Chapter 4: Something’s Off in Ophir...

“That’s the old passage to Ravenholm... We don’t go there anymore.”
- Alyx Vance

Rose and I trotted side-by-side along the dusty road, much as we had a week ago as strangers. Now, however, we did so as friends.

A gentle wind blew at our backs as the sun worked hard to penetrate the clouds. The rains from the past few days had moved on, and while there were still the occasional puddle and downed tree limb from the storm, the skies were as clear as they got in the Wasteland. A gentle gray patchwork of clouds tried it’s best to block the beams of sunlight that snuck through.

As we walked, I thought about my experiences over the past several days. I had found that leaving Autumn Vigil’s home was difficult for me... Far more difficult than I had ever imagined leaving a place could be...

~ * ~ * ~

“Where will you go?” Autumn asked as I was packing my saddlebag. I held the tattered blanket that I had used to patch Rose up, and considered possible uses for it, before setting it aside.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but I think I’m going to head towards Silverhoof,” I said. “It’s supposedly where I grew up, and where my parents found me. They have a secret stash on the outskirts of town… if it’s still there, I might be able to discover more about them, or who I was, or just find some memento of my parents’ earlier life…”

The kirin appeared at my side, holding a blanket within her mouth: a very cozy-looking hoofcrafted blanket that burst with all the colors of autumn leaves. “For you,” she said as I gently took it from her, “since you sacrificed yours for your friend. May your kirin brothers and sisters watch over you as you sleep.”

I ran my talons over the soft yarn, and marveled at the complex geometric patterns that were woven into it… Holding it to my chest, I looked into the old kirin’s eyes. “Thank you.”

She smiled, then turned, glancing back at me. “There is more,” she said as she gestured for me to follow. We trotted over to the ladder that led up to her loft bedroom and she began to climb. I simply stood there for a moment until she called from the top, “Come.” I climbed up the ladder behind her.

The loft was a beautiful but tiny space, filled with memories. Her bed was ornate and intricately carved with patterns outlining various scenes of kirin lore, none of which I could understand or interpret, but nevertheless I could appreciate the artistry woven into them. The stand next to her bed was similarly decorated, and several types of candle holders sat upon it, as well as a prayer book.

She walked over to a dresser on the far wall that hosted several picture frames, a stack of drawings, and a beautiful antique box. Several kirin appeared in the photos, but the most prominent was a picture of Autumn Vigil’s daughter, Blaze. She looked exactly as she did during my vision, and was happily staring just above the level of the camera.

Standing behind the kirin, I watched silently as she ran a hoof along the edge of the photo frame before opening the antique box. She shifted the contents with a hoof, then pulled a piece from it and turned to face me. In her hooves she held the very same orange and turquoise bear claw necklace that her daughter had placed upon my neck during my vision the night before.

“It’s… real!” I gasped as I studied the necklace. It was similar in every detail.

“Yes,” Autumn said as she gazed fondly at the piece of jewelry, “Blaze made it just after her fifth birthday… two weeks before she died.”

I fell to my rump and looked from the necklace to the face of the kirin. In that moment she looked… old. Weary. But the wrinkles around her eyes disappeared as she smiled and returned my gaze. “It is yours,” she said.

Tears threatened the edge of my vision as thoughts of the little filly placing the necklace around my neck filled my mind, and I shook my head as I stared at the floor. “I can’t… I can’t take that from you. Your daughter--”

“Chose to give it to you,” she said as she approached. She tilted my head up with a hoof, then clasped the necklace around my neck, just as her daughter did. “And I have learned that it is unwise to deny the will of the spirits… especially when that spirit is my daughter.”

I looked at her through tear-filled eyes, and I could swear I saw a little filly with a blazing red mane standing just behind her. I wiped my face with a foreleg, but only Autumn stood before me.

I grasped the necklace with a talon and looked down at it as Autumn spoke, “Bear is the protector: a leader with great courage and strength. He is agile, strong, and quick-- much like you. By wearing his claw, you shall be protected and guided by his spirit.”

She clasped her hooves over my talon and the necklace. “And you shall carry the spirit of my people with you.” Her yellow eyes blazed as she spoke, “Be strong, but kind. Command authority, but listen. And rely on your friends to catch you as you fall, and stand with you against adversity.”

