The Whispers of the Stars

by donceluzza

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, Diamond Tiara, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Original Character, Adventure, Derpy Hooves, Main 6
Length: 17891

Former detective Copper must investigate the town of Ponyville to find a missing foal.

(Currently being written by Spectralist)

Copper Coin is writer, a detective, whatever pays the bills for him. When a rich pony asks him to investigate the town of Ponyville for a missing foal with thousands of bits on the line he couldn't say no. But soon his investigation becomes more difficult with an uncooperative townsfolk and a strange church on the edge of town. Copper has to figure out what has become of the town of Ponyville before he suffers the same fate as the foal he was hired to find.

Credit to Ponyknight for the cover-image.

Published 2012-09-06 04:24:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-24 03:08:31 UTC

Just a Job

The Whispers of the Stars
Chapter 1: Just a job

I wake up with a throbbing pain in my head, likely caused by the copious amounts of alcohol consumed the previous night. Ignoring the thumping pain in my skull, I look around to find that I am not actually in my house like I originally thought. The decorative nature of this house clashes with my memory of my rundown apartment.

My ripped white faux-silk curtains have been replaced with red silk ones that draped along the entire window with slight gold trimmings on the ends and have been moved to my left and right. I notice that there is a door directly across from me with a golden doorknob shaped like a pony head. In my home, the door to the bedroom had been removed because it came off its hinges; thus this is not my door.

I examine the bed I am currently resting on which also clashes with my memory of my abode. MY bed, a ‘prince’ size as the mare at the flea market had told me, had white covers with multiple stains from spilled cider. This bed is big enough to fit four ponies at once and while it does have white covers it has a blood red comforter, with gold trimmings on top of the covers. This is definitely not home…so where in Equestria am I?

My natural curiosity as a detective, or rather as a former detective, is sated as I pat around the bed for any possible signs of a possible partner. Finding no pony there brings me great relief. ‘When was the last time this happened?’ I wonder as I pull myself up and bring a hoof to my forehead in futile attempt to suppress the pain of the hangover, ‘oh yeah, last week.’ I look around and see a large dresser with combs, headbands, and curlers resting atop it in front of a large mirror to the right of the door.

Pulling myself out of bed, I trot over to the mirror at the end of the room to analyze my current look. My rust colored coat looked the same as ever and my disheveled silvery mane drooped to the base of his neck. Essentially, I look like a beggar; a particularly nasty beggar. My form does not exactly help matters.

As a child, my thin, lithe form often meant I was mistaken for a filly; now, it makes me look as if I do not eat three square meals a day. Ironically, this is exactly the case. I have reduced myself to eating instant ramen with the very little money I have. My eyes are sad and sagging due to my decision of pulling an all-nighter to finish writing a column for a local paper detailing a recent increase in impotence and clinical depression caused by rampant alcohol abuse, before going out to get hammered.

The door to the room opens to reveal a stallion in his mid-to-late forties, with half spectacles covering his sky-blue eyes. His mane is light blue and is styled in a ponytail, matching his tail. His coat is light brown and he is wearing a stylish tux with a red bowtie ensemble. Any pony would take one look at this stallion and assume he was extremely wealthy; and this assumption would be right on the money.

“Really Rich...” I mumble quietly as he can, given my current predicament.

“Copper, old friend;” Really Rich bellows as he embraces me, “How are you?”

“I’m okay” I answer softly.

“Well, let’s get you fed and get some coffee for that hangover, shall we?” He enthusiastically motions towards the door.

“I just got up, Rich; I need a shower first.” I pause to look at myself again before talking to him again. “By the way, where are my clothes?”

“Your clothes were incredibly dirty so I took the liberty of cleaning them.”

“By ‘you’, you mean your housemaid, don’t you?”

Rich simply laughs and motions down the other side of the hallway outside. “It is the second door on your right. After you are done, meet me downstairs; I have… a business proposition for you.” Really Rich trots off calling for his maid as I slowly make my way for the shower.

Ignoring the layout of the bathroom, I turn to the right to enter the shower. The shower in this place must have run Really Rich a couple hundred bits. It had a golden showerhead shaped like a ponies head with the water coming out of its mouth. ‘Rich ponies have really weird tastes.’ It also has golden knobs with no sign any grime or that the shower had been used at all. ‘I guess cleanliness is important when entertaining.’

As I enjoy the hot shower, one specific thought continues to fester in my mind. I know Really Rich well enough to know that he lives up to his name. The bedroom looked far too extravagant to be a simple guest room; not to mention that there were combs and other essentials already in their implying that the room was used frequently. Though I know Rich from high school, I hardly considered the two of us friendly enough to offer me anything above a basic guest room.

Really Rich had said that he had a business proposition for me. It is most likely something simple like falsifying a column for the paper that would protect Rich’s interests or some minor investigative work. It is most likely one of those jobs stuff that usually involves sending me a letter with money in it. I start using a shampoo with a scent powerful enough to smell the hundred-bit price tag on the bottle. As I use the shampoo, I come to the realization that whatever Rich needs me for he really needed me. Really Rich could not have simply bumped into me, he was expecting me.

After I finish in the shower, I step out and take a fresh towel off the golden rack to my right to dry myself off. I then hang the towel back on the rack and exit the bathroom. I walk downstairs to find a veritable breakfast buffet waiting for me. The table contains toast of various kinds, white, wheat, cinnamon, and various others. To the right of the toast are scrambled eggs, egg whites, veggies in a basket, omelets, not to mention various jams of almost every kind of berry imaginable.

“Old friend, come sit with me we have much to discuss.” Really Rich grabs my attention as he invites me to sit at the table. I am about to sit at the end of the almost yard-long table when the wealthy stallion stops me.

“Copper, why don’t you sit here next to me; what I have to discuss with you is very” he paused for a second “sensitive.” I move to the chair next to him and start to dig into the feast, occasionally stopping to brush my hair out of my face. “We’ll need to get you a haircut as well clearly.” Rich sighs.

“Who are you my mother?” I rudely ask, pausing in my meal, “What job do I have to do that you give me your relative’s room, and tell me I need to look presentable?”

Really Rich’s smile stretches. “Pardon?”

“Rich don’t play dumb with me; that wasn’t a normal guest room. My deduction is that it’s the extra room that you give to other members of the Rich family when they’re staying over for business meetings or golf tournaments or whatever you do.”

My friend chuckles a bit. “Still as sharp as when you got kicked out of the precinct. You are lucky you still have it because you are going to need it.”

I start wolfing down another helping of scrambled eggs when Rich finally tells me what is going on. “I need you to investigate a small border community for me.”

I immediately pause in my meal. “A whole town?”

Really Rich calmly looks around to make sure that nopony dared eavesdrop. “Yes, the town of Ponyville.”

I resume eating as I swallow some more eggs and go for the toast. “What for?”

“Well,” Rich scouts the room again, “My brother, Filthy Rich, lives in that town and well.” He gulps. “His daughter, Diamond Tiara, went missing a week ago.”

“What about police?”

“Ponyville is so small they don’t actually have a police force. Usually, when something happens, many ponies in the town go to help the person currently in trouble.”

“But that didn’t happen this time?”

“Actually, it did but…” Rich pulls some papers and pictures out of a briefcase sitting under the table and spreads them out in front of the two of us. “The investigation seemed, rather odd; it was almost like the town was lifeless. It is rather strange when you consider that a child going missing is a very serious matter.”

The papers that I have been presented with are letters from Filthy Rich and pictures of the town. I pick one up that features a young, bright-pink earth pony with a white and lilac mane and tail, and atop her head was a large tiara.

“That is Diamond Tiara.”

“Really, Rich; I never would have guessed.” I chuckled my own joke, “Ok, so what about the town?”

Really Rich clears his throat, trying to ignore my joke. “Well, it’s a simple farming community for the most part.”

“No, I mean what about the townsfolk seemed off during the investigation?”

“Oh, well they seemed unenthused and gave up the investigation after only two days claiming they had to return to work and to other requirements.”

I stand up. “Look buddy I really don’t think-”

“My brother has a theory,” Really Rich interrupts, “That it has something to do with this.” He passes me another picture. “This building has recently finished construction and it is usually guarded by a few pegasi. They refuse entry to my brother and a few select others in the town.”

“And the townspeople didn’t investigate it?”

“They did, but Filthy Rich wasn’t allowed inside when they were.”

I sit back down and begin pondering as I analyze the photo. The building is archaic in design; black stones form the walls with a large iron gate as its door. There are two large towers, almost like spires, that form out from both sides and another that forms in its back. The picture also features the pegasus guards that Rich had mentioned flying around the spires in a seemingly counter-clockwise pattern. ‘Looks like an alienated military base.’

“I know you’re good on your word; one thousand bits to go and investigate the town for a week. Two thousand bits will be added if you can find Diamond Tiara and another two thousand on top of that if you can also find out who took her.”

I nearly spit out the juice I am drinking. “Five thousand bits; for one little girl?!” I whisper. ‘The pay is pretty good, and I might get even more if I write a story on it when I come back.' “Ok, you have yourself a deal old friend.”

I offer my hoof to Really Rich who shakes it furiously in thanks. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, my friend.” He stuffs the photos and papers into a saddlebag and offered it to me with my newly cleaned and pressed clothes. “Now, let’s just get you a mane-cut and you can catch the 12:30 to Ponyville.”

//////////////////////////////////

I look at my new, short mane and freshly cleaned, white, long-sleeved shirt in the train window; I kind of miss his old look. Pushing aside the sympathy for my old look, I pull out one of the papers from my saddlebags. They are a series of letters from Filthy Rich to Really Rich about the disappearance and subsequent suspect investigation of Diamond Tiara.

I have already taken a look at the pictures, which give me some knowledge of the layout of the town and some of the ponies I should go looking for once I get there. ‘First the mayor, then Applejack, Rarity, and Flyboy, whose respective sisters and daughter had a ‘tense’ relationship with Diamond Tiara. There is Rainbow Dash who is one of the ponies currently working as a guard for that building and from there sees where the evidence takes me.’ I also intend to meet with Filthy Rich as well, but want to do as much investigation as possible first so that I will be up to speed on the case. ‘We’ll look at you almost like you never stopped being a detective.’ I hush my inner voice and start to read the letter that was dated to be from about a week ago.

