A Veiled Pilgrimage

Closed ears flicked as he got used to the silence of the journey. The wind had been tickling them before. He wasn't hungry yet, but he'd been walking for most of the day at this point and knew he would be soon.

Once in a while, he heard the distant yell of a forest animal. Each time, he'd listen for how close it was. It wouldn't even be funny if he got attacked by a wild animal this quickly into his journey.

Still, the sky was a beautiful azure blue that was being hugged by the sides of green leaves which had just come back after winter. He found himself slowly going up a gradient, but it wasn't enough to make the journey any more tiresome. He did wonder how long it'd continue for though.

He had originally wanted to make it to that tavern by tonight, but considering his complete lack of knowledge for how far he'd actually travelled he wondered if he'd have to camp on the side of the road instead tonight.

Throughout the day today, he'd already seen around probably twenty different wildflower varieties, and each time it gave him a smile. He usually stopped to look at them up close and give a little sniff.

While he knew wolves and other predators did lurk out in the forest, which surrounded him on all sides, he also knew they were quite rare and spaced out, as they were territorial creatures. It also meant he had to keep his travels on the down low to prevent any unnecessary problems for himself.

There was a certain fear of the incoming awakening call that awaited Closed Tome. He knew it, and he also knew that knowing it was coming still wasn't enough. Experience was the only true answer, and he didn't have any yet. Etrethia was a miserable place to be, and ponies lived lives suffering and waiting for changes that they knew would never come. Some were okay with the state of things, but those were the leeches and opportunistic individuals of society better left off discarded.

Closed felt like the stories he'd been told as a child about happier times were nothing more than nonsense. When someone came to your door, it wasn't your saviour, it was the tax man.

Because that was reality. Even he had heard about Penketh's pains in divvying out funds each time Twilight Sparkles enforcers swung on by to collect their obscenely high rates. Closed assumed, then, that all of Etrethia must suffer under similar circumstances, and nowhere really flourished much because of it. Where all that money was going and why? Closed had no idea. Was Twilight Sparkle building a giant statue of herself for a thousand years? Or was it the more bitter and grounded reality - she just spent that much on her forces keeping everypony in check. He wouldn't be surprised.

But this was simply something Closed Tome had to work around. It wasn't his problem. If everypony else just wanted to give up and live boring lives and then die, that was their own problem. He wasn't going to go out like that.

Briefly, he thought back to that colt he'd spent a little bit of time with both yesterday and earlier today. That kid still had life to him, of that he was sure. Would he keep it? For how long? Perhaps being in that isolated pocket would help delay the inevitable.

Night was approaching, and he began to slow down and drop his things on the side of the dirt road. It was nice to finally rest after all that. He'd gone quite far, of that he was sure, so surely the remaining trip to the tavern in the morning wouldn't be too long. Perhaps that would be better than getting there all exhausted.

It probably wasn't going to be that cold tonight, but Closed got out his blanket he'd brought anyway. He'd wrap it around himself as well as under.

Even though he knew it was coming all along, it still got to him a little bit. The loneliness that came with his trip of solitude. It'd only been the majority of a day, and already he was missing others. It was a little pathetic, he admitted to himself. Still, having somepony else to talk to was always nice. That was why he needed to make it to that tavern as soon as possible in the morning.

Closed Tome was always a bit of a daydreamer, but having nothing to break it up and get you focused back on reality was something else. He'd been lost in his mind all day, and while at first it was okay, he was sure after a while it would get a little annoying.

But that was what adventure entailed. Sure, Closed dreamed big, but the reality was that it took a lot of work and most of the magic was in enjoying the long haul.

That kid had asked him about magic quite a bit, hadn't he?

It hit a swore spot for Closed Tome.

Ever since he was a small colt, he had wanted to cast magic just like his parents. Well, they may not have always done it, but there had been several times they had humoured him and felt pain purely to see his happiness. He didn't realize deserve that, and now looking back on it, he regretted asking them. Still, there was probably no other unicorns in a five hundred kilometre radius that could cast any of the magic he'd seen. It was a privilege that he'd seen what he had.

Closed also knew that they had willing hurt themselves to keep up the disguise. They chose to lose their magic.

Closed wondered how it went for the average unicorn out there. There was zero information or ponies to help guide them on magic at all, and they never made it to an age where they'd have the actual ability to manifest anything anyway. By then, they'd already have had the glimmer ritual forced upon them.

It was no wonder that the number of unicorns in the current day and age was so low. Apparently, it had once been similar to the other two tribes, but there was no way that could be said now.

So perhaps, when his parents saw that he was not actually one of them, but an earth pony, he wondered how conflicted they must have felt. Did they feel elation that their child was not condemned to the same fate as them, or did they see their line of unicorns fading into history like the rest of their tribe seemed be going.

Closed Tome had never really thought about kids too much, and he doubted he'd live to make it to an age where he'd even be considering them. But even then, what were the odds that he'd be able to continue his parents legacy they had probably been hoping for? Closed knew for sure that his family went back centuries at least, as they had been passing down information and protecting the lineage for a long time. Unicorns to unicorns. And now that was done for, because of him.

He frowned. It wasn't his fault, and it wasn't even a real problem for all he knew, but still it upset him.

It was funny, knowing that he was probably never going to become a father because of the life he wanted to live, but still upset at what that future would hold if he made it there anyway.

Finally, darkness was beginning to creep to a level where sleeping would be easier. The last vestiges of light begone.

It was weird. His whole life his parents had been telling him all these things about "The horrible Twilight Sparkle", but he couldn't help but wonder how many ponies alive even got to interact with this mare. What was she actually like? As far as he knew, she'd been cooped up in Vuidel, the capital city of Etrethia, locked away in some sort of fortress castle or something. They lived so far away, yet everypony had still heard of the name of the capital, details be bygones.

Perhaps there was a ring of fire around the city, and lightning struck every thirty minutes to scare the peasants into action. What a sight that'd be! He gave a laugh for the first time of his journey. Yet there was no one to share it. It didn't last long.

Well, whatever. Tomorrow would come, and he would continue his journey. Twilight wasn't his problem. That ancient mare probably had a thick layer of dust all over her from the amount of sitting on her pretty little throne.

Adjusting his spot, he laid against the side of the tree with the blanket set up just right to be under him as well as covering the part of the tree his side was laying against.

It took close to an hour of adjusting and moving around, but eventually he found the right spot.

Sleep took hold, and the moon watched over him for the night.

When Closed Tome woke up in the morning, it was not the most pleasant of ways to do so.

A bug was in his face, and he swatted it—and his face. He grabbed himself and just held for a minute.