All I could do was nod as she released my claw and walked past me towards the ladder. She turned before climbing down. “And don’t drink all the tea at once.”

With a confused glance I looked down at my talon and discovered that I was holding a small sack of the divine leafy mixture. I did the only thing I could possibly do in that moment: cry like a blubbering foal.

~ * ~ * ~

As we walked, I felt the weight of the necklace around my neck, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you getting all emotional over that tea again?” Rose asked from my side.

How the hell?

“What!? No…” I lied, then turned to her as I asked, “how the hell do you know that?”

She giggled. “You get all misty eyed and do this weird smile…” I tried my best to wipe the weird smile off my face… unsuccessfully. “Yeah, like that!” she chided, then started laughing. I responded in the most reasonable fashion I could: by punching her in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell!” she shouted through laughter. It was going to be a long day.

Silverhoof was a long ways away from Autumn Vigil’s cabin, and we would have to travel through several mountain towns and into a valley nestled deep within the Smokey Mountains to get there. The clearest path began by heading up towards Hoofstrap Junction, a small town on the road to Ophir.

Rose’s stable suit had taken a beating. One side of the torso was shredded and cut away, revealing the bandages she still wore underneath. I had offered to fit my armor to her, but she refused and said she had the benefit of S.A.T.S. and the ability to operate at a distance. She also pointed out that having armor on a melee fighter would be a smarter move, and I couldn’t disagree.

Thankfully, the road was relatively quiet, with only the occasional bloatsprite, radrat, and radsnake to offer their services as target practice. At one point we heard a howling in the distance and stopped dead, expecting another run-in with the coyotes, but after several tense minutes with no sign of any hostiles, we relaxed and continued walking along the dusty trail.

It was late afternoon when we finally came upon a split in the road with a sign that read: “Hoofstrap Junction: Your gateway to shit beer, ugly fillies, and an overpriced mattress.” A spray-painted arrow pointed in the direction of a road that wound down the canyon towards a large wooden arch.

“Sounds like home,” Rose said sarcastically.

‘Home’ had never been a word I assigned too much significance to, but as Rose said it, I couldn’t help but think of Autumn’s log cabin. I wondered if the old kirin was feeling a little extra lonely now that we were gone, and I made a mental note to return if we were ever in the area again.

As we walked down the winding path, two guard ponies by the arch straightened up and readied their weapons. An old stallion held a small caliber varmint rifle, and a young filly held a six-shooter that seemed far too big for her.

“Hyoold it right thar!” drawled the olive filly in an accent that was entirely too thick. “What’s yer bissnisss in these parts?”

“Just passing through,” I said, trying to remain as casual as possible. “Looking to trade. Materials, armor, healing potions…”

The young mare paced back and forth in front of us while twirling the revolver. “Is thyat sooo,” she said with a twang. She continued to pace back and forth in front of us for several moments without saying a word, and the silence grew awkward.

Rose and I exchanged a glance. What the hell is wrong with this filly? I looked towards the older stallion with the rifle, and he just looked back at me with an amused expression and shrugged. “We uhh...” I coughed.

“Could also use a drink,” Rose added with a shrug.

“A drink!” the guardfilly said, holstering her revolver. “Well we here in Hoofstrap Junction got the best damn moonshine y’all ever did taste, if I do say so myself! Y’ever try RadAway hootch!? Whew-ee, it’s a kicker! Almost as good as Uncle Touchy’s Shine!”

I stammered, “Uncle… Touchy’s…”

“Sounds perfect!” Rose said with a grin.

The guardfilly smiled in return. “Well shoot, y’all just trot right up the main road here and enter the two-story building with the green shutters on the right. And if y’all can’t handle it, there’s beds and buckets on the second floor-- 20 caps a night. Y’all take care now!”

With that, we trotted through the wooden arch. As we passed, I caught a glimpse of the filly’s cutiemark: a half-full mason jar with a white lightning bolt behind it. I guessed she had some kind of inherent bias when it came to the drink trade in this town.

“What the hell just happened?” I asked.

“I saw her cutiemark while she was pacing and thought maybe I could relate to her through drinks,” Rose said with a shrug. “Worked better than I expected.”

I smiled. That move was exactly the kind of thing my father would’ve done. He was always good at talking his way into and out of things.

