My Little Pony: Of Misadventures and Fantastic Machines

Chapter 4: The Journey

"To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping"- Chinese Proverb

The next morning Bear found himself taking one last look at what was once his home. A hovel just on the edge of the steamworks without running water or heat, it was a cramped little home that was quite uncomfortable but it has still been home, or at least it once was. He had a few good memories of the place but he never actually took a look around and take into account what was his homely surroundings. There was that stain on the wall that looked like Princess Celestia’s cutie mark, the crack on the floor that was in the shape of a spider web, the actual spider web that never seemed to disappear no matter how many times Bear cleaned it, and then there was the burn mark against the door that Bear was fond of, he had forgotten where exactly it came from (although he knew Arty had something to do with it) but it was sort of like his own little poster as the mark was in the shape of a smiley face. Once one got over the ugly aspects that made it unique it was an okay place to live. And now Bear was leaving it without a second thought to find a new home far away. On his back in a pair of saddlebags he carried just about everything he owned, anything he couldn’t carry was being left behind. He turned to leave and quickly shut the door, cursing the sticky lock for the last time and the terrible doorhandle that seemed to just fall off the door if one pulled it the wrong way. Bear did not need to take a second look back as he walked away, there was nothing left for him here.

The decorations for New Lunar Year still hung from the ramparts of the market and lanterns still hung by strings over walkways. Ponies though did not seem to be in the most festive of moods. The air still felt unsettled and the conversations were always about the recent events and the soon arrival of the Princesses. Bear half wished he could stay to see what the princesses thought of this terrible city but no doubt they’d be blinded by the gilded side of things and the lavishes of the upper class. A gut feeling told him things would not change and the Doge would disappear into obscurity. Even now that he thought about it Bear never even knew that pony’s real name, the moment he took the title Doge that was all he was, Bear wondered if any pony remembered the murdered Doge’s real name, not like it mattered anymore.

Taking his time in the market Bear purchased what he could with the money he still had on nonperishable foods, mostly dried out grains kept together by some unknown bland paste. It would have to do for now along with bread. A waxed cloak to keep out the rain was the last thing he bought; the money he had left would have to go to the making of his new life if they still took the same currency.

“I want to thank you again for everything you’ve done for me mister and missus Dawn.” Bear said to the teary eyed couple that had come to meet him outside their little cottage by the mill downstream. The strong pony tried his best to keep a stiff upper lip but found his voice cracked in some places from his sadness. For a long time Mr. Dawn and his wife had not just been his employer but also like his surrogate parents, for that he could never thank them enough. His strength started to fail though the moment Mrs. Dawn started crying. “Think nothing of it, lad,” Mr. Dawn said, smiling sadly, “I didn’t think we’d be saying good bye like this but I guessin’ fate’s calling you someplace else. So much for thinking I’d be passing along this old place to you, but time has a strange way of changin’ plans.”

Bear chuckled sadly, he could feel water well up in his eyes as he hugged the old pony, “you’re not making this any easier Mr. Dawn, I’m sorry I couldn’t keep up the good work for ya- I just hope you find a good pulley to  replace me. Take care of yourself, old man.” By now Mrs. Dawn had calmed down enough to look Bear in the eyes. The moment she did though she burst into tears again and quickly grabbed him in a vice grip of a hug. Bear smiled and tried his best to breathe as he was smothered against her chest and strangled by the hooves around his neck. Through tears Mrs. Dawn exclaimed, “Now… you take good care of yourself boy! Don’t make me come find ya to make sure you’ve eaten well enough. You gone stay out of trouble and find yerself a good place to live that isn’t near that horrid steamworks. Oh and keep up your health… and meet new people or a nice young mare to settle down with… or-“

“Woman, the boy’s startin’ to turn purple. Let the lad get a breath of air before you pass him out!” Mr. Dawn laughed. “What? Oh sorry about that Beary” Mrs. Dawn said as she released the gasping Bear. “That’s one heck of a way to send a fella on. Thank you too for everything Mrs. Dawn. You treated me like family all these years and helped me when times were tough. I could never repay your kindness.”

Mrs. Dawn look ready to go bursting into tears again but instead grabbed Bear again into another vice grip of a hug. This time though she let him get air before he turned purple and let him be on his way. And as Bear took the path away from the cottage Bear called out, “I’ll send you a letter when I get settled in and if you ever need me just let me know!” Mr. and Mrs. Dawn waved to him until he was finally out of sight, it was only then did Bear let himself cry over the good bye.

