//------------------------------// // 40.3 A Flower Forest in May // Story: Prey and a Lamb // by Lambs Prey //------------------------------// ------One Week Later------ The reaper king crashed through the last flimsy barrier of saplings, sending splinters flying through the night as it swung its massively oversized claw through the trees. A horrible orange light burned from within its metal caged pumpkin head, like a glowing blister. The stars wheeling in the clearing sky above seemed to shrink as a horrible gurgling roar rose from the split in the reaper king's chest. Why such a thing had been created to roar was beyond Prey. It had been created solely to break, to destroy, and to kill. Prey shrank back behind the boulder in the darkness, slimy moss sticking to his already filthy wool. The ravine lay behind him, with its rotted tree trunk strewn length gaping blackly in the night. He could try to cross the ravine and keep running, but even if he managed it, the reaper king had already proven it could leap the ravine. Prey was limping and wheezing horribly, he had a hoof pressed to his side, and blood trickled from any number of scratches and cuts. Beside Prey, Crimson's normally placid eyes were wide, red, and running as he grimly prepared himself for a fight they both knew he would not win, not even with the magic of his chain necklace. Blades could do nothing against this monster either. Nor would there be any flying out of this. The Border Guards were gone, who knew where. Likely dead. Lilly Blossom might be dead too, her injury had been mortal. They'd been split from Gloom and Scenic earlier somewhere in the cloying mist, separated by the kindersnatch victims. The reaper king lumbered forwards, the horrible noise still seeping from its chest and foul vapours rising from its head, as it swung itself into the clearing. Two enormous claws dug into the ground, its three stubby back legs trailing, black against the sky. Their call for help to Canterlot had gone unanswered, no response coming through the message bottle flames. There was no time to consider what that meant. "Split...up." Crimson managed to cough out, voice mangled as the reaper king crossed the the clearing in four great strides, "Sorry...Prey." "No...not...y'et." Prey managed to gasp back, eye streaming. 'Crybaby.' And then when things didn't seem like things could get any worse, an answering roar sounded in the night, a terrible rumbling shriek that made the heart seize as it ricocheted around the darkened trees. Crimson breathed, "Pony...'eathers." Prey didn't even notice the use of bad language from the pegasus, "Zoma'...'rika." ------<<>>------ A train wound its way down the far side of the Ridgeback mountain range. From high above in the cold morning sky, drifts of grey clouds hung, the sun still having yet to raise high enough to bathe them. Below, the train looked like a glinting grey caterpillar, albeit one moving at a remarkable pace, and letting out tiny puffs of white smoke, which were immediately whipped away by the wind. The train had ventured through the lowest pass of the Ridgeback range, the only route which wouldn't be buried in snow this coming winter, (the border town being too small to merit a weather team), but for now, the train was still able to make its way through, and was descending back down towards the warmer lands below. This was the only train that ran this line, and it only ran once a week, there and back. There were only two carriages behind the engine; one a passenger car, and the other a goods carriage. The goods carriage was full. The passenger car was almost empty. This latter was occupied solely by the five members of the ISND, three old, two new. They'd been travelling for twenty-hours off and on by train. This was the third, and last, train ride required before it deposited them at their final stop. After twenty hours, (with the other four spent waiting for late trains), and a long night spent in a bumpy carriage, it was quite easy to imagine that none of the ISND were in a joyous mood as the sun filtered through the curtainless train windows. Unexpectedly, you would be wrong in such assumptions. Or three-fifths wrong at any rate. Prey, Gloom and Crimson had taken the opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep. Sleeping on a train without any real beds was not what you would call comfortable or uninterrupted, but for the three of them, such minor inconveniences hardly registered. It had been an unexpected boon, what with the multitude of hours they'd missed sleeping back in Canterlot always working overtime. Or alternatively the other, unspoken and private hours each of them spent tossing and turning when pangs of guilt came calling. The other two fifths of the ISND had not had it so easy. Lilly Blossom and Scenic Paint were Canterlot ponies, born and raised. They were used to soft beds, pleasant temperatures, and regulated weather. They must've thought that boot camp had prepared them for rough sleeping. They'd thought wrong. 'Ha. They know nothing of sleeping rough. Why, this train is positively a five star hotel.' Prey thought. Scenic seemed to deal with his discomfort better than Lilly however. He'd probably spent his own fair share of sleepless nights staring sightlessly into the dark after his little identity crisis following his first patrol with the ISND. --- Back onboard the train, Gloom had gone up front to ask the locomotive drivers how soon they would be arriving. Bets were the drivers would be all too happy to tell the Sargent whatever he wanted so long as it got the thestral out of their engine room faster. No Dusk Pony amulet for this mission, not with Scenic and Lilly now included amongst their number. Scenic Paint was leaning on one hoof, eyes closed and drooling as he kept nodding off before snorting awake as the train went 'Clack'. Lilly Blossom might've been a unicorn who took exception to everything, but at the moment she looked a lot less threatening with baggy eyes and her mane a sloppy mess. Without her armour on, (which Gloom had allowed them to remove for the night), said mane was a solid light blue, and her coat a contrasting peach. Scenic Paint's nickname of Paint Spot became a lot more relevant when you saw him without his armour enchantments. He had lots of large, russet splotches in his fur, looking very reminiscent of paint splatters. Crimson was sitting up straight backed in his seat, meditating, while opposite him, comfortably squashed up into the corner, Prey rested atop his backpack. (It was better than the hard wooden seats). Prey blinked open his eyes and sat up with a stretch, giving his ears a rub to get the blood circulating again as over the noise of the train, he heard Gloom clomping back through the car. "Alright, up up up." Gloom called, reappearing, "Time to get our armour back on, use the bathroom and get ready to disembark. The driver says we'll be arriving at the end of the line in Alfalfa Dale in thirty minutes." Alfalfa Dale was the last stop on the train line, a small, slowly growing border town. The five