The main road was lined with buildings on both sides, but as we trotted through the town, I noticed that most of the doors and windows were boarded up, and there wasn’t a soul to be seen. “Hey,” I said, “is it just me or is this place kinda--”

“Empty?” Rose said. “Yeah.”

“Maybe they’re all at the bar?” I suggested. We pushed through the doors of the two-story building with the green shutters and walked into the dingiest, saddest, and most vacant alehouse ever to exist in the history of the Wasteland.

The walls were covered in torn wallpaper, blackened like tar, while chairs and tables of all different materials, sizes, and states of disrepair littered the space haphazardly. We dodged errant furniture on the way to the bar at the back as my hooves and talons stuck to sticky spots on the floor.

Seeing as how there were no seats at the bar, we sat at a nearby table. When I rested my talons on the tabletop it tilted violently, almost knocking Rose in the chin. Looking down, I found the table leg was hovering above a missing floorboard. A mysterious black void sat beyond the hole in the floor and I was convinced some sort of nefarious creature was going to slither up through the opening and bite my face off.

“Eyy Boyo, what can I do ya ‘fer!?” a young filly’s voice shouted, and I jumped, slamming my head on the table. I swore and rubbed my head as Rose tried in vain to stifle her giggles.

“Ow… just a--” I looked up at the barkeep and nearly fell out of my seat. It was the olive-colored guard filly with the mason jar cutiemark, only now she was now wearing an apron and a plaid flat cap. “You...”

She rested her elbow on the table, leaning on a hoof as she spoke to Rose in an accent entirely different from the one she had before. “Your boy’s a wee bit strange, in’he? On a bit of a bender?”

I was terribly confused, but Rose didn’t miss a beat. “Naw, he’s sober. Just a bit of an idiot.” She smiled at me and I grumbled, rubbing my head. “Got any rye?” she asked.

“Aye,” the filly nodded, then turned towards me. “And fer you?”

“Just water,” I muttered, “unless you got a Sunrise Sarsaparilla.”

The filly grinned. “I do indeed! That’ll be six caps fer the both of ya.” Rose slid her the money and the filly disappeared into the back.

“Okay, something weird is going on here,” I said. “That, or I hit my head entirely too hard.”

Rose smirked. “As much as I would like to lead you on and make you believe that you’ve gone crazy, I’m… inclined to agree.”

The filly trotted back and set down a glass of rye and a Sunrise Sarsaparilla. As she did, I got an idea. “Hey, I don’t suppose this town has a trader?” I asked.

“Of course!” the young mare replied. “Ol’ Trader Smith. He’s in the faded red buildin’ cross the way.”

“I don’t suppose you could convince him to come over? I’ve got a lot of caps and stuff to trade, but my head hurts reeeal bad from smashing it on the table, and Rose’s legs are all wobbly from walking all day...” Rose gave me a flat look from across the table.

“I... I’ll see what I can do fer ya,” the filly said as she trotted out the front door of the bar and into the building across the road.

The two of us nursed our drinks for a moment before Rose spoke, “Do you think..?”

“Wait for it,” I replied with a grin.

The olive filly walked through the front door wearing a dirty and tattered suit jacket and a fake white beard that was so bad it couldn’t fool a foal at Hearth's Warming. “Well good day to you!” she said in an awful Trottingham accent. “That lovely young filly from the pub informed me there were strangers who wished to trade, but were unable to make it across the road.”

“Yes, absolutely!” I said. “Though, why hasn’t the bar filly returned with you?”

The filly in disguise stammered for a second. “Ah, yes, well, uhm. You see she... fell down.”

“Oh no!” Rose said melodramatically. “Is she alright!?”

“Oh-- yes! Quite alright,” she replied, “just uhm… resting, the poor dear.”

I reached over to the ‘old man’ and pulled the beard from her face. She stepped back in surprise. “Come on, we knew it was you the whole time,” I said. “Your cutiemark doesn’t change, and this beard is awful.”

Tears filled her eyes as Rose trotted up and punched me in the shoulder. “Way to go, Sherlock,” she admonished. I rubbed my shoulder.

“Hey,” Rose said, kneeling down in front of the teary-eyed filly. “We’re not mad. We just wanna know what’s going on. Where is everyone?”

“Disappeared…” she said, quietly. We trotted over to the table and the three of us sat.