Dear Really Rich,
The town has been in a tizzy lately, they’ve been building something that Twilight Sparkle calls a church. My daughter actually pretended to be sick today. Can you believe that; my Diamond Tiara trying to skip school? I of course told her she had to go and tried to ask her why she didn’t want to go but she just said that something was wrong. I asked her friend Silver Spoon about it later but even she didn’t know what was bothering poor Diamond. Maybe when I make her favorite vegetable soup tomorrow night she’ll be willing to tell me what’s wrong.
Your Brother, Filthy Rich

‘The letter gives a few bits of information but nothing solid. There is the mention of a pony named Twilight Sparkle I will probably need to talk too. No ponies mentioned a wife yet and references cooking for her. Implied divorced, possibly never married in the first place. The kid finds out, can’t handle it, and runs away.’

That theory is certainly the most plausible one considering that foals run away all the time in Manehatten; but never for a week. If Diamond Tiara did run away she would’ve come back eventually or the town would have found her.

‘Perhaps she ran away to find her mother. Then again, Really Rich would have checked that. He would’ve contacted the mother, asked after Diamond Tiara, and he would’ve sent some pony to her house to check if she said no. The mother could have possibly passed on; it is the most plausible explanation for the mother’s absence. However, it kills the notion of the foal going after her. There is the possibility of foal napping and murder, albeit a small one. Never in all my life did I meet a killer who could hide all of the evidence particularly in a town that small. Some pony would have seen something and investigated.’

I continue to debate over possibilities until I come to one that is both horrifying and, hopefully, impossible. ‘It could be a town wide kidnapping conspiracy; possibly to cover up suspicious behavior of some pony in authority.’ I shake my head furiously. The thought of such a thing is absolutely terrifying.

The train conductor comes into the car to inform the passengers that we are thirty minutes from Ponyville. I pick up the next letter; this one is from five days ago and is marked with an urgent stamp on the top.

Dear Really Rich

It’s been two days now since my little princess didn’t come home but my worries don’t stop there. Many in the family questioned my choice to live out here but truth be told it wasn’t simply to keep an eye on the Apple’s Zap Apple harvest, the ponies here were just so nice. They were kind and welcoming to me and I thought that the same would be true here. The town seems devoid of that kindness and friendship that I moved here for, my little girl’s disappearance doesn’t seem to have registered with anypony. The town was helping me search today but when I requested to help them search they simply told me to stay home, my daughter is out there lost or kidnapped and I’m just supposed to stay home and have tea like nothing is wrong! I might be over thinking this it’s probably just stress besides before going off to deliver this letter Derpy at the least showed some sympathy. Hmm this Derpy might also be a good pony to talk to, if the ponies in this town are actually acting strange than this Derpy seems to be acting independent of them.

Your distraught brother, Filthy Rich

As the second letter closes the plot thickens. ‘This town didn’t seem, from these letters, to be acting all that strange; but if the Rich family is willing to give me a thousand bits just for staying in this town for a week to investigate, then clearly something is up.’ I furrow my brow in thought. As the attendant passes by, I decide to buy some coffee with what few bits I have left to spare. ‘I probably should have asked for some money in advance.’

I sit back with the coffee and ponder why I agreed to do this. “Easy money” was the answer that came quickly into my head, but I could have simply increased my workload at the newspaper. I am going out to the farmland from Manehatten, I am going to bunk at a friend’s brother’s house, and I will not be getting work done because I will be looking for a missing foal.

I read through the next letter, dated from three days ago, rather quickly as it does not establish anything that is not apparent from the previous two letters. ‘This Derpy Hooves was also mentioned as apparently one of the only ‘sane’ ponies in Ponyville according to Filthy Rich.’ I am beginning to suspect Filthy Rich is the conspiracy type. It had been four days since she went missing; small town or not, most police call it after three. The town had only searched for two days but still they did have lives to return to.

I slouch back and start pondering if he was always this heartless. ‘No, if we were on the force we wouldn’t have stopped until ordered.’ I drink the rest of my coffee and call one of the attendants over to ask for a scotch. She quickly gives me one and I pay out my remaining bits. ‘I guess I’m committed now. I can’t even afford a train ride home without Filthy’s help now.’

I pick up the last letter in the saddlebag and I immediately notice that this one has another letter attached to it. This particular ‘letter’ seemed more like an old page from a book. There arre Urgent stamps all over the letter and it does not even start with a ‘dear’ or end with the senders name. ‘Implied hurriedness, possibly due to attempting to make sure it was delivered. It is most likely that the contents of the letter are what scared Really Rich.'

My brother,
I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m frightened. The town seems to be falling further and further from any normality. I attempted to access the Church but was blocked and told that entry was forbidden to any pony but “the believers”. This town has never kept secrets it’s a small community every pony knows every pony else. However I was able find out that there is some weird book that all of the “believers” carry so I attempted to procure my own copy but was mostly unsuccessful. What I did find seems to be some poem of some kind from the book; I’ve enclosed it for reference. Please brother send help, I’m alone. The walls have ears; the floors have eyes, every sound they hear, you can’t run, but you can try.

That last sentence repeats itself to the bottom of the letter. My opinion of the case has suddenly darkened. ‘Repetition of a nursery rhyme-esque phrase implies possible insanity, possibly killed his own daughter.’ I sit back and rip off the book page attached to the letter, placing the letter in my saddlebag. Removing my notebook, I begin writing possible explanations for Diamond Tiara’s disappearance.

‘Number one: Kidnapping/possible murder.'
'Number two: Town wide conspiracy.'
'Number three: Father is insane and killed daughter but hasn’t realized it was him.'

However, looking at the book page seems to disprove the third option.

Life from the innocent flows,
Feeding and nourishing the young foals,
Then and only then will the foals be sated,
And then the stars can be mated,
The darkness then must be cleansed with fire,
Its body then drained and thrown in the mire,
The mire then will brew and bubble,
With eyes however this will muddle,
The walls have ears,
The floors have eyes,
Every soul they hear,
You can’t run but you can try.

This rhyme is sick and twisted, almost sadistic. However, I still do not know what it means. I also notice that the rhyme’s ending was different to the one that Filthy used in his letter by only one word. I cannot help but feel that this is significant in some way. Filthy had the rhyme in front of him; why copy it down wrong? Why copy it down wrong multiple times? I take out the letter again and scan the repetitions for a single time where ‘sound’ and ‘soul’ are switched; there is not one. ‘Why, that one word.'

My pondering comes to an end, however, as the train pulls into the station at Ponyville. I make one last note in his journal. “Sound or Soul?” I take my small bag of belongings and, after stuffing the journal back in my saddlebags, I exit the train and notice something is off about the platform; Filthy Rich is not here.

I didn’t exactly expect a friendly pat on the back and an invitation to the local café, but considering that I agreed to look for his daughter when every pony else has given up, I figured that Filthy would at least meet me here at the station. In fact, no pony seems to be at this station. ‘This seems rather suspicious.’ I think as I look around the rest of the platform. I come to the realization that no pony was at the train station and that he was the only pony to get off at this stop.

I start trotting into town, despite every instinct telling me to turn around and return to Manehatten, as it would be less dangerous. I do not know what it is, but something about this town scared him. It feels like there is an ominous presence I cannot quite understand; a thickness to the air that will not go away. My suspicions begin to frighten me as I walk into the town square to find it completely empty.

‘No pony at the train station or in the town square; this is place feels more like a ghost town.’ I take a deep breath and trot onwards to the Town Hall; hopefully, there I can meet with the mayor. The town hall building is much more extravagant than I expected it would be. It is somewhat calming; something big and loud looking to remind me of Manehatten. I trot through the door with a little more spring to my steps; the initial feeling of isolation from the empty town is now quelled by a familiar sight.

However, the feeling returns when I enter the building and see that there is no pony in here either. 'What is going on here;’ I wonder, ‘It’s not even seven o’clock, and yet there is no pony here!’ I look up at the clock hanging on the wall to see that it reads five forty-five, confirming my suspicion. The inside of the town hall has multiple desks lined up in a circle with a few spaces in between to allow ponies to walk in and out of the circle.

I nod silently to myself and walk towards the big desk marked Mayor Mare. The papers on the desk are neat and orderly, separated into piles of missing pets, misplaced flour shipments, and a single piece of paper off to the right that reads “Diamond Tiara Missing.” ‘I guess it’s worth noting that not many disasters happen in this town.’

I start reading over the town report on the missing foal, which mostly just features places that the town had looked for her and had not found her, a list of places that she could have run off to, and a list of relatives in the nearby area, of which there were none. ‘I suppose that if there was a political conspiracy against a little foal around here, the lack of police would make it easy to cover up.’ I seethe at the unprofessional nature of my mental ‘police’ report. There is no evidence collection, no list of events that lead to her disappearance, nor a list of known suspects.

After fuming at my unprofessionalism, I scan the hallways and see, to my relief, that the coast was indeed still clear as I leave the building. The streets of Ponyville have a haunting atmosphere to them; the lack of ponies going about their business is still perplexing. I decide to go to the library, the residence of Twilight Sparkle, to see if I can find anything about the building called ‘The Church’ at the end of Ponyville.

Upon reaching the library, I hesitantly bring a hoof to the door. “Hello, is any pony home?” I ask, “My name is Copper Coin I’m here to investigate the disappearance of Diamond Tiara.” I knock on the door again, but I receive no answer. ‘No pony in the town square, no pony in the town hall, no pony in the library, including the one who lives there.’ Every thought in my mind screams bloody murder and begs me to leave, but now my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

This town is completely empty; something that is far too suspicious for me to simply ignore. I try to open the door only to find that this one is locked. “Hello, please I would like to speak to miss Twilight Sparkle.” I shout louder. Unfortunately, no pony comes to answer the door, so I decide to leave.

I find myself walking through the market district of Ponyville on my way to this ‘Church’. ‘No pony is here either. The safest guess is that they’re all at this ‘church’ place.’ I continue to walk through the markets, only to see the distinct shadow of a pony ahead of me.

The pony is a gray pegasus with a yellow mane and tail. “Excuse me.” I call out. The gray pegasus looks over m way and flies over to me while smiling.

“Hi there why aren’t you at Church?” she asks.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, you must be new to Ponyville. There is this church thing at the end of town and any pony that’s any pony goes to it every day from five to six except on Sunday.” I immediately pull out my journal and write down the note before continuing my conversation with the yellow-eyed pegasus.