Leaving the forest the cobalt pony spotted someone standing at the crossroads between the Dawns’ cottage and the main path, a shorter pony with a silvery mane and silver laughing cutie mark. “Ar-Arty?” Bear exclaimed. The other pony merely grinned, “In the living flesh. Figured I’d let you have your moment with the ‘foster’ parents so-to-speak.”

Bear returned the grin and covered the last distance. Reaching his best friend the two of them reached out their hooves and tapped against each other with a resounding clop. It was then Bear noticed the bags that surrounded the pony, filled to the brim with what the pony recognized as Arty’s most prized belongings. “Arty what is this?”

“Duh, Isn’t it obvious? I didn’t follow you out here for nothing, mate. I’m headin’ out with ya, can’t trust you on your own after all.” Arty said. Grabbing his stuff he hefted it all upon his back. Bear merely frowned, “Sorry Arty but I can’t just let you leave behind your life here in Galloptry. Unlike me you actually had stuff goin’ for ya. I’m the one gettin’ banished, not you.”

Arty rolled his eyes, “oh please, what life? Being a lawyer pony was awful and material stuff just gets so very boring after a while. Naw, I was always searchin’ for a reason to leave that Celestia-forsaken city. I didn’t think it’d be because you done got yourself banished but I figure whatever works, works.”

“Mate-“

“Nnope, we’re done here. Not gonna be changin’ my mind on this. Brothers to the end and all that stuff we said in the past, now then how about we start on the road before there isn’t any more of Celestia’s day to travel by.”

Bear tried his best to be upset with his friend but in the end he couldn’t help but feel thankful he a friend such as Arty who would just pick up everything and leave the moment he needed him the most. It would be so much easier leaving with his friend at his side than it would have been by leaving on his own. “I guess I can’t change your mind then. Before we go though I just wanted to apologize for yesterday- gettin’ myself banished and all when you were trying your best to prove me innocent, it wasn’t right to take all that work you did away from ya.”

“Eh, honestly I don’t think I could of done much better than banishment and like you said either way you would have been leaving so in the end it doesn’t really matter. Past is past, the road’s the future, life is a highway blah-blah-blah-blah.”

Bear chuckled at his friend’s antics, side by side the two of them traveled down the road away from their troubled past. Behind them the bronze city gleamed in the morning light, gilded towers shined as a pair of chariots, one ebony like the night and the other white like the light, flew down into the city. The city itself almost seemed tranquil from this distance, a utopia from afar yet as they say ‘all that glitters isn’t gold’.

Arty hopped and skipped to a song that only he could hear, as he always did, as he walked alongside Bear. “So where we headed too anyway?”

Bear shrugged, “I don’t rightly know. I figured to just keep walkin’ until I felt far enough away from Bronze Galloptry. Maybe we’ll just walk all the way to Appleloosa.”

“Seriously, Appleloosa? That’s the best you can do? Well certainly far enough away but a bit too far if you ask me. How about a bit closer? I hear Canterlot is nice.”

“Bit posh for us mate, unless you want to go through the hassle of meeting the high and elite again eh?”

“Hrm, good point. Manehatten maybe, or Fillydelphia?”

“Too big, not far enough away.”

“Geez you’re just really picky aren’t you. How about you just go live in the forest somewhere? Make friends with a bunch of squirrels or-“

“Squirrels? Where?” Bear cried out in terror, shooting a glance around at the forest as if he had seen a monster.

“Calm down, calm down! Don’t get so jumpy over a bunch of rodents.”

“Never joke about those little cretins, mate, never.”

“Fine whatever. Hey don’t suppose you brought any good ole fire water now did you?”

“Course I did, mate.” Bear said. Rummaging through his bag he tossed a bottle with a bright red label to his Pegasus friend. Deftly Arty caught it and looked at the bottle, “Ah sweet merciful skies hello there me darlin’.” Bear glared at his friend, “Don’t go drinking it all now, I expect to get some too ya know and I don't need you tipsy on the road.”

“No guarantees.”

The pair walked on through the forests all that morning without stop. They walked until the forests dipped off into swamps. They kept walking until the swamps and wetlands dried up into plains of rolling grass. The sun beat down upon their backs as they made their trek to nowhere in particular, all the time they either asked each other questions such as ‘would you rather’ or ‘if you had’. Other times they just settled with tossing insults at each other, anything to pass the time of walking the dirt road in the rolling hills.

