Death To The Country

by JQ

Chapters

• Prologue: Quarter Past Four
• Chapter 1: The First Morning
• Chapter 2: The Beast

Prologue: Quarter Past Four

The moon seemed unnaturally bright this time of night.

At least it did here, in this kind of country. The thought was strange, even as he was seeing it with his own eyes. A quick glance at the sky, ever so brief, showed a carpet of stars for as far as the night sky could travel. They looked like diamonds. Not the pretty kind, that most ponies can imagine, but more like flakes of glimmering specks in a dark stone wall.

Just now rising up to almost accommodate the stars was a smiling moon, shaped like a grin made out of the whitest teeth a pony could have. It made him think of it as a second sun, taking over the night shift for when the big man got tired and went home for the night (the guy that nobody really liked, just because.)

So bright was this second sun, that it cast a shadow on just about everything in sight. The treetops swayed gently in the wind, and the little white spots that floated in the black puddles of shadow on the ground danced back and forth, seemingly disappearing and then reappearing in a particular rhythm. Shaded leaves and small twigs danced about as well, several times looking like a snake or some other critter was moving around in the night.

His mind always went to the worst places when he thought there was something hiding in the brush. The size didn't matter, if the things were too small to see at first. It was the poison and the teeth that mattered, along with the unpleasant and unfamiliar feeling of nakedness that came with traveling in the woods at night.

Miles away from any kind of populated area, far out of reach of immediate medical care. Nopony to call out to for help in case something went wrong. Food and water that were only available to the more skilled survivalist of the herd.

That, and the fact that whatever creature an unfortunate pony may stumble upon out here may not feel content with just ripping the life out of him violently and efficiently with their teeth and claws and talons, but also feel the need to fulfill the ancient ritual of the hunt. Then the poor bastard would never be seen again, except for what the birds decided to leave behind.

...Which was not very much at all.

He knew, because he'd seen it happen.

He had even stuck around to find out what became of the guts and the hooves and the eyes when it was all said and done.

His track of thought did not help put his feelings of unease to rest. If anything, he was inching closer towards the edge than instead of stepping away from it. But it was indeed a long trip to the deepest parts of the woods, and all of the weight on his back was making it harder to concentrate on keeping an empty head.

It wasn't that being here in the woods was frightening- no, there would be none of that- but there were reasons to keep on guard. It was the kind of place that made you want to watch your back more than to keep your eyes on the path ahead.

Shadows would move his peripherals, and disappear as soon as he tried to pass a glance.

Hidden things would start chiming or whistling strange songs far in the distance, then go quiet just his ears perked up trying to listen.

There was even a moment when he saw what looked like a faint blue light faintly shining through a long thicket of wild thorned bushes.

There were plenty of rumors to be spread and stories to be told about this place. The locals back in town had referred to it several times by its name; Everfree Forest.

It was a very unfitting name. As was almost every name given to a place that promised something like a pleasant experience to anypony looking for one in all the wrong places.

All at once, his back was engulfed in aches and pains, and he had to stop. It had been creeping up through his legs over the last few hours, and it was easy enough to ignore until now. The straps from the wagon were beginning to chafe his hide, causing even more discomfort. More than he was used to.

Turning his head, he bit down on the excess strap and pulled until the pin of the buckle came loose, and he felt the pressure of the harness let go all at once. Then he took a few steps forward while shaking himself and the whole thing fell to the ground with a light clatter.

An exhale of relief escaped him as he reached behind his head and scratched his mane, rubbing into the muscle trying to ease the constant ache. A massage wouldn't be too much trouble, but that would come later. There was work to be done.

And time was of the essence.

Reminded of the limited time he had, he quit his back rubbing and examined the watch on his hoof. The hands were always pointing to unwanted numbers, the kind that always came up like a bad bit.

Almost half past four.

Which only left a few hours until the sun rose over the hills. Those same hills he had watched rise and fall through the train window. Flush with green grass that never seemed to grow too tall and wildflowers that came in all colors. Several dozen acres filled with nothing but tall, healthy apple trees. He remembered thinking that it must be the local orchid, and whoever owned the place was running a lucrative business. Harvest time would be soon.

He was still tired, trying to catch his second wind. His back legs bent and he sat himself square in the dirt. Eyes ahead, the road looked as though it would be getting more and more treacherous. Back a ways towards town one of the wheels had gotten stuck in a hole that had worn into the road.

He had spent twenty minutes trying to pry the thing out of the ground, during which he had noticed that there was a sort of house not too far away. It was built into a tree, it seemed, and lights were shining through some of the windows, and a brightly colored smoke billowed out of the others. With a sweat he had hurried the job along before the owner of the home noticed him, and then he was gone.

Now, he saw the dirt path ahead begin to wind and turn. Small trees were growing in the road, soil was giving way to grass. He could only sigh at the prospect of having to pull harder and watch his every step.

He decided then and there that when dawn cracked, he would stop and do the deed. After he dumped the wagon, he would at least have enough time to hike it back to town and get some rest before the big meeting. Savory was a pony rumored to be a man that didn't like late appointments. Why he had been named Savory Summers by whoever birthed him was anyone's guess.

He was done resting for now, having a schedule to keep. Looking down at his watch again, he counted ten minutes he had spent sitting there. That was good enough, and he got back onto his hooves and shook off the dirt.

He turned around to face the wagon, the fragile piece of shit that it was. It was amazing that it was still holding its shape after so many bumps and holes during the trip. Walking around to the back he could surely see that the thing was beginning to fall apart. A few of the boards that made up the side were cracking, while others had already split in half revealing rotted black insides of splinters. Even in the dark it was plain to see that the paint was barely clinging onto it anymore and flaking off in thick chips.

The hitched gate on the back was always falling out- the hinges were so loose they gave the pin just enough space to rattle open- and even now he saw it hanging open limply. This time the pin was missing altogether, so there would be no more closing it, as he had done several times during the trip.

He would need to close it, though, somehow. He couldn't let the cargo fall out of the back. Not yet, anyway. He looked off the path into the thicket, and it didn't take long for him to see a tree limb that was just about the right size to fit into the hitch. He picked it up in his teeth and turned back to the wagon, and stopped in his tracks to see something dangling from the bed.

"Shit," he said, letting the twig fall from his mouth as he rushed over to the wagon.

A single hoof was protruding from beneath a bulging cloth tarp. Shoeless. Dirty and matted fur- highly untrimmed -growing over it. A patch of dried blood stained the fur, while a pool of it dripped over the side and formed a puddle the size of a platter.

He went to put his nose under the hoof and nudge it back under the tarp, but then he remembered the blood. It would be all over his snout, might get into his eyes. Hard to get out of the fur, even with all the water and soap in all the country.

Look before you leap he thought to himself, and stood up on his hind legs against the edge of the wagon. After pushing the cargo back in its place, he reached a little further under the tarp and shoveled a bit of straw over the spot where the hoof had been sitting. It stuck to the blood and effectively covered it from view.

After pulling the tarp over everything once again, he let himself back down on all fours. Looking down, he saw that there was indeed a bit of red on his hoof. Kneeling down a bit, he rubbed it in the dust and got what he could off. Now it just looked dirty.

The risky business taken care of, he found the tree limb once again and worked it into the latch. It was just the right fit, tight enough to keep the flap from rattling for the rest of the way.

Everything seemed secure, so he took his place once more in the front, backing into the harness and fastening it tightly- not too tightly, thank you -with his teeth.

As he took his next steps he felt a considerable difference in the way that the wagon was hitched. Between here and the final destination would be less of a strain on his body. It would be bad for business to show up to the meeting with a limp or a leaning neck, or with blisters underneath his hooves.

He had to guess how much time it took to fix the wagon and the cargo, without a chance to look at his watch again. There would be no stops now, no more time for resting. Every minute was a minute wasted, and in the next two hours he would make the same trip back, at a much more brisk pace.

Ahead, something made a noise, a high-pitched whistling. Too long and much louder than a bird call. It was too far away to really tell, but it was only for a moment. Warbling, a cry in the dark.

Then the silence of the night returned, except for the hums and chirps of crickets. He noticed that there was less song from them the deeper he traveled into Everfree. It was only natural that they would make their homes near town, where the flora was more lively and tame. He took it as a sign that his job was almost done.

Only the morning sun would tell. And then back to town to begin the real work.

The wagon shook and rattled on the harsh road as he traveled deeper into the forest, the moon disappearing behind the tops of the trees.

Chapter 1: The First Morning

It was still dark when the alarm clock started its obnoxious song and dance around the top of the nightstand. Applejack stirred in her sleep for the first minute or so, until her eyes finally opened and she stretched herself underneath her blanket.

Letting out a yawn she propped herself up and brought her hoof down on the clock. It gave a final echoing ring, then slept again.

"Shoot," she said, kicking the covers off and rolled off the bed onto the floor. Still yawning she stepped over to the window and was greeted by the morning sky, a dull pink. She was rubbing her eyes when she heard the first rooster crowing. If she could only keep them in the house, then she would be rid of the contraption that made her ears ring every morning.

Problem was, she didn't have very good luck with chickens. That was Fluttershy's area of expertise. In fact, she thought she could hear a cacophony of roosters from the direction of her her home across the road and towards the woods. The animal-loving mare rejoiced in the sound, she thought. One of her quirks.

"Cockle-doodle-doo, chickees. Wake everypony up fer me, will ya?"

A quick trip to the bathroom was her next routine before the day started. A morning piddle came short and relieving, and then to the mirror. Her mane was messy, like it was every morning. Taking a brush in her teeth fixed the problem while she watched herself in the mirror.

She wasn't the type to wear any kind of makeup, obviously, or to fix herself up to look nice. She preferred to be dirty, sometimes. One advantage was that after she worked up enough of a sweat, she wouldn't have to worry about wasting all the hard work in the mornings, just to have it ruined by mid-afternoon.

After her mane was nice and course, and that was including her tail, she carefully tied them both into the buns that she favored so often. A quick look at her teeth showed the pearly whiteness in her smile. Well, not exactly pearly. Nopony could keep teeth at a perfect white all the time, unless their trips to the dentist were long and often. That, and how expensive it would be to keep up the habit.

With that, she was satisfied, and stepped out her door and into the dining area of the Sweet Acres household.

The house was quiet this morning. Quiet and dark. Granny Smith was probably still asleep upstairs. It usually wasn't until after breakfast that she was up and about, her day mostly made up of performing a few chores around the house and spending her time in her favorite chair. Getting along in the years, she wasn't much help with the apple-bucking anymore, her brittle frame barely lifting her out of bed sometimes.

But nopony could blame her. Spending her entire life on this farm had its rewards, and one of them was the rest and relaxation. Her old bones needed every minute.

Applejack almost called out for her little sister, but stopped herself when she remembered that the filly wasn't even there. Yesterday Apple Bloom had come to Granny and asked to spend the night over at her friend's, and she agreed almost immediately. At least, that was what Applejack had been told. The filly hadn't even bothered to ask her older sister about the whole business, but approval from her granny was enough for her to run off.

Of course, Applejack knew where her sister had really run off to. It did not take a genius to figure out that Apple Bloom was with the other Cutie Mark Crusaders, probably still asleep in that tree house of theirs instead, and not with Rarity and Sweetiebelle, as she had led Granny to believe.

The whole matter didn't bother her too much. The trio didn't get up to much these days, except for the usual antics of trying to find their special talents. Same old, same old. But it had been a long time since they had caused any kind of real damage to anything. All three of them were so accident prone that sometimes it was funny.

Funny until she was the one paying for it.

There would be time for scolding the filly later on in the day, but for now there was work to be done. She hadn't even left the house yet, and in her book that was falling behind.

Applejack headed for the front door and reached up for her hat from the shelf of knick-knacks on the wall. Fitting it snugly on her head she stepped out into the morning.

         Breakfast would be a little while longer. Setting her alarm clock a little earlier than everypony else, she felt content with being the earliest of the birds. One benefit was being greeted by a pretty morning sunrise. The sky was burning and melting into more vibrant colors, while a few pink clouds were scattered here and there. The air smelled like dew, apples, a faint scent of manure.

It felt good to be alive on mornings like this, and it felt even better to put in a hard day's work on the farm. The schedule for the next bucking was sometime next week, and she was prepared to keep the trees in shape until then. On the long list of things to do today, a good number of trees in the orchids needed some pruning, and her and her brother were slated for the job. It might just be the kind of job that lasts all day, but that was just fine.

The temperature still felt nice, and that always made the mornings the perfect time to work.

She trotted her way towards the barn when she heard a sound, coming from the inside. The doors were cracked open slightly. Unusual, since they were closed every night while her brother slept inside. She hesitated for a moment, when she heard another bang. A tool falling to the floor, maybe.

"Big Macintosh?" Standing there in the dirt she got no answer back.

"Big Brother? You in there?"

A moment of silence passed once more and she tried to call out again.

"I'm in here, Sis," the stallion's voice finally replied.

She was satisfied enough with that answer, when she stuck her head in the door. The inside of the barn was dark, the light from the window shining through and illuminating a section of barrels over in the corner. Big Macintosh was busy picking up a hammer off of the floor that had fallen from the tool rack and bounced off the workbench.

"Bein' a bit clumsy this mornin', huh?"

Mac didn't answer this time, as he gripped the hammer carefully in his teeth and put it back in its place on the rack.

Applejack didn't think too much of it, and approached the tools herself and precisely plucked the pruning trimmers from the wall. Still, her brother didn't say a word. Instead, he walked toward the barn window that looked out at the orchid. She noticed his expression almost immediately. He looked distant, almost.

One distinguishing feature of Big Macintosh was that he always looked as though he was in deep thought. That was one reason that everypony took a liking to him. This morning, though, something seemed ...different. Off. There was a word for it, but Applejack couldn't quite put her hoof on it.

She set the tool down, and when she looked to her brother her expression had changed to one of concern.

"Somethin' a matter?" she finally said.

Again, he gave her no answer, but this time she didn't press him, not wanting to seem like she was prying.

Mac sighed when he finally decided to speak. "Not rightly sure."

Applejack tilted her head and raised a brow. "Now that don't make much sense, Brother."

"Yep, I know," Mac said apologetically.

Applejack came closer and took a spot beside her brother, at least trying to see what he was looking at. There was nothing out in the orchids except for apple trees, and more apple trees.

"Really? Then what's got you lookin' so..."

A pause. "Distracted?"

Big Macintosh shrugged his shoulders wordlessly. Chewing on his piece of wheat like always, and even this was slow and deliberate.

She looked at him now, not getting a look back. "I haven't seen you like this since the orchids flooded that one time." A smile grew on her face, and she found herself almost wanting to laugh.

"I remember the look on yer face, like you were sad an' all, but you looked like you were gunna say 'I ain't gonna be the one that cleans this mess up.'"

She was surprised when Big Macintosh chuckled slightly, and that caused her to give a short giggle.

"Eyup," he said. "I remember. Lost a lot of trees that year."

Applejack nodded. "Mh-hm, and it was awful nice of some of them ponies from town ta volunteer and help plant new ones ta replace our losses. I remember how much you wanted to help. Someponies would start getting tired, and you would take over for 'bout three er four of 'em at once, draggin' a tree by yerself."

That got both of them laughing this time. She always liked to make her brother laugh, especially when he seemed to be in bad spirits.

"We got back more than half of what we lost," Big Macintosh said. "In fact, I remember those particular trees givin' off bigger apples than most."

"That's right, an' we've called 'em the 'lucky bunch' ever since," said Applejack.

Mac nodded in agreement. "Eyup," he said, flicking the wheat around with his lips, then went back to chewing it.

Applejack smiled again. "Now can you tell me what on yer mind?"

Big Macintosh turned to look at her sister, and his eyes met hers. Frustration there, plain as day. It made Applejack frown and look away.

"I mean, I don't like ta pry, but... you are my brother, and I can always tell when somethin's-"

"It's awright," he interrupted. "I know yer just lookin' out fer me." Then his attention went back to the window. The sky was growing brighter still. Birdsong floated in the air.

Applejack's frown faded, and she thought of what to say next, and she found the words on the tip of her tongue.

"Still ...it wadn't right fer me ta ask again. Y'all don't have ta tell me if'n you don't want to."

Big Macintosh sighed again, then turned away from the window. Back to the barn interior. Whatever he had been pondering on was over and done with, as he passed his sister and headed for the doors. He pushed one of them open with his nose, letting sunlight and fresh air into the barn.

Ponyville was already beginning to stir from its sleep. The main road was plain to see, beyond that the trotting fields that stretched towards the trees. The mail pony was just now passing by with his letter cart. He wore thick glasses and a small postpony's hat that barely covered his graying head of hair. It was too early to be dropping off any kind of mail, but still Big Macintosh gave a nod of greeting, and was given one back in earnest.

"That's just the problem, Sis," he said, looking towards town. A few miles away from Sweet Apple Acres, only the highest rooftops and towers were visible over the treeline.

"Hm?" said Applejack, joining her brother with the trimmers in her teeth again. She set them back down and said, "Whatdya mean?"

"I mean that I don't really know what's wrong," said Big Macintosh.

Applejack looked puzzled, obviously. "I don't think I follow ya."

Mac nodded again. "I don't know what's wrong, but for some reason, I can feel it."

Applejack shook her head. "Feel it? I can't feel nothin'."

"It's in the air," Mac said. "You can almost smell something bad when it's in the air like that. Kinda like smelling rain before ya see it."

Applejack scrunched her snout, then raised her head up and sniffed. "Well I don't smell nothin' but a beautiful mornin'." She smiled and looked her brother. "You must have super-smell. Shoot, you might even put Winona to shame with senses like that."

She wanted to laugh again, but when she didn't see a smile draw across her brother's face she decided against it.

"Maybe," said Big Macintosh. "But I just know. Somethin's up. And whatever it is, it ain't no good."

Applejack was frowning again. "If you don't mind me sayin', yer not makin' a lick of sense, Big Macintosh."

"Eyup," he replied, "I know that much. I don' even understand it myself. I didn't 'spect you to, neither."

Applejack wanted to say something, but she left it alone. Her brother was completely right. She didn't understand any of it, and there was probably no way that she would for a long time, or until things became more clear. Maybe her brother really was having bad feelings about something, or maybe he just had a stomach ache. It was anypony's guess.

They stood there a while longer, watching as several townsfolk made their way down the road, running their morning errands. Or going home, as the case may be.

Applejack was the first to break the silence. "So, these bad feelin's, doy'all know what it means?"

Big Macintosh shook his head. "Nnope," he said. "Ain't got no idea."

She smiled and nudged him in his side. "Well, t'aint no reason fer us to just be standin' around and gabbin' while there's work to be done, is it?"

Finally, Big Macintosh tried to smile, but it came out as more of a smirke. His strand of wheat perked up in his teeth. "Nnope."

"Alright then," said Applejack, as she bent down to pick up the trimmers. "Let's get to it."

With the tool in her teeth, she tried to speak. "Yuh go an' hijjuh dah card, an' branget wivus."

"Sure thing, Sis," said Big Macintosh, and with that he turned towards the barn and went to find the wagon, while his sister went ahead and trotted towards the first orchid.

Without another rest, his back was beginning to cramp up again, and there wasn't a curse word strong enough to say. And nopony to scream at. Out here, there was barely any signs of life. It seemed perfect, it really did, but he still wondered.

He raised his watch to check the time again, and this time the hands pointed to the right numbers. It was only a few minutes past six o' clock. This came as more of a relief than he had expected it to be. His shoulders were winding so tight they felt like the skins of drums, and his hoofs felt swollen against his shoes, so the thought of finally dropping the wagon was enough to make his ankles buckle and shiver.

The trail had become just that: a trail, roughly cut into the brush long ago. But without care or hooves to tread the way over so many years the path had grown into something of a wild passage between trees and shrubs, where everything and anything grew in the road and reached out like malicious hands to scratch and poke and prod.