of them would have to get off there, and walk the six or so miles to the pine forest and village of Mayflower, as they'd discovered after examining the map Prey had brought. The long hours of travel hadn't been spent solely resting, or for some of their number, trying to rest. A significant waking portion of their time had been given over to discussing their plans for when they arrived in the village and how they were going to approach the villagers. Prey had brought out the map Gloom had asked him to obtain, copied onto a square of cloth. "Why isn't this on paper?" Scenic had inquired. "Because I copied it onto cloth, obviously." Prey answered. "What's wrong with paper?" Lilly had demanded. "Nothing, nothing," Prey quickly said, "It's just that paper isn't waterproof. However if this gets wet, it'll still be fine." "Good thinking Prey. So, where are we going on this map?" Gloom had asked. If someone were to put it bluntly, there wasn't much map to go on. There were less than four small border towns over the Ridgeback, with one or two villages scattered to each. The rest of the map was either mountain or untamed land, and beyond that, the great pine forest. So aside from looking at the cluster of dots on the map and the line of the train track, there really wasn't much to see. --- There had been various other conversations held, half of them attempts to while away the long hours of travel, or get to know a bit more about one another. Mainly those conversations were initiated by either Scenic or Lilly, and it was usually only Gloom who got drawn into them. Prey did listen in though, even if he pretended he was sleeping. It had taught him a bit more about their two new tag alongs. Scenic mentioned his marefried a lot, some random pony called Carton Juice, who he was already missing, and how he was getting on well with her and her parents. He wistfully said he wished he'd brought along his latest Daring Doo book or a pack of cards for this train ride, as he was a huge fan of fantasy, board games, and miniatures. Lilly had disapproved of Scenic's wish for some cards straight away, "Cards are against regulations!" She'd recited, nose in the air. Gloom had not agreed or disagreed with either of them. Lilly also let them know a bit more about herself, whether they wanted to hear it or not. Her story was much as Prey had already guessed. Born and raised in Canterlot, youngest of three, parents held high expectations for their first born unicorn son, and Lilly Blossom had been trying to catch up to her older siblings ever since. Every set back only increased her determination that she was right and everyone else was against her, thus her complex about proving herself. By the sound of it, this attitude resulted in her having very few friends outside of work, all of which she'd cut contact with when she tried for the third time to get into the Guard. She was very disparaging of her parents in her remarks, not even naming them, something that Gloom, Crimson, and Prey all deeply disproved of, but said nothing about. Her choices were her own. Her favourite pastimes were shopping, running, and unicorn ultimate frisbee. Oh, and she played the guitar. Prey and Crimson kept quiet and shared nothing personal, despite multiple prompts from Lilly and Scenic trying to get them to engage. Gloom had offered them no assistance in their attempts either. --- "Come on, wake up team." Gloom called again, clapping his hooves together. "Huh? Wazat?" Scenic protested, chin falling off his hoof, "Oh, right. Sir yes sir." Jerkily, and with much stifled groaning on Lilly Blossom's part, the four ponies began putting on their armour. Prey didn't have to do more than check his blue ribbon was clean, in place, and straight, and he was dressed as far as he was concerned. There'd been a conversation about that last night too. During the interminable hours of the night while trying to get comfortable, Scenic Paint had privately tried asking Prey about his insistence on wearing a ribbon. It had made sense to the Earth pony back when he'd made the usual blunder in assuming Prey was a ewe, but now he was confused. "That's a...nice ribbon you're wearing Prey." Prey twirled the silken end around his hoof, "Why, how very kind of you to say so. I hadn't noticed." "Yes, very nice. Very blue. Er, did somepony give it to you?" "No, I bought it myself. Why? Don't you think it suits me?" Prey asked, beaming. "No no, it's, er, fine. But you must admit that it's a bit out of place." "It is?" Prey asked, feigning confusion. "Well, colt's and filly's...not usually something...that the other..." Behind Prey's smile and innocent eyes, his emotions were hard as he dared Scenic to go on. He wore this ribbon in defiance of how laughable he looked. It reminded him of all those other people who thought they owned him and who'd laughed. And they were all dead. 'Luna might hold my chain right now, but eventually I'll get free.' Maybe Scenic got the feeling he was paddling in dangerous waters, or more likely he just decided it was not his place to ask. '-I am not Prey's parents, I'm not having that conversation-' The memory of Scenic's discomfort and confusion brought some smug satisfaction to Prey now as they got ready to disembark. The train started to gradually slow, and Prey knew they would soon be arriving. --- The train station for Alfalfa Dale was just a short wooden platform that didn't even get a hoof of clearance off the ground. There was no ticket office or even shelter of any kind. Just the weathered plank platform. There was also no one waiting as they filed off, not even to unload the wares from the goods carriage as the trio of train operators disconnected it. To their right was the border town of Alfalfa Dale. Wood, thatched roofs, rutted and hard packed dirt roads. The only buildings which were greater than one story clustered obviously together in the center of town. A few donkeys and Earth ponies were already out and about. It was like Hay Steam, except smaller and more weathered. To be honest, Alfalfa Dale was called a town, but if it'd been within Equestrian lands proper, it wouldn't have been labelled anything but a village. The train tracks proved the town was technically part of Equestria, but it was far from the supervision of the Princess, or rather Princesses now. The inhabitants paid tax, but if it weren't for that, not even the relevant government offices would be any the wiser to their existence. To the ISND's left swept hilly stretches of tough grassland, running all the way up to the Ridgeback's lower slopes behind them. Then, sweeping down ahead of them, towards the band of dark green which seemed to monopolise the horizon. That was the great pine forest, the individual trees not visible at this distance. Prey looked up, shifting his pack on his back. The sky did not seem so bright on this side of the mountain range. It seemed...more normal, muted, honest. What Prey remembered it being. Grey clouds lazily drifted hither and thither above. The omnipresent breeze stirred his wool but didn't quite bite all the way through. Everything was just that few degrees colder over here. Prey took a deep breath, it tasted sharp, with a damp edge. 