‘Church Mon-Sat 5:00-6:00, everypony in attendance.’

“My apologies ma’am, but I am here to investigate the disappearance of Diamond Tiara; so I am writing down anything that might be important.”

“Oh really; your helping out the Rich family? Well that’s just swell of you; my name’s Derpy. I had been hanging out with Filthy Rich for a while…” she lowers her voice, “until recently.”
I clear my throat before speaking. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you mean by ‘until recently’?”

Derpy sighs. “He hasn’t come out of his house for the last two days. When I went there yesterday, he was all crazy and repeating some phrase or rhyme.”

“The walls have ears, the floors have eyes” I begin.

“Every sound they hear, you can’t run but try.” Derpy finishes as her eyes widen, “You must have gotten the letters I was sending!”

I nod giving my answer as I note once again that she used ‘sound’, not ‘soul’. ‘Is the book page the only place that’s different?’ “Yes his brother, Really Rich, asked for my help. So what can you tell me about Diamond Tiara’s disappearance?” I pull out my journal and pen again as Derpy starts speaking.

“Well, when the town heard she went missing, they rounded every pony up and we all started looking.”

“The entire town searched for her?”

“Oh yes, Ponyville takes these kind of things really seriously. It’s why foals don’t often run off in Ponyville for more than a few hours; they don’t get very far.” A few things that Derpy says jumps out at me and encourage me write them down.

‘Whole town helped in search, foals running away unlikely and a rare occurrence.’

“So we all went looking for her but we didn’t find anything,” Derpy continues, “no clues, no signs, nothing; it’s like she just vanished!”

“What about the Church,” I ask, “in fact why aren’t you there if every pony goes at this time of day?” Derpy reels back from my sudden choice of interrogatory tone. Realizing my mistake, I add “please” in a calmer tone. Derpy calms down and continues.

“Well, I’m not allowed in because I’m not a ‘true believer’ or something; and some ponies did search the church as well.”

“How many ponies are not ‘true believers’?”

“Um, a few I guess. There’s me, Filthy Rich, and I think Rarity isn’t a member.” ‘An additional line of questioning for this Rarity is in order then.’

“Well if you think of any others let me know; I’m going to be staying at Filthy’s place.” Derpy seemed shocked by this idea.

“Well ok, come see me if you need a new place to stay then.” With that, she flies off. I wander down the market, deep in thought over what Derpy had said. Could Filthy Rich really be so far gone?

“Hey, who are you?!” A loud voice overhead pulls me out of my investigative trance. I look up to discover that the voice came from Rainbow Dash.

“I’m new here in Ponyville; my name is Copper Coin. I would like to ask you a few questions if that’s ok with you, miss.” The rainbow-maned pegasus flies down to my level and inspects me.

“Well you seem on the level.”

‘Mental note: thank Really Rich for the haircut and clean clothes.’ “Yes well I was wondering about the recent disappearance of a young filly in this area, Diamond Tiara.”

Rainbow Dash simply stares into my eyes. “Tragedy; we looked for days but never found her. Probably died somewhere in the Everfree forest on the outskirts of town.”

‘Blunt wording and obnoxious tone suggest either knows more than she lets on, or callous mare.’ “Well, I was asked to investigate by Filthy Rich’s brother, so anything you can tell me about the case would be appreciated.”

“I told you everything.”

“That can’t be everything.”

“Why not?”

“You gave me a summary of events and a possible outcome with no evidence to suggest it. What about reasons she might have run off, or ponies that might have a vendetta against her or her family?”

“Are you making accusations, Mister Coin?”

‘Horse apples!’ “Calm down ma’am; I’m not accusing any pony…yet.”

“Well no pony in Ponyville would ever do that to anypony else! So take your accusations, and get lost!!” After making a colorful gesture with her hooves Rainbow flees to the Church on the edge of town.

‘What a coincidence,’ I cannot help but think, ‘that place is my next destination.’ The walk to the Church is largely uneventful, there really are no other ponies around at this time and it is only until I get to the Church that I realize why. Exiting the Church is approximately, if Derpy was correct, everypony in Ponyville. As they all exit, I see the faces of several ponies I have on my list. This includes Mayor Mare, Twilight Sparkle, and Applejack, all amidst a sea of ponies exiting the large stone building.

I waltz up to a pink earth pony in the hopes that maybe I can get a little information on this Church and why every pony attends it. “Excuse me.” The pink earth pony looked in my direction and curtsies.

“Hello, you must be new in town. My name is Pinkie Pie, how may I aid you in becoming accustomed to the town of Ponyville?” I make a few assumptions about this mare from her looks.

‘Consistent coloring of pink body and hair suggest no artificial coloration. She is either some pony that is too poor to do so, or some pony who is satisfied with their current self. Three balloons make up her cutie mark; is she a party planner of some sort? The eccentric poufy mane clashes with down to earth almost store greeter level of enthusiasm.’

“Excuse me sir.” Pinkie Pie interrupts my line of internal questioning, shaking me back to Ponyville.

“Ah yes, my name is Copper Coin; I’m here visiting a friend.”

We shake hooves. “What is the name of your friend?”

“His name is Filthy Rich.” Pinkie’s expression drops slightly, so slightly that I almost missed it.

“I see; well his house is that way. I suppose that if you wish, I could show you the way.”

“That would be lovely Miss Pie. Thank you dearly.”

We do not talk most of the way, because I am trying to find a soft way of approaching the topic of the Church. ‘She’s the first Churchgoer you haven’t ticked off yet. Keep cool and approach the topic, but keep it on a tourist level.' “So it appears that every pony here seemed to be in that building.” I finally say, “What is it exactly?”

Pinkie Pie’s tone and manners return to her bored, storekeeper attitude. “The Church; it’s a Ponyville tradition of sorts.”

‘She’s lying.’ “Really, should I attend the service tomorrow?” A small laugh escapes Pinkie’s smiling stony exterior.

“No, it’s for true believers only.”

“Believers in what?”

“The Stars.” I trail behind Pinkie for a short while to pull out my journal and write down the note next to the church’s time schedule.

‘Believers in the Stars.’

We finally arrive at Filthy Rich’s house. The mere sight of it causes me to start thinking that staying with Derpy would be a much better idea. It was a white, two-story house with a rather disturbing front yard. The grass in front of the house is dead beyond revival, the flowers on both sides of the door are wilting, and the doormat has the words ‘KEEP AWAY’ scrawled on it over the usual ‘welcome’ sign.

The door seems relatively intact but it is the voice that comes from inside that irks me. “GO AWAY!!!” shouted a hoarse voice from inside.

“I’m sorry,” Pinkie whispers “but lately, he doesn’t like guests. If you want, I can escort you to the local inn.”

“No thanks, I have business here. I will find my own way should I need a room.” I nod as Pinkie Pie slowly leaves. After making sure that she is far enough away, I approach the door and knock. “Mister Filthy Rich, my name is Copper Coin. Your brother sent me here to look for Diamond Tiara.” The door opens a crack and a pair of bloodshot eyes urges me to come inside.

The inside of the house is somehow even worse than the outside. The floor is lined with ripped pictures of various ponies in Ponyville. Some are torn in a way to look as if they were decapitated. A picture of a small gray earth pony filly with light gray hair and blue glasses is torn in numerous locations. The house smells like several week old milk jugs and numerous pictures have been ripped from their frames. There is a staircase directly across from me leading upstairs and two doors to my left and right leading to different rooms in the house.

Filthy, really living up to his name now, takes me to a door to the right of the staircase that leads into the basement of his home and turns on the lights to reveal much more disturbing sight. In the basement, on a collection of desks and the wall behind us, are numerous pictures of Diamond Tiara arranged almost like a shrine. From the left portion of the wall and desks are baby pictures that continue to increase in age eventually coming to modern pictures of her on the right side, and a giant puddle of dry tears have formed at the shrine’s base.

“They took her.” Filthy muttered through fresh tears. “They took my princess!”

“Who?” I ask, “Who do think took her?”

“Not who I think,” Filthy responds angrily, “Who I KNOW took her!” Filthy’s eyes are bloodshot and his face is red and stained with tears. “All of them, every single one of them!!”

“What?”

“The Town!!” Filthy urges, “The town stole her form me!! She’s in that hellish Church, I just know she is!!”

“Really; the townsfolk seemed rather pleasant to me.”

Filthy chuckled “That’s how they seemed to me all my blasted life.” He stares into my eyes “Then they struck! They struck and they took her probably k- ki- k-” Filthy falls into a fit of tears.

“Killed her.?” I finish quietly, “You think they killed her?” I stand back to make sure the door is in sprinting range. “What gives you the impression that she’s dead?”

Filthy stops crying and brings his head up to me. “I know.”

“I don’t understand, why do you think that she’s dead?”

“Are you interrogating me?!” Filthy’s face contorts with anger, “You ARE interrogating me!!” His voice begins to rise as he starts towards me causing me to back up the stairs.

“I-I’m just asking questions.”

“You, you’re with them aren’t you?!”

“What?”

“The town, that Church from Hell; they sent you to cover up their wrongdoing!!”

“M-Mister Rich you’ve got it all wrong, I’m simply asking a question.”

I back out of the cellar with Filthy climbing up the stairs now fuming and screaming, “MY DAUGHTER WAS KILLED BY THOSE DEMONS!!! HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME!!!!”

“Mister Rich, please calm down.”

“I’LL KILL YOU!!! I’LL GET HER-” Filthy does not have time to finish as I instinctively push him down the stairs and send him crashing into the shrine. As Filthy started to get up, I close the door to the cellar and run out of the house stopping just long enough to grab the torn-up picture of the gray filly.

After escaping Filthy’s home, I run back into town. According to the clock at town hall it is around six-thirty.

“Mister Copper, are you ok?” I turn around to see Derpy staring back at me.

“I…I went to see Filthy Rich.”

“Oh.” Derpy’s face drops; clearly she had similar experiences. Derpy then puts on the best cheerful disposition she can. “Why don’t you stay the night with me? I’ll make you some muffins and then, maybe in the morning, Filthy will be less grumpy.”

“Thank you very much, Derpy!” I follow the cross-eyed pegasus home. Her house is a simple, one-story cottage suitable for two. We walk in the front door to see a blue living room. The couch is up against the left wall with a coffee table in front of it and a fireplace on the right wall. The wall at the end of the room opens up to the kitchen. There are doors at the back of both walls and one to my right. I immediately make myself comfortable on her couch. After a while, Derpy brings me a muffin and some extra covers.