Eventually though the rolling hills leveled off into forests and a hill gave them a view of the path ahead of them. What they saw made them stop. “Hm, well then that’s a bit upsetting,” Arty said sizing up the distance that lay before them. Bear shook his head, “I honestly don’t remember this ever being here, then again I’ve never been this far out.”

Arty looked up at the tall mountain that stood before them. He nodded slowly, “oh yeah, they totally just put that in a year or two ago…. Looks like the path rounds the mountain side instead of going around the mountain itself. Least its good weather- I’d hate to cross that thing in winter.”

“Probably wouldn’t be passible in fall or winter. Well let’s get going- that mountain isn’t going to climb itself.” With that the journey began again but by the time they had reached the foot of the mountain Celestia’s sun had set and Luna’s moon had risen. It had become far too dark for them to climb. They chose to camp out in a clearing in the forest created by a pair of fallen trees. The ground was dry and grassy and the old fallen trees provided shelter even though the night sky was clear. Bear set up a small camp fire while Arty laid out their camp. For food they stomached the dried rations Bear carried with him.

That night though in the midst of falling into slumber Arty felt the strange sensation of being watched. He slowly sat up, blinking away the blur of his vision. From atop the fallen tree that he had been attempting to sleep upon he had a clear view of the forest around them as well as the clearing. The night was lit only by the stars above, but upon clearing his vision Arty found that was not the only light that looked down upon them. From the forest’s edge in the darkness he could see perhaps dots of light in the darkness. Each one was set as a pair, like two full glowing eyes watching the pair sleep. Arty couldn’t begin to count how many there were but what he could see was, was that they were surrounded on all sides by the watching eyes. The young Pegasus whipped his head around to look at the eyes watching them. He was prepared to shout a warning to the sleeping Bear down below but the moment the eyes saw that Arty was awake they blinked out of existence, back into the shadows of the forest. For a while Arty remained quiet, hoping to hear some sound to show that the eyes had actually been there but no sound except the rhythmic tune of the forest at night could be heard. Somehow in his own guard duty Arty fell back asleep upon the log. The eyes returned to their observing positions once they were sure he was back asleep.

The next morning Arty woke with a start, having no memory of ever falling asleep again after he had seen the eyes. He had to question if it had actually happened or if it was part of some dream that had been had during the night. Still though the eyes were nowhere to be seen and a quick survey showed that nothing had been taken from their bags. Satisfied for the moment Arty returned to his spot on the log, lost in his thoughts.

The thinking Pegasus did not need to wait long for Bear to wake. They ate a small breakfast and prepared to be on their way. Arty made no mention of what had happened during the night, by now he was sure it was a dream. Bear was paranoid of squirrels, he wasn’t about to follow suit by becoming paranoid of eyes in the forest. As they left the clearing though, they failed to see the crowd of eyes watching them leave. Their small colorful bodies floated silently in their air upon insect like wings as they watched the two ponies leave to ascend the mountain. The moment their hooves stepped onto the mountain path they found the going slow. The rocks, brown and jagged, hurt their hooves and the wind began to bite at them despite the good weather they had, had down in the forest.

With effort and tenacity they managed to cross the mountain but were forced to stop upon reaching the other side. A rock slide had covered the path down the mountain and from the looks of the slide there was no way around it. The two were forced to climb over the rockslide itself but it was dangerous going. The ground was soft and caved in under their weight with every step they took. Rocks tumbled down upon them in transgression for disturbing the mountain and its path. Arty’s wings and lightness made it easier for him to cross the silt but for the heavy Bear it was like walking in quick sand. With the Pegasus’  help though the pony managed to make it across without falling down the side of the mountain. The rock slide had shifted by so much the prints they had left in the rockslide had disappeared.

“Well we’re not going back this way,” Bear muttered to the mountain as both he and Arty descended the path back into the forest. “So where in Celestia’s glory are we now, Bear?” Arty asked, eying the forest all the time.

“Looks like someplace called the ‘Everfree’ Forest , though we only be on the edge of it I think. What’s with you, you’re giving the forest a dirty look there, mate.” Bear said. He gave a look at Arty but the Pegasus paid no attention to him. “Eh? Oh nothing, just being cautious is all.” The thoughts of the eyes in the forest still clung to his mind even though this might not have been the exact same forest as the one on the other side of the mountain.

“I can never seem to suss you out one way or the other sometimes Arty.” Bear said with a roll of his eyes, “Well’n we should be reaching a river soon enough. Aaaaand I don’t see a bridge. Bullocks.”