And as the flora became more devious, so did the road itself start to fade into the environment, turning it into a hideous thing that threatened to throw him off course. It took concentration to keep on track, to pick out and navigate the spots where there was a little less plant life, or otherwise he could have gone in any direction.

Now, he sat down in the dirt again, but he didn't bother to remove the harness from the wagon like before. He didn't have the strength in him to muster up the energy just yet. He shook his head and tried to shake some of the sweat out of his tangled mane. Instead, he ended up spreading damp strands of hair into his face. He groaned and threw his head back, as much as it hurt his neck and shoulders to toss his hair around.

When he was satisfied, he sighed and hung his face low. Now, more than ever, he wanted that drink. The one he had been offered his first day here. But he declined, made some terrible excuse and lied about his reasons. And half a day later, here he was. Sitting in the forest, strapped to a wagon with one very dead stallion resting inside underneath a thin tarp and a veil of straw.

The very same pony who had offered him the drink.

Left alone to his thoughts, he found that the worst part of all of this was being alone. In fact, traversing these unfamiliar woods--with a corpse as his only company-- to cover up a serious crime made him realise that he had never felt more alone in all his life.

But there was still work to be done.

There was always work to be done.

The only way that things would be normal again, to really begin his fresh start as a newcomer to this town, was to make it look like nothing had ever happened. Like there had never been a murder, and that there was no evidence to suggest otherwise.

It wouldn't be the first time he was forced to do this, but each time he hoped it would be his last.

Fool you once, shame on you.

The morning had shown its face as quickly as ever, the dawn cracking like a whip. The sky was lighting up with all sorts of colors, as if an elaborate light show was just now beginning. The spaces between the trees became more lively, and that, at least, made the trip a bit more smooth. It was easier to see that protruding root, or that thin patch of moss covering a hole, without the dim glow of the moonlight as the only way to see.

But with the coming daylight fastly approaching, something had caught his attention less than a half hour ago, something that was incredibly difficult to just ignore, and since then he had been wondering- and worrying -if what he was seeing was real or not.

He could blame the unusual results of his observation on just about anything that could be done to a pony's body to cause some kind of impairment; dehydration, starvation, exhaustion. But he could see, he knew that the idea was complete bullshit. He was young, and in good shape for a pony his age. And he knew this. A strapping stallion, with just the right amount of life experience to be ahead of the younger generations.

Meaning that even if he was obviously seeing things from fasting in the forest- or his mind was playing tricks on him -he had sense enough to know, to be able to tell whether or not something was real, or just an idea that grew from his imagination and into something more malevolent.

This one instance, however, was a tricky one.

Over the course of the trip, the environment around him was starting to change.

Not the way that it had before, when the straight beaten path had progressed into an overgrown wilderness that nopony had stepped hoof down for quite some time. This time, however, was something that was hard to put into words. Even now, he sat on his flanks and observed his new surroundings with the same kind of enthusiasm he had felt when he first stepped off the train just a day before, and yet that unease that followed him around was becoming overwhelming.

Everything was definitely different now, and for a moment he wondered if he had walked into an entirely new wilderness, if he was still in the general area of Everfree Forest. A listless, somehow mutated parody of a forest.

The trees were strange. Strange, in the sense that they barely resembled the proper shape or characteristics of a typical tree. Instead of healthy green foliage sprouting on the limbs, the leaves were a dark blue color from the base of the tree to the tip of the branch.

He remembered, clearly, that back in town there was a good number of trees with leaves that were a certain shade of blue. But unlike the local flora in town, the leaves looked unnatural to the point of grotesqueness. The shapes of the leaves formed points and angles that took him by surprise, with no stars or teardrops, and the exact color of blue that painted every one looked sickly and unhealthy.

This only applied to the trees that still had any leaves worth speaking of. The trees that were not in full bloom were barren in varying degrees. Some were made of nothing but tangled and warped branches that reached in all directions with gnarled tips, grabbing at nothing. Others only had one branch that was filled completely with otherworldly blue foliage, while the rest of the plant was barely alive.

There were other things that stood out besides the trees, things that simply screamed unusual to him.

The bushes closely resembled overgrown tumbleweeds- spiny, tangled vines woven into different round shapes like baskets. They were sprouting all over in different sizes, whether they were small and close to the ground or tall and balancing on a black stalk.

The ground was matted here and there with a thick green moss--a kind of green that was trampled by a piss-colored yellow--on a forest floor that was as pliable and unstable as mud.

Small, curled plants like ferns sprouted from the moss, but they were never any taller than his hoof. They were wide, however, like lillypads on open water. They were all blood red. At least, he thought they were.

The light of the morning was creeping thinly, and yet nothing was illuminated. Nothing shined on with the presence of dew. He didn't think there was any, even though the air was incredibly humid.

He also noticed, with uncertainty, that the terrain seemed different, as well. The rising and falling hills that he had traversed during the trip were gone. The ground seemed to be perfectly level, without any kind of dips or rises. It was strange, without a doubt, but then again, he wasn't complaining.

Checking his watch again, he marked his break at ten minutes on the dot, and got to his hooves. He noticed, though, that his hoof was pressing into the ground, on a fat patch of moss. There was a squishing sound, and a dark orange liquid seeped around the edges of his shoe. He could feel a certain dampness on his flanks, so there was no second guessing that the same liquid coated his backside. That bath he was planning when he arrived back in town just became a priority.

Getting the wagon moving again, he thought on how even more of that orange stuff was unearthed with each step, on whether it was drinkable water or some kind of inedible poison. Maybe some kind of nectar from the moss.

He wanted to stop where he stood, drop off the precious cargo and end this whole thing. Go back to civilization, where everything made more sense, then do everything he could to forget that it had even happened. Invent as many lies as he was capable of, and deny everything to his death.

But there was no stopping. Not yet. It didn't feel right to cut his losses in this place. Not until he went just a little bit further. The idea had occurred to him that this was somewhere that not many ponies ever ventured to. Nopony in that town would be willing to travel this far for nothing. None of them seemed the type. They were more the kind that were content with being surrounded by their friends and neighbors, a familiar and hospitable environment. And here in this part of the country he could imagine that it was the closest that the locals felt to feeling completely safe.

They were domesticated--a quality he had learned to recognise from experience--in every sense of the word.

The odds that one of those domesticated townsfolk would wander onto his cargo in a place like this was as likely as them ever being there in the first place. Slim to none. And that's what he was counting on, that was what he was taking a chance on by ever traveling this far into the unknown.

And still, his guts were bound in twine that just wouldn't stop tightening. Almost every fiber of his being wanted to turn around and leave. There was no mistaking the feeling of being somewhere that he should not be, and his mind was doing everything in its power to let him know.

But he could only push on now. There was always a point of no return, and he had already crossed his when he first killed the pony laying dead in the wagon seven hours ago. The weight of his cargo was enough to remind him of that fact, to keep him pulling. Everypony had their weights to bear, but his just happened to be more demanding. More urgent.

Even as he felt as though his body would give up on him soon, that his legs would just quit working and leave him breathless and motionless here in the middle of Everfree, he couldn't stop.

Keep going he thought to himself.

And that was all it took. No encouragements, no compromising. Just keep going.

Keep going until your hooves were going to fall off.

And then keep on going.

The mayor of Ponyville was out of bed with the first of the roosters, something that a pony of her position was used to, in her profession. It was inarguably one of the downsides to being the acting mayor of an entire town, along with decision-making and government status. But the job was not without its advantages.

One being, coffee came cheap.

She thought on this very thing as she blew gently into her mug of coffee. It was more a heap of sugar and cream with some coffee on top, but it was still scalding hot. She never took her cream cold, figuring her beverage would stay hotter longer. Once cold, it always turned into mud, no matter how sweet it was. This was fact of life, a law of the universe, by the hand of Her Grace Princess Celestia herself.

Miniature towers of vapor rose from the mug, and with each breath those towers erupted into harmless monsoons that disappeared in an instant. She wanted to take her first sip, but she was too worried about burning her lips, or her tongue, or both. This would make her entire day unpleasant, and she needed every bit of concentration to make it through today.

The truth was that, despite her agenda for today, she didn't have much of anything to do this morning. Her desktop was bare except for her drink and her intercom receiver. No paperwork to fill out from last night, no urgent calls, no announcements to make...

Or was it that she had not done any announcements yet?

It really wasn't part of the job to talk to all of Ponyville every day, but it was a reliable method of getting word out about a town assembly or an upcoming press release. Otherwise, she did not have much to say to the townspeople.

All at once she noticed how quiet her office was. As brightly colored and well decorated the room was, there was still a semblance of isolation- loneliness, even - when things got too quiet. The clock on the wall would beat out a rhythm which could grow maddening at times. Even with work to occupy her mind, she preferred company on the long work days.

There was her secretary, Miss Seacrest, who would pop her head into the office every once in awhile to deliver reports on missed messages and important dates, or just to drop by and see how she was doing that day. Mayor Mare had always thought that the pony's personality was one of her best features, and was one of the best parts of working here in town hall.

But Miss Seacrest had not stepped into the office quite yet. Mare always was the first to arrive to town hall when the day started, so there was usually nopony to greet her when she unlocked the doors herself. And unlike the mayor, Seacrest always had some kind of work to do, and this morning she must have her work cut out for her.

Mare decided to pay the secretary a visit herself in a short while, but not just yet. She was feeling an urge to do something else first, before the day's socializing began. Looking across her desk and through the window out onto the town, she watched the townspeople already bustling about their lives. Like worker bees emerging from the hive. The merchants were setting up shop in their assorted kiosks and booths towards the marketplace side of the main street, unloading their crates and barrels of goods for display. The shop owners were opening their doors and windows and flipping their signs to open as fresh smoke billowed from the chimneys.

It did her heart good to see the town as productive as it was now, as it always had been every single morning during her tenure as mayor. It was more than just a reason to feel more appreciative and responsible about her job. She thought more for the people of Ponyville than herself, and reminded herself daily that it was more than just a job. She was doing a service to these good ponies, and felt that it was her duty- and her duty alone -to see that the town was kept in good shape. Should any misfortunes fall upon their town, she would want to be there to give leadership, to help in any way she could.

She found her hoof reaching for the intercom system, flicking a few switches here and there to the proper channels. Before she could turn the microphone on she already lost her words. On the tip of her tongue, yet her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She thought on what to say for only a moment, then made her decision.

The microphone was connected to a switch box with several different setting knobs across its face. One for volume/power, and the others for which speakers she wanted to speak through, each channel specifically connected to certain parts of town. She had found the one switch that she wanted, labeled TOWN HALL, and flicked it upwards. There was a click and a small red light came on next to it.

With that, she pressed her hoof down on the microphone's power switch, and there came a short high-pitched whine from above the room. The speakers had kicked on at the very top of the building, just a mere dozen feet above her head.

When she first tried to speak, she had to clear her throat to get rid of a frog that had lodged itself in there, and then her voice came clear and sweet, while echoing through the speakers.

"Good morning, citizens of Ponyville. This is your mayor speaking. I would just like to wish everypony a good morning, afternoon and evening. There is nothing to worry about, nothing important scheduled for today, but I do hope that you all make the best of it."

With nothing else to add, she ended her message. "That is all."

With the push of a button, the intercom was switched back off, and again there was silence. Mayor Mare took a look out through the window again and noticed that a few ponies down in the street were waving a hoof above their head in the direction of town hall. This made her smile.

Still, though, in retrospect she knew that she could have thought of something better to say. It wasn't that she imagined herself being too casual, but she felt more that she had been cheesy.

Before she could think anymore on it, there came a knock at the door, and on reflex she was up from her chair the next moment.

"Come in," she said, in a pleasant tone.

The door creaked open, and there was Miss Seacrest with a stack of papers tucked underneath one of her yellow wings. She was a plump pony, with a cutie mark shaped like a feather quill sitting in an ink well. Her glasses were a bit crooked, as they always were, and her blue hair was done up into a tight, hive-shaped bun today.

"Miss Mayah, yes, hello," she said in her Fillydelphia accent. Mare thought it was quite amusing. Not to mock the poor girl, but she couldn't help what she thought was funny and what wasn't.

"Yes, Delilah, come on in," said Mare.

Seacrest slipped herself in and gently kicked the door closed behind her.

"Good mornin', Miss Mayah," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't show up soonah, I was, eh..."

Mayor Mare spoke up before she could finish. "Oh, good morning to you, too. And it's alright if you were late. Really."

Seacrest nodded and shrugged at the same time. "I know, Miss Mayah. I was busy workin' on somethin' important, and I guess I just forgot. Then I heard ya message and decided to stop by anyways." She reached up with her wing, the one without any paper underneath it, and pushed up her glasses.

Mare smiled and pushed up her own. "Oh, what a coincidence! I was just planning on paying a visit to your office instead."

"Oh," said Seacrest, unsure even as she acknowledged the pardon, and pointed to the door. "Well, if ya want I can just go back to my office, and then ya can come."

This made Mare giggle. "No, of course not," she said while trying not to laugh too much. The whole matter struck her as hilarious. "It's fine, it's fine. I would never make you do something like that, Delilah."

Seacrest smiled. "I'm glad, Miss Mayah. By tha way, what was with the message? There's nothin' public comin' up." She came further into the room and approached the desk, carefully slipping the papers from under her wing with the tips of her feathers. "Ya just feelin' cheerful?"

Mare considered it. "Mmm, something like that," she said. "I suppose that I'm just in a good mood today."

However long the mood will last today she thought.

"Well that's always good ta hear, Miss Mayah," said Seacrest. "Now there's just a few things I'd like ta go over with ya, if ya don't mind?"

"Please, Delilah," said Mare, shaking her head slightly. "Why don't you ever just call me Mare?"

Seacrest shrugged her shoulders again. "Ah, sorry. I guess I've just gotten used to it. It's like a habit, Miss May--." She stopped herself for a moment, then continued, "Mare."

Mare rolled her eyes slightly, still smiling. "Oh, it's fine. Just call me what you prefer, Delilah."

Seacrest looked at Mare with a puzzled expression, then she smilled and raised her wings in approval. "Yes Ma'am, Miss Mayah."

Mayor Mare laughed again, but didn't do too well to hide it this time. Seacrest joined in with her.

"Very well," she said, and then took her place behind her desk again, facing the window. "About those papers?" Seacrest was to her back now, and the pegasus trotted around to the right side of the desk.

Seacrest flipped through a few pages. "Yeah, yeah, um," She was muttering a few notes to herself before she said anything.

"Crossed that out yesterday, that was two days ago, that one got canceled."

Mare sat patiently and waited, taking hold of her coffee between her hooves and blowing softly on the liquid again.

"Oh, here we go," Seacrest finally said aloud. "Todaay, you've got to fill out those order forms for more tools for those nice fellas over at the weather station. They say that some of their instruments are goin' on the fritz again.

"Mm-hm," the mayor hummed.

Seacrest flipped another page in the stack. "Ehm, you canceled that meeting with the head of the Winter Wrap-up Commission after he called in sick."

"Ooh, yes," said Mare, "I remember that letter." The writing had been barely legible, the author showing obvious signs of impairment. She had washed her hooves after reading it, fearing she would catch whatever bug had infected the poor stallion.

"And, er, Oh! Really important one here." Seacrest pointed her hoof to the inked note on the page. "You got a meetin' this afternoon with a Mister... Summers. Savory Summers."

The mayor curled her brow. "Savory Summers. Hm. Not quite sure I remember that name."

Seacrest nodded. "Yeah, I know, Miss Mayah, I'm the one that got the letter first. He wanted to meet ya and you agreed to set one up, so I wrote him back and scheduled it for today."

Mare nodded and said, "Yes, this much I know, but who is the stallion, exactly?"

Seacrest smirked. "You know, I don't really know myself. There was a business card in the envelope, and it looked all professional. Somethin' about real estate or somethin', I was too busy to really look at it."

Mayor Mare nodded in agreement. There would usually be all types of things lying on her desk by the end of the day, and it was a habit of hers to push it all into the drawer and sort it all out in the morning. Even as Mayor, she always liked to check out early.

"I'll dig it out later and have a look," said Mare. "In the meantime, the meeting goes on as scheduled."

"Yes Ma'am, Miss Mayah," said Seacrest. Is there anything else that you--"

There was a loud ringing sound that came from the hallway past the mayor's door. It was the buzzer connected to the reception desk in the lobby. It buzzed two more times in rapid succession, before Seacrest's wings sprang upward.

"Ooh, goodness!" she shouted as her wings started to flap and lifted her off the floor. In a short time she was back to the door. "Sorry, Miss Mayah, gotta take this. I'll be back latah. Chow!"

And then the Pegasus was out the door. It was a wonder that while she was in such a hurry that she didn't slam the door. Mayor Mare liked it that way.

Looking through the window, she thought about her meeting with Savory Summers.

It wouldn't be their first meeting. In all actuality, she had met the stallion on a previous outing to a restaurant in far-away Canterlot. What should have been a chance meeting seemed more like a planned encounter, she could tell. She had met several ponies before that tried the same trick.

A conversation was started, nothing more than idle chit-chat, a card was exchanged, and goodbyes were said casually. Mayor Mare reached down to her desk and slid open the drawer. There wasn't much to see at first, just a pile of unorganized papers. He brushed them aside, and sitting there in the bottom of the drawer were two identical business cards. Both dark gray, with white lettering.

Savory Summers

Summers Real-Estate

They were fakes, of course. Looking professional was what the printer had had in mind, and they had done quite a good job. There were no misprints, no evidence of wear and tear. There was even a legitimate address printed towards the bottom, for mailing purposes. 23 Heart Street.

But the catch was, there was no real estate business by that name, not one that existed anywhere in all of Equestria. No registrations, no business ledgers. She knew, because she had done the research herself the very next day. The address was real, at least, but it was a residential address. Mr. Summers's home was on Heart Street, instead of an established business.

It was enough evidence to prove that Savory Summers had been lying to her the entire time they had talked.

The world of politics had taught her a thing or two about fast talkers, and Savory Summers had been one, clear as day. And he was the kind that didn't know how to hide it too well. He spoke like a salespony, trying to sell a product with words. Mr. Summers, however, wasn't really trying to sell anything. All that he had wanted was a privately scheduled meeting.

And even now, she wondered why she had bothered to check at all.

She found herself intrigued by the whole matter, as she thought to herself the reasons why a pony would go through the trouble of lying, creating a business that did not even exist, to be able to just have a meeting with her. Her position as mayor obviously factored into it, and she was no fool when it came to matters of business. Many ponies had tried before to usher her into some kind of agreement or another, but she had always kept a cool head, kept her wits about her.

Still, though, the meeting would take place this afternoon, and she would put on her best smile, and try her best to uncover the truth, if Savory Summers wouldn't come out with it himself.

Mayor Mare finally took her first sip of coffee. It had sit too long, and was beginning to cool.

A fog was growing in the forest, with the road gone altogether it didn't help his vision at all. There was a certain smell in the air, like water. A hint of methane. He could only guess that he was near a kind of swamp.

It seemed like a blessing, at first, but the reality of the situation was that he was starting to feel chills go down his spine. Along with the fog came strange sounds, like animals and insects chirping. But what his ears caught did not sound normal, The sound of crickets seemed deeper and more prolonged, and the steady rhythm that they produced was erratic. Tree frogs sounded fat and sick, with mating calls that were unnatural for something so small. It reminded him of a wounded cow.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, and when he turned to look he saw that it was a parasprite. Or something that looked like one. The shape that the creature was in made him shudder in disgust just from looking at it. Its wings were warped and beat slowly, with veiny static patterns streaking across the fleshy film.

Its body was bloated, with a burned-looking color on leathery skin with swollen lumps covered its sides. Instead of two beady eyes, there were three. Where two legs should have been there was only one. It was thick and muscled, bending the wrong way. It could have been broken, but somehow he doubted it.

The fat thing floated around for a moment, bobbing up and down and letting out exhausted chirps, before it darted towards the trees and disappeared into the fog. The only thing he heard afterward were the sounds of paper-thin wings beating in the distance. He thought that there was more than one source now, but he paid no mind.