Still, he had made it through the night. He knew that sleeping in the out and open was not exactly great, and didn't want to make too much of a habit out of it.

Groaning, he made to get up and pack away his blanket.

It was kind of dumb, but last night he had marked in the dirt the direction he had to go today to make sure he didn't accidentally go the wrong back back towards Penketh when he woke up.

He stretched as he stood up, and boy did it feel good.

Well, off he went.

It was still early morning, and while the sky was lit up, the sun had not risen above the tree line and where he could see. The air was crisp at this time, and he took in every bit of it. He also made sure to drink the last of the water he packed.

Not thirty minutes later - the approximate time it took Closed to really wake up fully, before the sign to the tavern came into view. He gave a hearty guffaw at the fact he knew deep down it was just right there last night, even if it he played it safe.

As the road came closer to the tavern, the road became partially cobbled. They had put some effort into it here. He also noticed that the path diverged into four other roads here.

For the Tavern itself, it was a little bit larger than Closed had been expecting. The large, timber-framed structure had weathered oak beams and a stone foundation. The roof was thatched and moss was creeping along the edges, spilling down the sides until being replaced by ivy on the walls.

He could hear a little bit of chatter inside. Good. He needed to see other ponies again, and perhaps they could help him.

The sign above the tavern door hung askew, its painted letters worn and long faded.

Hesitating for a moment at the door, after collecting himself for a moment Closed gave it a good push. The hinges groaned in protest, their sound bringing a low hum. He made his way in after opening it far enough.

Inside, there was around fifteen ponies if Closed had to guess. Most were too busy chatting it up and having a good time, many drinks on the bar table and about, to even notice him coming in. A few glanced his way, who were sitting in booths.

One of the ponies who did in fact notice him come in, was the bartender behind the counter.

"Morning. Anything I can get you for the new face?" he yelled over, and Closed waved his hoof no in response. The bartender immediately went back to work serving the other customers.

While Closed would definitely talk to him later, he wanted to check the place out for now.

The floorboards felt like they were sinking slightly under him, and it put him off. He looked down to see that they were quite warped.

The lighting inside was quite dim in certain places, but beams of light shone in through several windows, giving enough ambient light to the rest of the place. It gave a soft vibe that contrasted the relatively rambunctious atmosphere the patrons had provided so early here.

If he had arrived here last night, he would've been asking for a room right away. Now, instead, food was the only real use he had here, and the slight rest of figuring out where to go next.

Closed began wandering around, looking to see if there was any isolated pony he could talk to, or even a map. He quickly realized the pony part was not happened, so he began scanning the walls.

Not much luck.

"What'cha looking for?"

The bartender had left his station, it seemed; for now.

Closed Tome hesitated. It was a simple question, but Closed couldn't help but clamp up because of the lifelong paranoia he'd slowly gained by living with his parents. He knew that there was absolutely nothing incriminating on his person, unlike home, but this was something he'd have to learn to relax on. Until he was further in his journey, anyway. It also didn't help that Closed had always known all of the ponies of his small little village since birth. It had always been so easy to communicate with them because of the shared connection.

But that was also why he'd been simulating conversations of this exact moment during his walk.

He had to say something before things became awkward. Despite his suspicious mindset, he knew the probability of this pony being anything other than what he appeared to be incredibly low.

"To be honest, something or somepony to help give me some sense of direction. It's my first time leaving town to head out this way. You've heard of Penketh?"

"Penketh is an old name, almost never hear of anypony mentioning it these days despite the proximity. I do know of a map just further down the road to the south. There's a village there, and I happen to know the inn keeper there as well. Old buddy of mine. Proudly presents it at his place. Bugger brags about it every time I see him. You could also ask around here," he waved a hoof at all the ponies present in a circular motion, "but besides that, would you be interested in some food or ale?"

Closed had to resist raising an eyebrow or making any unpleasant face at the mention of ale.

"I suppose... some breakfast would do me some good before heading out. Anything cheap?"

It'd taken a second, but his nerves were coming down.

"Cheapest we have is probably the hash browns, but we also ha—"

"I'll take them. How much?"

"Fair enough... three bits. Please, take a seat."

Noding and following the keepers guidance, he sat down at the main counter. The chair was surprisingly soft, with sheep wool being used on the top layer. It also spun. He wondered how that worked.

"It will just be a few minutes."

There was only a single empty chair between Closed and the nearest pony also sitting at the counter, and the line had around ten ponies, most of them sitting side to side and chatting casually.

Even though Closed wanted to just ignore them, he couldn't help but listen to one conversation.

"—and the ponies seriously thought they could avoid paying their dues to Alryne. I'm glad I wasn't anywhere near that place when Twilight Sparkle's wrath descended on that place. I heard the mayors entrails were used to tie up several several victims, poor bastards."

"Did they let anypony go this time around?"

"What do you think? They burned the whole damn place down. It's the same as always, Rex, only the colts and fillies made it out, why would this time be any different?"

Closed stared straight ahead with darkened eyes, trying to use his nose to smell the cooking rather than use his ears. It was painfully ineffective.

"Yeah... I guess. You'd think if they couldn't pay tribute they'd just run out of dodge long before the Obsidian Legion got there."

There was a pause for a moment.

"I know what I said, but... there's another theory I heard. I think it makes a lot more sense."

The other pony leaned in.

"I heard the mayor was caught reading in private. They never knew the wrath was coming till the last second. Whatever he was reading, I doubt it exists anymore. Surprised the poor bastard even knew how to read. Only those few in Alryne really know how to these days, and even then it's rare."

"And you believe this...?"

The plate with hash browns arrived, and Closed began eating while continuing to pretend to not be listening.

"I don't know what to believe anymore, but it certainly seems a bit more believable for why they were caught off guard."

"I agree, but I just... it's just hard to believe there's that many books left out there. They've been practically extinct for five hundred years. They didn't mess around after Sparkle changed the law."

"But it's still possible... right? Either way, the town most likely got what it deserved, the idiots."

"You can say that again."

They changed conversation, and Closed had finally stopped paying attention once it turned toward mare-talk.

Finally, Closed finished his meal and brought the three bits out of his saddlebag to leave on the counter. He'd already used three of eighty that he'd brought with him for the trip. It wasn't going to last long at this rate, but that was to be expected.

"Hey Keep, can you give me more details on this place down South? I need to make sure I don't miss it."

Scanning the counter for the bits and then onto Closed, he spoke just loud enough for Closed to hear over the other customers.

"It's called the Jagged Inn, why I don't know. It's about twenty kilometres south of here to be exact. You'll be able to tell by the slanted roofing."