'Fifty seven years...' He thought. This wasn't the Deeper Green. But still... It felt so different yet so familiar. For a moment, one of the spines inside his twisted heart seemed to twist and he jumped. Prey quickly looked around, trying to find what had startled him. He couldn't see anything threatening or out of place. They were the only ones close by. It was probably just a bad memory then. "All ready to go?" Gloom asked. Prey glanced up. The Sargent had come over to ask him specifically, seeing his distraction. "Ready whenever you are." Prey said, shouldering his pack higher. It was going to be a long walk out of Alfalfa Dale to Mayflower. He couldn't help but glance over to check on Crimson. "So there's nothing wrong?" Gloom double checked. "No. Why? Something making you jumpy?" Prey asked. He wasn't being snippy, he was being serious. Perhaps it hadn't just been a bad memory. "Nothing. It's all clear." Gloom said, waving it off. '-Prey's too jumpy. We've barely arrived-' Prey scowled. Paranoia was healthy, damn it. But perhaps Gloom had a point. He was being rather jumpy. "Right," Gloom called, regaining the attention of the others who were stretching stiff legs and limbering up, "We're not stopping here. We'll just fill up our water canteens in town, and then it's a fifteen mile trot out to Mayflower." "Sir, yes sir." Lilly barked and immediately fell into marching line, Scenic Paint joining her. Prey, Crimson, and Gloom all looked at them. The Sargent tried not to sigh, "We're not on the parade ground. Marching fifteen miles in armour with heavy packs isn't a good idea. At ease both of you, we're just walking." --- Stepping hoof into the border town felt... wrong to Prey. Like he shouldn't be here. He remembered the three border towns which had existed back when he was still Gossamer. All three had fallen or been abandoned during the war. Straperdale had been recolonised after the war at some point during the fifty seven years, Prey knew, but that was by new families and new settlers. And it was a people which made a town. None of them remembered. Following at the back of the group, Prey saw homes, livelihoods, and people's lives. They were making their way towards the middle of town where a well or trough likely lay. No matter how ridiculous it sounded, Prey worried he would bring down disaster on this town simply by coming here. If it was a pony town, he wouldn't have cared. But it wasn't. This was beyond the border of Equestria. An old, stooped nanny goat with a patched apron swept her steps with a twig broom, not even looking up as they passed. A mule was removing the wooden shutters of his home to greet the day. A donkey opening up the town's lone convenience store, his young jenny daughter smiling as she played with a homemade ball. These weren't his people, Prey did not relate to any people for that matter. But he knew that here were real people, who worked, sweated, and toiled for their daily bread, all while outside of Celestia's sphere of protection. They had Prey's respect. Even the Earth ponies who made up about half of the waking population of Alfalfa Dale were okay in Prey's book. 'And not a unicorn in sight.' Gloom and Crimson were as at home here as they ever where anywhere, being a thestral and an exile, and just walked ahead unminding. Scenic and Lilly however were trying not to gawk like they were the yokels, and not the other way around. In their heads, they were busy marvelling at the strangeness of this all. Even Scenic who was an Earth pony didn't have any experience with this. '-they still have to use fires to heat their homes?-', Scenic thought, blinking at a chopped wood pile. From Lilly came, '-don't they know anything about hygiene? That's an outhouse! In this day and age-' And Gloom was worrying about the logistics of if; '-we miss the train in two weeks? Need to be back in Canterlot. What then?-' That was a stupid question. 'Then we'll have to wait until three weeks, won't we?' Prey thought. Much as Prey had guessed, there was indeed somewhere to fill up their canteens in the middle of the small town, although not in the form of a well. A stone post with four separate iron pumps, obviously meant to service the whole town, was set up there. There were already people starting to queue to fill up buckets for their daily water needs. This, more than anything else shocked Scenic and Lilly. '-we're really not in Canterlot anymore-' Prey secretly rolled his eyes. What did they expect? Prey had grown up without running water, just the same as many who lived beyond Equestria's borders. This right here was the norm, not what happened in Canterlot where everyone took privilege for granted. As the ISND entered the square, people quickly got out of their way, and their chosen pump's line dissolved leaving them a clear path. Gloom sighed, but didn't waste time protesting their unfair treatment and began filling up his canteen. No matter what he said, they would not be making any friends here today, and they weren't going to be stopping in Alfalfa Dale at any rate. They were just passing through. It would be far politer to simply fill up and get out of the townspeople's way, who were being rightfully wary of four strange ponies in armour, one of whom was a thestral, a species which most here had probably never even heard of. Oh, and there was Prey too of course, but he was hardly threatening, now was he? However one person was brave enough to talk to them, or perhaps just curious. "You lot Guards?" Someone demanded. Gloom stopped screwing his second canteen closed and turned to see who had addressed them. A tall, middle aged donkey, a heavily stained tool belt across his chest, was regarding the ISND critically. "Good morning. Yes, we are the Night Guard. I am First Sargent Gloom." Gloom politely greeted the donkey. The donkey grunted, looking them over, "You staying here long?" He asked, not returning Gloom's introduction. "No, we're just passing through in fact. We'll be out of everyponies way soon." The donkey snorted at that, '-he says everypony? Ha-' He nodded at each of them, even Prey, "You here for Mayflower then?" He challenged. "Yes, we are indeed here to look into that." Gloom said. The jack grunted, "About bucking time. Nothin' ever got done last time you lot came by though." His words were rude, but the watching townsfolk seemed to ease up slightly at the news they were here to try and find the missing villagers and weren't here to stay in Alfalfa Dale. "Rest assured that we'll do our best." Gloom said confidently, even if he was thinking: '-but I don't hold much hope. After three months and nothing new, what can we really accomplish?-' "I have relatives in Mayflower. You'd better find them." The donkey said gruffly, turning and trotting away now that he'd had the last word. Lilly Blossom was outraged, glaring at the departing donkey's back. But since Gloom wasn't reacting she was forced to bottle her temper. Scenic himself was shocked at the perceived level of hostility around them, thinking it much more serious than it really was, so unused to it was he. '-this isn't how the Royal Guard is treated in Canterlot at all-', Scenic thought. 