//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 - The Best Night Ever 
// Story: Twilight Sparkle of the Royal Guard: The Rising 
// by King of Beggars 
//------------------------------//

Twilight poured herself the last of the coffee from the pot and levitated the empty container to the end of the table closest to the door. Somepony would eventually bring in a trolley with a fresh pot and maybe something to snack on. She slurped at the coffee, chugging the stale, room-temperature muck in a single gulp. It wasn’t good, or even strong, but the small surge of caffeine was more than welcomed. She set the empty mug down and returned to glaring at the map at the center of the table.

The little colored flags on the map of Canterlot had doubled as the investigation wore on. Bits of yarn had been pinned to the map, connecting areas of interest according to various leads.

She looked down at the report she’d been given just minutes ago, frowning at what she read. She snorted angrily and used her magic to pluck a little green flag off of a large, grayed out square on the map.

The flag had denoted a warehouse that had been marked by the Port Authority’s records as being unused, but the guards patrolling the airship ports had uncovered rumors of suspicious characters skulking around the area. It had been a promising lead, but a search of the facility, under the pretense of a surprise building inspection, only turned up some Manechurian pottery that hadn’t been in any submitted records. It had turned out that the owner of the warehouse had been doctoring his shipping manifests to avoid paying import tax. It was good that they’d caught the guy, but imported kitchenware wasn’t as important as missing ponies, and Twilight couldn’t have cared less about it at the moment.

She took a deep breath and emptied her lungs in a slow, frustrated sigh before she rolled the scroll up and flung it over her shoulder. The soft tumble of parchment rolling to the ground registered in her ears as it landed on the ‘Dead Leads’ pile behind her.

Over the course of the investigation, Twilight’s organizational system had gone a bit awry. As the Gala grew nearer, and the window they had to find the missing ponies closed, the intensity of the search had slowly begun ramping upwards. Reports were flooding in as their agents in the field double-timed it to track down every lead and follow-up every order they were given. The torrent of information had come so fast that they were now buried in a veritable sea of scrolls, and everything had ended up stacked in shoulder-high piles along the walls.

She glanced to the head of the table where Whippoorwill and Spitfire were huddled together over a map of the sewer system. Their manes were mussed from hours of running their hooves through their hair in frustration, and their coats were matted with sweat. Twilight ran a hoof through her own mane and realized that she probably looked as bad as they did. Her joints were sore from sitting in the same position for hours and hours, and her neck was stiff. A walk to stretch her legs would do a world of good, but there just wasn’t any time for that.

All three ponies looked up as they heard a sound like rolling thunder overhead, accompanied by the boom-fizzle of fireworks in the sky. The sound of the Wonderbolts putting on one of their world-renowned shows could be heard even this far into the castle, through the thick doors of the conference room.

Twilight checked the clock just to be certain, but they all knew that the sound of a Wonderbolts performance meant that the Grand Galloping Gala’s opening ceremonies were already underway. As soon as the show was over, Celestia would lower the sun and the doors would be opened to guests.

“Decurion,” Whippoorwill said, breaking the spell that had fallen over the room. “How’d the lead at the port go?”

“It was just a tax dodger doctoring his freight bills, sir,” she reported.

“I see…”

“How about the thing with the sewers?” she asked.

Spitfire shook her head. “All the access points near our areas of interest were still secured and didn’t show any signs of being tampered with. The Chief of Police sent a few officers disguised as underground workers down for a peek, but they didn’t turn up anything. They’re going to check a few more access points, but honestly the sewer system in Canterlot isn’t as big as I thought it was – not compared to somewhere like Manehattan, anyway. I doubt there’s anywhere down there big enough to hold twenty-nine ponies.”

“Guess the only thing is to keep at it, huh?” Twilight suggested. The other two soldiers grunted in agreement.

They continued working and a half hour or so later, there was a knock at the door.

“Sir, ma’am,” the guard said as he entered and saluted them. “The Captain of the Guard has ordered all field agents back to the barracks for reorganization, and he wants Optio Whippoorwill in his office for a debriefing.”

Twilight spun to face the stallion, her lips pulled into a tight, angry line. “Why?”

The guard’s discipline faltered for just a moment as he withered under the glare Twilight was giving him. “Um, he said he wants to prepare for the next sweep of the city, ma’am.”

“We still have hours until that’s necessary!” Twilight snapped. “The Gala just started and Shining Armor isn’t going to put up that shield until the Gala is finishing up!”

“Thank you, Legionary,” Whippoorwill said, cutting across Twilight’s protest. He smoothed back his mane and put his galea on. “Go back to the Centurion and tell him that I’ll be along in a moment to deliver my report in person.”

Twilight turned to the Optio, too shocked to even notice that the Legionary had beat a hasty retreat. “Sir, we still have time!”

“That time will be better spent preparing for the next stage of the search, Decurion,” Whippoorwill calmly explained. He set about gathering his own notes and stowing them into a pair of saddlebags. “When the shield goes up, we’re going to have a lot of confused, scared ponies wondering what’s going on. Princess Celestia is going to make a proclamation explaining the situation, but until she does, we need to be ready to maintain order and reassure the public. Once that’s done, we won’t have to go around peeking in windows. We can do a full and thorough search of the city.”

He was right. Preparing for the large-scale search was the most efficient use of their remaining time. But, even though she could admit that his reasoning was sound, it felt like a failure to admit that their search efforts to this point hadn’t yielded results. That sense of failure left a grossly sour taste in her mouth, and she suddenly wished she had more of the cold, bitter coffee to rinse it away.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Okay…” she said. “Okay… you’re right. Where do we go next, then, sir? Should Spitfire and I accompany you to see the Centurion or should we work with the Night Watch Tesserarius organizing the search parties?”

“Neither. You and Captain Spitfire are relieved. Go get some rest.”

“Sir, I’m fine,” Twilight protested. “And I know Spitfire’s up for more, right, Spitfire?”

Spitfire merely nodded in response.

“You’re relieved, Decurion,” Optio Whippoorwill repeated, his words somehow sharper without changing pitch or volume. “You earned a good night’s rest. The rest of the Guard has been working in shifts, so they’re fresh-faced and ready to go. They haven’t been working for over twenty-four hours like we have. If it makes you feel any better, Centurion Steel Century is probably going to give me the same order as soon as he’s been apprised of our findings.”

Twilight hung her head dejectedly. She wanted to continue protesting, to plead for the chance to stay on the case, but she knew it was pointless from the tone in his voice. He wouldn’t change his mind. She almost didn’t register the fact that he’d left until he called her name and Spitfire’s as he officially dismissed them. He might’ve said something about the possibility of a commendation after the missing ponies were found safe and sound, but the only other thing she’d heard clearly was the click of the door latch catching on his way out.

A pile of reports went flying as Spitfire kicked at them indiscriminately, sending the scrolls tumbling across the floor in all directions. Twilight almost shouted out of reflex about Spitfire messing up their organized files, but she realized that it didn’t matter anymore. All the information in those scrolls had been summarized in the notes and logbooks Optio Whippoorwill had taken with him. The scrolls themselves were now just bits of paper for the recycling heap.

“Well, isn’t this just sun damned peachy-keen?” Spitfire said angrily. “We didn’t find shit, and now maybe they want to give us a couple new bars for our dress jackets for the trouble?”

Twilight was only half paying attention to Spitfire’s rant, but she shared the sentiment. All she could think about was those ponies that she’d failed. Not for the first time, she considered the possibility that they might never be found and that their families would never know closure on the matter. That was what she was most afraid of, and the thought of it made her heart ache.

Twilight chewed her lip angrily as she mentally reviewed every scrap of evidence they’d gathered that had seemed like it might be important. There had to be something they’d overlooked, some lead that hadn’t been followed all the way, or something that looked like a dead end but just required a little more digging. If she could figure something out, if she could have some last-minute revelation or bolt of inspiration, maybe they could still do it. They still had a few hours. The Gala would be on until midnight – that was the real deadline.