“Here is a muffin in case you get hungry the bathroom is through that door near the entrance if you ever need to use it. Good night, Mister Coin!” she says cheerfully as she trots towards the door near the kitchen.

“Good Night, Ms. Hooves. Thank you for the muffin and the couch.” Derpy laughs as she closes the door to her room and leaves me alone with my thoughts. ‘Tomorrow’s day one of seven, will I really last that long here? The idea of finding Diamond Tiara seems less likely than when I first arrived. Her father being the killer is also more likely, considering the shrine.’ I pull out my journal and make three separate columns for each of my three theories.

‘Number One: kidnapping/murder’

So far, I have not seen any pony with too much of a disposition to be a heartless killer. Rainbow Dash is the only pony here that seems even remotely rude. Rainbow Dash did seem rude but a killer, probably not. Her suggestion about the Everfree Forest might actually be worth investigating.

‘Investigate Everfree.’

I wonder if there was any other pony that could be a killer. ‘Pinkie Pie did seem awfully distant and almost sociopathic. She was shaken slightly though when I mentioned I needed to see Filthy Rich.’ I write her name and Rainbow Dash’s down in the column writing ‘unlikely’ next to Rainbow Dash and ‘possible sociopath’ next to Pinkie Pie.

‘Number Two: Town wide conspiracy.’

With the knowledge from Derpy that most of the ponies in town attend this Church thing, it’s slightly more possible than before.

‘Number Three: Murder by Filthy Rich himself.’

This theory is the one that worries me the most. The possibility of his involvement is both shaken and reinforced by his behavior. On the one hoof, he doesn’t seem to know anything about it. On the other, he does seem clinically insane. I decided that I can find out more tomorrow as I need my rest. I pull the extra covers over myself and let the sounds of the night through the open window drift me to sleep.

End of Chapter 1

Day One (Part one): The chanting

Whispers of the Stars
Chapter 2: Day One (The Chanting)

I wake up in a small glen with lilacs surrounding me. With a cursory glance to the left and right I find that I am alone. ‘Where is every pony?’ I get to my hooves and analyze my surroundings closely. The trees around me are clustered closer than trees should be; each tree’s bark is touching the one next to it. The forest itself is extremely dark with only enough light to see at least three yards ahead. The only way for me to go is forward, deeper into the strange forest.
I silently wander through the only opening in the tree blockade and start walking down the path. Suddenly, I start to hear a strange and creepy voice. “Tickety, Tickety, Tockary, Tockary.” The voice chants in a repetitive fashion and continues to do so as I trot down the narrow path.

The trees are still clumped together, compelling me to continue forward like a hallway made of trees. I continue to walk through the seemingly endless hall of trees as I start to feel a strange presence drawing closer to me.

Finally, I see the outline of a pony in the distance. I run to the source of the shadow, happy to see another pony in this isolated forest. Unfortunately, I get close enough to see it is actually a pony’s head, burnt to a crisp and floating in midair. What is more horrifying, though, is what it is saying.

“Tickety, Tickety, Tockary, Tockary; when finally they see, around I will be; and for the fillies and foals, then the final bell tolls.”

My confusion turns to anger as the chanting continues to repeat without end.

“Tickety, Tickety, Tockary, Tockary; when finally they see, around I will be; and for the fillies and foals, then the final bell tolls.”

“Shut up!” I yell.

“Tickety, Tickety, Tockary, Tockary; when finally they see, around I will be; and for the fillies and foals, then the final bell tolls.”

“Shut up, now!”

“Tickety, Tickety, Tockary, Tockary; when finally they see, around I will be; and for the fillies and foals, then the final bell tolls.”

“ENOUGH!”

“Tickety, Tickety, Tockary, Tockary; when finally they see, around I will be; and for the fillies and foals, then the final bell tolls.”

I have had enough; I run forward and try to attack the floating head. As I grow closer to the head, it dissipates into dust in the wind. As I reach the place where the head had been, I find myself in another open field. This time, however, there are five available pathways through the trees to go enter. ‘What the hay is going on?’ The thought is cut short by a horrible howling screech cutting through the forest.

I turn to face the source of the screech to see the outline of a pony head. I raise an eyebrow at the outline, but there is one thing attached to the ‘pony’ that steps into the light and causes my breath to get caught in my throat; a spider leg.

Without hesitation, I turn back around and run down the left-most pathway hoping to outrun the monster. I gallop down the path as fast as my legs can carry me, but I cannot seem outrun the beast following close behind me. Another screech pierces the night air pushing me forward. As I continue to run, I pass by another pony. The pony is a young foal, probably female, whose coat color I cannot make out.

“NO, DON’T GO THAT WAY!!!” I call after her, but she does not seem to hear me, nor does she see the monster that she is slowly approaching. Once she is right in front of it, the monster screeches, stopping the filly cold. The creature raises one large spider limb and brings it down on the filly with a sickening crack. I cringe and look away from the disturbing sight as it smashes the filly repeatedly and her screams join the screeches of the monster in a chorus that filled the night air.

Realizing it is too late to save the filly from the haunting monstrosity, and that I have no way of fighting it, I run back down the path releasing the breath I had not realized I had been holding; regrettably leaving the half-eaten filly to her fate. The sounds of the creature catching back up to me echo through the narrow path. ‘Eating a little filly didn’t even slow it down!’ I dash forward pushing through the forest despite the burning sensation in my legs and chest. However, the farther I go, the more the horrifying creature grows in speed as if it is impossible to outrun this demonic predator.

Finally, I reach the end of the corridor of trees. The first thing I see is the filly I thought had been eaten. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out of her mouth.

“Come on, I’m getting you out of here!” I grab the filly and throw her on my back before picking up the pace again just in time to hear the familiar screech of the monster behind me. The filly once again tries to speak, but is unable to do so. Suddenly, the light that had previously surrounded me begins to fade. I turn to the filly on my back that is still trying desperately to speak. I shake my head and turn around again, but she still cannot make out any words. Then, all at once, the screech of the monster fills the air and the light around me fades.

“Watch out!”

The filly’s warning comes too late as I run straight off of a cliff and begin to tumble down its side. I try to pull myself along the cliff wall to slow the descent as I bang myself against the side rolling down the hill. The painful fall seems to take forever, but eventually, I land on flat ground. I cough the dust out of his throat and force myself up, ignoring the screams of my aching body. The filly is lying on the ground next to me, unmoving. Blood stains her coat and she has tears in her skin in several places. ‘Oh no, I forgot she was on my back! This must have happened when I was trying to slow the fall.’ I mutter a prayer to Celestia for the filly and decide to move forward.

‘There’s no way that ‘thing’ is real; it’s not possible!’ I think, trying to convince myself this just a dream. I slowly wander through the thick forest eventually stumbling across a small wooden cabin. The cabin is a traditional log built cabin with two windows in front. Flickering light emanates from the windows, implying a fireplace inside. I stop in my tracks to stare at the cabin. ‘Why is this out here?’ I wonder, ‘Even if this is a dream, where would I have seen that to make it in my dream? For that matter, who was that filly?' I stand there debating the merits and demerits of going in the cabin, but a familiar piercing screech through the forest makes the decision for me.

I burst into the cabin to be greeted by a warm welcoming atmosphere. A fireplace was lightly burning at the end of the room with several empty rocking chairs surrounding it. A loud whistling from the kitchen, the room to the left of the fireplace, signals tea is ready. In the far right corner, on a table, is a record playing a light orchestral theme that softly fills the cabin. I feel as though I have been here before but I cannot remember when or where it was. In the kitchen, to the left of the fireplace, there is a small glass of wine sitting on the table in the center of the room. I know I should be smart enough to not drink liquids in a strange house that I essentially broke into, but my dry throat insists I take a drink.

As I consume the liquid, the world around him seems to change. The soft beautiful instrumental song on the record player becomes dark and loud. The fire in the fireplace goes out and all of the sudden, the cabin becomes a lot colder. The rocking chairs that have been welcoming before are now tipped on their sides and riddled with bullet holes. I hear sounds from the basement, indistinct sounds that seemingly do not sound like anything. Outside, amidst the howling wind and blasting music, the creature’s screech is still audible.

I stumble towards the basement stairs, located to wall right of the kitchen entrance, wondering if the strange wine is the cause of this. My vision is fine, but I can barely put one hoof in front of the other without stumbling. It feels as if my hooves are made of iron and I am underwater. My breathing starts to fall short as well as it gets very difficult to breathe. I keep moving slowly towards the basement stairs trying to ignore my body’s suffering. Once I reach them, I manage to take one step before falling down the stairs.

After I regain my composure, I looked up to see that I am now trapped on all sides by what seems to be a metal box. There is only one small barred opening, like a dungeon window, in the front of the box. Through that window, I see a strange room made of stone with a staircase leading upwards in the front-left corner and a window on the right wall pouring light into the room. The room lacks any furniture whatsoever aside from a rectangular wooden table against the front wall and a small bed in the front-right corner where I see the small filly again.

With the better lighting of this place, I can see some static apparition obscuring the filly’s face and her colors seem blurred. The only thing that is clearly visible is the filly’s cutie mark; it is a pony being stabbed by a knife. I try shouting out to her, but no words came out of my mouth when I shout.

“Tickety, Tickety.”

‘Oh Celestia, that can’t be…’ but sure enough, the pony that walks down the stairs, and up to the sleeping filly on a small bed, was Rudy Mentary. Rudy was a criminal from my past life as a cop; a former teacher that went on a killing spree. The music from upstairs only seems to get even louder, but that does not stop Rudy from reciting his rhyme.

“Tockary, Tockary.”

“Stop; leave her alone you sick freak!!” I shout as loud as I can but Rudy ignores me and keeps going.

“When finally they see.”

“Stop; Rudy, stop!!”

“Around I will be.”

Rudy picks up a large carving knife from the table and sticks it between the filly’s ribs. As he stabs the poor filly, the music in the cabin starts to change. The filly’s eyes are now visible; they are a soft white with tears streaming down her face.

“LET HER GO!!!”

“Save me.” she cries.

Those words sting in my chest. I am completely useless in this box; useless to stop Rudy from doing what he did best.

“And for the fillies and foals.”

