Those Who Dwell Under The Hills

"Train departing for Canterlot in - five - minutes. Please have your ticket or other method of payment ready for inspection."

The calm, neutral and slightly staticky voice echoed from the speaker panels that lined Ponyville's train station. Silver Spoon, along with a hundred other ponies, shifted closer to the boarding ramp.

When Silver Spoon was a child, train travel was a rare treat. She would accompany her father on business sometimes, to places like Manehatten or Canterlot. The station was smaller then, a simple building with an attendant in a cheerful striped uniform and a platform that was little more than a wooden deck overlooking a single set of tracks. She and her father would stand with a handful of other ponies milling about the platform. There was room to walk around, although she was always made to stay with her father. If it was raining, ponies could stand under the overhang. Otherwise, everypony would enjoy the sun on their faces while they waited for the little steam locomotive that served Ponyville twice a day.

But that had been twenty-five years ago.

Gone was the little station building and the wooden platform and the single set of tracks and the quaint little steam engine. That's what it had all been, quaint. The new station was a dingy, closed-in building constructed of cinderblock and steel. Instead of the station building there was a little kiosk, and instead of the cheerful attendant there was a shiny panel with a set of buttons on it and a receptacle for bits, all polished brass and glass and rivets. Bits went in the receptacle and a single ticket came out, accompanied by a loud buzz. All very efficient.

There was still a platform but the simple wooden slats were long gone. The current platform was roughly five times longer and three times deeper than the old one. Rather than wood, it was a huge, matte grey concrete slab with steel plates riveted to it. Instead of a single pair of tracks it overlooked eight, four served by the platform on which Silver Spoon stood, the other four by an identical platform on the other side of the tracks.

A pony could still enjoy sun on their face, if they didn't mind that it was cold light filtered through a vaulted glass ceiling. They could still walk around if they didn't mind pushing through a densely-packed morass of travelers, all just as grim and grey as the concrete itself. Of course, there was no sun now; the time was well after midnight, and Silver Spoon and her fellow Canterlot citizens were waiting for the very last train home. The vaulted glass was nothing more than a black mirror reflecting the sickly green glow of the vapor lamps and the crush of ponies below.

Silver Spoon tried futilely to sidle away from a large brown earth pony whose tail was pressing uncomfortably against her flank. She pawed at the cold steel underhoof and adjusted her saddlebags in agitation.

What had been so wrong with Ponyville before? It had been a nice town, mostly quiet barring the occasional mad deity or deranged unicorn sorceress. She had friends, her family had money...

But that had been twenty-five years ago.

With a yawn and a little shrug, Silver Spoon adjusted her saddlebags again, shifting the weight of several heavy policy books to a slightly less uncomfortable balance on her back. The claims adjuster position had seemed perfect all those years ago. She'd work out of Canterlot with some local travel, she'd be able to use her talent for appraisal to earn a decent paycheck and she'd be able to help ponies deal with bad situations. What could be better?

Today's business had been a wrecked autocarriage. The steam piston had thrown a rod and the boiler had ruptured because of the sudden pressure buildup. There could have been life-threatening burns, but there weren't. There could have been a dangerous release of uncontrolled magical potential, but there wasn't. The poor earth pony who had made the insurance claim had walked away from the wreck after the autocarriage went off the road surface into the ditch. All she was hoping for was to be able to repair or replace her carriage so she could get to work.

The appraisal, notes and recommendation were in Silver Spoon's saddlebags. The autocarriage was a write-off; a ruptured boiler could damage the frame and in this case the entire front end was more or less destroyed, so repair was not an option. The policy would have covered replacement in this case. Silver Spoon's recommendation was to deny the claim. There had been a pressure gauge and an indicator light missing from the console of the autocarriage, and the owner had dutifully and honestly told Silver Spoon that she'd taken them out some months prior because they were acting up.

Silver Spoon adjusted her bags once again. They always felt so heavy in cases like this. It must have been the extra documentation, she thought, trying to ignore the matching weight in the pit of her stomach.

The speaker panels crackled to life again but were drowned out by a deafening shriek from a short distance down the tunnel. The horde of ponies looked toward the ear-splitting noise in unison.

