonight. If you keep sticking your muzzles into other ponies’ business, it won’t just be you that suffers.”

The note crinkled loudly as Flash’s grip on it subconsciously tightened. “Easy, Flash,” Phillip stated, carefully taking the note from him. “No point getting angry.”

“We need to find someplace else to stay,” Flash stated. “If they know where we’re staying, they could come back at any time.”

“I’m not scared of some punks!” Spike declared, puffing his chest out to make himself appear larger.

“I know you’re not,” Flash said. “But there are risks we can’t take.”

“We’re no safer here than we are anywhere else,” Phillip pointed out, already studying the note with his loupe glasses.

“Phillip’s right,” Twilight stated, subconsciously drawing Spike closer to her with a wing. “But we should tell Pastor Joyful.”

Flash rushed to the landing. “Pastor!” he called down. “Did anypony else come upstairs today?”

Joyful climbed partway up the stairs. “No, it’s been quiet all day. Why?”

Flash glanced up at the others before answering. “Somepony broke into our room while we were gone.”

“Oh, dear,” Joyful said, her eyes widening in shock. “Did they take anything?”

Twilight quickly checked their supplies. “No, nothing. They just left the note.”

“Pastor, we shouldn’t stay here,” Flash said. “We’re putting you in danger by—”

“Hush, child,” Joyful cut him off with a kind smile. “Your concern for me is appreciated, but I am not afraid. You shall stay here for the time being, and I shall take care of you. Now, let’s get you some tea.” She calmly descended back down the stairs.

“But, Pastor—” Flash started to call after her, before sighing and rolling his eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he muttered to himself.

Phillip set the note down onto the desk, continuing to study it. Twilight gently pried the knife off the wall and floated it before her eyes. “Hmm,” she mused, lifting up the book that she had been reading and flipping to another page. She studied the page carefully for a minute, then closed her eyes in concentration and began channeling magic to her horn.

“What’re you doing?” Flash asked.

“There’s a spell in here that reacts with hoofprints to make them visible,” Twilight replied, her magic swirling around her horn. The lavender streaks danced around the floating knife before setting on the handle, attracted to the invisible streaks of sweat and grease left behind by the wielder. A glowing partial hoofprint appeared on the handle.

“Wow!” Spike said in obvious amazement. Twilight managed a proud smile.

Phillip carefully took the knife, closely studying the imprint. “Can this spell work on any surface?” he asked.

“In theory, yes,” Twilight nodded, “although I may need to adjust the spell slightly depending on material, time since imprint, exposure to the elements—”

“Good,” Phillip interrupted, carefully placing the knife into a plastic baggie that he extracted from his vest.

Twilight took out a first aid kit. “Flash, come here. Let me replace that bandage.” She levitated out a roll of gauze and ripped off a piece, gently peeling off Flash’s dirty bandage and replacing it with the fresh dressing.

“Thank you,” Flash smiled. “Now how about we get some lunch?”

Everypony found this idea agreeable. Several servings of pasta and carrots later, they settled down to wait in the pastor’s office for Plum Dessert’s call. Twilight set herself on the sofa and absorbed herself in her books, while Phillip, Flash and Spike began a game of poker, using Spike’s rock snacks as chips. To the surprise of both stallions, Spike proved to be a surprisingly adept player, and began accumulating a rather large pile of winnings. Pastor Joyful drifted in and out of the room, occasionally pausing to chat with one of them.

Finally, when the sun was just reaching down to kiss the darkening skyline, the telephone sitting on the desk began to ring. Flash picked it up almost instantaneously. “Hello?...Yes, this is Sergeant Sentry...good afternoon, Mister Dessert…” He looked up at the others, the same hope reflected in one another’s eyes. “You can meet us? When?...Yes, I know the address. We can be there in five minutes. Thank you! See you soon!” He hung up, grinning broadly.

“He agreed to meet with us!” he declared.

“Aces,” Phillip said, rising. “C’mon, all of you.”

Twilight marked her place in her book and got up, stretching her limbs. Spike gathered up his winnings.

“Be careful, you four,” Pastor Joyful cautioned them as they exited.

“Don’t worry, Pastor. We’ll be back in time for dinner,” Flash reassured her. They went out the back door. Spike climbed onto Twilight’s back and Flash grabbed Phillip beneath his forelegs, taking to the sky and flying northwards.

Five minutes later, they landed before a four-story brick apartment building sitting on a street corner, slightly separated from the shops and stores that it shared the block with as if desperate for attention, or trying to escape. As they landed, Flash checked around for any sign of threats, but the few pedestrians on the streets paid them little heed.

Standing to the side of the door with the peeling yellow paint, Flash hit the buzzer for Apartment 3B. “Who is it?” a male voice asked through the buzzer, punctuated by static.

“Plum Dessert?” Flash asked. “This is Sergeant Sentry. We’re here to talk with you.”

“Oh, right. Please come up,” the voice responded. With a click, the door unlocked. Phillip carefully pushed the door open and the friends entered the apartment. The thin, shadowy hallway pressed down on them as they entered, the dull whitewashed walls and ceiling seeming to threateningly surround them. Flash gulped nervously, staring up at the claustrophobic surroundings in apprehension.

Noticing this, Twilight took his hoof in hers. “Just one step at a time,” she reassured him. “I’m right here.”

Flash nodded and began climbing up the stairs, every step creaking beneath their weight. Twilight stayed close beside him, even though their shoulders scraped against the walls at every landing. Phillip brought up the rear of the ensemble, ears alert at every noise. They reached the third floor and proceeded down the hallway, passing by several doors. The door to 3E creaked open as they passed; a small blue eye tentatively peeked out, then instantly retreated.

Flash knocked at the door to 3B, being careful to stand to the side. “Mr. Dessert?” he called.

The door creaked open and a dark blue eye peeped out. “Sergeant Sentry? Who else is with you?”

“Mr. Dessert, I’m Twilight Sparkle,” Twilight introduced herself. “These are my friends, Spike and Phillip Finder.”

The eye examined them all carefully, then nodded. The door closed, there was the sound of several locks being withdrawn, and then the door opened wide once more.

“Good evening, all of you,” Plum Dessert greeted them. He was a tall unicorn with a generous girth, milky chocolate brown coat and a wavy purple mane and tail, wearing a white dress shirt and a loose tie. His cutie mark was a slice of plum pie sitting in a tray.

“Let’s go into my office,” he offered, guiding them past the sparsely-decorated living room and into his office. The little room was populated by a simple desk, topped with several papers, notepads covered in scrawls, and an old typewriter. A single framed picture hung on the back wall; Plum, Lemon and Anchor, all standing side by side on a beach and grinning at the camera, their faces backlit by the sun glimmering of the crystal blue water. A few faded cushions were scattered around the floor.

“Sorry about the mess,” Plum apologized, gathering up several cushions in his magic and setting them up for his guests and himself. “I’ve been busy with my work; I’m a food critic.”

“I see,” Twilight said as she and her friends sat down in front of the desk.

“So, I understand you wanted to talk to me about my brother, Anchor?” Plum stated, settling behind the desk.

“Yes, sir,” Flash said. “Sir, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your brother appears to have been killed.”

Plum blinked. “Killed?...I...oh, God.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I know this must be hard,” Flash said. “Can you tell us about Anchor?”

“Yes,” Plum said, looking down at the desk. “I was the one who called the City Guard; he had missed our weekly phone call, and I was getting worried.”

“You were close, then?” Flash asked.

“We always had been,” Plum explained, glancing up at the photograph on the wall. “We met when Lemon started dating him. He was an awkward, shambling mess when they met, but he all but worshipped the ground she walked on, and she adored him as well. I came to love him as a member of my family as well. Then when she died, and he fell into depression…” He sighed deeply. “How did it happen?”

“A home intruder,” Flash stated. “When was the last time you saw him alive?”

“I spoke to him on the phone last Saturday,” Plum answered. “That was the last time I saw or heard from him.”

“Hmm,” Flash murmured. He examined the desk more closely, inspecting each of the objects on it. Along the papers and notepads with their near-illegitimate scrawls and type, there were several pencils and pens, a cheap wind-up clock, the antique but still functional typewriter, and a pair of glasses. He studied the glasses for a moment, then glanced up at Phillip. Phillip barely looked at him, but nodded subtly. He had noticed the same thing.

“Are those your glasses?” Phillip asked, reaching over and plucking up the glasses.

“Er...yes, they’re my reading glasses,” Plum replied in bewilderment.

“I see,” Phillip said, trying the glasses on, only to find that they slid down his nose; even when he held them in place, he couldn’t get the lenses to line up with his eyes. Apparently satisfied, he set the glasses back down. Plum stared at him in bewilderment for a moment.

“Can you account for your movements over the past couple of days?” Flash asked.

“I’ve been in here, working on a critique,” Plum replied. “Why? Are you accusing me of—?”

“It’s standard procedure, sir. Nothing personal,” Flash interrupted him, holding up a hoof reassuringly. “Is there anypony else that Anchor Point would trust?”

“He never was the friendliest pony, and his depression made it even worse; that’s partially why he preferred to do most of his business over the mail or phone. So, no, I don’t know of anypony else; I’d say that I was the only pony living that he was really close to.”

“I see,” Flash nodded. “I think that will be all for now, Mr. Dessert. If you think of anything else, please call me back at the same number.”

“I will do so,” Plum said, standing and shaking hooves with Flash. “I hope that you find whoever killed my brother.”

“We’ll try,” Twilight reassured him as they exited, closing the door behind them as they walked back into the narrow hallway.

“He’s lying to us,” Phillip muttered as soon as the door closed.

“What makes you say that?” Twilight asked.

“The glasses,” Phillip answered, already starting to descend the stairs. “They’re not his. They’re not reading glasses, they’re meant for a pony with myopia. And they wouldn’t fit on Plum’s face; he had a smaller nose than me, and if I couldn’t wear them, then neither could he.

“However, if you had closely observed the photographs of Anchor Point, you would’ve noticed the marks on his abnormally large nose that are left by the nosepieces of a pair of glasses like those.”

“You don’t mean…?” Spike said, his eyes widening as they rounded the landing.

Flash nodded. “Those are Anchor Point’s glasses. He was here, and I’d bet anything that Plum Dessert knows where he’s—” He stopped on the first floor landing, suddenly statue still as he beheld the pony in front of them. “Uh-oh.”

“Princess Twilight, Sergeant Sentry,” said the fully armored City Guard standing in front of them, his face a thin, serious line. “Duke Blueblood has requested your presence. Please come with me.” He turned around and pushed open the door to the apartment, gesturing for them to follow.

“How did you find us?” Flash asked, half reaching for the sword on his holster as he placed himself between Twilight and the Guard. Phillip reached for the boomerang on his back pocket.

“You were seen entering this building. The City Guard has been discreetly following you...for your own safety, of course,” the Guard answered, still holding the door open. “Now, please come with me.”

The friends all glanced at one another, then Flash slowly stood down. “All right,” he nodded. They exited the apartment building to find that a fancy silvery-blue motorized carriage was waiting for them. Another Guard was waiting to open the doors for them, and they entered, placing themselves on the velveteen sheets.

Both of the Guards placed themselves in the front seats, starting up the engine. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes, Your Highness,” the driver told Twilight as they pulled away from the block.

“All right,” Twilight nodded.

“What do you think Blueblood wants to talk to us about?” Spike asked, watching the city pass by through the thick, tinted windows.

“I don’t know, Spike,” Twilight said. “But I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

Author's Note

We're off to see the Duke! The wonderful Duke named Blue!
We hear he is a Duke of a Duke, if ever a Duke there was!

This can't be good at all...

Part 6: Ashes to Ashes

The carriage drove through the streets of Fillydelphia, the sun glistening off the polish. Every other vehicle, both motorized and hoofdrawn, gave the vehicle a wide berth; pedestrians averted their eyes.

“I don’t get it. How does a jerk like Blueblood get to run a city like this?” Spike asked as they passed a large park.

“He was actually elected,” Twilight explained. “I read about it in one of the history books about the city that I was reading. The city of Fillydelphia is run by a democratically elected leader, who is aided by a city council.”

“So where does the Duke title come from?” Spike asked.

“From his family line,” Twilight continued. “It doesn’t mean anything anymore, but noble titles such as that add respect.”

“It’s not supposed to mean anything anymore,” Flash stated, his hoof still lingering on his sword. “But both it, and the money that comes with, count for more than they should.”

“Too right,” Phillip agreed.

The group fell into silence once more, the carriage humming beneath their seats. Before long, they had left behind the slums and were moving into the westernmost districts of the city. This place might be believed to be a different city entirely than the one they had left behind: the brick streets were clean, the expensive-looking shops were pristinely maintained, and the ponies in their immaculate suits and dresses nodded to the carriage as they passed. This was the realm of the rich, separated physically and mentally from the lower classes.

As they passed one corner, Spike noticed a tall metal pole standing on a street corner. Atop the metal pole was a white rectangular box with a dark blue crystal inside. The box slowly swiveled back and forth on its axis, tracking their vehicle as it passed. Beneath the box was a sign that read “FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION.”

“What’s that thing?” he asked.

“A surveillance crystal,” Twilight explained. “It carries a special enhancement that allows another pony to look through the crystal with the aid of a paired crystal.”

“The City Guard’s probably using these to spy on the citizens,” Flash stated.

“And on us,” Phillip added, glaring up at the surveillance crystal as they passed by.

After a few minutes, the carriage turned and parked in front of a large mansion, placed in the center of the district, as if to ensure that the rest of the district revolved around it. High brick walls, painted pale blue, surrounded the building, and an iron gate barred entry. Two City Guards stood sentinel on either side of the gate, which was topped by a pair of surveillance crystals. One of them approached the carriage.

“We are escorting Princess Sparkle to see Duke Blueblood,” the driver told him.

“Send her in, as well as her guard,” the other Guard told them. “Not those two, though,” he added, nodding to Phillip and Spike.

“But—” Spike started to protest.

“It’s all right, Spike,” Twilight reassured him, putting a hoof on his shoulder. “We’ll be right back.” She and Flash exited the carriage and followed two of the Guards through the iron gate, which swung open and shut with a loud clanging. Two of the other City Guards remained standing sentinel on either side.

Spike grumbled to himself, walking down the street and morosely kicking a stray can down the sidewalk. He sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against the wall. “Now what?”

“Now we wait,” Phillip said, sitting down next to him. A pair of unicorn stallions, both of them clothed in Arponi suits, passed by. Both of them turned up their noses, refusing to grant either of them so much as a glance. Phillip glowered at them both.

Glancing around in search of something to use to pass the time, Spike’s eyes settled upon a small pile of cardboard sheets and some discarded charcoal sitting on the ground next to a trash can. He picked up the cardboard sheets and gathered up some of the blackened rocks. Selecting one, he bit off a chunk so that he was left with a crayon-shaped rock. Plopping back down on the sidewalk, he began to sketch the street with the charcoal, thoughtfully chewing on the leftovers as he drew.

“You’re getting good,” Phillip complimented him, watching as the dark replica came to life, conjured by Spike’s drawing skills.

“Thanks,” Spike said, beginning to add details to the storefront across the street from them.

“Whoa,” a voice suddenly called. Looking up, Phillip and Spike saw a young stallion standing a few feet away from them. He was a lanky, well-built pegasus with a muddy yellow coat and a mussy sandy brown mane and tail. His cutie mark was a crossed shovel and hammer, and he was wearing a loose jacket to protect him from the chill wind. His pale blue eyes were focused on Spike with an expression of great curiosity.

“Are you a real dragon?” he asked in a timid voice.

“Yup,” Spike nodded with a smile. “It’s all right, though, I won’t eat you.”

“Cool!” the stallion said, approaching with a smile. “I’ve never seen a dragon up close!”

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Spike grinned, flexing his arm. Phillip chuckled quietly.

“Neat,” the stallion nodded. “I’m Backhoe. I work at a construction company around here.”

“Spike,” Spike introduced himself, holding out a claw to shake. “And this is Phillip Finder.”

Backhoe’s eyes darted to Phillip, a look of nervousness briefly flickering across his face. Phillip stared coolly back. “Nice to meet you. Hey...aren’t you that dragon that works with Princess Twilight?”

“Yup,” Spike nodded proudly.

“Is she here too?” Backhoe asked.

“Yeah, she—”

“Hey, you!” a City Guard’s bark interrupted Spike. Two City Guards stormed up the sidewalk, their visored gazes on Backhoe. Backhoe cringed, his head hanging.

“What’re you doing around here?” one of the Guards, a bulky black earth pony snarled into Backhoe’s ear.

“Nothing, sir…”

“That’s right, nothing,” the other Guard, a broad-shouldered green unicorn sneered. “You’re always up to nothing, right?”

“Leave him alone!” Spike protested.

“Stay out of this,” the earth pony scolded Spike.

Phillip rose, half reaching for his baton. “Are we going to have a problem, mates?” he dared.

