You are sitting in your office, a concentrated expression on your face and your brow furrowed, as you finish checking the final lines of your monthly report. Needless to say that you are paying special attention to the numbers, which are in all honesty the most important part of the whole thing.

Normally you would have read through the whole thing, twice, and made sure that everything added up along the way, causing the end of the report to be an expected result rather than a point of tension. But this month you simply did not have the time to do such a thing, so, sloppy as it might feel from your habits and perspective, you have to employ this direct and much less secure method.

A long sigh of relief escapes your lips as you confirm that everything has added up properly. You have kept a tight hoof around your farmlands for years now, so you know (or at least hope) nopony will start stealing things or embezzling bits on the first sign that you have been a little more absent than usual.

But still, it's your job to make sure.

You start binding and sealing the reports, to be mailed to your family, already knowing that your father's accountants will find all sorts of little details to fuss over and report back to him. You are certain that you will receive a strongly worded letter telling you not to neglect your job, but considering how you spent the first half of the month on Canterlot said letter just might be the usual Velvet Hill formality of reprimand.

Something you can safely ignore, you hope. You will have to read it to be sure, of course, since by now you are already used to the tone and wording your father uses when writing you.

Specifically, you know that if he openly criticizes your work and actions, you are good. However, if he is circuitous about a certain subject, or fails to mention it in anything more than passing, that's when you know you ought to be extremely careful.

Point in case, so far all of his letters regarding Silky Stream have all but openly threatened to disown you if you don't have her moved to Canterlot for "better education", his disapproval and disappointment made clear through ink. That means he couldn't care less about her, and you usually rip those letters before you are even done reading them.

Bless your daughter and her wings, you suppose. Your life would be a lot different if your father had any actual interest in her.

A knock comes to your door, causing you to look up and momentarily pause the mechanical movements of levitating and wax-sealing the report scrolls.

"Excuse me ma'am," Ponpon enters a few moments later, "mail just arrived, and…"

She seems a little… puzzled? Disturbed might be a better way to put it. You can tell that there is some sort of conflict in her eyes, and this causes you to float the scrolls down.

"And what?" you ask, your voice becoming slightly curious at that, "did we receive some strange package or the likes?"

You are fairly sure you didn't order any… curious artifacts, so this isn't the case of a mummified claw of some large insect having arrived by pegasus-courier or anything.

Not that something like that has ever happened before, but you are mindful about not setting precedents to begin with.

"Not exactly a package, ma'am, and admittedly it isn't something… extremely strange but…"

You can sense that she is being as indirect and careful as possible with her words. And considering how you have known her for many years now, most of which she has been your personal maid no less, this sets off all sorts of flags inside your head.

"But it is rather… unusual?" she finishes, clearly conflicted, taking out a few envelopes from one of the pockets of her uniform, and placing them on your desk.

You eye the envelopes, four of them are regular letters which you immediately dismiss, but your eyes soon focus on the fifth thing jutting out from between them like a sore hoof. You can't help but feel like Ponpon even made sure to somewhat "hide" that thing among the envelopes, as she brought them here, as if she had been uncomfortable about even carrying the thing to begin with.

You quickly float it, whatever it is, towards you with your horn.

"I just find it weird, ma'am, because it specifically has your name written on it and..."

You eye it carefully.

It's a card, of sorts. An invitation, perhaps?

It's about half the size of a normal mail envelope, printed in a glossy black type of hard-paper, sufficiently thick for you to think the thing might actually be… plasticized? You're more used to using scrolls and ink-written paper, so you're not familiarized with the intricacies of that particular form of printed press.

The card looks like it is the expensive sort of thing to get done, for sure, and you think it even has a tinge of perfume to it. You are a reputable mare, of course, but you can't help but think that this looks like the sort of… invitation that nobles send to each other, when summoning their peers for events in which they might partake in less than reputable activities. Down to the last detail, the slight watermark that resembles a pair of glasses being clinked, and the way the borders have a pleasant imagery of vines and leaves printed on them... in red ink, contrasting against the black color of the card as a whole.

And because of that thought, and all those tiny details, the fur on your coat practically stands on its end when you read exactly what is written on the luxuriously made card.

...

"Esteemed Lady Velvet Covers

We of the Wildhoof Club would like to thank you for your extended patronage and membership in our book club, and cordially invite you to a final perusal of our new establishment before the grand opening takes place.

