Chapter 1: It Begins

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The early morning sun poured its first rays over Twilight Sparkle's window. Slowly, the growing puddle of light splashed around the library, covering the floor and furniture in its warm glow. It was morning in Ponyville, same time every day without fail. The light crept up to Spike's bed, only to be greeted with a grunt as the little dragon pulled his bedsheets over his head. It made its way to Twilight's bed, and with a small and delicate whisper the natural alarm clock woke Twilight up.

The sun always woke her up. After all, who else in all of Equestria knew the sun as intimately as Twilight? And who did the sun know more intimately than Twilight herself? Slowly, and a bit groggy from her sleep, the librarian pony started her day. She had a job to do, she had an assignment, and she had responsibilities. That was enough to get her out of bed every day.

However, something other than the light rose that morning. She could hear it outside. It was hustle and bustle, the faint sound of wood and steel hitting against each other, ponies talking amongst each other, the noise of a busy afternoon so early in the morning.

"What is going on out there?" she thought.

A quick glance at her calendar showed no special days marked, no national holidays, no visits from any important pony, nothing. Twilight prided herself in keeping track of Ponyville's affairs, even though she sometimes couldn't muster up the courage to show up to the more social celebrations. This was something new, something she had not planned for, and this worried her.

In a hurry, she did the absolute minimum to prepare herself for this special unknown day, although to be honest she did this too often on normal days. 30 seconds combing her mane, 60 seconds brushing her teeth, a few more seconds getting her coat in order, nothing too fancy.

"Spike! I'm headed out to see what's going on outside. Open up the library at 10. I'll be back as soon as i can."
The lump in the little bed shifted from one side to the other. Good enough.

Outside was quite the sight. Almost all of Ponyville was out and about. Ponies running back and forth, carrying crates of fruits and breads, flowers and candies, confetti and balloons. Some sort of pavilion was being built in the distance in the center of town, the sounds of hammering and manual labor echoing across the streets. There were ponies on roofs, hanging up streamers, ponies on the floors, decorating the streets, ponies everywhere, working in a manner twilight had never seen before. This was strange. Actually, it was extraordinarily strange. This was the same town who couldn't get their act together for something as important as the Winter Wrap-Up, but so much has been done before even the sun finished rising.

Twilight was surprised, but she was a bit relieved to have so quickly found the source of the hubbub outside. No, wait, she wasn't. She actually grew more concerned. This wasn't right at all. This is completely out of character for this town.

"I have to find out what's going on."

In the center of town, twilight approached a familiar face. Applejack was putting the finishing touches on what looked like a stand, obviously meant to sell apples or apple related products. A big ol' bright smile beamed across her face, she was obviously proud of her work.

"Hi, Applejack." Twilight raised a hoof in greeting.

"Well if it isn't Twilight Sparkle! Nice of you to join in with the construction. We could really use a hoof or two. Or four. Right now though, its time for this gal to take a break." Applejack casually trotted over to a big orange cooler placed on the tailgate of a nearby cart. There was a stack of paper cups on the side. Applejack grabbed one and poured some of the drink into it. Looking at Twilight, she then poured another glass.

"You want some, sugarcube? Its some of the best cider we've got. A special recipe. A bit strong if you're not used to it but hoo boy does it clear your head. Nothing but the best, saved just for today."

"Actually, Applejack, I'm a bit lost. What's going on around here." Twilight was visibly confused, but she reached out for the cup anyway. She wasn't about to pass up on this so-called "best cider," especially one Applejack recommends. The liquid in the cup was remarkably dark, and the aroma was unusually spicy. Swirling it around left a bit of a residue and streaks on the sides, but twilight couldn't determine if this cider actually had legs or it was merely just the paper cup.

"Wow, Twi! Aren't you the one supposed to be in the know? Its Hunter's Day! This is the new hunter's welcoming party."

"A party? For hunters? When does it start?" The cider's spices slowly wafting all over twilight's snout.

"It's already started. All day. Today's the day he'll come back, we just don't know at what time." Applejack took a giant swig from her cup, pretty much drinking all of it in one quick motion, and started to pour more into it.

"Who? A hunter? Here? Today?" All this new information rattled around in Twilight's head, and the cup of cider distracting her wasn't helping in the slightest.

"What do ya mean, 'a hunter?' OUR hunter, the guy right there."

Applejack pointed at the statue in the center of town square. It was a simple bronze statue of a pony on its hind legs, kicking into the air. Strangely enough, Twilight had never paid any attention to it, despite it being right there in front of the town hall. It was on a very small pedestal, and the statue itself wasn't too big, just about the normal size of a regular pony in the same pose. On close inspection, there was a small plaque on the base, and it just said "Welcome Home." Was this the title of the statue? Was it some quote from the pony the statue represented?

A smirk crossed twilight's face as she considered the possibility of "Welcome Home" being the actual pony's name, which admittedly, isn't too far fetched.

"Hey twi, you gonna drink that?" interrupted Applejack, her own cup empty once more.

"Oh right, sorry." Twilight raised the cup and took a drink.

Every day, Twilight tries to sum up her experiences and write a letter based on what she learned about friendship. Today, so early in the morning, she learned that when one of her friends, a particularly orange colored apple cider enthusiast friend, tells her a certain type of cider is "a bit strong," she means something else entirely.

The rest of the day was somewhat of a blur. The sun rose higher, more ponies gathered, booths popped up and the cider poured barrels at a time. There were games and competitions, pies were eaten very quickly, pigs were oiled and chased. Twilight could have sworn she saw spike being chased by foals with cardboard swords. Pegasi had races overhead, earth pony bands played music in the pavilion, and ponies danced to the sounds of chirping birds, courtesy of Fluttershy. It was a very fun day, a welcome break from the norm, and for once in her life, Twilight did not feel anxious or nervous having fun with so many ponies around. To be honest, with a couple more drinks Twilight couldn't feel a lot more than just her nerves, but she didn't mind.

The day grew to night and the party slowly started winding down. Decorative lights kept the town hall and square as bright as it needed to be, but the day's merriment had really toned down. The mayor gathered everyone's attention by ringing a small bell around. It was awards time. Everyone gathered around the main pavilion as Mayor Mare handed out the trophies and medals and ribbons that were earned throughout the day. Twilight took the opportunity to play a little game. She would try to guess the winner in each category, just to prove to herself she knew the people around town.

A race? Had to have been Rainbow Dash. Of course.

Biggest vegetable grown? Carrot Top, obviously.

Best Flower arrangement? Hmm... It's gonna be either Daisy or Rose. Oh, it was Lily!

Most Pies eaten in a Minute? That's easy its nobody other than pink... wait what?

A considerably rounder than in the morning Applejack trotted up to the podium. She had all kinds of multicolored stains on her face, decorating her satisfied smile.

"I may have lost the hog wranglin competition this year, but aint nobody gonna take my championship in pie wrangling. Not for these 3 years straight, and not for the next 3"

"Come to think of it," Twilight thought to herself, "I haven't seen Pinkie Pie all day. This is the biggest party I've ever seen and she hasn't shown up at all."

She scanned the crowd of ponies, the vendors at the stalls, and the various other ponies putting things away into their carts. Not a single trace of hyperactive pink to be found. Things were getting a bit too blurry to see, though. Twilight was pretty sure she was around, she just couldn't see her at the moment.

"I'll go congratulate Applejack, and maybe she'd know about..."

Twilight's thoughts were cut short. The giant bell in the center of town started to ring. The gong was so loud it made the whole rabble quiet down. Ponies around her started yelling "ITS MIDNIGHT!" and everyone quickly scattered, only to quickly return with large pickets and banners, most of them almost exclusively saying "Welcome Home" or a misspelled variant of it.
The bell had rung 3 times so far, everyone turned away from the pavilion, towards the town entrance. They were waiting for something to happen.

4 times
Each ring made the crowd even quieter. Ponies were lifting the signs as high as they could, but not a single word escaped anyone's mouth.

6 times
The silence scared Twilight. Today, she woke up without knowing a single thing about this celebration, and after a whole day in it, she realized she still knew absolutely nothing about what was going on. This had turned from the funnest day to the creepiest day of her life.

9 times
The only sound in the air was the sound of a loosening rope behind Twilight, and as she turned her head she saw a giant banner, about as big as a Sail from a boat, drop down from the bell tower, with the words "Welcome Home" written in the biggest letters possible.

10 times
Ponies weren't even making breathing noises anymore. Twilight instinctively held her breath as well, the silence was so unnatural, so unnerving, she dared not break it.

11 times
Twilight was getting desperate. She hadn't even blinked for a while now, and she definitely stopped looking around. Everypony was doing the exact same thing, gazing out into the town entrance, holding up their signs and banners, waiting for something, someone, ANYTHING to appear. This final second was pure torture. Twilight just wanted someone to tell her what was going on, to assure her nothing was wrong, but she was frozen in fear. Just ring, bell. She wanted that final ring, as if it would somehow fix this, whatever this was. Ring already! What is going on! WHY IS IT NOT RINGING!

The pony next to her let out a sigh. A few ponies in front put down their signs. One pegasus took to the sky, presumably headed home, and others soon followed. Slowly, everypony around her eventually turned back to what they were doing, albeit much quieter than they were one terrifying moment ago. Friends hugged their goodbyes and ponies wished each other goodnight. The town square began to empty, and eventually Twilight was left standing alone, completely baffled at whatever just happened. Soon enough, she gathered the courage to move, but she still didn't know where to go or what to do. Off in the distance she saw Applejack dragging her over-sized trophy back home.

Back at the library, try as she might, Twilight could not gather her thoughts. Did whatever just happen actually happen? Why did the bell stop ringing? What was everyone even doing! The party, the cider, the awards, the bells, the signs, the silence, oh god the silence, what does it all mean!? Where is spike?
Lying in bed, her thoughts could not focus. Despite that sobering moment, she felt her head grow fuzzy once more. As her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, ideas and concepts started to drift away. Eventually there was only one phrase she could think about before drifting off to sleep.

"Welcome Home"

Day 2

Today was just like every other day. Sunrise came at exactly the same time as before. The sun burst through the window at incredible speeds, swallowing the floor and furniture. Its blinding, white hot rays of hate threatened to set fire to twilight's bed. Almost punching her in the back of the head, the sun woke twilight up with its merciless, unwavering light. Twilight groaned loudly as she tried in vain to shield herself from the onslaught of heat and brightness. There was a great pounding of drums and an incredible amount of noise, but this time it wasn't outside on the streets, it was inside Twilight's head.

No time for showers, no time for hair, no time for teeth, Twilight needs coffee right now. Back in the academy she studied the effect of the stronger, spicier ciders on ponies, and she had read all about these day-after effects. She even created a formula that contained the proper amounts of isotonics and nutrients to improve blood flow to the brain and reduce the side effects. She also went the extra mile and developed a magic spell to theoretically mask the effects, but she never actually used any of that, and there was no way she was gonna be able to do any of that right now. Coffee was her only hope.

A few mugfuls in, things started to clear up a bit. The angry environment slowly drifted away, the sun dimmed back to its original setting as the construction crew in her head put down their heavy machinery.

"What time is it anyway?" Twilight asked the clock on her wall, almost expecting a response.

"Its Noon, you lazy bum" it responded, in not so many words.

Oh man, she better open up the library before anyone finds out. Actually, she was pretty sure there was something she had to do today, but for the life of her she could not figure it out.

"Spike, did i have anything planned for today?"
There was no response. Who knows where the little dragon boy had gone? Why wasn't he here? Oh, he must have fallen asleep somewhere after the par...

"THAT'S RIGHT! I NEED TO FIND OUT WHAT IN CELESTIA'S NAME HAPPENED YESTERDAY!"

Running out the door, she noticed spike lying face first in a big pile of books right at the entrance. She'll deal with that later. Right now, Twilight had to find Applejack and force her to tell her just what the hay the celebration was about. As she trotted through the streets, she noticed the Sugarcube Corner was closed; a sign was posted on the front door that said "Open on Monday." Wasn't today Monday? Or is it a Friday? Oh man here comes the headache again.

The Sweet Apple Acres farm was conveniently located a thousand miles away from the library, or so it seemed. Still, it was a good distance away from the town. Twilight could have sworn walking there never took as long as its taking right now. Eventually though, she reached the gates, and she found Applejack in the apple orchard, digging trenches all around.

"Its nice to see you two days in a row, Twilight. Most of the world goes by without you so much as peeking out the window of your big ol' tree full of books sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice," replied Twilight, she most likely didn't hear most of that, "Applejack, yesterday night, at midnight, what was all that about?"

Applejack chuckled a bit to herself.

"You mean to tell me that all that explaining i did at the square didn't get through? I've had to repeat myself ta Granny, but you're supposed to be the smart one around here."

"I... I'm sorry" Twilight was surprised and a few orders of magnitude embarrassed, her cheeks started to turn bright red. "I don't remember you telling me anything after i drank some of that cider you gave me."

Applejack's chuckle turned into a full blown guffaw.

"Oh twi, you're a hoot! That stuff should have knocked the socks off ya if you were wearin any. I was surprised you were still standing at noon. I can see you're still kinda out of it, seeing as you actually walked over here instead of doing that fancy flash teleporting poof thing you like to do." Twilight's face got even redder once she realized that.

"Ok sugarcube, i'll tell you the story again. It all started, a long time ago, back when the hunter guild was in full force. See, we were a small town. Well, smaller than right now. And it was basically just this little ol' farm run by Granny Smith, a few houses, and the Hunter's hall. We're so close to the Everfree forest, hunters couldn't help but show up and see what kind of crazy monster's they'd find on the other side. The thing is, the Everfree forest aint exactly a cute Forest and Hills map. Ponies would constantly get lost and never come back. Eventually, the guild shut down our hall and assigned only a single hunter to take care of all our monster troubles. Granny had to step on hooves and pull on manes for that one. A season wouldn't go by without some crazy kutku trying to build a nest in our zap apple orchard."

"Anywho, the guild sent us the weirdest, scrawniest, most timid hunter they could find, probably to make sure he wouldn't go into the forest by himself. After a few years or so, me and Big Mac were able to take care of any over-sized lizard who tried to mess things up here at the farm, and the hunter decided to, uh, 'repurpose' the hall into something a bit more suitable to his, uh, 'tendencies.'"

Applejack gestured out into the town, "Its that building over there, the Sugarcube Corner. Mr. Cake redecorated the place and used the large kitchen to bake cookies. Its not exactly dignifying, if you catch my drift, but i think its an improvement, a girl like me could use a little sweet stuff now and then. Reminds me of the time when i was a little filly and one of my cousins came from..."

Twilight interrupted, "Applejack, this is really nice but i really want to know about midnight yesterday, technically today."

"Oh right, I'm getting to that. Hold your horses. So yeah, Mr. Cake stopped hunting for a long time. A really long time. He got married, and all but retired from being a hunter. He couldn't retire, though. If he did they'd have to find someone else and kick him out of the Hall. However, on his 35th birthday, four years ago, some kid shows up, looking for the hall. He was a hunter sent by the guild, one from the last generation of trainees right before the guild officially disbanded. That kid's the one we celebrate each year. He did in a year what most hunters dream of doing their whole careers." Applejack's chest puffed up in pride. "I was good friends with that kid, at least, I'd like to think i was."

"I could go on all day about the crazy things that pony did, but i aint got the time. Had it yesterday, not today. All you need to know is that one day he left on a hunt, said he'd be back by midnight, and just never returned. The next year on the same day me and Pinkie Pie had a little stakeout to wait for him, out of respect you know, but he really wasn't gonna show. We both knew that. Didn't make it feel any better though. The next year, more ponies showed up and we had a small celebration. We made that statue in the center of town, and the mayor declared it a festival day. At the stroke of midnight, Pinkie ran up the tower and stopped the bell, just to give him more time to show up. I guess whoever rang it this year did the same."

"Oh, so that horrifyingly creepy scene at the end was actually tradition?" Twilight was relieved. "All that welcome home stuff, nobody was actually expecting someone to come back? Wait, what was that about Pinkie?"

"Listen, twi, as much as i like standing around all day doing absolutely nothing, these apple trees aren't gonna dig their own irrigation ditches. If you want to know more, just ask Pinkie herself, she... probably... won't mind. I mean, it has been several years. Of course, you never know what's rattling around in that head of hers."

Twilight excused herself from the farm. Its understandable that Applejack didn't have time to explain everything, but now twilight left with more questions than she started with. Who would this hunter be that merits a whole day of celebration, and such a somber reverence at the end? What did he do to deserve it? Not only that, the only other lead she had was Pinkie Pie and she's probably gone for the weekend, or week, or she's back today, depending on what the definition of "Monday" was. Twilight really had to get a grip and catch up with the real world soon.

"HEY TWILIGHT!" Applejack called out to her. "You're walking back to town, did ya forget how ta magic sparkle teleport?"

Ugh. Its gonna be another one of those days.

Back at the Library, after verifying it was indeed a Sunday, and after scooping up spike back into his bed, Twilight started unraveling this mystery the only way she knew how. By reading. Books on the hunter's guild, the various monsters that need to be kept in check, hunting festivals and traditions, the helper cats who assist hunters, anything she could find. Her previous knowledge of the guild was merely that the hunters were one branch in the 3 branches of public order. The Guard, the Guild, and the Magic Academy. She never came across any hunters in her time studying under Celestia, but the books say the headquarters were right there in Canterlot. It was big news a while back that for some unknown reason the guild would formally stop existing, and that the duty of monster hunting would be shared between the Magicians and Soldiers. Celestia never commented on it, at least not to twilight.

"Actually, now that i think about it, if the guild was still training hunters, there would have been more ponies able to fight against Nightmare Moon." Twilight didn't know if this was a good thing or not.

Monster Hunter ponies are an incredible breed. They are tough, strong, and work as unbreakable 4 pony teams. However, they are only trained to fight the various dragons, wyverns, beasts, and other monsters that endanger the lives of everypony in equestria. A Monster Hunter cannot keep the peace like a soldier can, and in larger groups, hunters tend to fight themselves more than their prey. They don't use magic on their own, but some of their weaponry and armor retain the magic properties of the materials they are made out of. Which brings up another point. Soldiers have uniforms, mass produced armor meant to inspire peace to law abiding citizens and fear to lawbreakers. Magicians are trained to not wear armor, as it would interfere with the spell casting process. Twilight knows first hand you can't wear a helmet and cast even a simple spell. But Hunters? They wear whatever they want. Unique armors made from whatever they hunted, held together by strings and rope made of grass and plants found in remote locations, fused together using the fluids of bugs and poisons and fire from a dragon's mouth. Their armors are tough, heavy, large, and often times just plain silly, but they serve a purpose. Nobody else has to deal with the crushing chomp of a dragon's jaw but a hunter. Hunters need armor that can withstand the blow of a manticore's claws. Hunters need reflective visors to block a cockatrice's gaze. They NEED armor with holes in them to drain water gathered while swimming.

