//------------------------------//
// Pace 
// Story: The Search in Winsome Falls 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

The four ponies walked on the stone bridge, continuing to breathe in the fresh mountain air—cool, rejuvenating, crisp. Past the hilly woodlands filled with its many plants and animals—the birds' chirping and the owls' hooting could still be heard as the sun continued to set—they finally made it to the end of the bridge.
They walked past a metal sign that read: "Pace! The Town of Expectations!"
Onward to the town they went.
Pace was a tiny town—it was roughly the size of a few acres, all of it. A stone road was its main road, it splitting off into smaller dirt roads for the rest of the area. A lot of the wooden houses there were brightly colored—white, pink, cyan, yellow, among others. These colors clashed with the mostly green and brown of the landscape around them, though they were shining even brighter because of the sun at this hour. Another forest was just a few paces ahead.
There were more than just houses, however. A park and an open field were beside each other—a few benches, a few trees, a few ponds, a few paths in the park; not a lot in the field other than grass though some ponies were having a picnic there on that typical red and white picnic mat. A pegasus was in the air right near them, showing off his aerial moves and causing those looking on to stomp the ground in ovation.
Also, there was a little store in the middle of Pace: A store that boasted its "great prices, great bargains!" with a humongous sign that was almost as big as the sign for its name. A rush of even cooler air went out of the store's door as could be seen by a pony shivering as he entered despite the jacket and beanie he was wearing.
At the sides of the roads were trees—rows and rows of trees. Some had fruit, some did not. Beautifying the town even further with their natural loveliness, the trees were the object of a little admiration—a few ponies in airy shirts and wide hats were taking pictures of them.
Among the other buildings there was a diner. It was, like the rest of the structures there in Pace, very simple in style: a one-story restaurant with slanted roof, wide windows letting anyone passing by see the full extent of the restaurant and all who were in it along with what they were doing.
Beside that was the library, judging by the sign on the wall that had a picture of an open book. Several bookshelves were outside and a few ponies were gathered there reading some of the books available.
Over there, beside the library, was a candy store—for behind the display window was a smorgasbord of candy and chocolate, but at the time—a crowd forming around them—several ponies with uniforms and shades were interviewing the poor owner of the store—he was pleading, "Please! This is my family's business, the only business we could have! Do you even know who started this in the first place, officers?"
"It doesn't matter," one of the officers said in a deep voice. "What matters is that you're breaking the law."
"But, what law am I breaking? You don't expect an average stallion like me to read all those bureaucratic, unreadable things you call 'laws'! That's what the Princesses and other royals are—"
Another officer apprehended him, buckling first his forehooves and then his hindhooves with hoofcuffs. "Keep quiet and you'll be fine, sir."
"This is all a big mistake!" the candy store owner yelled.
Watery eyes.
"I did my best to comply with every single regulation I could think of, sirs!"
"Then there must be a regulation you haven't thought of," yet another officer said. "Anyway, it's not our job to know what your crime is. It's our job to arrest and to send to the proper authorities, nothing more. Apologies for the inconvenience."
"Inconvenience?! This is more than just a mere inconvenience! I demand justice—is there somepony trying to frame me for a crime I did not commit?!"
"I don't know," the officer said. "All I know is that we've been told that you are a suspect of a major crime. Nothing more, nothing less. That's it. Can't argue with us about that, mister."
The candy store owner said not another word as he pouted—and as a tear went down his face.
Some of the officers took the pony away, walking him on the sidewalk and then across the street. The other officers walked into the candy store and scanned the interior—looking at the shelves, checking the vending machines at the back, inspecting all the items that were at the counter (including opening the cash register and inspecting the money inside).
"Uh, sirs?"
The officers inside stopped what they were doing and immediately looked at the four ponies who were now inside as well.
"What is it?" one of the officers asked. "Say it quick—we're busy with some important matters at hoof."
Watts Onion gulped. He then pulled out his medal and showed it to the officer as he approached him. "We're busy with some important matters at hoof as well. We're on your side, guys!"
"Is that how you talk to them?" Wakes Week whispered. "They look so serious.:
"I know what I'm doing!" Onion nervously whispered back, still holding the medal.
The officer leaned closer to see the medal with all its detail.
He motioned a hoof, signalling the rest of the officers inside to come over and look at the medal as well.
A few seconds of silence. Officers inspecting and examining, Watts Onion sweating a lot as he eyed the officers, Isobar standing calmly, Wakes Week a little nervous by the look on her face, and Dally News yawning as she, once again, adjusted her glasses with her magic.
"Alright," the officer finally said. "We see no evidence that this is a fraud or a counterfeit."