“Language Bear language. Crazy sod talkin’ like he’s some bad mouthed colt. I’m thinkin’ it’ll just be a small river or somethin’ that we could cross on our own. “

An hour passed and they had reached the river, Bear gave the first smug thought, “Well yeah that looks right calm, don’t it!” Sure enough the river was more like white rapids. Pointed, shined rocks jutted from the deep blue river that flowed at a speed that neither of the ponies had ever seen. The former city dwelling ponies only ever saw the controlled canals of the city or the sewers underneath it, here was an actual force of nature that ponies had no control over. It disturbed them, and to make matters worse they appeared to be no way of crossing the river. There looked to be a spot where an old stone bridge had been but all that remained of it was some blocks of white rock within the overgrown grass.

“Well I’m seein’ nothing for you to be some smug about. I’m not the one in a bit of a pickle here ain’t I? Note the wings, the wings!” Arty exclaimed showing off his wings. Bear responded by placing his hoof out and shoving him into the river. “Oh sod that’s cold!” the Pegasus cried out as he jumped out of the water quickly and hovered over the water. “That there was uncalled for you git.”

“Duly noted, now if you stop boastin’ so much how’n am I supposed to cross this river.” Bear said, frowning at his hovering friend. Arty placed a hoof to his chin and thought to himself. “I don’t suppose we got any rope to reach over the river now do we?” Bear checked his pack but when he found nothing shook his head, “ We got rope but nowhere near reaching over this river.”

“Hmmm,” Arty hummed to himself, he looked to the forest for inspiration. Looking at the trees he saw that most of them were small and even if Bear kicked one over it wouldn’t serve much as a bridge. He did notice though the thick vines that wrapped themselves around the tops of the trees. Flying over to them he gathered a long length of a vine from several trees and found that the vines actually were longer than they first looked, which was long to begin with. With Bear sitting on the riverside watching all of this Arty flew over the river with the vine. Tying one end to a tree he took the other side and reached it over. It barely managed to cover the length of the river but with some effort and running the vine strung he had made a line across the river. A very flimsy looking green line but a line none the less.

“Ta-da!” Arty exclaimed over the completed line. Bear though was cautious, “Uhh, I’m not sure that thing can hold my weight.”

“Hey now it’s tougher than it looks and not a tear to be found on it. It isn’t the best mode of getting over the river but it’ll work. I’ll even be there to help you cross should you run a snag or something.”

Bear couldn’t help but think back to the glider Arty had made, as well as the other ideas that Arty strangely got to work out. And then he remembered the overly numerous times his ideas did not work or backfired. Bear was a strong swimmer sure but that didn’t count for much in a fast river like this, he’d be swept away nonetheless. Glancing at the dipping sun the pony finally made his decision, “fine but I better not die from this or else I’m gonna haunt you till your grave.” Bear walked over to the line and took a good look at it, satisfied he tossed his bags to Arty who struggled to heft up the supplies but managed to barely fly. Caution to the wind he threw his legs around the line, hanging upside down. Slow at first he started to inch across until he was over the river and he had to the space to crawl. He was halfway over the river by the time he realized something was wrong. His back gently touched the river and he noticed how the line sagged badly do to his wait, the vine was giving out. “Uh oh, don’t want to rush you mate but you should rush,” Arty said as he looked at the ends of the line and then back at his friend.

“Wait what? What’s going on?” Bear said as he tried to double his efforts, but the harder he struggled the worse the line got.

“No, wait stop!” Arty suddenly called out. It was too late though, a loud snap was heard as the line snapped and plunged Bear into the middle of the cold river. Bubbles and darkness covered Bear’s line of sight but he was glad to have taken a gulp of air before crashing into the river. He hunched up, hoping to avoid hitting rocks on the river floor. He had no idea which way was up as he tumbled through the river, water filled and stung his nose. He felt his head breach the water; he tried to gasp for air but felt himself be pulled under again. Before he could be lost again to the depths of the river though he felt something tugging at his shoulders and drag him through the river. Bear tried to help but his struggling ended up causing the grip on his shoulders to slip and disappear. There was a moment of panic before the grip returned, this time on his upper right leg. It continued to drag him until Bear’s hooves touched the river bottom and he was able to walk the last of the way to shore.