With a rumble, the screaming train engine roared out in front of the platform. It was a great black-and-silver monstrosity with a set of billowing steam pipes jutting from the front like horns. Below the steam pipes were sets of narrow window slits and bright running lights. The bulk of the rest of the front of the engine was taken up by a massive, bulging metal hemisphere, the train’s magical lift generator. When the train was in motion it would lower to a hair's-breadth above the guiding rails and the sparks from the lift generator would turn into full-fledged arcs connecting the train to the track. It had taken a long time for Silver Spoon to get used to these new levitation trains; unicorn magic certainly made for very fast, supposedly very safe travel, but the aesthetics left a lot to be desired.

The doors hissed open and a flood of ponies washed from the platform to the brightly-lit train cars. Cursory shouts of "pardon" and "excuse me" were thrown haphazardly into the air as ponies pushed, shoved, bumped and otherwise abused each other in an attempt to get into the train. Silver Spoon was a past master of this particular dance and began to simply carve a path through the  crowd with an earth pony's strength. She wouldn't make any friends that way, but nopony else seemed to care, so why should she?

Silver Spoon struggled against the crowd and was jostled, pushed and squeezed by other ponies just as determined to force their way through the crowd. Wings and hooves assaulted her carelessly, accompanied by the low, angry noise of the crowd and the acrid smell of sweat. She felt her head swimming as she pressed on, blinking to clear her eyes.

A too-long moment later, Silver Spoon reached the door of the train. She leaned in and then lurched back as it closed with a loud hiss, barely avoiding shortening her muzzle by an inch. She stumbled back quickly and looked around.

The platform was empty. “Now departing for - Canterlot,” came the unsympathetic voice from the speaker panels above.

"Wait! Wait!" Silver Spoon called, yelling uselessly at the train even as it began to move. She desperately placed a hoof on the corrugated side, quickly withdrawing it as a spray of sparks shot up, the train's siding grinding under her shoe. More shouts were drowned out as the train's whine grew to a roar. The train dropped sharply in front of her, the roar rising to a piercing scream as lightning arced from the glowing lift generator to the tracks beneath.

"-eave me here!" Silver Spoon's shouts were once again audible to her as the train rocketed into the tunnel, the doppler-shifted scream fading into the distance.

Silver Spoon stood alone on the platform under the greenish vapor glare. She'd never been pushed from her train, not in years of riding it. She wanted to pout and yell and stamp her feet. Instead, she sighed and turned to leave the station. There were places to stay in Ponyville, some of them even cheap. There'd be another train in the morning. She adjusted her heavy bags once again and turned, the metallic click of her shoes against the concrete platform echoing from the distant walls of the station.

Chtchtcht...

The noise was like something skittering in the tunnel, and Silver Spoon shivered. Rats, maybe. Rodents were never very friendly and Silver Spoon wasn't good with small animals. She quickened her pace, heading past the shiny brass ticket kiosk toward the turnstile off the platform.

The turnstile squeaked as Silver Spoon stepped through. The normally barely-audible sound was as loud as a gunshot in the empty station, joining the hum of the vapor lamps and Silver Spoon’s own rapid breathing in an oppressive symphony.

With a deep breath, Silver Spoon tried to fight off the rising anxiety. It’s just a short walk to the exit, she thought. Forward to the end of the turnstile lane, then a left and straight toward the double glass doors, then off to find a hotel. Ponyville’s a nice city. Nothing bad happens here.

Chtchtcht...

Silver Spoon's breath caught in her throat. This was the same sound, but now it was closer, not in the tunnel at all. The echoes made it hard to pinpoint where it was coming from. She looked around urgently, the green-tinted concrete and steel revealing nothing. As far as she could see, the station was as still as a tomb.

She resumed walking, turning sharply at the end of the turnstile lane.

Chtchtcht...

The sound was louder, and, whatever was making it, there was more than one. Her pace accelerated, her legs breaking into a long, striding trot. The chattering sounds continued, this time, and were joined by a peculiar buzzing, similar to the hum of the lamps but higher-pitched. The buzzing sound pierced the low noise of the station, louder even than Silver Spoon’s hoofsteps on the concrete.

It was behind her, and getting closer. She didn’t want to look. She just had to get to the doors and get out of there.

The buzzing was joined by a sharp shriek. Reflexively, Silver Spoon swiveled her head back, toward the sound.

Another shriek. A blur of black, stained first with green and then with bone-white. Silver Spoon's eyes went wide.

There was nopony in the empty station to hear her screams.

The last train from Ponyville roared in to Canterlot Station, doors hissing open to disgorge a small army of tired ponies, all pushing and jostling to be the first out of the train and on their way home. In the midst of the barely-controlled chaos, a grey-coated mare with a silver spoon for a cutie mark stepped delicately through the doors and onto the broad platform.

