The Search in Winsome Falls

by Comma Typer

An End

Inside a tent, under its surrounding canopy: a light, a few papers, a blueprint, and Flim and Flam—eyes restricted, panic-driven hooves, mouth pursed into something resembling a calm and collected smile. It was also cramped inside—even at their farthest, they had barely any space to move their hooves around.

"They haven't reported back at all, brother," Flim said—intimidated. "How could they have gotten past that many ponies? Most of them were Earth ponies! They're supposed to be strong enough to beat them up senseless!"

"We may have not accounted for their ability to not be outsmarted," Flam said, "but that's going to cut into our return on investment."

Flim sighed. "So much for trusting in the short-term plan. What was that they told us again? They had a...medal?"

"Ah! Didn't he say that it's proof? They're sent by Princess Luna herself."

"Now, I remember...it's still not helping, brother, knowing that a Princess is on to us!"

Flam placed a firm hoof on his brother's shoulder. "Flim, keep your composure! Shh!"

Both ponies held their ears up to the tent's ceiling.

Only the wind and several hoofsteps and a few construction noises.

"Don't assume the worst, brother!" Flam said. "For all we know, they're probably just taking a little longer to get those ponies straight to us! What's the use of worrying like there's no tomorrow when we have it all under wraps?"

"But...brother," Flim said, doubtful and halting in his words, "this is not according to the plan. I know that they might have captured the intrusive pests...but I have feeling that there's a really bad reason why they're not here, yet."

"Aww, don't be so—"

"They're Earth ponies, so they should be running here by now, but they aren't here!" Flim said. "If they catch up to us, where else will we hide? If they have a direct line to one of the Princesses, those ponies will wait until, what, the royal guards come in here?"

"Pshaw! You mean the incompetent royal guards?" Flam then threw an imaginary object into the air.

"Not incompetent against us!" Flim replied, pointing to himself—a nervous frown now on his face.

"Who else will they—"

"Those Elements of Harmony?!"

"Maybe they're in the middle of—"

"How do you know, brother?!" Flim yelled, pointing a hoof at him.

Flam gulped.

"We haven't received any news straight from Ponyville! Nor anywhere else for that matter except for that small town just outside!"

"Even if we did, the news would soon be outdated in several hours." Then, once again, placing a hoof on his brother, he said, "Relax. It's all going to be OK, brother! If it does come to the worse, we always have our back-up at the ready."

Flim sighed, downcast. He took on his straw hat. "Well, here we go."

The two stood up and exited the tent, leaving the light on.

"How's your back-up going, brothers?" Wakey asked.

"Agh!"

The tent fell down—revealing the rest of the crew: Watts Onion, Isobar, Dally News, Boiled Sweets, and Five Lines who then proceeded to surround Flim and Flam.

Flim shivered, though Flam took on a haughty face. "There must be a misunderstanding here!" Flam said, taking off his straw hat. "You see—"

"Intruders!" a pony yelled.

And the construction team—and everypony else who was busy with the Winsome Resort—charged at the "intruders."

---

"So, about leaving only a hoofful of ponies back at this place," Isobar said, holding his lofty head high as he strutted around the two brothers—who were now tied up against each other with rope—"let me tell you that it's—how should I phrase this?—a bad idea."

Flim and Flam—constrained in their captivity—gulped. Flim shot a glance at his brother. "I knew that this was gonna happen yet we didn't properly prepare for it!"

"Well, you should've at least articulated it more clearly!" Flam shot back. "I thought you were just having a nonsensical anxiety attack! It turns out that your suspicions weren't completely unfounded!"

"They were founded on believable doubts!"

"If you doubted any other time, then we would've failed our schemes! It was confidence in our work that made us successful in the first place!"

"You can stop the bickering," Dally News said as she levitated a baton and raised it up.

The six ponies were around the captured unicorns in their striped shirts, fancy bowties, and straw hats.

"I guess that's the end of your conniving and scheming!" Onion said—giddily, displaying a set of bright teeth to the brothers. "How do you like the taste of desserts?!"

"Uh, it's 'just desserts,'" Isobar said after a hearty groan.

Then, a kick to Flam's face. "Ow, what was that—"

"That's for ruining my family business!" Boiled Sweets yelled.

Then, a music stand to Flim's head.

"And that's for throwing me out of your group like I'm not alive! I have feelings, you know! I can feel that I have a heartbeat and that I can walk on the grass and can swim a river and make a hat and climb up the social ladder of hats to lead the society of hattery—you, out of all ponies, know that the best!"

"What?" Flim responded.

"Don't you deny your knowledge about the Society of Hats!" Five Lines said, putting his music stand on his head and balancing it. "I've seen you in the meetings!"