Soaked, exhausted, slightly blinded, and choking on water he collapsed onto the ground. “That,” Bear sputtered out, “wasn’t one of your good ideas.” Arty laughed awkwardly, gasping for his own breathe after having to drag his larger friend out of the river. The bags lay nearby, discarded and disheveled, it seemed Arty had taken the time to roughly toss the stuff onto the beach before saving Bear. A smart move in Bear’s mind, he would have been a little angrier though if he had actually drowned but he was back on dry land at least. For a while the two just gasped for breathe, laid out upon the muddy beach. Bear looked up at Arty, and then started to laugh, he didn’t know where it came from but he laughed and laughed loudly. Arty started with a smile but the infectious joy rubbed off onto him and he too started to laugh. It got to the point their ribs hurt and they were rolling on the dirty ground laughing in the face of a watery death.

They stopped finally to breathe again. Arty was the first to notice a weird sound nearby. Glancing to his friend he tilted his head towards the sound, his ears twitching, “Say you hear that? Sounds almost like- what the! Get away from there you scrumping little pests!”  Arty screamed as he got up and rushed to the packs. Bear, confused at first followed Arty’s sight. What he saw caused him to jump up too and rush to the packs. The packs were being laid upon by a horde of strange pastel colored bugs that greedily gobbled at not the food but literally everything else that they owned. Lashing out Arty scared the horde away. The Pegasus hugged over the remaining supplies while Bear shooed the rest of the vermin away. It was only when they were gone did he see what remained. His ears went flat when he saw that most of the stuff had bite marks in it. A black pan had been spared and their canteens were safe but the rest had been eaten. A tent, blankets, a well of lantern oil, the lantern itself, and the rope had all been eaten. The bags themselves had bite marks in them but still seemed somewhat useable.

“A load of bullocks, they ate everything… except the food! I told you animals wouldn’t eat the stuff you got!” Arty said. Bear took a look as well at what they had, he sighed but smiled, “Well on the bright side we still have the necessities and Celestia be thanked the canteens are safe. I guess we’ll have to find shelter on our own but seems we won’t be seeing very much in the night.”

“These next few days are going to suck.” Arty said with a sigh.

It had been five days since they left Bronze Galloptry, two days walking across the plains, a day to cross the mountain and the river, and two days following the path through the Everfree forest. In those last two days though it had been more miserable then the other three combined. Food remained steady and their water supply was good but everything else was a misery. Little shelter left their nights disturbed and contained little rest, especially for Arty who remained vigilant for the Technicolor vermin that had eaten their stuff. The forest was confusing and dense, the path rugged and nearly disappearing in some places. By now the once pristine coats of the ponies were dull and muddied. Their manes were disheveled and part of Bear’s head was singed from sleeping far too close to their makeshift campfire one time. Their morale was low, no more talk or laughter was had except when discussing where to go or what direction was north.

On the second day their venture took a strange and somewhat dark turn in the forest. They had lost the path some hours ago when they had followed what looked to be the remains of a brick and black iron fence. Their presumption was right but at the cost of the path. Now though they stood before something that confused and terrified them. It was a mansion of some kind. It looked old and the wood had been rotted through in places. The windows were gone and the forest had long since tried to reclaim the property. Vines wrapped against the walls and into the house itself. It looked to have been deserted for many years, perhaps even decades. The architecture itself was gothic, a style that hadn’t been seen in most of Equestria for at least a century. It disturbed them both to find a clear sign of civilization in the middle of the dense and dangerous forest.

“Alright,” Bear said looking up at the mansion with Arty, “common sense says to slowly walk away from the spooky looking mansion and never speak of this again. Still, it is shelter and we haven’t found any in since entering the forest.”

“To make matters worse the day’s about over, Luna’s night will be up soon. Won’t have time to go searching for another place for shelter, unless of course we want to be stumbling about in the dark of the forest yet again, as much as I hate to say it I select spending the night in the very spooky and foreboding mansion in the middle of the forest. On the condition that we search the place out first,” Arty said.

“Well, who goes in first?”

The pair looked at each other.

“Nose goes!” Arty shouted as he put a hoof to his nose.

“Nose- ah dang it!” Bear said, a second too late on the draw. “Ah well, here goes nothin’ I guess.” Bear walked up into the overgrown courtyard of the mansion. Slowly he stepped up the moss covered cobblestone steps to the large wooden door. Trying the doorknob he found it rusted to the point it no longer turned. The door refused to give way until finally Bear turned around and gave the door a solid kick. The doorknob shattered into rusty pieces and the door seemed to barely hold on its hinges now but at least it was open. Bear took a cautious look inside. It appeared to be a parlor with an old fireplace, a moth eaten rug, and some old tarp covered furniture. A set of stairs on the right wall ascended into the dark second story. Two doorways led out to the rest of the mansion but Bear didn’t care to check just yet.