The Guards looked at him, and immediately decided that it wasn’t worth it. “You keep your nose clean, Hoe,” the unicorn warned Backhoe as they trotted off. “We’ll be watching you.”

Backhoe glowered at both of the Guards before sighing and sitting down on the sidewalk morosely. “What was that all about?” Spike asked.

“Er…” Backhoe’s eyes flickered up to Phil, staring at him with hesitation for several seconds. He let out a slow sigh. “No point in lying. I...I was recently released from prison.”

“What was it for?” Phillip asked.

“Drug dealing,” Backhoe replied after a moment. Phillip’s eyes narrowed and Backhoe flinched. “Look, I needed the money and there weren’t many other jobs! Back then, I was working a dirt poor job, and my marefriend was pregnant.”

“You shouldn’t have—” Phillip started to say.

“I know!” Backhoe burst out. “I made a stupid decision, and I paid for it. For seven years! My little filly had to grow up without me.” He reached into his jacket and, after fumbling with a pack of Neighport cigarettes, pulled out a small picture that he showed to Spike. The picture displayed a smiling sunny yellow pegasus with wavy blue hair and bright green eyes. She was wearing a pale blue dress that was cut short enough to display her cutie mark: a paintbrush and a smiley face.

“Her name’s Canvas Glow. That was taken at her cuteceñera five months ago, right before I got out,” he stated, a tone of sadness escaping through his smile.

“I’ve been doing better,” he continued as he put the photograph back. “I stayed off the drugs while I was in, and I don’t get into trouble. Finding this job I have was hard—nopony wants to hire an ex-convict like me, you know? But it pays well enough, and they were willing to give me a chance when nopony else was.” He looked up and glared at the retreating Guards, who were standing on the corner some distance away. “But they still won’t leave me alone! I’ve been harassed, called names, shoved, spat at…” Backhoe sighed in disgust. “I did my time, I learned my lesson. I’m trying to stay on the straight and narrow, and I still get treated like dirt.”

“That’s not fair,” Spike observed. “They should be trying to help, not bullying you.”

“Exactly,” Backhoe hissed. He looked around the street, observing the ponies walking past. Not a single one acted like the trio was there.

“I want my kid to live a good life,” he said. “To grow up happy, to have all the things she needs. And I can’t get that if ponies won’t give me a second chance.” He looked up at Spike. “Everypony deserves that, right?”

“If they know they made a mistake and are willing to fix it, sure,” Spike said, turning to Phillip. “Right?”

Phillip looked at Spike, then at Backhoe, his expression unreadable. Backhoe looked up nervously at him. Slowly, Phillip’s expression softened slightly and he nodded. “Yes. Everypony does.”

Backhoe visibly relaxed at the words. “You know what? You two are all right.”

“You’re all right, too,” Phillip agreed, with a small smile.

The three sat in companionable silence, with Backhoe occasionally making a comment or asking a question. Spike continued to doodle with his charcoal, and the world passed by, content to leave them be for a while.

Meanwhile, Flash and Twilight were being escorted through a series of grand rooms, each of them tastefully but expensively decorated in fine art and gilded furniture. The City Guards gestured them into a waiting room with two blue and gold couches, a table with a tray of small hors d'oeuvres, and a large framed map of Fillydelphia on the wall. “Duke Blueblood will see you shortly,” one of them declared, giving them a brief nod before exiting with his partner, closing the large doors behind him.

Twilight began to study the map on the wall. Flash walked in a slow circle around the room, checking everything twice, his hoof remaining at his scabbard.

“What do you think he wants with us?” he asked Twilight, taking a small chocolate-coated strawberry for himself and popping it into his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Twilight admitted, still studying the map. “I imagine he probably wants me to do something for him. It would help his image if a Princess voiced approval of how he was doing things.”

“Politicians!” Flash sighed, rolling his eyes towards the chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

“Flash, don’t judge a book by its cover,” Twilight admonished him. “Just because Blueblood is snooty and stuck-up and selfish and obnoxious and…” She trailed off, apparently realizing her own words. “Whatever your opinion of him, we are guests in his house. Remember that.”

“Fine,” Flash grunted.

At that moment, the doors opposite them opened. A unicorn mare adorned in the armor of a City Guard clomped through. She had a shining emerald green coat and short blonde hair. Her stern green eyes examined Flash and Twilight briefly. Flash’s eyes quickly spotted the three chevrons and three bars on her collar and he immediately snapped to attention, saluting.

The mare returned the salute crisply. “I am Master Sergeant Quarter Deck, head of Duke Blueblood’s personal security unit. Please follow me.” She turned on her heels and trotted down the hallway, with Twilight and Flash following. Pausing at a door, Quarter Deck knocked briskly.

“Come in!” came a voice on the other end. Quarter Deck opened the door and gestured her guests inside, her face the picture perfect form of stoicism. Twilight and Flash entered the room, and the door closed behind them.

The walls of the small office room were painted in such pure white that it almost hurt the eyes to look at them. Sunshine yellow carpeting covered the floor. On the wall opposite them was a large portrait of Duke Blueblood, flashing a confident smile at the viewer. The Duke himself was sitting on a large cushion behind a large oak desk, the top of which was covered in stacks of papers, trays of pencils, a lamp and a golden telephone. He nodded politely as they entered, brushing a bit of lint off his prim blue suit. “Your Highness. Sergeant. Please take a seat.” Using his magic, he pulled two royal purple cushions out from behind him and set them down before the desk. Twilight and Flash sat down upon them.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice,” Blueblood said, keeping his eyes steadily on Twilight.

“Your Guards didn’t give us much of a chance to disagree,” Flash pointed out. Blueblood ignored him.

“I’m pleased by your hospitality, sir,” Twilight said, plucking her phrases carefully, mindful of the social games and political dances required to curry favor amongst the social elite. “Why did you want to meet with me?”

“I wanted to give you a warning,” Blueblood stated plainly. “This city is not a safe place, especially not for a young Princess such as yourself. Do you know how high the crime rates are?”

“The highest in the nation, especially in the areas of drug-related crimes,” Twilight recited. “The reported rates last year was 65.37 drug crimes per one thousand ponies and and 43.97 violent crimes.”

Blueblood blinked slowly. “Er...right. The point stands, that is far too many. While you are in this city, I cannot guarantee your safety. Even the City Guards cannot guarantee your safety. Are you aware that in the past three weeks alone, nine of my City Guards were killed on active duty?”

“So if it’s not safe, why are you staying?” Flash cut in.

“Flash…” Twilight hissed warningly.

Blueblood turned to Flash for the first time, tilting his nose up to look down at him. “Simple. This is my hometown.” He paused, noting the brief look of surprise flickering on Flash’s face. “Surprised to learn that I grew up in this city? I may have had the good fortune to grow up in different circumstances than you, but this is my home as well.” He turned back to Twilight. “Again, I repeat; this city is not safe and it is not kind to outsiders. I am aware of your reason for coming here, and while I agree that your intentions are noble, they are liable to get you killed, and I do not want your death on my conscience.”

“Or on your public image,” Flash muttered. “Ow!” he added a moment later when Twilight gave him a sharp jab in the ribs with her magic.

“We appreciate your concern, Blueblood,” Twilight said pleasantly. “However, we’re not scared of these criminals. And we cannot leave yet; we may have uncovered a lead that could help you significantly reduce crime and corruption in this city.”

Blueblood’s ears perked up slightly. “And what is this lead?”

“We—” Twilight started to say.

“We can’t tell you,” Flash interrupted. He gave Twilight a meaningful look and shook his head slightly. She glared back at him for a moment, but silently conceded.

Blueblood sighed. “If you are not willing to cooperate with me or listen to my warnings, then, unfortunately, we have nothing more to do here.” He turned back to the papers on his desk. “I need to get back to this, and you need to go home and be safe.”

“We will be safe, but we’re not going home until we finish this,” Twilight responded, standing up. “Thank you for your time.” She stood up and turned towards the door. “Come, Sergeant.”

But Flash didn’t move. Instead he gave Blueblood a long look, then spoke. “And what exactly have you done to help this city?”

Blueblood looked up. “Excuse me?” he asked in a sharp tone.

“In case you haven’t noticed, things aren’t exactly coming up roses out there,” Flash said, standing. “You know, out there, outside this mansion of yours.”

“I am aware of that, Sergeant,” Blueblood replied, also rising. “I served on the city board for twelve years before I was elected as the head of this city. Are you aware that after I took office, crime rates dropped significantly due to my reforms?”

“And what then?” Flash responded, glaring right back at Blueblood despite being shorter by almost a full head. “Crime is still everywhere, you’ve turned the City Guard into an occupying army full of crooks, and there are families starving on the streets!”

“Flash, that’s enough!” Twilight snapped, grabbing his foreleg. Flash firmly pulled himself out of her grip.

“And you don’t care at all, do you?!” he shouted. “As long as you’ve got some figures for your image, you’re happy!”

“Enough!” Blueblood barked. “I will not be spoken to like this in my own home!” He glared at both ponies. “As bad as it is right now, when I first took the office seven years ago, it was even worse. Our ponies—my ponies, my neighbors, my responsibility—were starving and afraid. Something had to be done; desperate measures had to be taken, and I took them.”

“Dad?” a small voice suddenly spoke from the door. Turning, everypony saw a small unicorn colt timidly standing at the doorway. He had a cloud white coat, sapphire eyes, and a trimmed pale silver mane and tail. He was wearing a simple light blue suit jacket and a bow tie. No cutie marks adorned his flanks.

“What is it, Pelorus?” Blueblood asked, his demeanor instantly changing; he smiled brightly at the youngling, his periwinkle eyes twinkling with pride.

The little colt glanced uncertainly at a unicorn mare wearing a pearl dress standing behind him. She had an indigo coat and long white and blue hair with a luxurious tail. She smiled kindly at the little colt, her pale brown eyes glimmering with kindness.

“Go on, dear,” the mare said in a soft voice, nudging the colt forward. Flash and Twilight both noted her cutie mark: a bright white eight-pointed star. The youngling walked quickly to Blueblood, casting a shy glance around at Flash and Twilight.

“Mom wanted me to tell you,” the colt said to Blueblood. “I...I accidentally broke your vase. The one with the picture of the pine trees?”

Blueblood frowned. “Why did you break it?”

“Because I was running around the house, and bumped into it, and it fell over,” the colt mumbled, staring down at the carpet instead of at his father’s face.

“And did I tell you that running down the hallways was wrong?” Blueblood asked, his voice firm but not angry.

“Yes, dad,” Pelorus replied.

“And now you know why,” Blueblood stated. After frowning down at his son for a moment longer, he smiled and patted his head gently. “There, there, it’s not that bad. It’s just a vase, after all.”

“So you forgive me?” Pelorus asked, looking up with a glimmer of hope on his face.

“Of course, son,” Blueblood said with a smile. “Now, why don’t you go play with your mother? I’ll be along in just a moment.”

“Okay!” Pelorus declared, dashing out of the room and down the hallway. His mother chuckled quietly and started after him.

“Canopus,” Blueblood called. His wife stopped and turned towards him. “Is he keeping up with his lessons?”

“Yes, dear,” Canopus replied. “He’s doing extraordinarily well in every subject.”

“Wonderful,” Blueblood nodded. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m finished with this paperwork and with our guests.”

Canopus examined the surprised faces of Twilight and Flash with a brief frown. “Of course, love.” With that, she turned and walked away, her horseshoes clicking with every step. Blueblood used his magic to close the door to his office, his face falling into more serious lines once more.

“I do not care what you think of me,” he stated to both his guests, his voice of measured calm. “You could not imagine for a moment what it means for me to be the leader of this city. I grew up here, and I know it can be great again. But we will all have to work hard and make sacrifices for it. And the first step is to ensure that the criminals are put in their place and punished for their deeds.”

“But that’s not enough,” Twilight started to say, preemptively cutting Flash off. “You have to try to prevent the criminals from being able to—”

“Enough,” Blueblood interrupted, holding up his hoof. “There is nothing more for us to discuss here.” He pressed a buzzer set on the wall next to him. “Sergeant Deck will escort you out.”

On cue, Quarter Deck appeared at the doorway and nodded to Flash and Twilight. As they stood up to leave, Blueblood set himself down behind his desk once more.

“I am truly sorry for your loss,” he said as they exited. Flash replied with a short glare before following Twilight out of the office. The door closed behind them with a heavy slam as they were led to the foyer.

After passing through a number of hallways, Quarter Deck glanced around to make sure that they were alone, then began to speak without turning to face her charges. “I may not agree with everything the Duke says, but he’s right. You’re not safe here. At all. It’ll only be matter of time before one of you gets hurt.”

“We’re here for the same reason you are,” Flash replied. “Duty.”

Quarter Deck didn’t reply for a moment. “I can respect that. I can’t respect somepony stupid enough to not know when to quit.” They reached the front doors of the mansion, which she held open for them. “Good luck out there.”

“You too,” Twilight said as they exited. The two walked back to the gate, which swung open to let them leave. Two City Guards were waiting to escort them back to their carriage.

“Where shall we take you, Your Highness?” one of them asked.

“The same place you found us, please,” Twilight said. “Where’s Spike and Phillip?”

“Over there,” Flash said, pointing down the street. Spike and Phillip were still sitting on the curb, talking to Backhoe. Spike looked up and saw his friends waiting for him.

“Sorry, we’ve got to go,” he said, getting to his feet. “It was nice meeting you!”

“You, too,” Backhoe smiled, shaking hooves with Phillip.

“Take care of yourself,” Phillip nodded to him, touching the brim of his trilby in salute before following Spike.

“Who’s your friend?” Twilight asked Spike.

“His name’s Backhoe,” Spike said.

“He’s just a nopony,” one of the Guards, a young pale blue earth pony grunted, glaring at Backhoe, who continued to stand at the curb.

“Bugger off,” Phil said firmly. “Give him a fair go. He’s got a filly that he cares for.”

“He doesn’t deserve another chance,” the burly green pegasus sergeant replied, continuing to glare at Backhoe.

“Who are you to judge?” Spike snapped. “You don’t—”

At that moment, Backhoe looked up at the arguing group, his face curious. Slowly, he reached inside his jacket pocket.

“He’s reaching!” the sergeant shouted. Both he and his partner stepped back, their hooves flying to their holsters.

“No! No! Don’t!” Twilight and Spike both screamed. Flash and Phil both instinctively grabbed their charges and dived to the side as fire and brimstone flew from the Guard’s revolvers, each thunderclap echoing horribly. Backhoe jerked with every impact; the blood that flew from the bullet holes that pierced his body stained the white of the sidewalk. Finally, with a groan, he fell back, his limbs sprawling. The cigarette pack that he had been reaching for fell next to him.

The two Guards slowly lowered their weapons, realization dawning upon them. “Oh, God,” the private whispered.

The ponies stared in shock at the scene, every eye turned upon the corpse lying upon its back, staring up as if trying to admire the blue sky one last time. Spike slowly staggered up and walked over to Backhoe. Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out the photograph of the little filly. Canvas Glow smiled up at him innocently, not knowing that her father was never coming home again.

“Why did you do that?!” he shouted, whirling around to face the Guards. “Why?!”

“I...I…” the private stammered. Tears were leaking out from beneath his visor, running down his cheeks.

Spike knelt next to the corpse of his friend, shaking as quiet sobs took him. Twilight went to his side and hugged his little body to her chest, trying to give him some measure of comfort. Phillip and Flash looked at each other, then up at the surveillance crystal staring pitilessly down at them all as the sound of approaching sirens pierced the air.

Author's Note

I know I'm going to catch flak for this, so let me try to explain myself.

Police violence is a serious topic; as a Criminal Justice major, I know that better than most. And I'm certainly not putting it into this story for shock value or to mock the victims of police brutality and violence. It's because this story is meant to reflect the world that we live in.

And as in the real world, no problem can be solved by ignoring it. Acknowledging the problem, and confronting it with open minds and open hearts, is the only solution; indeed, it is the only way that anything gets done.

So if I have negatively affected any of my readers, I am truly sorry; I never intended to shock or hurt you. I only meant to tell a story.

But I promise you this; as in the real world, this will get better eventually.

Part 7: Reaching Out

The sun had long dipped beneath the horizon and the street lamps were casting the streets in a hazy orange glow by the time the friends got back to the Temple. They sat wearily around the kitchen table, unable to look at one another. Spike sniffled, his face marred by tear tracks. In his claw was the photograph of Canvas Glow, still smiling up at him.

“Backhoe was a member of this temple,” Pastor Joyful told them as she stood at the stove, preparing a potato and cheese dish for them to share. “He was a good stallion, a good father to his daughter.”

“Who’s going to be taking care of her?” Twilight asked.

“Her mother will be caring for her now,” Joyful answered. Her upbeat smile had vanished, and the tranquility of her character had disappeared, replaced by a deep exhaustion that spoke of the weight of the many losses and deaths that she had been forced to endure. Removing the casserole dish from the stove with her magic, she brought the dish over to the table and set it down in the center.