Closed moved to head towards the door.

"Leaving so soon? Why not stay and let the food settle first. We offer more than just that, you know."

Head facing away, Tome made his response: "I appreciate the offer, but I really must get going."

He heard, "Alright then, safe travels." as he came back outside. He'd only been in there for thirty-ish minutes, and already he'd been dying to get out. Besides, the earlier he got going, the farther he'd be able to go before sun down he thought.

Since he had come from the east, all he needed to do was take the path that went left coming from the road he had just been on to head south. Because the tavern had been on the right side of the road, that meant he simply went straight forward now. The two roads to his right split off into two different angles towards the north, one being more towards the west. He wondered how far they went and to where. Until he saw a map, every direction was a mystery.

He'd wasted a chance to ask around for more information, but somehow he didn't feel too bad about that.

It was a good thing it was the start of Spring. He'd picked the easiest time to start his travels, and he had a lot of time until the next winter to have easier movement. He wanted to cover a lot of ground as quickly as possible. There was too much to see, too much to find.

Well, nothing to do but move forward.

The sun rays beamed down as it crest near the zenith of the sky on the arc it followed endlessly, and there was no clouds to dimmer the beauty it brought.

Closed Tome was appreciative of the mountain he'd seen on the left side of the dirt path, through the gaps in the trees. The top part of it stood out, above the view of the peak of the tree line, but occasionally he got to see the majority of it in it's glory. He swore he saw a river near the bottom, of which the source he could not find with his eyes.

It was small differences in the local topography that made all the difference for him.

It helped ease his mind of the vivid images it refused to stop producing of himself being replaced with that poor mayor.

How many times had he read in his life, so casually? It was probably in the thousands. Of course, it was the same books over and over, especially as he had grown older and more capable. His parents had taught him from a young age how to read, but it had all started with his mother reading to him until he fell asleep as a little colt.

It brought a smile to his lips amidst the turbulent negative spiral he'd been in.

Even within their small village, where everypony knew everypony, even among their closest family friends, only a hoof full of others knew they had books at all. That is to say, ponies his parents had known their entire lives. And of those, he'd only seen one inside their home while a book was actually exposed and not locked away in their hidden basement. Mr. Urek, their next door neighbour and best friend of decades. He'd always been around for as long as Closed could remember, and was the kindest pony. Always offering help and he had spent a lot of time at their place. His parents had explained to him that he'd lost his partner long ago to sickness, and that coming over to spend time with them was something he desperately needed, and they were all the more happy to provide.

Even at a young age, he had wondered if being so secretive and careful had been warranted in such a small town.

Surely Twilight Sparkle didn't have a plant in every single town in all of Etrethia? Well, perhaps that was naive. Any pony could be a rat in the end. It was more than clear that the reward for exposing those that broke those laws that harboured things Twilight Sparkle deemed "dangerous" was life changing enough that ponies would sell out those they had lived and worked with their entire lives. As much as Closed hated to admit, it was realistic. That account he had heard was a reality check if he'd ever heard one. Even if it was possibly a fabrication or outright false information.

The fact was, it exposed how ponies were. If they could bring it up like that, then those thoughts existed as a possibility in the majority of ponies.

He'd only been on the road for a few hours now, and the fatigue of yesterday was wearing him down. Yet again he cursed the fact that he seemingly had zero benefit that came of being an earth pony.

It was also to his surprise than he'd past a group of merchants, donkeys, passing him by and heading where he had come from. He didn't dare interact with them.

There'd been a lone donkey family in Penketh for around a decade now. They'd stuck out at first, but had worked hard to fit in. He'd always liked them. Kept to themselves while helping out when they could.

It was like seeing a little piece of home, while knowing deep down that the next thing he past would be something he'd never even heard of.

It was reassuring to see any living creature coming from the direction he was heading. That meant there was definitely something out there. While he didn't think it was likely at all that the inn keeper had lied to him, as there was very little reason to do so, he had no idea if it was another isolated establishment, or a part of a larger community.

He wasn't sure which he preferred.

Switching up his thought process, he began to ruminate on the reality of his situation.

While his ultimate goal was adventure in-itself, and to see the world at large, it was also a long held desire to find and collect things which were certainly illegal, and that would eventually put himself in danger. He was not ignorant of this.

On one hoof, the alicorn artifacts were non-negotiable points of his list. While he doubted Twilight Sparkle would ever allow a pony to carry such things, he also doubted it'd be enforced much considering the dubious nature of their existence. This was because deep down, he knew that as star-struck and hopeful that they existed, some ancient book his parents had wasn't exactly a foolhardy proof of existence.

For all he knew, they were simply fantasy and he was chasing smoke, and if that was true how much of his life would be wasted? Well, it would never be a true waste he reminded himself, as the process was exactly what he desired, but it would be quite sad if he never turned up anything.

He wanted to believe with all his heart that they really did exist.

But... following the story he'd learned as a child, it was clear that these items had been worn by alicorns that had been defeated by Twilight Sparkle. Logically following that, a depressing line of logic followed. Twilight Sparkle had collected all of them, and either locked them away somewhere near herself that was secure, or was wearing them as of this moment.

While he never wanted to travel anywhere near the capital, this was information he would need to confirm at some point. He just hoped Twilight Sparkle was actually exposing herself to anypony at all. If she kept to the shadows while giving orders in the same manner Closed desired to keep himself hidden, that would make his life a lot more difficult to ever confirm anything. What a headache that'd be.

And yet, that little story he'd heard had sparked some level of hope.

Because while those artifacts were one part of the list, finding books to read was another.

Especially books that contained anything related to magic.

He couldn't help it. Books represented forgotten knowledge. The unknown. It was the exact same thing as adventure in that sense! Who knew what ponies of a bygone era had recorded or said? Closed Tome wasn't sure how far back pony civilization truly went, but he knew it was more than a millennium. That was a long time for different eras to have left their mark on the world, left to be uncovered in any recorded accounts. He hoped.

To him, it was simple. If his parents had managed to preserve books, surely there was somepony else out there who had done the same? There was zero chance that his parents had been the only successful ones, and that mayor was possible evidence of this.

It was for that reason alone he was more hopeful that he'd have actual success there. He was going to put the reading skills his parents had taught him to good use on this journey of his, he had to believe that.

His parents had often warned him of keeping out of trouble, as that aligned with their vision for how his trip and life would go. Little did they know, he had entirely different plans. Sure, there were a few points that aligned, but he sure as tartarus wasn't living such a boring life as they had intended. He was not a tool for their ambitions, and pretending to be one in order for them to let him leave easily had been a burden he had not expected to be so tiresome. But that was over now, thank goodness.