Turning around he signaled for Arty. The two slowly stepped into the parlor to look around the place. Arty elected to check the upstairs while Bear checked the downstairs. Upstairs were several dusty and debris covered rooms. Most were empty except for one filled with plant life thanks to the missing ceiling. Downstairs was a very similar seen. Most of the rooms and kitchen had succumbed to the forest let in by the missing windows. One door though, which Bear assumed it to be the basement, refused to budge and even managed to withstand a kick from him. The Earth pony figured though that there was little importance to get the basement door open so left the door be. Meeting back up with one another the two decided the parlor was the only place to be stayed for the night.

“So I’ve been thinkin” Arty said after the pair had finally settled in and got a fire going in the old fireplace. They had taken the tarps off the mostly intact furniture and moved them in front of the fireplace in a semicircle. Arty had taken control of an old armchair and had been making himself comfortable as Bear fought with a spring that stuck out of the old sofa he elected to be on.

“Again?” Bear said while trying to stick the annoying spring back into the cushion.

“Well this is like the start of some scary story, you know the kind we told as little colts. You know, the two mates or group of ponies get lost or stuck inside an old spooky house that turns out to be haunted, then they have to try and escape while at the same time retaining their sanity from the psychological trauma of the whole spectral terror that stalks them. You know, that sort of cruddy story.”

“Uh… I guess you’re right. So…. You think this place is haunted?” Bear asked nervously.

Arty nodded vigorously, “oh no doubt. Old places like this have loads of history in them and all those events that happen in the house build up until they start taking a life of their own and terrorize ponies with visions from the past and demons that have slipped through the veil of time and matter.”

“Okay now you’re making fun of me.”

“Of course I’m not, I’m being serious. Or should I say…. Dead…. Serious.”  Arty proceeded to make ghostly moans that echoed off the parlor walls. Bear laughed nervously, “Okay I get your point, you can stop now.”

“Oh don’t tell me you still get scared of those stories. I still remember that one time during the summer when you hid underneath the bed for an entire night after that ‘headless’ pony story.”

“I was a little colt okay! And it was a scary story.”

“Or what about a month ago when I told you there was a rabid squirrel monster loose near the lumber mill so you went to work each day with a Billy club?”

“That wasn’t fear! That was called being prepared.”

“Oh of course, that’s entirely different” Arty said sarcastically.

“You know what I’m done talking to you, I’m going to sleep.” Bear said. To make sure the point went across that he was done talking he turned his back to Arty and tried to get comfortable on the sofa while still avoiding the spring that stuck out awkwardly from the cushion. The Pegasus pony smirked and laid back in his armchair, staring into the fire.

“resi….”

Arty glanced up at the sound of a masculine voice. “Huh? You say something Bear?” he asked.

“Put a sock in it Arty, I’m not talking to you, I’m done with your bloody ghost stories for one night.” Bear said with a wave of a leg.

“I’m not telling ghost stories, just never mind, forget about it.” Arty snorted in irritation and laid his head back against the armchair. For a while there was only the sound of the crackling fire, it was tranquil but sleep alluded Arty.

“Reside…”

He looked up again, this time it had sounded like it had come from the kitchen, not in the parlor. It was distant, masculine and despite what common sense said it was definitely a voice. “Bear?” Arty whispered to his friend but he did not stir, “Bear you awake?”

Nothing. Standing up from the armchair Arty took a look around the parlor. The voice was silent now, only the sound of the fire and the wind could be heard. Perhaps it was all just the wind? Still better safe than sorry. Walking around, his hooves caused the floorboards creak with each step, he checked the dark recesses of the parlor before going to the door that led to the kitchen. He placed an ear to the kitchen door but heard nothing on the other side.

“Here.”

Arty jumped, the voice had come from behind him. He whirled around but found nothing except the stair staring back at him. The dark abyss that was the second floor seemed to be darker now, like a thick miasma had come and covered the front of the stairs. Arty’s heart felt like it had exploded at the shock and still it beat rapidly. All he could hear now was his own breathing.

It was just the wind, or my imagination he thought, don’t be such a Bear and go check it out. With a burst of confidence he stepped up the stairs. He reached the top and heard the wind howl louder for a moment.

“I.”

The sound of the voice sent a cold shiver down Arty’s spine and he could swear that he could see his own breathe. It suddenly and noticeable get colder, but then again the second floor was mostly open to the rest of the forest. “Just the wind, just the wind, just the wind,” Arty kept telling himself. He was shaking now but kept walking forward. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.