She shook her head, tossing aside the thoughts buzzing around her head like a cloud of angry gnats. Little fantasies about going off on her own and succeeding where the combined forces of the Royal Guard and the Canterlot Police Department had failed weren’t helping.

“I don’t even feel like getting drunk,” Spitfire commented sourly. She kicked again at a loose scroll. It thumped against the wall with the soft slap of stiff paper striking against stone. “Bars are probably going to be closed, too, once the shield goes up. Too bad, though. With every uniform in town running around looking for our victims, Dirty’s place is probably empty right now. It’s probably the quietest that place has ever been. Bet there’s not even a line at the pinball machine.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Twilight said as she abruptly made for the door. She had to move her body, to go for a walk, to do literally anything but spend another second standing around in this room. In her haste she’d almost forgotten to grab her galea. She levitated the helmet from under the table and plopped it on her head with barely a thought.

“Are you going to go looking for your princess?” Spitfire teased with a forced laugh. “Must be nice to have somepony to make you feel better after a shitty day.”

The idea of going to find Cadance was tempting – tempting enough to stop Twilight right in her tracks. Her girlfriend was probably at the Gala right now, standing with Princess Celestia and greeting guests at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall. Twilight was wearing her armor, which would mostly hide how disheveled and sweaty she probably looked. She could walk right up to Cadance, claim that her presence was requested elsewhere, and then…

Twilight rubbed at her face tiredly. She couldn’t face Cadance, not right now. Not with empty hooves. Maybe it was childish, maybe she just wanted to pout, but right now all she wanted was to be alone for a little while.

“Something like that,” Twilight said with a shake of her head. “See you.”

“Yeah, see ya, Sparkle,” Spitfire called back.

The guards outside the door saluted her as she breezed past them. They would stand there until somepony from the archives showed up to sort through the paperwork for anything that might be worth holding on to for the official record. It was almost entirely scrap, but rules were rules, so the archivists ended up with the messy job of picking through the heap.

The halls were mostly empty, save for a few guards standing at their usual posts outside important rooms. Everypony was at the other end of the castle, enjoying the Gala or working to make sure the guests had a good time.

Her ears twitched as she heard a small thump, followed by the sound of muffled voices. She went in the direction of the noise, turning a corner and finding herself standing in front of a broom closet. Most ponies would be surprised just how many of the beautifully crafted, ornate doors were just there so nopony would see the mops and jugs of cleaning solution.

Twilight opened the door without hesitation and blinked at the scene she found.

A young mare and stallion – probably only two or three years younger than she was – were standing upright in the closet, leaning closely against one another. The filly’s back was pressed to the wall and her dress was hiked up where her beau’s hoof groped at her flank. They were frozen, staring at her with eyes wide in surprise and cheeks flush with embarrassment and arousal. The colt had streaks of the girl’s dark red lipstick smeared all around his mouth and cheeks – a tell-tale sign of how slobbery their kissing had gotten.

It was just a couple of horny teens, probably the foals of some of the big wigs at the Gala. They probably had gotten bored of the party and snuck off for a little face-sucking. Twilight decided to do what Cadance would do in this situation.

Twilight lifted a hoof to her lips and shushed them. She added a wink and closed the door gently.

At least somepony was having fun tonight.


* * *


Fluttershy wasn’t having any fun tonight.

Her friends had been wonderful, of course. Each of them had attempted to make good on their promise to include her in their own planned activities, but no matter what she did, Fluttershy couldn’t help but feel like an extra wheel. She hadn’t spent more than a few minutes with each of them, trying to enjoy herself and to just be happy to be included in whatever her friends were doing, but it was no use. Finally, when Rainbow Dash had tried to lead her to the V.I.P. area where the Wonderbolts were, Fluttershy had just excused herself by saying she needed to use the washroom.

Now, she found herself standing at the edge of the ballroom, trying to look as small as possible, attempting in vain to disappear into the sea of fabulously dressed ponies. The lovely dress that Rarity had made for her was a gorgeous labor of love, but Fluttershy was starting to think that she would’ve preferred a simpler dress – something that didn’t draw quite so much attention. Several ponies had already come up to her to ask who’d designed it, and Fluttershy just nervously smiled and pointed them in the direction of the buffet tables, where Rarity was holding court with the fashionable types. Spike was standing beside her, shoveling snacks into his mouth and trying not to look as bored as he probably was.

Applejack had her little kiosk set up near the catering tables. She’d resorted to attempting to remake her family recipes into something more visually appealing to the highfalutin crowd, but so far the only interested customer had been Spike whenever he drifted close enough to her stand.

She hadn’t seen Shining Armor since the start of the Gala. He was in the entrance hall, standing with Princess Celestia and greeting guests as they arrived at the party. Surprisingly, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was also with them. According to Rarity, the Princess of Love was notorious for never attending the Grand Galloping Gala, so it was quite a surprise to see her, apparently. She seemed nice, though, and Spike had nothing but nice things to say about her. Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was also dating their sister, from what he had said, and the girls were all very eager to meet the two of them later.

“Oh, child, that is an absolutely gorgeous dress,” somepony said in her direction.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy replied timidly as she turned and greeted the approaching mare with a friendly smile. She suddenly felt a surge of pride in herself. The first time she’d been approached about her dress she had practically dove under a table in surprise.

The mare was a few years older than she was, but not too much older, and thick around the flanks in a comfortable, matronly way. Atop her head was a very ugly hat – though Fluttershy was much too polite to ever say that aloud – covered in a cornucopia’s worth of wax fruit. At her side was a stallion who gave a curt, disinterested nod as he sat down and smoothed his paunchy belly back into place beneath his bright red cummerbund. He was twice the mare’s age, and the hairpiece he wore seemed to be competing with his wife’s hat to see which was uglier – though, again, Fluttershy would never say that aloud.

“You simply must tell me who your designer is,” the older mare cooed. She seemed to lean into every word with her full weight, and Fluttershy could practically see the italics hanging in the air above the mare’s head. “I’d love to commission something with that ‘natural’ aesthetic to compliment my hat.” She motioned to the spangled silver dress she wore, the sequins catching the light and glittering like it was made of diamonds. “This old thing simply doesn’t cut it for a hat as lovely as this. It was a gift, you know, from the Duchess of Trottingham. The hat, that is, not the dress.”

“My friend Rarity made it for me,” Fluttershy said, nodding towards where Rarity was laughing eagerly with a handsome stallion with a white coat and exquisitely coiffed blonde hair.

“Oh, I see she’s caught Prince Blueblood’s attentions,” the mare tittered, fanning herself with a hoof. Beside her, her husband’s ears had perked up at the mention of the prince’s name, and he was now looking in that direction as well. “He always did have an eye for pretty things.”

Fluttershy blinked as she caught the implication that the older mare was making. “She’s here with my friend Spike,” she explained as she pointed a hoof towards where the dragon in question was eating whole, unshelled clams by tossing them into the air and catching them in his mouth.

“With him, you say? Surely they’re not an item.”

“They are,” Fluttershy said. “They’ve been together for a few months.”

The mare fanned herself feverishly. She was beginning to sway a little, like she was moments away from fainting. Fluttershy might have been worried about the other mare’s health, if she hadn’t been friends with Rarity. Her close friendship with Ponyville’s number one fashion diva had given her a sense for the histrionic exaggerations of a certain class of mare.

“My, my, my, talented and romantically involved with a dragon?” the mare gushed. She turned to her husband and tugged at the lapels of his mauve dinner jacket with bright orange magic. Fluttershy hadn’t even noticed the mare’s horn, hidden as it was beneath a waxy grape bunch in her hat. “I simply must have a dress made by her. She’s so daring! So eccentric!”

“Yes, dear,” the stallion muttered as he allowed himself to be dragged away.