Everypone else exchanged confused looks and sincere shrugs.

"He was moderately kooky while he was under our—"

Then, a music stand thrown at Flam.

"Hey, that was true!"

"That's what you want to think!" Five Lines said.

Wakey jumped right between the attacker and the attacked. "Let's not get too rough on each other here, alright? We can solve whatever disputes we have with each other in a civil manner."

Flim looked down and sighed once more.

Flam kept up that confident face and pose despite his tied down position.

Onion walked up to them, the rest watching him with his attempt at being earnest and somber about the matter—but, a few giggles escaped from his mouth.

"Uh, what's so funny?" Five Lines asked.

"Nothing's funny," Onion said, stopping his walk to face him. "I can't believe we're finally here!"

"What do you mean by that?" Flam asked, retaining his arrogant accent.

Then, Onion jumped straight to him.

Flam was unfazed for his face remained that straight. Flim, meanwhile, shuddered even more.

"Because, after we finish all this questioning and interrogating stuff, we can call the royal guards, let them fix this up, go home, and then we'll be honored as some heroes of Equestria!"

Flam smirked. "Heroes who've detained respectable business—"

"We have tons of witnesses!" Onion interrupted.

"I can blame it on collusion," Flam said. "I can blame it on the theory that you conspired against poor us."

"Explain the illegal deforestation!" Onion yelled, pointing a hoof at the fallen trees near the river—a bit far off from where the ponies were.

"I can say that we had the papers."

"What if we refuse to bring the papers?"

"The judge will demand that you bring in all evidence, whether it incriminates us or you."

"What about Boiled Sweets and Five Lines?" Onion pressed.

"Of course, they'll lie about us—they want to give us a bad name. Probably have some personal feud with us even if that feud is, itself, illegal and useless as a grounds for imprisoning us!"

"Do you have lawyers?" Onion asked.

"You have no idea how we work," Flam said, smirking once again.

Onion took a step back. He looked back. "Uh, guys? I don't like the sound of this? Are you sure we did this thing right?"

"You're already faltering?!" Boiled Sweets cried out. "You yourself have seen their henchponies ransack my precious candy shop! They're the same ones who dragged me out and they're the same ones you saw today in the forest! Besides, who else sends guards to Winsome Falls?!"

"And they thought that my idea of innovative music was no good!" Five Lines shouted.

"Hey, let's keep it civil, remember?" Wakey said, sweat pouring down her face.

Boiled Sweets growled but stood down. Five Lines, on the other hoof, planted his music stand on the ground and stood by it, observing Flim and Flam as they still sat there tied up.

Onion then raised a hoof—and made a smile.

Flim gulped at that sight.

"Do you wanna know what I remember about you two?" Onion asked, clasping his front hooves.

"What is it, then?" Flam asked. "Spit it out!"

"You've had a long history," Onion answered.

Flim gulped again—now nervously laughing.

"Being inconsiderate of Applejack and her family when you got Sweet Apple Acres for even just a few moments—and only because you cheated your way to victory by not thinking of quality! Then, you fooled tons of sick ponies—ponies who were looking to you not as salesponies but their rescuers from a robbing disease—you abused their hopes in you just to make quick cash! After that, when Applejack and Fluttershy came to help you out there in Las Pegasus—they gave you a new lease on your brotherly relationship with each other and what did you repay them with? You ended up manipulating their friendship to you for your own personal gain, still going on that route of conning innocent ponies out of their hard-earned bits!"

Onion huffed.

Silence save for the breathing, the wind.

Flim covered his ears, shuddering and shaking and shivering.

A bead of sweat rolled down Flam's face.

"When will your conscience get to you?!" Onion yelled. "When we bring you up to court—the royal court, nonetheless!—" and here, he pulled out his identifying medal "—there won't be a shortage of witnesses that will scream at you for the horrible crimes you've committed against them. They'll be ruthless at you, will do anything to get a hit at you, but I cannot blame them—could you?"

A tear down Flim's cheek—hid his face behind a hoof.

"These ponies trusted in you for honest, genuine, sincere help! They trusted in you as friends! You know, friendship, that magical thing that bonds and binds us together in harmony! I don't want to know what the Princesses themselves have to say about you—about you—" pointing an accusing, final hoof at them "—treating friendship like it was nothing, nothing more than a tool to further your own ends!"

Seething anger—heavier, faster breathing; shrunken irises, glowing horn.

"I won't be surprised if you go to jail and stay there for thirty years! That will show you what breaking those hearts meant to those harmless and simple ponies you've conned through all this time! See how all the ponies you've destroyed feel about you right now!"

A stomp on the ground.

The howling wind.

Watching friends.

Lonely trees, rushing river, falling waterfalls and rainbow falls.