“Reside.”

Arty stopped, the voice had come from the room next to him, one of the empty stuffy rooms. Now though in the thin amount of light the moon and stars gave he could see something was indeed inside the room. A rocking chair, a chair that Arty knew had not been there before. He stepped into the room and his shadow covered the rocking chair. He entered the room and stepped to the side to let the light in again but found that the chair had disappeared. A shiver went down Arty’s spine; he was running out of explanations. Whispers came from the darkness, unintelligible words that seemed malicious in what they said. Arty slowly backed out of the room, the whispers ceased and his heart thumped faster in his chest. He breathed heavy and he was sure now he was seeing his own breathing in clouds of white vapor.

He turned suddenly, something had scurried into one of the rooms. He breathed an apprehensive sigh, it was probably just an animal- nothing else. Well whatever it was it could do its own thing for all Arty cared for. He quickly descended the stairs again back to the fire. Bear was asleep by now on the sofa, unmoved and the fire was beginning to die down into hot embers. Arty lay back into his armchair, feeling calmer now that he had found his fears unfounded. If that animal was still there in the morning Arty would be sure to give it a kick.

He awoke with a start in the middle of the night, after the fire had stopped burning and the room had turned dark. He looked around in hopes of finding what had woken him but instead he found nothing but the old parlor. Something about all of this seemed wrong to Arty but he couldn’t figure it out. He turned to the sofa to see if Bear slumbered still, his heart sank suddenly.

The sofa was empty, Bear was gone.

The Pegasus jumped out of the chair but slipped in something slippery. He clamored to the floor in a heap of pain. He looked down at what he had fallen in. He stifled a terrified shout and looked down at himself. He was covered in blood, deep red blood. He shoved himself out of the puddle and struggled out of the blood. He looked down at himself, his hooves were covered in the stuff and he felt stickiness on his face where he had laid his head on the floor. His heart beat with ferociously in his chest that it hurt. Through panicked breathes of air he stared at the puddle. The puddle was thick and a trail of the terrifying liquid ran around the armchair and towards the kitchen door. It almost looked like whatever, or whoever, had been bleeding had been dragged away. The terrifying thought occurred to him that it might have been Bear. Shakily he stood up and followed the blood trail from the armchair to the door.

The whispering began again from the darkness, sometimes it sounded like obscure calling but other times he could hear his own voice speaking even though he did not say a word. Arty reached the kitchen door and found it slightly ajar, the door’s handle covered in prints of blood. Carefully he pushed open the door. The vegetation was gone from the kitchen, no light shined from outside and low bass hum filled the room. It tugged and hurt his head to hear the sound and quickened his heart. Every fiber of his being told him something was wrong and not to enter the kitchen. He did so anyway, his friend might be hurt.

His ragged breathing filled the kitchen as he entered. He jumped when a rusty pan fell from the kitchen’s counter and clattered to the floor. He turned to run back into the parlor but ran instead in a wall. He stepped back in confusion and terror. The door to the parlor was gone. There was just a wall with crusted rust, or was it blood?

He turned back around to see the rusted old kitchen. He spotted on the floor the trail of blood lead to another door across the kitchen. The door creaked open on its own when the pony took a single step forward to it. Inside were stairs that led into a thick darkness, a basement.

A moan from the basement spurred him in the gut. It sounded like Bear. Momentarily forgetting his terror he ran across the kitchen and stopped right before the stairs. Mustering his last remains of courage he entered the basement.

It was a suffocating darkness. “B-bear?” He called out. Not even an echo returned to him in the thick silence. The ground felt sleek but he refused to wonder what it was that made it so. Something stirred in the darkness, moving papers and bottles. “Bear?” He called out again.

“Behind you.”

The voice from before whispered into his ear, his heart beat impossibly fast; his breathing became ragged and strained. He shook badly as he turned around. He saw only darkness as something grabbed him.

Arty woke up screaming.

Bear jumped from his sleep and fell off the sofa. He quickly got up and looked around but saw that it was Arty screaming from where he had been sleeping in his armchair.

“Arty! Arty calmed down!” Bear shouted and shook his screaming friend. Arty though kept screaming until finally his voice gave out and he was out of breath. Even then he let himself breathe more before continuing to scream in short burst.

Slowly he calmed down and his heart slowed down once he saw that sunlight flooded the room and it was Bear who had been shaking him. “Are. You. Calm. Now?” Bear said to his hysterical friend.

Arty took a few breathes, calming down finally he said hoarsely, “Yeah…I’m… I’m fine now.”