“Thank you, child,” the mare called as she walked away. “It was lovely speaking to you!”

As they were leaving, Fluttershy decided to capitalize on the surge of confidence she felt over how well she’d handled the situation. This was the perfect chance to ask something that had been on her mind all night.

“Oh, um, wait,” Fluttershy called after them. She wasn’t very loud, but luckily her voice still managed to carry over the gentle hum of the orchestra.

“Yes?” the mare asked.

“I was wondering if, maybe, you’d heard anything about the garden?” Fluttershy asked, suddenly feeling the confidence bleed out of her. “I was told that they might be closed tonight and there seems to be a guard at every exit.”

The older couple looked at one another curiously, holding some silent conversation between themselves.

“You know, now that you mention it, there are quite a few more guards than there were last year,” the stallion pointed out. “And I had heard about the garden being closed off.”

“I heard it was because some of the gardening staff didn’t show up for work,” Fluttershy said.

“I suppose even the princesses have trouble finding good help,” the mare snickered.

“I guess,” Fluttershy said, smiling sadly. “I just wanted to ask, though. Have you been to the menagerie before? Is it true that the princess has monkeys?”

“Oh, yes!” the stallion exclaimed, his eyes alight with newfound interest. “Spider monkeys! They’re quite fascinating! But if you ask me, the real attraction is the princess’ kangaroo!”

“Kangaroo?” Fluttershy repeated. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and the word came out as a disappointed little whine.

“Dear, don’t bore the girl,” the stallion’s wife huffed as she rolled her eyes. “I apologize for him. My husband fancies himself a naturalist. Sitting around on the beach and sketching boobies is hardly a respectable hobby for a gentlecolt of his means. If you’ll excuse us, young lady, we must see a mare about a dress.”

The couple left, though the husband looked very much as though he wanted to stay and continue talking.

Fluttershy was up on the tips of her hooves, dancing with nervous energy as she craned her neck to try and see past the crowds and through the windows into the garden. “Ooooooh, kangaroooooooooo~” she quietly whined.

Why did those gardeners have to skip work? If they had shown up, they could’ve done their jobs, the garden would have been open, and she could have been playing with a kangaroo right now, this very second.

She sat down on the floor in a huff, pouting and not even caring that her dress was getting wrinkled. This was turning out to be the worst night ever.

No. She wouldn’t let it end like this. She was going to see the kangaroo, and the monkeys, and the squirrels and beavers, and she was going to hug each and every critter in that menagerie before the night was through, no matter what it took. The question was: how was she going to get past all the guards?

What she needed was a distraction.

A loud, static-filled thumping noise suddenly filled the air, cutting across every conversation in the room and drawing every set of eyes toward the stage at the front of the ballroom. Pinkie Pie had taken the stage and found a microphone. She was testing the connection to the tall speakers on either side of the stage by tapping the mic with her hoof. The ponies in the orchestra behind her were glaring at her in annoyance at the interruption.

“Hey, all you party-ponies!” she crowed into the microphone. “My name’s Pinkie Pie, and I think it’s time to crank this par-tay up to twelve! You know what really breaks the ice? A little game I call the Pony-Pokey!”


* * *


Twilight wandered through the garden, dragging her hooves as she walked in the tall, unmowed grass. Luna’s moon hung overhead, as bright and full as any illumination spell. She’d seen a few guards still on patrol, but for the most part she was alone. That would change, though, once the shield was up and the second stage of the operation was in full swing.

She had considered going back to Cadance’s room – which was more or less their room, now – but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. And she definitely wasn’t about to go back to her quarters in the barracks, not while her fellow guards were preparing themselves for the next push. She wasn’t up to facing them, either.

Her search for solitude had led her to the garden, and some small part of her had briefly fantasized about the possibility that she might somehow stumble upon something that everypony else had missed. But now that she was here, she realized how silly a notion that was. The Canterlot Garden was one of the most expansive parks in all of Equestria, and she was just one pony. What were the odds that she was going to find something that the rest of the Royal Guards had overlooked?

Twilight sat in the grass and rubbed tiredly at her face. Maybe she should have gone to bed after all.

She was frustrated, and weary, and worried. She needed to calm down.

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and drawing in the scents of the garden. Winter would be coming soon, and she could already sense the first blush of the frigid winter nights in the air. In just a few weeks Cloudsdale would start making the rounds to disperse snow across all of Equestria. She focused on that sensation and invited the cold air to nip at her lungs with a few more heavy breaths. She opened her eyes and felt better, more grounded.

She was so caught up in enjoying the night that she almost didn’t hear the sound of somepony gently dropping from the sky onto the grass behind her.

“Think your princess is back inside the castle,” Spitfire quipped as she took a seat beside Twilight.

“I just wanted to sit out here for a little bit…” Twilight said sadly.

“Yeah, I get that…” Spitfire sighed. “Figured you might want to be alone…”

Twilight quirked an eyebrow at that. “So you came looking for me?”

Spitfire shrugged. “I wanted to be alone, too.”

They sat in the damp grass for a while, just listening to the sound of chirping crickets and the distant hooting of an owl. The silence was comfortable as they wallowed in their mutual failure.

“How long are we sitting here for, anyway?” Spitfire asked.

“Dunno,” Twilight said, shrugging. “Until we stop being sadsacks, I guess… Might be a while… I think that I maybe don’t cope with failure too well.”

“We did good work, Sparkle,” Spitfire said limply.

“I know.”

“They’ll get found.”

“I know that, too.” The chilly air was starting to get her sinuses going. Her nose was running a bit, and she wiped it on the back of her hoof.  “It’s hard not to take it personally, though.”

Spitfire fell backwards, her wings spread out behind her as she looked up at the stars. “We did our job, and we covered a lot of ground. They can’t expect much more of us than that.”

“No, but we can always expect more of ourselves.”

Spitfire made a sort of annoyed noise half-way between a snort and a scoff, like she had a fishbone caught in her throat. “I’m trying to talk myself down here, Sparkle, and you’re not making it easy,” she snapped. She put her hooves in the air, the tips held a few inches apart. “I swear, I’m just this close to going out and kicking down some doors on my own.”

Twilight chuckled. “Sorry.”

Twilight got up and whipped her tail, flinging away the moisture from the wet grass. As she stood, she spotted a familiar structure in the distance. She smiled wistfully, drawn towards the white gazebo before she even realized she was walking.

Twilight stepped onto the wooden patio and knocked on one of the ivy-covered wooden pillars holding the roof up, smiling despite the mood she was in. She hadn’t been here in a while, but this was the place that she and Cadance had had their first ‘date’. It would always be special to her, and the memory of that rainy summer day undid a few of the knots she still felt in her gut.

“This is a cute little hut,” Spitfire commented as she cantered up beside her.

“It’s a gazebo,” Twilight corrected.

“Oh, well, laa-dee-daa, Prenchy La Pew-Pew,” Spitfire mocked.

“Excuse me for using the correct terminology,” Twilight said with a huff. She walked out to the middle of the patio, feeling the urge to just sit and look out at the reflecting pool. 

The creak of loose floorboards was sudden and loud enough that it gave Twilight pause. She looked down and pressed her weight a little harder, coaxing a loud squeal from the wooden deck. She didn’t remember the floorboards being so creaky the last time she’d been here, and that had been with the combined weight of herself and Cadance as they… well, suffice it to say, they were putting a lot of pressure on these boards, and they hadn’t made a peep.

“Something wrong?” Spitfire asked.

“These floorboards are loose,” Twilight said as she shifted her weight, checking the surrounding floorboards and finding that they were likewise creaky. “I think that maybe—”

The floorboards cracked and splintered, giving out under the weight of Twilight dressed in her full armor. Twilight felt Spitfire’s arms wrap around her in an attempt to pull her away. Her weight shifted for only a moment before she heard more cracking lumber, and the sensation of freefall came over her.