All of this came crashing down in the current predicament of his own making. He felt that conflict was an inevitability in his life, and so he wanted to be ready for it.

Closed Tome had never fought another pony in his life, let alone any other living being. He didn't want his first to be the death of him. His life being at the whim of another terrified him, and that would not do.

This led him to the same process he had before he'd left his town. Training.

He had to figure out a way to do it as safely as possible. It was his hope that he could alleviate his fear of physical engagement and prepare him for the worst.

He was going to leave it on the back burner for now, but it was going to continue to be something that ate away in the back of his mind.

There was also the long term struggles he'd be facing soon enough. Already, he only had seventy seven bits to his name. If he bought more food and a room for the night, he'd be out a significant portion of his money in no time at all. He had little desire to work, but that was the only real way to make bits. Finding a quick job to do wherever he travelled was not exactly a likely scenario either. And this wasn't even accounting for the fact he fully intended to spend long periods of time in the wilderness searching. What would he do then? His survivalist skills were highly limited. Starving to death because he wasn't prepared and too eager wasn't even funny.

Oh how he hated how much he stressed and tortured himself mentally sometimes. Over and over he had to remind himself that it was one hoof at a time, but his brain refused to listen and continued its tumultuous storm of worries.

He stopped and took a deep breath. After repeating that about ten times, he simply scanned his surroundings.

Having lost track of time yet again, he was forced to search the skies for the sun. It appeared that he had about four or five hours to go before it got dark still. That was good.

But beyond that, he was surprised to see a bush with fruit off the beaten path. It was unlikely he would have spotted it while on the move, so he felt it almost fortuitous that he'd stopped here and spotted it.

Making his way closer and into the forest, he began to get a closer look. As far as he could tell, it was blueberries. There were a few spots in Penketh where he'd found blueberries, and these looked remarkably similar.

Despite his visual analysis trying to find any peculiar difference in the memory he had of those plants in the past to what he was seeing now, because being poisoned due to accidentally eating something that looked safe but wasn't was a worst case scenario, he could find nothing that differentiated it from the safe pickings he'd had in the past.

And, after trying a berry, the delicious memory lined up as well to the dance of flavour on his tongue.

Rejoicing, he began to eat all he could find. There was no way something this delicious and sweet could be toxic.

The emergency food he'd brought with him was not something he wanted to waste so soon. Not that he would've ever consumed it if all went to plan and he made it to the next location by tonight, but if anything went wrong he would not be starving now.

It was a decent meal, as the bush was quite large, and when he made it back to the dirt road he was feeling rejuvenated. He also had a small canteen of water in his saddlebag, approximately half full from the occasional sip. He was hoping to hear a stream to fill it up at some point if he didn't make it to the Jagged Inn by tonight.

Maybe he was being too calculated. What-ifs for such unlikely possibilities felt like a waste of mental energy, and he vowed to try and reduce them despite knowing deep down just how unlikely that really was.

Something to work on was something to work on he supposed.

He began whistling a light tune to try and stop thinking so much as he continued onward.

Opposite to last night, Closed Tome reached civilization before complete nightfall this time around. It had been less distance this time around, but his legs had felt like the opposite.

There was zero chance he wasn't sleeping somewhere there tonight. He needed it.

That was because, sitting here before him hung the sign for the town of Leba. There was a wooden fence that turned into an archway and back into a fence, where the road ran through straight into town and it transitioned into cobble. You could tell that the beams were roughly hewn and aged, as time had clearly taken its toll. Rows of buildings lined the street. You could tell that the road was well travelled, as it was marked by the deep grooves of countless wagon wheels and the imprints of many different creatures. While the journey in had been marked by a foliage that had encroached partially on the road, it had become well maintained as you neared the entrance.

The crisp and fresh air he'd grown accustomed to warped into a more foul stench, as though a loss of innocence had taken place upon the land.

He just hoped the town wasn't so big as for it to be difficult to find the inn.

Feelingly slightly off-kilter, he brought out his canteen and chugged. He'd forgotten to keep drinking. Now, he had an empty canteen and a belly swooshing with liquid.

He began to make his way into town, and the population did not disappoint. Dozens of ponies walked to and fro, as well as a few more donkeys, as well as a plethora of creatures he did not recognize. He was quite surprised to see a large beast accompanied by a serpentine creature. It made him question whether he was started to hallucinate things. Were they not dangerous? They certainly looked the part. Why did no one else seem to notice them?

But no... this was what he should've been expecting, having joined the real world outside the cradle that is Penketh.

What caught his eye was the two large horns of the brown furred creature, and how it stood on two legs rather than four. It had piercing amber eyes and a large snout that you could hear from a mile away. It was holding a large axe, the weight of which must've been massive. There was no way Closed could carry something of that size or weight. It looked heavy even from far away. His neck would've broken from the strain.

Whatever it was, it was conversing with the lizard like creature, who surprisingly seemed to be on good terms with the aforementioned monster. Closed couldn't hear what they were saying, as he had a good distance between himself and them, and the ponies which passed him were all mostly in conversation, blocking out any chances he would've had anyway.

Looking around, he found a pony that looked like some kind of guard. He had a helmet on and had a blade holstered to his side, ready to be grabbed with his mouth in a second if needed. He could see the blade was curved through the design of the holster.

"Excuse me, do you have a moment?" he asked with as much confidence as he could muster. It wasn't that he was shy, rather it still felt strange to interact with others so far from home. He had no idea if it was even normal or something the guard would tolerate while seemingly on duty. His stern expression said as much.

Not giving so much as a look, the guard stayed focused on scanning the streets for trouble. He did respond, however, in a surprisingly lazy manner: "What is it?"

Closed Tome was exhausted, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. It almost always did.

"Would you mind telling me what kind of creature those two are over there?" he lifted a hoof and pointed, which clearly caught the side eye of the guard, "I've never seen as much before."

"S'nothing much, although I suppose you don't see a minotaur and dragonkin at the same time too often. The big horny one is the minotaur, if you haven't figured that out yet."

"I see... so they're pretty rare?"

"Well, both of them are quite far from their homelands, so yeah, I'd say so. One must wonder what they've teamed up to accomplish."

"And how do you know they've teamed up?"

"Comes with the job, son. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to what I was doing."

"Sure... thank you."

Giving the supposed duo one last glance, he moved on.

Oh. He'd forgotten to ask about the inn with the map. He'd missed his opportunity because he got off track too easily. He sighed.