Before twilight knew it, the sun had set and it was actually somewhere close to 4 am. Her stomach was rumbling. All this reading made her revert to her old college ways of not actually eating. Despite it being so late, there was noise in the kitchen. Some pots and pans were being scattered, possibly making a mess of the place. Twilight moved in to investigate.
Spike was standing on a stool, mixing something in a pot over the oven.

"Spike, what in Equestria are you doing?"

"I looked around the house to see if there was anything to eat, and all i found was this box of chocolate pudding."

Day 3

First thing in the morning, twilight was up and about outside the Sugarcube Corner, waiting for someone to pop out and flip the "Closed" sign to "Open." Sure enough, at 7 A.M. on the dot, the sign was flipped by none other than the resident confectionist Mr. Carrot Cake himself. Still covered in flour, he quickly trotted back to the register once he saw the first customer of the day.

"Its a pleasure seeing you here so early, Twilight Sparkle. Can i interest you in some of your freshly made doughnuts? They were just glazed a few seconds ago."

The Sugarcube Corner had a strong scent so early in the morning. Getting a snoutful of that surprised twilight. Its not the sweet smell of confectioner's sugar or the clean, nutty smell of a warm loaf of banana bread this place usually had. Its a sour, pungent odor. Almost of something gone bad. It stuck to your throat and strangled the walls of your nostrils. Its the smell of yeast rising, the smell of burnt wood, melted sugar, bubbling oil, eggs, baking powder, cream of tartar, raw materials used to make the sweet pastries. Very few people get insight on the behind the scenes actions of a bakery, even though the end product is sweet and delicious, its only possible through the mixture of individually disgusting items. Mr. Cake stood there, his apron smeared with dried dough, egg yolk, fruit pectin, all worn as badges of honor, medals awarded in lieu of his work.

Twilight, still full on chocolate pudding, cut straight to the chase.

"Mr. Cake," she said with a very interrogative tone "Is Pinkie Pie around? I need to ask her some questions about the holiday we had a few days ago, about this town's Monster Hun..."

"SHHHH!!!" quickly interrupted Mr. Cake, in a quite assertive manner that was very out of character for him. "We don't talk about this here. I don't know where you got your ideas from, but this is a bakery, not some fancy hunter's hall. I don't even know what hunters even do, heavens, I couldn't possibly be one! That's ridiculous!"

Mr. Cake reached into the counter, pulled out the biggest cruller he could find, and stuffed it into twilight's mouth. Unable to speak, twilight could hardly protest Mr. Cake as he started to push her out the door.

"It's our treat of the day, the specialty pastry, on the house, and most importantly, ONLY AVAILABLE TO GO!"
The door slammed behind twilight, the sound of a bolt clicking into place soon after. On the door, a sign read "out to lunch."
Looks like she would have to find Pinkie later. No doubt she'd be jumping around trying to catch butterflies or something later on in the day, and she really was in no hurry. This wasn't like the time twilight had to figure out the return of Nightmare Moon or something like that. Besides, if Mr. Cake was any sign, Pinkie might have the same response.

Actually, everyone was being so dodgy about this. Applejack wasn't too clear on some of the things she said. Pinkie pie was completely absent from the biggest party in Ponyville. Mr. Cake completely freaked out at the mere mention of Monsters. Could this be some sort of conspiracy? A dark secret this town shares in silence? Some shadowy organization that wants to keep the truth hidden from... no wait, why would they have a festival about a secret? Never mind.

It seemed like Twilight's exhaustive knowledge on mystery novels had caught up with her. This wasn't some Purloined Letter or the Mark of the Five, its just some extraordinarily paranoid scaredy-pony who's afraid of some guild which doesn't even exist anymore, a busy body workaholic, and, well, pinkie pie, doing whatever it is that she does.

"Psst... Twilight!" In the shadow of a nearby house, a pony silhouette beckoned her. "Over here!"

The strained whisper was much louder than normal speech, really, there was no point in even doing that.

"Pinkie, is that you?"

"SHHHHH... not so loud! Someone might hear you!" whispered the voice. Seriously, if anyone was around they would have heard her first.

Twilight approached the dark figure. Dressed in a large brown trenchcoat and a very classy brown fedora, a bright pink pony stood in a very suspicious pose. She was hiding her face with the hat and large collar of the coat, but a pink curly mane forced its way out of every crack and crevice, and her tail swung free in the air like a giant stick of cotton candy. It was obviously Pinkie Pie, no doubt about it. Twilight suspected she was wearing the disguise out of pure stereotype.

"Do you want to know more about P.S.?" Pinkie asked twilight. She was still trying to be as mysterious and sneaky as possible.

Twilight didn't know how to respond. P.S. is a postscript at the end of a letter. P.S. is also a venereal disease. P.S. could mean anything and when it comes to pinkie pie, you can't exactly "guess."

"The hunter. His name. That's what you want, right?"

"Oh! Yeah!" Twilight responded. Finally, a lead.

"Here, take this." Pinkie handed twilight a package. It was rectangular and wrapped in brown paper, tied with string. "I figure you're good with books. You've read plenty of them, about a ton of things. I wouldn't be much of a friend if i didn't let you read this book."

Quickly, Pinkie's voice and posture got smaller. Her hair started to "deflate" for lack of a better description. "Please read it. I tried to, but... its too hard. I'm pretty sure it will answer all your questions, just, don't tell anyone else."
With that, Pinkie raised a hoof up in the air and brought it down. She had thrown something on the ground, and on impact it exploded in a giant cloud of smoke. It wasn't too thick, but the poor circulation in the alley made sure the smoke didn't dissipate quickly. Twilight breathed some of it in accidentally, making her cough. It smelled like a bunch of powdered sugar. Actually, she wouldn't be surprised if it was just powdered sugar. Needless to say, once the smoke cleared, Pinkie Pie was nowhere to be seen, although there were plenty of sugary hoofprints leading out and back toward the Sugarcube Corner.
Twilight's attention turned to the package in her possession. The paper was now coated in sugar, the twill string bow tie at the front dusted like snow on a winter wreath. Oh god the sugar is everywhere. Its probably all over twilight's mane and tail! Oh well, the time to worry about that comes later. Right now, she's got a book to read.

Back at the library, twilight prepared a reading space. A lamp, a blanket, a small pillow to rest on, a few other books in case she got bored, everything was looking perfect. Spike poked his head in the room and saw what was going on.

"Aw man. Its gonna be another one of those days." Spike rolled his eyes. "Twilight, if you're gonna hang around here all day then I'm going shopping for food."

Completely ignoring him, Twilight carefully untied the knot and unwrapped the mystery book. The outer cover had a crude, blocky image of a dragon of some sort. It was squared, the dragon itself cramped up as if it was trying to fit inside an imaginary box. Nothing in the back, nothing in the spine, the leather-bound book certainly looked enticing enough.

Carefully, Twilight flipped the book open. It didn't pop or crack like a new book. Actually, this book had probably seen better days. The paper was dirty and yellowed in places, and the cover was beaten and bruised. The first page had a few lines of text.

It read: Hunter's Journal, Location: Frontier, Lodge: Ponyville, Registered Hunter of the Guild: P. S.

Oh wow, its a JOURNAL! Twilight's eyes widened in excitement. She knew books. Fictional books took her to a new world, imagined by an author. Non-Fiction educated her about new subjects. Reference functioned as the backbone of civilization. But Journals? They weren't just books. They were open doors to the hearts of the authors. They had such a personal essence, a drive that could not be found in even the most passionate of documentaries. Personality that not even the most fleshed out character could ever possess. This was going to be good.

Twilight turned the page and started reading.

First Hunt: Velocidrome (annoying blue lizards and their leader)
I was called in to some yellow pony's backyard. There were these big bright blue lizards trying to eat the chickens she had in a coop. I hit one with my sword just hard enough to make it go away. The rest followed. The pony who made the request was unable to verify completion because she locked herself in her house and refused to answer the door.

Wait.

What?

Was that it? This was his journal? Twilight randomly flipped through pages in the journal. Most of the entries were similar. No eloquence, no heart, it was just a hunter's log of the things he did to prove he actually worked and not just baked cookies all day, like other hunters. This can't be right. Why would pinkie have such a hard time reading this? The off thought of a poor reading level Pinkie Pie struggling to grasp such a simple book passed through twilight's head, and even though she got a smile out of it, she felt dirty for thinking such a way of one of her best friends.

No, Twilight was probably handed the wrong book. He probably had another, more personal journal, or pinkie probably mistook this for a biography. Something has to be wrong here. However, no matter how many pages she ruffled through, it was all the same.

Disappointed in her ruined day, Twilight wasn't about to let all this preparation go to waste. She browsed her shelves and found that book on Monster Hunters she had been reading the night before.
Hunters, Armor, Weapons, Eating Habits, Musical Sensitivity training, ah, here it is, the section on Journals.
Hunter Journals are mandatory journals every Monster Hunter must keep. Every hunt must be documented, with the technique employed that resulted in a successful hunt clearly depicted. Journals are evaluated after each hunt by the Guild and verified by Felyne scouts. Upon verification, the hunter is awarded the promised reward for a hunt, if any. From their first year in the Guild Training camp, hunters are taught to keep a journal. In order to save space, a new method of writing, named "shorthoof" is taught to hunters. Entries in shorthoof can be added to every normal entry for warnings, specific hunting strategies, new experiences, and other more personal information. Anything written in shorthoof is disregarded by the guild and felynes and will not affect the evaluation of the entry. Hunter Journals created during the training phase should focus on shorthoof, and a hunter is recommended to flesh out his/her life story and personality into their trainee journal. These journals are kept under file in the central archives in Canterlot. Hunter Journals for graduated hunters tend to focus more on the daily lives of the hunters, and upon retirement, should be made available for any registered hunter to read. It is through these Journals that hunting knowledge is passed to next generations and new techniques found and distributed among current generations of hunters.

Twilight's nose scrunched up. Of course. Its written in code. Journals are ALWAYS written in code. She grabbed the Hunter Journal again, opened it to the first entry, and began to examine it. Plain text written in the center of the page, just like before. Nothing strange here. Nothing strange in the next few pages, either, or in the whole book. Did this pony just not care?

No. There's code here, she just couldn't find it. Maybe its every other letter? No.

Every first word? No.

Maybe if she got all the letters and took away the spaces and then aligned them in a grid and used mathematical algorithms to select letters to make a word and... no.
This was getting really frustrating, really fast. Maybe its a chemical reaction and twilight needed to set fire to the book to be able to read the entries in the ashes! That sounds like a GREAT idea just about now.

In the end, Twilight decided to resort to what she believed to be the answer to all of societies' problems. Magic. But what spell should she cast on the book? She could cast a spell to make the book come to life and read her the entry, but every time she did that it would get tired after a while and nothing could read out loud as fast as Twilight could read in her head. Maybe she could cast a code breaking spell that would arrange all the letters in a grid, but she had already thought of that. She could cast a divination spell that would summon pony ancestors to reveal the secrets of the book, but the book wasn't that old, they probably wouldn't know anything about it. Its not old at all, its just really beat up and dirty. Heavy duty stuff, too. Each page looked like it was made out of fiber rather than paper, with little thatches and speckles and markings all over the page. Maybe if she carefully ripped a page in... WAIT

Twilight looked at the texture of the paper. The paper crumpled and cracked like normal paper made of wood pulp, but it was coated in little markings and dashes, giving it the illusion of being made out of fabric. Oh no. Sweet mercy, no! This was the code! The entire paper was coated in secret writing. Not a single square inch of a page was left blank with these specs and scribbles. It was all over the journal; even on pages that had no text, even on those white parts that hold the cover of the book in place! Slowly, the markings started to make sense. They were uniform, organized. What looked like random fibers and accidental flicks of ink were actually clearly defined letters, possibly words. She started to identify individual words among the code, punctuation, grammar, but she had no idea what it meant. This wasn't just a code, it was an entirely new language.
For the first time in her life, being a giant nerd was going to pay off. One of the first magical spells she created, other than the one that lets her summon a door to slam on someone's face, was a spell that let her read books that were previously unreadable. In the Canterlot library there were books of every shape, size, topic, and most importantly, language. Instead of having to learn a new language entirely, twilight managed to develop a spell that let her learn a language for an hour a day. Usually, an hour was all that was needed to read whatever foreign book she encountered, but sometimes she would come across something like the Pony Iliad, written in its original pony Greek, that required multiple sessions.

Taking a step back, Twilight began the incantations for her spell. First up, a cheer to the gods, Ia! Ia!. Her eyes started to glow white with inner power. Her hooves traced the patterns of alchemical symbols in the air, and an aura of force started to surround her.

At around this time, Spike was fumbling with the door, hands full of groceries.

Six red orbs of fire formed from the air around twilight. They bounced back and forth, anxious to be released. Whatever force surrounding twilight was now strong enough to lift her off the ground, causing her to hover in place.
Spike opened the door and saw twilight in the middle of her spell.

"OH NO! NOT AGAIN!"

Spike dropped the brown paper bags and hurriedly started to open every window in the house, traveling as fast as his little dragon feet could let him. On his way to the big window on the second floor, spike grabbed his bed and took it with him. Inverted and against the corner, it provided a little shelter for whatever came next.

Twilight's spell built up. A swirl of dark aura spun from her horn, the fireballs around her shook violently, forces negated the pull of gravity and rendered her weightless. Lost in incantation, words of foreign tongue forced themselves out of her throat, however they were mostly drowned out by the loud wail of the dark magic itself. Finally, in one final exertion, the spell was cast. Spinning around the room, the magical flames searched frantically for an outlet. They screamed past books and furniture, kissing walls with their fiery embers, knocking over books and fixings, making a mess of all the pots and pans in the kitchen, until finally they found an open door or window and launched themselves high into the sky. Twilight was released slowly from the magic's grasp. The dark forces at work finally settled down to a slight breeze and a hum, eventually dissipating. She now knew how to read the hunter's notes, albeit for just about an hour.

Spike peeked his head out from under his little fort. The damage wasn't too big, a few books knocked over, some curtains just a little bit burnt, nothing too drastic. He was glad he managed to get the windows open in time. Those fireballs always want to go out, and if there's no openings for them, they'll make some. Actually, neither his nor twilight's bed were on fire this time, so all in all, it was a pretty good day so far. From what twilight had explained to him, the way magic worked was that physical manipulation was free, but knowledge and wisdom needed you to give something back. The learn-to-read gods want fireballs, so twilight gives them fireballs. What for? It seriously is better nobody actually know.

Without a second to lose, Twilight opened up the journal. The "hidden" text was glaringly obvious now, so much so that actually reading the official evaluation log was almost impossible. The true story so carefully hidden was about to be revealed. Mystery, your slayer is I, Twilight Sparkle.

Chapter 2: Hunter's Log

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My name is Peti... This is stupid. This isn't the training journal anymore, its my own. I don't have to follow any grading criteria. I'm calling myself PS. Its not really PS, but its what I grew up as, and seeing as my name is actually pretty embarrassing, and my profession depends mostly on my reputation, my name is PS. From what they tell me, I am from the last officially graduating class of hunters of the Guild. Ever since I was a little boy all I could dream about was becoming a hunter. Just imagine: If I was born just a year later, none of this could be possible. I shudder at the thought. I'm pretty sure there will still be hunters. There has to be hunters. What are they gonna do the next time some dragon decides to use a mountain for a sleeping hole? Send some civilians up there to go talk to it? No. We are needed.

Anyway, my graduation ceremony was typical. The Guildmaster handed us our diplomas, which are actually just maps to the guild hall we have to report to. We drank a bit, ate a ton, and partied all night. By "we" i mean mostly they did. I usually wasn't invited to those kinds of things. The next day I set off on the adventure which should eventually be the rest of my life. So far so good. I was assigned the Hunter Lodge in Ponyville, which is odd. When I showed my classmates my diploma, they - along with me - were surprised there even was a hall there. Some felt sorry for me, but I think its the best I could ask for. In a busy hall like Canterlot's, hunters have to compete for the same monster assignments, and bad or new hunters sometimes can't fulfill their quotas. This Ponyville Hall sounds like a quiet enough place so that I'd have enough hunts to myself, but its also not so remote that the hall wouldn't have running water like Appaloosa's.

The trip was, well, a trip. In typical hunter tradition, the Guild gives us absolutely no money, no supplies, no gear other than the beat up old training armor I've been wearing for years and a really cheap weapon. My armor, although old, is still as good as it was when I first got it. We trainees were never allowed to hunt the big game and therefore could not make armor using actual monster parts; instead we had to do guild missions for armor tickets, which we then traded in for armor pieces. Missions consisted of hauling the gear of the real hunters around as they hunted, doing chores around the academy, and the occasional venture into the woods for herbs and materials. I managed to get my whole set doing such missions on my spare time: some boots with a plate of metal on the front, a pretty good looking armored jacket, and the metal plated belt. However, this armor set was only available with a plaid surcoat. It was supposed to resemble a kilt, but everyone agrees its just a lazy skirt.

As for the weapon I was gifted? I figured since bowguns are the norm, why not leave with a rare graduation present? I picked the Steel Greatsword. Absolutely everyone else in my class picked the bowgun. Its depressing. This is what hunting has devolved into.

When i was a kid, i saw a group of hunters parade down the city. They were walking alongside a cart with some ugly monster tied up inside. One hunter in the group caught my attention. He was wearing the shiniest metal armor i have ever seen, but some plates had actual pieces of a red dragon sticking out of it. Somehow, scales of an actual dragon had been attached to his armor, causing a nice contrast of nature against the artificial steel. The scales were also set up in such a way so that the boots looked like the claws of a dragon, the back looked like the plated wings, and the helmet looked like a head. He simply looked like a smaller dragon, come to think of it, but the thing I remember clearly about him was his sword, strapped to his back. It was also red and had the same designs as the armor, but it was big. Very Big. Strapped on his back it spanned his entire length, and stuck out a bit more. It looked like the lower jaw of a dragon, flattened and decorated with even MORE spikes and teeth than normal. That hunter not only hunted dragons, he practically became one. Ever since then I have wanted to be him. Not just another hunter, I wanted to be THAT hunter. Same armor, same weapon, same general mindset. My kilt armor and plain metal sword weren't even close, but it was a start.