'Just wait until you've spent a few weeks in the ISND, by then you'll hardly even notice it anymore.' Prey thought, stepping up when it was his turn at the pump, which Crimson helpfully worked for him while he held his canteens underneath the spout. He still kept a watchful eye on the townsfolk as they got on with filling their own water containers, but he didn't feel afraid. He felt this should be familiar, even though he'd never been here before. Prey was always afraid of one thing or another, and he lived with fear every single day. But right here and right now, he didn't feel more than his usual caution. Strange. This was a new situation, he should be far more tense than he currently was. It was just he couldn't help but feel that whatever there was to fear, it wasn't here in Alfalfa Dale. It was out there. This was the border. These weren't the tame lands of ponykind. Here monsters roamed, and people had to be watchful if they wanted to survive. Prey capped his canteen and stepped back from the pump. Whatever. This was all biased paranoid introspection based off memories which were outdated. He put his musings aside and his canteens away, and switched places with Crimson on the pump handle. --- The road to Mayflower wasn't a road per se. It was more of a track which wound its way towards the distant pine forest, following the path of least resistance over the uneven ground. It was obviously a path upon which hooves infrequently trod. Grass and bush roots still tried to lay claim to the strip of path as they plodded out of town. They settled in for a long walk. Fifteen miles, it should only take them about three hours at this sedate pace. Prey walked at the rear, both because it allowed him to stay away from Lilly Blossom, and also because it allowed him to look around unobserved. And that's exactly what he did, watching anything and everything across the open land. Scenic and Lilly Blossom may be chatting up front, but Prey was completely absorbed by trying to take everything in. He felt like he'd been missing something for fifty-seven years and now was his long lost chance to reclaim it. He didn't want to miss anything. He saw a hawk drop out of the sky. He waited for it to take off again, and when it didn't, he knew its hunt had been successful. A little latter he saw what the hawk might've been hunting. The knotted ground and holes of a rabbit warren, almost invisible amid the tough grasses and bracken. The twitchy nosed rabbits themselves were nowhere to be seen, too smart to emerge until the hooved intruders were gone. Prey knew the rabbits could feel the vibrations of your steps through the earth. But not the change in air currents as you dived down upon them. That fact was something Garrow had known. The ground of the path was firm, trodden down, but if you took half a step to either side, you could feel the loamy earth under your hoof. Prey saw a patch of pale yellow mushrooms growing in the lee of an overgrown hunk of slate, and had to step aside to pick the hoof full of available caps. "Prey, keep up. What are you doing?" Gloom called. "Nothing. Just...grabbing some stuff." Prey called back, hurriedly wrapping the mushrooms in a fold of cloth and tucking them away. "What stuff?" "Just some mushrooms." Gloom half turned back, the head of his short spear showing over his shoulder, "Careful. Mushrooms can be seriously poisonous. Do you know how to identify them?" "Yes, I know what I'm doing." Prey answered, rejoining the path. "Alright then." Gloom shrugged, taking Prey at his word. Lilly didn't look like she could believe Gloom's negligence in allowing a child under his care to just go about picking wild mushrooms, "Sir, permission to speak freely-" "-If Prey says he knows what mushrooms he's picking, then he knows." Gloom preempted her. "Sir, but a foal cannot reasonably be expected to make informed decisions like that sir." "Did you know Prey grew up in a border town, on this very side of the Ridgeback mountain range? His family works a farm." Gloom told Lilly lightly. "As such, I am far more inclined to trust his judgement over what is poisonous and what is not than you, Private." Lilly obviously hadn't thought of that, and her jaw snapped shut. Prey got to listen in on her internally berating herself for opening her mouth without thinking. '-I need him to approve my promotion, and I can't get one if somepony keeps making me look bad-' 'The only one making you look foolish is yourself.' Prey thought, cautiously falling back another couple of steps to put some more distance between him and the unicorn. --- The sun crested the mountains of the snowcapped Ridgeback, the yellow orb looking oddly muted amid the far off peeks. The walk was going fine, with Alfalfa Dale and its outer farms having disappeared from view. Scenic had commented at one point how strange it was they hadn't met anypony from Mayflower coming the other way. Crimson had inquired bluntly why on Equestria Scenic thought they would? It was a small village, with busy farm life all day, everyday. It was unlikely anyone would leave Mayflower unless they were travelling to Alfalfa Dale for market day. Even more so with fifteen less ponies to help keep the farms running. Prey was on the look out for any further herbs or plants which might be useful, but didn't spy anything special amid the tough grass and scrag. The likelihood of finding much outside the forest itself was remote, but not impossible. And Prey would prefer not to enter the forest at all. The trees sat, large dark and foreboding ahead of them, slowly growing bigger as they approached. At that size, Prey knew the forest could support an almost limitless variety of monsters. Luckily, they intended to stay in or close to the village only. At about the halfway mark, Gloom called a halt for a short break. Prey's hooves were only mildly sore, but from the way Lilly groaned and slumped down, you'd have thought they'd just done forty miles, not eight. Prey gave the bulky back pack Lilly had overloaded an appraising look. The idiot mare hadn't even packed it properly to distribute the weight, and the straps were way too loose. So far, no one had seen fit to point out to Lilly her mistake. Gloom and Crimson were content to let Lilly suffer and learn from her mistake, while Prey was just content to let her suffer. Scenic Paint seemed to have gotten his back pack right more by luck than any skill, and so was completely unawares of how to help. With a sigh, Gloom decided to finally; '-take pity on her-' "Lilly Blossom, here, let me give you some pointers about your pack." Gloom said. Lilly's first thought was, unsurprisingly; '-I don't need help, there's nothing wrong with my bag-', And Prey even saw her open her mouth to automatically say so. Then she seemed to realise that no, she did not want to continue walking with her