The door of the Golden Oaks library opened and Twilight Sparkle stepped out into the bright sunshine. In many ways, Ponyville’s library was a bastion against the wave of change that had overrun Ponyville in the last two decades. Alone among the surrounding buildings, the tree that housed the library was much as it had always been, its leaves an attractive green, sod overhangs still studded with flowering plants. Twilight looked up in satisfaction, just as she had done most days for the past twenty-five years.

Twilight stepped up to the faded red mailbox and the little pegasus mare that was awkwardly threading a letter into the open slot with her teeth, oblivious to Twilight’s presence. Her mane was streaked with grey, and rather than a set of overstuffed saddlebags she was equipped with a small hovering sledge heaped high with brass-fitted boxes overflowing with letters, but she was still the same mare that had been delivering Twilight’s mail for many years.

Twilight smiled and took a step forward just as her friend looked up from her task. The pegasus waved and opened her mouth, leaving the envelope wedged crookedly in the mailslot. “Good morning, Twilight,” she said.

With a bright smile, Twilight waved back. “Morning, Fluttershy! Mail?”

Fluttershy nodded back and she settled down on all four hooves before stepping close to her old friend. “Oh, yes, there’s a letter for you from Canterlot.”

“Huh, I wasn’t expecting anything. So, how are you doing?”

Fluttershy took a moment to push the sledge to the side, its tiny thrusters leaving a damp trail on the grass below, then stretched her wings out with an audible crack. “Mm...” she sighed. “Doing fine. Pearl Crescent said she would be coming home for vacation next week.”

A wide grin broke out across Twilight’s face. “That’s great! How’s her schoolwork going?”

“Well, it’s,” Fluttershy said, then sighed. “It’s fine.”

“Is something wrong? Are her grades falling? Does she need tutoring?” Twilight asked, eyes wide.

“No, no,” Fluttershy said hastily. “Really, her grades are fine. She just, um, got into some trouble at school.” She rustled her wings in agitation.

Twilight blinked, furrowing her brow. “Really? What kind of trouble?”

“Um... C-co-” Fluttershy looked away toward the grass as her voice trailed off into an inaudible whisper.

“Sorry, what was that?” Twilight asked.

“Colt trouble,” Fluttershy said quickly. “She, um, she got cited for being in her coltfriend’s dorm room after curfew.”

“Oh,” Twilight replied. After a moment, she chuckled and continued. “Well, that’s not that bad is it? I mean, it’s not like she’s expecting or anything.”

Fluttershy flushed and brought a hoof to her mouth. “Oh, I-I hope not! You don’t really think...”

It was Twilight’s turn to speak hastily. “Fluttershy, relax! I’m sure there’s no problem. Just talk to her and make sure she’s focusing on her studies and... being careful, right?”

The flush deepened, tinting Fluttershy’s entire muzzle an odd shade of orange. “I don’t know if I can do that!” she said with a small squeak.

“Of course you can! You’re her mother! It’s not like you and Thunderlane... don’t, right?”

Fluttershy responded by squeaking in a register normally reserved for small birds and edging toward her hoversledge.

“Fluttershy,” Twilight said blandly. “You’re going to have to discuss this with her.”

A few deep breaths later, Fluttershy looked back at Twilight. “I know, you’re right. I can do this. There’s nothing to worry about. I just-” She paused, looking down at her hooves. “I really worry about Pearly, Twilight.”

“Well, for starters,” Twilight said, her tone still bland. “You could stop calling her ‘Pearly’ like a little filly.”

“B-but that’s just it! I don’t really know if she’s ready to be out on her own. She’s still only eighteen.”

“You were living alone by the time you were thirteen!”

Fluttershy winced and drew back again. “Things were different back then. You know that. All I had to worry about was my animals, not-” She paused, then sighed again and hoofed her mane back roughly. “No, you’re right. I’ll talk to her, it’ll be fine. She’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”

Twilight smiled. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Fluttershy returned a shaky smile. “Right. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.” She turned, then stopped and looked back. “Oh, um, you should come down to the office and collect the library’s mail soon. You have a full sack waiting.”

A nod. “I’ll send Spike to pick it up this afternoon. It should mostly just be interlibrary loans from Canterlot and Manehattan.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” Fluttershy lifted off, her hoversledge rising after her, microthrusters hissing.