There were things in the trees, as well. A snake hung from the branch of a dying pine. Its body was covered with lumps in various places along its slender form, and from the neck there sprouted three heads. Only two of the heads looked healthy- along with an extra nostril on each snout -while the third was shriveled and black, dead.

The eyes on the living heads were white, without any pupil. The snake was blind.

There were no birds in the swamp, evidenced by the distressing lack of any birdsong that had gone unheard since he first stepped into this strange place.

Soon, he saw puddles of murky water covered in algae accumulating in the moss, and as he continued the puddles formed into a stream that headed in what he could only guess was North. The town was back east, so getting back home would just take following the sun as it came to pass over. He made a mental note of it as he followed the stream, hoping to find a bigger body of water.

Not even ten minutes later, he found what he was looking for. Over a small hill there was a sort of pond that dipped into the earth, and that pond grew into a wide bog that dissipated into the trees. To him it looked like a lake, like a giant cauldron of some kind of brew with vapor rising from the surface in thick ribbons. The source of the fog.

The hill he was standing on was steep, and descended maybe a good twenty feet until the land became level again and went straight into the water.

Then he realized that his insides hurt, just like his muscles. It had come sudden and uncomfortable, and his knees came together when the pain set in. He thought that maybe he was hungry, but a sharp bite of pain in his lower gut said differently. He put a hoof to his belly and pressed, groaning as he examined the bog.

It was the perfect place to do the deed.

He had an idea of what to do, to unhitch the wagon and give it a strong push, then watch as the whole thing, along with its cargo, rolled down the hill. And then the wagon would sink. Sink until it hit the bottom of the water, and the only thing he would see would be the ripples in the water as escaped air bubbled to the top. Maybe a stain of red spreading in ribbons.

And that would be all.

The thought was more than a relief. He actually felt that a weight would be lifted from his shoulders, literally and figuratively. Once it was all said and done, it would feel as though he had never done anything wrong. That he would be absolved of all his sins. To wipe the slate clean.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He couldn't let the thing go just yet. Instead, he just pulled the strap and unfastened the harness, and with a couple of steps forward he was once again free of the wagon's pull. Walking around to the side, he stood up on his hind legs and leaned over the side. The wood whined as cracked under his bulk as he dug around in the straw with one hoof.

He found what he was looking for, and then he was back on solid ground. He held his saddle bag, a simple thing made of hide without any kind of markings or insignia. His stomach gave another rumble as he fit the thing onto his back and pulled the strap against his underside. The pack was heavy, but nowhere near as heavy as the wagon he had been pulling for nine hours.

Now there was nothing hindering him from his work, and he walked around to the back of the wagon and took a deep breath. Putting his shoulder against the back of the cart, he pushed with his legs and grunted as the wagon slowly started to roll

The entire thing felt heavier than it was while he had been pulling it as he shoved more, squinting his eyes and almost growling in effort. His shoulders felt as though they were going to split in half and his knees burned, but still he pushed. And then he finally felt a give in the resistance of the wagon, and then he did not need to push anymore.

He opened his eyes and looked down, watching as the thing on wheels buckled and shook and rattled as it rolled faster and faster towards the water.

He tried to smile, but he felt too light-headed to even attempt it as he tried to catch his breath.

The wagon was almost to the water, as a board or two snapped from the sides and fell to the ground. The twig that had been holding the rear gate in place finally broke in two, and it fell open violently and swung to and fro. Pieces of straw flew everywhere and left a trail down the hill.

Closer and closer to the water, and it would all be over.

Until something went wrong

One of the front wheels had been wobbling on the way down, and now the entire thing came undone. There was a loud snap, and the wagon came crashing onto the ground at an angle that raised the back wheels from the ground. Skidding in the dirt and quickly coming to a stop, the wagon now sat still, just a few feet away from the water. The wheel kept on going, however, and soon rolled into the bog and promptly sank.

"No," the pony said aloud, through his heavy breathing. "No, no, no."

Without thinking, he took off and ran ahead, hopping over the top of the hill and sliding down the side on his hoofs. His shoes cut into the dirt and moss and left deep cuts in his wake.

"No, no, no," he repeated again and again until he reached the wagon, and when he got to his hooves all he could do was stand there, while his mind raced with panicking thoughts.

"Ah, no!" he shouted, examining the wreck. "Son of a bitch."

Frustrated to the point of his face turning red, he turned around and bucked both of his rear legs at the wagon. The kick broke what was left of the boards that made up the side.

"Piece of shit!" he screamed finally, before he was quiet again. He stood and stared out into the water, thinking of what to do next. Turning around, he looked back up the hill. He didn't realize until now just how high it had been. He would have to climb all the way back up if he wanted to leave this place.

Just a minor inconvenience, unlike the fucking wagon, which was the worst case scenario come to life.

He didn't think on what to do next, instead just choosing to act on an impulse. He took his place behind the wagon once more and put his shoulder against the rear. He pushed and pushed, trying to step forward as he did so. But the wagon did not move.

He cried out and cursed as he strained, then turned around and kicked the thing twice. Then back to pushing again.

The wagon was stuck in the ground and would never move by itself, but with all his effort the ground started to give. The place where the wheel had gone missing soon raked a streak of soil from the ground. The other wheels started to turn.

He screamed as he heard something in his back pop, and a wave of hot pain washed over his torso, but he did not stop pushing.

He heard splashing, the water stirring, and looking ahead he saw that the wagon was halfway into the water. No more pushing. He turned around and bucked again, and again, and again. Every kick banged and echoed through the bog, and with every kick the wagon moved more and more until there was no more resistance.

He gave one more buck, but his legs hit nothing, and he went onto his stomach.

He could only lay still for a second, his lungs on fire as he tried to breath again. Then he tried to crawl, get to his side and face the water.

The wagon was sinking into the water. It floated at first as it drifted out towards the center, and then the back end buckled upwards and the whole thing began going under. Bubbles were everywhere, and as the rear wheels disappeared into the bog, he sighed in relief and rested his chin on his hoof.

The job was finished.

The only thing left now was a pool of straw that floated on the water, and just like he had imagined a patch of red liquid rose to the surface and spread outward in a circling arch.

He had finally done it. He almost laughed, but he went into a dry coughing fit when he tried.

It took a few more minutes for him to get his energy back, and he slowly pushed his way back onto all fours. His legs wobbled and he ached all over his sweat-soaked body, but that feeling of relief was something he wanted to bottle and keep forever.

With that, he turned and looked back up the hill, and he thought of how he was going to climb back to the top, let alone travel all the way back to town before noon.

He didn't bother to check his watch again, there was no point in knowing what time it was.

He sat back down on his flanks and breathed fire, closed his eyes feeling like he could go to sleep right then and there and wake up later with the energy to make the trip a second time. Otherwise, he felt as though he would drop from exhaustion if he didn't get any rest beforehand.

But with the job done, all there was to do now was relax.

He could smile now, and there he sat at the edge of bog and listened to the sounds of the water lapping on the shore as the bubbles stopped floating up.

"How many more are there?" Spike muttered, as he picked up two more books from the table. They were both heavy, and he almost lost his balance as he stood back up. The entire table had been lined with books since last night, so many that he had to set a few down on the floor. Now, hours into his work, the area looked a little more tidy than it did before he first started.

The dragon had been moving books to the shelves since Twilight had first dragged him out of his basket, and sitting them on shelves and sorting them in different ways. One row of books were sorted alphabetically from A to Z. Another row was sorted by the specific contents of the tomes, ranging from field guides based on mythical creatures, to encyclopedias of types of magical elements.

He was reminded of the fact that he had not eaten breakfast yet when his belly let out a deep growling noise. Of course, Twilight had not eaten yet, either. After all, it was Spike that was supposed to be doing the cooking.

The clutter was left over from a non-stop session of reading last night. By the time Twilight had closed the cover on her last book, her eyes were so baggy and bloodshot that Spike would have laughed if he wasn't already asleep.

She was still upstairs, writing a few letters that he would probably end up having to send sometime today.  

The two books that Spike held in his claws now were just nothing more than generic spell books, old and worn from years of use and abuse. He knew that Twilight had memorized just about everything in them by heart, just because he had seen her with them so many times. Spike didn't think she had read them last night, even if she was wanting to get around to it.

Either way, back onto the shelf they would go, like always.

Spike approached the shelves to do just that when his foot caught onto something, and he cried out as he went face-first onto the carpet, the books he was holding going wild.

He landed on his snout, and quickly sitting up he rubbed his nose with both hands.

"Ooouch," he said to himself, as his snout started to swell and his eyes watered.

"Spike?" Twilight was shouting from her perch at the top of the stairs.

Spike didn't answer at first. He was too busy rubbing his sore nose.

"Spike, hold on," said Twilight, "I'm coming down."

The dragon tried to speak up and tell his employer that he was alright, but before he could there was a spark in the room, and in a flash Twilight appeared before him from a ball of light.

"I heard something happen, and--" She took one look at the dragon and gasped.

"My goodness, Spike," she said,  "Are you okay?"

Once again, Spike tried to speak, but he didn't even open his mouth before he realized that Twilight wasn't finished.

"What happened?" she asked. "Oh, are you hurt? Oh, that looks painful. Is it painful?"

Everything Twilight said interrupted Spike when he opened his mouth. "Don't move, Spike," she said as she turned and trotted out of the room. "I'll be right back."

Spike, still rubbing his nose, sighed and said, "Twilight, I'm al--"

Twilight poked her head back through the doorway and gave Spike a stern look. "Don't. Move," she said, and she was gone again.

The assistant groaned and stood in the same spot, wiping the tears from his eyes with one hand and holding his nose with the other. He felt something warm and wet on his nose, and when he looked down at his hand he was a spot of red.

"Oh," said Spike. "I guess I'm not alright."

From the next room over, Twilight's voice called out, "That's what I've been trying to tell you, Spike. Now, just a moment."

And true to her word, Twilight came back into the library just a minute later, her horn glowing brightly and a couple of objects levitating around her head in blue balls of sparkling energy. One appeared to be a roll of bandages, and the other was a bottle of some kind, maybe a potion.

"I'm fine, really," Spike insisted as he watched the things float around.

Twilight sighed as the floating bottle shook back and forth, then stopped and uncorked itself.

"Don't be silly, Spike, you're hurt," said Twilight. She looked down at his hand, and saw the spot of red he had discovered on his own. "See? You're bleeding. Now, hold out your hand."

Spike didn't want to argue anymore, his snout was in too much pain. So he instead did what Twilight asked of him and extended his paw outward.

The bottle tipped over and a thick liquid oozed into his palm. It was blue and looked as though it had a glittery substance in it, like toothpaste.

"Now, rub that on your nose," said Twilight, pointing to his bleeding snout.

Spiked groaned in frustration and began rubbing the gel-like substance onto his snout. It felt cold at first, like mint, and then there was a tickling sensation as the pain suddenly faded away. His nose still felt swollen, though, but he guessed that the blue stuff would fix that, too.

"You really should be more careful, Spike," said Twilight, as a long strip of bandage unrolled itself in mid-air. "There's only so much I can do when you get clumsy like this."

A look of frustration grew on the dragon's face. "Hey, I'm not clumsy," Spike said. "I just have my good days and my bad days, and on my bad days there's bound to be an accident or two!."

"I know, I know," said Twilight.

The strip of bandage floated towards Spike's face, and the cloth began to quickly wrap around his snout.

"I'm just worried about you, Spike. And you know that I can't have my favorite assistant getting hurt on the job."

Her work was done, and Spike looked good as new with the bandage neatly wrapped in a bun on his face. He gently squeezed it with both hands. Twilight set the objects down on the table and leaned down closer to her assistant.

"Better?" she said, with a smile.

"Yeah," Spike said apprehensively at first, but then he smiled and said, "Tons better, thanks."

Twilight giggled and said, "You're welcome, Spike."

And with that, Spike went back to work picking up more books and taking them to the shelves with a smile one his face. It gave Twilight comfort to know that her assistant enjoyed his job, even if it came with its trials and hazards.

Twilight occupied herself now by trotting over to the window and peering out onto town. The folk of Ponyville were slowly working their way towards being a bustling community. The ponies that had already crawled out of bed were going about their day. The announcement made by the mayor earlier had been a pleasant greeting to those who heard it, and everypony seemed to have a spring in their step because of it.

"Spike," she said, "When you're done I have a few letters that I need you to send off."

Spike was busy climbing up a step ladder to place a book on the higher part of the shelf.

"Sure thing, Twilight. What are they?"

Twilight shrugged. "Oh, you know, the usual. Some important stuff for the Princess."

"Friendship reports?" said Spike, slipping the book into its place.

"No, nothing like that," Twilight replied. "It's much too early to send one of those. That, and I don't really have anything to report yet."

"Well, okay then," Spike said, satisfied.

"Oh," quipped Twilight, "And I'm expecting some company very soon."

Spike's expression lit up as he picked up another book and examined the cover.

"Company?" he said, "Who's that?"

"Oh, you'll see, they should be here any moment now," said Twilight. "Think of it as a surprise."

Spike scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it will be," he said with some sarcasm.

Twilight smiled wryly and said, "Oh, I'm sure, too."

An hour passed before there came a knock at the door. Twilight was back in her roost upstairs, while Spike was busy cleaning up the leftovers from breakfast. Twilight was down to the bottom of the stairs before Spike could say anything.

"I got it, Spike," Twilight said. "Coming!"

She opened the door, and there stood one of her friends, Rarity.

"Good morning to you, Twilight," said Rarity. She was wearing one of her special hats for outings and carried a saddle bag on her back. It was covered in hand-sewn designs and bedazzled with all sorts of shiny decorations.

"Morning, Rarity," said Twilight.

Rarity strolled into the library while Twilight held the door open. "I apologize for the wait, but Pinkie decided to spend a little more time at the fruit stand than need be, for whatever reason."

"Pinkie?" said Twilight, as she went to close the door, but she felt a sudden shove as Pinkie Pie pushed her way inside at a rather quick pace.

"Yep," she said in a cheerful tone. "That's my name!" All at once she was hopping around the room, her saddle bag flopping up and down while she did.

Twilight smiled as she closed the door behind Pinkie.

"It's good to see that you're having a good morning, Pinkie," said Twilight.

Pinkie moved close to Twilight's face with a grin on her own.

"Oh, I always have good mornings, Twilight!" she said entheusiastically. "Oh, except for that one time that it rained all night and I went outside and stepped in the mud, but then I stepped in the mud again, and again, and again, and the next thing I knew I was dancing in the mud! But then it got all over my fur and my mane and my tail and then nobody wanted a hug because I was all muddy!"

Twilight raised an eyebrow, as Pinkie got close to her again. Her breath smelled of sweats.

"Isn't that funny?" said Pinkie with a wide cheerful grin.

Twilight smiled, then chuckled. "It is, yeah."

Rarity scoffed. "Well, what was not funny was how much time you took at the fruit stand, all because you wanted that pineapple," she said.

"Oh!" Pinkie perked up and reached into her pack, and produced a large ripe pineapple.

"But we don't get pineapples all the time here," Pinkie said, "And I had to have it. They are so sweet!"

Then Pinkie Pie suddenly took a giant-sized bite out of the fruit, skin and all.

She offered it to Twilight. "Wunt shum?" she said with a mouthful of pineapple.

Twilight shook her head and said, "No thanks, Pinkie, I just ate breakfast."

Rarity giggled and removed her hat, setting it on the round table, which was now free from the clutter of books from before.

"Well, isn't this place in rather tip-top shape," said Rarity. "Spike must work so hard to keep this place tidy."

Her eyes widened and she smiled, and she looked as though she had suddenly remembered something.

"That reminds me, I've got a little something here," she said, and then shouted, "Spike! Oh, Spike!"

The dragon poked his head from around the corner and his face lit up like a firecracker.

"Rarity," he said, dreamily, and made his way into the room in a comical fashion with his tail dragging behind him and his arms limp. He stood there and tried to wave to her with a limp claw.

"There he is," said Rarity with a smile. "My big reptile."

Her expression changed when she saw the bandages. "Oh, good heavens, Spike!" she said, "What happened?"

He broke from his spell on her and looked down at his snout. "Oh, it's nothing, really! Just an accident."

"Oh dear," said Rarity, leaning in closely to look at the injury. "I hope it doesn't hurt."

Spike smiled and pointed his thumb behind his back. "Nah, Twilight fixed everything," he said. "Can't feel any kind of pain now."

Rarity smiled and said, "Well, that's grand, Spike. And guess what? I've got a present here for you."

Rarity turned her head and slipped into her pack, digging around the contents.

"I've got it here somewhere, Ah! Here we are." Rarity presented from her pack a rather large jewel, a gemstone, bright green and beautifully sculpted.

Spike's eyes went wide and gleamed, and at the same time he found it difficult to keep his jaw from hanging open.

"A Boration Snake Eye!" he shouted, and looked at it for a moment longer, before taking it gently between his hands. He examined it with feverish attention to detail.

"Oh, is that what it's called," said Rarity. "I noticed it in the market, and the colored reminded me of you, and I knew how much you like it."

"Like it?" said Spike. "I love it!" He hugged the gem to his face.

"Mm hm, and what do we say?" said Rarity.

Spike suddenly became flush in the face and looked to the floor. "Um, thank you," said the little dragon.

Rarity giggled and gently patted Spike on the head. "You are so cute when you're embarrassed."

Spike didn't know what else to say. "Cute," he said, looking at his precious stone. "Yeah, cute's okay. I'll just go put this with my things." And then he rushed out of the room to go do just what he said.

Twilight smirked and said, "Wow, Rarity, that was very generous of you."

Rarity swung her curled hair. "That's me, darling, generous. Not to brag, I mean.

"It must have been expensive, though," Twilight said, moving over to the table and having a seat.

Rarity joined her. "Oh no, it's really no trouble at all. Money is no object these days."

Twilight nodded. "I take it business is going well at the boutique?"

Rarity threw her hoof up in agreement. "Darling, business has never been better. I'm still filling out so many orders, and I'm ordering materials from top-bit suppliers to make even more graceful outfits."

"You sound busy, Rarity," said Twilight. "How do you find the time to go out shopping, or even come here today?"

"Oh, I have my ways" said Rarity. "A businessmare has to have her priorities, but that's no reason for me to let my work get in the way of things like my friends. Or looking my best."

Twilight's attention went to the hat on the table. "I suppose you're right. I like your hat, by the way."

Rarity scoffed and turned her head from the hat. "That old thing? I dug it out of my special collection for today. It's really nothing special."

"Special-weshle!" said Pinkie Pie as she took another bite from her pineapple.

Twilight and Rarity both giggled at the party pony.

"Oh, yes," said Rarity as she wiped her eye and batted her eyelashes. "Things have gone so well lately, though I'm not sure why. Dresses and hats are just in high demand these days, I suppose."

Twilight smiled. "Planning on riding your good fortune?"

"Oh no," Rarity said, "I'm not going to 'ride' anything. This is just good luck, as of late. No need to think about retiring."

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't necessarily talking about retiring."

"I know you weren't, darling," said Rarity, but before she could say more, there was a gust of hot air in the room and a flash of green coming from the next room.

"Twilight!" said Spike as he rushed into the room, clutching a scroll in his hands. "Letter for you!"

"Already?" said Twilight. "But I just sent off three of them this morning."

"Tell me about it," said Spike, and he belched a small lick of green fire from between his lips.

As Spike brought Twilight the scroll, Pinkie moved alongside him.

"Doesn't that ever hurt?" said Pinkie.

Spike smiled and said, "Nah, I got used to it a long time ago. It just feels like a breath mint now."

Spike set the scroll on the table, and Twilight unrolled it carefully with her hoofs. Her eyes darted left and right as she read the letter quietly to herself. Rarity leaned in closer and tried to catch a word or two, but her attention went to focus on Twilight.

Her expression was blank, it seemed, and her lips soon began to part.