back pack the way it was, and yes, she did need help. Sourly, Lilly swallowed her pride, "Sir, thank you sir. Some pointers would be great." Gloom hid a sigh, at her stubbornness, '-she's like another Prey-' Prey was deeply offended by the notion. "Alight," Gloom said going over, "First things first, unpack and lay out everything you've got on the grass. Yes all of it. You need to wrap everything so it doesn't clank against each other. Like this, see?" While Gloom got on with instructing the reluctant Lilly Blossom and she used her magic to float everything out of her pack, Prey ate a hoofful of dried fruit. He offered some to Crimson, and none to Scenic as they sat. Scenic seemed a tiny bit put out by that, which only pleased Prey more, but the Earth pony quickly forgot it and asked them a question instead, one which Prey'd overheard him thinking about before. "Er, so you two, you didn't know each other before you joined the ISND, right?" Scenic began. "Before we 'joined', no. None of us knew anything about each other. The past is the past." Prey answered dismissively. Scenic hesitated, but kept pushing, "And Sargent Gloom said earlier you came from off a farm Prey, so..." "Yes? So what?" "Well, I'd thought you came from a different thestral clan like Crimson did. Like, er, adopted or something." Scenic said. Crimson stopped checking that his wing blades were absolutely free of any minuscule spec of dirt, "I beg your pardon? Why would you even suppose that?" "You, well, you both have the same bracelets, so I thought they were like a clan badge or something?" Scenic suggested, starting to feel really uncomfortable as they both stared him down. '-did I say something wrong?-' Prey cocked his head, "You don't sound very sure of yourself. Were you making a statement or asking a question?" "Uh, asking a question I guess?" "So you're saying you're asking about these?" Prey held up a foreleg to show off the dull gold band. "Yes, caus' I know Crimson came from one of these clans, and he's not a thestral, so I kind of assumed it was the same for you." Scenic said, scratching at his helmet plume. "So you're not asking about these, but where they come from?" Prey asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes. Wait, no, sort of." "So you want to know how and where we got them now?" "Yes?" "Are you asking if you're saying yes, or are you actually saying yes?" "...Maybe?" Scenic replied, thoroughly confused by now. "Stop confusing him on purpose Prey," Crimson said, tightly refolding his wing, "And no Paint Spot, these gold bands do not come from any clans. And I am most certainly not adopted." "No? I just thought, since you wear them all the time... Never mind, sorry, my bad. I was mistaken." Scenic mumbled. Prey flicked another slice of dried apricot into his mouth, eyebrow raised at the Earth pony, "Seriously, how could you not already know any of this? Did you not think to ask around before you joined the ISND? It's not exactly a secret." "Well, no, it wasn't quite so easy as that. I just kinda' took it for granted that you guys were adopted." Scenic admitted. "Well you assumed one hundred percent wrong," Prey informed him cheerfully, "No one here was adopted. Unless there's something you're not telling us...?" "Er, no." '-but I wish I was-' Crimson considered for a long moment, examining the bands on his own forelegs, "Yes... You were merely mistaken." He said, effectively ending the conversation. The slight tension Prey had been holding left his shoulders. He never could be absolutely certain what Crimson was thinking, meaning he was never sure what Crimson would do or how to help. He'd been trying to distract Scenic from asking any more probing questions just now. Typical. The one person whose thoughts Prey couldn't read, and it was the one person in the whole world he would use that knowledge to help instead of harm. "Crimson." Gloom called, making them all look up. Gloom had finished instructing Lilly on how to correctly pack her back pack it seemed. "Yes sir?" Crimson asked, straightening up. "I had a thought. You might as well fly ahead on of us and let the villagers know we're coming." Gloom said. Prey saw Scenic Paint glanced up at the sky, muttering to himself, "Flying in this weather? I might not have wings, but still..." Of course, the Canterlot Earth pony had forgotten once again that he was in the presence of three people with great hearing. "There is nothing wrong with the weather. Why? Do you see something Scenic?" Gloom asked, squinting up at the sky for a storm cloud or something obvious he'd missed. Scenic balked, "Er, no sir. I'm sure you have a much better idea of what's safe than me. I just, I'd heard that pony's shouldn't fly in wild weather is all, sir." He shrugged. Gloom and Crimson both frowned, looked up at the grayish sky with drifting clouds, and then back at Scenic, "Wild weather? This is practically balmy." Gloom said. "Sir, but there's nopony to manage the weather here sir. I'm certain the locals haven't been keeping ahold of it." Lilly Blossom said, putting in her two misguided half-bits. Gloom smirked, "This?" He pointed up, a light breeze making the tips of his ear tufts sway, "This isn't wild weather. Back in the clans, this is what we'd take foals out in for their first flight. Wild weather is gales, cross winds, storms, tornadoes, and lightning that covers the sky. This? This is nothing." Prey knew of the torrential storms Gloom spoke of. When the wind howled so loud you couldn't hear yourself shout, the rain came in so hard it choked you, the lightning fell like the rain, and the trees cracked and splintered. That was a real storm. And if it was bad on the ground, Prey could only imagine how much worse it would be if it caught you in the sky. Scenic and Lilly decided to refrain from embarrassing themselves further and shut up. Scenic took the lesson as a reminder there was a lot he didn't know about the larger world, while Lilly took it as a personal rebuke and got angry. '-it's not my fault nopony ever told me this stuff-' "I will inform the villagers of our purpose and imminent arrival before I return, sir." Crimson said, spreading his wings. "No need to fly back. We'll meet you there." Gloom told him as he prepared to take off. "Yes sir." Crimson acknowledged, taking a short run up before leaping into the air, powerfully beating his wings for altitude, kicking up bits of grass. When Prey uncovered his eyes, he found Scenic and Lilly both cursing and trying to get dust out of their own eyes. Prey chewed his lip, glancing at the slowly dwindling pegasus shape in the sky. He would have much preferred Crimson to stay with them. Runic preparations or not, it was safer around the unicorn with Crimson present. Prey sourly wished yet again that he'd been born with the power of flight. Then trips like this which took hours would've only taken one at most, and obstacles like ravines or rivers became inconsequential. He knew for a fact that Gloom was wishing he could follow Crimson into the sky, rather than plod slowly along at ground level. '-I