“It started with Rye and Pepper… They went up to Ophir to make a delivery, but never came back… Then Uncle Mill went up to investigate, and he came back all shaken up, telling stories about some conspiracy up there. Organized the townsfolk into a militia, and they all went to go get Rye and Pepper back…”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

“Almost a week,” the filly said. She wiped her eyes with a hoof, then looked up at me. “Something’s off in Ophir… but I don’t know what. And I’m stuck here with grandpa, trying to run the whole damn town by myself…”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you made a damn good attempt at it,” I said. The filly gave a small smile in return. “We’ll see if we can help. What’s your name?”

“White Lightning,” she replied.

* * * * *

“Argh, why does it have to be so tight?” Rose asked with a whine as she squirmed and wiggled within the barding we got from Lightning.

“It was either a little tight, or way too loose,” I said as I quietly took a small amount of joy from watching her squirm. “And you don’t want loose. It’ll hinder you more than protect you. Plus, I should be able to let it out once I can get my talons on some supplies.”

Rose lowered her head and stared up her nose at me with a disgruntled look. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little,” I admitted with a grin. Rose growled. “But at least you won’t get ripped to shreds if you get tackled by another wild animal.”

“I’ll show you tackled by a wild animal...” Rose muttered quietly.

The trek up to Ophir from Hoofstrap Junction wasn’t terribly long, and we still had some light left as we emerged on a trail just below the town.

Ophir was much larger than Tiny or Hoofstrap Junction. It was built on the ridge of a mountain and several two and three-story buildings loomed impressively at the edge, overlooking the ridge and valley below. The trail wound its way up to an arch within the stone wall that circled the town, wide enough to fit a large wagon.

As we trotted through the arch, I didn’t see any guards, but several ponies milled about on the lantern-lined street. I tried to strike up a conversation with an earth pony mare that was carrying a basket of greens, but she ignored me and picked up her step as she rushed away.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light as a tall, impressive unicorn stallion appeared before us. He wore a flawless navy suit that perfectly complimented his blue and silver mane and offset his impeccably maintained dark charcoal coat. He gazed upon us with a pair of pale blue eyes, set below an impressively sturdy horn, and he wore a practiced smile as he spoke.

“Hello my friends! Welcome to Ophir, City of Plenty! I am Veritas Azure, Mayor of Ophir, Bringer of Peace, and Latent Prince of the West.” He flashed a million cap smile as he raised a hoof towards himself. “But titles aren’t important! You must be famished from your journey. Our inn is just over here, up the steps from the square.” He gestured grandly towards the building. “It features comfortable beds and a five-star view, and if you’re hungry, there is a wonderful restaurant on the ground floor. I highly recommend the steak. And please, if you have any questions about our most wondrous town, don’t be afraid to ask! Pleasure meeting you both!”

With a smile and a wink, he was gone as fast as he came, vanishing in a flash of ice blue light.

Rose and I just stood there dumbfounded for a moment, until Rose turned to look at me. “Did I just hallucinate an absolutely stunning unicorn stallion?” she asked.

I returned her gaze. “Uhh… Well... I’m definitely stunned.”

“Oh good,” she said. “I thought I had finally lost it and slipped into some kind of blissful psychosis.” We walked up the steps that led to the grand three-story building that overlooked the ridge. “He was hot, though, right?”

“Rose...”

“Just a little?”

I sighed. “Just, remember why we’re here.”

“Right,” she said as she brushed the mane away from her face. “Find Lightning’s townsfolk, then chase after the ridiculously handsome prince.” I facehoofed.

The inn was surprisingly swanky for the Wasteland, both inside and out. Rich carpet led from the front entrance down into a large restaurant and pub called “The Grotto” that was surprisingly vacant. A stage with an upright piano sat on the far wall, with a wide dance floor in front of it.

We trotted over to a solid mahogany bar where a griffon bartender stood drying a glass with a towel. He wore a smart pinstripe vest and his silver feathers were perfectly groomed. He greeted us as we approached.

“Howdy folks! Lookin’ to eat, or just want drinks?”

We ordered a couple sodas and an order of hayfries, then I gestured to the room. “Is it usually this empty?” I asked.

“Naw… usually we got a few folk, but it’s been unusually quiet the past couple weeks. Must be a seasonal thing,” he replied with his smooth mountain accent. He popped the caps off our sodas, slipping them coolly into his vest before sliding the bottles with two glasses towards us.