Rudy turns to me with a dangerous glint in his eyes. For just a moment, our eyes met and Rudy acknowledges my presence in his cabin. ‘That’s right, I was here. This is where I captured Rudy!’ My instincts kick in and I realize what I need to do.

“Alright Rudy, you’ve got me, so let her go. You want to kill me don’t you? That’s all you could talk about in jail.” Rudy seems to listen at the suggestion of killing me. When I had Rudy arrested, for the two days that it took to get him processed and sent to a more secure facility in Canterlot, Rudy would mutter all the terrible things that he would do to me once he got the chance.

However, Rudy walks over to the the table and place a pile of school supplies on it. I never really knew what the things that Rudy used were supposed to be called. They were the graph helpers where one end was a fine point and the other would hold a filly’s pencil to help them trace. This one, the one’s Rudy is keeping, has all sharp edges.

“No, Rudy.”

Rudy stabs the V-shaped tracer into the filly’s eyes, his trademark, before picking up his carving knife again.

“Then the final bell tolls.”

He slits the filly’s throat as she screams for mercy, in pain, screaming for help.

“Save me!”

Those are her last words; the last words of Rudy’s final victim as well, the other one that I couldn’t save. Tears mixed with blood stream down her face as she drifts away. Then Rudy turned his attention to me again as the room’s temperature seems to increase. Rudy’s eyes now seem sad and distant as if he is suddenly out of it.

The shadow of the creature appears behind Rudy; its eye sockets stare at the dead filly on Rudy’s bed. Rudy begins uttering some incoherent nonsense at the monster; his voice straining as he holds back tears. Without warning, the heat in the room increases again to the point where I can feel the sweat filtering down my brow. The monster does not seem interested in killing Rudy; it just simply watches him beg for his life in some foreign tongue.

My hooves started to feel like I am standing on a hot plate. I look around to see that the box I am stuck in is the same, but it still feels like it is getting hotter. The monster stops looking at Rudy as it stares in my direction and lets out a terrible screech. My hooves are burning with pain as I try to lift my hooves off the searing ground. I slip and fall on my backside feeling my coat burn and singe.

“Help, some pony, save…” the words get caught in my throat. I look to see that the filly is no longer on the bed where she was prior. I look around from my searing cell, but I still cannot locate her. What I do see, however, is that my cutie mark has been replaced with the little filly’s cutie mark; the pony being stabbed with a knife.

I try to bang on the front part of his cell with my front hooves, but the front of the cell is just as hot. Regardless, I keep banging on the cell, screaming as my coat catches fire in several places.

“Help me, please, some pony help me!!!”

Rudy then turns to face me; his eyes tear stained and bloodshot. “I’m a respected professor, I could have had tenure, I graduated top of my classes. Why don’t they sit down and shut up?!” He growls those last words as he keeps staring at me. By now, I am unable to breathe, but I continue to bang on the cell with what little strength I had left. My lungs are full of smoke and my coat is burning; the only thing keeping me from rolling around screaming is my natural survival instinct.

“They just kept talking and talking, why don’t any of them respect me? They should be respecting me… hay they should FEAR me!!” Rudy continues to recite the last monologue he kept reciting all the way to the high security prison in Canterlot. “All I wanted was respect.” he starts to cry again, “All I wanted was a small taste of respect, but they wouldn’t listen so I MADE them listen!!”

The music from earlier picks up in intensity and continues to replay over and over again. I begin to slump down as the last of my strength leaves my body. Finally, the door opens, landing me in the same room as the monster and Rudy.

“Surely Celestia should understand what it means to require a little recognition every now and then. I’m sure if you send her a message she’ll let me go; just let me talk to her.”

I can barely keep my eyes open as the pain of nearly being burned alive continues to surge though my body. The monster circles me, but seems to be less interested than before. Rudy suddenly starts cowering in the corner where the bed is located and screams loudly.

“DON’T, DON’T KILL ME PLEASE.” Rudy keeps shouting over and over, “DON’T KILL ME.” Rudy starts to shake in fear of the specter that apparently approaches him. “DON’T KILL ME *screeeeeee!!!* PLEASE.” I am unable to hear the name; it is almost as if the creature’s voice specifically drowns out that one word. “PLEASE DON’T KILL ME *screee!!* I’LL DO ANYTHING PLEASE *screeeee!!*.” Suddenly a loud bang rings through the air and a large bullet hole appears on Rudy’s face in between his eyes.

Rudy now lays motionless on the floor, eyes wide open in fear, bleeding. The nearby monster now stands atop of me. The monster’s mouth seems to be underneath it as I hear a growl from above me. It bites into my hind legs as I feel sharp, sword-like teeth impale them, causing me to scream in more pain than before. The best I can manage, though, is a slight squeak as most of the air is already gone from my lungs. The blurred outline of Rudy is now upright and standing right next to me with the gunshot wound still in the center of his head and dripping blood onto my face.

“Life from the innocent flows and flows; feeding and nourishing the young foals.”

Another crunch and shot of pain tells me that the monster is still trying to devour me.

“Then and only then will the foals be sated; and then can the Stars be mated.”

“What…” is all I can manage between the current pain of being eaten alive and the fact that my lungs still have not recovered from the smoke inhalation.

“The Darkness then must be cleansed with fire; its body then drained and thrown in the mire; The mire then will brew and bubble; with eyes however this will muddle.”

I see darkness around the corners of my blurry vision. My life is ending; the pain is real, the fire was real, all of this is real. As darkness overtakes my vision, all I can hear is Rudy repeating one phrase in a singsong voice over and over again.

“The walls have ears, the floors have eyes, every sound they hear, you can’t run but you can try.”

I hear one last sickening crunch punctuate the words of the haunting rhyme as I suddenly hear two familiar words.

“Save me.”

////////////\\\\\\

I awaken with a scream, covered in sweat. I find myself back in Derpy’s house on her couch, and that I have not been eaten. My breathing is ragged, my mane is a mess, but there are no scorch marks on my coat where I could have sworn I was burned alive.

“Oh goodness, are you ok?” Derpy appears in front of me floating upside down.

“Yes, Miss Derpy; it was just a nightmare.”

Derpy lands and stomps her hoof, “That was not ‘just a nightmare’ you were screaming out like you were in pain!”

I pull myself out of the makeshift bed. The covers I have been sleeping in are now just as coated in sweat as I am.

“Look, I need a shower, so if I may…”

“Alright, clean yourself up. I’ll make muffins, then over breakfast you’ll tell me what’s wrong mister.”

Derpy flies over to the kitchen area, ‘She’d make a great mother.’ I slowly walk into the bathroom and step into the shower to the right. As I put shampoo in my mane, my thoughts drift to the nightmare. Something tells me it is important, but nothing in it made sense. The monster, the cage, the fire, the weird cutie mark, none of it made sense.

It is not like I have never had nightmares about the ponies I could not save; I have been a cop for years before being kicked out. However, I have not had a nightmare for years about Rudy. Ever since I started drinking, Rudy had not really popped into my head. ‘Was there a reason that Rudy popped into my head? Is it because of the missing foal?’

I think back to the night that I had captured Rudy. Once we had gotten to the basement Rudy had already killed the latest victim, a pony by the name of Star Light. However, the pony in the dream could not have been her because of the eyes. The eyes, the only part of the filly I managed to get a decent look at. They were white, whereas Star Light had blue eyes. ‘Not a mistake one’s subconscious makes often.’ Once I finish my shower and dry myself off with a fresh towel hanging to the right of the shower, I trot back to the kitchen where Derpy is waiting with a plate of muffins and a stern look on her face.

“May I?” I ask, pointing at the muffins.

“Of course, just remember muffin or no you’re telling me what had you so spooked last night.”

I chuckle a bit. ‘She is definitely the motherly type.’ I think as I sit down at the round wooden table and grab a muffin from the plate taking a bite. ‘She is a really good chef, too.’ The muffin is perfectly sized, perfectly flaky, and it has exactly the amount of sponginess that I have always wanted out of a muffin; perfect. “This is very good Madam.”

“Thanks, but you can call me Derpy, now about your nightmare.” Derpy bites into a muffin that s sitting in front of her as well, “I’ve seen ponies have nightmares before but you looked like you almost died.”

“That’s because I did, in the dream I mean, but that wasn’t all.” Derpy looks at me, expecting an answer. “I once was a cop, years ago back in Manehatten. I think that is the reason that Filthy’s brother asked me to come here.” I let out a sigh, “Back when I was a cop, there were a string of murders in Manehatten; school kids, all of them.” Derpy’s face contorts with shock, “The killer was pretty smart, and he didn’t leave many clues, except for his calling card. He stuck some kind of tracing device for math classes and such into the kids eyes, aside from that their throats were slit after they had been stabbed repeatedly.”

“How could some pony do all that, to a child no less?!”

“Things are different out there in the big city, the lawless make the laws, and the ones who run the firehouse start the fires.”

“I’m glad I live in Ponyville then, geez.”

“I saw that killer in my dream last night; he was with some young filly but I couldn’t make out who she was. There was also this monster…” I shudder as I remember the terrifying visage of the beast, “This creature had been chasing me, and in the end it caught up with me, and ate me alive.”

Derpy flies over to my side of the table and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “You must have been scared; but you know, sometimes our dreams have ways of telling us things. Things that maybe we would rather not hear.” Derpy looks over at the clock on her wall. “Oh dear, I should get going. I have to go to work but you can stay here for a while longer; you know, if Filthy is still being mean today.” With that Derpy, gives me a smile and leaves the house flying off somewhere.

After finishing another couple of muffins I pull out my journal and place it on the table. ‘Derpy might be on to something when it comes to the whole dream thing.’ There are still a few things that bother me about the dream. The first is the creature itself. ‘If dreams are supposed to be a look into our subconscious then what does that thing represent?’ I write down a basic drawing of the monster in my journal, writing ‘spider-pony’, next to it before placing it in my bag again.

The really odd thing about the dream last night was Rudy mentioning that familiar rhyme again. ‘Not only that, but he said it the way that Filthy did, with ‘sound’ not ‘soul’. Why would my dream remember it wrong, or is it wrong?’ These questions fill my mind as more of the dream fills my memories; the song that played when I entered the basement, the monster not eating Rudy, Rudy’s strange gibbering in what sounded like a foreign language. In fact, why can I remember the whole dream seemingly without issue? Usually, one would be hard pressed to remember small sections of a dream, let alone the entire thing cover to cover.