However, once admitted to be a hunter in the academy, things proved to be slower than I thought. The training academy didn't even introduce weapons until the second year, and they were exclusively the light, medium, and heavy bowguns. Swords, hammers, spears, things that in my opinion looked cool and exciting to use were being "cycled out" because they were "archaic." The guild thought that if you could hunt a monster from far away, why would you hunt it from up close? Who could argue? The hunter fatality rate had drastically reduced ever since they focused more on bowguns.

Still, I took as many electives as possible dealing with melee weapons. You could say that affected my grades, because well, I never really learned or cared about the bowguns. Oh man that one time I failed a quiz because I forgot to actually load arrows into the gun, that's something I hope nobody remembers.

Maybe that's why they sent me here to Ponyville. I'm an embarrassment. Some kid who hung out with the old men, the grandpas of hunting, and used their stupid sticks and stones instead of the modern technology everyone else used. Maybe they didn't want the public to see me. I hear the hunters at Los Pegasus got a red carpet reception. The hunters that stayed in Canterlot were given special ranks by Celestia herself. Me? I had to take the two day hike to Ponyville by myself, to a Gathering Hall nobody knew existed, and what I found wasn't quite the welcome i was expecting at all.

Nobody actually noticed me arrive today. I saw ponies going around, doing their pony things, but none of them really cared too much about a fully armored pony walking the streets. I saw a mule with a cart pushing it around hurriedly, but I don't think he was going anywhere. I saw a pony outside a store with a big fan as a sign, and another pony tending a shop that sold quills and sofas. Seriously. I saw a house carved into a tree and another one that looked like one of those merry go rounds that I've seen in carnivals. That's not the strangest thing, though. I'm no stranger to maps. As a hunter, map reading was a required class all four years. But ill tell you, when I followed the map to the best of my ability and arrived at the spot where the Hunter's Hall should have been, only to find I had accidentally stumbled into a bakery, suddenly I regretted skipping all those days of classes.

Turns out the hunter hall was the bakery, uh, is the bakery. I figured since I'm completely lost at this point: there's no harm in asking, there's no better place to start than the building right in front of me, and hell, the last thing I had eaten was a crusty old ration wheat biscuit, a bakery was the perfect place to be inside right then.

As soon as I walked in, though, the lady in the counter recognized my armor and started jumping around talking a bit too fast for me. There was another pony in some sort of candystriper outfit around there too, but as soon as he saw me he bolted into the kitchen.

"Oh my goodness! You're a hunter, aren't you! We got a special discount for hunters, don'tcha know!"

"A...Actually," it was hard to respond. Now that I think about it, this lady was the first non hunter pony I had talked to in two years or so, "I'm trying to find the Hunter's Lodge in this town. Any idea where it would be?"

"Well look around, you're standing in it!"

At this point, a fully armored hunter came out of the kitchen. He was wearing a thick black leather vest armor with spikes all around. On his head was a steel helmet, covered in leather, and had a very punk style Mohawk jutting out from the top. It wasn't part of the helmet, I could see the hole where his actual hair stuck out. His extremely pronounced jaw and height made the whole setup look very intimidating. Even though the pants and belt were leather on the outside, you could see the areas that were clearly reinforced with steel. This guy was undoubtedly a seasoned hunter. His eyes were intense as he stared me down.

Man, where do I get armor like that, its crazy! I recognized the rough and rubbery leather used. It came from a Congolala, giant primates that lived in the more tropical regions of Canterlot. They are highly territorial, which wouldn't be too bad, but they're also constantly making their territory larger. Eventually they attack a town and a hunter has to put them down. What I don't understand is: a Congolala's fur is pale and pink in color. His armor is dark and black. Sure you can dye an armor a different color but it has to be some really strong dye to stick on to monster leather, how did he manage to pull that off?

"What's a cadet like you doing all the way out here." He barked at me. I could tell it wasn't a question he wanted me to answer at all. "Walking around in your pajamas in public like its not an insult to all of us, you got some nerve, Kid. How about you just go back to wherever you came from and leave us real hunters alone, eh."

I mean, sure he was tough and scary looking, but so were my instructors, so were my fellow peers, and I'd like to think so would I be if I wore some fancy spiky leather like that. I wasn't gonna just let any old man wearing tight pants push me around, what kind of hunter would i be?

"Hey, gramps, cut the tough act. I'm here from the academy in Canterlot. I've been assigned to the Ponyville hall by the guild, to replace one of the hunters who wish to re..."

"The guild means nothing here, kid. Last I heard it isn't even gonna pay for any of our hunts anymore. Why should we care about the guild now? Why should we let some wannabe mooch off our food and sleep in our beds? Because some dead organization told us to?"

As I write this, I still have no clue. I mean, monsters need to be hunted, right? The guild just won't help us directly, but something will still keep the hunts coming, right? Anyway,

"The way i see it, I've got a good back, strong haunches, and the teachings of some of the best hunters in the world in my head. Some of your hunters are clearly better off doing something else entirely. Just put me in there and let the poor saps retire already."

To be honest, I didn't know a single thing about the hunters in Ponyville, and so far the only thing I did know is that the blue lady with the hair that looked like an ice cream cone told me the bakery was the hall. At this point I'm running entirely on guesses and bluffs. It must have worked because after a brief stare down, the hunter dropped his entire toughman attitude. His posture changed completely and he removed his helmet, quickly replacing it with a paper hat. He was the same pony i had seen running into the kitchen when I arrived.

"Well, that's good enough for me!" he exclaimed. Strange, his voice was nowhere near as intimidating as it was before. It actually sounded kind of meek and diffident. "Honey bun and I have been waiting for a replacement for a long time, isn't that right honey?"

"Oh yes, lots of time. When we got wind of the guild going away, I was scared we'd never get someone to come!" The blue pony responded. I took it these two were married or something.

I still don't know what's going on completely, but after we introduced ourselves, these two, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, showed me to the back of the bakery, which was more of a catering/bakery/party hall, up to a completely unassuming wooden door. Using a key, which they later gave to me, they unlocked this door.

It creaked open as if it hadn't been used in decades. The room inside was not decorated in pink and hearts like the rest of the place, but rather, it had the traditional wooden tables and monster carvings on the walls that I saw every day at the academy. There was a small practice area, the dining table, the guild desk, all the hall commodities, and there was a very ornate chair on a corner, placed on a level above the rest of the room, where I assume the hall leader would sit. I might have doubted the bakery to be a Gathering hall, but after seeing that there was no doubt in my mind I was at the right place.

However, everything was covered in dust. Spiderwebs were draped over the furniture, the targets and mannequins in the practice area were just piled up on a corner and they looked almost brand new. This place was empty.

"I'm sorry for the mess, we, uh, really weren't expecting company. We'll get this cleaned right away, right sweetie?" Mr. Cake quickly started sweeping the floors while Mrs. Cake dusted all the furniture. The cobblestone floor being swept had a trail that lead to the wide double doors where hunters would embark on their journey. The doors, however, were closed with a giant wood beam across them. When was the last time someone had set hoof in here?

Before I could offer up to help, the couple had already finished. It's not like it was hard, you can't exactly make a Guild Hall sparkle, no matter how clean it is. Light bulbs dimly glowed as they were turned on for the first time, and the whole thing felt like I was back at the dormitory in the guild academy. The only thing missing was the noise of a bunch of rowdy hunters trying to out-brag each other.

"Where is everyone else? All the other hunters? The staff?" I asked. Its strange how the thought hadn't crossed my mind at all until just then.

"You're looking at them, son. I'm the town hunter, and here's the lovely Guild girl." Mr. Cake snuggled up against his wife. It was romantic, I guess, but the whole thing was just too weird.

In every Hall, there has to be at least one girl who was appointed by the guild to assign hunts and organize groups. Girls were chosen over men mainly due to the large amount of male hunters, and they often wore cute dresses to be as feminine as possible without exciting the hunters too much. However, guild girls were known as the crazy women who oftentimes sent you to your imminent death without so much as an ounce of regret. These were the ladies that decided if you got medical treatment or not, if your hunt was good enough to merit being able to eat that night. Whenever news of a failed hunt came in, hunters would recoil at the wrath of the guild girl. No hunter got more than just friendly with a guild girl. Its just not right. This guy must like living in hell.

"Well, you WERE looking at them. Now that the guild has disbanded, the missus doesn't have a job anymore and now that you are here, I don't have to be the hunter anymore either. Congratulations, you're officially the Gathering Hall leader, the entire staff, and the sole hunter representative of Ponyville! Welcome to your new home."

I know it doesn't count, but I can't wait to brag to all the other hunters in my class how easily I managed to climb to be the best hunter in my Hall. Its almost impossible to be the leader. You'd have to wait for the current leader to straight up die before the slot would open up. The ten year reunion is going to be great.

"We're actually renting out the room where the hunters sleep upstairs, and seeing as she's actually paying for her room, I'm in no hurry for that to change. We'll bring over a bed, you can sleep right here in the hall. You have your training area, lounge, dining room, and everything else right here, why not just your bedroom too? After all, its not like you're gonna be in anybody's way!"

Who could argue with that, right? There's armor racks and places to hang stuff all around here. A free place to stay and its so close to the Hall! Mr. and Mrs. Cake left me to my new room, and after a bit of reorganization, I'm pretty sure I can make this work. I'm going to be using this table to write my journal, and the elevated area with the chair is gonna be where I'll put the bed. If a guild hall can go this long without being used, there probably isn't too much work to be done. I'll have to check up on the backlog of hunts tomorrow. Either way its a good sta...

The letters in the journal immediately stopped making sense again. The hour was up. The spell had dissipated. Twilight blinked a few times in disbelief. She had lost her place in the sea of almost incomprehensible markings. One thing she was for certain though was that she was still on the first page. How? Twilight could read entire novels in an hour's time. She spent an hour reading a little bit more than half the first page? Oh well. Magic is magic. You can't argue with the gods. Twilight had magically learned how to effortlessly decipher the code but that probably didn't make it any less time consuming. Magic made it feel like she wasn't doing much work but in reality all the decoding and translating took way longer than it should have. Looks like she'd have to wait until tomorrow to keep on reading.

Chapter 3: First Hunt

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The sun took its sweet time actually deciding to rise this time. Twilight was wide awake and pacing around the library just as the first few rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon. So many things to do today, so many chores and responsibilities to get out of the way before reading more of that journal. The magic that let her read the journal was very specific: One hour every day, no more, no less. Experimentation to extend the amount of time or reduce the time in between almost killed her. There was no way around it, and if there was, Twilight was not brave enough to keep trying to find out.

Around the same time every other pony in Ponyville was getting up, Twilight was halfway done with her workday. She had to deliver several letters to different houses around town. They were past due notices for books borrowed from the library. Like it or not, Twilight had to remind the population that a library is there for the general public, and that ponies should not keep the library books to themselves. A letter to Berry's house asking her to return the book on brewing yeast she borrowed, a letter to Lyra asking for the library's book on opposable thumbs back, Mrs. Cake with a book on low carbohydrate diets; all of these had to be delivered as soon as possible.

While Twilight did her rounds, she passed by the Sugarcube Corner. Smoke was coming out of the chimney, possibly from the early morning batch of pastries. Curiosity overtaking her, she snuck around the back and peeked into the backyard. Sure enough, the building was much larger on the outside than what she remembered being on the inside, and the backyard merely pointed straight out into the wilderness, two boarded up giant double doors taking up most of the wall. She could see the stairs leading up to Pinkie's room, and although it was hard to tell from such a distance, it looked like the door with the heart window was open just a little bit.

"Hi Twilight! Whatcha doin back here?!" Pinkie pie appeared right behind Twilight, who's poor pony heart took a small vacation. Completely surprised, Twilight could only cough and gasp for breath for a few moments.

"Are you here for the croissants? This time I made them and they're a brand new extra special recipe!" Pinkie held up a tray with a few black, charred pastries in the rough shape of a croissant.

"I... Im sorry Pinkie," Twilight responded after catching up with herself. "I, uh, was just delivering these past due notices around town and happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Oh no! I completely forgot! That book on jokes i borrowed was due back a week ago! Still, I got some really good ones out of it!"

Twilight was confused, but a quick check of her pile of letters showed she actually did have one for Pinkie. How convenient.

"Knock Knock" Pinkie's eyes were as wide as possible, she was obviously expecting a response.

"Wh...who's there?" Twilight was unsure if she should continue this.

"Sandy. No wait, uh, Sally! No, wait! Shoot, I forgot it. Anyway the punchline is try these they're DELICIOUS!"

Pinkie pie handed one of the burnt croissants to Twilight. She had seen Pinkie Pie eat some terrible things in the past, but she just assumed Pinkie was trying to be nice or courteous. This, however, was starting to hint at the fact that Pinkie probably doesn't have any tastebuds. Still, not to be rude, Twilight reached out and grabbed the toasted gift. As her hoof touched the burnt pastry, it burst almost violently, quickly shedding its ugly coat of charred bread and revealing a steaming hot beautiful croissant underneath. One bite almost made Twilight's hind legs buckle. It was just so soft, so buttery, so delicious, anything that was on her mind at the moment was completely gone. Pastry heaven.

"Hey, uh, twilight?" Pinkie interrupted her nirvana. "Did you get around to reading the book I gave you?"

"Huh... oh, OH, YEAH!" Even though she was sad to have to leave breadtopia and return to the real world, Twilight was glad the conversation changed to this particular topic. "It's very interesting. The journal itself is quite simple but it looks like the Hunter, uh, PS, put in a large amount of detail in secret writing. I had to use a magic spell to be able to read just a little bit of it, but I'll keep reading it!"

"Secret writing?" Pinkie smiled. "You must mean the shorthoof, silly. I thought you knew how to read shorthoof, since you both came from Canterlot."

"N...No. I had never heard of shorthoof before. It must be a Hunter's secret. Do you know how to read shorthoof, Pinkie Pie?" No. Possible. Way.

"Of course! PS taught me how to even write it. I've been putting it on party invitations and tons of other stuff recently, I thought you noticed. Oh well, at least you can read it with your magic. Leave it to Twilight Sparkle to invent a magic spell that lets her read more books! Tell me when you get to the good parts, ok? I want to know what he thought about us."

"Who exactly should i look out for?" Twilight recalled the hunter's initial opinion on Mr. and Mrs. Cake but nobody else had been mentioned yet.

"Well, it would be Yours Truly more importantly, then maybe Applejack... ooh and Rarity! I'd really like to know what he thought of Rarity!"

Rarity? That was new. Another piece of the puzzle rears its head. Now Rarity is involved in this. You'd think since so many of her friends knew about this Hunter pony, they'd have at least mentioned him once. Come to think of it, Twilight had not visited Rarity for a while, and she's almost certain Rarity wasn't at the festival either. One day she'd have to confront her about it. After thanking Pinkie for the snack and much later after the final note was delivered, Twilight Sparkle prepared the library for another spell.

From outside, a pony could only see flashing lights through the windows, feel the floor shake underhoof, hear the roar of unnatural magic, and finally, witness the violence of fire shooting out of every window in the treehouse. Some of the more nervous ponies grew concerned. What sort of crazy experiments are going on in there? Are we in danger? What exactly is the library trying to do, burn itself down?

However, this spectacle was almost commonplace. The bakery lights up and explodes randomly too, pegasus furniture has a habit of falling from the sky, and constant visits from strange creatures from the Everfree forest are merely signs that all is normal. So what if the library catches fire occasionally? There's really nothing to worry about.

Without a moment to lose, Twilight started reading where she left off:

First Hunt: Lizards (At least what I can remember)

As it turns out, Mr. Cake had a bad habit of not actually hunting anything at all ever throughout his whole career. Early in the morning there was a knock at my door. I quickly put on my undercoat and answered it. It was the local hunter Felyne. She introduced herself as "Opalescence" or something, I couldn't tell very well because her accent is completely different from our Felyne instructor's. She spoke like royalty, with proper inflections and accents, but still had that trademark Felyne language quirk. Behind her were several piles of documents.

"Each one of these is an unfulfilled request submeowted to the Guild that is within your territory. They are the result of at least one and a half decades of unfinished work. You are obligated to purrrsue these quests as soon as pawsible. Failure to comply will result in termnyanation of your hunter privileges."

"Hey, Opal, can i call you Opal?" I tried to break the ice, soften her up a bit. Some of my best friends were cats, and I'm proud of my flawlessly fluent Felyne. Surely if I get in good with the local Guild Felyne life would be much easier.

The cat shook its head no. Ugh. Tough crowd.

"Ok, ma'am. That's a pretty giant pile of contracts." It was. "You can't possibly expect me to realistically finish them all just by myself. I'm pretty sure some are probably expired by now, too."

"Nyope, these are the current standing quests. I don't expect you finish them all by yourself. I expect you to finish them all, and then keep up with the rest that come up on demand, for the rest of your purrfessional life. Ta Ta, see you tomorrow when i come check up on your pawgress."

With that, the cat lifted its tail and so casually walked away. Well, EX SCUSE ME, you big... fluffy... PRINCESS! I mean seriously all the other cats I had met were great pals. This one had to be one giant jerk ball of hair. I was a bit flustered and I'm pretty sure I had gotten just a little red in the face.

Lifting my head, I noticed a particularly girly looking pony staring right at me. She was completely pink, from her head to her tail, and her eyes were like giant saucers, staring into my soul. She was the first moderately attractive girl I had seen in this town. Just about my age, too, and the way she was looking at me, staring at me, was really making me feel uncomfortable. That's when it hit me.

I was standing there, by the door to an abandoned room, just barely woken up and not yet groomed, wearing what is essentially my underwear, and I just had a conversation with a cat. I wasn't just talking to a cat, I was arguing with it, in it's own language. To her it probably sounded like I was just meowing at it as it meowed back. Oh god no. Please god no.

I ran back inside and closed the door. Oh dammit, I forgot the pile of contracts outside. Looking through the peephole I could see the stack of papers on the floor. Is she still out there? Crap. She is. What do I do? Oh god she's walking this way! As fast as my hooves could move i almost jumped into my armor. She didn't see my cutie mark, did she? I hope not.

Surely enough there was a knock at my door again. My helmet was on in reverse so I just threw it aside. Boots? Check. Belt? Check. Chestpeice? Check. After taking a deep breath, I opened the door, expecting the worst. Of course, I first fumbled a bit with the knob out of incompetence, then tried to push it instead of pull. She's probably gonna call me weird for meowing and stupid for leaving those important papers on the floor. She's gonna make fun of my mane, laugh at my beat up armor, and insist I tell her my real name. Why does this always happen to me. As the door swung open I expected that judgmental pink pony to just break out in laughter.

Instead, there was silence. Nobody was at the door! I was certain I had heard the knock. Could I have been so distraught that I just imagined the worst possible scenario? Why do I do this to myself? Still, the relief of this so narrowly avoided disaster was overwhelming, and I let out the largest sigh i have ever let out in my life.