Twilight watched her friend depart, her smile fading slightly. The years had been reasonably kind to Fluttershy but she wore them visibly, thin grey streaks showing in her mane and tail and her withers jutting just slightly. As she did every day, Twilight felt relief that she didn’t suffer the same rigors and wouldn’t have to for some time.

Turning back to the library, Twilight absently levitated the envelope Fluttershy had left in front of her. It was a plain white envelope, hoof-addressed to her personally in a scrupulously neat script and postmarked from Canterlot, with a blank return address. It spun in the air to allow Twilight to examine the back, but it was cleanly sealed and had no other marks.

She paused, looking around suspiciously as an uncomfortable feeling crept up her spine. The door glowed purple and swung open sharply, and Twilight fled into the safety of her library.

“Spike?” she called out as her nerves settled back down. She set the envelope down on a nearby table, and called out again. “Spike?”

“Hey, Twilight,” a lackadaisical voice called out. “What’s up?” The little purple dragon ascended the flight of stairs that led to the basement as he spoke, a partially-eaten emerald in his claw. The passage of time had bypassed Spike much as it had Twilight; his claws were slightly elongated, as were his jaws, and some of the baby fat had burned off but otherwise he was the same little creature that had accompanied Twilight all these years. Nearly forty years old and he still looked so young...

“I need you to run out and pick up the library’s mail delivery,” she said.

“Oh, sure,” Spike replied. “But I’m knockin’ off after that. Sweetie has a concert in Canterlot this evening and I want to get there early so we can meet up before the show.”

Twilight giggled. “Alright, have fun.”

She turned back to the little wooden table and the mysterious envelope. After a moment, she shrugged and picked it back up. Her telekinetic aura glowed brightly along the top edge of the envelope and a moment later the seal was open. She reached in and was surprised to find, rather than the expected letter, a few squarish objects. She upended the envelope over the table and let the contents spill out.

Pictures, three of them. Twilight hissed involuntarily as she saw the subject matter of the two that landed face-up and quickly flipped the third over.

All three pictures were of Changelings, dead by the looks of it. The black insectoids were stained with green blood and lay awkwardly with their limbs twisted in toward their stomachs, two on hard cobbles, one on a metal slab. The temperature in the library seemed to drop as Twilight looked over the photographs. She flipped up the envelope again, looking quickly to see if there was anything she had missed, anything that could explain the disturbing images in front of her, but there was nothing.

“Changelings?” she said under her breath.

“What about ‘em- Whoa.” Spike’s voice called out from next to Twilight. The lightness in his tone melted away, and for a moment he sounded like the scared little baby dragon Twilight remembered from their shared childhood. “Twilight, what is this?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. The photos flew into the air where Twilight could look more closely at them. She turned them in the air to look at the backs and found writing on one in a loopy cursive.

Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake

Clap your hooves and do a little shake

“Spike, I think Cadance sent these,” Twilight said. Her mind raced. Why would she send these horrid pictures? Where did she get them?

“What? Why?”

Twilight swept a sheaf of parchment and a bright blue quill from the library counter in her telekinetic grip. “I don’t know,” she muttered as she inked the quill furiously. The quill paused in midair, tiny droplets of ink dripping from the sharpened tip, marring the formerly-immaculate parchment.

“Spike, help me. What do I ask?”

“Why not just ask about the photos?” Spike asked back, voice quavering ever-so-slightly.

Why indeed? Twilight mouthed silently while she groped for ideas that were still filtering into her shock-fogged mind. “They-” Twilight paused, then resumed as the cause for her trepidation fell into place. “She didn’t want anypony to know about this. That’s why she sent them the way she did. We need to be very discreet, in case anypony sees our letter.”

Spike was silent for a moment. “Okay, that makes sense,” he said, finally. “Maybe you could ask about... About family stuff? Act like you’re answering a regular letter she sent?”

The point of the quill descended toward the vulnerable parchment and began scratching furiously.

Dear Princess Cadence,

Thank you for your lovely letter. It is so wonderful to hear from you and Shining Armor again. While you are in Canterlot, we should find time for the three of us to get together to share a cup of tea. It has been far too long since I’ve seen my older brother or my favorite sister-in-law! I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Your friend,

Twilight Sparkle

The letter rolled itself up in midair and floated over to Spike. “Send this to Cadence,” Twilight said. Almost instantly, Spike belched a gout of green flame that engulfed the letter, leaving a thin stream of smoke spiraling into the air and out a window toward Canterlot.