Upon your arrival you will receive your membership card, and complimentary drinks.

Kindly join us on the following date and address to…"

...

You close your eyes, floating the card back down to the table once you realize you can still read the thing just fine, and you focus your willpower on your forelegs, keeping them locked in place and stopping them from flying towards your face to perform a much needed facehoof.

You also do your best to keep the… groan that is welling up inside your throat from escaping your lips.

Membership in our book club? Complimentary drinks? How in the heavens are you even supposed to start the damage control on the sorts of rumors that will arise, after you received an invitation to the "new space for your book club" that looks like the damn flier to something that sounds like a…

A blasted cabaret?

And worse, when the cursed thing says you have been giving it "extended patronage"?!

You think you can hear Windy Flakes in the distance, cackling, as you picture the damned card being passed from hoof to hoof through every last servant in your Estate until it reaches Ponpon, and much later your desk.

Doesn't that blasted unicorn know the first thing about subtlety?

Of course he does… you think. The question is, does he even damn cares about it?!

"Ma'am…?" Ponpon starts hesitantly, but a part of you already knows what she is going to say, "the servant who passed me the mail couldn't help but notice that the letter mentions it's from your… book club?"

You can see in the mare's expression that it is exactly as bad as you think it is, that even as you speak the gossiping must be spreading like wildfire, as the servants recall every time you left to go to your "book club". They are probably, also, starting to piece together the scant times they must have noticed when you were absent during the rather more suspicious times of the day.

You also recall that Ponpon meekly mentioned that the thing has been especially printed with your name on it. No chance for it to be a random sort of mass-printed pamphlet, then.

And you can see, from her expression, that even she has the slight glint of doubt in her eyes.

You take a deep breath, and picture yourself introducing Windy Flakes to a particularly beautiful ending, through strangulation of course.

"Thank you Ponpon, that will be all," you say, your expression still calm and neutral, but your tone sufficiently sharp for the maid to know she should leave.

And you quickly run a mental check list. You live in Ponyville, so there really aren't many ponies whose opinions actually matters, and the capital is too far for this sort of gossip to reach in any relevant way. The only ponies who matter are those whose opinions you personally value, so basically only your husband in your household. Ponpon as well, of course, but the damage seems to have already been done on her, so you will have to take the longer road to explain her what this is all about.

Your daughter is too young to understand whatever this might mean or imply, and the only maid who really has any contact with her is Soft Sweeps, who you trust, so there isn't much danger on that front either. Or at least at first…

And there is also…

"Great… so I only have to make sure that my version of this whole thing reaches Stormchaser first, and there is Rarity and possibly…" you start talking to yourself, your face on your hoofs and the half-bound reports forgotten on your desk.

As much as you love your husband, sometimes you are thankful for the fact that he travels around so much.

And by the heavens, you will have Windy Flake's coat for this.

You know the address by heart, the distasteful situation in which you read it on the first time having all but burned it into your memory, but you still bring out the invitation from your saddle purse to double check. You are somewhat close to the center of Ponyville, now, sufficiently close to the urban and commercial parts of it for there to be a reasonable number of ponies on the streets, that is.

It also helps that the sun is high up in the sky. It feels strange, to be heading for a cult meeting during the day, but the excuse you have for it seems somewhat reliable.

If not for the ridiculous way it was presented, of course, added to the kick that it gave to your personal standing.

You turn around the last corner, and… you are not quite sure how to feel about it.

You see it. It is a rather large building, something that would have taken most of an entire block if the buildings and roads in Ponyville didn't follow the characteristic habit of being spaced out in a comfortable manner. The thing is two-storied and has clearly been through large renovations, its painting fresh and gleaming, and the large signboard on its front having clearly been installed recently.

"THE WILDHOOF CLUB" is written on the signboard, in large grey letters, with the "W" being two large, interlocked metal horseshoes. A smaller, temporary, signboard is also visible next to it, the words "Grand Opening" written in bright red and flowy letters, next to tomorrow's date.

A part of you thinks it is somewhat impressive. This looks like a lot more than you thought anypony would have been able to do in such a small period of time, after all the building is quite large and has the looks of an impressive establishment.

But another part of you can't help but wonder about…

How is this even remotely close to subtle? How can this be a good idea, when you are part of a cult centered around the idea of subtlety? How could Windy Flakes even fathom that, when your master mentioned he was supposed to ensure the cult would have funds, that he was supposed to open a Clubhouse?