Rarity curled her brow. "Well, what does it say, Twilight?"

Twilight didn't answer, but her eyes wondered off from reading and went to the center of the table. She was quiet, with a blank expression.

"Twilight?" said Rarity, tilting her head while Twilight remained silent.

He awoke to the sounds of splashing water.

He didn't realize at first that he had been asleep, but the reality came to him when he opened his eyes and saw the water just a few feet from his face. Strange little fish had gathered at the spot on the bank, observing him as he slept. They looked nothing like fish, some covered in feathers. Just more of the local wildlife here in Everfree.

The fish were not the ones causing the splashing, but the sound caused them to scatter into the bog, where they disappeared into the murky water.

His entire body hurt, and his eyes felt heavy. He felt damp, and knew that he had been sweating in his slumber. It made him feel dirty.

"Fuckin' hell," he said to himself, as he tried to reach and rub his neck, found that he couldn't, and instead checked his watch. It was six forty-five. He hadn't bothered to check his watch beforehand, so there was no telling how long he had been sleeping.

He tried to think on what to do next, while his thoughts were slow and sleepy. There would be the hike, then the trip back to town, where he hoped to get some proper rest before the meeting with Savory. The hill would take some time to climb back up with his muscles aching the way they were. An amusing thought of getting too old passed and he laughed to himself.

He tried to stand up, but his ears perked up, and again he heard the sounds of splashing. He finally raised his head up, with a creaking in his neck, and looked around. He couldn't see anything at first, just the bog with steam vapors floating up and forming a dense fog, same as before. Until he turned his head towards the splashing.

There, standing on the edge of the water just ten feet away, was a very tall pony. Mostly it looked like a pony, but something was off. Much too tall to be one. He couldn't discern any details, his eyes still blurry. The figure was standing there, clopping one hoof in the water, looking down into the bog. As if it was examining something.

He rubbed his eyes, already feeling cramps in his hoof. His body was so stiff that he could barely even turn his head, like a furry statue. He tried to say something, opened his mouth and took a breath. Then the creature turned around, and the air caught in his throat.

Creature was the right word to describe the thing standing in the water. It turned and faced him, and before he could find another thought his body acted, and he was on all fours with his head down.

It was incredibly tall, easily measuring three feet over him on all fours, and there was a great amount of overgrown, tangled white fur all over. Its mane had grown to an almost unbelievable length, reaching towards the ground from both sides of its head, and the tail dragged across the dirt. His snout had a square shape to it, while its brow was wide and broad with large green eyes. A long shaggy goatee fell from his chin. His hooves were long and split down the middle, like those of a goat.

It was a unicorn, that enough was plain to see, but what he did see defied the proper characteristics of any unicorn he had ever seen. There was a spiraling horn sprouting from the center of its head, in a pattern that closely resembled a screw. But there were also two other horns on each side of the one in the middle. They were both long and twisted, with qualities matching what he could only describe as driftwood covered in scratches and small holes, worn and weathered. Both of them curved upwards, before doing a looping turn and then pointing sideways away from the head.

It took a step towards him, and in his pack his hoof found the proper tool. Cold and hard.

He found himself almost surprised when it first spoke, in proper English, without any slurring or accent.

"You," it said in a deep, growling voice.

He didn't answer.

The beast took another step, and he flinched. He almost felt afraid. More than he had ever felt in his life. But he would never panic. The number one rule was to never panic. And yet, he felt the cold icicles of fear piercing his skin and spine, the aches in his muscles all but forgotten. There he stood on threes, one hoof still in his pack and holding his weapon. He hoped his reflexes were still sharp

"Do you understand me?" the creature said, genuinely.

He hesitated, thoughts and words buzzing around in his head like flies.

"Yeah," he said from a dry mouth that seemed full of sand. "I do."

The unicorn-thing nodded, shaking its hair about. "Good," it said, "now tell me, who are you and what are you doing in my home?"

He studied the beast, listened like a student to a teacher. The voice, though raspy and haggard, carried sincerity with each breath, noticing the calm and civil way that it was carrying on the conversation. It didn't want any trouble. This unicorn was curious.

Maybe a little too curious, which would be unfortunate for both of them.

"Home," he said, at first, "You live here?"

The beast seemed not to care that it had just been answered a question with another question, its expression staying a solid face of patience. But he noticed something. It was studying him, as well. From head to hoof, examining him like a sculpture. It was peculiar, but he couldn't say why. It wasn't important.

"Yes, this place is my home," said the unicorn-thing, "my land, and you are trespassing on it."

"I didn't see any fucking signs around here," he quipped back.

It seemed right to go on the offensive. As much as it pained him to think about it, he felt threatened, and the best way to deal with a threat was to be just as threatening. It wasn't a tactic to make himself seem equal to the enemy, but more of a way to convince them that he was not somepony to be fucked with. A way of putting the shoe on the other hoof, and then driving it in with a long, rusted nail until he hit bone.

The creature, however, didn't seem offended in the slightest. In fact, its attention went away from him for a moment, and its lips were moving. Mouthing a word silently. He could just make out what the thing was saying by reading its lips. It was repeating fucking to itself, as if trying to dissect the word.

And then its eyes, big and green, were focused on him once again.

"There is no need for signs or warnings," said the creature, "There are no trespassers, ever."

"What do you mean 'ever?'" he said.

The unicorn-thing turned its head for a moment and thought quietly, maybe thinking of what to say next.

"You are the first thing I have seen for many years that is not a wild animal," it said. "The first I have been able to talk to."

What he was hearing made sense enough to him, considering the creature's surroundings. Anypony would have been spooked, coming through the forest like he had done today. Seeing the wildlife and their almost macabre ecosystem would be enough to make the occasional hiker or traveler turn tail and head back to reality, back to safety.

But how long had it been, really, since this creature had seen any living thing other than the weird creatures that inhabited this place? He could only wonder.

"So what?" he said.

The creature seemed to frown. "So, who are you?"

His eyes darted and he hesitated. His name was not something he gave out freely. Very few people knew his real name, while hundreds of others knew him by dozens of faux monikers.

"Taxi," he said, making up his mind that it didn't matter whether he gave his real name or a fake one. Not to this creature.

The creature once again mouthed the word silently, before repeating it aloud. "Tack-see."

"Yeah, Taxi. What's yours?"

The beast went silent again, thinking of what to say.

"Who am I..." trailing off. "I am not sure of how to answer."

He raised a brow. "You don't know who you are? Your name?"

The thing nodded. "My name. Dubin." Pronounced doo-been.

"Dubin," said Taxi, relieved that he could finally address the creature on a personal level.

"Yes," said Dubin. "I believe that to be my name."

Taxi shook his head. "I don't understand, you're not sure that that's your name?"

Dubin shook his head. "It has been long since I have used it. I had but forgotten."

Taxi found himself confused by all this, but he had already chocked it all up to Dubin being a loner in the swamp. A (pony?) who hasn't left his home in quite some time, losing touch with the outside world. But his looks were the real puzzler. Freakishly tall, three horns, goat hooves. Maybe whatever it was that was affecting the fauna of this part of Everfree was working its magic on him, as well.

"What are you doing here?" Dubin asked again.

Taxi didn't hesitate with his answer, the art of lying swimming deep in his blood. "I'm just lost," he said.

"Lost," Dubin repeated.

"That's right," Taxi lied. "I wondered into Everfree, then I lost my way. I came from Ponyville. Know where that is?" He was on all fours now, the weapon in his saddle bag no longer seeming necessary.

Dubin arched his brow and shook his head slowly.

"I do not understand any of what you're saying," said Dubin. "Everfree? What is Everfree?"

Taxi thought of how to answer. He had only learned of Everfree just yesterday, first stepping off the train and into Ponyville. It was one of the first places he had heard about, one of the important landmarks. He wasn't even so sure that he was even in Everfree at all.

"Everfree forest," he answered. "It's simple. The folks over in Ponyville--that's a town not too far from here--named this place Everfree."

Dubin smirked. "I have never heard of my home called such a thing. And I have never ventured far enough to see such a place as 'Ponyville.'" He said Ponyville as if it was a strange word, new to his tongue.

"Doesn't mean that it's not there," said Taxi. A bit of sweaty hair fell into his face, and he blew it out of the way.

Dubin nodded and said, "This is true. Though I will not get to see it today. I have to find..."

Dubin tilted his nose up into the air and sniffed. He swivled his head around as he did so, looking for a certain odor. Taxi thought he looked like a bloodhound catching a scent."

"That smell," Dubin continued, and continued sniffing.

Taxi frowned. "Smell? I don't smell anything," he said, and turned back towards the hill. "I have to get going, I've got places to be."

"Wait," Dubin said, before Taxi could take a single step.

Taxi turned himself around again. "What?" he said. "What the hell is it? I'm in a hurry."

Dubin sniffed some more, and then took a step towards him again. Taxi no longer thought of the creature as a threat, but the feeling was creeping back up inside him. The feeling of suspicion, when a lie fails. One of the worst possible things that could happen in his profession. He felt as though he would start sweating all over again. Before he could say anything else, Dubin moved quickly towards him, so swiftly that Taxi couldn't catch the movement and react fast enough. The creature's snout was on his hoof, sniffing deeply.

Taxi backed away quickly, kicking up dust as he did so.

"What the... Back off," he said, angrily.

Dubin's expression changed as he raised his head again. There was worry in that look, Taxi could recognize it any day.

"There it is, that smell," said Dubin, and he started to sniff again.

His snout went to the ground, and he followed the trail of whatever odor had caught his attention. Soon enough he found, not too far from where Taxi was standing, a deep divot in the dirt where something had torn a straight line through the soil and towards the water. Dubin turned his head towards the bog and sniffed once more.

"That smell, it is here," he said. "Right here." He clopped a gnarled hoof down onto the deep scratch in the ground.

"What smell?" said Taxi from behind, while Dubin stared out into the swamp.

"It is blood," replied Dubin. "There is no mistaking it. I can smell blood. In the air, in the water."

Dubin turned back to Taxi, and said,  "On you."

Taxi had gone back to reaching into his pack while Dubin wasn't looking, and now the beast was staring at the thing he had found.

A pistol, polished and shining, in his hoof. Automatic, cobalt, wooden grips with illuminated sights.

Aimed straight between Dubin's eyes from three feet away.

"I told you I had somewhere to be," said Taxi. "But you just couldn't fucking leave me alone, could you?"

"What did you do?" said Dubin in a distressed tone, seemingly ignoring the weapon pointing at him. He probably didn't even know what it was. Taxi thought that was just fine.

"None of your business," said Taxi.

"What did you do?" Dubin repeated. His hooves were dug into the ground now, his head lowering. Taxi noticed that the horn in the center of the creature's crown had gone from a prefect white to a gray color right almost instantly before his eyes.

"If I told you, I would have to kill you," Taxi said. "Do you understand what I'm sa--"

Dubin stomped his hoof into the ground, creating a shallow hole. "Please," he repeated, raising his voice. "Tell me what you have done!"

Taxi gritted his teeth in anger. He had had enough of this behemoth-thing giving him the third degree. "Hey," he shouted, shaking the gun as he spoke, "Do you think I'm fucking joking here?! I will shoot you in the goddamn head, if you don't--"

Taxi then scoffed and stopped just short of threatening Dubin again, when he realized that he didn't have any kind of demands. He was threatening the creature for no reason. There was no proof that he had done anything here at all, yet he had broken the number one rule. He had panicked, drawn a weapon. And now here they were. He was aiming a gun at a hermit that lived in the swamp, while the hermit himself did not seem afraid in the least about getting shot. Or even dying.

And what would he ask of Dubin? For him to stay quiet--never tell anypony a thing--or he would die? Who would he go to tell? Dubin hinted that he had never even heard of Ponyville, and that he never would. Taxi felt as though he was threatening a figment of his imagination. Harmless to anypony, including him.

"No," said Taxi, lowering his weapon. "No, there's no point."

Who is he going to tell, the trees? Taxi thought. Here's hoping that they can't talk, too.

Dubin was still glaring at him, wordlessly waiting for his answer.

Taxi shrugged, making his mind up to go ahead and spill the apples, and said, "Fine, you want to know what I did? Then I'll tell you. I brought a dead body in a wagon, and dumped it into your swamp here." He pointed to the place on the edge of the water where the line in the dirt trailed off.

Dubin gasped, his eyes going wide, as Taxi returned his weapon to his saddle bag and turned back to the hill behind him. "There, now you know," he said, "and now, I'm leaving. I better not catch you following me."

He got a hoofhold on the bottom of the hill and started to climb. "If I see you again, I will not hesitate to kill you," he said, and then grunted as he pushed his way on up the weed-infested hill.

Dubin approached Taxi, looking up at him.

"Do you know what it is you have done?" said Dubin, in a slow, deliberate voice.

Taxi climbed up another few feet before he turned and looked down to the unicorn-thing.

"The fuck do I care?" he said.

Before Taxi could turn back to continue climbing, he noticed Dubin's face. It had twisted into the image of a monster, with the purest expression of anger than he had seen from anypony in a long time. His lips had parted to reveal a set of teeth. Short, sharp teeth. The horn, which had been gray just a moment before, was now giving off a dull glow of red light.

"Do you?!" Dubin shouted in a booming voice that surprised Taxi so much that he almost lost his grip on the hill.

Taxi gritted his own teeth and took in a breath to scream right back at the fucking unicorn-thing, that he would come back down off of the hill and beat him until he was bloody. Break his hooves, drown him in the bog, leave his body with the other poor soul that now rested at the bottom of the water.

But then he heard something.

Something big. Distant, from the other side of the swamp. The sounds of trees swaying and water sloshing. Coming their way.

Dubin turned around to face the direction of the noises, his hair whipping around once again.

Taxi looked out over the rising fog, and felt a sliver of cold in his chest when he saw the tops of the far trees moving back and forth, violently swaying. The sound of rushing water came closer. Then there was a noise. An animalistic noise that shook him to his core, deep and growling. Loud, like the roar of a lion.

He looked back down to Dubin, and almost at the exact same time Dubin looked up to him. The creature looked terrified, and for just a moment Taxi wondered if he should feel the same.

He thought about Dubin's question now, if he knew what it was that he had done, and as fear- real, true terror that made his stomach churn and his knees buckle -reared its ugly head again, he found the answer.

No.

Chapter 2: The Beast

"It's an invitation," said Twilight Sparkle, her eyes darting over the words in the letter for a second time. She had been quiet for a while before Rarity was able to bring her out of her thoughts and back to reality.

"Well, whatever for?" said Rarity, who was relieved but still looked bothered by something. "I was worried there for a moment that it was something bad, the way that you went so quiet."

Twilight shook her head. "Sorry, it just caught me by surprise," she said.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense!" said Pinkie Pie, who had bounced over next to her and leaned her head in to read the letter. "What does it say?"

Twilight rolled her eyes slightly and read the letter aloud.

"Dear Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful student,"  Twilight said, as everypony else listened carefully.

"There have been some developments in something that I have been investigating for the last two years. Something of great importance. Your presence is hereby requested in Canterlot to join me in my palace tomorrow for further analysis on the subject. This matter is private, however, so only you, Twilight Sparkle, are invited. Give your friends my dearest apologies, and I do hope that you can come to my aid. After all, there is no other person I can trust more in these matters. Signed, Princess Celestia."

Pinkie Pie gasped, while the others remained silent. "An investigation?" she said. "Ooh, I wonder what it could be! Maybe she finally found out about those diamond nappers that stole some really rare jewels back when I was a filly on the rock farm! Or, oh! Maybe she finally figured out why the sky is blue!"

Rarity looked at Pinkie with a peculiar expression. "Pinkie Pie, Darling," she said, "you really must get out more."

Pinkie frowned and said, "But I'm already out, right now."

Spike, who had kept his eyes on Rarity, looked to Twilight now, scratching his chin. "That does sound important," he said.

"I know, and that's why I was a bit taken back by it," said Twilight. "The Princess has never sent me a letter like this before."

Spike shrugged and said, "Well, there's no telling what it is, since she said that she didn't want us, or anypony else, for that matter, to know about it."

Rarity smiled and strutted over next to Twilight. "Well, as your friend, I'll do you the favor of not prying about it," she said.

Then, after a moment of darting her eyes around the room, she looked to Twilight and said, "But you wouldn't happen to know what it is, would you? I mean, just the smallest detail would suffice."

Twilight smiled and said, "I thought you said you wouldn't pry."

Rarity threw her head back and sighed.

"I know, I know," said Rarity, "but curiosity always gets the better of me. I just love gossip, and it drives me to lose sleep if I can never get the juicy bits."

"It could be spies," exclaimed Pinkie, "on a secret undercover mission to steal royal secrets!"

The others just ignored her.

"Sorry, Rarity," said Twilight, "but I can't tell you something that I don't know. The princess didn't tell me anything about an investigation at all, not even in her most private royal letters."

Rarity raised a brow. "Private royal letters?"

Twilight shrugged. "Yeah," she said, "she sometimes tells me some personal secrets, just between girls. I am her favorite student, after all."

Rarity gasped and flutter her eyelashes.

"And no," Twilight blurted, "I can't tell you any of them."

The look of excitement quickly faded from Rarity's face and she went into a pout.

"Oh, foo," said Rarity, disappointed.

Twilight's horn came to life as she raised the letter from the table and rolled it up tightly, then she lifted it up to her perch at the top of the library.

"So, the princess is looking into something secret, and wants your help with it," said Spike, crossing his arms.

"That's about the gist of it," said Twilight, as she got up from the table and headed for the door.

Rarity looked to Twilight with a frown. "Where are you going?" she said.

Twilight, just opening the door, said, "I think that it's probably a good idea to tell the others about this."

"But we just got here!" said Pinkie. She had already finished her first pineapple, when she took another out of her saddle bag and bit a large chunk out of it.

"I must agree with Pinkie, Twilight," said Rarity. "We've only just arrived, and you're leaving?"

Twilight bowed her head, and said, "I know, and I'm sorry, but this is just too important of something to keep from the others, so I'm going to go tell them. Sorry to have wasted your trip."

Rarity smiled and shook her head. "Oh no, dear," she said, "you've got it all wrong. I was just saying that we're not going to stay behind. We're all going with you."

Rarity turned to Pinkie, while she levitated her hat from the table gently onto her head, and said, "Isn't that right, Pinkie?"

"Off coursh we are!" said Pinkie through fruit and juice stuffed in her cheeks.

"Aw, thanks, girls," said Twilight, smiling.

Spike clapped his hands together, and said, "Alright, then. I'll just stay here and do some chores, I guess."

Spike had just turned around to leave the room when Twilight turned to him and said, "You can come along too, Spike. We haven't been getting out much, anyways."

Spike turned right back around and grinned. "Alright! Thanks, Twilight!"

The baby dragon with bandages wrapped around his nose ran over to Twilight and climbed up on her back. Then he scratched his cheek with one claw. "I mean, I could use the break, anyways," he said, trying not to seem too excited.

The others all giggled as Twilight walked through the door, while Rarity and Pinkie followed behind her. They were all greeted by a sunny morning, the wind carrying a fresh scent of grass and apples, no doubt from the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. It was because of that farm that Ponyville always smelled of apples in the summer, and the thought helped Twilight make up her mind on which of her friends she would go to visit with the news first.

Rarity stepped beside Twilight, her wide hat perfectly shading her head and a small part of her back.

"So, Twilight," she said, "who do you want to go see first?"

"Applejack," Twilight said without hesitation. "I think she would want to hear it more than Fluttershy or Rainbow Dash."

Twilight looked back to Spike and said, "And besides, I think she could use the break."

They all giggled as Spike's face went flush.

"Come on, Twilight," said the baby dragon, frustrated. "Don't embarrass me like that."

Twilight chortled and said, "Sorry, Spike. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity."

With that, the group started to head off towards Sweet Apple Acres, when a stallion stepped in front of Twilight, and she couldn't help but stop suddenly.