We nursed our drinks as we made small talk with the friendly griff. I was overjoyed to hear that there was a blacksmith in town, and Rose was excited to learn there was a large unicorn population, including the Mayor Prince and his two royal brothers that he governed the town with.

As our hay fries arrived, I asked about the group of ponies that had come up from Hoofstrap Junction, but the bartender simply shrugged. “Don’t recall nothing like that…” He looked me up and down for a second. “If they came inta’ town, they didn’t stop here at the inn.”

I nodded as Rose and I chowed down. These fries were actually really good! The bartender’s gaze lingered on me for a moment as he cautiously spoke, “May I ask you a… personal question?”

“Sure,” I said with a mouthful of fries. “Shoot.”

“What… exactly are you? You look like a griff, but your crown is more mane than feather, an’ your rear legs have hooves… Are you some kind of pony-griffon hybrid?”

I smiled, “I’m a hippogriff.” I raised a back leg and looked at my hoof. “So… you’re basically right, I suppose.”

Having never met another hippogriff, and knowing nothing about my biological parents, I couldn’t do much more than speculate about what I was. I had always assumed that my biological parents were a griffon and a pony.

The bartender returned a smile. “Well… whatever you are, you’re mighty fine, if you don’t mind me saying. I’d love to take a flight with you an’ give you a private tour, if you’d like.” He blushed slightly, and I choked on my mouthful of hay fries.

I swallowed as my coat turned from stone gray to pink. “I-- well, uhh. Thank you!” I stammered. “You’re a… mighty... fine griffon yourself.”

I facehooved internally. Smooth, Storm Mist. Smooth.

Rose just broke out laughing and I excused myself to use the little colt’s room.

* * * * *

After the debacle at The Grotto, Rose decided to get us a room and freshen up on the off chance we ran into any more unicorn princes, while I went to scope out the smithy with the hope that I might be able to establish a relationship with the owner and possibly work out access to use the workshop.

I saw several residents on my way, but once again every pony I tried to talk to refused to speak with me and walked briskly away. Either this town hated outsiders, or something was up...

A familiar heat surrounded me as I stepped through the entrance of the smithy, and I relished the smell of metal and leather. An old unicorn with a planishing hammer for a cutiemark turned and looked at me with wide sunken eyes.

“Oh! Uhm… terribly sorry! I was just closing for the day,” he said as his magic closed the door of the forge.

“That’s okay,” I said with a smile as I looked around the workshop. “Maybe I could help you clean up?”

He looked me over with a pair of old jade eyes. “Well now, there’s something I don’t usually hear from a client. They usually can’t stand the heat for more than a couple minutes.”

I chuckled and slowly walked through the shop, appreciating the vast amount of tools that were set on work surfaces and hanging from hooks on the walls. “I grew up with this heat,” I said. “My father was a smith.” My eyes were drawn to a piece that was mounted high on one wall: a war hammer that shone with polished steel, a richly stained oak handle perfectly fitted into it and reinforced by steel langets.

The old unicorn smiled as he walked over. “You’re a smith’s son!” He raised his gaze to the warhammer on the wall. “And with good taste too. Most ponies just want armor and firearms. There’s not many who appreciate finely crafted tools…”

At once his expression turned from joy to worry as he whispered to me, “Do yourself a favor, son… Get out of Ophir, as soon as you can.”

I looked at the smith. “Why? I was told an entire militia from Hoofstrap Junction came up here and just… disappeared. What’s going on in this town?”

He averted his eyes from my gaze. “I… I can’t say. If the Mayor knew I was talking to you, I--”

“The Mayor?” I asked. “He’s part of whatever is going on here?”

“I… I’ve said too much. Please, just leave Ophir... and carry on our trade,” he whispered. He started to push me towards the door and spoke loudly, “I’m sorry I just can’t help you tonight-- we’re closed! Come back tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do!”

I was shoved out onto the lantern-lit stoop as the door to the smithy closed firmly behind me. Something in this town scared the smith half to death, and somehow the Mayor Prince was involved…

I looked at the buildings lining the street and got the distinct impression that behind every shuttered window and closed blind was a resident silently watching me. I shuddered and shook my head before deciding that it’d probably be best to meet up with Rose and plan our next move.

As I entered the inn, I was greeted by a young colt at the front desk. “Mister Storm Mist?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes?”