“Now, calmly, I can’t stress the word calmly enough, tell me why you were screaming.”

Arty spoke quickly, frantically, and related the story of his dream to his friend, including the part of going upstairs. Bear looked bemused despite the grimness of it all, “So what? You scared yourself from your own little story?”

“It wasn’t me, it was bloody well real you git! I mean it was a dream… I think but it looked so real. And I know I wasn’t asleep when I went upstairs! Besides what about you, you must have experienced the same stuff!”

Bear shook his head, “just the usual weird dreams. Something about feeding apples to fish, or I was the fish I’m not sure.”

Arty still shook badly but seemed calmer now, “then… I guess it was just a nightmare.”

Bear shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell ya mate, but its morning now so how about we put this place behind us right quick?”

Arty nodded, “Nothing would sound better.”

Bear gathered their things since Arty couldn’t stop shaking. Just to be sure as well Bear checked the upstairs for the animal Arty said he saw though found nothing, he guessed it must have left during the night. Descending the stairs though the Cobalt pony noticed something strange.

The Kitchen door was slightly open. Pushing the door opened he entered the kitchen. “Hey Arty? Come over here.” There was a slow shuffling as Arty hesitantly stood next to Bear. The poor Pegasus’ heart jumped into his throat when he saw what Bear was looking up. Bear looked to his friend and asked, “Did you manage to get the basement door open?”

Arty responded by sputtering incoherently. Bear rolled his eyes, “Oh not that again, calm down. I’m putting your fears down once and for all. Let’s go into the basement and I’ll show you nothing’s down there. Bear walked into the kitchen. “Wait! Are you insane?!” Arty shouted. He hesitated but slowly followed behind his friend to the basement door. It was just like he remembered it, a pitch blackness with no light managing to enter the stairway.

The two looked at each other and descended the stairs together.

“Well I can’t see much.” Bear said.

“I really hate basements now.” Arty responded.

“Hold on my hoof stepped over something.”

“Please don’t let it be a body…”

“No, no. It’s not a body. Its… it’s a…”

Bear never finished his sentence. Instead the pair turned to screaming. They both clamored out of the basement. They pushed and shoved each other to be the first out of the mansion’s door and back into the forest to escape the horror they had seen in the mansion’s basement. The pair was still screaming even when they were fully out of sight.

Back in the mansion some unseen voice laughed softly, his voice carried by the wind. Slowly but steadily the mansion door closed by itself, the broken lock locked the door shut.

It was a long time before the pair was forced to stop running from their terror. Exhausted, bruised, cut up by briar, and covered in mud they lay on the rediscovered path. It wasn’t the same path that they had been taking before but it was a path.

“We…. Never… speak… of that… again” Bear breathed.

“Agreed. Never again!” Arty responded.

For a while the two laid there, panicked but unable to keep going. Finally they managed to at least stand up. They ate what little food they had left right there on the path and finished what was left of their water. They continued to sit there then, not sure which direction to go and in too much aching pain to move. Not much was spoken between them, neither knew the direction to go and they still were not sure what to say. Someone else though spoke for them.

“Well now, what have we here? Two tired colts rest on the path to my hut? I wonder what brought them this far into this treacherous forest.”

The pair turned around toward the voice to see a strange pony. Rather it wasn’t a pony but a Zebra if their time in school had taught them anything about types of horses and ponies. The black and white stripes gave her away.

Arty spoke first, “It’s a bit of a longish story, miss…”

“Ah yes, I am Zecora, I live in this forest. You two might be?”

“I’m Bear and that’s Arty. We’re sort of travelers.”

“Sort of, you say, Little Bear?”

“Little?”

“Well it’s more like lost,” Arty said, “Don’t suppose you know the way out of this home of yours eh?”

“Well of course I do, Pegasus, you could of just flown up to see for yourself, you are on the parapets of this forest.”

“Easier said than done, miss,” Arty said as he stretched his tired wings.

“Oh thank Celestia we’re almost out of this forest. Would you trouble us some more Zecora to point us the way.” Bear asked.

“Follow the path I have just come. You will find your way from there weary travelers. I think perhaps your journey in this forest is at an end.”

“Hopefully for good too,” Arty said.

The pair gave their undying thanks to Zecora, who seem calmly flattered over the whole affair. They slowly walked the way pointed to them. The Zebra had told them that a town lay on the edge of the forest, a place of peace and friendship that sounded so foreign to them. She called it Ponyville but perhaps to Bear and Arty it could be a new home for them.