And most importantly, how are you supposed to keep the image of a respectable married mare if you are seen walking into that sort of establishment?!

You have seen places like this, but only in large cities like Manehattan and Canterlot. A bar slash restaurant by day, and a nightclub after dark. The sort of place, sometimes membership-exclusive, in which ponies can spend their time and maybe take their families.

Not that you trust the unicorn to make a place that is anything close to family-friendly, of course.

Granted, you have never actually been inside any of those, but you have heard from enterprising nobles about it, and your experiences with the things nobles come up to pass the time, be it parties or otherwise, more than makes up for anything you might see inside those sorts of places. Those sorts of places, from what you hard in Canterlot at least, can house anything from a theater to a gold course.

You let out a low groan as you remember that this place is now tied to the idea of your "book club"… you wonder if it will be better to come up with another cover story, or if simply insisting on it will suffice.

And also, you are somewhat worried that you didn't hear about this being built at all. As much as you have been a little more active in Ponyville, it seems that your own Estate and lifestyle are still sufficiently cut off from Ponyville as a whole for these kind of news not to reach you.

The double-edged blade of anonymity, perhaps…?

But that is beside the point. As you approach the building, you notice a familiar fiery-red coated unicorn stallion exiting through the front doors. He must have seen you from a window as you approached, because he immediately waves towards you, wearing a smile as if everything is right with the world.

A particularly insufferable smile, you must add.

"Velvet Covers, so glad you could come!" he says as soon as you are within earshot, "thank you once again for your extended patronage, come on in!"

You look around, checking to see if there are any ponies that could hear his incessant yammering, and you resist a small urge to zap him with a bolt from your horn.

Instead, you just glare daggers in his direction, walking through the double doors as soon as possible so as to get out of the streets.

"Eager for a tour, are we?" he follows right behind you, closing the doors with a flick of magic, "I will be happy to comply!"

By the heavens… this damned unicorn.

Extremely annoying club host aside, you must admit that…

You are somewhat impressed.

The place is deceptively large, enough for it to perhaps be considered a townhouse or a particularly small mansion. There are several large halls, especially on the second floor, which are completely empty, but Windy Flakes seems to have plans for almost all of them.

"This was an abandoned museum of sorts, owned by an old antiquarian. Not nearly as impressive as it is right now, of course. It looked like a haunted house, mind you, but earth pony industry sure is impressive."

The very first hall, right after you entered, is a large bar-like place, several tables strewn around to accommodate a small crowd of ponies. The place is brightly illuminated, even though there are no windows, but you also spy several red lamps on the walls and ceiling, and you can guess that the whole place will have a dimly lit redcolor once it switches to its night public.

"The Red Bar," he says, helpfully, "the names are a work in progress, of course. That door right there leads to the Rhythm Room. Dance floor and all other things for the younger ones, and I found this white coated unicorn that seems to be interested in working here on the musical front," he finishes, once again mumbling for you to let him know if you have any better suggestions for the ambient names.

"How in the heavens did you get the bits to do all of this?" you ask, turning your appraising eyes in every direction as you go, "I can tell this whole place has practically been renovated from scratch…"

"Oh, it was thanks to that wonderful Starry mare. No idea what she did, but the Rich and the Gleam families came here a few weeks ago and practically fought each other to get a partnership on this!"

He takes you over the other, empty halls, saying how he plans to turn everything into thematically fitting ambience.

His inspiration for said theme, of course, is obvious.

"But this really is supposed to be a club. Sure, regular clientele can come and go as they please, but I'll have other places set up to be exclusive for actual paying members. Great way to have our members meet up in an unsuspicious way, out in the open. Great way to launder money as well," he says nonchalantly.

To which your ears perk up almost as if you had received a shock, and you look around worriedly, dreading somepony else might be listening to your conversation.

"Oh, and if you're wondering about Edge, I had this wonderful idea of keeping an illegal fighting ring on the underground level," he says with a bright smile, "a shame that Comet said almost nopony in town is worth their salt for that, but I'm not giving up on it!"

How in the heavens can he say those sorts of things so calmly?

And your hoofsteps finally take you to the staircases that lead, as you expected, to the underground. A proper staircase, that takes you to a proper corridor and rooms, not an underground-dug cavern of sorts.