This is beginning to scare me. The dream was bad enough, but now I am actively thinking about it far too much. I start searching Derpy’s kitchen for liquor; drinking has always seemed to help me whenever I start to think too much. I do not see anything in any obvious place in the kitchen. ‘She must keep SOMETHING hidden.’ I search high and low throughout the kitchen, but I cannot find any signs of cider, wine, hard liquor or any such thing. ‘Can she seriously not have any?’

I am just about to give up when I find a bottle of cheap whiskey wedged in-between some flour and other baking supplies. With the simple thought, ‘Perhaps I can pay her back later.’ I take a sip of the whiskey from the bottle and immediately start to feel better. The sweet sting of the whiskey is slowly eroding the horrid memories of the previous night as it flows down my throat; the monster, the filly, my own immolation and death, all gone.

I immediately stop drinking the previously full bottle as I remember what I was hired to do in the first place. ‘I do have to look into that filly’s disappearance.’ I put the bottle back on the counter with a good amount still in the bottle. I did not drink much of the whiskey, but it is still enough for me to lose my balance every now and then. I weakly walk out of Derpy’s house and stumble outside into the warm glowing day.

Day One (Part two): The town

Whispers of the Stars
Chapter 3: Day One: The Town

Afternoon of Day 1

Only 156 hours left

I awkwardly stumble through Ponyville and into the marketplace. My first line of questioning is for the pink mare I met yesterday, Pinkie Pie. I remember how she lied about how the Church was a Ponyville tradition yesterday. “Knowing that, she’ll be useful in establishing how bad this town really is.” I mumble. Usually I keep these thoughts in my head, but in a semi-drunken state, it is hard to make any distinction between things I should say, and things I should not.

My mumbling seems to draw the attention of the locals, not that he cared. One of the stands I come across is an apple stand run by Applejack, another mare I need to see.

“Excuse me, Miss Applejack.” I call to her. Applejack responds in a visibly annoyed tone.

“Yes mister, if y’all’re looking fer booze yah ain’t gonna find none here.”

I chuckle drunkenly. “Every pony always assumes that a drunken stallion is looking for more alcohol.” I saunter up and tut several times, “Kind of insulting, don’t yah think pardner.”

Applejack’s jaw visibly tightens. “If you are looking for apples…” she states, losing the accent.

“No need to drop the country belle accent on my account milady, I was just teasing. I figured you’d appreciate it more than the obvious, ‘you must get the booze jokes often’ line.” I hold out a hoof to shake, “Name’s Copper, Copper Coin. I’m detective from Manehatten.”

“Ah visited there once, didn’t care for it none.”

“She’s a great city, full of stallions in uniform like me.” I puff out my chest jokingly, “Albeit I’m not nearly as in shape as you are.” I put an elbow on the table and stare at her with a smirk, “I imagine that you have beat off a lot of stallions with a stick.”

Applejack shoves me off of her cart. “Either buy some apples or beat it!”

“Ok, Ok, no need to break out the finely toned weapons; I’m just looking for some pony.”

“What’d you say?!”

“I said I’m looking for some pony mi amore, a pony named…” Before I can finish, Applejack punches me square in the jaw. This would have knocked any normal pony out, but with my stamina combined with my semi-drunken state, it just causes me to swear a few times.

“Ok, I’ll ask some pony a little less, erg,” I look at her legs one last time and then back at her steamed face, “hot-blooded.”

I rush away before the angry farmer can punch a hole through me. My drunken visage and obnoxious flirtation jokes earn me silence from many of the mares that set up shop in the markets. I shuffled up to a table selling carrots run by a mare with a bright orange mane.

“Hallo my sweet carrot vendor I have an inquiry for you.”

The carrot vendor rolled her eyes, “What, no ‘wanna see my carrot’ jokes?”

“The night is still young.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

I look up to the sky. “Oh right, I forgot. So anyway, I’m looking for a mare by the name of Pinkie Pie.”

“I don’t know where she would be at this time of day.” the annoyed vendor answers.

“Oh come on, um, Crunchy?”

“Crunchy?”

“Well, yeah; carrots are crunchy right, or am I thinking of lettuce?” I start to chuckle nervously, “This is embarrassing.”

“My name is Golden Harvest, and I’m serious I don’t know where she is.”

“But this is a tightly knit cult community.”

“Excuse me, ‘cult’?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh come on, the church, and the ‘tradition’.” I raise my hooves in a quotation mark gesture on the last word, “You people are some weird anti-Celestia cult. I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that Goldy.”

“Don’t call me Goldy, and we are not a cult!”

“But you are anti-Celestia, are you not?” Golden’s face blanched, “I’m sorry about that Goldy, I was just kidding.”

“Right, well I honestly don’t know where Pinkie Pie is.”

“Well then do you know of some pony else who might know where she is?”

A cyan mare comes from behind me and grabs me by the shoulder. “What seems to be the problem Golden?” Rainbow Dash pulls my to face her, “this little twerp giving you trouble?”

“Oh please;” Copper scoffed, “I’m just scouting around for some info Rainbow Smash.”

“What’d you call me?” She pulls my face closer to hers. She growls and stares knives into my soul.

“I said I’m just scouting around for some info.” I answer, “I want to talk to Pinkie Pie, there are a few inconsistencies with her story from yesterday that I want to check out.”

“Rainbow Dash, don’t.” Golden whispers to the cyan pegasus.

“Yes, Rainbow Dork, ‘don’t’.”

Dash’s eyes flash with rage before calming down, “You’re drunk.”

“Sorta, why, Ponyville doesn’t like drunks either?”

Rainbow Dash laughs and puts her hoof around me while she starts leading me away from Golden Harvest. “You know you’re a funny guy Copper; not many ponies have the guts to call me ‘Rainbow Smash’.”

“Wait, THAT’S what ticked you off?” I stop to spit on the ground, “Shoot, I wasted a good line like ‘Rainbow Dork’ when I could’ve just said ‘heya Smash’.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you Cop?”

“Not really, yesterday you were all stubborn to me when I was just asking questions.”

Rainbow sighs. “Listen, I’m just a little…” she paused, “protective of Ponyville.” She stops me near an alleyway packed with crates. “You were trying to accuse Ponyville of some kind of ‘conspiracy’ that ended the life of Diamond Tiara; you’ll scare ponies doing something like that.”

I hold back my laughter. “You know, Filthy thought the same thing. He thought that ‘the town killed my baby’.” I punctuate the statement with some fake crying. “Personally I think that’s nuts. If this filly was killed, it was a lone psycho, not some conspiratorial effort.”

Rainbow laughs with me, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She laughs a little more while glancing back towards the markets.

“Well, I need to talk to Pinkie Pie,” I tell the rainbow mare, getting back on topic, “again just for clarification on a few things she said yesterday.”

Rainbow nods, “I understand. Well, I think that you’ll find what you’re looking for near the edge of town.” she points out near the entrance to the Everfree Forest, “Around there, you’ll find a bar; she might be there.”

I nod in agreement. “Well, I suppose that it’s worth a look. I think that some of the mares here will be happy I went somewhere else for a while.”

“Yeah just check it out, it’s called Hop’ Scotch.” She prods me in the side, “And on an unprofessional note, you should try out the house special, ‘Hopping Mad’.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

I leave the alleyway and start walking down the path that Rainbow pointed out. I take one look back towards the markets where Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Golden Harvest are talking and looking back in my direction.

///////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

I continue down the path until I reach the edge of Ponyville. The entrance to the Everfree Forest is creepy and therefore, pretty empty. A small cottage, the forest itself, and the bar that Rainbow Dash had mentioned are the only signs of life present for quite a ways. Based on my research the cottage was supposedly an animal shelter/vet run by a pony named Fluttershy.

However, the place looks like it had seen better days. The doors and windows are boarded up, the garden around the cottage has wilted, and even the chicken coop is completely destroyed. The bar nearby looks even seedier than the seediest bar in Manehatten; the name, the wood looks old and rain-worn, the sign hangs limp from one chain as the other has been rusted off.

I semi-drunkenly trot into the bar grabbing the attention of the patrons. “Alright, I’m looking for a pony by the name of Pinkie Pie, and I ain’t going to stop until I find her.” A few patrons snicker to themselves uttering ‘I think someone had a few too many’ to each other. “Alright, now that I have your attention, I was told that Pinkie Pie could be found in this bar.” Many more started laughing at him, “Now where is Pinkie Pie?”

A large earth pony stallion with a bright red coat started to walks up to me. The pony has a sliced open green apple for a cutie mark, and is also the biggest stallion I have ever seen. “I’m sorry for my friend’s rudeness.” He says in a deep booming voice while motioning to the other patrons. Those that the stallion motion, silence their laughter. “Pinkie Pie doesn’t usually come around these parts; she usually stays closer to the center of town.”

“Curses, that blasted pegasus lied to me.” I scuff my hooves along the ground and curse.

The red stallion chuckles, although it sounds like a mountain if it could laugh. “Relax; I’m sure that you’ll run into her eventually, not exactly a big town.” He wraps his considerably large hoof around me. “The name’s Macintosh, Big Macintosh.”

“I’m Copper Coin, ex-detective; currently employed as a writer for a magazine in Manehatten.”
“Well mister Coin, allow us.” He motions to the rest of the room, “To give you a warm Ponyville welcome, first round will be on me.”

I let out a wild whoop and sit down at the bar. As I take a seat, Big Macintosh walks over to a karaoke machine in the back of the room and turns it on. I instantly recognize the guitar pickings from the song. Big Macintosh grabs the microphone and begins to sing.

“There must be some way out of here.” Big Macintosh began.

“Said the Joker to the thief,” I mutter.

“Said the Joker to the thief,” It suddenly strikes me that it is the same song from the dream. I continue to listen to Big Macintosh croon along to the lyrics of the song that played in my dream. I shake his head, trying to push away the thoughts of last night’s dream.

I start to sift through my saddlebag, looking for my wallet. I sift my hoof through the saddlebag, scouring the inside of the bag. One of the ponies walks up to me. “Looking for something?”

“My journal isn’t in here.” I open it up and spill the contents onto the bar. Inside is my wallet, a few pictures of Ponyville, Filthy’s letters, and my old gun. “Everything is in here but my journal.”

“You think it was stolen?” The pony asks.