Onion lightened up, beaming. He turned around. "See, guys! We're going to—"
Buckled in hoofcuffs.
"What?!"
"Except for the fact that the medal is just an inch too big," the officer said as held another pair of hoofcuffs. "Whoever made that medal must've remembered everything but the size. Shame, really. You could've pulled that one off flawlessly, but—the size, mister, the size."
Isobar protected the two mares with his now open wings. "What's going on here?"
"Hey, I got my medal from Princess Luna herself!" Onion protested, yanking the medal out of the officer's hoof and showing it once again to him.
"It's going to take more than your word for us to believe that."
Onion groaned. "Who said it was too big, anyway?!"
The officer cracked a smile.
"Oh, no."
The officer pulled out a scroll and opened it with a hoof. "If you haven't checked Law Number 3481, then you don't know the specifications of that certain medal."
"B-but, what if that's outdated or something?!" Onion yelled.
"Yeah!" Wakes said, making a fist out of a hoof and threatening the officers with them. "Who said you were lawyers, huh?!"
"I don't have to be a lawyer," the officer said. "I just follow orders, and orders are orders."
"Hey, that's not how that line works!" Isobar said, still keeping the two mares safe with his open wings though he took a few steps forward. "Orders are orders unless they cause greater harm. What if 'orders are orders' leads to a whole city getting destroyed, probably because your leader did not know any better but his leader did? Anyway, you should know this by now!"
The officer's smile faded away.
He made a slight gesture to the other officers with his head.
"Uh, guys?" Isobar said, his voice trembling. "I don't think those are real—"
The officers lunged at the four.
"Help!"
Stand off—locked in a hoof-fight, Isobar and that shaded officer.
Slap of a wing, off-balance, officer knocked out.
Wing grabbed; another officer, flung Isobar across the room and over the counter.
Attacked by an umbrella.
"Take that!" Wakes Week said, brandishing the umbrella with a hoof.
Umbrella glowing purple—away it went.
"What, where did—"
A unicorn officer smiled, levitating the umbrella.
Glow changed to blue.
Pushed him down.
Levitated to the two officers holding Onion down—slapped and punched.
Dally News lunged at one of them, crashing herself and him.
Onion—out of the grasp—into a swipe and a kick and down his other captor.
Yet another officer picked up a cash register—threw it at Isobar.
Pegasus down.
Wakes Week kicked him—smashed his head with same register.
"Neutralize the—"
Officer thrown away by another kick from the mare.
Rushed to grab her umbrella.
Aimed umbrella at remaining conscious officers. "How do you like this, eh?! Afraid of some girl with an umbrella?!"
Looked at each other. Resolved anger—faces showed that.
"Send him out now," an officer said to his microphone on his coat.
His friends ran, charging at the mare.
Dally News jumped in front, levitating a cash register.
One bumped—down he went.
Other swerved, punched her.
Cash register dropped—thud; so did she.
Wakes Week gasped.
She growled.
Officer charged.
She dodged.
He stopped, smiling. "It's gonna take more than dodging to—"
"You hurt my friend!" Wakes Week yelled.
Lunged at him with the umbrella.
"Are we winning, yet?" Isobar asked, rubbing his head as he got up from behind the counter.
Onion ran—punched the last officer.
Down.
Silent. It was now silent save for the heavy breathing of the four ponies—Dally News just recovering as she struggled to get up on her four legs.
They looked around them to see the somewhat messy store they were in now. A few drinks were on the floor and so were all the cash registers. The shelves remained intact. There were a lot of officers in their dashing uniforms—all of them knocked out, unconscious.
"Good thing it wasn't the real E.U.P. Guard or something like it," Isobar commented. "They're probably a lot stronger than those...ponies in suits and bowties."
"Bowties—a peculiar choice," Dally News said, leaning closer to see one of the uniforms' bowties on one of the officers. "But, whatever fits their fancy and all that."
"I don't think any official branch of the Equestrian military has a bowtie for their soldiers," Isobar said. He looked at Onion. "You know what this means?"
Onion gulped. "That...they're not really working for the Princesses?"
"Worse than that," Dally News said, walking closer to him. "They're working for...unscrupulous forces."
Onion gasped. Then, a smile. "Then, that means that we've solved the—"
"Hold it, Watts," Isobar interrupted, holding up a hoof. "We don't even know who they're working for. They might be independent, or they might be working for a larger organization—almost certainly Flim and Flam since we're already so close to Winsome Falls."
"But, why would they raid a candy store?" Wakes Week asked. "Deforestation and candy don't seem to be related."
Onion smiled even more as he raised his own hoof. "Or, it's not related to candy at all!"