It only lasted a moment before she and Spitfire hit the ground, landing at an angle with enough force to knock the wind out of her. Even with the small amount of padding under the armor, metal plates didn’t do much for blunt impacts.

Somehow, in their short tumble, Spitfire had ended up beneath Twilight. The pegasus shouted in pain as the full weight of an armored guard fell on top of her. The hole they’d fallen into turned into a hard slope, and the two of them began sliding into the darkness.

Twilight groped at the walls with her hooves, trying to find purchase to slow her descent, but her armored shoes proved poor climbing equipment, succeeding in little more than digging deep gouges in the semi-soft earth. Something in the tunnel slammed against the side of Twilight’s head. A rock or a root, or some other protrusion, struck her hard enough to make her vision swim.

It was another minute or so before Twilight realized that she wasn’t falling anymore, and that the sense of vertigo she was feeling was from the hit she’d taken on the tumble down. She held a hoof to her head with a sickly groan. The impact of whatever she’d hit on the way down had knocked her galea off.

Twilight shook her head, clearing away the last of the stars just in time to see something shifting in the pitch black darkness with a sickly moan. She cast an illumination spell, big and bright as she could. Spitfire was a short distance away, slowly rising to her hooves.

“You okay?” Twilight asked as she checked herself over for injuries. Luckily, her chakram was still tightly secured in the holster built into her armor, so at least she was still armed.

“Feels like a freakin’ house fell on top of me, but I’m good, I think,” Spitfire replied. She sat down and touched herself all over, occasionally wincing whenever she touched what must have been a sore spot. All her limbs were at the right angles, and aside from a few small cuts, she’d come out of their tumble fairly unscathed. “Pegasi may not be as tough as earth ponies, but we’re made to take a tumble. How are you holding up?”

“I lost my helmet,” Twilight answered, “but fine, otherwise.”

Twilight swung her head around, taking in their surroundings. They were underground, that much was certain. They were in some sort of small cavern. Stalactites and stalagmites jutted out of the ground and ceiling, and Twilight’s light reflected off the walls like thousands of twinkling stars. Here and there were enormous crystals – most likely some sort of quartz – and some of them were nearly the size of a fully grown pony. 

“Where the hay are we?” Spitfire asked as she sidled up to Twilight. As a pegasus, Spitfire didn’t have the sort of magic that allowed her cast a lighting spell, so at the moment she was entirely dependent on Twilight’s light.

“We’re under Canterlot,” Twilight said, “in the old mining tunnels.”

“Mining tunnels?” Spitfire asked in surprise.

“Yeah, they haven’t been used in hundreds of years, but a long time ago, ponies used to mine this place for granite and quartz. Quartz is a pretty useful material with lots of industrial applications. Princess Celestia put a stop to it, though. She didn’t like the idea of hollowing out the mountain that her city was built on top of.”

“I grew up in Canterlot and I’ve never heard anything about this before.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Twilight explained. “Like I said, nopony’s been down here for hundreds of years. These mines run really deep into the mountain, and the entrance tunnels all either collapsed on their own or were collapsed forcibly to seal them off.”

“Speaking of that,” Spitfire sighed. “It looks like our way back up is done for.”

Sure enough, spilling out of the wall behind them was a pile of dirt and loose stones that had obviously come from the tunnel that had led them down here. Twilight looked around but couldn’t find her helmet anywhere. It was probably still in the tunnel, buried under a few tons of dirt and rock.

“I’m pretty sure that hole wasn’t under the gazebo just a few months ago, so I think it’s safe to say we’ve figured out what happened to those missing gardeners…” Twilight said. “I hadn’t even considered the idea that somepony might be insane enough to dig tunnels this deep into the mountain… What do you want to bet that there’s more of these tunnels around?”

“There’s probably a few around that park near Sunday Street,” Spitfire suggested. “Booby-trap, you think?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not the gazebo. Whoever dug the tunnel probably just pulled out the support beams under the floorboards. The tunnel, though… yeah, that might’ve been made to collapse. That’s actually an old earth pony strategy. You dig a tunnel, get the enemy to chase you down it, and kick out a keystone that makes it collapse on whoever is chasing you. You’ve got to know what you’re doing to set it up without collapsing the tunnel on yourself, but it’s really effective.”

Twilight rubbed tenderly at the little lump that was forming under her mane. “That’s probably what I hit on the way down.”

“So you’re saying this was just dumb luck that we stumbled on this place?” Spitfire asked incredulously.

“Seems that way…” Twilight replied cautiously, not liking the strained quality of Spitfire’s voice.

Twilight expected some kind of ribbing, or a joke, or… something, out of Spitfire. But of all the things that Spitfire could have said or done, Twilight would never have guessed she would start laughing.

“Twilight Sparkle, I swear,” Spitfire snickered, “I’ve heard of ponies running head-first into trouble, but you’re the only one I know of that can fall flank-first into it.”

“Should you really be laughing right now?” Twilight hissed at her. “We’re in enemy territory.”

“Right, right.” Spitfire cleared her throat a few times, managing to get her giggle fit under control. She held a hoof over her head and slowly lowered it, miming the act of physically wiping the amusement away until her expression was more appropriately serious. “Warrior face.”

Twilight could only shake her head at Spitfire’s antics. She couldn’t blame the other girl, though. Excitement and trepidation made for a stressful mix, and some ponies naturally defused that sort of tension by cracking wise.

Twilight took a moment to appreciate the situation they were in. They were trapped underground and separated from any possible backup, running on very little sleep, and facing an unknown enemy with civilian lives in the balance.

It was almost enough to make her groan.

“How could the same stuff happen to the same girl twice?” she muttered under her breath.

“How do you want to proceed, here?” Spitfire asked. “It’s pitch-damn-black down here and you’re our only light, unless you want to go ahead and cast a couple of those night vision spells the unicorn recon scouts use.”

Twilight frowned. She did know a few spells for night vision. After returning home from her experience in the Necropolis, it was one of the first things she’d looked into. She now knew several variations that gave differing types of vision by amplifying and modifying available light, but none of them would help her in a place like this. Without her illumination spell, they’d be in pitch black, and Twilight only knew one spell that would work in the complete and total absence of light. Sadly, the spell couldn’t be cast on a pegasus like Spitfire.

“The only one I know that will work in total darkness only works for unicorns… See, there’s a thought experiment called Clover’s Prism that explains something about the nature of light and how unicorn magic interacts with it. Basically—”

“Basically it’d be like trying to plug my hairdryer into a minotaur power outlet,” Spitfire said glibly, cutting off Twilight’s long-winded explanation.

“That’s… not completely incorrect…” Twilight reluctantly admitted. “I know that pegasi have great night vision, how good is it?”

“Even bat ponies need some light,” Spitfire explained. “You’d need to be an actual bat, with sonar or whatever, to see your way around down here without something giving off a little light.”

Twilight tapped her chin in thought. “This could be a problem then… There are possible hostiles down here with us, and we can’t travel without light.”

“You could always night vision yourself and scout ahead, then come get me if it’s safe,” Spitfire suggested. “That is, if that heavy armor of yours isn’t going to be a problem.”

“This is custom-made Royal Guard armor,” Twilight replied tersely. Spitfire was a friend, but that didn’t mean Twilight would stand for anypony questioning the practicality of her beloved armor. “If I’m careful with my steps it won’t make a peep. As for that idea…”

Twilight chewed her lip as she considered Spitfire’s proposal. It had a lot of merit, but also a lot of negatives. While it appeared on the outside to be a fairly safe option, there was the possibility that they were dealing with an enemy force with their own night vision capabilities. Any advantage would be lost in that scenario, and Twilight would be separated from Spitfire, which made them both vulnerable. If something were to happen to her while she was scouting, Spitfire would be a sitting duck.