“Dear Lord—”

“No.”

Everypony turned to Phillip, who had stood up away from the table; it was the first time he had spoken since Backhoe had died on the curb. He glared up at Joyful, his gray eyes burning.

“Don’t talk to me about God,” he declared, his voice rising to a shout. “Where was He when Backhoe died? Where was He when Rose died? Where is He now, while there are ponies starving and dying out there in the streets?!” He glared at Joyful, breathing heavily with repressed emotion, tears stinging at his eyes.

“Phillip, calm down,” Twilight chastised him. “You—”

“It’s all right, child,” Joyful cut in, her voice as calm as ever. She turned to Phillip, her gaze even. “God didn’t kill Backhoe. He didn’t tell Backhoe to go to that street corner and talk to you. He didn’t pull the triggers on those guns.”

“So, you’re saying that God can’t do anything,” Phillip snapped back. “So what good is He, then?”

“I didn’t say that God couldn’t do anything,” Joyful said patiently. “Please, take a deep breath and calm yourself.”

Phillip glared at Joyful for a moment longer, then slowly closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You’re right, sorry,” he said, sitting down. “It’s tragic, but we need to focus on finding Anchor Point.”

“Why?” Spike muttered, still not looking up from the photograph. “What’s that going to solve?”

“We came here to solve White Rose’s murder, and finding Anchor Point is the next step,” Phillip replied.

“What’s the point?” Spike snapped back, glaring at him. “We find him, we catch the bad guys, they go to jail. Then what?!”

“Spike—” Phil started to say.

“No, he’s right,” Twilight interrupted. “It’s clear that the problem here isn’t just the gangs. It extends much deeper than that.”

“Well, what are we supposed to do about it?” Phillip replied.

“We have to do something!” Spike shouted, banging his fist against the table.

“You’re right,” Flash agreed. “The ponies here need help.”

“And right now, you all need some food,” Joyful said. “Please, eat.”

The friends tucked into the meal, eating slowly; the day’s events had left them ravenous, but they found the food tasteless, and the supper did little to lift their spirits. Once the dinner was finished, Spike offered to help Joyful with the dishes. She accepted with a smile, managing to coax a small grin from him.

“We’ve been wasting time,” Phillip declared. “I need to keep an eye on Plum Dessert. If he’s got Anchor Point holed up somewhere, he’s going to have to lead me to him at some point.”

“Agreed,” Twilight said, lighting her horn. “Hold still for a minute, I’ll help disguise you.” She carefully cast her magic over Phillip, gently altering his appearance. Within a minute, Phillip had disappeared, replaced with a pale green earth pony with a ragged coat and a sandy yellow mane, tail and scruffy beard. Instead of a magnifying glass, his cutie mark was a trio of blue hoofprints, and his vest was blue and tattered.

“Be careful,” Twilight warned him. “Illusion spells are fragile. It’ll fade over time and it’ll disappear if you reveal your identity.”

“Thanks,” Phillip said, removing his trilby and handing it to Flash. Flash took the hat tenderly, treating it with deep respect. “I’ll contact you when I have something solid.”

“What do you want us to do in the meantime?” Flash asked.

“What you always do,” Phillip replied, reaching up and putting his hoof on Flash’s shoulder. “The right thing.” He pressed his head against Flash’s, briefly rubbing against him before releasing and turning to leave.

“Phillip, wait a moment,” Joyful called out. “I want to show you something.” She used her magic to take a polished silver platter out of the cupboard and held it up in front of him. “You asked where God was. He’s right there.”

Phil looked at her, then at his reflection. “That’s not God. That’s just me.”

“Are you sure?” Joyful asked sagely. “If God is everywhere, then isn’t He part of you?”

Phillip looked up at her. “God hasn’t wanted anything to do with me for a long time.”

“You’re His child. Of course He does,” Joyful smiled. She placed the platter back in the cupboard and returned to washing the dishes, quietly humming. Phillip stared at her for a moment longer, his thoughts swimming in his eyes, then silently continued towards the door.

“Be careful!” Flash called after him.

“You, too,” Phillip replied before exiting the temple, disappearing into the darkness as the door closed behind him. Flash looked down at his mentor’s trilby in his hooves, slowly turning it around in his hooves.

“He’ll come back,” Twilight reassured him.

Flash nodded slowly and swallowed. For once, he could not quite bring himself to believe her words.

Phillip hurried down the street, leaping from a dumpster onto the rooftops of the houses and speeding across them, taking the shortest route possible to Plum Dessert’s apartment. He could feel the magic of the illusion spell on his body, tingling like static electricity. The cool night air embraced him, calming him even as his heart beat heavily in his chest from the exertion. He leapt across alleyways, vaulted obstacles, tumbled across rooftops.

As he ran, he thought about Flash and Twilight. For a moment, he considered turning around and going back, returning to their side.

But he shook the thought from his head. As much as he’d appreciate their help on this, he could handle a solo surveillance on his own; they would attract too much attention. And besides, they could do more good helping others than he ever could.

Making it to the street across from his target’s apartment building, he lowered himself down to the street via the fire escape and huddled in the alleyway, pondering his next move.

Suddenly, his head burst with pain: his veins froze and his icicles pierced his lungs and heart. He leaned against the wall, gasping in shock and shivering as the crime sense warning passed over him. Dozens of faces raced past his vision, causing his dinner to lurch within his stomach. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, waiting for the crime sense’s warning to pass.

The sound of an approaching engine caught his attention. He looked up to see a motorized carriage, its sides marked “FILLYDELPHIA CITY GUARD” trundling down the street. It stopped in front of the apartment building and three City Guards, fully clad in armor, climbed out.

“Uh-oh,” Phillip muttered to himself, exiting the alley. He walked across the street, hurrying without appearing to hurry. The City Guards bustled to the door and hit the buzzer for Apartment 3B.

“Who is it?” Plum Dessert’s voice called through the scratchy speaker.

“City Guard, open up!” the leader of the trio barked. Almost immediately, there was a buzzing as the front door unlocked. The Guards shoved the door open and stomped inside, Phillip right on their heels.

“Hey, thanks, guys,” he said, mimicking a lower Fillydelphia accent and giving the rear Guard a broad smile. “Of all the nights to lose my key—”

The Guard silenced him with a grunt. Phil fell silent, following behind them up the stairs to the third floor. The trio of Guards surrounded the door to 3B. One of them glared at Phil. “Move on, pal.”

“All right, all right,” Phil said, continuing up the stairs. “None of my business.” He moved out of their sight, continuing up the stairs, then paused at the landing, leaning down to listen.

He heard the door to the apartment creak open. “What do you want?” Plum’s voice asked timidly.

“Where’s Anchor Point?” a Guard’s voice asked gruffly.

“My...brother?” Plum stammered. “Isn’t he dead?”

“Don’t play dumb with us,” another Guard snarled. “We know Phillip Finder and his friends came here, so we know there’s more to this. Where’s Anchor Point?”

“I don’t...he…” Plum stuttered.

With a loud crash, one of the Guards kicked the door open. Plum cried out as the door crashed into him, knocking him to the floor. There was the sound of three swords being drawn.

“One more time,” the Guard growled again. “Where is Anchor Point?”

That was enough. Plucking his boomerang from his vest, Phillip vaulted over the railing and landed on the stairs, immediately tossing the weapon out. It whirled through the air and struck the rear Guard on the wrist, knocking his sword from his grasp and sending it skittering down the hallway. The Guard turned around just in time to see a green earth pony sprint up and leap into the air, driving his knee into his jaw and knocking him out. The other two Guards turned around as Phil drew his baton, the weapon clicking loudly as it unfolded. Plum Dessert, who was still laying on the floor of his entry hallway, stared in shock.

Another Guard, a steel gray pegasus, immediately thrusted at Phillip with his sword. He deflected the strike and tried to counterattack with a roundhouse elbow strike to the jaw, but the Guard ducked and retreated slightly, raising his sword for another strike. Phillip weaved underneath the blade, simultaneously using his free hoof to snatch a coat hanging from the wall and fling it into the face of the third Guard, momentarily blinding the dark green earth pony. “Run, Plum!” he shouted. Spurred to action, Plum scrambled to his hooves and ran a safe distance away.

Phillip grasped his baton in both hooves and deflected the Guard’s next two strikes, maneuvering himself so that his opponent was between him and the third Guard. Snarling, the Guard swung at Phillip’s head. Phil blocked the strike and closed in, headbutting the Guard in the jaw and staggering him.

Grunting and snarling, the pegasus punched Phillip in the face; he stumbled, but managed to grab his enemy’s sword arm. Pulling the arm close, he used his body as a fulcrum and spun the pegasus around, smashing him into the wall.

The third Guard seized his chance and cut at Phillip’s head. He ducked, grabbed the Guard’s arm as it passed over his head, and struck at the joint with his baton, forcing it to suddenly bend past its natural limit. There was a loud crack and the Guard dropped his sword, howling in agony.

The pegasus braced against the wall and bucked backwards, striking Phillip in the chest and sending him crashing into the opposite wall and slumping to the floor. Recollecting his sword, the pegasus cut down at Phillip, forcing him to clumsily roll out of the way. Before he had time to fully get back up, the sword flew at his head once more. Phillip blocked the attack with his baton, but received a hard kick in the face that sent him sprawling to the floor, the baton clattering to his side and blood filling his nostrils.

A victorious grin spread across the corrupt Guard’s face and he towered over Phillip, thrusting his blade down at him. Phillip rolled to the side, the blade impacting the floor less than inch away from him. “Hold still!” the pegasus growled, thrusting again.

Sitting up, Phillip seized the pegasus’ hoof and pulled him in close, yanking the weapon harmlessly aside. Letting go with one hoof, he snatched a small black spray bottle from an inside pocket in his vest and sprayed the contents into his enemy’s mouth. The pegasus staggered back with a choked yell, clutching his throat and coughing heavily as the pepper spray burned his throat.

A distinctive click warned Phillip. Looking up, he saw the third Guard drawing a jet black revolver with his good arm, his broken arm dangling uselessly by his side. Gritting his teeth in pain and fury, the earth pony aimed the weapon at Phillip.

Reacting instantly, Phillip ducked down, raised his hind legs and bucked out, hitting the choking pegasus in the chest. The Guard flew backwards and crashed into his partner, causing them both to stumble. Forcing himself to ignore the pain of his wounds, Phillip flipped back to his hooves and snatched his baton back up.

With a grunt, the gunpony shoved his partner to the floor and took aim again. Leaping up, Phillip kicked off the wall as his attacker fired, the bullet missing him by inches. He counterattacked in midair, disarming the Guard with a strike to the hoof and simultaneously delivering a one-two punch to the jaw, knocking him down. A final roundhouse kick to the chin finished the fight.

Phillip leaned against the wall, panting heavily. The adrenaline began to wear off, and his injuries began to clamour for attention; his head pounded like there was a hammer inside his skull, his broken nose throbbed, and judging by the fiery pain that spread through his chest every time he breathed, his ribs were broken in at least three places. He glanced around at his downed attackers; the Guard that he had first knocked out was sprawled outside in the hallway, the one who had tried to shoot him was slumped against the wall, and the pegasus was laying on the floor, panicked tears streaming down his visored face as he struggled to breathe.

“Help me!” the Guard rasped. “I don’t wanna die!”

“You’re not going to die,” Phillip grunted, lifting himself off the wall and walking into the kitchen. Retrieving a glass from the drying rack, he filled it up with water and returned to the Guard. Crouching down next to him, he poured the water onto the victim’s mouth and nose to wash away the pepper, then tilted his head back and helped him swallow the rest of the water.

The Guard sighed in relief and coughed. “Thank you—” he wheezed, but his expression of gratitude was cut off by Phillip’s knockout left hook.

“Plum!” he called out. “You can come out now, it’s safe.”

Plum Dessert emerged from his office, trembling from head to tail. “Who...who are you?” he whimpered.

“Phillip Finder,” Phil replied. At his word, he felt the illusion spell melt away, revealing his true identity. “Plum, where’s your brother?”

“Roof...he’s hiding on the roof…” Plum stammered.

“Okay. Call an ambulance,” he ordered the other pony, who nodded and quickly trotted back into his office. He walked outside and grabbed the unconscious Guard laying in the hallway outside, dragging him into the apartment entryway. He took the Guards’ shackles out of their saddlebags and shackled all three of them together, pocketing the keys.

“All right, I called an ambulance,” Plum declared, reemerging from his office.

“Good,” Phillip said. “We need to get your brother.”

Plum nodded and exited the apartment, walking quickly to the stairs and heading up towards the roof, with Phillip close behind him.

“When White Rose was killed, we both knew it was only a matter of time before they came after him,” Plum explained as they ascended. “Not long after her murder, a Nightmare Snake broke into Anchor’s home, but Anchor managed to surprise him in his office and killed him with his shotgun. He called me in a panic; I was the one who suggested he destroy the body and fake his death. I’ve been hiding him here ever since; whenever somepony came, I told him to go up to the roof to hide.” He swallowed and looked back at Phillip. “If I did something illegal—”

“You were doing right by your brother,” Phillip reassured him. “Nopony can blame you for that.”

Plum nodded, managing a weak smile as he pushed open the door to the rooftop. They emerged into the cold evening air, the gravel of the rooftop crunching beneath their hooves.

“Over there,” Plum pointed. Phillip spotted a figure standing on the edge of the rooftop, staring down at the inky blackness of the street below. Anchor Point was thinner than he had been in the picture, worry and grief having taken a great toll on his health. His silvery-blue mane had receded and his coat was unkempt. He did not react as they approached.

“Anchor?” Plum called out. “It’s all right, Mr. Finder took care of the Guards—”

Anchor Point briefly glanced up. No spark shone in his blue eyes as he glanced at Phillip; fresh tear tracks lined his face. “There’ll be more of them,” he said in a dull monotone.

“We can keep you safe,” Plum started to say. “We can—”

“You don’t get it, do you?!” Anchor snapped. “There’s no point! There was never any point! No matter what anypony does, it’s never going to get better!”

Plum stepped back, looking uncertain. Phillip examined Anchor Point for a few moments, then slowly walked up and stood next to him. The street waited beneath them like a deep, black abyss.

“Mate, I know where you are now,” he said in a quiet tone. “You feel like you’re all alone, that the whole world is against you, and that there’s only one way out. But this isn’t it.”

“What other option is there?” Anchor replied softly, his hollow voice echoing with despair. His trembling had nothing to do with the cold.

“There’s always another way,” Phillip said. “Please, Anchor, let me help you.”

Anchor Point glared up at him, fresh tears faintly shining in his eyes. “You’re supposed to be one of Equestria’s greatest detectives, right? Then maybe you can tell me: why did my wife have to come down with cancer? Why did the treatments cost so much, why did my job pay so little that I had to start working with the gangs and the corrupt Guards to pay for her? Why did she die anyway, even after everything I did?! And why, when White Rose offered me a way out, did she get killed too?! Why does nopony care in this godforsaken city?!” He stamped his hoof. “We try to do the right thing, we try to play by the rules, and no matter what, you get f**ked over! It’s not fair! And don’t you dare try and tell me that it is!”

“I won’t, because it isn’t,” Phillip replied. “The world isn’t fair, and it’s especially unfair to good ponies. That’s just the way it is, but it’s all we’ve got.”

“That’s the best you can do,” Anchor said with a feeble, angry laugh. “‘That’s the way it is, it’s all we’ve got.’”

“I’m saying that because it’s true,” Phillip explained. “We all want to think that the world makes sense, that good things will happen to good ponies and bad things will only happen to bad ponies. But…” He paused, slowly turning to look up at the stars above him. “But sometimes things happen. It’s not anypony’s fault. It’s not because we did or didn’t do something, or because of fate or because the stars are lined up. It just...sometimes bad things just happen for no real reason.”

Anchor Point swallowed and stared down at the abyss beneath him. Phillip could see the hesitation in his eyes; right now, the darkness was looking more welcoming than anything.

“But we can’t give up,” Phillip continued. “We have to keep trying; that’s what life is. We get knocked down, we get back up. We can’t always make it on our own; that’s why we try to help each other, because we—”

“Please,” Anchor interrupted, his voice trembling. “Can we not talk about this right now? I’ve been crying for days...my head hurts. I just want to rest.”

“All right. Rest,” Phillip nodded. “We’ll both be right here when you’re ready to talk.”

Anchor Point slowly laid down upon the rooftop, lowering his head to the cold stone with a sigh. Phillip sat down next to him. Plum Dessert sat at his other side. The trio waited in silence, the hours slowly passing by. The sun began to rise, the air warmed around them, and the city beneath them slowly woke up; ponies began to exit out onto the streets and sidewalks far beneath them, their noises filtering up to their ears.

And still they waited.