The rest of his friends were now silent, paying attention to him.
"Maybe it's the pony that they're after, not the candy!"
"Yeah, I was thinking of the same thing," Isobar said. "Just imagine—why would they steal candy to take care of the timber industry? What? Are the workers bringing their families there to, what, watch and take pictures of their work?" He ended that with a grin.
"Even regulated foresting and deforesting activities aren't very safe," Dally News continued, maintaining a serious face. "Who knows what kind of standards Flim and Flam are having over there?"
"But we're not even completely sure if Flim and Flam are even there or if there's even some kind of logging operation going on at all!"
"It's the most likely, though," Onion quipped. "Remember what I did back in Fourbeat?"
"And when you caused that bit of trouble when we thought we had to go to the train station?" Isobar pointed out.
"Eh, the past is in the past, so let's not think about it!"
Isobar's frown went away. "Let's get out of here." He pointed a wing towards the glass window walls. "We've already attracted quite the crowd."
Out there, standing on the sidewalk, were many ponies. No smiles—just open mouths of surprise and shock. Several already took a few steps back at the sight of the four looking back at them.
A pony in the crowd raised his hoof. "Uh, are you working for those guys as well?"
The four looked at each other.
"Yeah, I think we need to explain a lot to these folks," Onion said, sweating again.
Then, the four walked out of the store.
The crowd was watching them—their every move, just standing there and watching.
A cough.
Onion got his badge out as the four stood in front of those many.
"Under real Princess orders," he said, holding back a smile. "We're investigating Winsome Falls for some out-of-the-orindary stuff happening there. Any idea what's going on? Received any reports about what's going on there? Had any ponies in funny hats talk about tearing down some trees near the rainbow falls?"
"You can talk to me."
The crowd gave way to a stallion walking towards the four. He had a top hat and a curly mustache and was wearing a white bowtie over his fancy clothes of a coat and a shirt. He had a cane on his hoof, but he wasn't using it to walk—rather, he was swinging it about as if it was a toy. His voice was gruff, though it had a tender quality to it.
"I'm the mayor of Pace. I'm—"
"Good to have the mayor speak with us!" Onion said, shaking his hoof rapidly. "I'm sure that we'll settle whatever problem both of us have and then we'll get on with—"
"Ahem!"
Onion looked behind him to see a mad Isobar staring at him.
"Whoops!" Onion said, letting go of the hoof. "My bad."
The mayor brushed off the dust on his hoof. "Well, that was a pleasant introduction, even though there really wasn't any. I'm Hat Monocle," the mayor said. "Used to be mayor of one of the most pretigious areas of Equestria near Canterlot—Neighbraska—until I've grown too old to handle all its complexities. I've moved here to continue my work but at a more leisurely...pace."
Onion groaned again while Wakes Week and Dally News did their best to stifle their own laughter.
Isobar grinned. "Looks like we'll be working together nicely, mayor. Your attitude is amiable and likable!"
"Yes, compliments are lovely," Hat Monocle said, "but there are more pressing things to think about, as you have already witnessed." Here, his happy constitution gave way to a sadder, more pensive one—he turned to look at the mess inside the candy store.
"It's an open secret to all of us here in Pace since mere weeks ago: the owners of some resort over in Las Pegasus are expanding their business to nearby Winsome Falls. I would've been fine with that act and it was alright—personally, I didn't mind the more radical of our residents who told me that I should make a stand against these 'evil conponies.' I wanted to assume the best out of them—that the rumors were just rumors. But, they weren't, as you can see."
He coughed, covered his mouth.
Everypony there was watching him now.
"If that's the case," Dally News spoke up, "then why don't you just report it to a higher authority?"
"Like the Princesses?" Onion added, a little enthusiasm in his spicy smile.
Hat Monocole shook his head, dejected. "As good-intentioned the Princesses are, I know that a few ponies irritating us with their shenanigans is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things."
"But, isn't that what the courts are for?" Onion insisted, pressing his question. "They're open to any—"
"That is for them to talk about," Hat Monocle, his voice becoming gruffer. "And, we are getting off topic—I appreciate your assistance, but I have to get you back on track."
Isobar glared at his friend.
Onion nodded and took a few unsteady steps back.
"Also," the mayor went on, "I know those stallions—wicked, evil, and, top it all of, smart. With their current position, they have more than enough power to blind anypony with the heart and the will to opppose them."
"You're just letting them win if you talk about them like that," Onion said, stomping a hoof in the ground and adopting a brave pose. "We just took down their guards! I'm sure they're only a little harder than that!"
A budge on his shoulder. "That's not how it works," Dally News said.