I ponder the question for a few seconds. “Who would want to steal my journal?” I start to laugh to myself. “Seriously, I’ve got a wallet and a gun in here and some pony would steal my bloody journal?” The laughing causes every pony the bar to stare at me. “No, I must have forgotten it where I’m staying.”

Big Macintosh stops the music and walks over to me. “And where would that be, friend?” he asks, looking at my empty wallet, “cause you must’ve left your money there too.” The bar chuckles with him.

“Heh… yeah…” I remember the reason I was searching for booze in Derpy’s house is because I am completely out of money. “That or I just forgot I was broke.”

“Now how does some pony simply forget that Mr. Coin?” Big Macintosh softly asks, whispering in my ear.

I laugh nervously at the accusation. “Well, the Rich family is planning on paying me one thousand bits just for investigating this town.” The bar stops, several patrons spit their drinks out; all eyes are on me again.

“You are getting paid one thousand bits, for just looking around, not even finding anything?”

“Yep, I stay for a week and find out what I can find,” I answer, “another two thousand if I find her alive, and another two thousand if I find out who kidnapped her or killed her as Filthy assumes.”

Big Macintosh sits at the stool next to me. “Barkeep, two Hopping Mad’s please.” The bartender nods and begins furiously mixing the two drinks. “So Filthy thinks that she was killed huh? So does that mean that you’re staying with Filthy?”

I ignore the continued questioning of my place of residence. “Filthy seems to have it in his head that his daughter is dead despite the fact that there is no evidence to suggest that.” The bartender places the drinks in front of the two of us. “Thanks for that, but I’m broke.”

“It’s on me Copper.” Big Macintosh said as he smiled, “Every pony should get a chance to try the Hopping Mad at least once.” He raised his glass with his hoof. I lift my glass and clink it with Big Mac’s. I gulp down the ice cold liquid, washing away the terrifying memories of the dream, and the song.

“So Filthy thinks that Diamond is dead, and I assume he still blames us?” Macintosh asks.
I nod in response. “Not that I can blame him that much, I mean I saw your reports on the search and they weren’t exactly police quality.”

“Well we aren’t police Mr. Coin.” Big Mac says solemnly, “We don’t have your, if you’ll pardon the cliché, city-folk training and police force.”

“What are you talking about?” I raise my voice, “Your entire TOWN went looking for this girl; that has to be at least one hundred ponies, as opposed to the thirty or forty police officers we get on the more important cases!”

“‘More important cases’?”

“You know, when some rich guy or famous gal loses their kid or their friend after a hard night of partying and they just know that they’re dead because some pony had some grudge against them in college.” I take another drink, “I mean I’ve never even heard of a whole town searching for one lost filly, no matter how rich her dad is.”

“Maybe we just have a sense of community that you just don’t have up in the big city.” Big Mac jokes while prodding me in the shoulder with his hoof.

“Yeah, you guys are like the cult I never joined.” Again, many faces in the bar sour at my rambling. “Uh, not that there’s anything wrong with your weird whatever you are cult. I’m sure it’s quite nice.”

Big Macintosh just keeps smiling and orders another drink for the two of us. “We don’t consider ourselves a cult Copper; you’re gonna make more enemies if you keep talking like that.”

“Yeah, I kinda ticked off at least every female in the markets today, though not entirely because of the whole cult thing.” The bar patrons begin to laugh again, “Yeah I kind of hit on this fine little piece of southern comfort that punched me in the face.”

“Ya mean mah sister.”

“Based on the accent, yeah, she must’ve been your sister; Applejack right?”

“Eeyup.”

“Tell her she’s got one heck of a right hook, not as fine as her legs but pretty close.”

Big Macintosh laughs heartily as I recount every bad pickup line I used on Applejack and Golden Harvest. “Wow, no one’s ever gotten my sister so mad that she just up and punches them in broad daylight.”

I puff out my chest in a victory pose to joke around. “I’m no normal stallion, Macintosh.”

“Clearly.”

Time eventually passes as almost every pony in the bar gathers around me to hear my stories of my time as a detective. Every crazed killer, psychotic lawbreaker, and nutty rapist seemed to entertain the bar more and more. I turn to the clock on the right wall of the bar trying to see it through my blurred vision. “I should probably head out by now, excellent first day on the job though.”

Big Macintosh stops me at the door. “Ya sure you don’t want one of us to bring you home buddy?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine;” I lie as I slowly walk to the door, “I need to check someplace out first anyway.”

Big Macintosh cocks an eyebrow. “Where ya gonna check out this time of night?” I point out towards the Everfree Forest. “Yer gonna check out the Everfree Forest at this time of night?”

“Well yeah.”

“Ya do realize how stupid that is right friend?”

“Why?”

A pony grabs me by my head, “Because it’s the Everfree Forest! It’s the scariest, most horrifying place ever; even in the daytime.”

I put a hoof to my chin in thought. “Alright, I’ll just check out the forest for a few minutes, and then I’ll head back.”

“Alright, well you be safe now Copper buddy, and just remember.” I look at Big Macintosh, “We may be different than the rest of Equestria, but that doesn’t mean we’re some sort of crazy child-killing cult.”

I giggle a little nervously, “I know, frankly I kind of like you guys. I mean, Filthy attacked me when I first went to his house; he seems to be more of a killer than you guys.” The crowd walks up and hugs me.

“Well then you go and do your fancy investigating and maybe we’ll see you for a drink tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I give one last hug to the various bar patrons and head out for the Everfree Forest. After arriving at the entrance to the Everfree forest at night, most ponies would probably realize their mistake. I, however, see it as a challenge set before me that I do not intend to lose. The forest seems to hiss and growl as I walk further into Everfree, paying no heed. I suddenly start to hear something, something that he knew from somewhere else.

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away.”

I shake my head; I remember this song from somewhere. “Hello, who’s there?” The singing voice ceases. I run further into the forest searching for the voice. “Where are you?”

“Rest now my children, for soon we’ll away.”

I know this song from somewhere; I just cannot remember where it was. “Please just tell me where you are?” I shout, running deeper into the dark forest. I still cannot remember where I have heard the song before, but I know that I have heard it from somewhere.

“I’ll take thee away.”

I keep running until I trip over a pile of rocks and start to tumble down the side of an incline. Once I hit the bottom, my vision starts to fade and the world starts to become shrouded in darkness.

“Here in my garden of shadows.”

Day 2: Shaman

Whispers of the Stars
Chapter 4: Day 2 Shaman

I start searching Derpy’s kitchen for liquor; drinking has always seemed to help me whenever I start to think too much. I do not see anything in any obvious place in the kitchen. ‘She must keep SOMETHING hidden.’ I search high and low throughout the kitchen, but I cannot find any signs of cider, wine, hard liquor or any such thing. ‘Can she seriously not have any?’

I am just about to give up when I find a bottle of cheap whiskey wedged in-between some flour and other baking supplies. With the simple thought, ‘Perhaps I can pay her back later.’ I take a sip of the whiskey from the bottle and immediately start to feel better. The sweet sting of the whiskey is slowly eroding the horrid memories of the previous night as it flows down my throat; the monster, the filly, my own immolation and death, all gone.

“So, this is what I will be reduced to;” a familiar male voice interrupts my drink, “A sad, drunken slob?”

“Who said that?” I ask as I try to locate the voice.

“Right here.” The source of the voice walks into the light. He is a bronze earth pony with a silver mane wearing a blue police uniform.

“Who are you?”

“I’m you;” the colt replies, “from ten years ago when you were still on the force.”

“Ah yes, I remember now; the glory days.”

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you out in Ponyville trying to find Diamond Tiara and solving the case behind that strange church?”

“Woah, woah, easy there kid; you shouldn’t worry so much. I still have at least six days left, so I don’t have to rush this. Listen, why don’t you sit down, help yourself to some whiskey and we can talk about my favorite mem-”

“WILL YOU FORGET ABOUT THE STUPID WHISKEY?!” My younger version knocks the bottle out of my hoof, sending it crashing to the ground. “What happened to you?! You used to be one of the best cops on the force!! All those years of expert police work and you let it go to waste by getting drunk and slacking off?!”

“What happened to me? The nightmares happened!” I shoot back at my younger self, “Surely you know the horrors that your photographic memory saves from an investigation just to reveal themselves again in the nightmares that follow!”

“Of course I do! I've had my share of nightmares that left me waking up with adrenaline in my system and drenched in sweat, but I don't let that stop me from putting criminals behind bars! I would rather be an insomniac who brings justice than a drunken slob who mooches off his old friends!”

“Now wait just a minute-”

“Don’t try to lecture me, old man!” Young Bronze Plate interrupts, “I’m not the one who needs to be taught a lesson! There is a little filly out there that is in danger, and yet you are laying down on the job, getting drunk, and even accusing the townspeople of being one big cult; and to top it all off, you only agreed to this because of the money! I can’t believe I grew up to be some pony as useless or pathetic as you!”

The bronze police officer then storms out of the room in the direction he came, leaving me to absorb everything I had just heard from my younger clone.

///////////////////////////////////

??? of Day 2
Only ??? hours left

I wake up on my side on some kind of dirt covered terrain. My whole body is engulfed in aches and pains. I force my eyes open to try and see my current location. As my eyes adjust to the light to reveal a forest around me, I try to figure out where I have ended up. 'Where am I?' I wonder, 'More importantly, how did I get here?' As hard as I try, I cannot remember how I ended up in this location. However, the lack of light and haunting aura of the forest tells me it is not safe to stay here much longer.

Every muscle in my body screams in agony as I pull myself up off the ground. My pounding head and unsteady balance give me the hint that alcohol was most likely the reason I ended up here; not very surprising for me. After taking a couple of carefully slow steps, I feel my hoof crunch something strange. I look down to see what I had feared is in fact reality. The mostly burned corpse of a bright-pink filly with a singed white and lilac mane lies dead in a patch of dirt. Her stomach is completely flat and her underside has a long vertical cut from her chest down telling me that something removed her internal organs and left the body to rot. Her face is frozen in fear and a silver tiara lies discarded two feet away from her.

'This...this is Diamond Tiara!' I realize, 'Great, there goes two thousand bits down the drain. As long as I catch the murderer and solve this whole 'cult' mystery, coming down here will not have been a complete waste of time.' I mutter a silent prayer to Celestia before moving on. If I had a camera with me, I could capture the evidence of the corpse; sadly, I am not fortunate enough to own a camera, let alone buy one.