Flash stared out the window of the Temple, slowly turning the gray trilby over and over in his hooves. The sun was illuminating the streets of the city outside, but none of the faces that he desperately searched were Phillip’s.

“He’ll come back, Flash,” Twilight reassured him, giving him a gentle hug from behind. Flash could only nod in reply. Spike lay on the bed beside him, still sketching on the sheet of cardboard with the charcoal from the street.

There was a knocking at their door. “Everypony, would you like to come down to the service?”

“We’ll be right down, Pastor,” Flash replied, doing his best to tame his unruly bedmane somewhat.

“Here, let me help,” Twilight said, igniting her horn and using her magic to smoothen out the blue locks. Flash felt a warmth spread to his ears at the sensation of her soft, magical touch gently tickling his scalp.

“Thanks, Twilight,” he said, turning and giving her a gentle nuzzle.

“You’re welcome,” Twilight answered, nuzzling him back and kissing him on the nose. He returned the kiss, briefly losing himself in the faint smell of lavender in her mane and the taste of her lips.

“Ick,” Spike gagged, sticking his finger in his mouth. Twilight and Flash both chuckled softly as they got up off the bed and started downstairs, entering the sanctuary.

A muted chattering reached their ears, the sound muffled as though the air was thickened by concern. The pews were only about half full, with many of the attending ponies speaking quietly amongst themselves or sitting off on their own, looking uncertain if they should be there. Flash spotted Canvas Glow sitting in the front row, her head bowed and her lip quivering. An older pale blue unicorn with a white mane sat next to her; Flash deduced that this was her mother.

“Should we go talk to her?” he whispered to Twilight.

“I don’t know—” Twilight started to say, but was interrupted when she saw Spike approaching Canvas. He climbed up onto the seat next to Canvas and spoke quietly to her. She looked up at him, then nodded quietly. Spike gently put an arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. Twilight and Flash took their seats next to him.

The service began with a chiming of a bell at the head of the sanctuary, bringing the room to silence. Joyful Sound stood at the head of the room, using her magic to light the brazier.

“Welcome, everypony,” she called, her voice carrying through the sanctuary. “It is good to see a number of familiar and new faces amongst us today, and it is good to be here today.” She smiled at everypony briefly, then her face fell into more serious lines. “Unfortunately, we have all come here today with bad news. As most of you know, one of our members, Backhoe, was killed yesterday afternoon.” A soft murmur rose up from the pews, some of grief, some of surprise, some of anger.

“We mourn this loss, as we mourn all those who have lost their lives to violence in this city,” Joyful continued. “I ask you now to think of all those you have lost, all those whom you mourn, and speak their names, that we may might remember them.”

“Dad,” Canvas Glow whimpered, her head still on Spike’s shoulder.

“Mom,” Flash whispered.

“Sparks,” said a stallion in the pew behind them.

“Wheels,” an older mare in a back pew said.

“Swallowtail,” added a bearded unicorn opposite Twilight.

Dozens of voices spoke the names of their beloved dead, their voices joined in a quiet, sad melody. Joyful lowered her head, her eyes closed, then slowly lifted her head up, as if raising the spoken names in an offering to God.

“We pray in remembrance, and we pray in hope,” she said. “Hope for a change, hope for a better future. I realize that it is difficult, but we must have faith—faith in God, and faith in one another—if we are to remain strong. And we must remain strong, because justice is coming. We—”

She paused suddenly, an expression of surprise spreading across her face. Her expression was matched by everypony in the sanctuary, who turned to stare at the pony who had gotten up off his seat and was walking towards the raised dais.

Even as he walked up, Flash could feel every instinct screaming at him to stop; part of him begged for his hooves to turn around and go back to his seat, for his mouth to not speak the words that hung on his tongue. But he felt himself being pulled forward inexorably, and so he stepped up onto the dais, turning to face the crowd of ponies that watched him. Dozens of eyes faced him, their gazes like spotlights focused on his soul. Forcing his knees to stop trembling, he took in a breath and spoke.

“Hi,” he squeaked, then swallowed and cleared his throat. “Hello. Um...my name is Flash Sentry. I was born here in Fillydelphia. Some of you may know me, or you might now my mother, White Rose.”

A murmur of recognition rose from the crowd.

“I just wanted to say…” Flash swallowed, blinking. “That I miss my mother, and I’m sure that you miss the ones that you love, too. I wish, just as much as you all do, that you could go back and try to change things, but we can’t.” He glanced at Canvas Glow. She and her mother were looking at him in an expression of dull grief.

“We all came here, looking for some measure of peace and comfort in difficult times,” Flash continued. “And we can get that here, from one another, and from God, if you believe in Him. But praying together isn’t enough; sitting here in this temple has benefits, yes, but it’s not going to change anything out on the street.” He shook his head, recollecting himself. “If anything’s going to change, we have to do it ourselves. Which is why…” He paused, taking another breath. “Which is why I propose reopening the food shelf.”

Another murmur arose from the crowd, many of the voices in tones of disbelief. Joyful stepped up next to Flash.

“Flash, dear, I admire your bravery, but that may not be feasible,” she whispered in his ear. “We don’t have the funds—”

“What is the line that’s above the door out there?” Flash continued. “‘Service is our law.’ ‘Our covenant is to help one another.’ There’s more than we can do to help this city than pray!” He looked around at the congregation, and in each pony’s eyes, he saw the same glimmering hope. “We say justice is coming, but when? We seem to think that time will inevitably cure everything, but time is neutral; it can either be used for good or bad, to change a situation or prolong it. Nothing happens because it was inevitable; it happens because ponies stood up and did something. And the time to do something is now!”

“Yeah!” Spike shouted, pumping his fist into the air. His cry was followed by a round of applause from Twilight, then from Canvas Glow and her mother, and before long, the entire sanctuary was filled with applause and cheers. A relieved smile crossed Flash’s face and he let out a long sigh, wiping sweat from his brow.

Joyful Sound looked around at the ensemble, then smiled and nodded at Flash. “There’s been a change in program. The opening hymn will be The Fire of Commitment, number 139 in your hymnals.” She placed herself at the piano, cuing up the beginning chords of the song as the congregation rose to their hooves. Moments later, the entire temple rang with dozens of voices in melody.

Up on the rooftop of the apartment, Plum Dessert, Anchor Point and Phillip Finder still stood on the edge, overlooking the ponies on the street far beneath them, listening to the music of city life.

“Lot of ponies down there,” Plum Dessert said, for no other reason than to try to break the silence between the three of them. “They look so small from up here.”

“Yeah,” Phillip agreed, leaning forward a little to examine them more closely.

Anchor Point did not answer, staring down at the concrete waiting for him below. After a few moments, he glanced up at Phillip. “Can I ask you something?” he asked. Phillip nodded.

“You’ve been doing what you do for a very long time; almost as long as I’ve been alive,” Anchor said. “What keeps you going? What do you believe in?”

Phillip did not answer; instead, he leaned down even further, staring intently at the ponies passing below. Slowly, his eyes widened as an expression of epiphany spread across his face.

“Did you hear what I said?” Anchor asked.

“I did,” Phillip replied. “And I think I just remembered what I believe in. Look down there,” he pointed at a young mare passing below. “You see that bag that mare’s carrying? That’s a toy store bag; it’s a gift for her child. She’s been saving up for that; I can tell because of how long and unkempt her hair and tail have grown. And you see those two stallions sitting at that cafe there? One of them just checked a box in his pocket. He’s going to ask his stallionfriend to marry him.

“They do look small and insignificant from up here, but they’re not,” Phillip continued, his eyes slowly panning across the ponies below. “They never could be. It’s so easy sometimes to just get caught up in ourselves that we...we forget to look around and remember that we’re alive, and just how special that is...a miracle that’s become so commonplace that we take it for granted.

“But White Rose knew,” he added, turning to Anchor Point. “She knew how special and important life is, and she was willing to fight for it, fight for the good in her life and in other ponies lives. And that’s what I believe in, and that’s what my friends believe in.”

A single tear slowly traveled down Anchor Point’s face, and he looked up at Phillip.

“So, here’s what I propose,” Phillip said, looking directly at him. “If you think that there’s nothing left—that your life is pointless, that you’ll never be happy again—then jump. I won’t try to stop you.

“But if you think that there’s a chance, no matter how small, that you might be happy again, or that you might make someone else happy...then take my hoof,” he said, extending his limb towards the other stallion, the one that trembled like a leaf, more tears falling down his face.

Anchor Point slowly turned from the street to Phillip and back again, his breath heaving in his chest. Phillip stood where he was, still holding out his foreleg.

“Anchor, please,” Plum Dessert whispered, his own eyes shining with tears.

Anchor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but was unable to still the trembling in his body. And he stepped forward.

His hoof grasped Phillip’s and with a greater strength than just his own, Phillip pulled him close, away from the edge, and into his embrace. “It’s all right,” he reassured him. “It’s all right. You’ll be okay.”

“Okay...okay...okay…” Anchor Point whimpered, trembling in his embrace. Plum Dessert hurried over and hugged his brother as well, sobbing, the relief clear in his tear-blurred eyes. The sun smiled down at them, holding them all in its warmth like another pair of arms holding them all, reminding them that they were alive.

Author's Note

When did this story become a philosophy seminar?

This is easily the longest chapter I've ever written, and a lot of stuff happens in it. A lot of very, very good stuff, because it's about time I gave you all some positivity after drenching you in cynicism and despair.

But we've still got a ways to go before we earn our happy ending!

Part 8: Dawn

The next morning, before the sun had fully risen above the skyline, a figure hurried down the street and bounded up to the doors of the Temple, knocking softly as if afraid of disrupting the quiet of the dawn.

The door opened and a pair of eyes peeped out. “Snake Eyes,” Flash grinned, opening the door wider to allow his friend inside. “Glad you came.”

“I was glad to get your call,” Snake Eyes smiled back. “You said you had something for me?”

“Sure do,” Flash said, handing his friend a large envelope.

“What’s this?” Snake asked, opening up the envelope. Inside were several cassette tapes, bundles of paper, and a number of photographs.

“The mother lode, buddy. Everything you need to take down the gangs in this city,” Flash replied.

Snake’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, Flash.”

“Not at all,” Flash replied. “This should be enough to nail not just the thugs on the streets, but also the ones in the offices. Is there a group of City Guards and a few lawyers you can trust?”

“I don’t know,” Snake said, turning over the envelope in his hooves. “I mean...there’s a lot of guys like me who know what’s going on and want it to stop, but…”

“This is their chance, Snake,” Flash answered, putting his hoof on Snake’s shoulder. “Their chance to stand up for this city, to stand up for the ponies that they swore to protect. To do the right thing. I realize they’re probably scared and feel powerless, but they don’t have to feel that way anymore.” He looked at his friend’s cutie marks; a pair of die, both of them showing a one. “This is who you are, Snake. You take the long shot, and even if it doesn’t work, you roll again. I’m asking you: take this bet for me. For all of us.”

Snake looked up at Flash and slowly grinned. “Well, if you don’t roll the die, you’ll never win a bet.” He slapped Flash on the shoulder. “Thanks, bud! I’ll gather up the teams!” He hurried out of the Temple and took flight, soaring straight towards the closest precinct.

Flash watched him disappear into the horizon, then slowly closed the door. He then returned upstairs into the choir practice room. Anchor Point, Twilight, Spike, and Phillip were waiting for them there.

“Are you sure your friend can be trusted?” Anchor Point asked Flash, pacing around in a circle.

“Absolutely,” Flash nodded.

“If you trust him, then so do I,” Twilight assented. Phillip nodded in agreement.

Anchor Point sank into a chair and sighed. “I just want this to be over.”

“It will be soon,” Twilight reassured him.

Phillip glanced at his watch. “The Captain should be here in about half an hour.”

“You sure you want to talk to him?” Flash asked.

“I’m positive,” Phillip nodded, lifting up a photograph and studying it carefully, then setting it down and pulling out a deck of cards. Flash recognized them as the deck that he had given him last Hearth’s Warming. “Anypony up for a few rounds of I Doubt It?”

The group find the idea agreeable and gathered around the table as Phillip dealt the cards. Shouts of laughter soon filled the room as they played. To everypony’s surprise, Anchor Point proved to be a formidable opponent, and had quickly won a number of rounds. Time flew by and a half hour had passed almost before anypony realized.

The game was interrupted by a knocking at the door. “Phillip, Flash, Captain Cornerstone is waiting for you downstairs,” Joyful told them.

“Thank you, Pastor,” Phillip replied, gathering up the cards. “Anchor, you’d best hide.” Anchor Point nodded, blanching, and hid himself in the closet with the choir robes.

“Spike, stay up here,” Twilight instructed the little dragon, her face uncharacteristically grim. She turned and used her magic to lift up a plate with four glasses of iced water, the glasses and ice cubes clinking as they levitated.

Flash adjusted his armor and made sure his sword was tight at his side as he led the trio downstairs to the sanctuary. “I hope this plan works,” he muttered.

“It will,” Phillip reassured him.

They entered the sanctuary, which was bathed in the soft gray glow of the morning sun. Captain Cornerstone was waiting for them on the center aisle, adorned in full armor. His captain’s bars shone like jewels.

“Captain, thank you for coming,” Flash said, shaking Cornerstone’s hoof.

“You said you had something for me,” Cornerstone stated, briefly shaking Flash’s hoof.

“We did,” Twilight said, lifting up a glass of iced water. He grasped it in his hoof and took a long sip.

“We were looking into Anchor Point’s murder,” Phillip explained. “We think he hid some information that the gangs are looking for.”

“What kind of information?” Cornerstone asked, handing the glass back to Twilight.

“Information on corrupt Guards,” Flash stated. “From what I understand, he worked as a negotiator between corrupt Guards and the gangs..”

While Cornerstone was distracted, Twilight took the glass and exited the sanctuary. Standing in the hallway, she levitated the glass into the air. Closing her eyes, she concentrated her magic onto the surface of the glass. A moment later, a clear hoofprint appeared, glowing lavender. With another spell, she created a duplicate image of the hoofprint that hovered in midair like a ghost, slowly revolving. She noted a long, thin scar running the length of the print.

Twilight then took a out a photograph—the same picture that Phillip had been studying earlier—and held it up. The picture was of the lamp from White Rose’s back window. Casting the same spell again, she created an enlarged duplicate image of the hoofprint that also hovered in midair. She studied the images carefully, noting the patterns of ridges, bifurcations, deltas, and the little dots that marked the pores on the skin, as well as a long, thin scar on the surface. If the textbook she had studied was true, then these patterns were unique to an individual pony; nopony else on the planet would have the same hoofprint. She adjusted both of the ghost images until they were the same size, then brought them together.

A green glow confirmed what she had suspected; the prints were an exact match. The scar tissue confirmed it. Relief and concern tumbled against one another in Twilight’s chest; she had hoped that their theory was correct, but now that she could see the proof before her eyes, she didn’t know what to think.

Placing the glass and the photograph down on a table, she re-entered the sanctuary. Flash and Cornerstone were still talking and had apparently not noticed her absence, but Phillip turned around as she entered. She gave him a nod. His face darkened and he nodded back, then muttered something into Flash’s ear. A scowl slowly grew across Flash’s face.

“What is it?” Cornerstone asked.

“As I mentioned, we were also looking into White Rose’s murder,” Phillip stated. “Have you heard of dactyloscopy?”

“Can’t say I have,” Cornerstone asked.

“It’s the study of the patterns of ridges in hoof marks,” Phillip explained. “According to studies, the patterns of a hoof mark are unique to an individual pony.

“When we went back over White Rose’s home, we found a set of hoof marks. Somepony else was there the night she was there,” Phillip stated.

“And those hoof marks match yours,” Twilight accused, stepping forward. “It proves that you were lying when you said that you weren’t with her that night.”

“You visited White Rose, signalled your hired shooter that it was all clear, then left, thinking it'd give you a perfect alibi,” Phillip stated, his eyes hard and cold. “You might not have shot her, but you killed her.”

Cornerstone’s eyes slowly flicked from one pony to another. Phillip and Twilight were both glaring at him, but Flash was trembling, his chest heaving with breath. After a moment, the Captain grunted.

“Nice story,” he said. “But I doubt you could confirm it in a court of law. I could easily claim that you forged my hoofprint on that lamp, and that you tricked me into giving mine. Sorry, but you have nothing to go on.” He nodded curtly. “Good day to you all.” He turned on his heels and started to leave.

“There’s just one thing,” Phillip interrupted, a smirk slowly crossing his face. “We never said anything about a lamp.”

Cornerstone stopped in his tracks, his posture stiffening as if he were slowly turning to stone. He turned to look over his shoulder, and there was something rewarding in his widening eyes.

“And by the way…” Twilight smirked, lighting up her horn. A moving image appeared on the wall, projected by her magic: a recording of herself using her spell to examine the hoofprints on the glass. “If I place that in a recording crystal, I’d say that’d be enough to secure a conviction.”

