A great umbrella covers the earth. A tower is built on the center, a tower of machinery propping it up. As one would expect, the villages below get no sun. And with water leaking everywhere, it falls down as "rain". But none question for it is a norm. It means nothing. It is simply "law".

Flip.

The page of a book turned over as a hoof cast it from one side to another. Lazy, red eyes scanned over it as the light of a lantern glowed and flickered from a post nearby; her brown mane casting a light shadow against the other page. The grey pony didn't care though. All that mattered was her book.

Flip.

Flip.

Page after page turned as she finished page after page. The story written over pictures depicting what was written. Different colors swirled in every page, forming shapes of bright colored things that were only fairytales and still, lazy eyes took them in like sponges.

"That book again?"

The reader paid no heed to the colt who sat beside her, inquiring about her refusal to release the old tattered book which, to his count 'til now, has been the seventh year… whatever a year was. He glanced over with his brown, baggy eyes to see which page the reader was now on again. The page showed a drawing of a pony cowering before a ball of what seemed to be light.

"The glow of the majestic ball shone down upon the land, casting its heat upon th-"

"I can read…" interrupted the reader as she kept her eyes at the book. Still lazily scanning each word printed. "You don't have to dictate it to me."

The colt puffed his cheeks and let a sigh run through his nose.

"You never do anything but read that stupid book."

As if pained hearing a horrible insult, she turned to the colt with eyes displaying one message; one she made more obvious with words: "Get out."

The colt needn't be told twice. Getting off his rump, he walked out the door which sat ajar and into the drizzle of the rain outside.

Rain poured on his coat. Nothing new when outside. It's what everyone grows up to in the umbrella; the dull grey world that knew nothing about color or happiness. Contentment maybe. But happiness? Those were just things everypony reads and hears about from stories. Fairytales too like this big bright ball they call a sun and the endless ceiling painted blue called sky. Things called flowers that grew in many colors. And what kind of a stupid story says that sky changes in color depending on how sun is positioned and when sun is hidden in the ground, assuming a glowing ball could hide itself into the ground, glowing things like stars and moon suddenly appear on sky. Just stupid. Only a foal would believe such a thing. Make believe fairytales. The colt sighed at the summary of his thoughts and trotted on into the grey curtain of rain.

The tower in the distance formed a silhouette past the curtain of water. None ever questioned its existence; why it was there, what it did there. Why would anypony? What's beyond the grey curtain? It's all an endless grey.

Endless grey.

The colt thought to himself and walked onwards, unsure of this feeling he's experiencing. He's always had it since he was little but to ask questions of things that was not common knowledge was taboo. Or at least his thoughts on it are. Why would there be none who did? Why would there be none who knew?

Because there was nothing out there in the grey.

Before he knew it, the colt stood before the metal fence that kept everypony away from the tower of machinery. Gears stuck out of its walls lined with trusses, stairs, and scaffolding. Rust covered some of the metal sticking out into the rain. The colt's hazel eyes looked at them impassively, like he's seen them a million times before. His wet, blue mane clung to his face, giving him something that might pass for a miserable look. Looking up, the tower loomed over his form as if it was ready to suddenly open a large, cavernous mouth and eat him whole. The thought made the colt step back and decide to go back to what he was supposed to be doing; getting to work.


Clank.

Clank.

Clank.

The machinery worked like clockwork, pressing metals to sheets, forming them into shapes, welding them together then finally, producing more metallic things that nopony may never know what for. These things were then put into boxes and taken someplace nopony knew. But they religiously do it every shift. Shift-in, shift-out, continuously pouring gears and parts out into boxes and crates then shipping them out. The cars travelled by themselves along rails leading out into the grey. Nopony would ever follow it though. Stories of one pony who did and never returned used to linger among the workers but it never really was in their nature to go after something so trivial as to find out where it led. Working in the factory was far more important than knowing where the metal box car goes to or if there were other ponies there waiting for them to arrive. It was law to keep working, to stay busy, and not mind anything else.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank.