Twilight also hated the idea of anypony being in the dark. Back in the Necropolis, light had saved her life and the lives of Cadance and Basenji. The idea that light always meant safety – without question – was deeply ingrained in her psyche. It was hard to go against that instinct and consider the darkness as its own form of protection.

Twilight shook her head. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you in the dark…” she explained. “I think having the light is worth the risk.”

“Can we at least keep it in our pocket as an option?” Spitfire countered.

Twilight shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Fine,” she replied. “If it looks like it’s the best way to proceed, we’ll have it as an open option.”

With a consensus reached, they made their way further into the mines with Twilight at the point and Spitfire close behind.

The cavern turned out to be just one chamber of a series, linked together by tunnels dug out of solid rock by the industrious earth pony miners that had originally worked this place. The walls still bore the signs of digging, and occasionally they would come across broken or abandoned tools left behind by miners.

The rock formations jutting out of the ground and half-dug pits they came across made their exploration slow goings. The tunnels connecting the chambers sometimes had smaller antechambers that split off into dead ends, and every time they were about to cross one, they would have to cautiously peek around the corners for signs of attack.

They’d just entered a cavern with a ceiling tall enough that Spitfire could have spread her wings if she’d had a light source of her own, when a pitiful mewling sound echoed softly off the walls. Twilight quickly signaled for Spitfire to hold back as she perked her ears. She swiveled them around, listening intently for the sound to repeat itself, just in case her mind was playing tricks on her. It came again, this time a little louder and accompanied by something that sounded like somepony groaning painfully.

Twilight felt Spitfire tapping her flank to get her attention. Spitfire signed that she’d heard the noise, too.

There were several paths branching off from the chamber they were in, but the sound carried well in the nearly silent tunnels, and Twilight quickly pinpointed its source. Twilight made her way towards the sound, dimming her light as much as she could without completely letting the spell die. Too bright of a light would give away their approach, and no light at all would leave them stumbling blindly through a dangerous tunnel with sharp rocks and rusty iron tools everywhere.

As they were getting closer, the moaning had curiously devolved into fitful sobs. That was something Twilight hadn’t expected to hear, and it was surprising enough that she stopped in her tracks.

She felt another gentle tap on her flank as Spitfire drew her attention. She cocked her head questioningly and Spitfire replied by giving the sign for a scout to move forward.

Twilight frowned at that. There was no doubt that Spitfire was referring to the conversation they’d had earlier. Twilight shook her head, denying the suggestion, but Spitfire repeated the sign with a little more force.

She still hated the idea of leaving a friend in total darkness, but Spitfire was right, scouting ahead with her night vision spell was definitely the safest option here. If she blindly announced their presence, whoever they’d stumbled upon might get spooked and run off further into the mines. It was better to approach slowly and get the lay of the land.

Twilight reluctantly signaled agreement and shut off her light completely. By design, casting a night vision spell barely even lit a unicorn’s horn with the usual shimmering magical field. Twilight blinked her eyes a few times, adjusting to the odd sensation of having eyeballs a degree or two warmer than the rest of her body. She scanned around, taking in everything around her. She could see perfectly well, though all the colors she saw were tinted with a soft blue. She turned to Spitfire, and the warmth of her body heat shifted the blueness, coloring the edges of her silhouette and the details of her face with a bright, cheery orange.

Twilight carefully drew her chakram with her teeth, just in case she needed it. It was most effective with some of her magic charged through it, but she could still fling it fairly hard, even without magic. She inched forward, being extra careful to not make any noise. The chamber was a lot like the one that she and Spitfire had found themselves in. It looked natural, but showed signs of digging – some of which was recent. The room was a dead end, and another collapsed tunnel spilled dirt and stones out of the far wall. A mare was sitting upright a few paces away from the ruined tunnel, her face buried in her hooves as she sobbed.

For a moment, Twilight thought they might have found one of the missing ponies, but that excitement was short-lived. This mare was wearing a ball gown and she had flowers woven into her long hair, which meant that she was probably one of the guests from the Gala.

The sound of stone cracking against stone reverberated off the walls from behind Twilight. She looked back to see Spitfire rubbing tenderly at her hoof. A rock was slowly rolling away from the wall nearest her.

The sobbing stopped and the mare called out to them after a few seconds of tense silence. “Hello? Is somepony there?”

Twilight shot a reproachful look at Spitfire. Spitfire, even though she couldn’t see the glare Twilight was leveling at her, had the good grace to look embarrassed.

The crying mare appeared more disoriented than hostile so Twilight sheathed her weapon.

“This is the Royal Guard,” Twilight called as she dropped the night vision and cast her illumination spell. She held her head high and tried to look as authoritative as she could. “Do you require assistance?”

With actual light, Twilight could make out more of the girl’s features. She was actually quite pretty, and had a long pink mane and a yellow coat.

The mare held a hoof over her eyes and turned away from Twilight’s spell. Depending on how long she’d been in the dark, she was probably extremely sensitive to light at the moment. As she turned away, Twilight caught sight of a dark red smear of blood across the side of her face.

“Yes, I do,” the girl quickly replied. “Please help me.”

“Whoa, hold on, I know this chick,” Spitfire said as she stepped out from behind Twilight. “She’s friends with Rainbow Dash, the girl that won this year’s Best Young Flyers competition. She’s one of the Elements of Harmony.”

Twilight blinked. Pink hair, yellow coat, kind of cute…

“Are you Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.

“Y-yes?” Fluttershy answered timidly. “Could you please turn down that light, if you don’t need it to be that bright, that is?”

“Oh, sorry about that,” Twilight apologized as she lowered the intensity of her spell.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said. She lowered her hoof and squinted at Twilight’s face. She was swaying a bit, and had a look in her eyes that made her look vaguely drunk. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Decurion Twilight Sparkle,” Twilight said as she approached the wounded girl. From what she knew about Fluttershy from Shining Armor’s letters, Fluttershy was very skittish around strangers, so she moved slowly.

“Twilight Sparkle?” she repeated. She repeated the name a few more times under her breath like she was trying to recall some distant memory. She gasped in drunken recognition. “Are you Shining and Spike’s sister?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you.” Twilight sat down and took Fluttershy’s face between her hooves to examine her. She turned Fluttershy’s head and found that the blood was coming from a long, shallow cut on her temple. “What happened? How’d you get down here?”

“I-I was in the garden. I know I wasn’t supposed to be, I’m sorry…”

“That’s okay, that doesn’t matter right now,” Twilight assured her with a gentle smile. “Just tell me what happened next.”

“I just wanted to see the kangaroo…” Fluttershy explained. “It’s stupid, but… I snuck out of the Gala to visit the menagerie. There were fewer guards than I thought there would be, so once I was out of the ballroom it was easy. The animals… I don’t think they wanted to be my friends. I kind of got a little carried away when I saw a bunny run into a bush. I jumped in after it and fell down a hole.”

“Why didn’t you just fly out?” Spitfire asked. She was standing watch and squinting into the darkened tunnel behind them.

“Why didn’t you?” Twilight countered as she cast a Lightning Bug spell, immediately bathing the chamber in a soft white glow.

“Because a house fell on top of me,” Spitfire snarked. “Thanks for the light.”

“Are you two fighting?” Fluttershy asked nervously. “Please don’t fight.”

“We’re not fighting, I promise,” Twilight said as she rolled her eyes. “We’re friends. It’s just how we are.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Fluttershy said, visibly relaxing. “Rainbow Dash and Applejack are like that sometimes.”

Twilight used her magic to open Fluttershy’s eyes a little wider so she could check her pupils. “So you fell down a hole,” she said, coaxing more of the story out of her patient. “What next?”

“Well, I did try to stop myself from falling, but my wings got wrapped up in my dress. I hit the ground and slid down here.”

“Is that when you hit your head?” Twilight asked.