Cornerstone stood stunned for a second more, then slowly turned around, his eyes narrowing and focusing on Flash. “You don’t know what it was like,” he growled. “When I took the position as Captain of the City Guard, I had to make sacrifices. Negotiating with the criminals of this city was unpleasant, but if it wasn’t for our control, they would take over the entire city. And besides, they weren’t the real problem: it was the poor. The weak, the stupid, the useless ponies who bog down the system because they can’t be bothered to get a job and support themselves! They’re the ones who are the real problem in Fillydelphia, and they’re the ones that we needed to get rid of if we were to become strong again; cut out the weeds to let the garden grow!”

At his word, Flash drew his sword and stormed forward, holding the blade up to Cornerstone’s neck. “My mother was one of those weeds. I was one of those weeds!” he snarled. “And I suppose the money you made off of their blood was just a bonus?!”

“Flash!” Twilight shouted. She started forward to stop him, but Phillip held her back, his face expressionless as he watched Flash.

Flash’s sword shook in his hoof, a sign of his boiling anger. He glared up at Cornerstone, who silently dared him to draw the blade across his throat. Flash drew in a slow, shuddering breath, and spoke.

“You are under arrest for the murder of White Rose and for corruption. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say—”

“Get on with it,” Cornerstone grunted in a bored tone.

Sighing in relief, Twilight conjured a set of shackles around Cornerstone’s hooves. “Let’s bring him to the precinct,” she declared.

Flash sheathed his sword, his posture slumping and his breath slowing as he relaxed. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Proud of you,” Phillip said quietly, a small but genuine smile splayed across his features. Flash grinned back and bumped his flank against his as they exited the sanctuary, Cornerstone slowly marching behind them.

The next three days passed in a blur of activity. The evidence that the friends had passed over to Snake Eyes was like a spark on a line of gunpowder, setting off a trail of fire and brimstone. One arrest led to another, and before long, the Fillydelphia jails were fit to bursting with gang leaders, organized crime figures and corrupt Guards. Every newspaper in Fillydelphia either praised the Guards for this sudden display of competence or wondered what they were planning next.

That morning, Twilight, Flash, Phillip and Spike entered the main precinct where their adventure had started so long ago, shaking off the rain that had drenched them on the way there.

“You know, you don’t have to stay to help with the opening of the food shelf,” Twilight told Phillip as she used a heat spell to quickly dry them all off. Spike quickly glanced into a waterproof bag that he had been carrying over his shoulder and sighed softly in relief.

“I know,” Phillip replied, shaking his head to get his mane out of his eyes. “But I want to.”

They entered the foyer, passing by a pair of City Guards, both of whom nodded respectfully; the friends noted that much of the Guards’ armor had been removed and their visors were lifted up to show their faces.

The same Sergeant from before was waiting at the desk, speaking to an older mare. Upon seeing them approaching, the Sergeant briefly excused himself. “The Captain’s waiting for you inside,” he told them, gesturing to the doors behind him.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Twilight nodded as they pushed through the double doors. They walked down the carpeted hallway and into the main office floor. It was just as busy as they remembered; ponies dashed from one desk to another, passing files and shouting to one another across the room, their calls mingling with the ringing of telephones. However, as the group passed through the room, all the Guards stopped what they were doing and started applauding and cheering them.

“No need to thank us,” Flash grinned, waving at everypony as they walked past. “Just doing our jobs!”

“You planning on staying and signing autographs?” Phillip grunted, although he was unable to keep a small grin off his face.

“Uh…” Spike stammered. Twilight, Flash and Phil glanced back to see him scribbling his name in a Guard’s notepad. Spike stared at them for a moment, then hid the notepad behind his back, grinning in embarassment. The ponies chuckled and shook their heads.

They proceeded past the group of admirers and towards the Captain’s office in the back of the room. Flash knocked at the frosted glass door. “Come in!” called a voice from inside. Flash opened the door and the friends filed in.

Behind the desk, Snake Eyes grinned up at all of them. “Thanks for stopping by, guys,” he said.

“Congrats on getting elected, Snake,” Flash said, grasping his friend’s hoof and pulling him into a hug. “If anypony deserved that position, it was you.”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought,” Snake smiled, subconsciously polishing the captain’s silver bars on the collar of his armor.

“You earned it,” Twilight nodded proudly.

“Thanks, guys,” Snake said, hoof-bumping Spike before settling himself behind his desk. “Now, about your statements. This shouldn’t take too long; we just need to get a clear account of your investigation and—”

He was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Before he could respond, the door opened and Quarter Deck looked inside, frowning at the entourage.

“What is it?” Snake Eyes asked.

Quarter Deck stepped back and Duke Blueblood entered, his face grim. Ignoring Flash and the others, he spoke directly to Snake Eyes. “Captain, congratulations on your promotion,” he stated, holding out his hoof.

“Sir,” Snake Eyes grunted, briefly shaking Blueblood’s hoof. “What can I do for you?”

“I have come to discuss the future of the Fillydelphia City Guard,” Blueblood stated, sitting in front of the desk.

“With respect, sir, you may be the elected head of this city, but you are not the head of the City Guard,” Snake Eyes replied, his voice stretched thin.

“I know that,” Blueblood answered. “However, I am in control of the city budget, and that includes additional funding for the City Guard and other services.”

Snake’s eyes flashed. Flash tensed up, but Twilight’s hoof on his arm stilled him.

“What were you thinking?” Snake Eyes asked softly.

“Obviously, because of a recent...loss of personnel, we need to take a more aggressive approach,” Blueblood stated. “I was willing to divert funds to pay for a new shipment of upgraded arms and vehicles—”

“Thank you, but no,” Snake Eyes interrupted. “We’re not doing things the same way we did them when Cornerstone was in charge.”

Blueblood frowned. “While I’ll concede that Cornerstone was corrupt and took advantage of his position, the tactics that we agreed upon were working. I—”

“Wait a minute, please,” Snake Eyes interrupted again, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. He took a deep breath and spoke in a calm, measured tone. “First off, I will admit that you’re a lot better city head than Lord Hill was.”

“Damn right,” Flash muttered to his friends. “Hill used this city like his own personal piggy bank.”

“You actually care about this city. You care about keeping the civilians safe,” Snake Eyes continued. “However, the job of the City Guard is not just to fight the bad guys, it’s to care for the population. And because of our militaristic approach, we have destroyed the trust between the City Guard and the citizens of this city. That needs to change, and we cannot change it by buying more guns and armor.”

“No, you need these weapons, Captain,” Blueblood replied. “Our enemies are well-armed and dangerous; you cannot afford to worry about the civilian’s opinions. Right now, we are at war.”

As if this sentence was the starting gun at a race, Spike suddenly rose to his feet, reaching into his bag. “Were you at war with him?!” he shouted, pulling out a square piece of cardboard. Blueblood turned and looked down at the image before him: a charcoal sketch of Backhoe, smiling softly up at him in black and white.

“He had a daughter!” Spike shouted at Blueblood. “He was working an honest job to try to take care of her! But your Guards harassed him to no end, because of something he did in the past! Your Guards shot him and killed him, right outside your house!” Tears were running down Spike’s face as he glared defiantly up at Blueblood, who could only stare silently at the charcoal sketch. “And it’s not fair!” Spike screamed, flinging the cardboard at the Duke. The room sat in stunned silence for several moments, the only noise Spike’s sniffling.

Eventually, Twilight reached out and pulled Spike into her embrace, gently stroking his head as his tears gradually subsided. Blueblood reached down and picked up the cardboard, studying the reproduction of the dead pony’s face.

“I can hardly be blamed for the actions of two City Guards, can I?” Blueblood asked softly.

Flash sighed. “No,” he admitted. “No, you can’t.”

Blueblood stared at the sketch for another few moments. Nopony seemed to know what to say or do, so they settled for looking at one another and waiting for somepony to say something.

“This pony,” Blueblood finally said. “Was he a good father?”

Twilight and her friends all looked at each other. “He loved his daughter,” Twilight replied. “That’s as good as any father can do.”

“Indeed,” Blueblood nodded, slowly giving Spike the sketch back. He wiped his eyes and took it.

“I…” Blueblood started to say, then paused, licking his lips. “I had not considered that these...ponies would have families. I believed that they were...merely criminals.”

Flash blinked. “How...how could you not realize that?”

“You have to understand,” Blueblood protested. “I had such high hopes for this city, for these ponies, and when they didn’t come true…”

“You were desperate,” Phillip stated. “You felt that you needed to do something drastic, and you had to justify it to yourself. You felt like you needed to stop them because nopony else could.”

Blueblood nodded slowly. “Believe me, I understand that,” Phillip said.

“Blueblood, your intentions were good,” Twilight said. “You were trying to do the right thing, to protect the ponies of this city. Nopony can blame you for that. But you have to understand, justice is more than just putting criminals in jail. It’s…” She paused, reaching a hoof up to her chin as she thought. “What if it was your son living on the streets, dealing with a drug addiction?”

Blueblood blinked several times. For a moment, he looked incredulous, as though he thought such an idea was utterly ridiculous, but then his expression molded into a softer look of concern. “I’d...I’d want to help him,” he said. “To give him a better life…”

“Of course you would,” Twilight said. “But that’s what it’s like for so many of your ponies right now. You could do so much more for them than just punish them.”

Blueblood blinked up at her. “I know you’ve tried to do the right thing,” Twilight said, “but I think that sometimes we bring our hooves down to punish when we should reach down to help.”

Blueblood stared at the others in silence for several moments, blinking in bewilderment. Finally, he stood up and slowly exited without a word, closing the door behind him.

“I…” Snake Eyes stammered, then cleared his throat. “Right. As I was saying, I’ll be needing your statements for the record…”

The next morning was overcast, the sun struggling to peek through the cover of gray clouds. A low building with white walls sat in the middle of a city block, squatting down as if trying to avoid attention. Faded letters over the doorway declared, “Fillydelphia Food Shelf and Pantry.” Pedestrians and carriages moved right past it without a glance, as if the building wasn’t even there.

Joyful Sound unlocked the door and pushed it open. The hinges squeaked loudly, demanding a dose of oil. She reached out and flicked the light switch on the wall, but produced no response from the lights. “I’m going to have to speak to the power company about this,” she sighed.

“Here, let me,” Twilight offered, lighting up her horn as she, Flash, Spike and Phillip entered. Several balls of light, like miniature stars, blossomed from her horn and floated through the rooms, bathing the rooms in soft white light.

The rooms were coated in a layer of dust and the windows so dirty that they barely let any light through. Chairs and tables were scattered haphazardly around the main room. The incessant dripping of a leaky faucet could be heard from the kitchen. The shelves in the large pantry in the back were empty save for some old cans and empty boxes. A smell of decay and abandonment hung in the air.

“I hope we get enough volunteers,” Flash commented, running his hoof over a layer of dust on a table and leaving behind a long, visible streak. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“We did everything we could to attract as much attention as possible,” Twilight said. “It’s up to them to come.”

Spike walked over to a closet and opened it to reveal an assortment of brooms, mops, sponges, buckets, rags, and other cleaning supplies. He gave a quick glance over the inventory, then clasped his claws together and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get to work.”

The friends began to clean up the area, sweeping the floors, rearranging the furniture and wiping down the windows. After about a half hour of work, there was a knocking at the door. A small group of ponies from the temple strode inside, many of them carrying donations of canned food, fruits and vegetables, baked goods, as well as furniture and cutlery. Canvas Glow and her mother were among the group, both of them looking nervous.

“Welcome, welcome!” Joyful Sound declared, smiling broadly at them all. “Thank you for coming! Please set those donations down in the pantry so we can start organizing them.”

Twilight instantly looked up at the word “organizing,” her eyes brightening. “I’ll take care of them!” she cried, eagerly bouncing over. “Let’s see...we’ll put the grains over there, and the ready-to-eat meals there...until we get the power turned on, we’ll have to do something to keep the refrigerated items cold. Did anypony bring some ice?”

Flash, Spike and Phillip all rolled their eyes, chuckling to themselves. Canvas Glow walked over to Spike, who was washing the windows, then picked up a rag, dunked it into a bucket of soapy water, and began to help him clean the glass off. Her mother soon joined her.

More volunteers began to arrive as the morning went on, some merely pausing long enough to drop off donations, others staying to help with the cleanup. Before long, the pile of donated food was twice the size of a pony, and growing larger by the minute. Joyful Sound began to sing hymns as they worked, with almost everypony joining in on the chorus. Old friends chatted with one another, new friends greeted each other, and foals and fillies played amongst the pantry shelves.

Around noon, there was a knocking at the door. Three City Guards entered, led by Quarter Deck, glancing around at the room and the ponies therein. A moment later, Duke Blueblood entered, his step uncharacteristically uncertain. His wife and son followed behind. The entry of the nobles caused a cessation in activity and noise, everypony staring as the head of the city approached Twilight and Flash. He paused in front of them, choosing to examine the floor at the hooves instead of their faces.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he finally said. “And I think...perhaps it is time that I tried to take a different approach...that I took the time to actually learn and listen from my ponies instead of making decisions all on my own. And I thought...that perhaps this was a good place to start.” He swallowed and blinked up at Twilight.

Flash stared at the Duke in open-mouthed disbelief. Smiling, Twilight nudged him back to seriousness. “Well, I’m sure we’re all very glad you’re here,” she said to Blueblood, giving him a proud nod. This seemed to instill some courage into Blueblood, who stood up straighter and nodded back.

Canopus stepped forward, lifting up a bag from behind her back. “I made some of my three bean casserole to share,” she said, handing the bag to Pastor Sound.

“That’s wonderful, thank you,” Joyful said, accepting the gift.

Blueblood shuffled his hooves. “So...where would you like us to start?” he finally asked.

Joyful smiled and levitated a broom over to him. “You can start with the basement, dear.” Blueblood blinked, then nodded and walked off with one of his Guards in tow. Canopus walked into the kitchen and began to help cleaning and sorting the incoming cutlery. With the Duke and Duchess having been accepted into their midst, activity quickly resumed in the food shelf.

Canvas Glow walked up to Pelorus, who was watching his mother at work. “Hi!” she greeted him with a smile. “I’m Canvas. What’s your name?”

“Um…” Pelorus stammered, shifting to hide between his mother’s legs. Canopus looked down and quickly figured out the situation in a glance. “It’s all right, dear,” she chuckled, nudging her son towards the eager young filly. “She just wants to say hello.”

Pelorus hesitated for a moment longer, then approached Canvas. “Uh...hi. I’m Pelorus.”

“Puh-lore-us,” Canvas Glow pronounced laboriously, frowning slightly. “That’s a funny name.” She grinned. “I like it! Do you wanna play with us?”

“Okay,” Pelorus said after a moment. “What do you want to play?”

Canvas tapped her chin in thought. “Hmmm...how about…tag! You’re it!” she cried, tapping Pelorus on the shoulder and running off. Pelorus stared for a moment, then chased after her, giggling. Canopus watched them play, her face glowing with pride and happiness. Even Quarter Deck smiled briefly as the two foals ran between her legs.

The day passed by quickly, and evening settled upon Fillydelphia, the clouds parting to reveal the stars. The food shelf had been fully cleaned from basement to ceiling, the dining area was perfectly organized, and the last of the donations had been sorted into the pantry shelves. Even the leaky faucet in the sink had been fixed!

Blueblood, Canopus and some of the volunteers were sitting around the tables, chatting over paper cups of coffee served by Pastor Sound. Pelorus was napping next to his mother, Canvas Glow curled up next to him. Spike was snoring contentedly in the corner. Twilight put a blanket that she had found in the basement over his sleeping form and nuzzled his head. He smiled in his sleep.

“Twilight,” Flash said softly, touching her shoulder. “Can I speak to you out back?”

“Sure,” Twilight smiled, following him towards the back. They passed by Phillip, who was leaning against the wall. He gave them a tired but proud nod as they walked past out the back door. They emerged into a small park, the leaves crunching beneath their hooves. Twilight shivered slightly in the sudden chill of the night, and Flash instinctively drew her close, draping a wing around her for warmth.

“I wanted to thank you for your help,” Flash said, giving the park a brief glance for any threats, then turning to look up at the sky. “It really means a lot to me that you came and helped me with this. None of this could’ve happened without your help.”

“Of course we came and helped,” Twilight responded, cuddling up against him. “Anything to help you, or these ponies.” She admired the stars dancing above them, twinkling in approval. “I’m sure your mother would be very proud of you.”

Flash blinked a couple times and reached up a wing to wipe at his eyes. “Thank you, Twilight. I know she would’ve loved to meet you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Twilight.”

“I love you, too,” Twilight smiled. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips. He kissed her back, running a hoof through her mane.

As they separated, Flash cleared his throat. “Um, Twilight...the reason I asked you out here was because...because I…”

“Yes?” Twilight asked, tilting her head in confusion.