He was tall, with pitch black fur and a mane fashioned into a tail to match. He had a neat mustache just above his lip, obviously groomed. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and he wore a green bow tie around his neck. On his back was a plain leather saddle bag, without any special colors or designs.

His cutie mark was a pair of white dice with perfect number spots on their sides.

"Excuse me," he said in a overly soothing voice. There was a hint of an accent, the kind that ponies from Los Applese would have. "Is the library still open? I was hoping to find something in the science fiction section."

Twilight, not sure how to answer honestly, smiled and said, "I'm sorry sir, but at the moment, no. The library will be closed for the next hour or so. Important business, you see."

The stallion smirked. "Yes," he said, "I do see."

There was a moment of awkward silence as nopony said anything, and then the stallion finally spoke up and stepped past the group. "Well, have a nice day, anyway," he said, and then he was gone, heading the other direction down the road.

Rarity watched him as he trotted away. "Now there's a gentleman who knows how to pull off a good look." Then she grimaced, and said "I wish I could same the same about his skills at accessorizing. That pack of his looked like complete rubbish."

Twilight shook her head and gave one last glance back to the stranger. "It wasn't his pack that I was paying attention to," she said. "Didn't you notice how something... off, about him?

Rarity shrugged. "Just a bit," she said. "He certainly doesn't seem to be a local. Maybe a visitor? A tourist?"

"An alien?" said Pinkie Pie from the rear. "Maybe that's what Princess Celestia is looking into." She raised her arms above her head and waved them around dramatically. "Aliens!"

Spike raised a brow and looked at Pinkie. "I'm pretty sure it's not aliens, Pinkie," he said, then looked back to Twilight and Rarity. "But yeah, that guy kinda gave me the creeps." He put a claw to his chin now, thinking. "Or maybe it's just everypony in sunglasses that gives me the creeps."

Twilight shook her head. "Either way, we shouldn't worry about it too much. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover; he's probably just a normal guy. You all remember how we learned that from Zecora a long time ago?"

Rarity groaned and said, "Oh, good heavens, don't remind me. I still feel like such a fool from the way we all handled that situation."

"We all do, Rarity," said Pinkie. "Especially with that song I made up about her. You remember, right?"

Pinkie took a deep breath and let out a single note, before Rarity shoved a hoof over her mouth.

"Please, Pinkie, let the past stay in the past, shall we?" said Rarity, and removed her hoof.

Pinkie just smiled. "Okie dokey. I forgot most of the words, anyway." And then she took another bite of pineapple.

They all shared a laugh, and then they were once again on their way to see Applejack.

He watched as they walked away laughing from behind the corner of the shop, after exchanging a few more words with each other. Somepony must have said something funny. He wasn't much good with reading lips, but there was no doubting that they were talking about him. He was aware that his presence made some ponies nervous. It brought him comfort, though, to know that just his appearance was enough to unsettle, and that always made his work easier.

Always.

Savory Summers waited until the quartet was out of sight before he reemerged from his hiding spot and walked back to the library's front door. He took a look up and marveled at the architecture of the building. The perfect shape of the windows, the stability of the balconies on the side and very top of the tree, and the overall beauty of the library/home. Whoever had built it knew a thing or two about their trade, and the fact that it was built inside of a tree pleased him even more. He was always a sucker for fine architecture. Always was, always will be.

He grabbed hold of the door knob, and unsurprisingly found that the door opened without the smallest bit of resistance. It was commonplace for just about all the townsfolk in Ponyville to not lock their doors when they went out, but this did not stop him from being amazed whenever he expected places like this to be locked up from front to back.

He took one more look outside before he quickly let himself into the library, shutting the door behind him. The room was illuminated by a chandelier that hung from the center of the tall room above a practical-looking round table with a large wooden carving of an equestrian head displayed on top. Looking around, he noticed that the library had all the signs of a home everywhere he looked. Pillows, a few dishes here and there, and other things. The odor of perfume lingered in the air, along with the smell of burning candles.

The purple unicorn with the highlights had been the first to speak up when he had asked about the library, so he could easily deduce that she was the inhabitant of this facility/home. As for the baby dragon, however, he was not too concerned about it, though he did find it strange that the mare would be carrying an infant reptile on her back like she did.

Summers didn't want to waste anymore time, so he reached into his pack and took out a small object, a gray plastic device with buttons on the side and a hole on top with a screen over it. He held it in his hoof and pressed the red button with his snout. There was a click, and the machine began to emit a whirring sound, like tiny gears turning. A small red dot of light shined next to the screened hole.

"Voice note, number seven," he said aloud, into the little machine. "In Ponyville again. This time, I'm in the library, reputed to be owned and operated by the actual resident of the facility, a one Twilight Sparkle, who I just saw leaving the library with a few of her friends, including Miss Rarity. There is also a rumor that she has a hired assistant, a dragon still in a prepubescent stage of development, whom I also just saw moments ago."

He looked around the room once more, taking in just about everything he could. He found himself feeling right at home in such a place, and could only imagine how Miss Twilight Sparkle enjoyed her life living in such a house. Simple, yet elegant.

"Not just called a library, I am seeing shelves that practically circle the entire main room, filled from top to bottom with books of all kinds of different varieties and conditions. Some look new, while others look to be in a state of aging. I can only imagine just how old some of these books are."

He clicked the red button again with his snout and the machine quit its whirring noises, then silence. The light went dark.

He looked to the small set of stairs just past the table. He walked over to them, clutching the little machine in his teeth now, and stepped up to the top. He discovered that it was a raised platform at the very top of the room. It seemed to be a kind of perch, next to a large window surrounded by opened books and candles. There were scrolls, as well, littering the area in a neat but cluttered way. All of them were tightly sealed with ribbons and wax seals.

Stepping back down to the ground level, he took the device from his mouth and pushed the red button again, and the machine was alive.

"I understand," said Summers, "that Miss Sparkle is a unicorn, and that here in this part of the country, most if not all unicorns study some form of magic. Most learn basic levitation and teleportation spells, while few others delve into more complex teachings from witches and warlocks of old. I understand that Miss Sparkle is one of those few, and that she delves heavily into tomes of magic. Almost all day, like a fanatic.

"Unlike Miss Rarity, the owner of the clothing boutique on the other side of town. As stated before, Miss Rarity is a unicorn with only basic knowledge of magic, which she uses to her advantage to work around her workshop. Miss Sparkle has set herself apart from other unicorns by aiming to achieve excellence in the field of magic by obsessively studying. It is rumored to be her one and only hobby, one which she rarely has an excuse to stop."

Walking over to one of the many shelves in the room, he set the device down on one at eye level and continued.

"Miss Sparkle's personality shows that she has a somewhat fragile psyche," he said to the device, running a hoof over a line of books. "The result of a lifetime of paying too close attention to detail. An almost feverish attention to detail, and therefore she has formed a routine-driven lifestyle that she openly and excessively exhibits during her studies. I even recall one of the townsfolk calling her 'crazy,' and the 'town crackpot, always cooking up something weird for no reason.' Though, I have heard similar details about a local zebra who lives outside of town, so that information is still being questioned. But that's all a different story for another tape.

"Should the need arise, I can perform just about any kind of research I need to in the near future, with the amount of information that the library has to offer. As a possible business, however, this place is nothing to worry about. Public service is not on the list. Not just yet."

He turned back and picked up the machine, bringing it closer to his mouth.

"I've lingered around this place long enough. I have a meeting this afternoon with the mayor, who was generous enough to make the time to see me today. And I'll be bringing a possible business associate, if and when he decides to show up.

"End of log," he said finally, and pressed his snout against the red button and killing the device again. He wasn't planning on turning it back on, so he put the thing away into his pack again.

There was no reason to stay here in the library, so after a quick peek through the window, he left himself outside again and shut the door tightly behind him. Nopony looked in his direction as he did all this, and that was wonderful.

In this town, it seemed, he could only draw attention to himself by shooting somepony in the face in the middle of the street. Even then, he felt like he could talk his way through just about anything. The ponies he had met during his stay here seemed so gullible, and it made lying easy. Things were always better when lying was easy. He could convince these sheeple that he was a prince, if he tried hard enough and had a shot or two of liquor in his belly.

Walking further out into the street, he waited patiently for a taxi coach to come along, when finally one turned onto the corner. He raised a hoof up and whistled, and the stallion pulling the coach promptly stopped in front of him.

He climbed inside the couch easily enough and made himself comfortable, sitting back and laying his front hoofs on his belly.

"Where to, pal?" said the driver, a bulky stallion with stubble on his chin.

Savory summers thought for a moment, and then said, "Are you going to Canterlot?"

The driver scoffed. "Man, I'm going just about anywhere in Equestria, if you can afford it."

Summers smiled, and his eyes gleamed behind his sunglasses. "I'm glad to hear it."

Then the coach was moving, and Summers reached up to pull the retracting canopy over his head. A long flat shadow cast over him, and he sat back in his seat, propping a hoof up on top of the other.

As the coach rattled and shook slightly, his thoughts returned to the meeting with the mayor coming later today. Not that he was worried about the meeting being called off for some ungodly reason, maybe a made-up one used as an excuse.

He thought more of his business associate, the young stallion from Hoofthorne Heights. All morning, Summers hadn't seen hide nor hair of the pony anywhere. Not a peep. Unless his information was wrong, which it never was, then the stallion was supposed to be arriving yesterday evening by train, and then meeting up with him before the real meeting took place. A proper tour of Ponyville was also included. At least, he had planned on it. He had not even been on the platform to personally welcome him off the train.

Maybe the newcomer was still sleeping the night off in a hotel somewhere, in which case Summers didn't want to bother him. Pestering was always one of the best ways to ruin a first impression.

Then again, if any of the things that his telegrams from his superiors said about the stallion were true, then the first impressions would be a bit more challenging than usual for him.

There won't be any bullshitting, that's for true he thought.

He laughed to himself about this as the coach carried him through the bustling dirt roads of the town and towards Canterlot.

Something was moving through the water, and it was big enough to move the submerged trees of the swamp in a way that made them tilt to the side, as if a strong breeze was blowing through. Some trees fell limp into the water. The thing was pushing its way through the roots, tearing them straight out of the bottom of the swamp, and it seemed that none of the trees were big enough to stand in its way. He still couldn't make out anything in the swamp from a distance, though, and the fact that it was practically invisible under the surface seemed to make everything worse.

Taxi found himself frozen to the hillside, watching as the giant monster in the water came closer. He felt the ground shake again and more dirt gave way from over his hooves.

Torn between the options to either climb as fast as he could up the hill, or to slide back down to the water and try to deal with the whole mess, he felt petrified there on the spot.

Dubin was paralyzed, as well, standing beside the water, listening, watching. It was not until some kind of impulse shot through his body like a jolt of electricity that he broke away from his trance-like state and his legs were moving. He was galloping along the waterside, back in the direction he had come from.

Taxi, meanwhile, made his own mind up to climb, and as he started to ascend he found that it would be no easy task. Each time he dug a hoof into the dirt he could already feel his grip begin to give way as the soil started to give. After a few more feet upward, he felt a slip, and his rear hoof skidded off of whatever leverage it had. And then he was sliding, gasping and grasping for anything to hold on to, until his hoof caught a root. He couldn't quite catch it, his leg bent, and then he was tumbling, screaming as he rolled back down the hill. The world started to spin, and all those old fires in his muscled suddenly burst back into flame.

Taxi hit the ground, hard, and rolled towards the water. He ended up on his side, wet, before he could get to his feet again. He felt dazed, and tried his best to shake off the impact of the fall, while his lungs remembered how to breath. He turned to Dubin, who was already starting a gallop across the bank and into the mist. Making a break for something, or running in fear. There was no way to tell.

Then he looked ahead, and saw it. Out on the surface of the bog, in the middle of the vapor curtain, was a very large ripple being formed by something that was swimming around the bottom of the water. A mass of bubbles rose to the surface in an almost never-ending torrent.

And the bubbles were coming closer.

There was instinct again, a lifesaver at times and complete destruction at others, putting him into motion, turning a hard left and pursuing Dubin.

There was no thought to it, no rational reason to run as fast and hard as he did. But there was fear, cold and unforgiving, squeezing his mind in a vice grip as his hooves splashed down hard on the dirty water and mud.

"Dubin," he said between gasping, desperate breaths.

"Dubin!"

The unicorn-thing was nowhere in sight, but he could still hear the massive creature galloping ahead. He would have to catch up. The first real thought he could find in the chaos was that if there was any safety to be found, Dubin might know where it was.

His lungs pumped hot tar into his heart, and his heart was a fiery furnace spitting molten lead into his veins, and the only thing he could do was run, hoping not to trip and fall into the water.

Somehow, he knew that would be the end of him.

He turned his head to the water, just in time to see a big splash near where he had first started running. All at once the water was alive; it was bubbling and pulsing like a heart going into seizure. Mud, debris, and scum flew everywhere.

He could see as pieces of wood were flung out into the air, some with patches of worn white paint. A large cloud of red, like a gigantic puddle of oil, began to paint the restless water.

It's eating him he thought, almost not wanting to.

Whatever it is, it's eating him.

His fears were further realized when a string of something red came flying and spinning towards him. It landed in the trees behind him, and he turned his head and slowed down just long enough to see that it was a section of intestine dangling from a tree's branches, like a grotesque party decoration.

The idea came to go into his pack, to reach for his gun, thinking that bullets could kill anything. But he knew that to be a lie. In the real world, where a mistake like that could get a pony killed, he knew better. If there was an opportunity to run, than take it. There was never a need to stay and fight against overwhelming odds when there was an escape route.

After all, what would a single pistol with 8 bullets in the clip do to whatever was swimming in the water? He would like to think that it would make a difference but, once again, he knew better.

He could finally see Dubin up ahead, and for some reason he was stopped. At first he was just a figure standing there in the fog, but as Taxi came closer he could see why Dubin wasn't running anymore.

It was a sort of shack, at first glance, fashioned from what could only be spare pieces of wood and tree limbs, strung together by rope made from strands of long-since browned grass. It wasn't a very large structure, maybe only having a one room interior, but the foundations seemed solid enough. There were spaces for windows, a large brown leaf that served as a door, and just beyond the entrance there was a place for a fire spit, dug into the ground in a hole. Several small, misshapen animal bones hung from the surrounding trees from some type of string, either as trophies or warnings.

There was a dock, about two dozen yards in length and constructed from genuine lumber, stretched out from the woodland shack and into the swamp. It had aged terribly; The lumber making up most of the dock had rotted into a dark gray color with green mold growing in every nook and cranny. The entire thing was in a severe state of disrepair, the very end having collapsed some time ago and now resting at an angle in the water. Some boards were missing altogether, no doubt put towards the construction of Dubin's shack, while others had split in half and dangled from rusted nails below the dock in twos.

Taxi came to a stop at Dubin's hooves, almost skidding onto his flanks in the shallow water. He was almost out of breath, heaving and puffing like a marathon runner, and couldn't make the effort to catch a second wind. If he kept on going like this, he would surely lose consciousness. Then it would all be over for him, paying the ultimate price for his mistakes.

The look Dubin was giving Taxi was terrible, like a melting pot of terror and rage all mixed together in a potent brew. It made him want to punch the creature in the mouth and knock out those fucking cannibal teeth of his, just for how hateful the unicorn-thing looked.

"Dubin," Taxi wheezed, or at least tried to. The words came out dry and listless.

"Dubin... what the hell is go... going on?"

Dubin only shook his head slowly, no answer.

"God damnit, Dubin," Taxi said. "you tell me right now, what is... in the water?"

"You truly do not understand what it is you have done," said Dubin, his chin raised high, his center horn giving off that soft red glow.

Taxi stayed quiet, choosing not to waste anymore breath. He was feeling light-headed, as if somepony was pumping smoke into his brain.

"You brought blood here," Dubin continued. "You brought food here, and it came. It knows there is food here, and now it will never leave. Not until all the food is gone."

Dubin leaned his head down to Taxi and raised his voice, saying, "My food! My only food is gone, and it is your fault!"

Food? What the hell is he talking about? Taxi thought.

Taxi, finally catching his breath, raised his head up and looked Dubin in his eyes.

"I didn't do a damned thing," Taxi snapped back.

Dubin growled at him through his sharp teeth.

"You are the one bringing a body into my home," said Dubin. "I can smell it all over you."

Taxi wanted to say something, but then he thought back to the last time he had actually touched the corpse, when it was beginning to fall out of the wagon. A few drops of blood had smeared onto his hoof, and even after washing it off with dirt, Dubin had still smelled it. As if his entire body was soaked in the stuff. There was no doubt that the creature had a sense of smell more powerful than he could imagine.

"So what?" Taxi argued back. "This isn't my fault. I don't even now what's happening here, but I have nothing to do with any of--"

His sentence was cut short when he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

He turned and saw that the end of the dock, the collapsed end that rested in the water, was buckling and shaking. Creaking, moaning. He knew now, that the thing in the water had followed him.

There was no time to say anything, before the world exploded into a display of sheer chaos. The dock started to collapse even more from the end, the legs holding up the structure breaking in the water and falling aside. There were loud snapping noises as the old nails gave way and wood splintered and twisted.

The monster was destroying the dock, piece by piece.

Wooden boards were flinging into the air and falling into the water as the beast came closer, and once again Taxi's fears got the better of him. His hooves carried him away, back in the direction he had come from, before the destruction could reach land. He could hear Dubin following him, closely.

There was the sound of rushing water again, and Taxi could not stop himself from momentarily pausing to turn back and look.

It was huge, bigger than anything he had ever seen before, and just the sight of it coming out of the water, bursting through the very last section of the dock that was still intact, made his heart skip a beat. It looked like a fish, but he noticed that the monster had more the characteristics of a serpent. A giant maw, underneath a pair of pure white eyes, opened up in front, and all he could see were rows and rows of teeth that looked like knives so rusted that they were mangled. The skin was lined with sharp, mangled scales, of a color that his eyes couldn't quite recognize. Dozens of long fins with points along the ends stretched from the monster's head along its side and towards the tail, a cone-shaped appendage that reminded him of an inside-out umbrella.

The monster was airborne, jettisoning itself out of the swamp, and an unnerving roar that made his ears ring and his bladder squeeze was bellowing from the gaping dagger-mouth, and Taxi could only observe in awe like a spectator as the beast's entire body as a whole came smashing into the side of Dubin's shack, with the force of a wrecking ball.

There was a crash that sounded like an explosion, and in an instant the structure was completely destroyed under the monster's weight. Limbs and boards shot in every direction, and when the monster began to flop around and flatten the rest of the shack, Taxi could see that there was nothing left of Dubin's home. One second it was there, and then there was nothing. The monster was crying out with a shrill noise that sounded angry as it rolled around on top of the pile of broken debris that used to be a shack.

A fish out of water.

Taxi took one last look at Dubin, who could do nothing but watch with his jaw dropped and his eyes wide as his home disappeared beneath the hulking mass of the fish monster, and then he was moving again.

Rainbow Dash was always glad to bring Tank along with her whenever she could as she flew around Ponyville. Even with the small propulsion system strapped to his shell, he was still a slow mover, which is why there was rarely an appropriate time to bring the tortoise on her routine flights. When speed was a priority, she didn't want to have to worry about leaving her pet in the dust and having to go back and fetch him.

It pained her to say it, but the animal just slowed her down sometimes.

Today was a free day for her, though. The weather for the next few days was going to be clear and sunny, while the clouds were still flowing in from the East. It wouldn't be until next week when she was needed once again to rangle them up like so much cattle, until the commission over at the weather station could make plans for them.

Today, the pegasus only needed to fly at cruising speeds, since her schedule was marked with nothing but relaxation.

She was just coming over Ponyville now, town hall always being the first landmark her eyes would spot. The sun was barely in the sky, and still she could see ponies up and at 'em like a colony of ants; they looked like ants from her height.

She decided to stop for a second to check on her pet, and when she fluttered her wings and turned herself sideways, she saw that the reptile wasn't too far behind.