can't though. Got to stick with the squad-', Gloom thought with a mental equivalent of a shrug. "Come on, let's see you back on your hooves. Break's over, time to go. I want to get there before midday." Gloom called, getting them moving back on the faded path. ---<>--- Life is like pushing a paper boat out into a stream. The little boat wobbles about in the gurgling water, twirled by the current, sometimes swatted by inattentive dragonflies, but always moving ever onward. Water never flows back on itself. A stream can only ever flow one way, just like time. Sometimes obstacles get in the way, like lily pads or bulrushes, but even if the paper boat gets stuck for a time, it'll eventually bob free to float on down the stream, passing by the scenery of life. As you follow along from the grassy bank, you never can tell what your little paper boat will meet just around the next bend. ---<>--- Prey was the first to notice the returning shape of Crimson in the sky. It was perhaps the one time he could've, when they were working during the day and not the night as per usual. At the sight, Prey's paranoia immediately reared its head. 'Why's Crimson returning? He isn't supposed to be coming back to us.' "Sir," Prey called out to Gloom, his high voice catching the other twos attention as well, "Look." They all tilted their heads back to follow Prey's hoof, spotting the approaching shape of Crimson too. "Why's he coming back? He was supposed to wait and meet us there." Gloom frowned worriedly. "Something's gone wrong." Prey declared, not knowing what, but knowing his words to be true. Gloom could've said they didn't know that yet, that there could be a completely mundane reason for Crimson's return, but he didn't because he had the exact same sinking feeling Prey did. Crimson was coming in fast, he'd reach them in less than thirty seconds. "What do you think the problem is?" Prey heard Scenic quietly say to Lilly. "Don't know, but we're about to find out." She answered as Crimson entered his final decent, rapidly growing in size. Crimson looked for a moment like he was going to crash, but then he flared his wings and pulled up expertly, letting his wings snap shut to his sides and dropping to the ground in a canter to cover the last few yards. Gloom met him halfway, and Prey couldn't help but move up from the rear to hear too. Gloom didn't waste time, "What's the situation?" Crimson was breathing deeply. Flying that fast in armour with heavy saddle bags on was no mean feat. Nevertheless, he managed to speak clearly as they gathered around him on the faded path, "Sir, the villagers, they're gone." ---<>--- The paper boat unexpectedly gets caught in a patch of reeds, and you get a stick to poke it free. You lean out, teetering on the bank so as not to fall in. The stick isn't quite long enough, but you don't want to get your hooves wet. Plus, there's pond worms and mud in there. In a pique of frustration, you throw the stick into the stream, and unexpectedly, the splash knocks the little boat free. Except now, the wash carries it down an unintended fork in the stream. Now you've got to cross the stream if you want to keep following. Sighing, you start gingerly probing the water with a hoof. And then a dire wolf lunges out of the trees and tears you to pieces. Life is like a paper boat. It floats and bobs onward, despite the water running sparkling red. ---<>--- Prey crouched beneath the boughs of young pine on the rise above the village of Mayflower. The village was little bigger than a hamlet. Gloom and Crimson were circling in the grey tinted sky above. About a hundred yards below him, the small village was laid out. Prey counted sixteen houses, all wood, no stone or glass in sight. It was silent and still. It was wrong. Prey could tell that much without having to take a step closer. He'd refused to do exactly that until they were absolutely certain there was nothing unpleasant waiting in there, which caution Gloom had completely agreed with. That was why Gloom and Crimson were still up above, slowly circling in wide arcs, searching. Prey's wary eyes were drawn past the village. Just a few yards beyond the last house, the first trees of the pine forest began. The farther in you looked, the thicker and deeper they got. They'd gone and built the village right on the forest's edge. Prey wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't seeing it. It wasn't just that either, the villagers had actually cleared ground to build and plant even closer to the trees. Prey could see tree stumps dotted about to prove it. Prey hadn't moved from this hiding spot for almost an hour. He, Gloom, and Crimson were taking no chances. Scenic and Lilly were supposed to be keeping watch from the path at ground level. Prey said 'supposed to', because he didn't know if they were still alert and paying attention. It was chilly, and uncomfortable. Their minds may have started to wander. Prey's eyes flicked up as he saw Gloom start to drift down towards the abandoned village, as wary as a vulture. Prey fixed his attention on the dark windows and empty doorways, ignoring the prickle of needles from the pine as he watched for any small flicker of movement at Gloom's approach. Nothing. Gloom touched down atop the cracked, mismatched slabs in what passed for the village square, the stones deeply embedded in the earth. It was the most open and clear spot available. Gloom folded his wings, standing next to the thin stream which trickled right through the village and disappeared into the forest, the brackish looking water filled with black gravel. Where had those cracked stone slabs come from? They looked old, older than this village. Gloom slowly swivelled about as he scanned his surroundings, his short spear at the ready. Prey watched Crimson touched down atop a sloping roof. His wing blades were unsheathed as he covered Gloom's back, high and low. The Sargent cautiously approached the door underneath where Crimson crouched, ready to spring down, and used his spear to ease the door open. "This is the Night Guard. Anypony here?" Prey heard him call. He was met with ringing silence. The lonely cawing of crows stopped. It started up again a minute later, but the unnerving moment lingered. With a signal to Crimson, Gloom entered the house, and Prey was left guessing as to what the Sargent was finding inside. It was a long, tense minute. Gloom came out, and with a shake of his head to Crimson, they moved onto the next house. Then the next. Then the next. And the next one after that. It soon became obvious that there was nothing here, nothing living at any rate. Gloom returned to the stream and raised his spear horizontally above his head. It was the pre-agreed all clear signal for them to come out. Prey emerged from under the low pine branches, brushing green needles from his wool, and started down the tangled rise. At the bottom he hopped across an overgrown ditch, and began covering the last forty yards into Mayflower. Prey paused, testing the ground under hoof. It rose in low, close packed ridges, seemingly too regular to be natural. Prey realised he was walking through a small field, those ridges were ploughed furrows. He hadn't realised at first, because it was all overgrown with virulent weeds and grasses, but this was indeed a field. Already a number of spiky saplings had sprung up, a hoof high. No one had tended this field in a while. 