Flash swallowed, tugging at the collar of his armor. “I...would you…?”

But his question was interrupted by a hoofstep and metallic clicking.

Meanwhile, inside, Phillip sleepily studied the other ponies in the room. Blueblood appeared to be in the middle of telling an amusing story, complete with grand gestures, which his companions seemed to be deeply fascinated by. Even Quarter Deck, who was standing a few feet behind Blueblood, seemed deeply interested in the tale.

Suddenly, Quarter Deck paused, reaching a hoof up to her earpiece. Her face instantly fell into serious lines. She leaned down towards Blueblood, apparently interrupting his punchline, and bent to whisper into his ear. The smile on his face disappeared immediately, turning into a look of shock.

Suddenly, a flash of icy cold rushed through Phillip’s body, his muscles tensing and his lungs stopping as though he’d been shoved into a tub of ice water. Instantly awake, he got to his hooves and hurried to the back door, shoulder ramming his way through.

“Flash, Twilight!” he called out. “Something’s happened—” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he saw the nightmare in front of him.

Flash and Twilight were lying facedown on the ground, surrounded by several ponies, all of them armed with carbines and knives. As soon as he appeared, the intruders turned and aimed their weapons at him. Phillip recognized them all as corrupt City Guards that had been arrested.

And there was no mistaking the large, stone gray earth pony in the back of the group, glaring imperiously at him. “How did you get out?” Phillip growled quietly.

“The evidence against me didn’t stick,” Cornerstone replied, his face and tone as impassive as stone. “Take them.”

Somepony grabbed Phillip from behind and pressed a damp, strong-smelling cloth over his mouth and nose. Two other kidnappers pinned Flash and Twilight down and pressed cloths over their faces. The ponies struggled, but the chloroform overwhelmed them; one by one, each of them passed out and went limp. The abductors gathered up their prisoners, hurried into a trio of waiting carriages, and disappeared into the night.

Author's Note

A nice long chapter, soaked in heartwarming fluff...

Only to end with a cliffhanger. I'm evil.

Part 9: The Battle for Fillydelphia

“Why did nopony tell me that they’d escaped earlier?!” Snake Eyes glared around the office, meeting the nervous gaze of every City Guard gathered around the room. Nopony dared answer him.

“Damn it,” Snake muttered, running a hoof through his mane. “Cornerstone must’ve had a cronie in the jail who let him and his buddies out. Where did they go?”

“Captain!” a voice called out. Everypony looked up to see Quarter Deck rushing through the doors into the office and up to Snake Eyes. Spike was riding astride her shoulders. He dismounted almost before Quarter Deck came to a halt.

“Twilight, Flash and Phil are gone!” Spike burst out, his eyes wide with terror. “They just...they disappeared from the food shelf!”

A block of ice settled in Snake Eyes’ stomach and his heart missed two beats. “Oh, no,” he muttered, looking up to meet Quarter Deck’s eyes. While her face remained stoic, deep in her eyes, he saw the same thought, the same fear.

“Captain,” Quarter Deck reported. “At approximately 2124 hours, about thirty minutes ago, I observed Sergeant Sentry and Princess Twilight exiting out the back door of the food shelf. Two minutes later, when I got the call that Cornerstone and his accomplices had escaped and warned Duke Blueblood, I noticed Phillip Finder run out of the back as well. I instructed Corporal Lightdancer and Corporal Thrush to escort Blueblood and his wife and son home and saw them out to the carriage before going back inside to warn Princess Twilight. However, by the time I got back out, they were gone. We searched the area but could find no trace of them. I woke up Spike and hurried here.”

“You don’t think…” Spike whimpered, tapping his claws together in apprehension. “You don’t think that Cornerstone...took them, do you?”

“I don’t know, Spike,” Snake Eyes replied shortly. He turned to one of the Guards, a dark purple unicorn with a shaggy black mane and the cutie mark of three yellow stars. “Sergeant Warden, we need surveillance recordings of the area.”

“Yes, sir. This way!” Sergeant Warden turned and started down a hallway, his hoofsteps beating a rapid rhythm against the carpeted floor.

“Get every available Guard on standby,” Snake Eyes instructed the rest of the room. “Start searching outward from the food shelf. We need to find them, now!”

“Hoo-ah!” the City Guards bellowed as one, hurrying to their task. Snake Eyes, Quarter Deck, and Spike followed Warden down the hallway to a large, locked door. The unicorn pulled a key out from his armor, unlocked the door, and led them all inside.

Spike gaped at the large room that they stepped into. Set into the walls were dozens of round blue crystals, each of which was glowing faintly and projecting a moving image. Everywhere he turned, he was peering at a view of Fillydelphia’s streets and houses.

“Are these the surveillance crystals?” he asked.

“Yup. Thank Duke Blueblood for all this,” Snake Eyes said. “Sergeant, what’s the closest camera to the food shelf?”

“We have a camera near the back park,” Warden replied, igniting his horn. One of the crystals began to glow brighter than the others and the image that it projected grew larger. It was an image of a street to the south of the park, opposite the food shelf. Two street lamps cast the street in an orange glow, and a tall oak tree stood sentinel on the street corner.

“Rewind it,” Snake Eyes ordered. Warden used his magic to rewind the image half an hour, then played it back at a slower speed. A few carriages passed by, and a number of late night pedestrians walked past, but there was no sign of Twilight, Flash or Phillip. Spike shifted from foot to foot, stifling a whine with his claws.

“Wait, there,” Quarter Deck suddenly said, pointing. A line of three drawn carriages was trotting quickly down the road, the ponies steps purposeful and quick. “Zoom in on that pony’s face,” Quarter Deck ordered.

Warden paused the image and zoomed in closer on the pony drawing the second carriage. The pony was a steel gray pegasus with blue-white hair and cold blue eyes. His shoulders were wide and built as solid as iron, and there was a bright red rash around his mouth and nose.

“That’s one of the Guards that worked with Cornerstone,” Snake Eyes said. “He escaped with the others. Follow those carriages!”

With the aid of Warden’s magic, the projected images followed the three carriages and their felonious passengers down the streets of Fillydelphia. The carriages stayed together down Cotton Candy Way, turned onto Wavedance Street and merged into Posey Street. Anticipating their movement, Warden switched views to a four-way intersection. But, to the confusion of the observers, the carts did not appear.

“Where’d they go?” Spike asked.

“They vanished between crystals,” Quarter Deck observed. “Damn it!”

“Wait,” Snake Eyes said. “I know that street. When we were foals, Flash and I loved exploring this city and looking for all the little hidden nooks and crannies. If memory serves, there’s an old disused tunnel that connects to Posey Street right before that intersection. Sergeant, switch to Hackney Street.”

Another street replaced the image, this one a road of cracked pavements, the image partially blocked by overgrown branches that quivered in the wind. The mouth of a dark tunnel could be faintly seen in the corner of the projection, cast in darkness by a flickering lamp.

“Advance it slowly,” Snake Eyes said, and the image began to progress. Save for the movement of the branches, there was no indication that anything was changing.

“Are you sure about this, Captain?” Quarter Deck asked.

“There!” Snake Eyes shouted, pointing. A garbage cart was emerging from the tunnel, drawn by a pair of ponies wearing the orange reflective vests of sanitation workers. One of the ponies was a steel gray pegasus with a rash around his mouth.

“Clever, boys, but not clever enough,” Snake grinned. “Follow that cart!”

Warden chased the garbage cart down the road as it traveled out of the inner city. Eventually, the two fugitives passed through a chain-link fence surrounding a large patch of barren land.

“The old Scrap Heap junkyard,” Snake Eyes noted. “Sergeant, call every available Guard. We have a rescue mission to prepare for.”

The Scrap Heap junkyard was two square miles of barren ground surrounded by chain-link fence. Piles of garbage were dumped haphazardly at every corner and rusting vehicles and appliances had been tossed aside to crumble into dust.

Towards the back of the junkyard was a short concrete hut. It had formerly served as an office room when the junkyard was operational; now, it served as a fine stockade.

Phillip, Flash and Twilight lay on the concrete floor, each of them tightly bound with several coils of rope and their mouths duct taped shut. Phillip and Flash had been stripped of their clothing, armor, and gear, which was now in one of the dummy carriages to be used to create a false trail. Twilight had a restraint ring around her horn, and she and Flash both had their wings were firmly bound to their sides. Phillip was lying facedown on the floor, still unconscious; Twilight and Flash were struggling futilely against their bonds. Flash tried to squirm his way over to Twilight in order to try to untie her.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” Cornerstone growled as he entered. Three ponies followed him: Flash and Twilight recognized one as a corrupt City Guard that had been arrested. The other two bore the tattoos that marked them as members of the Nightmare Snakes.

Flash and Twilight glared up at the former Captain as he approached Flash. Cornerstone scowled at Flash for a moment, then raised himself up and slammed his forehooves onto Flash’s chest. The pegasus grunted and curled up into a ball, coughing and wheezing. Twilight shouted in protest through her gag.

“You were warned, Sentry,” Cornerstone stated, kicking Flash repeatedly. The sound of every blow echoed in the small room, accompanied by Flash’s grunts of pain. “You were told repeatedly to let it go, but you didn’t listen.” He knelt down and took hold of Flash’s wing in both of his front hooves. “And now you pay the price.”

There was an earsplitting crack, Twilight screamed, and Flash let out a long, muffled roar of pain. He curled up into a ball, breathing heavily and shivering as he tried to shield his newly broken wing from further damage. Tears of pain shimmered in his eyes.

“Don’t pass out, son,” Cornerstone ordered, slapping Flash across the face. “I want you to hear this. Since you took away all of my primary means of income, I’m in need of money. And you three are going to fulfill that need.” He looked over Flash and Twilight, both of whom were now looking up at him in a mixture of apprehension and anger. “I’m going to put the three of you up for bid. A young, handsome Royal Guard such as yourself is worth quite a lot on the slave market, Sentry. And for an actual Princess...I could name my own price. As for Finder,” he added, glaring over at Phillip’s still form. “There are a lot of ponies who would pay through the nose for a chance to get revenge.”

The three thugs that were with Cornerstone chuckled darkly.

“So I need you three alive... for now,” Cornerstone concluded, rising back up to his full, imposing height. “But I will not hesitate to discipline you.” He turned to the three ponies. “You three, keep an eye on them. Tomorrow, we start preparing for our revenge.” Cornerstone exited the hut. The corrupt Guard exited to stand guard outside, leaving the two Nightmare Snakes inside with the prisoners.

They leered at Twilight and Flash, who instinctively tried to huddle closer to each other for safety. Flash whimpered faintly with every movement as pain shot up his wounded wing.

“Heh, look at the pig,” one of the Snakes, a bulky coal black pegasus with snakeskin green eyes sneered, adopting a mock baby voice. “Da widdle baby’s gonna cwy.”

“Yeah,” his partner grinned. He was a milky white earth pony with light pink eyes, wearing a long trenchcoat. He pulled something out of his pocket: a flat, carved stick. Flash recognized it: it was his boomerang.

“What’s that?” the pegasus asked.

“I found it in his saddlebags,” the earth pony replied, nodding at Flash. “I thought it was cool, so I kept it.”

“It’s a stick,” the pegasus deadpanned. “I got better ideas on how to entertain ourselves.” He slowly examined Twilight, passing his lecherous grin up and down her body. “This one’s got a pretty flank on her.”

Flash immediately began to struggle against his bonds with renewed fervor, letting out a stream of muffled curses and threats as his eyes blazed with fury. Roughly pushing him to the side, the two Snakes converged on Twilight. She immediately responded by lifting her knees up to her chest and kicking out, striking the pegasus in the chest and knocking him back.

“Feisty one!” the earth pony grinned. He blocked Twilight’s attempt to kick him and pinned her down, pressing in with his body. “I’ve never done a royalty before,” he hissed softly, leaning in close and taking a long sniff of Twilight’s mane. She struggled and flailed beneath him, but all in vain.

The pegasus got back up and held Twilight down, slowly drawing his tongue across her cheek. “Delicious,” he breathed.

Twilight whimpered, shivering. Flash continued to try to free himself, desperately calling out to Twilight through his gag.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” the pegasus whispered into her ear. “We’ll go easy—”

His sentence was interrupted by a muffled grunt and a heavy blow, and he collapsed. Phillip was standing behind him, his hooves still tied behind his back and his mouth still taped, but the rest of the ropes were undone and lay on the floor.

Not wasting a moment, he snapped forward and kicked the earth pony full in the face, sending him flying off of Twilight. Turning, he kicked the pegasus in the head, fully knocking him out. Phillip then jumped up and tucked his knees to his chest, looping his bound hooves underneath his hind legs and up in front of him.

The door burst open and the guard who had been standing outside dashed into the hut. In one movement, Phillip dashed forward, snatched up the length of pipe from the floor and threw it at the guard. The pony’s nose exploded in a shower of crimson and he reared back, clutching his face. Dashing forward, Phillip struck the guard across the jaw twice with his elbows, then looped his hooves over his enemy’s neck and brought his chin down onto his knee, knocking him out.

The earth pony raced towards Phillip, fury across his face. Thinking quickly, Twilight quickly rolled over into his path, causing him to trip over her body and fall flat on his face. Turning, Phillip finished his downed opponent with a knee drop to the head.

Breathing heavily, Phillip tore the tape off his mouth and bit off the ropes around his hooves. Hurrying over to Twilight, he lifted the restraint ring off her horn. In an instant, she used her magic to untie herself and Flash, then cast immobilization spells over their former captors.

“How did you get yourself untied?” Flash asked, slowly getting to his hooves.

“Learned a few things about escapology from Daring,” Phillip replied shortly, clutching his wounded ribs as he hurried to Flash’s side, examining his mentee’s broken wing. He let out a slow hiss. “Sorry, Flash; I had to fake being unconscious to buy myself the element of surprise.”

“It’s all right,” Flash said through a pained grin. “Could be worse.”

“Hold still,” Twilight said tenderly, gathering up the rope that had been used to bind them in her magic and gently wrapping it around Flash’s wing as a makeshift cast. Flash winced, biting down on his lip to stifle a cry. “Sorry, but we need to keep that wing still until we get proper medical attention,” Twilight whispered, now using her magic to carefully set the broken bones in place to aid in their healing. Both stallions noticed that she was still shaking.

“Twilight, can you teleport us out of here?” Flash asked gently.

“I can...I can try,” Twilight nodded, swallowing. She pulled Flash and Phillip close and closed her eyes, focusing her magic. A field of purple magic surrounded the three of them for a moment, then immediately disappeared. Twilight let out a small noise of confusion, then tried again, only to get the same result. She growled in frustration. “There must be something scrambling the thaumatic field over the area. I can’t teleport us out.”

“Then we’ll have to get out on hoof,” Flash stated. He retrieved his boomerang, tucking it beneath his good wing, and headed for the door, quickly scanning left and right and seeing nopony around. “Come on,” he whispered. “Just stick close and stay quiet, and we’ll be okay.”

“Hold on, I have an idea,” Twilight declared. She pulled Flash and Phillip close and channeled magic into her horn. Her mane and coat color began to change, darkening into shades of blue and gray. Her eyes became light green, her horn seemed to shrink into her mane, and her cutie mark was transformed into an anvil. Working quickly, she cast illusion spells over the two stallions, transforming them as well.

“Good thinking, Twilight,” Flash grinned, examining his new crimson coat and snake head cutie mark. “Now, let’s get moving.”

They exited the hut and turned left, walking confidently down the makeshift road formed by the ten-foot walls of junk on either side of them. The stench of rot and decay hung heavy in the air, making them cough into their hooves, but they kept moving.

Suddenly, as they turned a corner, they spotted two Snakes up ahead, talking quietly and passing a joint back and forth. Twilight stopped, gasping in shock.

Without looking up, Flash reached out and took Twilight’s hoof for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just keep walking,” he whispered. They continued moving forward, not looking around. The Snakes let them pass by without so much as a second glance.

Phillip looked around and spotted a makeshift watchtower constructed of scrap metal nearby. He nodded towards it. “If I can climb up there, I might be able to look around and find an exit.” Twilight and Flash both nodded their agreement, and they made their way to the foot of the tower.

While Twilight and Flash stood guard at the bottom, Phillip climbed up a rickety ladder that creaked threateningly with every movement to the top of the tower, which was thankfully uninhabited. Peering over the edge, he saw the junkyard sprawled beneath him like a great labyrinth, full of unpredictable twists and turns. Searching carefully, he spotted an exit at the edge of the yard nearby. To his dismay, it was surrounded by several ponies, who were apparently standing guard.

He memorized the quickest path there, then quickly climbed back down and rejoined the others. “I found an exit, but it’s chocka thugs. We’d have to get past a lot of wankers.”

Flash glanced around and sighed. “The longer we stay here, the more chance that we get caught. We’ll have to risk it—”

Suddenly, he was interrupted by several loud, piercing whistles. Everypony looked up at the noise, and then there was a storm of movement as ponies rushed around them, shouting to one another.