"Come on, Tank," she said affectionately to the flying tortoise. Tank drew closer, seemingly hovering as the small whirring gyro did its work. She couldn't really understand the design herself, but Twilight had cooked it up when she had chosen Tank to be her one and only pet. A small propeller fastened to some kind of apparatus that always gave off a glow. It was obviously magic, since there were no signs of anything mechanical--like a motor or a dynamo--to drive the machine and give the land-creature the power of flight.

Finally, the tortoise caught up to his owner. He was wearing the miniature aviation goggles that Rainbow Dash liked so much, and seeing them made her smile. They looked awesome and, dare she say it, kind of cute.

"Good job, boy," said Dash, rubbing Tank on the head, and he wobbled back and forth in the air as she rubbed harder and faster to give her pet a noogy. "You're doing better at keeping pace."

Dash was feeling energetic, so on an impulse she flung herself backwards and opened her wings wide, flapping when she was upside-down and completing a stylish backflip.

"We'll turn you into an honarary pegasus yet," she said, and knocked Tank in the side of his shell. He wobbled for a bit, but soon stabilized himself. The propeller in his gyro picked up speed as he leaned his body back and dipped down, attempting to mimic his owner's back flip. He lost control for a moment, and started to plummet downward for a brief second, but he stabilized once again and floated back up to Rainbow Dash

Dash chuckled and tilted her body sideways, slowly flying in a circle around Tank.

"You're doing pretty good, I'll admit," she said. "Your overall speed performance is getting more refined, but your control is still lacking. I know you got a big shell and all, but with practice you'll be doing curves and maneuvers like a pro in no time." She stopped circling her pet, who had been rotating to follow her gaze.

Dash crossed her arms and examined Tank's gyro. "Before long," she said, "we'll get that old thing replaced with something that has a little more..." She uncrossed her arms, then pumped both of them backwards like she was yanking something and threw her pelvis out. "Oomph!"

The turtle's beady eyes pursed behind his goggles and his wrinkled face curled into a smile.

"But!" Rainbow Dash interjected, pointing a hoof at the gyro. "You gotta master that thing first. Got it?"

Tank slowly nodded his head in agreement.

"Right then," Dash said, smirking.

She turned herself back to town and looked down on Equestria with a bird's-eye view of everything.

Sweet Apple Acres was off in the distance, a mass of trees stretching for miles with a small bunch of buildings huddled in the front. Twilight's house was easy to spot, easily being the biggest tree in all of Ponyville.

Another train was coming in from out West, finishing a trip through the desert. From the height it looked like a long metal snake slithering in a perfect straight line, with a column of smoke rising from its head like a stack of cotton.

Everfree Forest was a great big blight on the landscape, a long stretch of green and blue and purple and whatever other color the trees were out that way. For as far as she could see, there was nothing but great tall trees spreading out into the landscape. She was not quite sure what was beyond that forest, and she didn't care. If it wasn't for Zecora, one of her few friends who lived in such a place, she would have nothing to do with the place, with all of its monsters and hazardous terrain.

The sun was a great ball of white fire, like a camera flash that froze and never moved again. Blinding and warm, the big life giver, all thanks to Princess Celestia.

It was times like this, when she flew as high as she wished and could see anything and everything, that she felt like owned the world. All the sky of Equestria was her own personal playground, and everything the light touched was hers. Every little shop, every little tree, even every little cloud, all for the taking. She would ascend to the heavens on days like this, and daydream of what it would be like to reach out and touch the earth. To pull the mountains and hills higher, and to bring everything up to her level, including her friends, to live in the sky with her.

She sighed as her heart fluttered in her chest, as if it had its own pair of wings, while she lost herself in her imagination.

Then she felt a slight tug at her rainbow-striped mane, which was just enough to bring her back to reality. She turned and glared at Tank, who had been pulling on her mane with both hands pushed together. "Do you mind?" Dash said, her train of thought gone with the wind. "I'm kinda havin' a moment here."

Tank only shook his head and pointed downward, towards the town.

"What, you see something?" Dash said, confused, and looked down.

Not noticing anything at first, she took another look at her pet and gave him a confused expression, shrugging her shoulder and putting her hooves up in a What? gesture.

The tortoise down again, and this time she carefully followed the length of his arm, to see exactly where he was pointing. As she looked closer, she could see that Tank was pointing towards Everfree Forest. Or, at least to the line of the forest, which served as a sort of invisible barrier to anypony smart enough to stay out of the dangerous place. Coincidentally, it was where Fluttershy had found herself a home. How or why she had chosen to live so close to a place that frightened her so much was still a mystery to everypony.

Fluttershy's house was just a small structure from where she was, and the dirt roads leading to and from her home were nothing but light tracks of brown in the green.

She squinted her eyes and leaned down a bit, putting a hoof in the direction of the sun to block the light, and there on the little dirt path was a single figure moving away from the house and over the tiny bridge.

"Oh, I get it now," exclaimed Rainbow Dash, rubbing her chin. "Fluttershy's awake!"

A thought struck her like a hammer to the head, and Dash turned to Tank and gave him a devious look, with a grin to match.

"Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" she whispered to her pet, who only nodded in agreement and smiled a wrinkled smile.

Dash's wings spread wide as she raised her hooves to the sky and threw her head back.

"PRANK!" she shouted to nopony, and then burst into a fit of fiendish laughter as her wings folded and she fell back down to Equestria with all the other ants/ponies to play a joke on her good friend the animal-lover.

Fluttershy had just finished fixing up things around house where some of her pets were leaving a mess. It was still morning, and she was working up a sweat already. There were small piles of dung on the stairs from where something had had an accident. The fabric on the tall scratching post in the den needed reupholstering from too much wear and tear, which was something she would need to hire a professional to do properly. A few birdhouses had fallen in the night and were on the floor--shattered and chipped--when she found them.

When cleaning around the house was done, breakfast was next on the daily agenda. After rounding up some boxes and sacks of feed, she had spent most of her morning filling troughs and bird feeders, spreading corn in the chicken yard, and everything inbetween. As hard as the work was, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment every morning when her job was done. Even though only half of her pets were up and about, the ones still sleeping would be assured a full meal upon awakening.

On top of serving breakfast to every animal she owned, she had to cook her own food, needing a source of energy to make it through the rest morning. It was not much, just a hoofful of wildflowers on an English muffin, but it did the trick.

Now she was heading to town, leaving her precious animals alone for a short while, to restock the kitchen cabinets. It almost hurt to leave them like this, but what could she do? There was nopony else in town who could take care of the animals as well as she did. She was really the only who could make sure that they were okay, the only one who could speak to them in their times of need.

What if one of her foxes wondered over into the chicken coop because he couldn't find his food? What if one of her many birds broke a wing while she was away and was left alone and defenseless to any of the predators she owned?

She couldn't help but worry herself to death sometimes, as much as she loved each and every one of her pets. She had told herself many times before that worrying would do noting but give her an ulcer, the exact same thing that she heard from her friends all the time. But in a way, she figured, half of motherhood was worry, and she really did feel like a mother to her flock.

Her wings were already tired, so she decided to walk to the Ponyville market today. She was wearing her favorite saddle bag, the lime-green one with the flower for a button and satin leaves sewn to the straps. Rarity had made it just for her on her last birthday, and every time she wore it Fluttershy could remember how happy she was the first time she had seen it.

Just stepping over the little stone bridge that ran over the small brook in front of her house, she thought about singing to herself, and what song she should sing. She knew the words to many songs, mostly lullabies and for-the-occasion pieces. She had always been a music lover, but somewhere along the line she never bothered to turn that love into anything other than a shallow singing hobby. Still, she prided herself on whatever abilities she had.

She first hummed the tune, trying to find the right notes. A little practice before the real thing always did good. She liked to judge herself on how well she performed her own melodies, which was always better than having others judge for her.

She licked her lips, took a gentle breath, and she began to sing.

"If there was ever--"

She was startled when there was a powerful gust of concentrated wind blowing directly into her face, and at the same time she could hear a loud voice screaming something at her. She tried to scream, but before she could she lost her balance and landed on her back with her wings spread wide open. She started to kick her legs as she finally got the breath to let out a high-pitched squeal. Her heart was beating like a war drum, and she was shaking like a leaf.

As she tried to roll over onto her side, she heard a sound. Chortling, like stifled laughter, coming from behind her. She didn't want to turn around to see at first, still shaken from the fall, but she forced herself to look.

There, hovering a few feet from the ground, was a blue pegasus with Rainbow Hair, with her face twisted into a nasty grin to keep from laughing.

"R-Rainbow Dash," Fluttershy stuttered, "Was that you?"

Dash couldn't help herself any longer, and as she burst into a fit of laughter her wings quit on her and she fell flat on her back in the dirt, holding her sides as she howled.

Fluttershy grunted and got to her hooves, then brushed herself off with the tips of her wings like a set of feather dusters. A disgruntled look was quickly growing on her face, and she waited patiently for Rainbow Dash to recover from her sudden case of the giggles.

Dash was still doubled over on the ground, and she had to roll over when she almost choked from the laughter. "Oh Fluttershy," she said, wiping a tear from her eye, "you should have seen the look on your face. It was priceless! You look so funny, every time it happens!" And then she was lost to laughter once again.

"I didn't think it was very funny," Fluttershy mumbled, so embarrassed from the scare that her cheeks were becoming flushed.

Dash rolled over on her back and tried to catch her breath, with all the giggles gone. "Hoo, man," she said to herself. Then she rolled over onto her stomach and looked up at Fluttershy. "Come on, Fluttershy, you gotta admit that it was pretty cool."

Fluttershy squinted her eyes and shook her head. "There's nothing cool about scaring me half to death," she said, then turned away from Dash and continued trotting on to town beside a long white fence.

Rainbow Dash's grin quickly turned into a frown when her friend turned away, her wings slowly lifting her back off the ground. "Aw, man," she said to herself, then she began to follow her friend. Fluttershy was still wearing a look of disdain when Dash caught up, hovering in perfect unison with her steps.

"Ah, come on, don't be mad," said Rainbow Dash. "It was only a prank, I didn't mean anything by it."

Fluttershy didn't say anything, seemingly ignoring her friend, keeping a steady pace on the dirt road.

"Look, I'm sorry," Dash pleaded to her, putting her hooves together. "Please don't be mad with me."

Fluttershy suddenly stopped in her tracks, beneath the shade of a large tree growing in the field behind the fence. Still, she was silent, and choose to look ahead instead of looking back at Dash, who could only flap her wings and rub the back of her neck.

"It was a joke, I swear," Dash went on. "I didn't mean to scare you so bad."

"Really?" said Fluttershy, in a smug tone, then she turned around and smirked at Rainbow Dash. "Because I thought you were just showing me how slow you are."

Dash was shocked at first, her face changing into an O expression. Then she smiled, and said, "Oh, wow, are you kidding me?"

Fluttershy's smirk faded into a normal smile, and then she was giggling herself.

"I can't believe I fell for that," exclaimed Rainbow Dash. "And you were selling it so good!"

Fluttershy turned her head and hid her face behind her mane. "Well, I know a little bit about payback," said the shy pegasus.

Dash's wings folded and she landed on her hooves. "Really though, I'm sorry about scaring you so bad," she said, "I just saw you coming and I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to let an opportunity like that go to waste."

"Oh, it's okay, I totally understand," said Fluttershy as she turned her head back and flipped her mane out of her eyes. "I was laughing inside, anyways, once I knew it was you."

Dash chuckled and turned back towards Fluttershy's house, looking up into the sky.

"What are you looking at, Rainbow Dash?" said Fluttershy, and then she joined her and looked up. She gasped when she saw a tortoise hovering down from the sky. "Oh, you brought Tank!"

Tank floated down between the two ponies, and then his gyro shut off, gradually coming to a complete stop.

"Yep," said Rainbow Dash. "I figured that since I had the day off, I'd take the little turtle out for a training run."

"Tortoise," said Fluttershy as she gave Tank's shell a rub.

"Darn it," said Rainbow Dash, kicking the dirt. "You think I would have learned to tell the difference by now. I mean, turtles, tortoises, they're both the same, right?"

"Uh, no," said Fluttershy with a bit of sarcasm, giving Dash a stern look. Then her attention went back to Tank, who was stretching his head further out to get a better look at Fluttershy through his thick goggles. "Isn't that right, my little tortoise?" she asked, while she gently scratched Tank's chin. The reptile let out a low growling sound and smiled from his chin getting scratched.

"Yeah, whatever," said Rainbow Dash, "I'll get it eventually. I'm doing everything else right, ain't I?"

"I'll say," said Fluttershy, "He's in great shape. I'm so grateful that you're taking such good care of him."

Rainbow Dash scoffed and said, "You're grateful? If it wasn't for you, I never would have met him."

"I know, I know, but I always think about every single pet that I let go," said Fluttershy, "And I'm always glad to hear that they have good new owners."

Rainbow Dash was the one embarrassed now, and it was showing by the very faint flush in her face. "Yeah, you know me," she said.

"Well, I really must be going," said Fluttershy, turning back to town and going back into a trot to finish her errands. "I've got to go do some shopping."

Rainbow Dash was off the ground again and next to her friend in a mere second at these words, flying alongside her. "Cool, I'll come with," she said.

Fluttershy was a little surprised at first, how quickly Dash had joined her, but then she smiled. "You won't hear any objections from me," she said, "I wanted some company, anyways."

"Eh, no problem," said Dash, and then she called out, "Come on, Tank! We're going to market!"

The tortoise nodded, and then the small machine strapped to his shell started to glow again. The propeller on top was spinning again, steadily working up momentum until his feet lifted off from the ground. Now airborne, Tank flew after his owner as quickly as he could.

Now there was panic, no time to think about the rules anymore. In fact, there ws no time to think about anything. He wished, more than anything, that he had a pair of wings, and with them he would fly out of this cursed swamp and return to civilization, and never look back again.

The meeting was no longer a priority. Savory Summers would have to wait; the job and the money and everything else would just have to wait. His life was on the line now, he knew, and there was no way that he would make it out of here alive by relying on anypony else. There had always been help before, some kind of contingency plan to make sure that everything went the way it should.

But out here, alone, there was nothing. No safety net, no backup waiting behind the trees, no hidden weapons left by hired passerby. Just one stallion, trapped in a haunted swamp with a meat-eating fish bigger than a train car.

And on top of everything else, this was nopony's fault but his own.

As much as it hurt to push himself to such extremes, Taxi strained to go as fast as possible, on two pairs of legs that each felt like they would crack open like dry chicken bones at any second.

Dirty water splashed in his face as with each step as he galloped back to the hill, and as refreshing as this felt it did not help him as he sprinted through the mist. Behind him, he could still hear the sounds of the monster, wallowing on top of the shack wreckage. There was another defiant roar from the beast, and then another giant splash as it rolled back into the bog.

As desperate as he was, there was still one rational thought clinging to his mind, and it told him that the hill he had fallen down just moments ago was the only way out of here, the only way to safety. As he drew closer, there was still the fresh memory of the first time he had tried to climb up the steep slope, and how soft the ground had been so his hooves would break right through with each grasp.

No other options, you fucking idiot.

He almost leaped towards the hill, his hooves catching loose dirt, and then his hind legs pushed as much as they could, almost as if he was trying to shove something heavy out of the way.

With some difficulty, he was up and off the ground, slowly working his way to the top. He hadn't gotten any further than last time when he heard behind him the water sloshing and rustling. He did not dare to look back, but still he could sense that the fish monster in the bog was coming for him now. The blood from the corpse was what must have gotten it excited. It liked what it tasted, wanted even more of it, almost like a one-shark feeding frenzy.

Then he felt the ground giving again, and his hoof slipped. His heart felt like it was swelling to the point of bursting, and he could feel himself sliding downward. On a reflex, he pressed his rear hooves deeper into the soil. Slowly but surely, he came to stop before he hit the ground, and then he was climbing again with a feverish pace.

Clawing and swiping at the dirt like a scared animal, certainly being one at this point, the very top of the rise came into view. There were the leaves as the very tops of trees, along with the grassless, mossy ground. Freedom was so close, he could almost literally reach out and touch it.

He was only a few feet away from the edge, but the sight of it didn't help him at all. Every part of his body felt like it was full of red-hot nails tucked inbetween every sinew and tendon. His muscles were nothing but bushles of corn husks. His lungs were balloons, old and worn, ready to pop. With one hoof stretched upward and embedded in the dirt, he knew that he couldn't climb another step. He was spent, like a car without any fuel that only turned over when you twisted the key.

And still, his ears betrayed him, and he could hear the thing drawing closer. Everywhere that it went, the water was alive with movement, the monster's body scraping against the bottom of the bog and stirring up dirt and air pockets that came up in bubbling cloud.

He could almost see it in his mind's eye, but he did not turn to see for himself. He would never look back to see that beast again. Hearing the monster was enough to get him moving again. There was one last burst of energy like before, when he had forced the wagon into the water in the first place, and he pulled himself towards the edge.

His rear legs refused to push him anymore, and every bit of juice left in him went to that one last pull. He ground his teeth enough to feel a crunching sensation. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and his bladder felt as though it would let loose.

And then he was falling forward, his chin hitting the soft ground with enough of an impact to make his jaw hurt. He could feel flat solid ground beneath his stomach, and he tried to crawl forward, away from the edge. Even running on empty his engine still has some spark, just enough to help him move away from the edge of the hill, like somepony crawling away from a train wreck.

Everything hurt. even when he rolled over onto his back and his eye went to the sky. Past the silhouettes of the dying trees, the sky was still changing as the morning progressed. There wasn't much of a point in checking his watch. Even if he could he wouldn't have bothered with it. Somehow, he knew that out here in the swamp time didn't matter much.

As his lungs drew in fire and his body pulsed with enough pain to make him wince, he listened for the sounds of the monster. From the top of the hill, the thing sounded as if it was far away. Finally out of reach of the deadly fish beast, he felt a calming sense of relief wash over him like a tidle wave.

He would like to think that he was miles away from the swamp, and in fact he wished it were true, but there was still the matter of leaving here. Getting back to town and getting some rest, making a journey back to the land of the living and the sane and away from the freaks and monsters, sounded like mana from heaven.

His thoughts returned to him, his mind no longer a spiraling hurricane of fear and anxiety, and the first thing he could think of was how delicious a large red apple would be at that very moment. His favorite kind was, and always would be, red delicious. A tall glass of hard cider would go perfectly with the sweet apple. Even though cider was nothing but mule piss compared to the alcohol back home, it was all that Ponyville had to offer as far as spirits, and he could care less if he had gotten a shot from a bad batch of apples.

His mouth, which had gone dry an hour ago, started to water. He smacked his lips together and closed his eyes, thinking about the warm sensation of cider slightly burning as it went down his gullet. He could almost taste it all as his vision went black and the sounds of the monster faded away with his consciousness.

"Wake up," he heard a voice say. Through the darkness, it sounded foreign and unfamiliar. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He could almost recognize that voice from somewhere in the back of his mind, but there was no putting a face to it as he stirred from another dreamless sleep.

"Wake up," the voice repeated, and now he felt his world shake as something nudged him. His eyes opened, like old windows sliding open. Everything slowly came into focus, while the distant aches came back to life. Something was close to his face, and even now he could feel small gusts of hot air blowing at him. Breathing.

He groaned and squinted his eyes, trying to at least roll over, but he was stuck there on the ground. Everything felt heavy, as if he was tied to the ground with stones. On his back he stayed, and when he looked up again something came into focus.

A long, hairy face, with three horns and big green eyes.

"Dubin," said Taxi, through a dry throat that felt as if he had been gargling gravel. "You got out. Good for you."

Now he realized that he had forgotten all about Dubin when he had panicked and ran away, no doubt leaving him behind in the fog to watch his home go to pieces beneath a giant fish. Taxi didn't think about the creature at all as he ran for his life, not caring if the fish had raised its deformed head and eaten the unicorn-thing in one bite. But now that everything was somewhat peaceful, he couldn't help but feel grateful to see him alive and well.