'This must've belonged to the people who went missing three months ago.' Prey thought. Fifteen people had originally gone missing. Now the rest had also disappeared. Prey hurried out of the field, over to Gloom and Crimson. He caught the uncertainty and guardedness in their postures as he joined them. Gloom gave him a tight nod, but his eyes never left the houses, his spear still out. Now that Prey was in the middle of the village, he was getting a sense of what else was wrong with the place. Scenic and Lilly jumped the deep cut stream and joined them, ears laid back as they looked around at the silent wooden homes. Down here, it seemed a modicum darker than it had appeared up on the rise. It was the shadow of the forest. Even if it didn't physically extend over the village, its presence still did. Lilly Blossom looked around, "This place is a dump." She said tossing her head, but she still spoke quietly. It was all bravado. She was just as unnerved as the rest of them by the still silence. "Where is everypony?" Scenic muttered, peering into an empty dark window, thick ivy crawling up the frame. "Not here." Crimson said shortly. '-no, really?-', Lilly thought but didn't say. By unspoken agreement, they were all watching a different direction to keep all angles in view. "None of the doors were kicked in, nor the furniture inside broken when I checked. It doesn't look like there was any struggle." Gloom noted. "Sir, do you remember that mule in Alfalfa Dale? He asked if we were here to find the missing ponies. I thought he was referring to those fifteen ponies from three months ago. But now I think he meant this, and we misunderstood him." Crimson said. "That we did." Gloom muttered. They'd all misunderstood, even Prey who had listened in on the mule's thoughts. The mule had been upset, and only thought about the missing villagers, not a time frame. Each side had assumed the other knew what they were talking about. "So when he said they'd sent a request for help to the Guard, he thought we were the answer to their plea." Gloom realised. "And we will." Lilly Blossom declared, "We'll be the ponies who answer his plea and save the villagers." Prey could hear rising excitement in the mare's thoughts, '-it's just like a story! Mysterious village, missing ponies. We'll solve this and I'll get to prove myself-' "There's no proof that these villagers actually need saving. There is no evidence that they were taken by force." Gloom said, although his eyes were narrowed as he looked suspiciously about, trying to spot anything they'd missed. Prey was doing the exact same. "Sir, there's nowhere for them to go sir. They must've been foalnapped sir." 'Nowhere for them to go?' Prey thought, looking at the dark forest, 'Wrong. There's plenty of places for them to have gone. Or rather, one, big, uncharted, place.' "This place feels so...wrong sir. Like a surreal painting." Scenic spoke up, scuffing a hoof on the turf. "I think we've all noticed, thank you Paint Spot." Gloom agreed, "Lilly Blossom?" "Sir, yes sir?" "You know any spells or magic that might help us here or find the villagers?" '-does he think I'm made of magic or something?-', Lilly thought incredulously. "Sir, basic training did not require recruits to master intense, high level magical matrixs-" "I'll take that as a no then," Gloom said, "Prey, you getting anything?" "Where did they get these stones?" Prey mused, looking down at the smattering of slab work they stood on. "What do you mean?" "These look ancient. They've got worn indents in places. I was just wondering where they came from. Not from around here, that's for sure." Prey said, looking at the entirely wooden constructed houses of Mayflower. "Is it important?" Gloom asked. Prey considered, before shaking his head, "No, probably not." He refocused on the village, looking for anything out of place. Except there was so much here out of place, or which could've just been how the village normally looked. It was impossible to tell. "Anything?" Gloom prompted him again. Prey caught Lilly roll her eyes out of the corner of his vision. '-sure, ask the foal twice. Why's there even a village this close to some untamed forest in the first place? Idiots. This was bound to happen-' Out of the five of them, Lilly was unsurprisingly the least unnerved. Prey dismissed her arrogance. She was a unicorn. "Maybe..." Prey slowly answered Gloom's question, tilting his head to the side to view the village from a different angle. He saw wisps of beard moss hanging from the edge of roofs. "Does this place feel...overgrown to anyone else?" Prey asked. Gloom didn't even correct his pronoun, instead everyone looked about them and spotted what Prey meant. Dark moss growing on doorsteps, brambles and ivy advancing up the walls, grass twinging thick around foundations. Crimson took a step closer to a wall and scraped his hoof down the boards. He examined his cloud steel horse shoe. There was a thin smear of black, sludge like algae on it, the kind that only grew on wood which'd lain abandoned for a long time in vegetation. The pegasus looked down, spotting the buds of orange fungi starting to grow on the base of the wall too. "Yes, it does." Crimson agreed. "Er, how do we know these ponies just didn't take very good care of their houses?" Scenic asked. "We don't." Gloom said, but he felt it too, how strange it was. Like the land was fighting against the village, wanting to reclaim the land because it was built right here on the forest's doorstep. Three pairs of eyes were drawn inexorably towards the pathways winding off into the grey gloom under the trees. The eyes belonged respectively to Crimson, Gloom, and Prey. "So, what now?" Prey asked, raising the big question. This was most definitely not what Nighthawk foresaw when he sent the ISND out here. Gloom made the logical decision, "Now? Now we go all the way back to Alfalfa Dale of course and ask questions." Cautiously, the ISND left the shaded dip, but not without many a backwards glance. Prey felt the forest watching their departure the whole way. --- Uncertainty. Doubt. Confusion. Frustration. And beneath it all, a strong undercurrent of apprehension. Words, theories, questions, these were all exchanged on the three hour trek back to Alfalfa Dale as they tried to figure out what might've happened, but really, it was only a way of expressing their doubts and fears. Prey did not participate in the talk. It all boiled down to the same result in the end; they didn't know what had happened. It was Lilly Blossom who came up with the wildest suggestions; "A band of griffin brigands could've foalnapped them for slavery." Scenic was a tad more realistic, although he obviously knew as little as Lilly how life outside of the