Oh well, not to wallow in self pity too much, I picked up the stack of documents and brought them inside. Looking behind me, I used a hind leg to kick the door closed, making it creak loudly at its first few uses in years. A very satisfying thump once again signaled the separation of my private affairs from prying eyes.

That is to say, only if the prying eyes were outside. They weren't.

"SURPRISE!" yelled an excitedly squeaky voice. A flurry of confetti and streamers flew in every which way. There were balloons everywhere, falling from the ceiling. My eyes could not believe it. The entire hall was decorated in ribbons and banners and glitter and those little metallic stars. Something exploded next to me, covering me in all kinds of multicolored dots of paper. Banners were hung on the walls, some of them read "Happy Birthday," some of them had "Welcome Home" and I swear I saw one that said "Get well soon."

Standing right in the middle of the chaos, there she stood. A tornado of color spun around the room, but where she walked it was calm, quiet. She was a pink eye of the storm, the rosy center of the rift between this world and the beyond. I was struck down with fear. Was she a demon here to finally punish me for what I had done? Some sort of supernatural monster who decided to strike me down before i even started?

In the academy they teach us that every living thing has to follow rules in order to stay alive. Us earth ponies need to eat to survive. Unicorns need a horn to cast magic. Pegasi need wings to fly. The Guild has actively analyzed and observed monsters that do not have similar rules. Some monsters can fly without wings, some can swim in earth and walk on water, some are made out of solid electricity, others can breathe fire. These might break the pony rules, but they are well within their own. As a hunter, we are trained to never doubt our observations simply because they break the rules. If we see something happen, usually, it means it can happen again. So there I was, staring at a creature who warped time and space to her whim, and for the first time I was scared for my life. I had no weapon to fight back with, no special chemical potion or armor to protect me. I stood there and took a moment to just simply accept my fate.

She casually trotted up to me, her big fluffy mane bouncing up and down with each little skip. Getting up really close to my face, she stared straight into my eyes. I could see inside her through those eyes. It was the abyss, staring back at me. From the furthest, darkest corner I saw a little spark. Just a flash. Then two. They were like the tiniest stars in the night sky. Four, eight, sixteen, the sparks doubled exponentially, and soon the dark abyss exploded in bright flashing swirls of light.

"HI! I'm pinkie pie!" the pony was almost exploding with excitement. "And although its quite the short notice, this party is for YOU!"

A party blower buzzed behind me, right at my ear. It was enough to distract me and turn to see who did it. It was pinkie pie. Pinkie Pie blew that party blower in my ear. Turning back quickly I saw Pinkie Pie once again standing in front of me. Turning around she was behind me again, buzzing the blower again. This has to be the afterlife. It has to be.

"See, I'm totally excited to have a roommate and I just have to party! Also, this is the room where I used to hide all my party supplies, well, I still hide all my party supplies here, or, well, I used to hide them but now they're not hidden at all! I live upstairs and I want to say welcome to your new home. Are you a hunter like Mr. Cake was? Is it why you moved in? I was keeping my party things here but now that you're living here I guess ill just move them out of the way. Or ill just keep them hidden so they don't bug you. So, mister, what's your name?"

"M...My name?" I stuttered. Get it together, PS, I practiced this. Whenever someone in this town would ask me for my name I'd be prepared to spin them a yarn about how I earned my special hunter name PS or something stupid like that, but at that moment I was so surprised and scared I had no idea what came out of my mouth. Well, I did. It was my real name. Oh man the very first civilian i meet and i already messed up.

Pinkie Pie started to giggle. "Its a very -cute- name." she said. "I like it a lot!" The word cute cut into me like the jaws of a hydra. I'm not supposed to be cute why did i say that. I tried to change the conversation to something else but we both got immediately distracted.

"BUT MY FRIENDS CALL ME PS!" Oh god this wasn't helping at all. GET IT TOGETHER OR SHE'LL EAT YOU ALIVE, STUPID.

Something exploded under my bed, making it rattle back and forth. A few moments later, a giant inflatable red pony shaped balloon wearing tribal buffalo headgear popped out from under my bed.

"Oh no, there goes the big finale! I wasn't expecting your bed to be there! The whole party is ruined now! I'll just reset the cannon and try again later."

A long, thin rope fell from the ceiling. It had a little wooden knob at the end, obviously meant for pulling. Pinkie Pie grabbed it and yanked it downward, then let go. The tension of the rope sent it flying back up through the little hole it came out of and made me wonder why I had not seen it before. There was a loud rumbling. I recognized that sound. It was the sound of giant wooden gears, like the ones found inside a windmill or watermill. Creaking and thundering, the sounds of motion filled the Hall, which was experiencing some very drastic changes. Walls were turning in on themselves, hiding all the banners and decorations, revealing only the plain wall paintings and trophies of the Hall. Decorated tables would sink into the ground and pop up again as plain as they ever were. The whole floor vibrated violently, causing all the confetti to sift through little vents which appeared. The big balloon under my bed deflated back into a panel on the floor so quickly it caused my bed to crash down with a tremendous rattle. Within moments, the largely decorated party hall was nothing more than just a regular hunting hall.

"I work here at the Sugarcube Corner, so I'll be around most of the time! Actually right now its time for work so I'll see you later! We're gonna be best buddies, I can FEEL it!" By the way her face was twitching, I wouldn't doubt she was feeling something.

As quickly as she entered she left, leaving me with a completely dumbstruck look on my face. Could you blame me? What just happened? This pony isn't a pony. She's some sort of pink chaos god. Was this place rigged from the start? Did she just will this room into existence? I literally could not move from my spot for several minutes.

After a while I finally sorted out everything. Hunting halls do have emergency modes that activate all sorts of hidden things in case of a surprise monster attack. Pinkie Pie probably just re-purposed it to hold parties instead. As for Pinkie Pie herself, well, it was probably me being really nervous.

I desperately wanted to get my mind off the subject, so I started going through the active quests and guild contracts I had so quickly forgotten about. The very first one, well, the one on top of the list, was a call to arms against a new monster nobody had ever seen before. The description was just "My caravan was attacked and destroyed and we never saw what did it, please hunt it down and save us from this threat."

Nope.

"Help us. Our small settlement was demolished by a beast who swims in the sand as if it was water! He can pop out from right under your feet at any given moment, he must be hunted to protect us.

NOPE.

"The guild has spotted a strange object headed deep into the Everfree forest. It was round like an air balloon, green with several tentacles draping downward, and flew using means we could not comprehend. We observed it open a giant mouth lined with two giant rows of teeth and suck in an herbivore lizard along with the surrounding trees. Please investigate and report back your findings."

Nope, nope, nope. NOPE.

"My chickens keep getting scared half to death by these pretty blue lizards that try to eat them. If it wouldn't be too much of a bother, could you please tell them to leave, or to not be so scary."

OH HELL N... wait. Actually this doesn't sound too bad. Wow, its actually very recent, too. What a perfect way to start my career. (Or so i thought.)

Although most of my gear got rearranged in the entire room shuffle that occurred, I was able to find all I needed to prepare. Clearing up the big table in the center, I started the most important part of the hunt, gearing up. My armor had several small pouches, each designed to specifically hold a certain item, but as hunters quickly learn, packing too much is the same as packing not enough. The quest was here in the outskirts of Ponyville, so I probably didn't need a map.

According to the contract, it was a few "pretty blue lizards." They could be anything from just carnivorous velociprey to fire breathing baby dragons, so i better pack some salve to cure burns. Mixing up some paint inside the material for a throwable bomb got me a crude paintball, which would make the monster more noticeable if it tries to hide and would rub off on the surroundings to help me track it if it ran. I really only need one.

Even though i wasn't going to fight any poisonous monsters, there was no way i was stepping a foot outside the Hall without an antidote. Different monsters had different venom, but the hunter Antidote worked not by cleansing the blood of toxins but rather, it gave a hunter lungs of steel. This drink, made of a bitter herb, would allow a hunter to breathe normally. This was important because monster poison either stopped you from breathing or paralyzed you. Obviously any sort of anti-paralysis potion would be completely useless, seeing as you can't possibly take it to cure the effect. I'll keep one close to my chest.

The hunting knife was always strapped on the belt. No exceptions. Each hunting knife is made specifically for each individual hunter, rumors are they are forged in the same fires as Celestia's own equipment, and it shows. These knives are used by us to cut and dress a dead monster, anything from the soft leather pelts of mammals to the impossibly tough skin of lava dwelling rock monsters. It can scrape off the sharpest of a dragon's scales and cut through the slimiest webbing of their wings. Its almost magical how these knives work, but unfortunately they're way too small to be used to hunt the monsters by themselves.

And, of course, it was important to pack the all powerful Hunter Potion. One of the first things we are taught is how to make this potion from multiple things in the wild: herbs, bugs, monster parts, sometimes even other less important potions. This potion, The Potion, was usually what kept a hunter alive. Sure, common sense, proper training, and survival instinct were important in keeping a hunter from danger, but once he was flank deep in trouble, suddenly the only friend a hunter had was his little flask of green juice. It quickly closed open wounds if applied to the skin, and if I were to drink it, it would trigger all sorts of flags in my body that would overdrive my healing and adrenaline. It was a painkiller, an antacid, it would let me breathe for a bit longer before poison killed me, it would momentarily restore movement in immobile limbs, and it tasted terrible. I packed two bottles.

All that was left was my weapon. This giant slab of metal called the Steel Greatsword. It in itself wasn't too heavy, I had used it plenty of times on mannequins and wooden posts with ease, nor was it sharp. A sword this big could not afford to be sharp, it would snap and break under its own weight on impact. It was simply just a really big double sided slab of metal that was meant to hit things really hard. Even then, you couldn't just swing this around and expect results. It took several classes with the same angry instructor to learn how to not trip on yourself while swinging this thing around. Although I had never actually hunted a single monster with any Greatsword, there were plenty of monster shaped strawmen who tasted my cold steel. I was confident today would be the day a real monster would meet his end by this thing.

All geared up and ready to go, I set off on my very first adventure. I unlocked the giant double doors and pushed them open. They cracked and popped and scraped as I strained to get them into their fully extended position. My situation was strange, my housing was unusual, my gear was unorthodox, but ill be damned if I didn't walk out of the famous Gathering Hall doors like every other hunter, even if there was a smaller door leading out right next to them and another door leading into the Sugarcube Corner indoors. A mission did not start unless you walked through those double doors.

Compared to a trip to a distant island or the desert sands of Appaloosa, getting to the house of the pony who wrote the request was done very quickly. It was a little overgrown cottage separated from the town, a quaint little bridge allowed me to cross the creek flowing through her front yard. The contract was signed by a certain "Fluttershy," whom I assumed was a mare. Even a pony with my name should be allowed to make fun of any stallion named like that. The cottage itself was very strange. It was clearly a house, but it looked like a pony had carved a home into a hill. Windows were haphazardly located around the grassy rooftop and walls, little animal shelters were scattered all over the yards and birdhouses hung from everywhere, including the chimney.

Oh no. She's probably some hippie animal rights activist. These types of ponies are more dangerous to us hunters than the monsters themselves. Could this be some sort of trap? Some kind of sick joke to trick me into wasting my day on a snipe hunt? Once again my own mind got the best of me, and for a long time I could not muster the courage to knock on the door. I reviewed the contract once again. It wanted me to get rid of lizards scaring the chickens. There's probably chickens in the back, and even though there's nothing but forest after that, I'm pretty sure its not the Everfree forest, which I am supposed to stay out of. Maybe she really was being attacked by velociprey.

This was supposed to be my very first hunt! How could I not go through with it? Who cares if it ends up being a waste of time, if I fail my very first request then that can only mean the rest of my career will soon follow! No. I was going to knock on the door and I was going to start the hunt no matter what.

Filled with a new confidence, I trotted straight up to the door and lifted my hoof to knock. It was one of those dutch doors, and I noticed too late that the top part of the door had been open for quite a while. There she was, a yellow mare with a pink mane. Absolutely every mare I have met so far in Ponyville has had pink hair of some sort. This one was considerably softer on the eyes than Ms. Cake's or Pinkie Pie's mane, though. There was a worried expression on her face as she looked at me. It wasn't strained and did not look out of place. I suspect it was actually the way she looked most of the time. She had probably been standing there for a long time, enough to see me internally monologue and debate about the legitimacy of the hunt, but compared to other things I have done today this was hardly something to be embarrassed about.

Clearing my throat, I introduced myself as "Local Guild Hunter, Hall Leader, and Ponyville Representative: PS"

"P.S.: what?" she replied. Her voice was so quiet and soft, it was difficult to understand her. However, all my life I've had to deal with big headed foals who think I haven't heard that joke a million times. Her execution sounded sincere enough, she must have tons of practice with this innocent girl routine.

"Haha," I turned on my sarcasm. "Yeah, real funny." God, she still looked confused. Get over it. "Anyway, I'm the hunter who has come to fulfill the contract you requested."

"Oh my! You're a hunter!" Her droopy eyes widened in amazement. "Someone a...actually cared enough to come! ooooh, thank you so much!"

She was getting excited. It was either genuine or massively sarcastic. I couldn't tell.

"Please come in!" she squeaked, but immediately corrected herself. "I mean, if its ok with you."
To be honest I did not want to get in that little shire mound, it was probably filled with about twenty cats, judging by the front porch, but not to be rude, I accepted. Its common courtesy to unsheathe your sword and place it on the inside of the doorway, but just as I had removed it from my back the yellow pony let out a giant "EEEP" and the door slammed in my face.

"On second thought... please go around to the back, ill explain everything there."

Seriously this was getting on my nerves. Even that other hyperactive pony was better company than this tree hugging hippie.

Going around was more difficult than it should have been. It was hard to tell when the house ended and the backyard began. It all looked like just a big hill with a tree growing on top. At this rate I wouldn't be surprised if she had big hairy hooves and was best friends with some gray wizard. There were animal houses all over the yard as well, and the clearly obvious chicken coop in the center.

A small circular window swiveled open, and Fluttershy peeked her head through it.

"Over there is the chicken coop. I've covered it with chicken wire but there are these big blue lizards that keep tearing it to eat the chickens. The poor things have to hide in the coop. I'm scared one won't make it into the coop in time. Please, Mr. Hunter, set out bait or traps or something to keep the lizards away."

"Lady, it doesn't work like that, but I'll see what I can do." It's true. Once a monster moves into an area the only way to remove it is to threaten its life with murder. I wasn't about to go have a nice little chat with a bunch of brainless, bloodthirsty animals.

The ground all around the chicken coop was torn and dug up violently. Clear tracks of carnivorous lizards were all over the yard, and the chicken coop itself was scratched with the deep, thick marks of a talon. Well, at least this isn't some prank, the coop actually is being harassed by monsters.

It wasn't hard to follow the tracks back into the woods. Broken branches, bite marks on trees, claw prints on soft soil, all of this was covered in tracking classes. What wasn't covered was how difficult it was to take a walk in a forest with a giant sword strapped to your back. My kilt got snagged on bushes, branches, rocks, twigs, absolutely everything in this forest wanted a piece of my armor. I don't want to remember exactly how many times I tried to pass between two trees only to get my sword stuck in between like I was one of the Three Pony Stooges. To be honest, I'm glad I was doing this alone, because looking back at how many amateur mistakes I made I probably wouldn't have been able to live it down in a real Gathering Hall. At one point, I got excited because the tracks were almost brand new and fresh, only to realize I had been following my own in a circle for several yards.

After a while, a bit longer than it should have been while, the tracks started to get fresher and I stumbled upon a clearing. There it was. It was about my size, not too big, and it was bright blue with a red crest on its head. A velociprey. It walked on two feet, both with giant talons, and had little stubby arms with claws. Its mouth was pointed and filled with razor sharp teeth, reminiscent of a beak. It's skin was covered in blue scales, with dark spots all around, and a long skinny tail jutted out the back. These velociprey were the living remnants of the dinosaurs of ancient times. They were what nature left behind, as dinosaurs quickly evolved into dragons and other similar monsters. This one, as it looked, was too busy worried about some injury to notice me. It was limping around the clearing, not even looking around to see if anything was gonna sneak up on it.

This was my chance. I could jump it and score my very first kill. It's wounded, alone, probably even disowned by the pack. If I kill it now, I'll be able to come back and dress the body once I've gotten rid of the rest. Not to mention velociprey are remarkably cowardly. If the pack realizes there's something that can threaten their lives, they'll probably migrate deeper away from civilization. I'll come back with new materials, a few bits in my pocket, and buy myself something nice. Yes. Today could not get any better.

I grabbed my sword as tightly as I could. It was within range, all I had to do is pop out of these bushes and plant this straight in its skull. Its totally gonna happen. My breathing got heavy. That's a bad thing. I was getting too excited, which leads to mistakes. No. I had to control my breathing, control my adrenaline. But no matter how hard I tried I could not stop making the loudest breathing noises ever. It was deafening. In an extreme effort to regain control of my own bodily functions, I held my breath. There was no way I was not going to be completely in control of this situation. However, even with my breath held perfectly still, I was still breathing heavier than I had ever breathed before.

Wait, that's not right. If I was holding my breath, then who is making that noise?

Almost sensing it, my target made a miraculous recovery and ran into the thick brush as if it wasn't injured in the slightest... Clever girl.

It was a trap. I could hear the sounds of several velociprey all around me.

Back at the academy, we were taught what to do in case of an ambush, other than the obvious "Don't get ambushed in the first place." A trap relied on surrounding the prey and blocking all forms of escape. To be ambushed meant that the monsters were trying to guess which direction you could and could not go. In case a hunter was in such a situation, he would simply... uh...

Well, in any case, I forgot. Staring down a few sets of teeth and claws makes a pony forget things. I did what my instincts told me to do, and that was to run. I turned hoof and ran. Scared for my life I ran as fast as I could. I didn't get very far before I cashed into one of the velociprey, obviously trying to block my escape. It worked a bit like a shoulder tackle, now that i think about it, and we both fell to the ground. It was scratching at my underside with its claws and biting at my neck the whole time. Luckily my armor kept it from hurting me too badly, and although it tore up the kilt-looking plaid overcoat, the actual armor stayed intact.

I was still scrambling frantically, hellbent on staying alive. Eventually my hooves found solid ground again and I started running into the forest again. Somehow I was free from the ambush, but that didn't mean I was safe from danger. Still outnumbered, I was being chased by monsters that were quicker and more nimble than me, monsters who could jump ten feet into the air and cut a tree in half with just one claw in their pinky toe. Not only that, the forest was so dense I couldn't even dream of swinging my sword to defend myself. It was better to just put it away and run for dear life.