“Oh, damn,” Flash muttered. “They must’ve found out we escaped.”

“Nothing for it, then. Come on,” Phillip declared, gesturing them towards the exit. They started to hurry towards safety, pushing past armed thugs. They reached a more open area, with a small valley with a large pond of muddy water on their right. They could see the exit in the distance: unfortunately, it was the length of two hoofball fields away, and there were several ponies between them and the gates. Ignoring everypony around them, they began to trot towards the gate at a quick pace.

“Hey, you!” a voice suddenly barked. The three of them halted in their tracks. A steel gray pegasus with a bright red rash around his mouth and nose was stomping towards them. “Where are you going?”

“To…” Flash started to say, glancing at the others. Other ponies around them began to notice the strangers and turned towards them, suspicion shining in their hooded eyes.

The pegasus glared at him. “Wait a minute, I don’t recognize you…”

Twilight spotted a pale orange unicorn with the cutie mark of a flame in a circle glaring at them. He lit up his horn and cast a wave of dark blue magic over them. Instantly, her illusion spells vanished, revealing their true identities.

Instantly, dozens of guns and knives were aimed at them. “Nice try,” the pegasus sneered. “Get them back to their cell and—”

A wave of purple magic passed over the surrounding thugs, turning their weapons into flowers in their hooves. Phillip lunged at the pegasus, punching him in the throat and knocking him over. “Get to the gate!” Flash shouted, shoving two thugs out of the way.

Suddenly, a large, grey object crashed into them, sending them flying into the muddy waters of the sewage pond. They all fell beneath the surface with a loud splash. Twilight pushed the object off of them with a blast of magic, and they desperately paddled to the surface, gasping in air and shaking the filthy water out of their eyes.

Cornerstone resurfaced, panting heavily as the mud streamed off his body. “You ruined everything!” he shouted, his narrowed eyes focused on Flash. “This was all perfect until you came! I was running this city the way it should be run!” He gritted his teeth, his body trembling with rage. “Forget selling you: I’m going to end you!”

Flash grunted, then spread his arms wide. “Come on then!” he roared, defiance burning in his eyes.

Cornerstone charged at Flash, mud splashing around him as he ran. He launched a front kick at Flash’s face. Flash ducked to the side, but his counterattack was interrupted by a spinning backhoof to the head, forcing him to duck. Cornerstone began to swing at Flash with his hooves, his blows controlled, but fueled with rage. Flash ducked and weaved, evading every blow.

Twilight and Phillip moved to help, but a blast of dark blue magic forced them to halt in their tracks. The unicorn from before had been joined by two other unicorns and they were firing spells at them. More thugs were regrouping around the edge of the pond, grabbing makeshift weapons and climbing down into the pit; more ponies were gathering around to watch. Twilight cast a protective shield around herself and Phillip.

“You handle the unicorns,” Phillip told Twilight. “I can take care of the others.”

“What about Flash?” Twilight asked.

“He can handle himself,” Phillip stated. Twilight nodded, took a breath, and dropped the shield. She spread her wings and took flight, charging right at the unicorns. Phillip clambered out of the pit, striking out with his weapon to take out his first opponent.

Meanwhile, Flash ducked out from underneath a right hook to his head and counterattacked with an elbow strike to a floating rib. Cornerstone grunted in pain and flinched, and Flash pressed his advantage, leaping up with a flying punch to the jaw and a straight shot to the chin. Cornerstone deflected the second strike and countered with a powerful punch to the gut that made Flash double over. Cornerstone knocked Flash away and lashed out with a roundhouse kick to his left side, striking his broken wing. Flash yelled in pain and stumbled, falling back into the mud.

Bellowing in fury, Cornerstone lunged at Flash, stomping at his face. Flash rolled out of the way, gritting his teeth against the pain, and scooped up a hoofful of mud, flinging into Cornerstone’s face. Blinded, the earth pony lashed out at Flash. Evading to his opponent’s back, Flash kicked out and struck Cornerstone in the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel. Cornerstone swung his elbow back, but Flash blocked the strike and counterattacked with a knee to the ribs.

Cornerstone pulled his arm in close, blocking Flash’s attack and hitting him in the chest, then dropped to all fours and kicked out with his back legs, sending Flash flying backwards into the edge of the pond. He disappeared beneath the surface again.

Rising back up to his hooves, Cornerstone hurried over to Flash’s prone form and seized him by the neck, lifting him up. Spinning him around, he wrapped his foreleg around Flash’s neck and squeezed, holding his other foreleg around Flash’s chest. Flash struggled, choking and gasping for breath, but Cornerstone’s grip was too tight.

“You shouldn’t have come back here, boy,” the former Captain snarled into Flash’s ear. “Why did you come here? Why did you come when you knew it would only bring trouble?”

Flash gagged, his vision darkening around the edges. He saw Phillip on the edge of the pond, surrounded by five ponies. Twilight was forced to generate a shield around herself to block simultaneous magic streams from three unicorns. He struggled for air, but the vise around his neck was too tight. He was beginning to black out...

Suddenly, with a thunderous explosion that seemed to shake the sky, the gates of the junkyard flew violently open. Silver canisters flew through the opening and detonated as they struck the ground, filling the air with tear gas. Ponies staggered away from the gas, coughing and choking.

“We’re under attack! Open fire!” a corrupt Lieutenant bellowed. Other ponies around him drew their weapons and began firing into the cloud.

A reply came from the smoke: a furious roar and a long jet of green flame that swept from side to side, forcing the terrified gunponies to dive for cover.

“It’s a bucking dragon!” one pony shouted, cowering behind a pile of scrap.

“I’m outta here!” another unicorn declared, leaping up and running away. His attempt at escape, however, was halted by a crossbow bolt to the knee, and he collapsed, shouting in pain.

Dozens of City Guards, all of them adorned in full armor, marched out of the smoke, firing upon their targets with cold precision with guns and crossbows, some covering their partners with heavy riot shields. Captain Snake Eyes was leading the charge, his face grim and tight beneath his visor. Spike rode atop his back, sending streams of flame at any attackers foolish enough to come out from behind cover.

“Charge!” Snake Eyes shouted. “For Fillydelphia, and for our friends!”

Teams of City Guards spread out amongst the maze of junk like an unstoppable flood. Their focused push overwhelmed all attempts at resistance. The sounds of battle filled the air as the Nightmare Snakes clashed with the Guards.

Distracted by the attack, Cornerstone loosened his hold on Flash. Seizing the opportunity, Flash gasped in a breath of air, then loosened his right wing. His boomerang fell out, released from his grasp, and he caught it in his hoof. Immediately, instinctively, he drew his foreleg back and threw the weapon out. With a whistling, the boomerang arced around, striking Cornerstone in the side of the head. Momentarily stunned, the earth pony released Flash. Leaping up, Flash spun around and kicked Cornerstone in the chest, forcing him away.

“You asked why I came back here,” he panted. Cornerstone lunged at him, lashing out with a jab-hook-cross combo. Flash weaved out of the way of every punch and dropped to a crouch, punching Cornerstone in the side of the knee, striking a sensitive band of tissue. Cornerstone yelled in pain and stumbled back, then lunged again, trying to grab Flash again. Leaping to the side, Flash dove beneath the surface of the muddy water, disappearing from view.

Growling, Cornerstone rummaged beneath the water, trying to find his quarry. “Come out here!” he roared, limping forward on his injured leg.

Suddenly, like some swamp monster emerging from the depths, Flash resurfaced behind Cornerstone, kicking him in the back, right over his kidney. Cornerstone staggered to the side and Flash struck again, kicking him in the head to knock him down. He then grabbed Cornerstone's hind leg, pulling it straight out and pressing his attacker’s knee against his leg. “Because injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” Flash growled, and pulled.

There was an earsplitting crack like a tree branch breaking and Cornerstone roared in agony, flailing in pain as his leg broke. Flash climbed up to Cornerstone’s head, pinning him down with a knee to the neck.

“Because I took a vow to uphold justice and protect the innocent,” Flash continued, bending down to growl right into Cornerstone’s ear. “Because I’m a Royal Guard.”

“Damn you, I’ll kill—” the defeated Captain shouted, trying to get up only to be stopped by a punch to the jaw that knocked him out. Flash rose to his hooves, panting.

Meanwhile, Twilight used her magic to deflect a stunning spell from one unicorn, striking another unicorn in the face and knocking him out. The unicorn who had fired at her summoned a stream of fire from his horn, directing it at Twilight. Twilight took flight, dodging every spell that the two unicorns that she was battling fired at her. Swooping low, she cast her magic over several piles of junk, sending them flying into the air at her two foes. The unicorns were forced to use their magic to repel the projectiles. One of them was overwhelmed and was struck over the head by a bathroom sink, knocking him out.

Growling, the orange unicorn summoned an expanding shield that forced the flying junk away. Turning, he fired a stream of magic at Twilight. She countered with a stream of magic of her own. The two beams struck head-on, struggling against each other for a moment, then Twilight’s magic overwhelmed his, forcing the blue magic stream back towards its owner. The unicorn was forced to construct a hasty shield to protect himself, which shattered under Twilight’s onslaught. Stunned, the unicorn staggered back and looked up to find Twilight running towards him, aiming a punch right at his face.

He sidestepped, deflecting the blow and countering with a chop to Twilight’s throat. Instinctively, immediately, Twilight raised her forelegs, blocking the strike. With a shout, she dropped her weight and lashed out with her elbow, striking the unicorn in the chest as she used her other foreleg to keep his arm under control. Stepping forward, she placed her leg behind the stunned unicorn’s legs and pushed him back, tripping him and toppling him onto his back. With another shout, she lashed out with a powerful hook, knocking out her opponent in a single blow.

Three thugs all swung at Phillip simultaneously. He ducked beneath their attacks, then leapt up into the air, grabbing the heads of the two attackers in front of him and smashing them together as he kicked the third opponent in the face, knocking them all out. Another group of ponies started to rush at him, but a jet of green flame forced them away: the City Guard had finally caught up. The Snakes that weren’t cut down by gunfire immediately surrendered and were quickly shackled.

Spike leapt off of Snake Eyes’ back and hurried over to Twilight, flinging his arms around her, ignoring the wet mud that still clung to her coat. She hugged him back tightly, holding his shaking form close. “I’m okay, Spike,” she breathed.

Snake helped Flash climb out of the pond, already shouting for medical assistance for the wounded. Cornerstone still lay in the mud, semiconscious, his broken leg twisted like a gnarled branch. The sounds of battle in the background had faded: the City Guard had won.

Flash and Phillip staggered over to Twilight, both of them panting with exhaustion from their respective engagements. Flash pulled a surprised Twilight into an embrace, even as a unicorn medic began fussing over his injured wing. Phillip let out a sigh and sat down as the City guard began to make one last sweep of the area, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

This night was theirs. Fillydelphia was safe again.

Author's Note

See, Don? Flash nasty. Flash don't shiv.

Part 10: Ends and Beginnings

The afternoon sun shone down on the crowds gathered in front of the Fillydelphia Food Shelf and Pantry. The lights from several different cameras flashed and flickered like fireflies. Duke Blueblood stood before a podium upon a raised dais, facing the rows of ponies in front of him. To his left was Snake Eyes and several of his lieutenants, dressed in a ceremonial uniform and looking highly uncomfortable. To his right was Flash Sentry, Twilight Sparkle, Spike and Phillip Finder, their wounds from the battle two days ago bandaged, Flash’s broken wing in a cast. Quarter Deck stood right behind Blueblood. Joyful Sound stood at the threshold of the Shelf, smiling.

“I stand before the ponies of my city,” Blueblood stated, his voice magnified to carry over the crowd. “Humbled by my past experiences, and seeking your forgiveness. I seeked to make this city safer, but in doing so, I created an environment that oppressed you, broke the necessary trust between the City Guard and the ponies they were meant to help, and not only did I allow corruption to fester and spread, but I sanctioned acts of violence against my citizens. And for that, for allowing all of you to suffer, I am truly sorry.”

Canvas Glow and her mother could be seen in the front row, their heads bowed in grief. Pelorus, who was sitting next to with Duchess Canopus on his other side, gently reached out and took the filly’s hoof. She managed to smile weakly at him.

“But I swear to you, changes will be made,” Blueblood stated. “From this day forward, we shall build a new Fillydelphia, one built on trust and cooperation between the City Guard, the local government, and its citizens. One that helps out the disadvantaged members of the community instead of pushing them to the side. And I would like to dedicate the reopening of the Fillydelphia Food Shelf and Pantry, with the support of an indefinite grant, to that cause. If you ponies believe in this city as I do, and in each other as I hope you do, then I invite you all to join me in rebuilding this city in the image that it was meant to be.”

His words were greeted with resounding applause from the crowd. He paused to acknowledge the praise with a brief nod.

“Laying it on a bit thick, isn’t he?” Flash muttered to Twilight.

She giggled quietly. “Well, he is changing for the better. Progress is progress.”

Blueblood raised his hoof for silence. “We are also gathered here to acknowledge the heroes who helped bring change to this city. Were it not for their bravery and determination to find the truth, the corruption within the City Guard might have continued unabated. So, for their actions, I am proud to offer Princess Twilight Sparkle, Sergeant Flash Sentry, Spike the Dragon, and Sergeant Phillip Finder the Keys to the City.”

More applause erupted from the crowd as Blueblood levitated out four blue key-shaped medals on golden straps. One by one, he placed them over Twilight’s, Flash’s, Spike’s and Phillip’s necks. As he did so, he shook each of their hooves (or claw, in Spike’s case), giving them a generous smile as he did so.

When he reached Phillip, he shook the detective’s hoof firmly. “Sorry about that comment I made at the Blue Moon Festival,” Phillip muttered, just loud enough for Blueblood to hear him.

“It’s all right. I am sorry for the comments that I made,” Blueblood replied, accepting the apology with a nod.

Once the applause died down, Blueblood retook his place at the podium. “Thank you. And now, Pastor Joyful Sound, who runs the pantry, would like to grace us with a few words.”

He stepped back and allowed Joyful Sound to step up to the podium. “Thank you, sir,” she nodded to Blueblood. “And good morning, everypony. It is with joyful hearts that we are gathered here today, hopeful for positive change.

“However, we must be realistic. There is a long road of recovery ahead of us, and it will not be without problems,” Joyful continued. “One food shelf will not solve every problem in society; a City Guard cannot stop all crime. Change does not magically come from outside; it has to come from all of us, one pony at a time.

“In that spirit, I would like to offer this prayer.” She bowed her head slightly. Most of the ponies around them also bowed their heads in respect.

“We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end starvation,” Joyful prayed. “For You have already given us the resources with which to feed the entire world, if we would only use them wisely.

“We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to root out prejudice; for You have already given us eyes with which to see the good in all ponies, if we would only use them rightly.

“We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end despair, for You have already given us the power to clear away slums and to give hope, if we would only use our power justly.

“Therefore we pray to You instead, O God, for strength, determination, and willpower, to do instead of just pray, to become instead of merely to wish."

“Amen,” the crowd murmured as one, and with that, the ceremony was finished. Blueblood stayed for some final questions from the crowd of reporters, but Twilight and the others quietly took their leave, trotting away from the crowd.

Spike admired his new medallion. “Hey, what about Plum Dessert and Anchor Point?”

“I heard from Snake Eyes that they’ll be moving out of the city together,” Flash replied.

“I hope that they’ll be all right,” Spike said.

“They will be,” Phillip said.

Flash sighed in relief, shrugging his shoulders. “Glad that’s all over with.”

Twilight kissed him on the cheek. “We have some time before we have to take the train back to Ponyville. Is there anything you wanted to do?”

“There is one thing,” Flash nodded, his face falling slightly.

A half hour later, the four of them gathered around a single headstone in a great park that sat next to a tall oak tree. Golden and brown leaves slowly fell down upon their heads as they approached. Flash bent down and placed a bouquet of white roses before the stone.

“Bye, mom,” he whispered.

A strong foreleg wrapped itself around his shoulders and he found himself being pulled into Phillip’s embrace. Twilight and Spike also embraced him, and they simply stood in silence for several minutes as Flash allowed the last of his tears to fall like the dying leaves.

With a whistle, the train pulled away from the station, headed back to Ponyville. Sitting inside one of the compartments, Twilight watched the city of Fillydelphia, illuminated against the evening sky, disappearing into the distance. Spike was nestled against her side, dozing peacefully. Phillip and Flash were sitting opposite her in the compartment. Flash was holding his boomerang in his hooves, slowly turning it around and around.

Phillip looked at Flash with a long, sideways look, then cleared his throat. “Flash, may I talk to you outside for a moment?” he asked.

Flash blinked up at him. “Sure,” he said, rising. The two of them exited the carriage into the empty hallway, closing the door behind them. The train rumbled quietly beneath their hooves.