“No, that was after. It was dark, so I felt around until I found the tunnel I fell out of. I tried climbing up, but I kicked something hard, and I think it made the tunnel collapse. The ground started rumbling and I couldn’t see, so I got scared and ran back the way I came. I tripped and hit my head on something on the way down.”

“Did you pass out?” Spitfire asked.

“No, I just got really dizzy. After a little while you two showed up. It was maybe ten minutes? I’m not sure, I wasn’t thinking very clearly.”

“You’ve already stopped swaying,” Twilight said as she finished her examination, “so I’m guessing you just had a minor concussion. That can be very dangerous, even if you don’t pass out, so we definitely need to get you out of here as soon as we can so a medic can check you over.”

“A concussion? That makes sense. Why do I feel wet?” Fluttershy wiped at the side of her face, smearing the blood all over her cheek. “Oh, I’m bleeding,” she commented as she stared at her red-stained hoof.

Twilight was impressed by how well Fluttershy was taking that revelation. Most ponies fainted at the sight of blood. Maybe it was just some lingering disorientation making her numb to the sight of her own blood, or maybe this timid girl was made of sterner stuff than Twilight had been led to believe from Shining’s letters.

“Head wounds bleed a lot,” Spitfire commented. “But if Twilight says you’re fine for now, you’re probably okay.”

“I know,” Fluttershy replied. “I take care of a lot of animals. Sometimes they get cuts on their little heads that bleed a lot. You don’t have any disinfectant, do you?”

Twilight shook her head. “We kind of ended up here the same way you did, more or less. I don’t have any first aid supplies. I think we can dress the wound, but I’m afraid we might need to tear up your dress for it.”

Fluttershy’s dress was certainly beautiful, but a few tumbles into a filthy mine shaft and a bleeding head wound had left the fabric somewhat worse for wear. What bits of the dress weren’t covered in dirt and blood were torn, most likely during her blind attempts to escape. Tattered bits of green cloth were hanging from sharp rock formations around the cavern. It was a miracle that poor Fluttershy hadn’t jabbed her eye out or otherwise hurt herself.

Fluttershy sighed as she took her first appraising glance at her dress. “It’s already ruined,” she lamented. “Poor Rarity went through so much trouble to make it, and I destroyed it before the night was even finished… I’ll have to make it up to her later.”

Twilight helped the injured girl stand and used her magic to help her out of her dress. Twilight didn’t wear many fancy outfits, but she’d taken a few off of Cadance once or twice, so it went quickly. A long strip of green cloth was torn from the cleanest part of the dress and wrapped around Fluttershy’s head, only tight enough to staunch the bleeding.

“Set to go?” Spitfire asked. “I don’t like us standing around in one place for too long.”

“Agreed,” Twilight said. “We’ve got Fluttershy now though, so we have to restructure our priorities. Protect the civ, secure another tunnel and get help, find the missing ponies, find the foalnappers – in that order.”

Fluttershy chirped in surprise, turning away from the enormous crystal that she was checking her reflection in. She tilted her head questioningly. “Excuse me, did you just say something about missing ponies and foalnappers?”

Twilight frowned at the question. “Yeah… you ask that like you don’t know anything about it. Princess Cadance sent me a letter that said Shining Armor had been summoned to the castle to fill him in on what was happening. He was supposed to let you all know in case the Elements were needed. Did he not tell you?”

“N-no…” she said, hanging her head sadly. “Is that why Princess Celestia wanted to see him? All he told us was that the garden was going to be closed… Why wouldn’t he tell us something like that…?”

Twilight looked to Spitfire, hoping that her friend might have some idea of what to say, but the other pegasus didn’t have anything to offer beyond her own disapproving frown. That was fair, Twilight supposed. Spitfire seemed to know Rainbow Dash, but apparently she only knew Fluttershy as a friend of a mutual acquaintance. There wasn’t really much that she could say. Twilight wasn’t much in the mood to butt her nose into her brothers’ friendships, either.

“I could make a guess…” Twilight said cautiously, “but you should probably just ask him yourself when we get out of here.”

Fluttershy nodded. She took a deep breath and stood straight, her head held high. “Tell me about these missing ponies. What can I do to help?”

The shy girl’s determination was enough to make Twilight smile. She gave Fluttershy the short version of events to this point, and within minutes they were on the move again.

Despite her enthusiasm, there wasn’t actually much that Fluttershy could do. By her own admission she wasn’t much of a fighter, and when she and her friends went on adventures, she usually just followed everypony else’s lead. Still, she was determined not to be a liability, and followed every instruction she was given.

Twilight took the point again, with Fluttershy behind her and Spitfire bringing up the rear in a protective formation. Fluttershy was a non-combatant, so if it came down to fighting, her job was to run away. She wouldn’t get very far without any light, but at least she could find somewhere to hide.

They made their way through the caverns even more slowly than before. Physical exercise wasn’t very highly recommended for anypony with a concussion, so Twilight did her best to set a pace that wouldn’t tax the poor girl. Fluttershy seemed to be in okay shape, but head injuries weren’t something you wanted to mess around with. Every now and again Twilight made sure to quietly ask Fluttershy if she was okay, listening carefully for any signs of distress – slurring or ragged breathing – that might indicate that her condition was degrading.

On and on they went, mindful of their steps and their ears perked and listening for signs that they weren’t alone. All they could hear was the sound of their own hoofsteps. It was almost more disturbing that they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of anypony else in the mines. The Necropolis may have been an ancient tomb filled with thousands upon thousands of mummified corpses, and crawling with nightmare beasts conjured by the dark magic of a Death God, but at least they’d known for certain that they weren’t alone in that place. These mines were something different altogether. The danger was an expectation that hung in the air, a feeling at the back of her skull that something was wrong, though she didn’t have any tangible proof of it.

There was also the fact that the mines were becoming more labyrinthine. The tunnels stopped dead ending, and instead continued on into other branching tunnels, leading off to other small caverns. It was no longer prudent to explore every tunnel they came across, not when it could get them even more lost than they already were, and Twilight hated how exposed it made her feel. The only thing to do was to just choose tunnels that were sloping upwards, moving closer to the top of the mountain, closer to Canterlot.

They were exiting a tunnel that led into an enormous cavern when they hit their next snag. The cavern had opened up to reveal a wide chasm that bisected the chamber into two halves. A short bit of railroad track with an overturned cart was on their side of the gap, but the bridge that supported the tracks across the divide ended only a few paces out.

“Hold up,” Twilight commanded, raising a hoof to sign her command out of reflex. “I think we might have a problem here.”

Twilight increased the strength of her light and carefully walked up to the ledge. It wasn’t a very long drop, but the pit was lined with jagged crystal formations and sharp looking protrusions. Bits of rotted wood and rusted rail track from the collapsed bridge were scattered across the rocks. It was starting to look like this entire underground system was one big death trap. Even in the modern times, mining was a dangerous job, but Twilight couldn’t even imagine coming to work in a place like this every day.

“Doesn’t look like much of a problem to me,” Spitfire taunted as she rose into the air and hovered above the pit. “Fluttershy and I will do just fine. Looks like you’re going to need us to carry you, though.”

“Um, I’m not a very strong flyer…” Fluttershy said sheepishly. “I don’t think I’ll be much help.”

“That’s fine,” Twilight said dismissively as she backed away from the edge. She tilted her head, eyeballing some measurements and doing the calculations in her head. The bright white light at the tip of her horn was joined by a brilliant pink shimmer of building magic. “How far do you think that gap is? Looks like maybe twenty meters to me.”

“Uh, I guess it looks about that…” Spitfire said, frowning at the question. “Why?”

Twilight broke into a sprint.

She trotted full steam at the chasm, heedless of the shocked protests of her two companions, and leapt into the air with all her strength. Her armor might have been heavy to a pegasus like Spitfire – whose uniform consisted of a spandex unitard and a pair of goggles – but to a Royal Guard who trained in her armor every day, it was just like any other clothing.