The machine still kept working as the colt fed it the materials it needed to be productive. Water dripped down to his chin as he labored away, carrying metal plates between the apparatus on his snout and dumping them over at the machine's tray, watching it squish and move then dump the next batch he carried in. The seemingly endless cycle he went through all throughout his shift. Other colts did the same. When they reach a certain age, all colts are required to work in the factories just as their fathers did and their fathers before them, and their fathers before them. As common as it was, none questioned it. It meant nothing. It was simply law.

"Tales," called out one of the workers, a stallion, tending to his bigger machine nearby. "Tales, d'ya get your sister anything for her birthday?"

The colt felt himself grow cold. One thing he didn't like was his name. He hated his name. He even envied his sister of hers. Who in the right mind would call their son Tales anyway! It's like, what, he didn't exist? His sentiments seem to have come out of his face as the stallion smiled awkwardly and scratched his mane.

"Sorry, Colt. Old habits die hard."

The colt sighed, shaking his head and getting back to placing slabs into the machines.

"It's fine. Just…"

The loud whistle which meant the end of the shift finally blew. The colt trotted to the exit where the punch out cards were and slotted his on his way out.

"On our way to earn our next pay, are we?" leered the security stallion who wore glasses thick as unpressed steel plates. His long neck and small head actually made him look reminiscent of a snail without the shell.

The colt looked around to reply "That's not until next week, Mr. Hardy," and continued to trot out of the factory and perhaps to home. He was still unsure of where he wanted to go so the option of going home weighed a bit more in his mind.


Flip.

She was still reading her book. The same red eyes scanned over the images and words. The same grey-furred hoof flipped them over lazily. The same swirling images greeted her eyes and they still soaked the sight in like sponges.

"I'm home," announced a colt from the door.

The filly didn't look up when she replied "Welcome home."

It has always been the norm for the past seven years. Ever since she read that book, she never put it down; always reading by lamplight, scanning it lazily. It was as if she was obsessed with the book itself. Even as they ate, the book would always be between her and the colt. And she would never come out of the house. She would always stay there, reading. When asked to, she would refuse. When forced, grow mad. She seemed to hate the outside; as if receiving the book had turned her into a shut in. Now the colt didn't know what to do. He was at a loss for how he can get her outside to be with other ponies. She has never made any friends. Not that he had many either but at least he had two. But the filly was hopeless. She wouldn't even talk much. This worried the colt.

"Glint." His call came unanswered. Getting the hint, he laid himself beside her and read along the story she was reading.

And the brightness of sun shone through the mountains, making the color of orange. And soon the color of blue. And then the color of black, with the stars and the moo-

Flip.

The colt didn't even get to finish the paragraph when Glint had already flipped the page, her red eyes still reading, not realizing that her brother lay beside her, pouring into the book as well.

Sometimes, Sun lies on the ocean, casting his orange glow upon the water and painting it orange as well. And soon, Moon would rise from her ocean bed and spend time with stars above.

Flip.

He had just barely finished reading when Glint changed the page again. She read fast but atleast the colt could keep up. He was glad. Suddenly, Glint stirred and finally noticed the colt's form beside her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, almost suspiciously.

"Reading with you," he replied. "You're reading pretty fast now."

Glint smiled. The colt hasn't seen that smile in a while and is happy he could see it again on this day. Then he heard a set of words he'd never heard her say in a very long time: "Thank you."

"Oh! Now she's polite." The colt chuckled as he watched Glint blush a bit then pour back into her book. He couldn't help but smile more as he began to fall asleep, a hoof going across her back.


The pelting of water hitting the metal remained audible in the room as the colt slowly opened his eyes. Glint laid beside him, fast asleep; the book still open just before her snout and a blanket covering them both.

He looked around the room, spotting the clock on the far opposite wall. The time read 10:24. Ahead of schedule he thought as he rolled out from under the blanket and headed for the kitchen. Their dinner plates were already clean. Guessing it was Glint, he proceeded to making a breakfast for both.