You do notice, however, that you had to get through a couple of locked doors to get here. This must be what he meant by the "membership only" part of the club. But he also mentioned most of the staff will be cult members proper, so at least this much shouldn't arouse suspicion.

You hope…

"Anyways, last door to the right. The others are all empty, mind you, so you won't find anything if you peek into them. White Room surely isn't ready yet as well. Off you go then, I'll go wait for the others to arrive!"

And with that the unicorn goes back towards the entrance, leaving you on the underground corridor, flanked by four doors.

You make your way to the last one on the right, as he instructed, and open it.

A curtain meets you, a long and grey curtain that goes all the way down to the floor. You part it, only to see that there is another one immediately after that one.

You think you know what this is about, so you lower your head slightly and start walking through the sequence of curtains horn-first.

As you expected, the amount of curtains seems to be almost endless, as you keep walking onwards and onwards. Either that, or this room is particularly large, but you just close your eyes and keep walking.

You focus your mind on nothing at all, taking special care not to focus on the curtains as they caress your sides each time you pass through another set.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the curtains stop feeling like cloth and start feeling like leaves. You dismiss the curious feeling, even as the branches of said leaves start to scratch you from unseen directions, even as you start hearing hints that the room will be much larger if you stop walking forwards and turn towards any other direction.

You keep walking, until at last you pass through the final curtain, and a dark forest appears before you, visible through your closed eyes. You cannot see the sky, as the dark leaves of the tall trees completely cover it, but you can feel that the moonlight would be shining down upon you if it could.

You have arrived in a clearing of sorts, and you see Jade Whistle sitting there, alone. You open your eyes for a few moments, being greeted by total darkness, and a part of you understands that this is what it looked like on the underground of your cult's previous gathering place.

With your eyes closed once again, you head towards Jade Whistle, her ears perking up as your hoofs disturb the leaf-like wings left behind by the countless that are flying just out of your sight, the noises they make curiously silent and buzzing at the same time.

"Velvet Covers," she says, with her usual apparently bored voice, as she turns to face you.

Her eyes, you see, have a small glint to them. Nothing visible if you open your eyes, but still you can see sparks that might one day become spotlights.

You shake your head, blinking as you wonder exactly why those thoughts are occurring to you, but the buzzing you hear around you soon makes you forget that such a thing should be odd to begin with.

"Yes. Good afternoon, Jade," you say.

Her eyes are following you, but they are slightly off, as if she can only see your shadow, and not you. So, you make sure to loudly sit by her side when you get close enough to her.

To which she simply nods, and stares back towards the dark forest around you.

You eye the mare curiously. A part of you just wants to stay there in silence, and hope that she finds your company at least pleasant. But you can't help but wonder about something else.

"I was wondering..." you start, slowly, for some reason being careful about your words, "I take it that you did this whole thing?" you say, referring to the place in which the two of you are.

You are not sure if you are really, physically within the Woods, or if this is an invocation of it, a reflection that you might see through a pool, or perhaps that you might see in the moon when its surface is like that of a mirror.

You think that it is the latter, since opening a portal into the Mansus doesn't sound like something that is even possible, but you still can't help but wonder how she did it.

"Yes," she answers simply, not even turning to face you.

"And you also did it on the cult's other meeting place, I take it?"

"Mhmm…"

You double-check your logic, just to make sure you wouldn't say something foolish, before you continue. Although trying to think in a straight line feels a little silly of you, right now, but you are sure that this Woods-like meeting place already existed on your cult's previous gathering place when you were first introduced there.

"But the Master taught us about the ritual circle a long time after that, I believe… so how exactly did you do it then, on that first time?" you finish you question, "how did you do it this time, again?"

You don't see any circles inscribed on the center of the clearing, after all.

However, the mare keeps looking towards the forest, to the point where a part of you wonders if she even listened to your last question.

Until you hear her take a deep breath.

And something inside of you freezes up, knowing that this much of a reaction from her means that she…

"The first time I did it was by pure chance," she says, her voice totally unphased despite the weight you can feel from them. "Doing it is… unpleasant," she finishes, and goes completely silent once more.

You do not understand what she means by that.

But you still feel like you have just asked something that you should not.

You hear leaves being stomped over, as the two final figures approach the gathering.

Windy Flakes still has his pleased smile about him, although the telltale way his eyes dart about makes it clear to you that he is utterly blind.