He started asking ponies who seemed to be on their own, but none of them seemed to know the place he was talking about. The ire it brought when the realization that he'd probably been lied to brought a scowl to his face, but it wasn't to last as he was too tired for that. He had to find some place for the night, and this town was far too big not to have some place to fit the bill.

Eventually, he changed his questioning for any tavern or lodge at all, and was quickly told to head for the Midnight Inn.

Slumping through a few corners of town, and almost getting knocked over by a pony not paying attention, he finally saw the sign that hung from the overcast part of the roof that matched what he was looking for.

The population of Leba were neutral in his opinion. Neither too friendly or harsh. He was hoping that pattern would continue and he could have a relatively relaxing stay here. Well, for now, anyway.

Inside was far more chaotic than he would've liked. There were far too many ponies here, and most of them were drunk. It took him a solid minute just to find a pony that worked there.

"Excuse me!" he yelled over the cacophony surrounding him, "would it be possible to get a room for the night?!"

The mare, who had been serving drinks, twisted her head and yelled "what?" back.

Wanting to facehoof, he started forcing his way through the crowd towards her. She had finished dropping off the drinks she had, so when he got there he had her full attention.

"I was just asking for a room to stay the night. Please."

She must've seen the state he was in, because she gave a sympathetic expression. He was too tired to care, and just hoped she had actually heard him this time.

"Sure, I can go grab you a key for room seven A, it'll be fifteen bits, sir."

Closed Tome rushed to open his bag, and quickly dispensed the bits onto the plate she'd be using to serve the drinks. It was slightly unorthodox, but they were making it work for such a busy time. After counting the bits, she ran off and he watched her go so he wouldn't lose her.

Following her, she had surprisingly moved through the crowd with an ease of which he hadn't imagined possible. This must've been the normal around here, that was for sure.

Coming back with a pair of keys, he appreciably took them with his mouth and was pointed in the direction of the stairs without even needing to ask.

Heading up, he was glad that the door numbering system was simple. It didn't quite make sense in his opinion, but at least it was followed easily. It went from one A to C, two A to C, and so forth. It wasn't long until he had reached his room, carefully placed the key in and twisted his neck to open the door.

He then retrieved the key and moved inside. It wasn't much of a surprise that it contained the bare minimum, especially for the price. It may have cost him a lot in relation to how much money he had, but the reality was just that he didn't have that much in the first place.

Closing the door and locking it behind him, he found the locking mechanism from the inside was simple, as you just turned it until it clicked and vice versa to unlock it.

There was a small window besides the bed, a small table, and that was it. Can't ask for much more, right? That bed, which was plain as could be, was infinitely better than what he had last night. Besides, he'd throw on his blanket again in addition to the one they had.

Dropping his saddlebag on the table, he sat down on the bed.

Taking a gander through the window and to the small view it provided, he was welcomed with the pleasant sight of a rising moon highlighting the plumes of smoke pouring forth from the chimney of several buildings, which almost disguised the few lanterns that were lit in the streets that provided narrow beacons of detail to the night life here in Leba. Further away, rolling hills faded into the darkness which competed with the forests before them that had swallowed all light whole long before it had reached the hills.

After admiring the view for long enough period of time, he allowed himself to lay down.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day. Bigger than everything so far.

Sure, he'd been on the move and had actually made quite the distance so far, but it was time for him to start collating information from the local area so that he had any kind of direction to his journey. For as much as he enjoyed aimless wander as long as it brought him something new to discover, he still had goals he wanted to achieve.

Finding the map was of utmost importance, but even more so was trying to find some sort of point of interest within that. He'd have to ask around for rumour or something of the like. There was something else he had to do, and the idea for how to get it done was starting to materialize in his mind, but he really dreaded thinking about it. He was definitely going to have to leave it for last.

Closed Tome personally felt that being far out and away from dense population centres was best for discovering anything at all. It was likely in his opinion that this was already achieved out here, but he still lacked the information to make sure. If no one had found an ancient artifact by now, it wasn't close to any large populations, that was for sure. Although he wasn't exactly convinced many beings were searching either. Not like he was.

Taking the time to get his blanket out, he stopped to stare at it for a moment. His mother had wrapped him in it a million times in his youth, and he swore he could still faintly smell her scent from it even now. It reminded him of home, and it was home, a piece of it, anyway.

Closed Tome had always been a loner. He'd long since accepted that. Never all that close to the few other ponies his age growing up, he'd been isolated in personality and lifestyle.

It wasn't that he was lonely, but for as much as he had problems with his parents at times, he still missed the familiarity and company they had provided. It wasn't his fault he surmised, he'd simply lived his entire life thus far a single way - with others, and now that had changed. It was impossible that wouldn't affect him for a while.

Penketh had been a boring place, and to be honest he'd found most excitement in his own home, reading about stories and places other than his own birthplace had been more interesting. But still, it was his.

He knew, deep down, that there was a very realistic chance he'd never meet any of the inhabitants of Penketh ever again, never walk it streets, and never see his family ever again.

And that was okay, he told himself.

As he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, a lone tear that had sneakily made its way down his cheek was a phantom thing, for he never even felt it as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Closed Tome woke up and immediately stretched his limbs out. For a moment, he cramped, and it caused him to jump out of bed. Heart going a lot faster than it should be, he felt it relax and sat back down on the bed.

While a little stiff still, he felt a lot better. He'd be able to get a lot done today.

He was also glad to see that through the window, while he couldn't quite see the sun, he could see the shadows across the buildings it created and noted that it was still early morning. The shadows were sideways.

Placing his blanket back into his saddlebag, he placed it back onto his back. It wasn't too heavy, as he had always planned to travel light. The emergency grain bar he'd gone out of his way to purchase before he left was still wrapped up nicely at the bottom. While he didn't want to eat it until the time was right, he also couldn't wait forever as it'd spoil. Sometime after he left Leba would probably be best he thought.

Unlocking the door, leaving the room and then re-locking it took less than a minute, and soon enough he was back on his way downstairs to the main part of the inn.

To his satisfaction, it was far less rowdy now. The morning crowd was a different bunch than the party crazed of the night. Who knew how many ponies were the same as last night? Probably not that many.

Just as he was making his way to see the older stallion at the bar, something caught his eye that made his jaw drop.

Right there on the wall was a map. It was a beautiful map. It was beautiful because it was a map! Pivoting, he dashed towards it. It wasn't some country wide map, but it certainly showed the surrounding area quite well! He could work with this. He counted twenty two named villages slash towns total, and they were mostly spaced out. What he did notice was that Leba was mostly to the right side of the map.