A hushed whimper.

Flam's held-up head—now sunken low.

Onion smiled. "I think we did it guys." He turned around to see his friends. "We did it! We caught some criminals and solved the mystery!"

The ponies there cheered, raised their hooves, and congratulated each other—shaking each other's hooves, thanking each other and "You're welcome-ing" each other, patting each other on the head or torso for a job well done.

"Uh, did I miss something?"

Everypony looked at the source of the voice.

A lanky mailpony—for he was in his blue uniform and cap, also holding a box—was there. "It looks like I missed something. And, where's the post office building...thing?" A pause as he looked around. "Are you the renovators?"

---

It was sunset. In the orange sky, the rainbow falls took on a magnificent property: they glittered that sunlight even for just a brief moment and even when one was at a specific spot somewhere—for only the correct angle would bring about that valuable spectacle of organic wonder.

The waterfalls and the rivers, too, glittered in the orange sunlight, still flowing with its crisp, fresh, transparent water. The trees—only a few them were gone—swayed under the breeze which brought in the coolness (part of it from the waters nearby).

The mountains, at the last hours of the day, were revelling in their closing minutes of towering, dominating regality—for, when the night comes, they would be shrouded in silhouettes that would only show to the average pony the outlines—the incomplete sketches—of their otherwise full beauty and strength.

On the ground, the royal guards filled the clearing, tearing down the construction work to a rubble that would then be cleaned up, planting a few saplings and young trees to replace their departed fellows, and rebuilding the post office kiosk with the broken materials that had been laid to the side.

"You go home now, everypony," one of the guards said, raising a wing and ushering the six ponies off. "Thank you all for your service to Equestria—just leave the rest of the work here to us."

And the six said fared the guards well as they left Winsome Falls and went back into the forest.

---

"Wake up."

Snoring.

"Wake up."

Snoring.

"Wake up!"

"Augh!"

And Onion fell off of the cart, crashing onto solid ground with all its dirt.

"You could've at least warned me, Isobar!"

"What else can I warn you with?" Isobar replied, laughing after that. "I can't just give you a note—you wouldn't be awake to read it, anyway?"

"A simple poke would do, thank you very much!"

"Good thing he's a pegasus," Wakey said. "If I was the one who woke up, you might as well wake up to the sound of windows shattering."

"Why? Because you're gonna throw me to some house?"

"I'm not that far from doing that, really," Wakey said. She pointed a hoof over there.

And, over there, where Onion looked, was Pace once again under the night sky with its moon and its stars. It was a crowd of lights clumped together, being as if beacons in the middle of the sea, emanating their bright yellow rays on to their surroundings.

"Ah, sweet home!" Boiled Sweets yelled. "Finally, my family won't have to worry about me any longer!"

Then, he ran off, galloping ahead of the ponies with their cart.

"Huh," Onion let out. "That's curious."

"I understand him," Wakey said. "What would you do if you were estranged from your family for even just one day?"

Onion merely nodded.

"Hey, Five Lines!" Isobar called out to the music stand-carrying pony. "You wanna stay with us for the night? You're quite the pony to talk to."

"Why, yes, I am so, like I believe everypony else is quite a pony to talk to!" Five Lines said, shaking Isobar's wing and nodding rapidly. "Here—" he pulled out a piece of paper "—is a list of all the music that I plan to write out from animals!"

Isobar took it with his wing and read it. "What?"

Five Lines took it back. "It's a mystery to all but I—think of it as a problem that won't be solved until somepony solves it!"

"Isn't that how—"

"You'll solve it, anyhow!" he said, smiling.

Laughter from the rest of the ponies, mingling with the owls' hoots and the crickets' chirps and, soon, the murmurings in Pace.

---

The welcoming of these to-be heroes was not distinguished with impressive pomp and circumstance—with brass and horns sounding kingly notes to top it all of. Rather, it was distinguished by its sheer humility and modesty. There were no renowned figures in attendance other than the mayor himself—and even he relegated himself to the back of the crowd, turning his face away from the celebratees being showered with plain cheer.

Almost all of the ponies of the town were out on the streets—as could be seen by the lack of ponies inside most of the buildings there no matter how much one would peer through the windows whether wide or narrow. Though there was no music, the hurrah was more than enough—Wakey and Dally waved shyly, Isobar merely smiled and nodded at those who dared to move forward and be within a meter of their presence, and Boiled Sweets had gone out to his family—over there, at the corner of the sidewalk, there was the candy pony scruffing up the manes of his son and of his daughter—both awash in tears; and, there, too, was his wife—a yellow mare with curled mane, bringing them all into a single embrace. Five Lines left the procession, too—look over there at the bridge to and away from Pace, hanging over, and one can see Five Lines journeying the dirt road and entering the hilly forest, whistling his way toward Fourbeat with his music stand slung around his body.

