Golden Writ sniffed at the empty troughs.
Nearly two hundred ponies milled about in the darkness, waiting in confusion and gnawing anxiety. Some ponies even whispered amongst themselves. Writ picked out Crimson Canary’s voice, dimly remembering the songs she once sang.
More than just food was missing, Writ noted.
The torches were all unlit or absent.
The heavy footfalls of taskmasters were missing
The morning bells had never chimed.
The fetters and doors were also gone, however, so the magical bells were unneeded.
Drawing on the confidence of a half-remembered past life, Writ spoke with authority, “Everypony, listen up!”