He was a bit frustrated by the lack of detail otherwise. A small text label and a little picture represented most geographically significant areas. A few arrow like symbols pointing upwards did not exactly tell him how large the "Barrath mountains" were. The worst part was the fact there was zero reference of distance. He had no idea if it was ten kilometres to the next town or one hundred.

Well, it was more than he thought he'd be getting so quickly. Perhaps fortune was on his side.

Wait, why hadn't he noticed this last night? Had he really been so tired? Perhaps ponies had simply flooded his view to this side of the interior, and tired as he was he simply didn't notice through the gaps.

After studying it for several minutes, he came up with a few questions he'd ask the bartender or other patrons if he felt them approachable enough.

Asking the questions was simple enough. It one was thing to discuss casual topics, it was another to have a controlled and directed conversation about something you were passionate about. The keeper was more than willing to chip in details, and a fellow pony—who'd taken an interest—chipped in, too. Closed would've been out of his comfort zone normally in a situation like this, but for today it was okay. Perhaps the excitement had taken hold a bit more than expected.

What he'd learned was everything. Far to the south lay the Forest of Ichor, which eventually cleared and descended down into the Screaming Valley. They said that those that made it as far as the valley eventually tried to retreat back into the forest, only to be paralyzed by some unknown fear. This was by far the most fantastical location that'd been pointed out to him, and he knew that it was most likely his first real adventure into the wilderness.

He'd be lying if the story didn't find the story a little bit worrying, the pit in his stomach having made its presence clear on the thought of it. But, like many things in life, it was something you had to overcome. He didn't leave his village to get spooked and then head home, that was for sure.

That didn't mean being careless, either, though. He was going to be as cautious as possible. Maybe chasing any bizarre tale was a dangerous game, but what other choice did he have? You weren't going to find the mythical in the comfort of bed.

Breakfast was quick and cheap, something he figured he was going to get used to until his purse ran dry. That wasn't far off already, and he dreaded the day. What made breakfast special was an offhoof comment he'd made about not finding the place he'd originally been looking for, and learning from the Keep who corrected him that the place had been renamed around a year ago, changed from 'Jagged Inn'. Go figure.

He owed somepony a mental apology now.

It was a silver lining that he'd spent a bit of time back in Penketh asking old Willowbell about plants safe for consumption in the Yahi forest. Willowbell had gone out with him and personally guided him, one by one.

Sure, there would probably not be a lot of crossover the further he got from home, but it was something.

Closed Tome was so consumed in his thoughts that he almost forgot to pay for the food, but after a quick toss he was on his way to see more of the town.

Excitement was high and there was still more to be learned while he was here. The cobble clapped under his energetic bounce of a step.

But it wasn't to last, for not a minute after leaving the Midnight Inn a ponies yell broke his lively trance. He stopped to see what was going on, and it wasn't long until he was peering up one of the few towers here in Leba. How did that pony get up there at the top?

"Do you hear me?!" The unicorn's voice cracked, sharp and desperate. "Do any of you even care anymore? Or have you all just... just accept this?! Looks at us! Look at me! We're a third of ponykind, are we not?!" His horn, jagged and dull, something that had become normalized in Closed mind, as he assumed did in others, caught the weak morning light. The unicorn threw his head back, tears streaking his hollow cheeks.

The air in town was thick, stale, and suddenly felt suffocating. A cart rumbled past, its wooden wheels clacking over the cobblestones chipped and uneven, echoing faintly into the stillness that'd gathered. The buildings were tired, slouching together in a way that felt as though the world had sunken in, closing it off.

More quietly, this time, but still loud enough to be heard by most on the thoroughfare he added: "We're not slaves. We're not broken tools. We're—" A look of realization, or perhaps something more entered his eyes as the words caught in his throat. He swallowed on trembling legs.

Just what was this unicorn saying? He started to make out more and more details of the agitated equine. He was pure white of coat, with a blonde mane and tale that melted into a reddish-orange near the ends. It was hard to make out, but the pony was clearly in rough shape. He was clearly underweight, and his face was sunken, as though he hadn't slept in weeks. Closed was able to make out that much after inching closer.

What surprised Closed Tome the most was the fact that few ponies or other quadrupeds really reacted or even acknowledged the pony in crisis. Most just went on with their day, like it was any other. A few stopped to watch, and after scanning the crowd he saw that there was an older unicorn mare sitting on a shabby bench. She seemed... stretched. Like one of her children was making the same grave mistake she'd warned against a thousand times, and the emotional toll had drained her. He couldn't help but notice she shared the same defining trait all unicorns had - a cracked horn.

Closed didn't remember when the unicorn stopped orating. The next thing he knew, there was just the sound of splatter, a faint gasp, and then... silence. All sound disappeared from the world as realization hit. The sound of silence that presses down on you like a weight, heavier than any scream. In fact, his vision had narrowed so much it could only see one thing, and one thing alone.

The unicorn lay crumped like a discarded doll, limbs splayed at unnatural angles. His once bright coat soaked with crimson blood. Half of his face had been crushed, and the eye there had become something unrecognizable.

He wanted to shout, to run, to do anything, anything at all rather than stare. His legs refused to move, but his stomach had no such qualms. Around him, the crowd, if you'd even call it that, shuffled on as if nothing had happened. A mare sighed, and it allowed him to finally break his focus. The older mare he'd seen earlier had closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

A creature which had been described to him as a sheep not ten minutes ago during his exchanges mentioned something about being late.

His heart was pounding, and fight as he could the content of his stomach—which had not digested much yet, found its way onto the curb as he turned away. He panted, and fought the urge to puke again. He barely won.

Time passed, and Closed Tome stomach remained twisted in knots. Eventually, several ponies came to clean up the mess, as well as the blockage on the road.

Was this... really just normal here? The revelation slammed his conscious. The implications were far worse.

Tentative plans vanished from the back of his mind.

Closed Tome had lived a sheltered life so far. He'd always been faintly aware of it. The worst injury he'd seen was a wolfs bites in his home town, from a pony who'd had the unfortunate luck to be caught out in its territory at the wrong time. This was all so different. All so wrong.

Closed also thought of his parents. Were they too under this kind of pressure? He refused to believe that. Life was different in Penketh. He had to believe that.

That was right, ponies lived differently there. He mustn't let himself get carried away. Deep breaths.

He almost wanted to scream at the crowd himself. Didn't any of them care? But Closed Tome was not that kind of pony, and that would never happen.

What he did know, under rapid realization, was that an escapade out of this hellhole was quickly becoming his favourite option.

His stunned nature was broken by something walking into him, practically knocking him over from his sitting position. He barely caught himself with his two front hooves.