Lifting the sword behind me, I let it fall into place on the sheath part of my armor. It was a cool mechanism that were like little clamps which stuck out my back. Just slapping the sword against it was enough to make them clasp tightly, attaching it to my armor. Now I was a bit more balanced and hopefully I wouldn't get stuck in between two trees like on my way over here. All around me I could hear the screeching calls of the lizards. Bushes would rustle and streaks of blue would cross over. It really was time to go.

Once again I took off into the woods. A velociprey would pop out from the foliage in front of me, making me change direction. A claw would scratch at me from some hidden place, trying to trip me. Talons would scratch at me, but my armor deflected it. After a while a single lizard jumped at me from behind and managed to plant its talons right on the gap between my belt and boots. With that leverage on me and the monster's own added momentum, I tripped and fell face first into the mossy ground. Within moments, three of them were already clawing at me. All i saw were teeth and claws, all I heard was screeches and the buckling of my armor. I started bucking in the air, kicking in every direction, desperately trying to get these monsters off of me. Sometimes i hit nothing but air, but sometimes I felt the solid impact of my hooves on something. Eventually I had some breathing room, and I burst out running again.

At this point I had no idea where i was going. Was I running in circles? Is this even the way back? The floor was starting to slant upwards sharply, and the ground wasn't soft and mossy anymore. It was rough, rocky ground, with sharp edges that seemed to actively try to trip me. One of my hind legs caught fire as I ran, or so it seemed. It burned with every step, and I felt the unmistakable trickle of wetness coming from the thigh. I was bleeding, badly. One of the monsters managed to cut me, and now, even if I managed to escape, even if i managed to outrun them, even if I managed to hide, they could easily follow my blood trail.

All seemed to be lost, that is, until I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Or, well, trees. The canopy above had all but blocked out the sun, but off at the distance, I could see light. There was a clear cut line just above the hill I was running up where all the trees stopped. A new vigor overcame me and I ran as fast as I could toward the tree line. Once I clear these trees ill be able to fight back! Once I clear the trees the monsters have no place to hide, no place to ambush! Heck, they might even stop chasing me once they realize the advantage is no longer on their side! As the line drew closer, I could still hear the lizards all around me, screeching and barking, keeping pace with me out of some sick mockery of my agility. Just they wait, they'll get what's coming to them. An imaginary finish line rope appeared at the last pair of trees I was to cross. Suddenly I was in a race, first place, with my eyes on the prize. It was the pony Olympics and the gold medal was the promise I was not going to die today. There is no way anything was gonna keep me from making it to safety. Just a few feet more, just a bit...

As I broke through the imaginary finish line the blinding light of the sun was reminiscent of the flash of pony reporters catching a photo finish. I did it. I won the race. The fresh wind blew through my crest and mane, roaring in my ears like the sounds of thousands of adoring fans. I felt lighter than air, as if I was on top of the world. This must be what victory felt like. What champion racers feel at the end of a competition. It felt like... falling.

For a split second time seemed to conveniently stop. I looked around as my eyes quickly adjusted to the new light. There was no ground at my feet. Behind me was a wall of rock, several angry velociprey screeching at the edge of it. Below me lay a sea of green, as wide as the horizon. The tops of trees all forming a canopy of little hills. Off in the distance I could see some houses, most likely the edge of town, and other than that, there was nothing. My mind processed this slowly until it came up with the most logical conclusion:

I had jumped off a cliff.

Funny thing is, as my body hurtled downward towards death, I felt strangely at peace. All my worries, all my problems, they were weightless there in freefall. My leg didn't hurt anymore. The monsters were no longer chasing me. I didn't have to worry about the giant stack of contracts I was obligated to complete, I didn't have to worry about leading an entire Gathering Hall by myself, I didn't have to worry about what those jerks at the other halls think of me. As a foal I wanted to be a genuine Monster Hunter like my idol, and as far as I'm concerned, I fulfilled that goal one hundred percent. I had no regrets.

Well, just one. That pink filly who tried to throw a party for me. I'm pretty sure I left a terrible last impression. Damn it. For years i was surrounded by gruff manly pony hunters, both male and female, and the first real girl I meet has me slack-jawed and speechless. If they never find my body it would look like I ran away from her. She must think I'm a...

Looking down I saw I could add a second regret to my list: not jumping far enough to clear the cliff walls for a peaceful, painless death.

In a display of gravity's unyielding thirst for violence, I crashed against the side of the cliff as it tapered outward. My body thrashed and spun as i rolled down, causing me to flip and turn in absolutely random directions. Sometimes I'd hit a rock that was jutting out and I'd bounce back out into the air, only to crash down against the wall again. I had only actually jumped about halfway down, most of the cliff was just a slope downward that was made out of sharp rocks, so most of my descent was a prolonged and painful roll down the cliff. Somewhere along in this little dance I lost consciousness, but I am fairly certain my body was able to finish rolling down the cliffside on its own.

Sadly, that thrashing did not kill me. As convenient as my death would have been, I guess fate wasn't going to let me go that easily. I eventually woke up. My body was mangled and beaten, limbs and extremities going in every direction, some in directions they aren't really supposed to go. Everything hurt in a way that broke the boundaries of what I thought was possible for pain to hurt. Breathing in hurt. Breathing out hurt. Trying to hold my breath so it wouldn't hurt made the whole thing hurt even more. For a moment, I had forgotten absolutely everything: who I was, what had just occured, what not being in extreme pain felt like, that sort of thing. Slowly, my brain started to come back to reality and everything that had happened eventually trickled into my memory as I lay there on the dead leaves and damp earth.

Crap, i was bleeding from a leg, wasn't I? How much time had passed? Actually, I'm pretty sure the act of falling off a cliff is a bit more unhealthy than bleeding. I needed medical attention immediately, but there was no conceivable way to get that here in the middle of the forest. If this kept up I would eventually just black out and die of blood loss, I had to do something right then and there while I still had the strength. Think, PS. That's right!, I packed a few potions for this trip. They might just be the thing I need to save my life.

I managed to will my forelegs back into their sockets and eventually sat up, trying to get control of the situation. Everything hurt so bad it was difficult to focus my eyes. Reaching for my supplies, I noticed that most of my armor was missing. My belt and the skirt, the entire left side of the chestpiece, all of my boots, and my poor silly hat were all gone, torn straight off my body as I fell. Luckily my sword was still firmly attached to what remained of my back armor, but it was chipped so badly you'd think the sword was supposed to be serrated. A bit up the hill lay a bunch of mangled bits of leather and metal, that must be the remnants of what used to be the guild exclusive limited edition trainee armor I would only get one of.

I had to drag myself up the hill, crawling with whatever part of my body that chose to respond. On the armor pile was my belt, and on my belt were those life saving green potions. Of course, the fall completely shattered one of the bottles, but the other one was more or less intact. During training, we were all forced to take a single potion as a part of the final exam in survival class. Many of us, present company included, failed the exam for being unable to keep the vile swill inside our bodies. However, to me at that moment, that single particular potion was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.

The effect was almost instantaneous. My muscles contracted involuntarily with such strength that they made my joints pop and reposition themselves. A sensation overcame my chest, something I could only describe as my lungs getting placed in a dishwasher. This caused me to cough savagely but eventually I was able to breathe normally, the pain completely gone. My head stopped pounding, I could see clearly now, and the hearing returned to my ears as the ambient sounds of the forest forced themselves into my head. I didn't even notice I had lost my hearing. Although I was still bruised and battered, cut and wounded, I was feeling absolutely fine on the inside, and if you really think about it, that's all that mattered. The other potion was broken but most of the liquid stayed in the pouch. Using a torn up rag from my armor I dabbed some of it on my leg. It stung like salt and lemon and alcohol and some sort of super salty alcoholic lemonade, but it immediately stopped my bleeding and sealed up my wound better than a suture. At that particular moment in time I don't believe I had a healthier or more deeply felt respect for any object in the universe than that there potion.

Filled with a new vigor, I got to work gathering as much of my armor as was salvageable. Two boots, a half of a belt, and what used to be some sort of chunk of metal now too disfigured to properly identify. This would have to do. There was enough of the belt left to cover my cutie mark. It was vain, it was silly, it was just plain stupid to care about my cutie mark at such a time but I really had nothing left to lose but my dignity at that point, I was going to hold on to it as hard as i could. I remembered that on my way down I caught a glimpse of Ponyville, at least I'm not lost. There's really nothing left to do but to limp back home with nothing but a broken sword and body. Its not like these missions go away. Tomorrow I'll be staring down the exact same pile of requests, and hopefully I'll do a bit more research before jumping head first into the next one. A quest, even if completed, is failed if the hunter didn't learn from it. I can easily say I have learned something important in this one.

Navigating the remaining forest with completely ruined equipment was a bit of a hassle. I'd have to leave a pile of stones or use my terribly broken sword to chip a clearly visible chunk off a tree, line them up and go forward to another landmark, only to repeat again once the trail got too hard to see. It wasn't hard, just really time consuming. By the time I crossed the treeline it was completely dark. The full moon was shining as bright as it has for hundreds of years, and today was a particularly clear day. A few rolling hills more and the bright lights of civilization were visible off in the distance. Eventually the ground gave way to paved street, and paved street yielded to the familiar cobblestone floor of the Gathering Hall. After closing the double doors and locking the windows, I collapsed someplace on the floor, nowhere near my bed, completely exhausted.

Still, I was unable to sleep. Have you ever been so tired, so absolutely drained, that you can't even make yourself sleep? It felt a bit like an out-of-body experience. There I was, on the floor, out of adrenaline, out cold but completely conscious. It must have been the effect of the potion trying to keep me alive. Only the sound of my heart, the sound of my breathing, and a quiet, almost inaudible whimper accompanied me.

No. That couldn't be right. Sure I can cry, sure I've been known to break down in tears and slurp up my snot like a child, but this wasn't the sound a wounded pony like me would make. It was desperate. I could hear the plea but I knew not where it came from. A few feet from my face, I saw a single fiber. A single strand of some sort of animal hair, sprouting from the floor like a tiny blade of grass. My eyes fixated on it while my ears pressed harder against the ground. I could hear sobbing now. Very quiet sobbing. Was someone crying next door? Outside my window?

That's when I saw it move. The string that so innocently jutted from the ground tugged on itself and moved, just ever so slightly. Something was down there, under my floor, whimpering and crying, and it had a very long hair which was... what color is that? PINK?

Once again, against my entire body's wishes, I forced myself up. I was running on pure willpower by then, and by some miracle I managed to grab on to the little pull cord sticking out of the ceiling and gave it a sharp tug. The entire gathering hall once more began to rumble and shake, its entire structure twisting and warping thanks to some very large and complicated machinery. The floor directly in front of me opened up and there she was, the crazy party pony who greeted me in the morning, a so called Pinkie Pie. However, she was not in the same spirits as I left her. Her whole body was limp and with every short breath she drew a little cry or whimper was released. She was hurt and it looked pretty serious. What was she doing down there? Does a pony even fit in that hole? Did she get stuck there or did someone put her there? Dragging myself to the cabinets, I grabbed a single hunter potion and brought it to her, collapsing on myself a few times on the way and back.

"Please drink this. It tastes terrible but trust me, Ok." I think I said that, but I was so weak myself I probably just thought it out loud.

Her eyes were still distant but at least her mouth opened up a little bit. She probably heard me. I tilted the bottle into her mouth slowly and watched as she struggled to swallow just one gulp. With that cue, my body decided it was time to clock out. I lost my hearing again, my eyesight clouded up, and in one final decisive motion I slumped over sideways. That was it, I was done.

Twilight noticed that this part was the end of the entry. She also noticed the rest was pure gibberish. Her hour had come up. What a terrible experience this hunter must have had, on his first day no less. He wasn't exactly the heroic figure the other ponies had implied he was, but Twilight had just barely finished reading the second day, perhaps it got better over time. One thing was for certain, this one particular hunter did not match her prejudicial stereotype of a typical hunter in the slightest. Hunters, according to Twilight's older brother, are inconsiderate jerks who are only out for the glory of a fight rather than to protect or keep any sort of order. The dismantling of the guild did nothing but good, he said, because it stopped those big-egoed maniacs from being in places of power.

How could you argue? There have been plenty of stories of hunters riding monsters straight into towns and settlements, setting up explosives or traps in populated areas, and causing all sorts of collateral damage just to hunt a single beast. They didn't care about the well being of the population. The whole point in Monster Hunting was to kill the biggest and baddest monsters and get the best materials to get rich and make a name for yourself.

Come to think of it, back in Canterlot Shining Armor told Twilight to keep away from every single hunter, and to never wander into the lower city. He would tell stories of how hunters would mistreat just random people that even looked at them funny. The one night she will never forget was the time Shiny came back from some awards ceremony completely enraged that he received a lesser award than a pair of hunters. He kept calling them Red and Green, based on their armor no doubt, and how nothing they did would have been possible had it not been for his brilliant strategies and defenses. They stole the show just by being flashy and getting all the attention. He wanted twilight to promise to never trust a hunter as long as she lived. Realistically that was impossible to promise, but she did give her word she would be very cautious around hunters.

Strangely enough, now she's completely raveled in this story of a fledgeling hunter and his impact on this town. Only being able to piece together bits at a time was driving twilight up the wall. Something had to be done. An hour a day was not adequate at all, especially if this book really did cover the greater part of a year of notes. She needed stronger magic, a tighter bond with the reading gods, some lessons on how to read shorthoof, ANYTHING to help speed things up.

"Spike!" she called, "Come here for a moment."

"What's up, Twilight?" he replied. "Is your hour over? Did you finish the book?"

"No, no. This is going to be harder than I thought. I'm going to see if I can find some stronger magic in the Everfree forest. Maybe I'll give Zecora a visit. In the meantime I want you to take down a note, I'm going to write my letter to Celestia now before I forget."

Spike readied his quill and parchment. He carried them at all times.

"Dear Princess Celestia, I've learned that no matter how difficult the day is for you, no matter how many problems you might have, no matter how tired or hurt you might be, if a friend is in need you should always try your hardest to lend a helping hand. You can never know when someone's day has been worse than your own."

"Wait a minute, Twilight." Spike interrupted. "When did you learn that? I haven't seen you leave the library all day! Are you just making this stuff up now?"

"No!" ugh, the nerve of this little dragon. She would never cheat! "I've learned this through reading this journal."

"But Celestia said that things you learn in books don't count!"

"This isn’t a book, Spike. Its a journal. Its the retelling of actual events that happened to actual people that actually existed from their point of view within a short amount of time after it actually happened. Not only that, I used magic to read it so I might as well have been there myself."

"Alright, fine." Spike finished writing the letter. "I'll send it this time, but I've got my eye on you."

Chapter 4: First Hunt Part 2

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Chapter 4

"Uh, Twilight..."

Spike was standing over a living room covered in tribal masks, boiling cauldrons, and all kinds of glass jars with anything imaginable in them. The lights were dim and the air was humid, filled with smoke. Eerie greenish and yellow toned lights glowed from several of the jars, the cauldrons bubbled with strange smelling liquids.

"Oh good, Spike, you're back." Twilight was holding a dripping paintbrush, herself covered in all sorts of white stripes and designs. "I need help drawing the lines on my back, could you help me out?"

Bewildered but still driven by habit to help out, spike grabbed the brush and jumped on her back.

"All you have to do is connect the stripes from one side of my body to the ones on the other side. I'd use a mirror but it’s too dark to see and they need to be perfect."

It was easy enough. "What's with the war paint and Halloween decorations, Twilight? Are we gonna throw a costume party? I'll kinda want to use my cape and top hat costume, but only if you make me grow another moustache! Yeah that will be great!"

"No, Spike. I’m trying to do a magic spell. Yesterday i spent the whole day trying to find a way to extend the hour i get to read the journal, and i think i might have it. Zecora said it best:
If a pony's privacy you must invade,
then try this potion for which i made.
It will help you break the code
but bad omens it will bode."

"Bad omens? What kind of bad omens?" Spike had such a nasty habit of always looking at the worst of things.

"Don’t worry about it, it’s probably just the implication that if I ever misuse this potion to spy on people it can strain friendships. The worst case scenario would be the gods I have been paying tribute to do what I can now do for free would get upset."

"WHAT"

"But don't worry, i have already prepared a very large offering to beg for mercy in case the full wrath of the gods comes down on us, this shouldn't be too bad. Here, take this checklist and help me do the final preparations."
A checklist for a recipe? Only twilight would figure out how to do a checklist for something that basically functions as a checklist already. Spike grabbed the page and started from the top.

"Eye of newt, dragon's tongue, manticore blood," as spike read each entry, Twilight would grab a jar or bowl and throw something into one of the cauldrons. Each new ingredient caused a puff of smoke or spark of light. "Uh... Twilight these ingredients are a little weird. Kraken slime, gorgon's kiss, u..unicorn liver." Spike's eyes widened in surprise, "LITTLE GREEN AND PURPLE BABY DRAGON HEARTS?! Twilight what kind of ingredients are these?!"

"They're just archaic names for common household herbs, Spike. Dragon's tongue is just a normal hot pepper, manticore blood should be a dash of cinnamon, and baby dragon hearts are coriander. The green ones are not yet ripe and the purple ones are fermented. Don't get too worried, i wouldn't use the heart of my best assistant for some measly potion."

Spike felt relieved.

"I'd save that for a summoning ritual."

Several individual mixtures boiled in the cauldrons. A very tribal looking Twilight stood in the center, the smoke of the brews swirling around her in a dance of dark arts.

"Keep reading the checklist, Spike! It’s almost ready!"

"Oh... right... uh, genprey scales, sunset herb, secret mushroom, wyvern tears," By then the whole library was filled with an unnatural aroma. There was only one more ingredient on the bottom of the list. It was simply labeled as a question mark. "Twilight, the last item is a mystery. What do we do?"

Twilight, overcome with the fumes and smoke around her, started a chant as she held an item in her hooves. The tribal stripes all over her body started to glow brightly, magic overcoming them as they stopped being painted on and started moving, shifting, warping all around her skin.
A brew to see the secrets kept
A drink for all the tears unwept
A potion for the rage within
A tonic for the private sins
Let us drink to find the truth inside
This coded book so quickly hides

A final explosion of smoke and fire surrounded twilight. Her magical markings started to rise from her body like drafts of vapor and mix with the dense smoke around her. They began to stream steadily into each cauldron, blending with the brew and infusing it with the magic.

It was finished. The concoctions stopped swirling and glowing, becoming pale orange colored water in the pots. Without hesitation, twilight began to ladle the liquid into vials, empty glasses, mason jars, just about every sealable container in the library. Spike lent a hand, stacking the filled jars into piles.