“Here’s the key to your room,” he said as he passed me a small key on a lanyard. “Miss Rose asked me to make sure you got it. You’re in room three, upstairs and to the left.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Is she not here?”

“N.. No sir,” he responded with some mild hesitation.

I leveled a stare at the young colt. “Then where is she?”

He coughed and stammered. “Well, uhm... sir, I can’t say…”

“Can’t say... or won’t say?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Well sir, “ he responded, “I cannot divulge private information about one of our guests, even if said guest is staying in the same room… Our mandate clearly states that--”

As he spoke I rapidly lost patience. I was sick of getting stonewalled by the ponies in this town, and I wasn’t about to take it from some snotty nosed runt in a vest. I slowly extended my blade-tipped wings and glowered down at the colt as I spoke in a low, slow tone. “Where… is… Crimson… Rose?”

He gulped, then whispered quickly, “She left a little while ago with Vino Rosé.”

“Who?”

“One of the Mayor’s brothers--”

Fuck.

“Where’d they go?”

“A.. As they were leaving, I heard Vino s-say something about Il Capezzolo del Cavallo. It’s a fancy restaurant in the upper end. Please, sir, don’t hurt me!”

I folded my wings in and smiled at the colt. “Thank you!” I tossed a cap his way, then walked out with the lanyard twirling on the tip of a wing. I was pretty sure I heard the poor kid faint behind me. Hippogriffs can be every bit as scary as unicorn mares when we want to be!

As I approached the restaurant, I was struck by how quiet everything was. The town was easily three times as large as Hoofstrap Junction, but every bit as silent. My hoofsteps echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings as I walked towards the restaurant’s entrance. Just above, a grand neon sign glowed with pale aquamarine italics: “Il Capezzolo del Cavallo”

As I stepped through the front door, I was greeted by an entirely vacant restaurant. The tables were arranged in rows, all with matching chairs that were neatly placed around them. There wasn’t a single sign of activity, nor smell of food. If Rose and Vino had been here, they hadn’t eaten, and they weren’t here now.

I slowly made my way to the back of the dining area and stepped into the kitchen. Again, no sign of anypony here. The counters were clean, food was stocked on the shelf, and pots and pans hung from a rack affixed to the ceiling. This kitchen was immaculate… and it was giving me the creeps.

As I neared the end of a prep table, I discovered a plastic cooler. Shifting the lid, I fully expected to find a severed head or something similarly shocking, but it was filled only with some kind of salted meat. I sighed.

As I turned to look around the corner, my hind leg knocked a soup ladle off the edge of a counter, and it fell to the ground with a resounding clatter that split the tense air. I held my breath.

Damnit! This is the part where a hundred ferals crawl out from under every counter and rip me to pieces.

I heard a banging noise in the distance. Yup, here they come...

But nothing came. I looked around, then picked up the spoon. Out of some kind of strange curiosity, I knocked it against the tile floor. From somewhere in the distance, I heard the sound again: Bang, bang…

I knocked it against the tile again, three times.

Bang, bang, bang…

Oh. That’s a neat trick. “Hello?” I asked the floor.

I walked around to the back of the kitchen and found a door with a latch that had a padlock on it. I gently rapped on the door with the ladle and heard the banging noise again, but closer. It sounded like it was coming from beyond the door.

I threw down the spoon and grabbed my axe. With a quick blow at the proper angle, the entire latch assembly was removed from the door. I eased it open and found a dark wooden stairwell leading down into a cellar that was lit with a dim light. The smell of rotting flesh assaulted my nostrils and I coughed and turned away for a moment. With a sigh, I started down the creaky stairs, quietly swearing to myself with each step.

“Celestia… damned… creepy… ass… kitchen… with… creepy… fucking… stairwells…”

The cellar was made of rough stones patched together with mortar, and as I crept into the first small room, I found the source of the stench: the blood-soaked body of a pony was strewn across a stainless steel table, her chest cut open and several body parts missing, a set of steel knives resting on the table beside her. Behind the table, a section of hide was stretched across the wall, the poor pony’s cutiemark barely visible in the dim light: a jar of orange jam with a tilted spoon. On the floor, a bag of salt sat beside a pail that was overflowing with the mare’s insides.

What kind of sick creature would do this? I couldn’t help myself as I retched up the hay fries from earlier. They weren’t nearly as delicious coming up as they were going down.