Monocle nodded his head in a solemn fashion. "She is right. If those brothers are looking to minimize expenses, then they'll probably hire the cheapest security—not the best. Kind of sneaky as well—it gives the impression that who they're serving is weak when, in reality, they aren't."
"So what, mayor?" Onion said, raising his voice. "Are you going to let that intimidate you and all of this town into silent submission, always bowing down to every single whim and order that they give out? Will you give in to their unreasonable demands? Will you let them beat you down into a fearful state? Will you let them paralyze and traumatize you so you'll never question what they do? Behold, we four ponies are here to save you from your predicament—to free you and to liberate you from the horrible circumstances you are in and to bring you up to a better place—a better way of living! Do not let these evil ponies grab hold of your freedom and strange it! Seek to break free—and, never rest until—"
"Hey! That's from 'Daring Do and the Seven-Sided Chest'!" a voice yelled out from among the crowd. "You read that also?!"
Onion gulped.
The mayor smirked. "I like your persistence."
A sigh. A glance at the medal Onion was still holding.
"I don't see the harm in letting you take care of our problem," Hat Monocle said. "Who am I to have second thoughts about the Princess's chosen ponies, anyway? Sorry for being stubborn about it." He took off his hat. "I guess it's grown."
Onion took hold of the mayor's hoof and shook it rapidly again. "Good thing that our personal struggles are done and out!"
"Onion."
"Don't worry, Isobar!" Onion said, still shaking the Monocle's hoof. "We have lots of support!"
Isobar sighed and so did Dally News.
Wakes Week giggled.



It was now nighttime. Once again, the sky was covered in purple and blue, stars scattered in arranged patterns accompanying the brightness of the moon and its soft light and glow.
The roofs of the windows of the buildings there reflected its beams, gleaming. Out of the windows and emanating from the streetlights—more light, yellow light, illuminating the roads and the yards of the houses, the fronts of the stores and other establishments and places of activity.
Fewer ponies were outside, but that was to be expected—if one were to peer into the windows of some of the houses, one would see yet another family eating dinner together while one was passing a large bowl of soup to another, a party complete with balloons and confetti and streamers and participants who relished in the celebration with dancing and singing and laughter, a lonely and quiet stallion reading a book on his comfy easy chair by the fireside, a mare painting the wall and the floor with fresh coats of paint—and the odor of that paint wafted out of one open window and made a few ponies passing by pinch their noses and hasten their walk, hoping to be free from that apalling smell.
Inside one of the houses, the four ponies were being ushered into the bedroom by a stallion and a mare—a couple as could be seen by their matching white and yellow clothes. They were both pegasi.
"My dearie Batter Sugar was the one who thought of the idea of a guest room," the stallion said, gesturing a gentle hoof to his wife—who smiled at that.
"That's because I said, 'Cream Glaze, we're going to move to a house that's close to some amazing tourist spots. Why don't you think of them and ask for a house with an additional room just for the traveller?'"
"And, here you are," Cream Glaze said, facing the four ponies. "It's a massive honor to be hosting ponies sent by one of the Princesses."
Onion and Wakes Week trotted in.
Isobar saluted the couple in front of him with a firm wing. "Thank you for your hospitality."
Dally News nodded. "Don't you worry about us—we're going to use your room to prepare for what's ahead."
The couple nodded back. "Now, if you excuse us," Cream Glaze began, turning toward the stairs, "we have to take care of our foal—we haven't even had dinner yet, but you could blame that on the spectacle a while ago."
"You've been thinking too much about that, that's why," Batter Sugar said. "If you hadn't stopped while you were holding the groceries, we would've prepared everything before we let them in."
And, the two went down the stairs.
"But, it's pertinent that I get to see what's going on—the danger that we could've avoided by just knowing what was going on over there!"
"At the risk of starving our baby? You should know better!"
"Oh, dearie—I-I guess you're right."
And the scuffle thus ended.
Isobar looked at Dally News.
She looked back.
"Well, that went over pretty quickly," he said, smiling again. "Let's go?"
Dally News nodded, adjusting her pair of glasses yet another time before she followed Isobar inside.
The bedroom was more furnished than the one back in Fourbeat: It had carpets and rugs, full bookshelves and decorated walls of ornate designs, a large bed with an assortment of diffrent-colored pillows and blankets to choose from, lamps everywhere already on, paintings of grand landscapes and historical pony portraits in their gloomy yet assuming forms and stances, and a whiff of perfume which was the finishing touch to the bedroom.
Wakes Week was on the bed, snoring and fast asleep.
And Onion was already on the table, writing.
Isobar sighed. "You know, you should somepony else write the reports to Princess Luna from time to time."