Twilight let the arc of her jump carry her as far as it could. The moment she felt herself beginning to fall she released her spell. There was a blinding flash of magic, followed by a split second of darkness as Twilight winked out of existence. The light returned as Twilight rematerialized on the other side of the cavern, landing safely only a pace or two away from the edge. The momentum carried over with the teleportation, and she kicked up a small cloud of dust and ground up crystals as she slid to a stop.

Twilight let out the breath she’d been holding. “Good job breaking your record...” she quietly praised herself.

“When the hay did you learn to do that?” Spitfire demanded as she crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. Fluttershy trailed behind her at a much slower pace.

“It’s useful, right?” Twilight said with a proud grin. “I’ve been working really hard to master teleportation for the last few months. It’s really starting to pay off.”

“If you could do that then what was the deal with that jump?” Spitfire asked, her shock giving way to irritation. “Were you just trying to scare the piss out of us?”

Twilight rubbed at the back of her head sheepishly. “Heh, sorry, I probably should’ve given you some warning, but I was busy running the math in my head. The gap was just a little bit outside my current theoretical maximum range.”

“So if you hadn’t jumped, you would’ve…?” Spitfire made a long, drawn out whistle and mimed with her hooves something falling from the sky and splattering on the ground.

Twilight just shrugged.

“Are you really Spike and Shining’s little sister…?” Fluttershy asked in disbelief.

“That's what mom and dad said,” Twilight replied with a chuckle.

Twilight ignored the odd looks she was getting – Cadance’s queer sense of humor was probably starting to rub off on her – and turned away to once more take point. Spitfire quickly fell back into position at the rear and Fluttershy nervously took her place between them once she realized what they were doing.

Twilight frowned as she surveyed the paths now opened to them. This side of the chasm had several tunnels leading off in different directions, and they were all sloping upwards at more or less the same shallow grade, so her idea to just always pick whichever tunnel moved upwards wasn’t much help in this instance.

In the end, she decided to just follow the tracks as far as they would go. The tracks were for carts that were meant to carry the precious minerals that the miners extricated from the earth, which meant that the tracks all probably started at one of the entrances to the mines. All of the original entrances had been sealed when the operation had been closed down, but lacking any other plan, heading towards the center of the mines was as good a choice as any.

As they wound their way further into the mines, Fluttershy was clearly becoming more and more agitated. Twilight was beginning to suspect that the timid girl might not do well in enclosed spaces, but a glance back at Spitfire showed similar – though less pronounced – signs of ill-ease. Maybe it was a pegasus thing.

Twilight’s eyes met with Fluttershy’s for a moment, and she could read the look of dread as clear as day.

“I really don’t like this place…” Fluttershy muttered. Her voice was almost pleading. “It’s dark, and spooky, and I feel like something might jump out at any second…”

“I’ll admit that I’m not much of a fan, either,” Spitfire agreed. She was trying to keep her voice light, like she was making a joke, but there was an undercurrent of discomfort that Twilight managed to pick up on.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Twilight said. She directed the statement to Fluttershy, but said it loudly enough that her words would carry clearly back to Spitfire. Carrying a conversation definitely wasn’t tactically advisable, but experience told her that that was secondary to reassuring her companions. “Believe it or not… I’ve been in a situation like this before… and what I took away from that experience was that being afraid is a good thing.”

“How can being afraid be a good thing?” Fluttershy asked. “My friend Pinkie Pie taught me that you should laugh your fears away if you get too scared.”

“Lots of ponies use humor to cope with stress,” Twilight conceded. “I do it myself, sometimes.” She jerked her head in Spitfire’s direction. “Spitfire does it constantly. But the thing is, fear is perfectly natural. It’s your body telling you that you’re in danger. It’s all of your senses screaming at you that something is wrong. Fear and pain are tools that you can use, as long as you don’t let them control you.”

“That’s easy for you to say…” Fluttershy mumbled sadly. “I’m not a soldier like you and Captain Spitfire… I’m not brave at all…”

“You’re scared, but your hooves are still moving, aren’t they?” Twilight pointed out as she tossed a reassuring grin over her shoulder. “Believe me, sometimes the bravest thing you can do is to just keep walking forward, one step at a time.”

Fluttershy nodded, trying to return the grin with one of her own. Her smile was a little shaky, and her cheeks looked a little flush, but Fluttershy was holding her head higher, and that was what mattered.

The musty smell of dry earth was soon replaced by something with a tinge of copper in it. Twilight pulled up short, her nostrils flaring as she deeply inhaled the acrid scent.

“What’s wrong?” Spitfire asked. Her face went sour as she finally caught a whiff of what Twilight had smelled. “Son of a… is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah, that’s blood,” Twilight said, a little ashamed at how easily she was able to place the scent. “We need to check it out.”

Spitfire nodded grimly, but Fluttershy was shaking her head desperately. Twilight turned to the shyer of the two pegasi – making sure to keep an eye open for trouble – and gave her a tap on the shoulder. “We have to do it, Fluttershy. We need to find out what’s going on down here. Can I trust you to keep walking?”

Fluttershy mouth opened wordlessly a few times. The only sound she could make was a stifled choking noise, like whatever she wanted to say was physically stuck in her throat. After a few attempts, she managed a shuddering sigh that seemed to knock loose whatever was stuck inside her.

“If… if you really think we need to… I’ll be fine. I can be brave, just like you said.”

“Good girl,” Twilight said as she gave Fluttershy another gentle tap on the shoulder. “Just keep walking and I promise I’ll get you home to your friends. Shining Armor wouldn’t be too happy with me if I let one of the girls in his harem get hurt.”

As she watched Fluttershy flush an almost violent shade of red, Twilight wondered again if maybe Cadance wasn’t rubbing off on her a little too much. Even Spitfire was sporting a grin at the joke.

They followed the trail to a fork in the path. The tracks veered off to the left, and to the right was another darkened tunnel, the same as the countless others they’d wandered through. Twilight lifted her nose and sniffed. The smell was strongest coming from the tunnel on the right.

“This way,” she whispered as she led her group down the correct path.

They didn’t have to travel far before they realized that something was glowing in the chamber ahead. Twilight hadn’t noticed it in the glare of her own illumination spell until Fluttershy pointed it out. Twilight levitated her weapon out of its holster, letting it hang in the air above her, poised and at the ready.

The light turned out to be from crystals that were still half buried in the walls. Somepony had enchanted them to shine with a serviceably bright white glow, and Twilight almost wished that they hadn’t. She wasn’t squeamish, not after all she’d seen, but the sight that awaited her as she stepped into the brightly lit cavern was enough to make her feel nauseous.

The ground was stained with something that smelled an awful lot like blood, but the color was all wrong. Instead of the dark black of spilled blood, the ground was tinted a deep emerald color. Scattered around the room were formless piles of black, lumpy flesh that oozed with the strange green fluid.

“Sun above…” Spitfire whispered.

Fluttershy didn’t say anything. She just stood there, trembling like a leaf, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Twilight shook off the last of the initial shock and dropped her unnecessary illumination spell as she strode into the room. The blood had pooled in places where the ground was uneven, and the sound of Twilight’s shoes splashing in the liquid coaxed a terrified little squeak out of Fluttershy. Twilight ignored it and went to the nearest of the fleshy piles.

Up close, the… meat… was a greasy onyx color, and had a texture like the leather that griffons were sometimes known to make. It was fairly large, too – perhaps just a bit larger than a watermelon.

She prodded at the veiny mass with her chakram, using it as a probe to get a better look at the substance. It was strange. This was definitely some kind of meat, but even torn apart, she should’ve been able to at least guess at what it used to be.

“What is all this?” Spitfire asked.

“I’m not sure…” Twilight admitted. “Whatever this is… it’s not equine…”

She turned back to the rest of her group. Spitfire was wide-eyed and alert, licking her lips nervously, while Fluttershy stood stock-still, tears still falling down her face. Twilight hated herself for what she was about to say.