A knocking noise from behind a door to my left made me jump, and I readied my axe as I composed myself. With a shout, I kicked open the door and took a step into the room, stopping dead as I stared at the figure across from me.

From the other side of the dark room, a ewe stared back at me with two heads, and two sets of teary eyes. She was chained to a set of pipes that rose from the floor and exited into the ceiling, and both her mouths were gagged. As she saw me, she let out a whimper from one of her heads, while the other reared backwards, knocking against the pipe twice as she looked at me with pleading eyes.

Bang… bang…

Oh… I dropped my axe and rushed forward, untying her gags. “What happened to you?” I asked.

“Cannibals,” she blustered. “They’ve been kidnappin’ anyone who finds out! They took Marmalade and River, and they’ve been killing everyone! There’s a whole damn society of them, and they-- they--”

“Shh,” I said. “Slow down… who did this?”

“The Mayor’s brothers!” she yelled, and a chill went down my spine. “Vino and Ino. They’re the heads of a group that’s been slaughtering ponies and eating them!”

As she spoke, I looked over the chain that was binding her to the pipes. It was a simple small-gauge twisted link chain; should be easy to break. The small sheep began to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey--” I said, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? What’s your name?”

Her breathing calmed and she replied, “Dolly.”

“Alright, Dolly… I’m going to cut the chain, okay? I’m gonna need you to shift over as far as you can, and I’ll hit it with my axe. Got it?”

I received a two-headed nod, and she shifted to the side as I grabbed and raised my axe. “Alright ready? 1… 2… 3!”

I brought the blade down on the chain and with a shower of sparks, it broke apart. Dolly looked herself over to make sure she was still in one piece, then enveloped me in the fluffiest hug I had ever received in my life.

“Alright, alright… you’re welcome,” I choked out, buried in wool. “Now, what can you tell me about the Mayor and his brothers?”

Apparently, the three brothers had shown up out of the blue a few months ago, declared rule over the town and started making improvements. Most townsfolk simply went along with it, because it seemed like things were shaping up for Ophir. Trade was good, buildings were being repaired and upgraded… But then townsfolk started disappearing. One at a time at first, then more. Then two weeks ago a pair of traders came up from Hoofstrap and promptly disappeared as well.

“Sheriff Boot was on their tail for a while,” Dolly said, “but he must’ve got too close. He shared details with a few of us before he disappeared. Each of the brothers specialize in a different type of magic: telekinesis for Ino, manipulation magic for Vino, and Veritas is a master of illusion. Their society is a dozen ponies or more now... Chances are if you’ve run into anyone who seems scared out of their minds, they’re one of us. But anyone who isn’t, well... they may very well be one of them.”

I thought of the blacksmith trying to warn me away from Ophir, then of the suave griffon bartender...

Damn it! Had he been an agent for the Mayor? Was he scoping me out for an easy meal? I left Rose all alone in a hotel with a psychopath cannibal, and now she had been taken...

“Dolly, they took a friend of mine… Do you have any idea where they might’ve taken her?”

She shook her head. “No but--”

We were interrupted by the sound of hoofsteps on the floorboards above us. I raised a talon to my beak in a shushing motion as I took up a flanking position beside the door, then indicated to Dolly that she should stand where she was previously chained.

“Have you escaped, little lamb?” a smooth, melodic voice asked from upstairs. I heard heavy hoofsteps on the creaky stairs, and readied my axe. “Lamb chop,” the voice called from the other side of the door. Dolly’s eyes were wide in terror and I shivered. The door creaked open, and a dark green unicorn stallion entered. “There you are.”

As he stepped through the doorway, I crashed into him from the side, wrapping my forelegs around him in a headlock as I held my axe to his face. “Don’t move an inch,” I snarled.

The unicorn chuckled with his annoyingly melodious voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it! ...What do you want?”

“I want to know where you’re keeping your prisoners.”

“Ah, but it seems you’ve already found my prisoner.”

“Your other prisoners,” I growled, and the unicorn just laughed in my face. “What the hell is so damn funny?” I asked.

“Oh, just thought of something father would say…” He spoke with a sinister tone, and despite being held in a headlock, not a muscle in his body was tense. “Don’t bring an axe to a knife fight.”

All at once, his horn lit up and I felt an icy spear of pain explode in my right shoulder as a steel knife barely missed my head. I screamed out as it buried itself into a section of mortar a foot away from Dolly.