tame lands of Equestria really worked, "Griffionia's on the other side of Equestria. But perhaps it was diamond dogs instead." Gloom was mainly the voice of reality, with Crimson chipping in. "Just because Griffionia is on the other side of Equestria does not mean all griffins live there." Gloom pointed out. "But still not dogs or griffins. I mean, there would've been signs of a struggle. Disturbed earth. Destroyed doors." Crimson said. Prey did not join in. He kept his council private and thought over how eerily familiar this was. Fifty-seven years, and the prickling feeling in the back of his wool was exactly the same. --- Farmer's weeding the fields dourly watched them as they returned to Alfalfa Dale, eyes untrusting and stances closed. Prey had expected that. The ISND were the invaders here. Gloom and Crimson bore it naturally because they were Night Guards. Scenic and Lilly were uncomfortable and thrown by it. In the end, it was down to Prey to find the same mule from earlier to question. Prey remembered he'd been wearing a tool belt, and successfully tracked the mule back to the only carpenter's shop in Alfalfa Dale. While they could've asked anyone in the whole town, the mule more obviously knew about what had happened out in Mayflower, thus he was the one they sought out. "What're you doing back here?" He asked suspiciously when he came to his workshop's door. "What happened in Mayflower?" Gloom asked, not beating about the bush. "Don't know. No one does. That's why we sent a letter to the Guard, isn't it?" The mule responded. "You sent the letter?" "No. Mayor did o'course. But I'm his brother." The mule said flatly. He still hadn't given his name. "I understand that nopony knows what happened. But what can you tell us? It's obvious all of that hasn't only happened since the original fifteen ponies were reported missing." Gloom said. "What you on about, fifteen ponies?" The mule scowled, "There were only four ponies." Gloom's brows drew together, "Was the report mistaken?" "Aye it was. Fifteen people were stolen away. Four were ponies. Do they count people differently over the Ridgeback?" The mule snapped. Gloom did not let himself get riled up in return, "Of course not. I'm sure whomever filled out the report just made a mistake." "Mistakes are all well and good over there where the rich ponies can afford 'em, but not over here." "Mayflower," Gloom reminded him, "The rest of its po-people have gone missing. What happened? What details can you give us? When did this happen, how many more have vanished? Anything of note you can think of may greatly help us." Gloom pressed. "It was in the letter for help we sent. Did you not read it?" The mule asked suspiciously. Briefly, Gloom considered lying, but decided against it. "Ah, no. You see, we were actually sent here to try and help discover what might've happened to those fifteen po-people three months ago. Nopony in Canterlot has received any further letter requesting aid." "I see. So you didn't even come here with the intention to help." The mule stated flatly. "Nopony knew," Gloom repeated patiently. The mule had a right to be angry, even if it was misguided. "But we're here now. We're trying to help, but for that, we need you to help us first." The mules tail was lashing about in anger, but he restrained his temper; '-these rotten Guards. But if it might help those poor unfortunates, what's the harm?-' "Aye. Nobody knows where they've gone," The mule said, staring Gloom right in his yellow cat eyes as he stressed the word, daring them to take issue with it, "But I'm probably as good a person as any to tell you what little we do know." His anger passed, and the life slowly seemed to be draining out of the mule as his tail fell limp, "I'll tell you what I can. Might be you can help somehow." But there was no hope in his voice. ------ They were there barely five minutes, even with Gloom asking about every detail he could think of, plus Crimson and Prey's input. That was how little the townsfolk of Alfalfa Dale knew about the villagers disappearances and fates. A week ago the mule, finally identified as Bale, and his wife had gone to Mayflower to visit his wife's younger sister, but more importantly, deliver an order of new barrels. There was no time for leisure out here on the border. But once there, Bale and his wife had found Mayflower exactly as the ISND had seen it earlier today. Empty and abandoned. They'd hurried back and told Bale's brother, the mayor, and then the rest of the townsfolk. They hadn't tried to suppress the bad news. Bale's news had been met with despair. It was the second time that Mayflower had suffered this tragedy, and the villagers from the first time were still missing. A search party was organised from volunteers and sent out, but there had been little hope. Their low hopes had not been disappointed. They hadn't discovered anything more than the ISND, and the townsfolk could hardly continue the search indefinitely. They had farms and families to look after. So they'd done the only thing they could. They sent a message to a Guard force who were useless the last time, and prayed for a miracle. --- "And that's the last we heard of it, or anyone saw of them. No one knows anything else." Bale said dully. The mule got up off the upturned barrel and brushed his tail off. "I have work to do." He said simply, turning to go. "Wait," Gloom called, "Did you say you searched deep into the forest? Bale didn't slow down as he returned to his shop, "O'course we didn't. No one goes in deeper than daylight can reach. Maybe if'n you had a guide, sure, but we're not suicidal. Little good you can do for Mayflower if'n you're already dead. You've got to be realistic about these things." And with that, Bale pulled the door shut and left them standing outside on the dusty street. Busy citizens gave the misplaced group a wide berth, their eyes wary. A goat pulling a barrow paused and traced a hoof over his cracked horn as he gave them a long look, before finally trundling on. Prey watched everything. He saw how the townsfolk acted, and what they hid. They were worried, all of them. But Bale...Bale had been scared. He hadn't openly shown it, the mule's pride hadn't allowed it, but Prey had listened in on the mules thoughts. And Prey knew Bale hadn't told them everything. Bale hadn't hidden anything as such, but nor had he shared everything he suspected, or rather everything he feared. "Sir?" Crimson prompted, asking what they should do now. '-I haven't a clue-', Gloom thought, looking around the street, '-but one thing's clear. We won't solve anything standing around here-' Scenic and Lilly Blossom were both looking to Gloom expectantly, instinctively expecting the Sargent to have a solution. Prey saw the wince Gloom hid at being burdened with their expectations. "First, let's find somewhere to sit down and eat. Then, we're going to make a plan." Gloom decided. ------​ "Oh but you must travel through the woods again and again..." Said the shadow at the window, "...And you must be very lucky to avoid the wolf every time."