A Preview of What is to Come · 6:26am Dec 12th, 2014

December 30, 99AB
Rain beat heavily on the window panes of a rustic, weathered tavern near the edge of Ponyville. Thunder rolled overhead and lightning lit the muddy street in front of the building where a single pony in a battered raincoat stood. He peered upwards at the sign that swung wildly in the wind: Pony Joe & Sons. According to a second sign below it, the place was run by, specifically, Pony Joe IV.
The cloaked pony splashed through the puddles in front of the establishment to knock on the heavy door. No lights were on inside, but the stallion persisted until he heard the sound of latches being open from the other side. He waited patiently until the door swung open and a pale yellow face with a rust-colored mane stuck out.
“What do you want?” the pony, presumably Pony Joe IV, hissed. “It’s past curfew; nopony’s supposed to be out on the streets! If I even get caught talking to you the sheriff will take me in for sure.”
“I won’t stay long,” the cloaked stallion said. “I only wish to find refuge from the rain and a drink while I wait.” Without waiting for a reply, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a leather bag between his teeth.
He tossed it into the doorway behind Pony Joe IV. Golden coins spilled out and rolled in all directions on the wooden floor while Pony Joe could only watch with widening eyes. Wordlessly, he let the door open wide enough for the cloaked stallion to come in, then shut it behind him.
The inside of the tavern was lit by candles burning low in their sconces along the wooden walls. The air smelled thickly of liquor and greasy food. Pony Joe IV made no effort to hide them, and instead walked carefully behind a long, sturdy bar at the far end of the room. He had already cleaned the bar top, it looked like, so the pony in the cloak sat at a small table near the middle of the room, far away from the windows.
“What can I get you?” Pony Joe asked nervously, glancing toward the bag of bits still spilled on the floor. “I’m afraid I already cleaned out the oven, so there isn’t much in the way of food I can offer you.”
Lightning flashed outside, loud enough to make Pony Joe jump. The other stallion simply watched him, bemused. “Bring me a glass of hard cider in your finest glass. You can take the payment out of the bits I’ve already given you; they should be more than enough for both the stay and the drink.”
Pony Joe IV scurried off to get what was requested, while the pony in the cloak stared out the darkened windows. Outside, the streets were empty and the clustered houses of Ponyville were dark, but he still watched them, to see if the shadows moved. Lately, they had seemed to almost follow him wherever he went, but outside they all stayed put.
Shortly, Pony Joe returned with his drink in a vermilion glass. The stallion grinned at it, then pulled the hood of his cloak down to reveal a horn, which lifted the cup to his mouth. After taking a swig, he placed it down and looked at Pony Joe, who had been watching him.
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
Pony Joe hesitated, then simply asked, “What are you doing here, anyway?” He seemed to realize his rudeness, and added, “I mean, nopony really comes around here since Princess Morning Star began travel restrictions and stricter curfews. I haven’t seen drifters or vagabonds for years.”
He tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed as they traced across the shape of the cloaked pony’s face. “Though, come to think of it, something about you seems awfully familiar... you’re not from around here, are you?”
The cloaked pony didn’t respond, but under the table, out of Pony Joe’s view, a knife slowly slid out from under his cloak. Before he could act, however, Pony Joe only laughed and shook his head.
“Sorry, it was a silly question. I suspect I would have recognized you by now if that were true.” He patted a hoof on the table and shook his head. “Though, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing around here, especially so close to the new year? Is there someone you’re expecting to find around here?”
“In a manner of speaking.” The cloaked pony drained the rest of his drink, then looked thoughtfully out the window and up toward the rain clouds, to where the moon lay behind them. He then stood, and floated the vermilion cup into a bag beneath his cloak, tossing a few more coins toward Pony Joe.
“I’ve waited years to meet somepony here,” the cloaked pony said quietly, moving toward the door. “Now, only one more remains, one year until the day of reckoning, when they will return here at last.”
Pony Joe looked at him worriedly. “And who would that be, mister?”
“My mother.” The cloaked pony pulled the door open and began to walk out. “Most ponies know her by a different name: Twilight Sparkle.”
Before Pony Joe could say another word, the door was shut and the cloaked pony gone. Even after he ran to the windows, the shadows had swallowed up the mysterious pony, and only the empty rain-soaked streets of Ponyville could be seen outside. And, in the distance, the ruined castle in the center of town that had once belonged to the now-banished princess, Twilight Sparkle.