"Watch where you're sitting! You're in everyone's way there."

And the pony was off, as quickly as they'd come. They spat to the side, landing just off of Closed.

Dark thoughts consumed Closed Tome, and he got up. The town had returned to normal, so why shouldn't he?

It had been a strange day.

Closed Tome had got the necessities done. Filled his canteen with water from the town well.

He'd been walking mindlessly for hours. He'd 'seen' much but comprehended little. Perhaps he'd seen the majority of what this place had to offer. It was all too much if you asked him, even though he found himself continuing on anyway. His mind was too static to register anything fully. Shapes blurred into one another—shops, houses, ponies, the lot. Until the town itself felt like an endless loop he was doomed to repeat.

Not really sure why, he kept walking, he was searching for something or perhaps fleeing from nothing. He arrived right back at where he'd started. The Midnight Inn. It was a beehive of activity, and against better judgment he moved in. It reeked of stale sweat, old wood, and spilled dreams. Against his better judgment, Closed Tome pushed through the warped doors. Inside, the air was thick with the sour tang of sweat and cider. The noise hit him like a storm—raucous laughter and murmurs too low to ever catch.

Ponies in the crowd pushed him back and forth as he made his way to the bar counter, they were rowdy and energetic.

Closed Tome sat down. The stallion besides him leaned heavily against the scarred oak counter. His coat was patchy, muddy brown, and his mane lay limp over his eyes, clinging to his forehead. His half-empty glass of cider sat neglected in front of him, its amber contents gleaming a tempting whisper.

"Y'know," he slurred, his voice cutting through the cacophonous mixture around them, "me and my brother... we aint saints, but we get things done. Things other ponies don't got the guts to do."

It was unfair and unrelated, but it dialed up a simmer of anger within Closed to hear those words after what had happened today.

The pony besides him was clearly further gone, and meagrely gave a nod. Closed assumed that he wasn't paying attention, the act of simply facing that way giving false pretenses.

"Ponies think they know right an' wrong," he continued, his head lolling as he stared into his warped reflection held in his drink. "But when push comes to shove, they don't got the stones to do what's necessary. Me an' Slate? We do."

Closed Tome, who'd already ordered and had been waiting for service while listening, finally got his drink brought to him. It tasted awful, and he was glad to find something that matched his spirits. This would do. Forget about the measly bits he needed to budget.

Time went by, and enough drinks were had that Closed began to feel a bit, what was it, 'tipsy', they called it? Closed had zero desire to lose all control like those around him, but perhaps this was a pleasant compromise.

"You know what the worst part is?" The same pony who'd caught his attention before circled its way back in. "The worst part is, he deserved it," he said, his intoned voice suddenly serious. "The bastard deserved it. And I can live with that."

Something snapped in Closed as connections that didn't exist and he didn't want to be making came together. It bothered him. It bothered him greatly. But his mind was lulled by drink, and the curtain of shadows that followed him all day prevented him from fixating.

He remembered something from his vague planning, and uninhibited he now felt like now was the time. Calculated thoughts began to sprout.

"Ponies like me..."

"Ponies like you..." The words fell from his lips before he even registered the decision to speak. They hung in the air, heavy and bitter. "Ponies like you who think they're the axis of morality..." why was he saying this? "...you make me sick."

He'd been skirting around the idea of something happening, but now that it was he locked up.

"Axis...?" The stallion turned towards him, his bloodshot eyes narrowing in confusion. "Axis? Morality?" he repeated, dragging the words out. His lips curled into a sloppy imitation of a smirk. "Big words for a pony sittin' alone in a place like this."

Closed Tome's jaw tightened. The words had been a crack in the dam. Now, with the stallion staring him down, the air felt thick and heavy. The stallion was quickly realizing what he'd actually said. Closed needed to do something.

"You sit here, actin' like you're better than us." His voice had taken an threatening connotation, as it lowered in volume. "You don't know a damn thing Ponies like you—" Closed Tome threw his glass.

The shattering of glass could be turned, but Closed was turned away. He faced forward, eyes dark.

The stallion slowly turned towards where it'd been thrown, sucked in by the shock of the action, and Closed knew what he saw. A pony outraged at whoever had the audacity to throw a glass at him, for seemingly no reason. Under these circumstances, there was no way sober logic would prevail.

Closed heard the pony approaching, and just as tensions rose and the stallion turned back towards Closed - most likely to explain it wasn't him, Closed acted first. Without warning, Closed lashed out, his hoof slamming into the stallions jaw with a crack. The force sent the stallion off his chair and falling to crash hard on the ground with his back.

For a moment, there was silence. a breathless pause as the stallion staggered, his eyes wide with shock.

Then chaos erupted.

The stallion quickly stood despite the hit, surprisingly resilient for the state he should of been in. The stallion roared, his sluggish movements fueled by drunken rage as he began to attempt his physical reply.

He'd utterly forgotten about the pony who'd thought him the instigator. He was charged into the counter, and Closed Tome, who'd been preparing to prevent his teeth from being knocked out, had to flinch.

There was no turning back now.

The two rolled over, and to Closed surprise the tackled had become the aggressor on top.

For whatever reason, fighting had already broken out across the board. How had that happened so quickly?

Deciding that waiting for somepony to pick him out as a victim himself, he attacked that same stallion again. He slammed his shoulder to his side, and once again sent him down. The pony beneath him pushed his way up, and just as Closed was going to continue his assault he was blindsided himself by that same pony.

He'd been hit right in the gut, and Closed Tome was sent down. He was truly a weaker pony physically in all manners it seemed. He was reeling, and just glad his head hadn't been knocked around.

The pain was immense, and for a pony who'd lived such a sheltered life it shook him to his core. In the back of his mind, he'd been telling himself that he had to prepare for this. But it just wasn't possible to prepare for the feeling of pain. It striped you bare and kept you down if you were caught lacking.

It was tough, but this was not enough to crumble his spirit. If one hit was enough to keep him down, then he'd be some creatures lunch out in the wilderness. He had to keep going. If you're going to dish it out, you better be ready to receive in turn after all.

Fearing for the worst, he half expected to be pounded into submission without relent right then and there.

For whatever reason, the pony he'd tackled had rejoined the fray and now fought his new opposition. Perhaps he was so drunk he'd forgotten who was who, or even worse, lost himself to blind rage.

While they began exchanging blows, Closed forced himself back up. He would finish what he started, and get the hell out of here. That was all he could think of right now.