I decide my next objective is to find my way out of this forest and back to Ponyville. As I start walking, I hear a twig snap in the distance to my left. “Who's there?” I shout...no response. I brush it off and continue walking. However, as I continue, I hear more rustling in the bushes of the forest. Feeling a sense of unease, I reach into my right saddlebag to pull out my gun for protection. However, I find that there is a big hole in the saddlebag and the gun is nowhere to be found. 'What the...where's my gun, and how did I get this giant hole in my bag?!'

My thoughts are interrupted be the continuous rustling. I pick up my pace to get away from the source, but the rustling follows close behind slowly picking up speed. A menacing growl sends my heart into my throat and I immediately take off as the creature jumps out of the bushes and follows in pursuit. My aching legs carry me through the thick forest at an unsteady pace. My headache makes it hard to keep my eyes open to see where I am going as I make random turns in the forest to try and lose the predator behind me. The creature starts to gain distance as its growls get louder. My adrenaline starts burning in my chest as I continue to push myself through the forest.

Suddenly, I see a small wooden hut shaped like a tree in the distance with masks decorating the exterior and lights flickering in the windows. I drive my overworked body to the door and immediately start banging on it, hoping that some pony will answer the door.

“Let me in! Please; let me in!” I yell. After a few seconds of banging, some pony finally answers the door. This pony is white with black stripes with a black and white mohawk. She has an earring on her left ear and three bangles on her right foreleg. I immediately realize it is not a pony at all; she is a zebra.

“Who is it that we have here?” she asks, “A new pony from Ponyville it would appear.”

A dash in and slam the door, putting my back against the door. “Sorry about this ma'am, but something’s out there is trying to turn me into breakfast.” The growling gets louder as the beast gains distance on the house. I then notice the zebra walking towards me with a metal pot and spoon. She then motions me to move away from the door. Reluctantly, I step away and let her out. I nervously watch as she takes a few steps outside and lays the metal pot on the ground. As the outline of the monster comes into view, she takes the metal spoon in her mouth and starts banging on the pot.

The beast immediately stops its rampage and begins to back away in fear before turning around and running away. After a few more bangs, the zebra puts the spoon back in the pot and carries them both back inside.

“Thanks, but how did you know what to do?” I ask.

“Timberwolves have strong senses in what they hear,” she replies, “so loud noises are one of the things they fear.”

‘That was just a timberwolf?’ “I see, and who is it that I owe my life to?”

“I am just a zebra, Zecora is my name, and I reside in this area of the forest where everything is tame.” Now that I am able to rest, I manage to absorb my surroundings through my headache. There is a black cauldron in the middle sitting on several wooden planks. To my right is a desk with many shelves atop, lined with several bottles, jars, and elixirs. On the left, many tribal masks hang as decoration with a small wooden table to the left of the window in the middle of the wall. In the back right is a small bed with a leopard pattern on the comforter.

'Interesting décor,' I cannot help but think, 'the masks hanging around, outdated medicine desk, cauldron, and comforter made of leopard's fur suggests she's not from around here. She also seems to speak only in rhyme; she probably moved here from Zebrabwae.'

“I see,” I think aloud, “so basically, you’re a shaman living in the Everfree Forest.”

“Yes, good sir, that is true, now whom do I have the pleasure of asking ‘how do you do?’” It takes a few seconds, but I realize she is asking for my name.

“My name is Copper Coin; I am staying in Ponyville to investigate the disappearance of Diamond Tiara.” I offer a hoof to shake but almost immediately lose my balance. I immediately catch myself before I am able to fall to the ground.

“You are suffering a hangover, I can tell,” Zecora turns to the ‘Medicine Counter’, “I have something that will help you get well.” She takes a purple bottle from the second shelf to her right and pours the liquid into a small wooden cup. Meanwhile, I take a seat at the table and begin to massage the temples of my forehead. The zebra serves me a strange purple liquid in the wooden cup. I start to eye the concoction suspiciously; my gut tells me not to drink it, but my dry throat begs me to do the opposite.

I consume the strange purple liquid and almost instantly, my strength returns and my headache vanishes. “Thanks a lot; how much do I owe you?”

Zecora just gives me a smile. “My remedies do not require a toll; this is a generous gift for a kind soul.”

‘Oh, thank Celestia!’ I release a small, quiet sigh. “Well, thank you again.” Hearing this brings me relief as I remember that I am broke. An awkward silence follows until I decide to break the ice with a question. “Are you a resident in Ponyville or do you live away from society?”

“I come and go from Ponyville as I please, so I can gather herbal ingredients with ease. However, as of late, I noticed Ponyville was not in its normal state.”

“So do you know about the newly built church and how almost every pony in town attends that alien-looking thing?” She is taken aback by my question.

“If you are trying to accuse me, choose your next words carefully.” I bring a hoof to my face as I realize the tone I just used was the same one I used when I asked Derpy about the ponies who attend the church.

“I’m sorry, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything; I just want to know if you are aware of the strange occurrences happening in town.” The zebra eases up and comes to sit in front of me at the wooden table.

“Indeed, I know about this new building, it has an aura that gave me an uneasy feeling. I went to inform Twilight Sparkle who works at the library, but there was something different about her that made me wary.”

I raise an eyebrow as I walk over to the Medicine Counter and pick up a piece of paper as well as a quill and some ink and return to the table. 'Filthy Rich mentioned Twilight Sparkle in one of his letters.' I remember, 'Perhaps this zebra can help me find out more about this mare.' “In what ways did she seem 'different'?”

“She looked like she had not slept in days; when I approached her, I was met with an evil gaze. Twilight Sparkle also had a dark aura around her, one that spoke of dread, rage, and horror. She is mostly happy and eager to learn, to find her this way gave me reasonable concern.”

“I take it you know this Twilight Sparkle personally?” The zebra nods.

“I have known Twilight Sparkle for nearly a year, for her well being, I am starting to fear. I have been looking through many books of lore, to try and find the aura the librarian wore. Alas, my search has been in vain, for the answers, those books to not contain.”

'Twilight Sparkle has an abnormally dark aura. Possibly studying Dark Magic.'
'Mostly a happy pony until construction of church.'
'Aura not found in any book.'

“Do you know anything else about the church in town?” Zecora shakes her head in dismay. I decide to move on before I start accusing her again. “Does Twilight Sparkle have any friends or family residing in Ponyville?”

“Twilight Sparkle five friends in Ponyville, all of which she knows extraordinarily well. Their names are Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity; they are very well known as the Elements of Harmony.”

“Apparently not that well known.” I mumble to myself, inaudible to Zecora. 'It sure was nice of Really Rich to inform me the heroes of Equestria consist of a prude, a hot-head, a liar, a black magician, and Celestia knows what else.' I write down the names of the six mares and write 'Elements of Harmony' above them. 'At least I will have some additional questions for these mares.' I turn my attention back to the zebra in front of me. “Any pony else?”

“She talks about her parents and brother quite a lot, although they currently reside in Canterlot.”

'Horse apples; so much for looking into family history.' I think, 'At least I have a lot to work with.' “What about the other residents of the town? Any idea why they are all acting like one big cult?” Zecora frowns and raises an eyebrow as soon as that last word escapes my lips. I sigh before adding “for lack of a better term.”

“Ponyville is acting strange, I did say, but I would not accuse them in such a way. I suspect the church may have the answers we seek, but the guards will not let you take a peek.”

'She's probably right. That place looked heavily guarded when I first got here and considering the Mayor is a member of the little cult, there's no way I can get a warrant to search the place. Maybe I'll get some more answers in town.' “I just have one more question,” I pause before asking, “Which direction do take to get back to Ponyville?”

“Return east and travel up the hill; in little time, you will be back in Ponyville.”

I return the quill to the inkwell and fold up the paper I have been writing on. I make sure it is in the saddlebag without the giant hole and excuse myself from the table. “Thank you, Zecora. If you find any more information that could be useful, you can find me at Ms. Derpy Hooves' house; I assume you know where that is?” She nods to answer my question and I return a friendly smile as I exit the hut. Looking around to make sure no wild creatures are waiting to turn me into a snack, I follow Zecora's directions back to town.

Evening of Day 2
Only 125 hours left

As I trot back into town, I notice that the sky has a shade of violet and the town is getting darker, telling me that Princess Luna has raised the moon and the sun is being lowered into the horizon. 'Jeez, how long was I out?' Almost every pony still wandering through town, more specifically, the mares, is giving me some sort of angry glare leaving me to assume that the word had quickly spread about me doing something rude, stupid, or both in my drunken state yesterday. 'Looks like I'll have to save the drinks for after five o'clock while I'm here; getting drunk so early seems to have given me a bad reputation.'

I continue on my way back to Derpy's house until I come across a white circular house that looks similar to that of a carousel. I recognize the building from the documents Really Rich gave me; they told me that a unicorn named Rarity resides here with her younger sister, Sweetie Belle. 'Well, since I'm here, I might as well see if she can give me some answers. Derpy said she was not a true believer, so I shouldn't have to worry about playing the tourist role.' I walk up to the door and knock in hopes that some pony is home.

“Coming!” A sing-song voice responds. Not even a minute later, the door opens and I am greeted to a gorgeous white unicorn with a curly purple mane and light blue eye shadow. “Hello, how can I help yo-Wahaha!” she springs back in shock as soon as she turns her head to look at me. “Oh my stars, darling, what happened to you, you are an absolute mess!”

I look down at myself and notice my shirt is completely covered in dirt. 'Crap! Why didn't that zebra tell me dirty I am? No wonder every pony was giving me the stink eye, I look like I slept in a ditch!' “My apologies for the appearance ma'am, I am usually tidier than this.” I lie as I brush some of the dirt off my shirt, “My name is Copper Coin, and I am investigating the disappearance of Diamond Tiara.”

“Oh, I see.” Her voice changes to a more serious tone at the mention of my name.

“Erm, may I come in? I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the town.”

“Of course Mr. Coin, but first thing's first! We need to get you cleaned up!”

“Wait, no, that's okay. You don't really need to do that!”The unicorn pushes me in through the door an over to what I assume is something along the lines of a dressing room despite my protests. Next thing I know, I am greeted by a brush on my face as the beautician starts trying to clean me up.

Author's Note

Authors Note: Zecora is REALLY hard to write! Also, I apologize for taking so long to write this chapter. Future chapters will be out at a much quicker pace.