That left Watts Onion who was taking pleasure in all that was being given him—"You saved our town!" "Yeah, you show those two conponies who's boss around here!" "Three cheers for them, anypony?" "Stay here! We'll serve you up a 'Welcome Back' pancake blowout!" On these were added little gifts—trinkets and souvenirs like a necklace, a watch, a wooden craft of some sort, and a few bags of bits—hoofed out by several obviously thankful residents who had on their faces wide smiles and from out of their mouths endless amounts of phrases that substituted for the short phrase "Thank you!"

And so, there were four ponies left—the original four.

After several more minutes of the celebration, the four were guided back into the house of Cream Glaze and Batter Sugar—and their lights were just as bright as the rest of the houses there. The couple led them inside.

With that, all the festivity was over, the ponies left outside scattering about back to their jobs or their homes—though the talk of the town was still about the great victory over Flim and Flam and the town's newfound heroes.

---

Back in that furnished bedroom—that familiar scent before the unfamiliar, now back to what's here.

The four ponies entered the bedroom with wide smiles and sighs of relief.

"Whoo!" Isobar yelled, high-fiveing the mares' hooves with his wing and then Onion's with his own hoof. "That could've gotten far worse, but we did it! How was it?"

"Great!" Onion shouted. "Who knew personally working for the Princess was that fun?"

"Yeah," Dally said, levitating a book closer to her, "but—that was a lot to take in for a single day." She rotated the book around and flipped the pages—all with her magic. "I need to have a break, right, Wakey?"

She shot a glance at her.

"Right, Dally," Wakey answered as she trotted to her bed—and yawned.

Dally sat on a chair beside Wakey's bed and flipped the pages to the first; then, she adjusted her glasses once more, squinted at the small text, and read.

Onion trotted his way to the table, floated a pad of paper and a quill—eyeing the inkwell which was almost full, close to overflowing.

"Already?" Isobar blurted out, annoyed with a lowered eyebrow.

"I have two letters to write tonight," Onion answered in an assuring voice—a twirl of the hoof to add to his words. "A report to Princess Luna—and I bet she's going to be ecstatic that we neutralized the conponies! All she has to wait for now is for the guards to—hopefully—return with them in custody—and to think we're the ponies who finally took those conponies down! Applejack could've done it, she and Fluttershy together could've done it, all the Elements could've done it! But it ws us who dealt the final blow to their evil plans!"

"Heh," Isobar blabbed. "You don't sound worried at all."

"Why would I be?" Onion asked back, stretching his forehooves wide. "All I know is, we did it and we'll have another small procession and celebration and whatever over in Canterlot. A ceremony—overseen by Princess Luna herself." He let out a sigh. "Imagine that!"

Isobar loosened up his irritated face and played a smile on his lips. "Yeah. I'm getting to like that outlook of yours—good thing we suffered through all the preparing pains of the trip. I think it's totally worth it—to bond together over a hoofful of days in some short, sweet adventure."

"And, we're going to wake up to a pancake feast tomorrow morning before they all send us off to Canterlot!"

Isobar nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I get it—you went from being just an onion farmer to an onion farmer who defeated two of the best—or worst—conponies in modern Equestrian history."

A firm hoof on his shoulder.

"Just a piece of advice, Onion: Don't let it get to your head. Some ponies don't like it when you swagger around even if you do deserve it."

And, Isobar pulled out a book.

"Also, I got this from somepony here during the whole shindig back there. His voice sounded very familiar—whoever that was, he wanted to give this to you when he figured out you liked Daring Do."

Onion grabbed the book.

It was wrapped in plastic and was in mint condition. The pages had no damage or even obvious age to them—they were as white as a page could ever be. The cover itself was unscathed and unbroken—all complete with no discolor or scratches.

On the cover was that famous adventuring arcahaeologist narrowly escaping the jaws of some alligators. She was holding some kind of ancient statue with her hoof.

"A first edition copy of 'Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone'?!" Onion yelled.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah!" Isobar raised his hoof and lowered his eyebrow once more. "Don't let it get to your head—just be you. You deserve it. And, as for me—" He yawned and stretched his wings "—I'm going to call it an early night. Don't make too much noise and see you in the morning, OK?" He looked at the mares. "You, too, alright? I wanna get as many hours as possible."

He did not say anymore for he fast went to sleep—even went fast to snoring.

Onion looked away from the group and back to the table with the pad of paper.

He held the book in his hoof.

He placed it down.

"Two letters," Onion whispered.

He levitated a quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and wrote on the paper:

"Dear Mom, Dad, Chutney, Forecast, and Bulb,..."