Comet Feet on the other hand…

"Is that noise… Comet Feet and Windy Flakes?" Starry Dancer, sitting next to you, whispers to nopony in particular.

And in return, the large pegasus looks towards her.

You have your eyes closed, and you know you have a particular advantage over everypony else in here. But it is precisely because of said advantage that you can see how Comet Feet is looking directly at her, more precisely than Jade Whistle even.

And his eyes seem somewhat… sharp.

But despite that sharpness, you detect no form of threat from him, although a small part of you whispers that maybe you should.

The two of them sit around the small circle the four of you had been forming, and Jade Whistle immediately begins to talk.

"I'll start," she says simply.

You think the winds might have grown a little quieter, on the upper part of the trees, but you are not sure. Still, much like in an earlier meeting, she can probably feel a certain attention on her.

"I have made some progress in searching for Princess Luna," she declares in her low tone, "the scrying ritual is ready in theory, but I haven't had the chance to test it for effectiveness or for things like false positives."

You can see her face turn in your general direction before she continues.

"I understand it if you can't, but I'd appreciate your help with testing it. But I know you have been busy yourself, so don't mind thinking about it as just a backup option."

She then goes completely silent. You think it would have taken a few moments for Windy Flakes to realize she was done, but he also starts speaking almost immediately, eyes opening wide as he certainly feels something about him.

"Our new front is done," he says, eyes darting around as if searching for something, "made it with having a place for our followers to meet in mind. Without it looking suspicious or being a place where they could only meet at night, that is."

He stops and looks behind his back for a few moments, before facing the rest of you once more and continuing.

"Starry Dancer also got us some incredible partnerships, so as far as bits are concerned, we shouldn't have a problem. I had just the income from regular clients and our cult members in mind, but I think it will go better than that. As long as the idea of something like this sticks to this small town, of course, but I'm confident that word of mouth from our own members can help us with that."

He shakes his head for a few moments, and you see the smile on his face disappear for a few seconds as if he is feeling disturbed by something.

But Comet Feet doesn't seem to join him on his concerned reaction.

"I grow," he says, his voice a low growl. "Approaching the fourth exercises soon."

He turns his face towards Jade Whistle as he says that.

"Will need you cadre to invoke an Influence, or else I will take longer than necessary."

You see Jade Whistle nod at that.

But you are not sure of how you feel about the pegasus' demeanor, in all honesty. His voice, although not actively threatening, definitely sounds as sharp as his eyes.

"On my part," Copper Secateur's voice interrupts your worrying, somewhat, "we managed to disrupt the investigations, and my followers managed to convert a few more of the population, but only a few. Couldn't get involved in it directly, though. Sabotaging the investigation very nearly ended… disastrously."

The mare shudders slightly at that, and you can tell that she is remembering a particularly close call of sorts.

She looks slightly rattled, as well.

"Uhm… it's my turn, right? Well, I managed to get close to a couple of wealthy families here in Ponyville!" she says brightly, "and I think I managed to point them towards Windy Flakes without a hitch, but uh... I don't think I managed anything else that is worth talking about."

You see Windy Flakes snort at that, whispering something about the mare selling herself too short.

But then, it is your turn to speak.

And you finally notice it.

Or rather, it finally turns its notice towards you.

It feels like a spotlight, of sorts, as if suddenly you have become very aware of your own body, and the position that every last strand of fur juts out from your coat, and the awkward symmetry of your teeth inside your mouth and the way your eyes can't see behind you and how your body feels heavy an-

And everything else. Except that the sensation is only getting stronger.

Far stronger, you must add, then the last time you have felt it, months before.

You feel like you are being submerged in water, a grey and heavy sort of water, with physical pressure covering you like a coat.

You feel like there are roots slowly growing around your hoofs, just shy from touching your coat properly but still scraping against your fur.

You feel like something old and large and terrible is right behind you, looking at you with its many eyes.

And a small part of you wonders how everypony else could have been subjected to that same scrutiny and not have flinched. In fact, you understand Windy Flake's reaction perfectly now, although you admit that you feel like displaying thrice the unease that he did.

But a greater part of you simply starts to talk, the words rolling out of your mouth mere seconds after you think about them.

It is a good thing, then, that you came with your story well-rehearsed.

Author's Note

Following this, several options on what to report to the Master, and the Cult, were given. As always, the "winning" version will be added in the preamble of the next update.