"Twilight what was that last ingredient you had in your hooves?" Spike would admit this was a particularly cool spell. Twilight doesn't dabble too much with potions and alchemy. This little cooking show was a welcome relief from all the tornadoes and whirlwinds and earthquakes she usually caused indoors.

"In order to get this potion to work, i needed something from the target. Usually it’s a tuft of hair or a scale, a personal item like a toothbrush or comb, or some other item of that nature. I followed the hints in the journal: rolling hills, tree carvings, rock piles, the direction the cliff was facing, stuff like that, and i eventually made my way to the base of the cliff the hunter fell from."

Twilight was doing it again. Spike had not read the journal; he wouldn’t have any idea what she was talking about. This was actually quite common, the little baby dragon just learned to nod and agree until she started talking sense again.

"I did a little searching around the cliff base for anything that belonged to the hunter, scraps of hair or dried up blood or something, and to my surprise there was some of his armor still there, rusting on the cliff edge!"
Twilight gave spike the item. It was just a rusty bucket with a lip on one end. What kind of armor is this? What could this thing possibly protect?

"You're holding it upside down, spike. It’s a hat. All of the leather and cloth is gone, obviously, thanks to it being exposed to the elements for several years. I’m lucky i found this. With an artifact this big and important, the potion is bound to work!"

Twilight walked over to the pile of jars and vials. She looked around, carefully contemplating which one to take. An uncovered mug caught her eye. Filled to the brim with the brew, she recognized that particular cup as the novelty mug she bought that had a map of the stars, constellations of several pony gods highlighted. How appropriate. Spit in the face of the gods then drink from their cup.

A deep breath to prepare for the unexpected. The whole process was done correctly, all the ingredients checked out, but even with all the precautionary measures there was a good chance the potion wouldn’t work. Or worse. That’s why twilight didn’t particularly like alchemy and potions. The nature of the magic was always so random, so chaotic. Looks like twilight would have to risk it.

In one swift motion she downed the drink, bottoms up. It was spicy but with a hint of citrus. Odd, considering not a single fruit was involved in the process. Actually, compared to that other stuff applejack gave her last week, this wasn’t too bad.

"Now to wait for the effects..."

"What do i do with the rest of the bottles, Twilight?" Spike couldn't help but worry about the giant pile of orange bottles taking up a whole corner of the library.

"If the potion works I won’t need them, I’ll let you know if you can start throwing them away."

"WHAT? You only needed ONE? Why did you make so much of the stuff anyway?"

"Spike, it’s better to be prepared. It took a whole day to get the ingredients and a half a day to paint all those markings on myself. I’m not going to do that again. Besides, it made a lot more than i thought it would make. Let me grab the journal so i can see if this is workinnnnn..."

Twilight's pupils dilated to their maximum size. She was looking outside the window of her house, way up in the sky on a cloud. Ponies were walking around, living out their lives and minding their own business. They were so small, so insignificant, like ants. Little tiny ants that didn't know they were about to be squished. Twilight thrust her blue hooves forward, as if to step on the ant-ponies. You're dead. You too. Oh look you're dead. Ha! This is really fun. Well, it was fun. It’s boring now. Back in her cloud house she walked to the kitchen. Some oats were in the pantry. A glass jar of milk was in the fridge. A box of Wheaties was on the table, the black and white image of a famous athlete pony on the front. It was someone from a long time ago; apparently they're running "classic" athletes series of box art for the moment, this one particular pony being from the first brigade of the Wonderbolts. The mane of the athlete was colored in with a marker, well, several markers of every color in a rainbow pattern, and a familiar lightning bolt cutie mark was drawn over the original. She remembered doing that. It was pretty funny. One day, Twilight, one day you'll be the one on the box.

"TWILIGHT!" Spike shook her desperately. "HELLO? ANYONE IN THERE?

Twilight's pupils returned to their normal size as she snapped out of her daze. What in the world was that? It felt so realistic! Did the potion do that? It was amazing! Was this a side effect of the potion?

Clairvoyancy was no stranger to Twilight. There were at least 2 spells she could think of off the top of her horn that would let her see through the eyes of other living things. This, however, was much stronger. For one, the target was way up in the clouds. All the spells she's even heard of required either physical contact or line of sight. Not only that, it really felt like she was Rainbow Dash! All her memories, all her thoughts, they were all there completely open! Curses! She should have taken advantage of that.

"You know what, Spike, let’s just keep the potions. All of them. We might need them later."
Twilight opened the hunter's journal and saw that the words once again were completely legible. Good. The potion works AND has an interesting side effect. More research will need to be done, but later. The book summons her and she must respond.

First Hunt: Part II

I woke up alive today.

That in itself was an accomplishment and something halfway towards a miracle. Well, I didn’t actually "wake up," so to speak. I regained consciousness and tried to open my eyes, but i was so sore, so tired, so weak, that even my eyelids wanted to stay closed. "It’s ok," I told myself. I felt the cushion of my bed, I felt the soft down of my pillow on my head, a cool breeze on my face, and this was enough. It told me I was alive. I was hurt but I was breathing; my muscles were so sore that even the thin blankets draped over me felt like an immobilizing weight pushing me down against the bed.

I took in one deep breath. My bed sheets were up against me, or so it felt like, and I caught a big whiff of their scent. They smelled like a warm loaf of bread, with some sweet sugary tones and just the minor hint of wheat and yeast; a consequence of being in a bakery, no doubt. One by one, piece by piece i tried to assume direct control of my body. I moved my right leg out just a bit. Good. My left leg didn't move though, it felt like something was blocking it, holding it down with just a gentle amount of force. My right foreleg also freely moved out and in, albeit not without an incredible amount of effort. My left foreleg was also immobile, however this time i clearly felt something on top of it. Still my eyes would not open. Moving my face to the left made it bump against something very soft and warm. It must be a pillow or something. I rubbed my cheeks against it, the warmth it radiated was so nice and it smelled so good i couldn’t help it.

Slowly, i moved my free hoof over to the other side of my body, wincing at the sharp pain but eventually grabbing the pillow in a full-fledged hug. It was just so comforting. My whole body was in pain, and I still couldn’t force my eyes open, but just the fact i had something so nice to rest on made all my troubles melt away. The weight of the pillow was crushing one of my limbs, yet I didn't want to move it. The fibers of the pillow tickled my nose and its soft heat eased my pain. I could have stayed hugging that pillow forever. Whenever I squeezed it slightly, it made a high pitched squeak like a dog's chew toy. The sound made me chuckle a bit and i squeezed it a few times more, trying to figure out what kind of pillow even does that.

That is, until i heard the pillow giggle.

My eyelids burst open, pupils constricted to little tiny dots. Once again I was staring into the face of chaos. There she was, lying next to me, staring straight into my soul. This pink pony succubus had appeared in my bed. My pulse started to race. What do I do? Run like a coward? Hide somewhere? My body's inability to respond to either fight or flight gave me really just one option, accept my fate. I broke the hug and returned to my original lying position. I closed my eyelids shut and started a silent prayer. If she wanted to suck out my soul and drink all my blood I’d just let her. I’m halfway dead anyway.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Pinkie Pie got up from the bed.

She was happily trotting around the room, looking at the decorations, twisting her head sideways at the artwork. Racks of monster horns and antlers, wood carvings of beasts of old, ancient superstitious runes engraved on tables for good luck, all these things which were quite commonplace in a Guild Hall went under her carefree scrutiny.

"Usually all this stuff was covered in blankets." Some antlers found a way to the top of her head. "This stuff is really cool!"

She was acting so untroubled by this. How did I get to my bed? Why was she there with me? What exactly happened to her last night? How is it that she's so perky and I can barely move?

The thought of moving must have jinxed me. Sitting up, I opened up my mouth to start a long string of carefully worded questions that would demand answers, but instead I started coughing up blood.

"Oh, you're doing it again. Good!"

Oh god what.

"I've been giving you this smelly green stuff all night, but you just recently started coughing so i mixed it with some honey to help your cough, but then you stopped breathing for a long time I thought I wasn’t going to be able to test it out!"
NO! What was she doing, trying to kill me? Combining items is a difficult and risky procedure! Any change in ingredients could accidentally cause conflicts and turn antidotes into poisons. Hundreds of hunters have died trying to come up with this now perfected recipe.

I saw the hooves I coughed into were coated in blood. None of my instructors mentioned honey as a potentially lethal ingredient when mixed with the potion, and since I was pretty much hocking out a lung, I didn’t really have any say in the matter. Pinkie shoved a glassful of the stuff into my mouth and I let it go down the hatch.

Long story short: It worked. It worked better than I could ever imagine. The potion with honey ended up curing everything I had. Within minutes I was out of bed and walking around. Pinkie held up a mirror for me and i saw the dozens of giant bruises all over my body slowly shrink and eventually vanish. The wound on my leg would tingle as I felt the actual fibers of skin reattach.

Pinkie grabbed my hooves and started to dance around in celebration. To be honest i was so happy I started to dance around too. Music played, and I think she started to sing a song. I think it was titled “Stuck under the floor until the hunter comes home.”

"Ever since you got here you haven’t smiled at all." she said. "When you were making angry meowing noises at opal, when you were sitting there in your underwear during the party, when you sat outside of Fluttershy's house mumbling to yourself for a while, and when you came back and saved my life, not a single smile. Not even as you kept fainting all night. Nothing until right now! Congratulations!"

So that's what she was after the whole time. No punishment for my past sins, no thirst for my blood, she’s simply a normal pony who, uh, likes to make ponies smile. A large burden fell from my back as I finally could see this pony girl for what she really was. Sure she was strange, and sure she could somehow be in two places at once, but her intentions were good and, quite frankly, I don't mind her company.

She hung around for a bit and asked if she could borrow the antlers on her head. They're just decorations; we don’t really hunt anything with actual antlers, so i let her take them. Most of the time i was still a bit worried she'd say something about our little encounter. However, she never mentioned what happened in the bed and didn't look too upset, so I'm not going to let that hang over my head either. Pinkie Pie might be the kind of mare that forgets silly embarrassing things. I wish I could say the same about me. Walking out the door she bumped her head, the antlers were way too big to cross the door jamb. I opened up the big double doors for her instead, and she straightened up and walked through them with her head held high like a hunter, probably out of respect, or well, at least as much as you could give while wearing giant antlers.
I watched her leave. She was headed into town with those things on her head. I could only admire her cheerful demeanor she kept even when accidentally bumping into trees and fences. I know i wouldn’t have the courage to wear something silly in public. Hell, i don’t even show my cutie mar...

OH GODDAMNIT. I patted myself down, hoping to feel my armor or at least my padding. Nope. I wasn't wearing anything. My armor was completely destroyed yesterday. Oh god no. Pinkie Pie saw it, didn't she? My cutie mark! Both my hooves were on my face. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Yes, you are."

The voice startled me, especially since it was in Felyne. That darned guild cat, Opal, was on my dinner table, looking at me with the most smug expression her furry whiskered face could pull off.
"It has come to meow attention that you failed a quest yesterday. Not purrly that, but the entire quest was handled so badly you were almeowst killed. I'd reprimand you for taking on a quest that would be higher than your hunter rank allowed, but you did not. You somemeow managed to fail a beginner level mission in such a specatular way that I think you deserve some sort of award."

She grabbed an envelope with a bright red wax seal on it and placed it on the table.

"As for your armor, the guild will supply you with a mew set of simple leather coverings. I should be wise to order several more befur the whole guild goes under, seeing how quickly you destroyed your first. You could expect it to arrive in a few meownths. In the meantime, try to take quests that won't kill you so easily; or at least try to die somewhere easy to find."

Opal jumped down from the table and walked out of the room, her stupid tail flapping around as high in the air as possible. Good Riddance. It was just what I needed to completely sour the moment. What was that letter she left? I opened it up and started to read it.
It was an announcement. A town-wide invitation to a funeral:

In loving memory of Ms. Bessie Fields, our beloved milk cow

Daughter of Betsy and Boss Fields,

Who died bravely defending her herd during a monster attack

"Weep not that she isn’t, rather cheer that she once was."

You are cordially invited to blah blah blah... Sweet Apple Acres... noontime...

My eyes focused on the ominous phrase, "Monster Attack." When did this happen? Was this recent? Seeing as it’s a funeral it probably was very recent, stupid. As the town hunter, it was my duty to attend that funeral; to find out what happened. Could some monster attacked while I was out on my first mission? Was this something inevitable or could I had stopped it?

The funeral wasn’t until later on in the day, these questions would have to wait. In the meantime my efforts were better spent finding a replacement for my armor; something to cover up this accursed sign on my flank at least. I had a spare set of cotton padding that goes under my armor. It made me look like i was late for a 1940's game of pony football, but it would have to do.

I still didn't know much about this town. I’m pretty sure I didn't introduce myself to anypony other than the Cakes and Pinkie (that yellow one in the cottage doesn’t count), so i decided to pay the baker couple a visit once more for directions to the local weapon and armor smith.

The bakery was full of patrons. Mrs. Cake was working the register and Mr. Cake was frantically handing out all sorts of sweets and goodies. They worked flawlessly, elegantly; like a well-oiled machine. She would duck and move out of the way of his trays and tongs without even looking, and he would so easily distribute even the most complicated orders to every patron exactly like Mrs. Cake told him to. Well, it’s no wonder they made this place into a bakery. This is probably what these two were born to do.

"Well look at that, cupcake." Mr. Cake said, his hooves working his magic without him even paying attention to them. "P.S. is totally fine! I told you us hunters are made out of stronger stuff."

"Oh thank goodness," she replied. She wasn't relieved that I was still among the living, but rather, she was relieved there was an extra pair of hooves available. "I kept insisting we take you to a hospital, but honey bunches kept saying you would just need to sleep it off. P.S., be a dear and help us out. In the kitchen the ovens are done baking all the muffins. Just take them out of the oven and place them on the counter to cool. We'd do it ourselves but it’s a bit busy here."

I figure since I needed a favor, i might as well give a favor back. The kitchen had four ovens, each with three racks and two trays on each rack. These guys really meant business. I don’t know my way around a kitchen too well, most of a hunter's diet consisting of large chunks of soy steaks or king wheat that can be grilled over any makeshift fire. The armor padding I wore acted like an oven mitt as I removed the muffins, making the job much easier for me.

As I finished, Mr. Cake walked into the kitchen breathing a sigh of relief. The rush was over, apparently, as all the consumer ponies left to start up their workdays. He was dragging a very large box in front of him, judging by how it scraped on the floor and how he struggled; the box must have weighed plenty.

"So I hear your first hunt didn't go so well," he casually observed as he sat on his box to rest, a bit of a smirk in his face. "That's perfectly normal. Why, I remember my very first hunt. I was supposed to gather some giant herbivore eggs, simple enough. But I accidentally mistook the nest of a big bird with that of a fire breathing wyvern. So there I was, walking back to camp holding this giant egg in my hooves, when I hear the loudest and most angry roar I have ever heard in my life, and I see a big green Rathian flying overhead. I thought she was angry then, but you should have seen how angry she got when I DROPPED her egg running away. Needless to say I was in the hospital for a few days after. That was back then when the catbulance service was still in effect. It’s a shame I was out of it while the guild cats rescued me. I would have paid good money to see a bunch of them distracting a monster while they dragged my body into a cart and hauled me to safety."

I had heard about that. Hunters during the Guild's heyday had it easy. Cats who would keep an eye on you as you hunted and would rescue you from death like clowns at a rodeo? I'm lucky the guild gave me breakfast the day after I graduated. Still, back in the day there were many more rules and I probably wouldn't have been able to get away with using a sword instead of a bowgun.

"Opal also told me your armor is completely destroyed as well. Is that true?"

I nodded my head. Please don't ever ask why it’s wrecked, there's no dignifying way to explain that.

"Well, you're in luck. Me and the Missus were just about ready to throw away everything we ever owned that connects us to our former lives. She's got her guidebooks and I’ve got my armor and bowgun. You're free to take them if you like; you look like you need them... however, only on one condition."

The whole kitchen's atmosphere changed in a second. Not even the white and pink decorations could blunt the sudden dire change in mood. The lights seemed to dim all around me and the way Mr. Cake stood over me made it look like I was being interrogated. Mr. Cake had a fire in his eyes like I've never seen on any pony before, and his voice was just so serious it made me cower back into myself like a turtle.

"I am in charge of protecting Pinkie Pie. Her father is a close friend and he told me to keep her safe. I see you two have already met. I also see Pinkie didn't make it to her room last night. I wonder, where could she have been?"
Like the first time he grilled me a few days ago, I suspect that question was purely rhetorical. He knew exactly where she spent the night.

"She's a smart girl. I trust her judgment. However, I know exactly what we hunters are capable of. Even the most careful girls get worn down and break eventually. I'm not gonna let that happen. If you so much as trick her into sharing a single milkshake with you I swear I’ll feed you to the hungriest of the wolves i can find."

Standing up from the box, he opened it up and revealed all the items inside. His tone once again shifted back to his usual, awkward, cheery self.

"But as long as you're a nice guy you can use our stuff, right Honeybun?"

Mrs. Cake was at the door, raising the light dimming switch back up to full power. She merely pointed a hoof at her eye, then toward me, and then she drew the hoof across her neck from ear to ear before walking her husband out of the kitchen.

I think... I think I'm in a bit too deep for my liking. It's not like I could explain what happened with that Pinkie Pie, I don't understand it myself. It should be ME who needs to keep his wits about him around that filly.

"Oh, before i forget," Mr. Cake peeked his head into the kitchen. "That armor isn't going to fit a short guy like you. You should take it to the seamstress to get the buckles and belts repositioned. It's the big Carousel-looking place. You can’t miss it."

I remembered seeing it stick out like a sore thumb during my grand entrance. Since the Guild Hall is located in a candy coated bakery, the Smithy would naturally be inside a carnival ride. Naturally. As silly as this sounds, perhaps this town's tendency to decorate houses in ridiculous themes might actually be a good thing. Countless nights I would be lying awake in the academy, wondering about what would happen if instead of a hunter I was a monster. If I was smart enough, I’d attack the food stockpile of a town, the blacksmith's forge, stuff like that to ensure its complete destruction. However, I could imagine how confused a monster would be when he has to pick whether to destroy the house made out of candy, the merry-go-round, or a giant tree with windows. With my luck I know I'd end up destroying the pony hut that yellow shy one lived in instead of some important building.