Dubin, who wore a tired and haggard expression, lowered his head closer to Taxi and said, "You escaped from the Lort."

"Lort?" said Taxi, unsure that he was even saying the word right. He wanted to shake his head, but his neck felt swollen. He thought about how he would walk around town with his body the way it was, like a piece of stretched leather left out int the sun too long.

"The beast that crushed my house," said Dubin.

"Yeah," said Taxi, with a hint of delirium in his tone. His head was still swimming, adrenaline wearing thin in his blood. "I remember, I was there."

"I am surprised that you are still alive," Dubin said, lifting his head and looking back in the direction of the swamp. There was another roar, softer and less threatening then the ones before it. "I have seen things much faster than you taken into the water in an instant, and you have survived."

Taxi tried to laugh, but instead he went into another coughing fit like before.

"I'm just that lucky," he said after catching his breath again, then his head fell sideways and his eyes looked out into the forest, lost in mist.

"Take hold of my horns," said Dubin as he lowered his head once again and pointed his horns towards the ground.

Taxi tried to move, turning his head back over and making a grab for Dubin, but after a moment of reaching he groaned and his arm fell lifelessly to the mossy forest floor.

"No good," he said, and closed his eyes again. "I can't move."

Dubin sighed and raised his head back up, bending his neck back and forth to crack a few bones. "Alright then, stay still," he said, and then the creature dipped his body down and bent his thick front legs. Bringing himself down to Taxi's level, Dubin dug his horns into the dirt and slid them beneath his body.

"What are you doing?" Taxi asked, but he heard no answer as he felt his back being lifted up. Something sharp gently ran across the skin beneath him, and then he suddenly felt his body rising up. He couldn't react to it, since it hurt too much to move even the smallest muscle, but he gave a shout of surprise when his entire body flipped over and he was on his stomach. He opened his eyes and looked down, and from up where he was he could see the ground, his hooves dangling limply.

Taxi could feel a heartbeat, deep and thick, and the rising and falling of lungs taking in breath. He could smell a strong body odor, but it wasn't too overwhelming.

He had been raised up onto Dubin's back like a sack of flower, and he said again, "What are you doing?"

"Which way do I travel to go to..." He took a second to try and remember the next word. "Poniveel?"

"Why?" said Taxi, shaking his head just slightly.

"I am taking you back there, away from here."

Taxi tried his best to think on how to get back to town, without the aid of any kind of compass. Before he had started the trip, he made a mental note on which way the sun had been setting, trying to use it as a marker. The sun had been setting, he remembered, to his left, so that would mean that he had been travelling North this whole time, if not deviating from the path ever so slightly.

Taxi wanted to look up to the sky, but when he tried to lift his head his neck was ablaze with burning pain, and he hissed as his muscled defied him.

"Okay," said Taxi, "okay, okay. Which way is the sun rising? Just turn to it."

Dubin nodded and only turned his head, noting where the sky was the most bright, and said, "I believe the sun is rising from the East, as always."

"You know your directions?" said Taxi, almost surprised.

"Yes," said Dubin. "I know North, West, South, and East. I also know that the sun always rises in the East and sets in the West."

Taxi felt like an idiot for underestimating the creature, thinking that he would barely even know the basic lay of the land, let alone know the directions on a compass. He had assumed that since Dubin was just some hermit living out in the swamps by himself, he would be mentally inferior somehow. Instead, it seemed that he was just incredibly ignorant instead.

"How do you know that?" asked Taxi.

"I once had a compass," said Dubin. "I found it in the moss, but I lost it somewhere in the deep trees, and I never found it again."

"That's too bad," said Taxi, closing his eyes again. "Town's South of here, then. Just keep going, and you'll see it. If you can find an old path, that would be better."

Dubin nodded wordlessly, and then started walking with the stallion on his back, much like Taxi's own saddle bag.

Taxi felt his body rise and fall with each step, and at the same time he could could feel sleep coming to take him once again. His thoughts went back to Ponyville for just a brief moment, about his future job and Savory Summers, before he closed his eyes and drifted off.

"Sooo," Pinkie Pie went on, as she hopped alongside her friends, "There was this super nice pony that came into the shop really early, and I mean really early, right after Mr. Cakes unlocked the door and flipped the sign from closed to open. I was the first one awake, as usual, but I don't get to open the door, because Mr. and Mrs. Cakes both say that only the owners get the duty of being able to handles the keys to the shop unless there's an emergency, like with the baby's or something.

"So, this customer comes in, and he's got this HUGE order for this super splendiferous cake that he wanted for his daughter's birthday because, he said, it was a very special day for her, so he wanted a very special cake for just the occasion. So Mrs. Cakes ran off into the kitchen to get everything ready to bake a great big cake, one of the biggest that she's ever baked, and I was standing over by the counter drinking some morning punch, when the customer's daughter walks into the shop! She was just a little filly, but she walked over to her daddy and pulled on his tail, and when he turned around, you'll never guess what she said!"

Twilight Sparkle had been listening to bits and pieces of the conversation, while her mind wondered to other places. She was mostly rethinking the letter that the Princess had sent her this afternoon, and how to handle the situation. Showing up on her own wouldn't be a problem, since she had Spike to take care of the house while she was away for whatever amount of time was needed. But it was the unknowing that bothered her, about something that the Princess had never told her about. She felt honored to be bestowed the knowledge of a royal secret, but there was still that doubt. There was even an element of suspense to the whole thing, and suspense had always been a killer for her.

Now her hearing zeroed in on Pinkie's story, and she replied absentmindedly, "What did she say?"

Pinkie grinned and continued her story. "She looked up at him and said, 'Daddy, how many times do I have to tell you? My birthday's not for another two months.' It was so cute, and the daddy turned around and gave Mr. Cakes a look that said he was so embarrassed. 'Gosh,' he said, 'I'm sorry, I just keep forgetting.' The whole thing was so funny that I just burst out laughing, and then everypony was laughing with me!"

Rarity, who had been listening in and out to the whole thing, started giggling herself. "That actually is cute," she said.

"Yep," said Pinkie, "and that's how my morning went, before I went out for the day, and that's when I bumped into you, Rarity."

"Yes, I remember," said Rarity, "you did literally bump into me, though, and I had to keep myself from falling over."

"I said I was sorry," said Pinkie, frowning.

"I know you are, darling, and I forgive you," said Rarity.

"Aw, really?" said Pinkie, leaning her head as she hopped.

"Of course, Pinkie," said Rarity, "but I do wish you wouldn't always run into me whenever we see each other. Sometimes it seems like you're actually trying to hit me."

"But I'm not," said Pinkie, confused.

Rarity sighed and said, "Nevermind, Pinkie."

Her attention went to Twilight now, who had been mostly quiet since they all left the Library. Spike had fallen asleep sitting on her back and his head rested against her neck, lightly snoring.

"Twilight," Rarity said, "is something wrong?"

Lost in her thoughts, Twilight had been looking straight ahead and never turned her gaze away from the path ahead, almost as if she was trying to find an answer to riddles she just couldn't decipher by concentrating on her walk. Rarity's voice broke her bubble of introspection, and for a second she looked as though she didn't quite know where she was.

"Did you say something?" said Twilight.

"Yes, I did," said Rarity, a voice of concern. "I said that you still look troubled by this whole matter. You've barely said a word since we left the library, and you've just been staring off into space.

Twilight looked around once more, and noticed that they were in Ponyville park, the stone fountain just ahead. Ponies of all ages were playing and picnicking, parents with their children or their friends enjoying their beautiful morning. She found it queer that she didn't know exactly where she was until now, not paying attention to her surroundings in the least.

Twilight sighed and said, "I guess there's no hiding it; that letter has me thinking all sorts of nonsense."

Rarity tilted her head sideways as they passed a park bench, somepony having fallen asleep on top and curled up underneath her wings with a shopping bag sitting next to her.

"I knew it had something to do with that," she said, looking to Twilight. "What is it, exactly? The responsibility? Or not knowing what it is?"

"I think it's a little bit of both," said Twilight.

"Well, there's no sense in grieving over it," said Rarity. "You should feel honored about such a privilege. Going around in secret, doing research, investigating some kind of mystery that the Princess herself has been toying with for years. Knowing you, I thought that you'd be so eager to get started that you couldn't contain your excitement."

Twilight shook her head and said, "Hey, I am excited. But at the same time... I can't put my hoof on it, but there's just something else about the whole thing that has me thinking. If I knew what it was, don't you think I would tell you outright?"

"Well, of course I do, darling," said Rarity. "I just wish you did."

"I do, too, Rarity," said Twilight apologetically.

Pinkie Pie, still hopping after her story had ended moments ago, spoke up now, "Why not just write her back tonight and ask what's going on?"

Twilight's brow raised, and she felt a sensation like a brick hitting her in the head.

"That's a great idea, Pinkie," said Twilight in a cheerful way.

Rarity, looking confused, said, "My, Pinkie, that was actually..."

"Helpful?" said Pinkie, finishing Rarity's sentence for her when she trailed off. "You're welcome!" And then she was quiet again, accept for a tune she started to hum to herself.

"That's what I'll do," said Twilight, smiling now. "I'll just write her back tonight, and ask for a few details before we start, which she'll no doubt indulge me a little bit."

"There you are," said Rarity, smiling. "You shouldn't think on it so much. Just save your questions for tonight, and the next thing you know you'll be with the Princess in her lab or whatever, doing your thing."

"Wow, Rarity," said Twilight, sarcastically, "that's very insightful of you."

"Hey, I'm just a fashionista," Rarity said as she shook her head, "not a scientist. That's your department."

Spike suddenly stirred from his sleep, as if waking up from a bad dream, and then he was quickly sitting upright and snorting and coughing. You would almost get the same result from dumping water on somepony. "Are we there already?" he said to nopony in particular, and then he looked around and noticed that they were in the park.

"Nope!" said Pinkie Pie. "Still walking!"

"Aw man, how long was I out?" said Spike, scratching his head.

"Not long, Spike," said Twilight. "We're almost there, though."

Spike gently squeezed his nose, still wrapped in a roll of bandages that were stained with the blue gel that he had rubbed there. "It's kind of hard to breath with this thing on, when can I take it off?"

"When your nose heals," Twilight answered, "which should be in the next few hours."

Spike groaned with unmistakable discomfort and took a look around the park. Summer was still in a mighty swing, though the heat seemed to be more lenient than last year's sweltering temperatures. Even in the broad sunlight, he felt a degree of relaxation wash over him, and there was no better place to be than there on Twilight's soft, cushioned back.

"Huh, I really didn't noticed how nice today was until now," said Spike.

"And it will be for the next three days," a boyish voice said from behind him. There was style in the tone, like a feeling of overflowing confidence.

"Well, I don't know about that," Spike began to answer, before he realized exactly who it was that had spoken. Twilight beat him to the punch, however, turning about and facing two pegasi, one blue and one a bright yellow.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash," said Twilight and Pinkie Pie in almost perfect unison, while Spike scooted himself off of Twilight's back and stepped down onto the dirt.

"Hey, guys," said Dash with enthusiasm in her voice. She was flying just from the ground, as she always did. Standing next to her was Fluttershy, smiling her shy smile. That smile was one of her most distinguishing features, and even with an off-putting personality it was one of the many things that helped her to be attractive.

"Fluttershy, you're here, too?" said Rarity had stepped closer to give her friend a proper greeting. Fluttershy, meanwhile, took a few steps for the same reason. Then the two ponies rose up on their rear legs and embraced each other in a friendly hug.

"I was going to the market," said Fluttershy as she returned to all fours, "when I... ran into Rainbow Dash, and she decided to come along."

"You mean when I swooped down from the sky like a lightning bolt, and scared you so stiff that you were on your back and trembling?" Dash exclaimed, trying to conceal a grin. Pinkie Pie, on the other hand, did not bother to hide her amusement, and then she was giggling at the idea of Fluttershy behaving like a fainting goat when she was scared, something that was just too funny to ignore.

Fluttershy's cheeks grew a hot pink as her friend embarrassed her. "Yes, when that happened," she said, trying to sound as though she still wasn't irritated by the prank.

"This is actually a stroke of good luck," said Twilight, who's eyes were passing between the two pegasi standing opposite of and the others. "I was planning on paying a visit to you both today. I've got some news."

"Oh, I hope nothing's wrong," said Fluttershy, whose pouting eyes glimmered when she turned her head towards the sun. "Did something bad happen? Are you being sent back to Canterlot?"

Rarity looked to the pegasus with a frown and said, "Really, Fluttershy, must you always jump to such negative conclusions? It's not good for you." Fluttershy just turned her head and looked to the ground with all the characteristics of guilt.

Twilight's ears dipped and she shook her head. "No, no no," she said. "It's nothing like that. This is good news."

"Good news is always good news," said Rainbow Dash, folding up her wings and touching down on the ground. "But I'm gonna take a guess and say that it has something to do with the Princess, right?"

Twilight smirked and exchanged a look with her friends behind her. Pinkie, Rarity and Spike all gave her a similar look mirroring her own, and then she turned back to the pegasi, who both seemed eager to hear what she had to say. "Something like that," she said, then she began to tell them about the letter she had received that morning.

Taxi felt dizzy when he opened his eyes, with a belly full of blackness and his head full of rocks. The unwavering pain still hadn't taken any kind of break from driving spikes into his nerves, and his jaw felt strange as it jutted forward and ground his molars together. He found himself still staring down at the ground, bits of sweat-soaked hair, long since dried dangling and brittle, in his vision. All while he rested on the back of a massive unicorn-thing.

There was maybe a few seconds of a blank memory before the gears shook off their newly-formed cobwebs and started turning. He remembered how he had been lifted onto the beast's back like such luggage, and the words of assurance were replaying in his head like a written note that could talk. He was being taken back to Ponyville, Dubin had said, and when he raised his head to once again get his bearings, he could see that the beast meant his word.

The mangled and dying trees with sparse burned-looking leaves had been replaced by lush, healthy trees with hundreds of lively arrowheads of green and blue on each limb. The spongy, mossy forest floor was a like a grand carpet of tall green grass, while the bushes that had resembled tall tumble weeds were now long, fat bushels of shrubs that grew wild and were infested with all sorts of vines and weeds.

Birds were singing sweet nothings in every which direction, filling the air with the unmistakable sounds of tranquility.

The sudden change in the ecosystem seemed foreign to his eyes, just as it had the first time. It had been enough to make his head spin the first time, seeming like some kind of magic trick--now you see it, now you don't--that made him question the validity of what his eyes were trying to show him. Now witnessing the process in reverse, there was still some doubt about what he was seeing.

There was an idea that the entire thing had been a dream. It was the kind of thing that somepony's mind invented when they were in denial, or looking for something that made more sense than the reality of the situation: something that they could live with.

But it was all real. There was no lying to himself about any of what had taken place this morning. There was no point, and the realist in him would break down and crumble if he ever let such nonsense take shape in his rational mindset.

If anything, the six-foot-tall beast that looked like a pony was all the proof that he needed to reassure himself.

Taxi took in some air, and found it easier to breath now after the rest. His chest still hurt when it rose as his lungs expanded, and laying on his stomach was certainly not helping, but his lungs weren't on fire anymore, and that was a blessing.

"Dubin," he said, quietly at first. The creature didn't answer, maybe not hearing him with such a low voice. He turned to his left and saw the creature's head facing forward, not knowing that his passenger was finally conscious.

"Dubin," Taxi said again, with a bit more authority.

The unicorn-thing turned his head sideways and looked at Taxi with one eye.

"Tack-see," said Dubin, "you are awake." There was a sort of absentminded tone in the way that he spoke, as if he was distracted. Taxi didn't care; he had his own mind and body to worry about.

"Yeah," said Taxi, and tried to raise his hoof once again to check the time. The glass on his watch was stained with a thin layer of mud that had dried over the surface. Thinking quickly, he ran his tongue over the glass two or three times, then spit out whatever dirt and filth that was in the mud. His mouth was incredibly dry, but he was able to muster enough fluids to help clean his watch, and now he could see where the hands pointed. It was seven twenty-two.

Now that just doesn't make any sense.

It had taken him seven hours--two of which he had spent in the strange swampland--to walk from Ponyville to the bog in a single night. Not to mention, it was well into the early dawn hours when he had finally disposed of the wagon. And now they were back in the more hospitable part of Everfree, a negative version of the dark and foreboding forest he had seen just hours ago. That would mean that what had taken him all night to do, Dubin had done in what he could only guess was a little less than an hour.

"Dubin, how long have you been walking?" said Taxi.

Dubin remained silent at the question, until he said, "I do not know."

"Well, have you just been walking?" said Taxi. He could feel the embers of frustration rekindling, but he found the patience quickly enough. "You haven't been running, or something?"

"Not just walking," said Dubin, shaking his head. "I have been moving, as well."

Taxi sighed, thinking about how he had never had this much trouble trying to talk to somepony. Even a child was easier to coerce into giving straight answers than the unicorn-thing. "Of course you've been moving," he said. "If you weren't moving, you'd be stuck in the same spot."

"You do not understand me," said Dubin, "I do not mean just moving. Moving is the only word I know to tell you."

"You're not making any sense, Dubin," said Taxi. He could feel what had been simple curiosity turning into a line of questioning that only led to more questioning, which in turn led to confusion.

"It is something that I can do. I think about what is ahead of me, I close my eyes, and I focus on my horn. Then I open my eyes, and I am standing in the place I was thinking of."

"Dubin," said Taxi, putting the pieces together from the simple description. "That's called teleportation. It's a simple unicorn spell, not hard to learn."

Dubin drooped his ears at hearing this, almost as if it was unpleasant. "You are speaking words that I do not know. Yooneecorn, spell, tel'portachion... I feel strange about this place, as well. It is so different than home."

Taxi could feel sympathy, as rare as it was cold, towards the beast. As ignorant as Dubin was, he knew that this place, lively and vibrant, was not his home. It was something to be expected from somepony who had lived in such a desolate and diseased place. But it was all he knew, and an old saying came to mind. Home is where the heart is.

"Dubin, stop for a second," said Taxi.

"Why?" said Dubin, promptly stopping in place and standing still.

"I want to try and walk," Taxi said, and then he was pushing himself off of Dubin's back, while the beast stood perfectly still. Slowly he slid backward, his legs dangling until he could feel solid ground beneath his hooves. He could feel popping and burning all over, some in places he didn't even know he could hurt. Keeping his front hooves on Dubin's back, he let go when he was standing on twos and tried to drop down on fours.

As soon as he hit the ground, there was a slight snap and his leg bent sideways. He grunted as he went down to his front knees while his back end was still up, looking like he was bending over.

"Damn it," he said through gritted teeth, and forced himself back up on wobbling legs. He felt like a newborn colt, without the ability to even keep his legs straight. His body continued to try and betray him, his weight almost getting the best of him as his knee shot forward in an attempt to ground him once again, but he kept himself upright with what strength he had managed to build up while resting.

Taxi took a step on a hoof that felt full of broken glass. Then another, and another. Once again he was in the full swing of things, even though his muscles were so worn and tense that they felt swollen.

He looked up now and saw that Dubin had been watching him carefully. It was a bit annoying.

"Okay, I can walk," said Taxi, and taking a quick look at the sky, he found South and turned that way. "Thanks for carrying me. I can make it back to town on my own."

He felt that exchanging anymore words with Dubin would be pointless, and he preferred to leave things the way they were: On a low note. Dubin would go back to the swamp, deal with the fish monster swimming around in there, and then the creature's life would go back to normal. It would be back to Ponyville for him, to start his real first day on the way to adapting to his new life in the small rural town.

He took his first few steps South with a new determined attitude that almost took his mind off of his body, which right now felt like so much pulled taffy. But he had only walked for maybe a few seconds when he heard the sounds of an echo, a hooffall for each of his own. He already had an idea of why there was an echo, and when he stopped and turned around he was not in the least bit surprised to see that Dubin had been following him in his own hoofsteps.