Shit!

I jumped back from the open doorway, and whirled my axe towards the stallion. Another steel knife flew in from the table in the other room and parried the blow. As the stallion stood, a low laugh escaped his lips, and he brushed his black mane away from his eyes. He stood tall and dignified, wearing a bloody patchwork apron adorned with various cutiemarks. The steel knife rotated slowly in front of him, and I guessed that I was looking at Ino, the brother that specialized in telekinesis.

“You know,” he said with his creepy melodic voice, “I haven’t tasted turkey in a long time.” He licked his lips as he looked me up and down and I started to shake with adrenaline and anger. “A very long time.”

I wish I could say that I said something witty, but I just screamed like an idiot and rushed him with my axe. Two more knives from the other room flew in front of the stallion, and parried every attack I threw. Despite unleashing a flurry of blows with my axe, the unicorn's telekinesis was too fast and accurate, and it felt like every move I made was like molasses to him.

The three knives circled menacingly in front of him as he spoke, “Alright, my turn.”

Suddenly, the three blades were all flying directly at my face. I jumped back and swiped at them with my axe, knocking one out of the way, but the other two had changed directions mid-air. One sliced across my foreleg, and the other ripped at the left side of my barding.

I swapped to a one-talon grip and unsheathed my combat knife, holding it in a reverse grip with the blade resting in front of my foreleg.

“Aah, adaptation!” the stallion cheered as the knives returned to their menacing slow circle in front of him. “Very good! Very good… but not good enough.”

He advanced, and knives flew at me from every conceivable angle. I was left completely on the defensive: as I would parry one blade, another would cut at my legs, or slice away at straps on my barding. Within short order, I was backed against a wall, flailing desperately as every exposed part of my hide dripped from bleeding wounds.

The stallion leaned his head in towards me and spoke with a surprisingly minty breath as I continued to parry and block his knives in vain. “And this, little turkey, is why unicorns are superior. A lesson for you to take into the afterlife... before I carve you up and serve you to my beloved guests. Farewell.”

All at once, his knife attacks ceased as he stared at me with wide eyes. For a moment I thought I was dead or hallucinating, until I saw Dolly’s faces, wide with terror. Her hooves were wrapped around the hilt of a knife that was buried deep in the unicorn’s neck, just below his skull.

I kicked the stallion back and swiped at him as hard as I could. Axe met horn and there was a brilliant flash and a sickening crunch as the blow severed the magical appendage from his head. He collapsed to the ground, wide-eyed and bleeding from his neck and horn.

My axe clanged to the floor, and I dropped to my knees, crawling over to the dying stallion. “Where,” I asked as I panted hard, “are the… other... prisoners?”

The green stallion just stared at me with wide eyes as he took several ragged gasps. His horn sparked as he bled out from the wound in his neck, and his breathing slowed.

“Where are the fucking prisoners!?” I screamed at him, tears blurring my vision.

I collapsed on the floor beside him as the life slowly drained from his pale blue eyes and he took his last ragged breath. Dolly quietly watched from the other side of the room and wiped tears from her eyes with a woolly leg.

For several minutes, I just laid on the floor bleeding quietly. Eventually I dragged my ass up, fished around in my bag for a healing potion, chugged it down, and felt my wounds begin to close. They hurt like hell and bled profusely, but were thankfully superficial: I somehow managed to get through the ordeal without any serious damage. My barding, however, was in a sad state, and would need to be repaired.

“Do you have any allies who haven’t been captured?” I asked. Dolly’s gaze remained fixed on the dead stallion. “Dolly!”

Her heads snapped up to look at me as she gave them a shake and blinked hard. “Sorry,” she replied, “yes… there’s still a few of us.”

“Good… we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Infuriating Defense
You fought a unicorn knife fighter and survived! Your ability to dodge or parry melee attacks has increased.

Author's Note

It was really tough to move on from Chapter 3, but I'm glad we were able to go back to Autumn's cabin briefly and wrap things up with her for now. I consider this chapter to be the first half of a two-part arc revolving around Ophir, so a lot of it is setup for the events in Chapter 5. Hopefully it's still enjoyable though!

Once again, thanks to Artimae for assisting with the edit, and to all of you for continuing to read and enjoy Invicta~ Thanks for being awesome! <3

~ Forest Rain