Inside the box were a whole bunch of books, a bowgun that looked like it had never been fired before, and the armor I remember seeing Mr. Cake wearing during our first impressions. All of the armors I had experience with were made up of 5 major pieces: helmet, chest piece, gauntlets, boots, and belt. Gauntlets were separated from the boots because they had special devices to stabilize the bowguns and hooks to pull back the bowstrings and load arrows faster. A swordsman like me didn’t need all that fancy stuff getting in the way so my trainer told me to just wear two sets of boots. This armor came with gauntlets, the left one being armored much heavier than the right. When it comes to armor it is better to simply not wear items that you are unfamiliar with, so i might have to go halfway barehoof for a while. I took out the books and the gun and just carried the box with the armor inside.

The "Carousel Boutique" was visible from just outside the door. It was a brisk walk, especially with that box on my back, and I couldn't help but notice everyone would turn their gaze at me as I passed. To be honest, other than the day I first walked in, I had not revealed myself to the town. This must have been the first time the public had seen me. I'm glad was hiding my cutie mark in these armor liners.

The front door of the boutique was also one of those Dutch doors with two separate hinges like in the yellow pony's house, probably a necessity out here in semi-rural civilization. The porch and walls were sophisticatedly decorated however, a far cry from the haphazardly placed birdhouses of that other place. It wasn't a random assortment of stuff that fit a theme like all the other strange locations here. This one had style, it had order, it was about as designer as a house made out of a giant carousel could be. I wondered about the pony inside. All i knew was that she was a seamstress.

I imagined an older mare, probably a widow, dressed in a plain brown dress and white apron, hair tied up tightly in a bun to keep it from getting in the way of her work, thick rimmed glasses on her eyes, and needles in her mouth as she held up measuring tapes against headless mannequins. I wonder if asking her to modify something like this armor, with all those spikes and tight leather pants would scare someone with such simple ponyville sensitivities. Knocking on the door, I waited eagerly for a response.

"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly.

The door was open, and I assumed she called me in because she was busy with other things. A few steps into the boutique and my severely delayed hunter senses kicked in. Something was wrong, very wrong. Cold chills ran through my spine, and I instinctively turned around, ready to run at the exit. Sadly it was too late. The door slammed closed and there she stood, locking the bolts secure.

She was the most intimidating pony I had ever met. Her vibrant, catlike eyes batted the longest lashes I have ever seen. Her mane flowed in a long purple curl that shimmered as brightly as her immaculate white coat. The way she stood, the way she walked toward me, the way her stare reduced me to a little whimpering pile of a pony, it reeked of elegance, of finesse, of pure class.

While out on the streets on off days, hunter ponies at the training academy would go out into town to have a good time. Plenty of cat calls were made, pickup lines were tossed around drunkenly like darts, and a filly couldn't walk a block without some crass hunter asking if she'd like to see his "bowgun" up close. However, since we shared Canterlot with the elite unicorn ponies, sometimes a mare would walk by that was so stunning, so refined, so incomparably female, that even the coarsest of us couldn't manage a single word as we watched her pass. There I stood in the vicinity of such a pony, trying my hardest to stay standing up.

She started circling me like a shark, eying me down. Once she had her fill she moved in and brushed against me, flicking my chin with her tail as she turned away. This provoked several feelings in me, some I am not proud of, but the one unanimously overpowering feeling I got was pure, cold, fear. Had I not been wearing cotton padding on my legs, my knees would have knocked so loudly it would have sounded like someone dropped a box of skeletons down a hundred flights of stairs.

"You ARE a hunter, are you not?" She circled me some more, and I felt her eyes examining every inch of me. "Your rippling muscles, the way you carry yourself... Yes, I'm afraid it gives you away quite easily, darling. I heard of your arrival a few days ago from my lovely assistant and have been looking for you - busy as I am - to no avail. Good heavens, dear, I simply cannot imagine how you've managed to hide from me for so long... It's not polite to keep a lady waiting."

She drew in closer. "I've let so many of you sift right through my hooves; this time - make no mistake - I will not let you escape so easily. All you hunters share the same dreadfully irresistible traits. That die hard determination in your body, that pure bull-headed intellect, and your dripping stallion pheromones that just..."

The white pony took a big whiff of the air. As close as she was to me it could feel her breath on my neck. She let out a big sigh, as if she enjoyed the sensation of it down to her core. However, near the end of her sigh something must have tickled her nose. Her angelic face made a very out of character expression of minor disgust before letting out a small sneeze.

I mean ok seriously lady, you just took in a noseful of a guy who legitimately can’t remember the last time he showered.

Turning to herself she mumbled something. "CANDY? Of all the ponies in the whole town to beat me to the punch! Blast you, Pinkie Pie." Or at least I think that’s what she said.

She turned back to me and straightened herself up. For some reason the aura of tension that froze me in place completely dissipated. She was still strikingly beautiful, no doubt about it, but she didn't seem like the voracious predator she resembled just a few moments ago.

"Oh, dear, I do apologize, darling. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lady Rarity, fashion designer extraordinaire, and friend to all potential patrons of this humble boutique."

You know, as I write this down, I can't shake the feeling that Rarity might have been hinting at something. I've never been one to tell what goes on in the minds of women, but something in the back of my mind tells me there was something going on that I really should have caught but just can’t quite get yet. I'll have to keep my eye out, I seriously don't want to jump to conclusions and recreate high school all over again.

Anyway, I somehow managed to introduce myself as PS, a good start for once, and I explained how I needed Mr. Cake's old armor refitted to my size. I carefully removed the armor from the box, making sure not to stab myself with the spikes which were everywhere.

Rarity's horn started glowing and the entire armor set started floating in the air. I just barely noticed she was a unicorn. I don’t know what to think about that yet, to be honest. We hunters see unicorns as the ponies that got life handed to them on a silver plate. Sure, even though I can't use magic I can understand that magic isn't easy to do and requires hard work and dedication, but come on, it’s magic! I was trying to not kill myself handling that armor and she can just whip it up into the air and dance it around as she pleases.

She looked at it, spun it around, even placed it up close to me to see how it would look. Eventually though she just shook her head and slumped the whole thing on top of her work desk.

"Ah yes, this armor; I remember this armor. Doesn't look like it got much use; of course seeing as it did belong to Mr. Cake that doesn't exactly come as a surprise now does it, darling? Honestly, whatever was I thinking? The spikes, the leather, ugh, these purposely torn jeans? No, no, no. This is all wrong. It's amateur work."

With just a swing of her horn the armor was once again in the air. I saw it come apart. I saw it and i still don't believe it. The armor dismantled itself in the most meticulous and organized fashion conceivable. Rivets were undone as if they were never sealed. Leather unbound as if it was never fastened. All the steel plates just simply fell out of their sockets and flattened themselves into a neat little pile. The gauntlet mechanisms just exploded outward like a mechanical blueprint. You could see every individual spring and gear just suspended in the air. Armor was supposed to be the solid wall we hid behind, our foundation we placed all trust in, and i just saw a unicorn tear it to pieces like a wet paper bag.

"I'll use these materials to make a new set; something that more suitably matches your look, darling. For the moment, could you be a dear and give me a hand by cranking that big wheel over there?"

There was a big wooden wheel against the wall. I almost didn't see it because of all the mannequins and rolls of fabric placed around it, obviously placed there to hide it in plain sight. After seeing such a display of power I was in no position to challenge her request. I pushed some of the objects to the side and grabbed on to the lever sticking out of the wheel and started to turn it. The initial turn was difficult, it seemed stuck in place out of inactivity, but using all my brute strength I managed to get it turning. Familiar creaks and groans started echoing through the boutique. This place must have been made out of the same stuff as the Gathering Hall because the inside was transforming just the same.

The outer wall was spinning around. No doubt on the outside it would look like an actual carousel spinning, but on the inside the spinning was causing the inner layer of the wall to sink into the ground. Dusty red brick was exposed behind it, with hanging tools dangling from its coarse surface. The center of the circular house opened up, and a giant furnace rose spiraling from underground. It was already burning with red hot coals being fed air with a bellows. The entire room immediately got several dozen degrees hotter, and as the furnace spun around, whenever the open end pointed in my direction i could feel the intense heat shoot out and threaten to burn my eyebrows off. Most of the common furniture was gone by now, either sunken into the ground or raised high above; the only things that remained were the furnace, a giant anvil, and several other devices i couldn't identify. Eventually the wheel refused to turn, signaling the end of the transformation.

Rarity herself had transformed. Her long flowing mane and tail were braided and tied into a bun; her beautiful eyes now hiding behind thick goggles. A thick leather apron covered her body. Floating all around her were knives, pliers, glowing hot iron rods, all sorts of vicious looking tools, and she was laughing maniacally during the whole process.

That is, until she realized i was still in the room.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hunter, but I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave. Nothing personal, I just can’t have people around the fire while I work - safety reasons and all that - and besides, the next few hours would be dreadfully boring for someone not into this sort of thing. I'll have your armor ready in a moment, in the meantime please feel free to take that bundle of clothing by the door. A proper stallion must look sharp for a funeral, those silly cotton mittens simply won’t do."
How she knew a funeral was in my list of things to do today is anyone's guess. It must have been more insider information from her "assistant." Still, I wasn't about to turn down a free suit. It was a dress suit, by the way, a very fancy dress suit; exactly the kind you'd swear to a funeral. It was tailored to my size as well. She was good.

Rarity was already hammering away at something so I just excused myself and let her be. Outside the Carousel Boutiqe there was quite the spectacle. Fire and smoke spewed from the very top of the building and the entire roof was spinning slowly. That's actually very convenient for me. If I see the building moving it probably means she's busy. I'll just have to keep an eye out for the smoke to clear before coming back for my new armor set.

"Oh and before I forget," Rarity yelled out to me through a window, "I'll have my assistant bring over your weapon as well. Can't complete an ensemble without decent accessories, I always say!"

You know, it never occurred to me to ask how much all this is going to cost me. I assume she'd have some sort of tab open for the town hunter. I'll pay her once I've actually hunted something, hopefully. Maybe she's just incredibly generous?

A quick change and much needed shower back at the Gathering Hall and I was ready to hit the town in my new penguin costume. The invitation said "Sweet Apple Acres," which I was told was the farm outside of town. Walking there in this fancy new getup was difficult. I’m used to heavy and cumbersome armor that severely limits my movement and range of motion, much like a tuxedo would, but this suit was just so nice I wouldn't dare get it dirty. You could imagine how upset I was once the paved road ended and there was nothing but a dusty trail left.

Eventually I arrived at the Sweet Apple Acres farm. There was a big, tough looking red pony pointing guests to the funeral service. It was a pretty large gathering of black tuxedos and dresses, at least half the town had to have been there. A single, slightly over-sized coffin was suspended above the six foot hole in the center of the crowd, and ponies would take turns walking up to it, leaving something on its surface; little mementos like flowers or empty bottles of milk.
This probably was the resting place of "Ms. Betsy." Even though she was just a cow in a herd to me, judging by the way the funeral took place, she probably meant much more to the town than just being another milk machine. She died of a monster attack? Who could I ask? Would it be impossibly rude? The frustration of not knowing what happened was killing me!

Ok bad choice of words.

Standing to the side of the coffin was the Priest, clearly identified by his cross shaped cutie mark and clergyman's collar, and what looked like a small, vibrantly colored pony family. There was a little yellow filly with a large bright red bow which stuck out from the black color of her dress. She was confused and slightly scared. Her eyes would dart around at the crowd of people, at the gifts and the coffin, and back at her family. This probably was her first funeral. I couldn't imagine how difficult it would be for your first funeral to be one of somebody you knew. My first funeral was of some old pony I didn't care about. I remember sitting on the grass hoping it would end quickly so I could go play. I must have been a terrible kid.

There was a young mare standing behind her, orange with the blondest mane in the crowd. She was wearing a black getup, but it wasn't a dress; just a typical work vest and some boots, and a cowboy hat. Wearing a hat during a funeral would probably be rude, or not, I'm not quite sure on the etiquette here. One thing was for certain, that pony was fuming mad. I could see it in her eyes. They were welling up with tears as she looked at the coffin, her body shaking with frustration. She would look away to calm down but if her gaze crossed the coffin she couldn't help but make a pained, angry expression.

There was a very old mare there too, green and wrinkled, with the grayest hair in the gathering. She looked the most depressed of them all. I'd imagine at that age, death would be a difficult subject to deal with, especially the deaths of the young, and especially the death of someone you knew.

I saw the red stallion at the entrance to the farm approach the family. He was probably the last member. He looked like a dependable type, and judging by the way he took charge of leading the arriving guests he's probably not one to let emotions cloud his judgment. He still looked a bit depressed, but so did absolutely everyone else here. Our eyes met, and he furrowed his brow at my unrecognized face. I nodded a greeting though, to try to get his suspicions down and I turned to the pony beside me to start a small conversation, just to break eye contact.

I didn't get enough words in though before the priest started the funeral service. It was sad, it was respectful, it covered all the great things in Ms. Betsy's life that I was completely unaware of. She was the most accomplished milk cow in the region, let alone the farm. Practically a mother to everyone, her comfort and support reached out to every member in Ponyville. Even in her final moments she died protecting the other cows. This was wrenching my gut into a little tiny ball. According to the priest, the monsters had attacked yesterday night, wounding several cows, but Betsy fought them off before collapsing from her own injuries. She died slowly as the family by the coffin, the Apple family, tried to save her.

That was depressing, in its own right, but what really got me was the fact that all this happened while I was away on my pathetic hunt. Had I just waited one more day, had I just hung around town to get to know the place better, I definitely would have been able to save her. I would have been able to fight the monsters and save the day.

The way the priest described the monsters wasn't helping, either. He called them "vile lizards" and "blue devils" as he cursed their cruel intentions. Chances were the very same pack of velociprey that I ran from earlier in the day decided to take the hunt to less cowardly prey. I might have just provoked them into attacking the farm by kicking the veritable hornet's nest. In essence, this could very well be my fault entirely. Thanks to my sheer incompetence, I've managed to personally murder a beloved member of this town.

This service was making me ill. I felt like throwing up. Putting a hoof up to my face made me realize I had been crying. What kind of monster was I? This death wasn’t even the monster's fault. It was MINE. As the final words were spoken, and the coffin slowly lowered down into the grave, the priest began to sing a hymn. The whole pony congregation chimed in, their depressed tones made the song sound low and eerie. This was too much for me. Everyone's heart was broken here, and I could not bear to stand among all this pain I had caused. I withdrew to a close by apple tree. Leaning up against it i took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure, but as I exhaled I couldn't help but accidentally release a few sobs. The invitation was still in my vest pocket. I could feel it burn a hole through my skin and threaten to rip out my heart. I saw what Opalescence meant by giving it to me as a reward for my failed hunt.

From that distance I saw the group disperse. In pairs or groups, sometimes just alone, they all headed back towards Ponyville. The service was over, and the only remaining ponies by the pile of freshly placed dirt were the oldest and the youngest of the apple family, holding each other as they stared at the tombstone. I saw the orange pony arguing with the red one off at the distance by the barn. They weren't close, but the argument was so heated I didn't have to move to be able to hear them.

"WHAT DO YA MEAN I CAN'T?! THAT MR. CAKE IS NOTHING BUT A CUD MUNCHING COWARD, HE WOULDN'T HELP US EVEN IF WE BEGGED." shouted the orange one. She was literally tearing off her black clothing as she stormed around in circles.

The red one was calm, and spoke too quietly for me to hear, but it looked like he was trying to explain a situation to her.

"THEY'LL DO FINE; APPLEBLOOM AND GRANNY CAN KEEP THEIR BANDAGES FRESH, THEY AINT HURT TOO BADLY. IM NOT WORRIED ABOUT THEM. IT’S THE LIZARDS! SOMEPONY'S GOTTA DO SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE VARMINTS!"

Again, it was the red stallion's turn to speak. Even with the tempers where they were, he was calm and rational, and surprisingly the orange pony didn't yell over him until after he was done talking.

"LISTEN, BIG MAC, I'M HUNTING THOSE MONSTERS IF YOU'RE COMING OR NOT!"

I had heard enough. Someone already died because of me. There was no way I was going to let that happen again. These monsters were not going to be hunted easily. It was MY job to hunt them; even though I failed the first time.

If anyone is supposed to go into the forest and be eaten alive by velociprey, it would be ME.

I wiped my eyes to make sure I didn't have any tears and started running to where they were. As I got near, I got within earshot of the stallion, Mr. "Big" Mac, I assumed.

"I know it aint right, Applejack, but we can't just let ourselves get caught up with revenge. Going out there would just make things worse. We don't know how to hunt that many of 'em, we don't even have the proper tools. The last thing I want is to have to dig another grave, especially one for you."

Applejack was about to start yelling again, but she saw me and swallowed her words. Big Mr. Redpony turned to me and we confronted each other again. In a crowd he wasn't so tough but one on one he made me feel like I was staring down a bull.

"Excuse me, Mister. I don't believe we have met. I certainly don’t recognize you from the townsfolk. This is a bit of a private situation within the family, I don't want to sound rude but... please leave."

He could have been a thousand foot high brick wall and not have been as imposing. Still, my mind was set and I was going to break through that wall no matter what.

"My name is PS. You don't recognize me because I am not from around here. My visit here is official business." I swallowed a big gulp of bravery in preparation for my next line. "I am a Monster Hunter."

Suddenly, Mr. Bull stallion wasn't so big. His eyes were opened wide in surprise and disbelief. From behind him, the orange pony, Ms. Applejack, walked up to me, also with a surprised look on her face.

I thought about trying to justify myself to her. I thought about talking reasonably to her and explaining the situation; how that particular hunt is too dangerous for even trained professionals. I thought about it, sure, but I didn't get a chance to say anything.

Before I could even react a hoof was headed straight to my face at an incredible speed. It decked me clear across the jaw. This wasn't just a "Why, I NEVER" slap from an offended high-society woman in some old fashioned black and white pony movie. This was a full-fledged haymaker punch from strongest pony in town. All it took was a single shot and I was down for the count.

Back at the training academy we would take pain and endurance "tests." To simulate the whip of a dragon's tail or body check of a giant monster we would stand blindfolded on an X painted on the floor as a wooden log was released. That log was tied with rope to a platform above us, causing it to swing like a pendulum straight into our unsuspecting bodies. We'd take the full brunt of the hit right at the base of the swing, and as expected, we would get injured severely. This built trust, taught us the inevitable dangers of our job, and just generally toughened us up to take more hits than a normal pony. Let’s just say Applejack's punch bought back intense feelings of nostalgia, among other things.

There actually was a big "How dare you" speech. Something about showing my cowardly face at the wrong time in the wrong place. I might have heard several obscene names tossed around, probably directed at me. A bunch of accusations probably took place as well. To be perfectly honest, getting my clock cleaned that hard really didn't give me a chance to concentrate on whatever that pony was talking about. Big Mac was holding her back as she pushed and screamed at me, the exertion and rush of emotions finally getting the best of her as she broke down into tears.