While hard to enter the melee, they also weren't going anywhere. They were both clearly drunk, and this was not a particularly focused fight to begin with. They were obviously sluggish, and it didn't take long for Closed to swing and miss, backing off when the response was a wild swing of the hoof. Unlike them, he wasn't drunk enough to forget the pony he'd started this with.

Maybe he was just taking out today on this pony, or perhaps this pony deserved it with how he'd presented himself to be.

Closed didn't care right now.

The brawl continued, and Closed Tome got hit several times, albeit not nearly as bad the first time. He also managed to land a few more blows. It was a tough dynamic, because it was essentially a three-way fight.

There came a point where his target got knocked backwards and became stunned. He was clearly reaching exhaustion and recovering slowly. Deciding to take a risk, Closed jumped up on two hooves and bucked him as hard as he could. Even if he saw it coming, there was no way he would've been able to respond properly enough at this point.

He subsequently flew into a chair and shattered through it. He groaned and stayed down, passing out.

Breathing hard, Closed began to turn away after steadying himself when the forgotten member of their little trio came flying towards him.

Closed was unable to react when his head smashed into his own.

He fell to the floor, clutching his head and barely conscious. He told himself he just needed to stay down, and hopefully the pony would move on. In the meanwhile, he would do his best to gather himself to walk out of this place before things got too ugly for himself.

And, serendipity be blessed, that was exactly what happened.

Getting stepped on a few times as ponies shifted while they fought wasn't too bad, and eventually he was able to get up.

Vision blurry, it was all he could do to start trying to weave his way towards the door and out.

The next few minutes was indeed a blur as Closed got pushed around in his effort to leave, but he did eventually make it.

Spending the night here again, while probably the smart thing to do, was not an option. Closed wanted out. He had to get out of this place full of nightmares that'd dragged him down in spirit and body. Closed Tome was not a rash pony, but he was and never would've been ready for today. Escalation had just felt inevitable.

Even in this raddled, tired state of mind, Closed could briefly remember the path out of town. Stick to the main roads to prevent confusion. He'd memorized that map well enough. It was time to go. He'd figure things out there, he had to believe that.

He had to leave.

Under normal circumstances, leaving Leba probably would've taken no more than fifteen minutes from the tavern. In actuality, with the immensity of the day draining on him, it took Closed Tome roughly thirty minutes to forty five, if he had to guess. And boy was he glad to be leaving.

This was the southern entrance, and it was near identical to the one he'd seen on the way in. He wasn't exactly looking for differences right now.

He was on the verge of being out of breath, but he had to keep moving.

Stone became dirt, and he welcomed the breeze of the burgeoning night. It was cool, just enough to bring his temperature down if even a little. It felt nice with the wind, which came in gusts here and there. He hadn't had to focus on each individual step to keep moving forward like this in a long time.

The forest loomed around him, its shadows thick and restless. The snap of a twig cut through the ambient rustling of leaves carried by the wind. His pulse quickened. Closed began scanning the treeline, but the tangled mass of bushes refused him any clarity that he so desperately sought.

The pony emerged from the trees with an unnerving casualness, as if out for an evening stroll. But his eyes locked onto Closed Tome like that of a predator, and every nerve in Closed Tome's body screamed at him danger. There was no aggression in any way from the stranger's posture, and yet all of his senses screamed it. There was an unshakable confidence about this earth pony, and it made the hairs on Closed neck stand on end.

Regret filled his soul, but he also couldn't help but wonder just who this pony was. Why had they followed him out here? Weren't bar fights common? He'd once heard his father say as much, who'd done some minor travelling in his life.

"You sure got my brother more sorry than the last time he tried to lay hooves on me."

Closed Tome was sweating. So that was it. But just where had he been hiding to have seen what happened? Had he been watching on the sidelines? Closed hadn't been particularly observant. It was too late now, but again Closed Tome cursed his foolishness.

"Come with me."

"I... I didn't mean to—"

"I said come with me."

From the forest came five more figures, their movements eerily synchronized. They fanned out around him, enclosing him in a tightening circle. Each step they took drove the air from his lungs, their presence was too overbearing. They all had the same look.

He was terrified.

Nodding, because speaking was not a realistic thing right now, he began to follow this self-proclaimed brother of the pony he'd had brutalized.

A terrible sense of doom overtook Closed. Surely they weren't going to kill him over that, right? Right?

It was really dark in the forest, and at some point Closed realized one of the ponies had lit a torch. They formed a tight circle around him as they escorted him. Just where were they going?

"You're probably wondering where we're taking you. It's no place special you see. What it is, however, is away from prying eyes that may find their way onto a commonly used road."

This was bad. Really Bad. His mind churned through options, but every path led to the same grim conclusion. The main problem was their proximity, and how exhausted he was. There was no getting out of this. His heart pounded at the realization.

He knew, deep down, if he was willing to risk everything there was a small chance he could get out of this situation if he played his cards right. The odds of that happening in reality were too bleak.

Eventually, they emerged into a grassy clearing. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale light washing over the scene like a shroud. All of this made Closed feel incredibly small, and he'd never felt so alone as now.

They pushed him toward the centre of the clearing, and the intensity ratcheted up. Each step driving his dread higher. Even though he was terrified of what was to come, there was a tiny part of him that just wanted this to be over with. That part was a betrayal, because being at the mercy of another could mean an end to his pathetic tale. What a pathetic life story that'd be?

He was surprised he'd even had the thought under these circumstances.

"We're going to beat you. Beat you until you understand what it means to mess with Slate and Birch. My brother will recover before you do."

There was an almost sadistic quality to how Slate, or at least who he assumed to be Slate, carried himself.

To say such a thing, and then simply watch as he shivered under the combined optical pressure of those staring him down was clearly sadistic. It had to be.

But it was under these conditions he began to scan around him. He had to gather information, he had to see if—no.

He'd hurt that pony, regardless of knowing the truth. That alone was enough for him to accept this. He would not try.

It was a massive risk, leaving his life in the hooves of another, but somehow he came to accept it.

This conclusion must've found its way onto leaving a trace on his visage, for the expression of Slate shifted to that of... was it curiosity?

"Begin."

Everypony, including Slate, began to move inwards, slowly, with all the intent and malice he'd come to expect. Closed Tome span around, nervous energy taking hold once again.

They stopped as close as possible without touching him. Slate's eyes burned directly in front of him. He could not look away. He could not breathe.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want—

When the first strike hit, it'd been faster than he was able to register. He didn't even know where it'd landed, things just moved too quickly. Then, the pain of a dozen such hits pounded into Closed Tome's brain as he was tossed around like a rag doll. It was overwhelming. Just as the agony hit a peak, something hard hit him on the head, and his consciousness quickly faded.