The unicorn-thing was looking straight at him, his large green eyes glaring hard enough to cut through flesh like a scalpel, and still he wore a very familiar frown, one that seemed almost perpetual since the moment the two met.

"What do you think you're doing?" said Taxi.

"I am following you to Poniveel," Dubin answered, bluntly.

Taxi licked his lips, and prepared for what could be trouble. Like running full speed into a brick wall.

"No, you're not, Dubin. You're going back to the bog."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't follow me, Dubin," said Taxi, the volume of his voice starting to rise. "Go back home."

"I don't have a home," said Dubin, a mix of sadness and anger present in the very top of his tone. "Not anymore."

"That's bullshit, just turn around and go back."

"I can't--"

"I'm sure that you can just rebuild that old shack again, just try it."

"I can't go back!" Dubin yelled through his sharp teeth. The woods carried off the end of his last word far away and threw it back as only a fraction of the real thing.

"Why the hell not?!" Taxi threw back, in a tone that was as loud as it was terrible, and completely devoid of any shred of patience.

"It is no longer my home."

"Because of the fucking fish thing? So fucking what! It won't kill you."

"That is not the problem."

"Just deal with it, try luring it away or some shit."

"That is not the problem!"

Taxi felt something swimming in him, like an electric eel, begging to give a jolt and make him do something he would regret. But the creature had done nothing to deserve this kind of wrath. His face was turning red, but he still attempted to compose himself. He couldn't go back to town until he had convinced the unicorn-thing to stay away.

To keep him from spreading word about the body.

"Okay, Dubin," said Taxi, more mildly than before, "What is the problem?"

"You still do not understand what is wrong?" said Dubin, who lowered his own voice to match Taxi's.

"No, for fuck sake, I do not understand what is wrong."

"I told you before, all of the food is gone."

Taxi thought back on it, and indeed he did recall Dubin shouting something in anger at him, about all the food being taken away, right before the half-a-ton fish monster came tearing through the dock and the shack like a bulldozer. "I remember, yeah," he said. "You did say that, but what do you mean? What do you eat?"

"Flesh," Dubin answered, plainly.

"Flesh?" said Taxi, perplexed. "Did you just say that you're a meat-eater?"

"Meat, yes."

Taxi was almost afraid to ask, but did anyway, "What kind of meat?"

"The only living thing that I could eat was fish."

Taxi nodded in agreement, but inside there was relief. The word flesh had set off a little red flag in his head, since he had never heard of a meat-eating pony, not even out in the country where the rules back home didn't apply. Even back in the city, there were very few people who would eat chickens, and they hid it well from their neighbors. Suddenly, it made more sense why Dubin had such sharp teeth. Carnivore teeth.

"You eat fish, right?" said Taxi, trying to work an understanding between the two of them.

"No, I eat flesh. The fish was all I could eat."

Taxi shook his head, and said, "I don't understand what you're saying, you could only eat the fish?"

"Yes, just the fish."

"I saw a bunch of other critters running around out there, why not eat them?"

Dubin sighed and shook his head, then he turned himself around, looking back to the North. No doubt he was looking towards the swamp.

"Because all the things are poisoned."

"Poisoned," Taxi repeated to himself. The word fit perfectly with everything he had seen when he wandered into the swamp. The deformed wildlife and the dying land was like an oil painting in his memory, with obscure and grotesque colors used to paint it, and that word seemed to make a perfect label to put at the bottom like a plaque. Poisoned.

"You saw it all," said Dubin. "I have lived there for a very long time, but I know that to you it was very strange." He looked up to the treetops now, his back to Taxi. "Very much like how I feel about this new place."

Taxi could relate, on an almost personal level, to what Dubin was trying to express. A feeling of being far away from home, in a place that seemed so strange that it was almost scary. Having something in common with the beast did not help him to feel any better about what he was planning to do.

"Yeah, I saw some things," said Taxi. "Bloated parasprites, three-headed snakes. There was some weird noises, too."

"All of it is poison," said Dubin.

"How do you know?"

"Several times I have eaten something that looked strange. I was coughing it back up for two days each time, from front and behind."

Taxi could imagine the sight. A pony who had just eaten something so spoiled that for the next two days they were doing nothing but puking and shitting uncontrollably every hour on the hour. Every time they stood up, they had to sit right back down, or just keep rolling around on the ground with their hooves pressed to their stomach. For a brief moment, he wondered if Dubin had some kind of toxicity level to his blood himself.

"What's you're point?" said Taxi.

"I lived where I lived for a special reason."

Taxi thought on it for a second, putting two and two together, and said, "The fish weren't poison."

"That is right," said Dubin, nodding. "The fish I took from the water was my only way to eat."

"That's what you meant when you said that the food was gone."

Dubin nodded again. "Yes, and I meant every word. "The Lort came when you brought blood to the water."

"That's bullshit," said Taxi, looking to the ground and shaking his head. "Fish can bleed, too."

"I was careful," said Dubin. "Always careful with the fish. I would catch them with my mouth and take them out of the water, eat them far away from my home. I learned after the last time the Lort came and took my home, I spent many full moons finding another."

Taxi seemed to have a fair understanding of what Dubin had been saying all this time now, and the whole thing made him feel like a complete bastard. Covering up his crimes had ruined somepony else's life. This was a first for him, and he was not too sure on how to deal with it. Hiding a body never had any kind of repercussions like this before, except that it scared the piss out of the pony that found it.

The way he saw it, the matter was just another chapter in the book of fucked-up things he had done in his life.

"I get it now," said Taxi. "You really can't go home. Because there is no home."

"Yes," said Dubin. "I am going to Poniveel. I will die without food and shelter."

Taxi's hoof was reaching back, opening the flap of his saddle bag. "You really think it's going to be that easy?" he said.

"I do. I will follow you and find a new place to live. A new place to feed."

"That might not happen," said Taxi. "People in Ponyville might be a bit... wary of somepony like you."

"I have no other choice," Dubin said, sadly.

"I guess that I don't have one, either," said Taxi, holding his pistol once again. He lined up the sights with the back of Dubin's head in a perfectly straight shot, from only five feet away. Basically, it was point-blank range, so there was hardly a chance of missing.

Even if he did miss, he had seven more bullets to spend on the massive pony. And even if the entire clip wasn't enough to drop Dubin, there was a freshly-sharpened knife in his pack. He assumed that the same sweet spots of a normal pony applied to a big thing like Dubin: the perfectly wide Adam's apple: just beyond the flank into the kidneys: between two ribs if he was lucky.

"If it means anything to you," Taxi said, halfheartedly, "I'm sorry that all of this happened."

Dubin said nothing, but he didn't turn his head around to see Taxi, either. He was completely unaware that there was a firearm aimed directly at his skull. The first bullet would be enough to kill him, hopefully. Taxi had seen some rare cases where a gunshot wound to the head would be enough to make somepony go limp, but he was still moving and talking even as a puddle of his own brains spilled from the newly opened hole in his head. A second bullet had been required.

He only wanted to fire one shot, planning to make it quick. Not because of Dubin's sake, but because he was almost sure that people in Ponyville would hear the report. There was less likely a chance of somepony to come looking if there was only one pop coming from Everfree. Maybe a mischievous colt setting off a firecracker in the morning.

"And I'm sorry that I brought all of this down on you," Taxi continued. This time, he meant his words. There would have been no need for any of this violence, if things had gone differently. Now, this strange hermit was a third party in the situation, and because of his meddling, the beast had nothing. No food, no house, and no way to live.

But he had a secret, and there was at least something that could be done about that.

"I forgive you, Tack-see," said Dubin, still facing the North. "I am sure that it was not your wish to do what you did."

Taxi nodded, bracing his arm for the recoil. "That's good," he said, "and I also want you to know, there are no hard feelings in what I'm about to do."

Taxi squinted his free eye and peered down the sights one last time with the other to line the shot up perfectly.

Shooting is like carpentry, he thought to himself, like he did each time. The same first rule applies. Measure twice, cut once.

Scootaloo was the first one to wake up in the tree house. Even though she was awake through most of the morning, she had been drifting in and out of sleep for as long as her body would allow. She slept on a special pillow that had been made for her by Sweetie Belle and her big sister Rarity. It was basically a smooth, circular cloth pillow filled with a large portion of buckwheat, but to her it was a comfortable bed that was big enough to be a bed for a filly her size.

She could already feel that her hair was a complete mess this morning. It always was whenever her sleep was restless, and last night it certainly was.

She opened her eyes and saw the floor at a sideways angle, and she tried to sit up. At first the cushion proved to be too soft for her to get any momentum. After a bit of struggling, the filly got into an upright position in her bed, and took a look around. The sun had already muscled its way into the dark tree house, even with all but one of the shutters closed. Looking through the open one, the sky was already bright and blue.

The other two Crusaders were fast asleep and snoring like fully grown ponies, as they did sometimes. Both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were sleeping on the thick carpets on the floor with blankets that barely clung to their bodies, having been kicked off sometime during the night.

Scootaloo rolled off of the pillow and got to her hoofs, shaking her head and flapping her wings to unruffle her feathers, then walked over to one of the shuttered windows and rubbed her eye. Preparing herself for the morning sun, she pushed the shutters open, and a flood of light poured into the room. She hissed as her eyes stung, and at the same time there were groans and cries of protest behind her as the other Crusaders were ripped from their slumber.

Apple Bloom was the first to make any real words. "Who turned the lights on?" she said in a daze. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Just a little longer," said Sweetie Belle next, her eyes still closed but her head sitting upright. "School's not for another hour."

"Up and at' em, girls," said Scootaloo, in a tone that was as listless as her half-asleep friends. The two of them looked at her with swollen, heavy eyes, and then Apple Bloom's head fell back to her pillow. Sweetie Belle was still sitting up, but her chin was to her chest and she breathed the steady rhythm of a snore.

Seeing that she was unsuccessful in her attempts to wake her friends, Scootaloo trotted over to the next set of shutters and pushed them open. The light didn't have as much of an impact on her like before, but to the others it was a second barrage that was as brutal as the last. Again, the both of them groaned and sat up from their beddings.

Apple Bloom was the one fully awake now, and her eyes creeped open slowly. One of her ears was bent in a funny way, so she reached up and knocked it back into shape while she moaned and groaned. "Scootaloo," she said in a low voice, "what gives? I was sleepin'."

"Apple Bloom, do you know what time it is?" said Scootaloo.

Bloom shook her head lazily, and said, "No, ah don't."

"Well, look around," said Scootaloo, trying to fix her hair without a brush. "The sun's out, the sky's blue."

Bloom reached up and felt for her bow, and noticed that it had come undone and leaned to the side. As she adjusted her hair fixture, she gave Scootaloo a look that spoke for itself and needed no voicing. So?

"Well, did you plan on sleeping all day?" said Scootaloo, satisfied that her hair was in its usual slight curl above her head.

"No," said Apple Bloom, in such an apprehensive way that it was almost funny. "I was jus' oversleepin', is all. Dudn't mean that I wanna sleep all through the day." Almost on cue, Sweetie Belle let out a snort and mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep, and this made the both of them giggle.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" said Scootaloo, "Let's get to it."

"Right," said Apple Bloom, and in an instant she was up off the floor and on her hooves. But it was not long before she turned her face and her eyes squinted, looking as though she was thinking hard on something. "Uh, get to what?"

Scootaloo opened her mouth to say something, but when nothing but half a syllable to some unknown word came out she knew that she had no idea of what to say next.

"I don't know," said Scootaloo, putting her hoof to her chin and trying to remember anything important, maybe a mental note that she made for herself before she and her friends passed out in the tree house.

There was a moment of silence between the two, when Sweetie Belle let out a loud snore that was very unbecoming of a filly. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom looked at each other, then they both smiled and nodded. Turning to their sleeping friend, the two fillies took a deep breath and shouted her name in perfect unison.

"SWEETIE BELLE, SWEETIE  BELLE, SWEETIE BELLE!" they said, with voices loud enough to make the walls of the tree house vibrate. Sweetie's eyes shot open at the first sound of her name, and in her surprise she let out a small shrill scream and bounced off of the floor onto her hooves.

"I'm awake," Sweetie said frantically, "I'm awake, I'm awake!"

"That's better," said Apple Bloom, and turned back to Scootaloo. "So, what did y'all have in mind today?"

Scootaloo darted her eyes back and forth and said, "Why are you asking me? I can't think of anything."

"Go back to sleep?" asked Sweetie Belle, rubbing whatever sand was still stuck in the corners of her heavy eyes.

Apple Bloom shook her head and walked over to the window. Peering outside, she saw that it was a really nice morning today. The air was full of the sounds of everything coming alive and shaking off the dew, the people in town making as much noise as they possibly could. She could hear the commotion in the marketplace, even though the tree house was a considerable distance away from town.

The smell of apples caught her attention like it did every morning, even when she wasn't on the farm, and she was reminded of her big sister. Applejack would without a doubt be angry with her, and the idea of the conversation that would take place when she decided to go home would be terrifying.

Applejack was not a pony to be trifled with, and only now did Apple Bloom regret not coming to her sister first with the prospect of going off to spend the night with her friends. The idea had been to just tell Granny Smith that she was planning to spend the night with Rarity and Sweetie Belle at the boutique, and even if it was a fabrication she knew that the elderly mare would agree to it9. The truth was that she wanted to be alone, away from all of the grown-ups, and Applejack might have seen things in a different way.

Well, she didn't want to be alone, not entirely. What Apple Bloom wanted was to be with her friends, with the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. There were some days when she felt that they were the only ones who truly understood her, who she could talk to on a personal level that she and her sister just didn't have. From pony to pony, it was as if she could only be honest and open with other fillies her age, and her two best friends in all of Equestria fit the bill. With grown-ups, there were always secrets, different ways of speaking and body language, and her family was of the worst offenders. There was a certain level of trust that she always wanted from everypony--her siblings included--that she only felt she had when she was with her friends.

Although she was content at the moment, there was still that guilt wiggling around inside of her like a bad itch.

"I think I know what we can do t'day," said Apple Bloom.

"Like what?" said Sweetie Belle. "Something we can do Crusader-style? Because if you have an idea, go ahead and tell us, because we haven't tried anything to get our cutie marks in days."

"Sweetie Belle's right," said Scootaloo, stepping over towards the table and looking up at her poster, a picture of Rainbow Dash in a flying pose and stylized with a trail of rainbow colors behind her splashed against a black background with stars. It was her favorite poster, next to the lightning bolt symbols that were taped about on the walls.

"We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders, after all," said Sweetie Belle. "It's our mission to find our special talents, and lately we've just been kind of lazing about."

"What for?" said Apple Bloom.

Sweetie Belle shook her head and said, "I don't really know, we just have."

Scootaloo flapped her wings and trotted back to her friends. "Well, that's no reason for us to keep being lazy," she said, smiling. "Today, we're gonna break out of our slum!"

"That's the spirit," said Sweetie Belle, nodding, then she turned to Apple Bloom. "So, what was your idea?"

Apple Bloom let out a sigh, and said, "I want to go back to Sweet Apple Acres."

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle seemed surprised, and looked at each other with identical expressions.

"Say what?" said Scootaloo.

"I don't mean that I want ta go back and stay," replied Apple Bloom, "You guys know that."

"Then why?" said Sweetie Belle.

"I just wanna go back and apologize ta my big sister."

"Did you do something wrong?" said Scootaloo, shrugging.

"Kinda," said Apple Bloom, hanging her head. "I ain't supposed to be in the tree house with y'all."

"You snuck out?" said Sweetie Belle, covering her mouth to conceal a smile.

"Not exactly," said Apple Bloom, starting to blush. "I told Granny Smith that I was gonna be stayin' with you and Rarity," pointing her hoof to Sweetie Belle now, "and instead I came here with you guys. But my sister don't know that I'm here."

"So you did sneak out," said Scootaloo, and then she and Sweetie Belle were giggling amongst themselves.

"What are y'all laughin' at?" said Apple Bloom, her face ablaze with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sweetie Belle said wryly. "It's just that you are going to be in so much trouble when Applejack finds out that." And then the both of them were laughing loudly, no longer able to contain their amusement.

"It ain't funny!" Bloom whined, and headed for the door in a huff.

Scootaloo was right behind her, and before Bloom could leave the tree house her teeth grabbed hold of her tail and held the filly back.

"Huld un, huld un!" said Scootaloo, with a mouth full of tail.

"Let go of mah tail, Scootaloo," said Apple Bloom, the sound of frustration in her voice. Her legs were still pulling her, just a few feet short of the doorway, while her tail stretched out in Scootaloo's teeth. "Y'all can stay here and laugh at me about how mad my big sister's gonna be with me."

"Hey, it's not like that at all," said Sweetie Belle, running to Bloom's side. The laughs were over. "We're not laughing at you, we're laughing with you."

"I've heard that one before," said Apple Bloom, her attempts to leave the tree house put on hold. Scootaloo let go of her tail and spit out the stray hairs still on her tongue.

"No, really," said Scootaloo, after a bit more spitting. "We can't help that it's funny."

Sweetie Belle elbowed Scootaloo in the side and said, "What this big-mouth's trying to say is, we're not going to let you go by yourself. We wanna come with you."

"You mean it?" said Apple Bloom, still unsure of her friends' intentions.

"Of course we mean it, Apple bloom," said Sweetie Belle. "We're your friends, and that means we'll stick by you through everything."

"Yeah," said Scootaloo, "and since we have nothing better to do--"

And that's when Sweetie Belle shoved her elbow into Scootaloo's ribs again, and the pegasus let out an "Oof!"

"Would you quit putting your hoof in your mouth?" said Sweetie Belle sternly, and Scootaloo only hung her head low and sucked her teeth.

"So y'all are gonna come with me to the farm?" said Apple Bloom, a smile growing on her face.

"Yep, we are," said Sweetie Belle. "We're not going to let you take on your sister by yourself."

"And besides," said Scootaloo, "we're the Cutie Mark Crusaders, so maybe we can find something to do around the farm to get out cutie marks!"

Apple Bloom nodded and said, "I'm sorry for actin' like such a mule," as she stepped outside into the sunlight and fresh air. Then she shook her head. "But I don't think there's anythin' we can do on the farm."

"Maybe something we can do along the way?" asked Scootaloo, following Apple Bloom with Sweetie Belle right behind her. The three fillies formed a perfect single-file line down the way to the ground.

"Maybe," said Sweetie Belle, "but I can't think of anything. Can we get cutie marks for racing there?"

"No, we tried that last month," said Scootaloo. "All we ended up with was a bunch of sweat, even though I was on my scooter."

"Can we find somepony with a problem and help 'em?" said Apple Bloom. "That could get us cutie marks for bein' helpful."

After a moment of thinking, the other two said, "Nah."

"Yeah, we ain't no good at bein' Cutie Mark Crusader Problem Solvers," said Apple Bloom. "We found that one out the hard way, on more than one occasion."

"Yeah," said all three of the fillies.

"Let's just get to Sweet Apple Acres first, and we'll talk more 'bout it when me and my sister get through," said Apple Bloom. Her hooves touched the soft grass, and then she turned towards town. It was going to be a warm day, and she welcomed it.

Scootaloo nodded in agreement, but before they could voice it there was a sound that broke their attention away from each other. It was far away, maybe on the other side of town, but it was loud enough for all three of the fillies to hear it clearly. It was like the pop of a cork being pulled from a bottle, but it was so much louder than the real thing. For a moment the birds stopped singing, and as the Crusaders looked towards town they could see the little dots of birds flying up into the sky in flocks.

There was an echo that spread to the hills, past the tree house and into the woods to their backs, and then silence. The racket from town came back into focus, and it was almost as if nothing had happened. The folks in Ponyville seemed to have not heard whatever it was making such a loud sound. Or, at least, only some of them heard it, and only stopped their daily routine for only a moment to guess and ponder before getting back into the fray.

"What in the world was that?" said Sweetie Belle, and before anypony could answer there was a second pop from the same direction, and it was just as loud as the first.