Once I got back up from the dirt and checked to see if my jaw was still in place, I tried to reason with the pair. One's a sobbing mess, but the other's bound to at least give me the time of day. All I needed to do was figure out a way to let the duty of hunting the monsters fall on my shoulder and somehow make it seem like it wasn't my fault to begin with. They couldn't possibly know, could they?

"I understand these monsters definitely need to be hunted. They are a danger to everyone now more than ever. I know you have personal reasons to hate me and the monsters, but please, listen. I am trained to fight them, and I regret not being here earlier to stop them. I need to make this right, so please, let me do the hunting. It's too dangerous for normal ponies."

"Normal ponies?" Applejack sure recovered quickly. Being weak and emotional was clearly not something she was used to and got over it surprisingly fast. "We ain't exactly what you'd call 'normal ponies.'"

Her chest puffed up as she stood up and grabbed Big Mac by the neck in some sort of hoof lock. She was trying to be tough to offset that little bout of tears she just went through.

"Mister, we're the defenders of this farm. Big Mac and I have fought back all sorts of wild animals. Wolves, bears, coyotes; you name it; we've probably kicked them in the head. Me and my brother don't need no outsider help. We're gonna hunt these things ourselves, ain't that right, Big Mac?"

Big Mac lifted his giant yoke-burdened neck up in the air and looked to the sky. He gave out a deep sigh as his head dropped down again. He uttered but a single word.

"Nope."

This didn't sit well with Applejack, apparently. Once again applejack started loudly voicing her arguments. They made sense, in a way. Monsters attacked and killed a member of the farm, and must be hunted before they can attack again. As long as they stay undisturbed they pose an imminent threat to everyone. Being smarter than normal beasts, they will not fall into traps or attack at predictable hours, meaning the only viable way to stop them is to bring the fight to their turf.

However, whenever it was Big Mac's turn, he spoke with such wisdom that I could have sworn he was quoting straight from our lectures back in the academy. The monsters attacked because they were desperate. They are not from here and do not find peace in pony civilization, obviously they have been displaced. They are only doing what comes naturally to them. Besides, even though it resulted in several injuries and a death, their attack on the farm was largely unsuccessful, making them even more desperate right now.

The two kept at it; Applejack's hot-blooded thirst for revenge vs. Big Mac's calm rationalization. The argument really was going nowhere. Applejack was hell-bent on making her brother hunt with her, and he was the immovable mountain that could not be swayed by even the loudest winds. Oh, also there was me, standing off to the side, you know, the ACTUAL hunter, the only guy who SHOULD hunt, completely unable to get even a word in.

I cleared my throat and demanded attention. My extreme hunter training did not cover how do deal with domestic situations, but with a bright idea in my head I decided to just run with it.

"Applejack, if you want to hunt the monsters so badly, then you can tag along in MY hunt."

"YOUR hunt?" she was so apprehensive, seriously. "Whoever said it was going to be YOUR hunt?"

Even though she was still very confrontational, I could tell this conversation was going in the right direction. The idea was to trick her into agreeing to hunt with me at a set time, but do it earlier and hopefully spare this town another funeral. I had no choice but to get as serious as I possibly could to fool her into following me.

"I have the armor, I have the weapons, I have the tools, I have the full authority of the Canterlot Hunter Guild, and as the Guild Hall leader of Ponyville, I have already requested, evaluated, and approved the Hunting contract, which was immediately assigned to me. It is MY hunt."

"I'll tell you what, hotshot." Applejack responded, "You sound like you might know what you're doing. I've had enough fights with my brother to know when I'm beat..." Looking over to Big Mac he just nodded his head and let out an "Eeyup." And right now, for Betsy's sake, I'm willing to side with the devil himself just to skin those lizards alive. So, Mr. Hunter - PS, was it? - what exactly do you suggest we do?"

No matter what I said from that point onward, she was clearly the person railroading the conversation. I managed to get a hunt organized for her, but she chose the time. The hunt would take place as early as possible tomorrow. She confessed she didn't have a weapon, but said she'd just take one of mine, somehow assuming I had any weapons at all. She also decided she would follow me to the Gathering Hall to prepare for the hunt and to spend the night, which totally blew a hole in my plan. I swear she read my mind. Why else would she have decided to just stick by me to make sure I don’t sneak out and hunt without her?

Before we left to the hall, Big Mac withdrew to the barn and procured a set of armor. This was the final nail in the coffin. There was no way I could keep her away now. Applejack showed me the armor, as she called it her "pride and joy."
It was full contact sports armor complete with pony football helmet, which made me cringe a bit at the absurdity. My immediate thought was how sports gear would not be adequate for hunting, but this particular armor was actually very well made. I could see the reinforcements of the sports plating and how some parts were extended to fully protect vital organs. The boots themselves were only made to resemble sports cleats; they were actually full-fledged combat boots with enough padding and armor to adequately protect a pony's legs. The sporty design probably helped with mobility better than a traditional armor shape, as well.

The armor material itself looked like it was made out of a crab shell, with its distinct red color and little organic bumps giving the defensive plates that unmistakable texture. One could only imagine the actual size of the crab in question. The armor was thick and looked durable enough; I'd imagine the biological nature of the plates would give it lighter and more flexible properties while still holding up to the durability of steel. White stripes ran through the armor, giving it a nice contrast to the red lobster color and accentuating the several unique parts of the armor, such as the overlapping chest plates which really did look like a football player's favorite suit. That armor was made by a professional, using parts from some sort of carapaceon monster, somehow made to look like normal sports gear. Was this Rarity's handywork? I really hoped it was.

Had I known Applejack owned armor this nice, I wouldn't have had any problems letting her join me. She looked competent enough, and if she really has fought off wild animals while protecting the farm, she'd be experienced enough to qualify for a temporary deputizing. At that point it looked like I would have to abandon Plan A and move on to Plan B, which involved not lying to everyone I knew and actually hunting with Applejack.

We took off towards the Gathering Hall. Applejack asked me several questions about the academy during the walk to break the ice. They were actually very specific questions, probably to find out if i really was a hunter or if I was just pretending. Fortunately, none of her personal questions actually involved my real name or cutie mark, so I gladly answered them all. In turn, I asked her about her own experience. She's taken down bullfangos and chased off a kutku once. That's already more actual hunts than me, not including that time she wrestled a bear and twisted the horns off a charging bull.

We stopped by Rarity's crazy boutique but nobody was home. A quick peek inside through a window revealed the boutique in its original condition. If I hadn't experienced the metamorphosis of my own home I would have thought the blacksmith boutique just a dream. Applejack reassured me that Rarity would not just stop working on something and my armor would be finished in time for the hunt tomorrow.

A few blocks more and we arrived back at my Hall. This place is a Gathering Hall meant to be a mass group lounge for every hunter in the area, but I was living in it, sleeping in it for three days now, and it really felt like it was my own house. As such it was also unsettling having someone just barge into my house and start treating the place like some sort of public lounge. Applejack really made herself at home.

"I can’t believe this Gathering Hall has always been here. Look at all them trophies up on the wall. You reckon they're the trophies of hunters way back in the day? They sure aren't the trophies of Mr. Cake, I’ll tell you what." Applejack spotted a big display piece missing from the wall. "Still could use a bit more decoratin' though."

Applejack jumped behind the counter of the bar. She looked around for a bit but immediately found all the bottles of juice and cider, all the large mugs, she even figured out how to work the tap. I spent most of my first night here getting that to work and she poured herself the foamiest aged cider possible without even trying.

"You look so out of place here, fella. A city boy like you hanging out in a place like this? Your tux isn’t helping, either."

I was still wearing my tuxedo, but without armor to cover my cutie mark I’d rather just keep it that way. It’s not like there’s even anyplace to change while someone is watching around here, I'd have to duck behind a table or something and that would make me look crazy. I am not crazy.

Applejack continued to defile the sanctity of my house. She probably didn't mean it. She probably didn't even realize this Gathering Hall was my own private room. I could tell she still didn't trust me though, it might look like she was distracted with her drink or admiring the surroundings, but she'd always have at least one eye on me. Instead of just standing around in a tuxedo while Applejack made a mess of things, I decided to grab one of the many maps lying around and start planning the hunt.

I made the mistake last time of not even looking at a map; I was not going to make that mistake again. I quickly found several familiar landmarks. The clearing where I got ambushed was just a short distance from the little cottage I started at. From there, I tried to find the nearest cliff. The only such cliff was facing toward the clearing, meaning in my frantic escape not only did I start running in the wrong direction, but I had to have ran for miles in a big circle in order to go around and up the hill that would eventually lead to the cliff. What was worse was that one half of the cliff was technically in the Everfree Forest, so unless I took the longer way around, there’s a good chance I was in the Everfree for a bit longer than i should have been.

I figured the hunt could start back at the yellow pony's house, follow my tracks up to where I got ambushed, eventually find the tracks that lead to the nest, and well, play it by ear. With a big red marker I outlined our plan of attack and called Applejack over for a quick briefing.

"Here's where we're gonna start. Heading into the forest, we might be able to catch..."

"Hey that there's Fluttershy's house!" Applejack interrupted. "We're not starting there. Out by the pastures is where the monsters attacked; I figure we just start tracking them from there. What makes you think starting out at Fluttershy's house is better than following them from the farm?"

"No, see, uh..." Crap! I had forgotten to keep the previous hunt a secret! How was I going to bluff my way out of that? "Velociprey do not hunt where they live. If we start at their hunting grounds, we might waste a whole day looking for monsters that won't even be there. It's better to start at a landmark and work our way into the forest instead. This house I've definitely never seen before is far enough out of the town to serve as a good starting location."

"Hmmm..." Applejack thought about it for a bit. "I guess you might be right. I mean, no point in arguing with someone who actually went to school for this. It's been a while since I've visited Fluttershy, too. I'll get two birds with one stone this way, I guess."

Applejack trotted over to my bed and slumped on it, managing to spill a bit of her drink all over the place. Did she even realize it was my bed? The thing I'm supposed to use to sleep on?

"You know, this place isn't half bad. It sure looks like someplace hunters would hang out, and you sound like you know what you are doing." Applejack was sounding a whole lot more friendlily than before. "We might have started off on the wrong hoof here."

She sat up on my bed and held out her hoof for me to shake it. "My name's Applejack, nice to meet you."
It would be rude to just leave her hanging, so I put down the map and started walking toward her.

One of the wall panels near the bed started to buckle. It started to thump and shake and rattle loudly. The sudden noise surprised me but this room doing strange things on its own wasn't exactly something new. After a few more thumps the wall opened up like a doorway and two ponies poured out in a ball.

It was Pinkie Pie and Rarity. Rarity quickly picked herself off the floor, dusted off and straightened her hair, but pinkie lay there a bit longer giggling to herself. How long were they hiding behind the wall?

"That's far enough, PS." exclaimed Rarity. "Quite frankly I am dreadfully disappointed in you. A real hunter would have at least taken a lady out to dinner first."

I was at a loss for words. I didn't know what was going on, or what I was being accused of at least.

"Just what in tarnation is going on?" Applejack seemed to be just as confused as I was. "What are y'all doing here?"
Pinkie Pie chimed in. "No, what are YOU doing here. We were here first. Or, well, I was here first but then Rarity started snooping around."

"Pinkie Pie, why I never! I simply passed by to drop off PS's new armor and sword. Seeing as nobody was home I let myself in just to make sure the items got delivered properly. I most definitely was NOT snooping around."

"Oh yeah, then explain why you were looking around his..."

Rarity held up a hoof to Pinkie's mouth to quickly silence her.

"Could y'all quit your bickering and explain to me why both of ya thought it was a good idea to spy on us? Why are you upset about us even being here anyway?" It seemed like if Applejack ever got confused, anger was an emotion that closely followed.

"Oh yeah, you're one to talk, Ms. Come Hither. You've been in PS's room ten minutes and you're already asking him to come to bed."

"Wait... who did wha... WHAT!"

One by one all the puzzle pieces fell into place: Me, a city boy in a fancy suit, Applejack, the naive country girl, a glass of cider, my room. Oh man that did not look good at all.

All eyes turned to me. Rarity looked very disappointed in me, Applejack was furious, and Pinkie Pie was making this strange pouty face. All three of them were approaching me menacingly, demanding an explanation.
Using my entire mental prowess, my razor sharp wit, and lighting fast reflexes, I put all my chips into one single gesture that would hopefully save me from the incoming storm. It was a single body motion that explained in detail how Applejack forced her way in here, how it was her idea to barge into my room, how nothing bad was planned, how nobody was trying to take advantage of anyone, how all of this would be easily straightened out with a cool headed discussion.

Unfortunately, that body gesture looked REALLY similar to a shrug. A confused, guilty-looking shrug.

I am not too sure what happened after that, it all happened so fast. All I can figure out is that it’s getting really dark, my head hurts, and the door to the Gathering Hall is locked. Here I am currently sitting outside in the lawn. I can hear the three girls inside talking, and I am pretty sure Pinkie Pie just yelled out, "Sleepover!"
A moment ago they were kind enough to toss me a pillow. Unfortunately the pillow was just my new armor in a white blanket, and it was more of a deliberate throw rather than a toss. They also threw me my sword. It’s lodged in a tree at the moment; I am in no hurry to claim it right now.

Looks like I’m spending the night out here then. Hopefully things will be better tomorrow.
--

PS rested against a tree in the backyard of the Sugarcube Corner. He had already changed into his new armor, using the cover of the night to make sure nobody got a good look at his cutie mark. Rarity really outdid herself making that armor. The whole thing resembled a very strange Wild West cowboy outfit. The vest and hat was a muddy orange with spots, the color of the leather obviously coming from the skin of a famous western Wroggi, a monster similar to Equestria’s native lizards. A few years ago when they cleaned out Appaloosa these skins were so common they usually traded at 5 bits each, it wasn’t a surprise Rarity would have enough left over to make a free suit.

The hat was a bit larger than normal, and its pointy tips made it look distinctly different from a normal cowboy hat. The getup had little leathery frills on the gauntlets and boots, brown chaps worked like the typical hunter belt holding up all the necessary pouches and gear, and a pair of spurs stuck out from the back of the orange boots. What would a pony need with spurs? The whole thing really looked like a mess, but a very thick poncho tied it up very well, making PS look like a mysterious lone adventurer type.

At first, PS was skeptical about the armor. He had seen the movies about western sheriffs wearing the exact same thing, shooting up buffalo and riding off into the sunset. The whole idea was ridiculous to him. However, as soon as PS put on the armor he realized that looks were very deceiving. The jacket was heavily reinforced with thick, heavy plates of metal. The boots had guards all the way up to the knees, ending in solid steel kneecaps. The edges of the vest had a ring of steel supporting it, and the stupid looking hat was actually a complete steel helmet that just looked like a leather hat. The whole setup not only provided maximum protection, it actually made the outfit look sharper than possible with just cloth and starch.

It was also very comfortable. There were leg gussets and several points of articulation that gave PS an almost complete range of motion. He started to trot around for a bit and noticed not a single problem with any of the joints or hinges. Everything bent and folded with him, being as solid as possible but so smooth it felt like he was wearing cloth. PS felt like a completely new pony in that armor. Something this good had never happened to him his whole life. He might have been thrown out of his own home a few minutes ago, but at that particular point in time he was the happiest pony in the world.
As he bounced around to test out the weight of his new armor, PS was approached by a small figure. The night sky kept PS from noticing until the little round shadow called out to him.

"Uh... are you ok? Why are you jumping around? You almost knocked something over, Twi"
The voice startled PS. He looked around and found the source, which surprised him even more. It was a very young dragon. It was not just an average baby wyvern, standing in front of him was a true to life real baby dragon. The kind not even hunters dare to fight, albeit he was still very early in the development stages. Although PS had never seen a live dragon up close, even just a baby one, he recognized the dragon’s voice and knew his name. It was "Spike."

"Hello, Spike. I mean you no harm. Let's be friends." PS gave him a respectable greeting. His weapon was still lodged in a tree, hunting this baby dragon would not be possible, and besides, he's still a baby, there’s absolutely no sport in that.

"Yeah, hi, whatever." Spike looked like he had something on his mind. "Listen, Twilight. I was looking up the ingredients you used on that potion, you know, to see if there were any other potions that used baby dragon hearts. Turns out other than that magical stuff you added at the end, most of the ingredients you used make up a well-known Hunter potion that lets you see through the eyes of a large monster!"

Spike held out a large tome of magical potions. PS had never seen such a book, but at the same time he recalled having read it several times. This was getting confusing. To make matters worse, PS suddenly realized he was inside a building. Wasn't he outside just a few moments ago? There were books strewn about all over the floor, and shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with books. When did he stumble into the library?

"It says here the potion called 'Psychoserum' can be easily made by any hunter. The hunter that is more familiar with the surroundings takes a drink and for a few seconds gains the ability to see what a monster sees. It’s up to the hunter to then deduce where the monster currently is and mark it on a map once the potion wears off, either to hunt it or to avoid the monster."

PS had heard of Psychoserums before, but it seemed this generation of hunting instructors preferred teaching a hunter how to track and chase a monster rather than just drinking some magical drink to find it. He shared the sentiment. Psychoserums are cheating, plain and simple, and PS would rather just not go hunting than use a serum.

"So when you took some of that super psychoserum, did you see anything? I'd imagine..."
Twilight shook her head. Of course she saw something, but there's no way she's telling anyone about it, or how she had been hallucinating the past few minutes. It seems like the side effects of the potion were a little more serious than she had predicted. Looking down at the journal she noticed it was closed. Was she even reading it at all?
Looking around the end of the entry, Twilight noticed that there was no actual description of PS' new armor. He merely mentioned how he got it, never actually wrote how it looked like. However, Twilight still had the vivid experience of actually seeing the completed armor and even the sensation of how it felt worn.

This was seriously bad. If she can't trust her own observations then why should she continue reading? It could all be a figment of her imagination!

No. Twilight skimmed through the page. Even though the last few minutes weren't real, the rest was. There it was, written down word for word, exactly as she remembered reading. She just really needed to get a grip on when the reading stops and real life starts up again, is all. Nothing too bad, definitely not enough to make her stop now.
Spike left Twilight to continue reading. He had other things to do, and besides, the whole house smelled terrible. He could swear Twilight could read a book in the middle of a fire and not notice the heat.

Picking up where she left off, Twilight continued:

Welcome Home, Hunter

by KutKu

Chapter 1: It Begins

Chapter 2: Hunter's Log

Chapter 3: First Hunt

Chapter 4: First Hunt Part 2