Phillip stared at the wall for a moment before taking a breath and speaking. “Flash, I wanted to say that you did aces. Really: I couldn’t have handled it better.”

“Thanks,” Flash nodded, giving Phillip a hearty slap on the back. “But I couldn’t have done it without yours, Twilight’s, and Spike’s help. Besides, you taught me a lot.” He smiled and looked down at the boomerang in his hooves. The Hearth’s Warming gift from his mentor had saved his life two nights ago.

“You’re right,” Phillip said, looking up at him for the first time. “I did teach you a lot. I taught you to be better than me, in so many ways.” He swallowed. “Flash, you know that I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life. Made a lot of mistakes. And I don’t want you to be one of them.”

He reached beneath his vest and pulled out a rolled-up scroll, which he handed to Flash. “What’s this?” Flash asked, unrolling the scroll.

“My attempt to do something right for once,” Phillip replied. “I had it done up while you were still in the hospital.”

Flash studied the contents of the scroll, his eyes scanning them several times over. His face fell into an impassive expression as he stared at the words before him.

“It’s meaningless,” Phillip stated, looking down and slowly pawing the floor beneath him. “A formality. And if you don’t want to, I understand. But...I just thought that you...that I...that this was the best way that I could say…”

His stammering was interrupted by Flash suddenly putting both his forelegs around him and hugging him tightly. “I know,” Flash smiled, a joyful tear running down his cheek. “I love you, too.”

He pulled a pen out of his saddlebags and started to sign the scroll, but Phillip reached out and stopped him. “There’s one thing you need to promise me,” he said gravely.

“What’s that?” Flash asked.

Phillip gave Flash a serious look. “There’s a wall in the Canterlot Gardens. A wall inscribed with the names of every Guard who has died in action. I don’t ever want to see your name on that wall. Not while I’m alive.”

Flash pressed his forehead against Phillip’s. “Hey, don’t worry, chief. I’m not going anywhere. Besides,” he added with a grin. “You taught me how to survive. I’ll be all right.”

After a moment, Phillip managed to smile, happy tears sparkling in his eyes like stars. “Thank you, Flash.”

“No worries,” Flash smirked back, singing his name on the scroll. “It still needs an official signature.”

“Well, we know an official,” Phillip said, opening the door back to the compartment. Both of them reentered. Twilight looked up at them in confusion as Flash handed the scroll to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, unrolling the scroll. After a moment, her eyes widened as she read the contents:

“This sealed and signed document hereby serves as an official recognition that Phillip Finder is the legal adoptive guardian of Flash Sentry. ”

Twilight looked up at the two stallions. “Are you...are you sure?”

“As sure as I’ve ever been of anything,” Phillip nodded. Flash nodded as well.

Twilight smiled broadly and leapt up to hug them both, signing the scroll with her magic as she did so to give the new family an official, legal recognition.

“Oh, and Twilight,” Flash added, pulling himself out of the hug. “There’s something that I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” Twilight asked.

Flash gently pushed Twilight down onto her seat, then dropped to a crouch in front of her. He swallowed, his throat quivering as he fought against his own nervousness. Twilight tilted her head in confusion. “Flash, what is it?”

Flash closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and spoke. “Willyoumarryme?”

Twilight blinked. “Huh?”

Flash turned redder than a cherry tomato, clearing his throat. “I, I, I...uh...I meant…” He took another deep breath, then fixed Twilight with a steady gaze, gently taking her hoof in both of his.

“Twilight, I love you,” he spoke quietly, clearly and with the deepest conviction. “Will you marry me?”

Twilight stared at him, color flooding her cheeks. Flash cringed and let go, looking down at the floor. “Never mind, never mind,” he stammered. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s—”

A field of purple magic surround his head, forcing him to turn around to face the Princess and pulling him close.Twilight gently wrapped her forelegs around his body, being careful to avoid his injured wing, and kissed him full on the mouth.

“Yes,” she answered, happy tears glimmering in her eyes. “Yes, I will.”

Flash’s face split into a broad grin and he let out a short, joyous laugh. He hugged Twilight, kissing her again.

Spike awoke with a snort and blinked up at the group. “Huh? Why is everypony hugging?”

Twilight chuckled and used her magic to pull Spike into the embrace, ignoring his half-hearted struggling. After a moment of hesitation, Phillip joined the hug. The family remained that way for several moments, contentedly allowing the world to race by outside. They had all they needed in here.

Hours later, long after the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and the stars had begun their dance across the sky, the train arrived in Ponyville. The four friends exited onto the platform, blinking tiredly.

Flash and Twilight waved goodbye to Phillip, who walked off towards his own home, before beginning their journey back to the Castle. Spike, who had fallen asleep again, rode atop Twilight’s shoulders; Flash and Twilight held one another close with their wings, their shared heat dispelling the chill of the autumn night.

“So how do you think the others are going to take the news?” Flash asked.

“We can worry about that tomorrow morning,” Twilight replied, nuzzling Flash. He nuzzled her in reply, humming happily.

They reached the castle and entered, making their way to the library. The door was wide open and the light was on; evidently, Starlight was doing some late-night research. They entered the library to find Starlight sitting at the table, levitating several crystal shards taken from the castle in the air. She fired a beam of magic at one shard: the magic reflected off the shard and onto the others, each beam collecting into a single ball of light that began to grow larger and larger, humming like a tuning fork.

“Hi, Starlight!” Twilight greeted her.

Starlight looked up and smiled brightly, dropping the shards. “Twilight! You’re back! What happened while you were in Fillydelphia?”

Twilight opened her mouth to begin her tale, but was interrupted by Flash clearing his throat loudly. He stepped forward, facing Starlight, who returned his gaze coolly.

“Starlight, I…” Flash paused. “I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been treating you. I haven’t exactly been fair, and if Twilight was willing to give you a second chance, then I should too. It’s my duty as a Royal Guard to treat all ponies fairly.” He stepped forward and held out his hoof. “Can you forgive me for my behavior?”

Starlight stared at his extended hoof for several seconds, looking utterly bewildered. Finally, she smiled briefly and took his hoof, shaking it. “It’s all right. I haven’t given you a lot of reasons to trust me.”

“Maybe we can try to change that,” Flash said with a timid smile.

“So, what happened?” Starlight asked eagerly. “You’ve been gone for days!”

“Well, it’s a long story,” Twilight said, setting Spike down gently so as not to wake him.

“We’ve got all night, haven’t we?” Starlight replied, leaning back in her chair. With her magic, she summoned a pot of fresh coffee and three mugs.

Flash and Twilight looked at each other and shrugged. Settling down into the chairs, they began to tell their tale to their audience of one, their tale of a city, of hopes, of crime, and of family.

Author's Note

And thus, our tale finally ends on a happy note, with our family gathered all around.

I hope you enjoyed the Fillydelphia Solution, and that it has inspired you to seek the good in your life and to try to stand for others who cannot stand for themselves. God Bless, and see you next story!

Epilogue: Watching

A pegasus with a green coat and scruffy brown mane, wearing a dark blue suit with a light purple tie, trotted quickly down a stone hallway, his hoofsteps echoing off the polished walls and floor. He panted lightly as he hurried; his master would be eager to hear this.

He reached his destination: a set of wide doors. Music could be faintly heard from behind the doors Two burly unicorns stood guard outside the door, passing a smelly cigar back and forth. As the pegasus approached, both guards instinctively reached for their shotguns, but relaxed when they recognized him.

"He's been expecting you, chief," one of the unicorns said through the cigar. "He's waiting inside."

"Thanks," the pegasus nodded, taking a moment to adjust his tie and smooth out his mane. A guard used his magic to push the door open. The pegasus swallowed and entered slowly, with a deep mixture of reverence and fear. The door slowly shut behind him with a soft click that echoed in the dark, cool cavern. A crystalline chandelier hanging from the ceiling cast a strange mixture of dim light and weird shadows upon everything, including on the great painting on the wall to the messenger's right. He couldn't help but glance at it as he passed by, intently examining the terrible scene before him: a rendition of the final judgement, where the damned were cast into Hell for their eternal punishment. Terror and pain was splashed across the face of every sentenced soul as they were dragged off by grinning, red-coated demons.

His master sat at the other end of the room, his back to the door, his pale golden magic dancing across the keys of a great, golden pipe organ: Beetcloven's Fifth Symphony, First Movement. The messenger strode up to stand a few feet behind the unicorn and waited patiently, breathing in the calming scent of the Saddle Arabian tobacco.

The unicorn finished the song and sighed contentedly, breathing out a cloud of cigarette smoke. He turned to face the visitor, his cold black eyes affixing him with an emotionless stare. "Yes, Star Watcher?" Zugzwang asked.

"Master," Star Watcher greeted with a slight bow. "We just received the last shipment of weapons. They'll be distributed to our sleeper agents within the week."

"Gut," Zugzwang nodded, extinguishing the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "But I did not summon you here for a status report." He looked over the younger pegasus. "Do you know why I made you my apprentice, Star Watcher?"

Star Watcher swallowed. "I don't know, sir."

"Because you have a good mind," Zugzwang replied, looking down at the other pony's cutie mark: a golden telescope imposed upon the Big Dipper constellation. "Your ability to observe patterns and predict future events is an admirable quality, and you are certainly possessed of an intellect higher than most of my assistants." He graced the younger pony with a brief smile. "Of course, your loyalty and your exceptional performance in every aspect counts as well."

Star Watcher smiled. "Thank you, master."

Zugzwang gestured with his head. "Come with me. I want to show you something." He turned and walked up to the pipe organ and pressed some of the keys in sequence, summoning a short arpeggio from the golden pipes. As the last note died away, a hidden door opened in the back wall.

"Have I ever told you the key to winning a game?" Zugzwang asked Star Watcher as he led his apprentice through the open door.

"Yes, sir," Star Watcher answered, entering a room enshrouded in darkness. "You have to be able to control your opponent's movements."

Zugzwang lit up his horn and in an instant, the room was suddenly awash with light. Hundreds of crystals imbedded into the walls began to glow, and Star Watcher saw that the room was much larger than he had originally thought. Images burst into bloom like flowers, floating in the air. Star Watcher gasped as he recognized many of the ponies within the moving, flickering mirages: live feeds from an armada of surveillance crystals.

Rainbow Dash snored on her cloud mattress, the latest Daring Do book laying open next to her. Rarity was hard at work at her sewing machine, stifling a yawn behind her hoof. Fluttershy was curled up beneath her sheets, Angel laying on her belly. Applejack wearily stacked the last of the day's apple harvest in the barn. Twilight, Flash and Starlight sat around the study table, talking about their latest adventure. To Star Watcher's surprise, he even saw Princess Celestia sprawled across a regal golden mattress and Princess Luna writing a long scroll in her study.

"Absolutely," Zugzwang agreed, walking towards the back of the room, his eyes fixed on the largest image. Phillip Finder was curled up beneath the sheets of his bed, his eyes closed peacefully. Zugzwang reached up and stroked the enlarged face with his hoof, as if he longed to reach through the projection and touch the detective's face. "And in order to control the game, one must be able to see the entire board."

Author's Note

Oh, surprise, surprise. And not a good one.

But Zugzwang's masterplan will have to wait a little while longer, I'm afraid...

Chapter notes

Part 1
—"ankle-biter": Australian slang for a young kid.
—Flash's boomerang was indeed a Hearth's Warming gift. See the short story I'll Be Home For Hearth's Warming.
—Part of the purpose of this chapter was to demonstrate how close Phillip, Flash and Twilight have come.
—Starlight is continuing her research into the crystal that the Friendship Castle is made out of, which she began in the previous story, The Grilled Cheese and the Muletese Falcon.

Part 2
—Gotham City was a large inspiration for the setting and atmosphere of Fillydelphia.
—Phillip's crime sense reacts to crimes and dangers where he needs to intervene to protect others. Because the whole city is essentially one large crime scene, it's no wonder his crime sense went haywire.
—The lyrics to the song that the ruffians were listening to is, of course, based off of Ice-T's infamous Cop Killer.
—"BAMB": Bad Ass Mother Bucker
—Snake Eyes' name, of course, comes from the nickname for rolling a two with a pair of die, an unlucky toss.
—In the Phillipverse, Blueblood is merely a Duke, not a Prince.
—"Wade in the water": an old African-American spiritual.

Part 3
—"Love is the spirit of this congregation...": a quote by James Vila Blake, a Unitarian minister. The UU church I attend uses this as its covenant.
—My UU church here in Springfield was an inspiration for the layout of the Temple.
—"For food, for raiment...": this is the Wilderness Grace, also known as the Philmont Grace, a simple prayer that is frequently used by Boy Scouts.
—While I don't include the EQG movies in the Phillipverse, I did use the first movie as an inspiration for how Flash and Twilight first met.
—Rosedust Street is named after a Generation 1 pony.
—Anyone in the audience ever use lemon juice to make invisible ink messages?

Part 4
—"Tell them to send something bigger next time!”: Tempting Fate there, Flash.
—Wingsong Way is named for a Generation 2 pony.
—Anchor Point's alleged murder was inspired by The Valley of Fear.
—Fluoxetine, venlafaxine, and phenelzine are all actual antidepressant medicines.

Part 5
—516-4673 is a double reference. Job 5:16 reads, "So the poor have hope and injustice shuts its mouth." 4673 on a dialpad can be used to spell "hope."
—The idea of a pair of glasses being a crucial clue comes from The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez.

Part 6
—A camera tree with a sign that says “FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION.” Where have we seen things like that before?
—We've seen in some episodes that Spike draws in his free time, according to glimpses of his room. I'd like to think that he's become a very good artist.
—Backhoe's plight represents the reality for many ex-convicts, who are denied assistance in reintegrating back into society and the opportunity to make an honest lifestyle, which forces them back into recidivism. Fact: about 66% of all released convicts in the United States will be rearrested and sent back to prison.
—A pelorus is a navigational instrument, similar to a compass.
—Canopus is the brightest star in the southern constellation Carina, and the second-brightest star in the night sky after Sirius.
—Making Blueblood a buffoonish character or a strawman conservative whose only purpose was to be proven wrong and dismissed was tempting, but I felt it was a waste of a character. I decided that making him a good-hearted, but detached and misguided leader was a better option, particularly since it lead to his later redemption.
—Police shootings are no laughing matter, I know, and I would certainly never make light of something so serious or include it simply for shock value. Adding in this scene underlined just how tense things are between the City Guard (even the honest ones) and the civilian population.

Part 7
—Joyful's conversation with Phillip about God and His value was inspired by one of my favorite books, When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Rabbi Harold Kushner.
—Spike also brings up a valid point: merely putting criminals in jail is not always adequate to solve societal problems. The fact is, the overwhelming majority of prisoners will be released someday, and that brings a host of issues to society, not the least of which is how to deal with an individual who has been completely institutionalized and does not know how to lead a life of their own (remember Brooks from The Shawshank Redemption? That's the reality).
—If you remember past stories, you'll know that Phillip's hat used to belong to his father, and he is very attached to it. His giving it to Flash is a sign of just how much he trusts him, and how close they are.
—Phillip attempting to talk down Anchor Point was inspired by this sequence from the comic Superman: Grounded.
—"We seem to think that time will inevitably cure everything, but time is neutral...": paraphrasing a section of Martin Luther King's famous Letter from a Birmingham Jail.
—I first heard The Fire of Commitment at a UU service, and instantly fell in love with it. It has become one of my favorite hymns.

Part 8
—"I Doubt It," also known as "BS" or "Cheat," is a card game based on deception, where the goal is to be the first to get rid off all your cards. Phillip and Flash are very good at it.
—The old "fingerprint off the glass" trick. It worked here because it's a relatively new discovery in the Phillipverse.
—"dactyloscopy": the proper name for the study of fingerprints. "Dactyl" comes from the Greek word for "finger." (I couldn't figure out what a good word for hoof was, so I just hand waved it)
—Also the old "How Did You Know That Specific Detail That I Never Told You" trick, faintly foreshadowed in Cornerstone's first meeting: he couldn't resist talking too much.
—I've volunteered at a food shelf for a number of years, and I can tell you, it is not as simple as you might think it is.

Part 9
—The fight between Flash and Cornerstone was inspired by Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns, where Batman fights the leader of the Mutant gang in a mud pit.
—"thaumatic:" refers to thaumaturgy, the ability to make miracles.
—"chocka:" Australian slang, "full of."
—a crossbow bolt to the knee: ha ha. Skyrim reference that's not completely overused.
—“Because injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere:" quoting Martin Luther King, Jr.

Part 10
—“Sorry about that comment I made at the Blue Moon Festival:" see previous story The Blue Moon Brings Death.
—Joyful's prayer is taken from a prayer written by Rabbi Jack Riemer.
—“No worries:" Flash takes after his father so much.
—And yes! The proposal! Finally!

Author's Note

Chapter notes from the story.