“Fluttershy, I need your help.”

“No,” Fluttershy said, shaking her head in fear. She backed up until her rump was pressed against the wall.

“Yes, Fluttershy,” Twilight gently urged her. “I know this is scary, but my brother told me that you know animals, and I need your help to figure out what happened here. Those missing ponies we were looking for? They might be down here and… whatever all of this is, it’s a clue. The more I know, the more I can do to help.”

Fluttershy closed her eyes, her head shaking almost violently as she chanted under her breath. “No, no, no, no…”

She continued chanting her refusal even as she stepped forward, one hoof in front of the other. She froze the moment her hoof landed in a puddle with a wet splash. She filled her lungs with a sharp, almost gasping breath. For a moment, Twilight was afraid that Fluttershy might run away, but yet again the demure pegasus surprised her.

Fluttershy opened her eyes and stepped forward, splashing through the gore with steely determination in her eyes. She walked right up and began prodding at the mass with a stained hoof. She narrowed her eyes appraisingly and leaned closer to sniff at the object, the end of her long mane dipping into the slime as she did so.

“This is some sort of egg,” Fluttershy explained clinically. “The outer membrane’s been cut open, but I’m not sure what it was done with. It was probably sharp, though, to cleanly press through such thick skin.”

“So you’ve seen something like this before?” Twilight asked.

“No,” Fluttershy admitted. She flicked her tail, sending flecks of the nasty fluid into the air. “But this green stuff? It mostly smells like blood, but there’s also a hint of something salty and sweet in it, so I think it might be some kind of albumen.”

Twilight blinked. “Egg white?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Nutrients for whatever was inside. The eggs were punctured and all the fluid spilled out.” She thrust out her arm, sweeping over the room. There were dozens of the punctured egg sacs lying around – enough for an army. “There are a lot of eggs, so there’s a lot of fluid.”

“And you’re sure they were cut open? They didn’t hatch on their own?”

Fluttershy walked a few paces away, towards another of the eggs. She poked at it for a few moments before nodding. “Definitely didn’t hatch on their own,” Fluttershy confidently declared.

The sound of more splashing hoofsteps drew their attention back to Spitfire. Even in the whitewash of the artificial light, Twilight could tell that Spitfire looked a little pale.

“So something was down here laying eggs the size of a stallion’s head?” Spitfire asked. “That’s not disturbing at all.”

“Not compared to the fact that something else came along and ate them,” Twilight pointed out.

Spitfire grimaced. “Fair point… So, Fluttershy, you sure you don’t have any clue what these are?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “None at all. I couldn’t even begin making a guess.”

“Try making one anyway,” Spitfire encouraged.

Fluttershy frowned and returned to poking at the fleshy mass. She rolled it over, spilling out what was left of the fluid inside.

“I… I don’t know…” she sighed. “Maybe some kind of insect? I don’t know any insects this big, though.”

Twilight looked to Spitfire, and Spitfire looked back. From the look in her eyes, it appeared that Spitfire was having the same idea that she was.

“Do changelings lay eggs?” Spitfire asked.

“Yeah,” Twilight replied. “Like I said, they’re more insect than pony.”

“Think this could be them, then?”

“Maybe…” Twilight flicked the gore off her chakram, but didn’t put it away. It didn’t take any magic to keep out, anyway. “I can’t say for sure, though. I know they lay eggs, but I’ve never seen any pictures of what they look like. I can tell you, though, that if these are changeling eggs, that means there’s a queen around here somewhere.”

“A queen?”

“Again, they’re more insect than pony.”

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” Fluttershy interrupted, “but what’s a changeling?”

“From what I was told,” Spitfire began explaining, “they’re some kind of shape-shifting insect creature that feeds off of love. They pretend to be somepony and drink their fill out of their loved ones, then make for the hills.”

“That sounds horrible,” Fluttershy said with a shake of her head. “Still… nothing deserves to have its children eaten like this.”

Twilight could somewhat agree with that, but that sympathy only went so far. Changelings were supposedly intelligent creatures, and the argument could be made that something like this was beyond boundaries of common decency. Still, everything Twilight had ever read about changelings painted them as cold, hungry things – for lack of a better word. They were pests, con-artists that swindled something precious out of unsuspecting victims – and that was when they were just harmlessly siphoning off small amounts of love over the course of an afternoon. This particular group of changelings was most probably a hive of serial foalnappers, and it was hard to feel sympathy for anything that would sink so low.

“Let’s not forget that they also might have been responsible for the twenty-nine missing ponies we’ve been looking for,” Twilight pointed out. “This is… obscene, but we if we come across a changeling, we can’t pull any punches.”

Fluttershy hung her head in what Twilight could only guess was resignation. Fluttershy, from all she’d heard, was the sort of gentle soul that always looked for the best in everything – even twisted, vampiric monsters that foalnapped children to feed on their parents. She would probably rather hug a changeling than chain it up and banish it to the furthest reaches of the badlands.

Twilight decided to have a look around for any clues as to what might have been responsible for this. She began pacing around the room, scanning the floor and kicking aside the muck as she went. Spitfire seemed to have caught the gist of what she was doing and started doing the same, while Fluttershy just took to the air, floating a few paces off the ground and trying to flick away the green ichor that had stained all their hooves.

Twilight was half away across the room when her nostrils flared. Another very faint scent was hiding under the coppery stink of the burst egg sacs. Something was rotting nearby – something other than the recently disturbed eggs.

“Spitfire, you’ve got light here,” Twilight said, jerking her head towards the ceiling where the largest of the crystals pulsed with light. “There’s something I want to check out, so I’m scouting ahead. You cover Fluttershy.”

Spitfire looked up and cocked her head questioningly. She lifted her chin slightly, as if to ask what was up.

“It might be nothing, and it’ll only take a second,” Twilight explained evasively. There wasn’t any reason to freak them out just yet.

Her fellow soldier didn’t look too pleased, but she nodded her understanding all the same. “Don’t take too long, Twi, this place is nasty.”

“Be very careful, Twilight, please,” Fluttershy softly pleaded, her eyes shining with concern.

Twilight sniffed again, following the scent trail further into the cavern, past the range of the artificial light in the egg room. She cast her illumination spell, making it as bright as she could without blinding herself. She added a second layer under the spell, weaving in a fire conjuring spell that could be triggered at a moment’s notice, just in case she needed a more offense-oriented lighting solution.

When she found the body, it was curled up in a ball on the ground. It was a griffon, possibly male, though it was difficult to tell given the state of decomposition. Most of its feathers and fur had fallen out, and the sickly pallor of its skin reflected the light of her spell with a pale luminescence. Its eyes were wide and clouded, a bloated tongue lolling out of its open beak. The ground was moist and darkened from soaking up the pungent effluence. The smell coming off of it was enough to make her gag.

In hindsight, having the others wait behind had definitely been the right choice.

Twilight fought down her revulsion and began examining the cadaver. The claws, paws, and beak of the griffon were all stained the same shade of green as the fluid back in the egg chamber. The skin of the griffon’s belly had split open, revealing a swollen, distended stomach sac. During putrefaction, gasses built up inside the body, but Twilight would have wagered a month of pay that it wasn’t just methane in this thing’s stomach.

In all likelihood, this griffon was probably what had torn into those eggs, and that thought only made Twilight frown. That just didn’t track. Conditions in the mine were surprisingly dry, and being underground meant that the cavern was actually quite cool – two conditions that went a very long way towards staving off decomposition. Given the state of decay she was seeing, and the environmental conditions in the mine, this griffon had to have died weeks ago – it couldn’t have been what ate those eggs.

Twilight spun around quickly and made her way back towards her friends, cranking up the light of her horn just a few more notches. This whole thing was becoming a nesting doll of problems, but one thing was very clear – they needed to get topside ASAP.


* * *