The sweet aroma of mashed sweet potatoes drifted in to Glint's nose. Crinkling her nose a bit to sniff more of the aroma, she slowly opened her eyes. The book lay closed before her as she began to sit up, rubbing her eyes and fixing her mane to its forward-swept style. Picking the book up with her teeth, she slowly walked to the kitchen, hoping to find the source of the sweet scent.

"Breakfast is almost done," announced the colt from the kitchen, knowing his sister was now in the dining nook. The purple, mashed goo was carefully placed on the pieces of toast freshly removed from the pan.

The filly's eyes watched, still lazily, the plate lightly placed before her. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she proceeded to satiate herself with the delectable, all things present considered, meal. The book was still propped up, sitting between her and the colt.

"Hey." The colt tried catching the filly's attention. But despite her lack of response, he decided to continue anyway. "Your birthday's in three days. Got anything in mind?"

A light shuffle but still no response.

"Hey Glint, why don't we go to-"

"I'm not leaving this house."

Her voice was firm and resolute. You can feel it even though she's hidden behind the cover and pages that make up her book. It was always the same. Everytime she was asked to go out, only the cold wall of a reply would meet anypony's attempts. Why, none really know. When asked, she wouldn't even bother explaining, as if it was as obvious as water in rain. The colt sighed, once again failing to get his sister out for the seventh time. But at least he did get her something this year. That should at least lighten the mood. Or rather, the colt hoped so.

"Here," he said, pushing a long, wrapped item towards his grey equine counterpart. "It's for you."

Not even a nudge.

"I know it isn't your birthday yet but…" His voice trailed off when Glint suddenly stood up and walked away from the table, leaving the item on the table, and walked 'round the corner. A rustle gave the colt the hint that she had just laid on her bed again and leaving him to tend to the dishes… filled with disappointment.


The day rolled on by with nothing to remember. Work was the same as any day, clanking of machines, silence among the workers, bells ringing when shift's done. The clunk of the puncher, punching dates on tan time cards, keeping track of our work time as we earn our wages, the smell of hot, sweaty air in the factory, escaping into the cool air of the outside, all of those are nothing but the norm. None dare ask why though for it is commonplace. It means nothing. It's simply law.

"Hey, did you hear?" whispered one of the workers in the factory. "Steelmane got sacked."

"Yeah," replied the other. "I heard it was because she had a tattoo on her flank."

"And guess what reason she gave." Both were holding back chuckles. "It just suddenly appeared!"

Laughing at another's misfortune… The colt thought with irritation. I doubt they'd be laughing if it happens to them.

"It's classic I tell you. Who the heck gets a tattoo on their flank out of thin air!"

The colt suddenly stopped in his tracks, realizing what he'd just done. Two ponies lay unconscious behind him. He recognized both of them as the laughing pair who had just, not that long ago, been making fun of a certain unfortunate pony. Confused as to what had just happened without memory, the colt ran. His heart beat faster than jackrabbits, his breathing catching in his throat once in a while. What had he done? Should anypony find out…

Suddenly, THUD! He ran into a tough wall of flesh, bone, and brown fur. He felt himself bounce off it and back on the ground, hitting his head hard on the concrete ground. His vision spun as he tried to recover from the light concussion he had just incurred from the unexpected object. As his vision straightened, he realized a shadow looming over his form. Slowly, he started to look up until the concerned face of a mare met his, large grey eyes and all.

"You alright?" she asked with a hint of worry. "You were rushin' so fast, you bounced off me."

"I-I'm…" was all the colt could muster before the slightly larger mare picked him up onto her back with one fluid movement.

"Upsie-daisy. Let's get you home and looked at, shall we?"

The strong mare's house wasn't much different from his. Only that it had one bed and the arrangement was slightly more organized. Like as if somepony had snuck into his house and arranged his stuff. Slowly, the mare slid him off her back and into a slightly damp cushion. After grabbing a bag from behind a door, she turned back to the colt, shining a little penlight into his eyes.

"How are you feeling now?" Her worried tone was somehow less now but still not all that gone.

The colt thought of a reply. He tried to think of good words to say and finally said the best words he could conjure at the moment: "Fine."

"'nuff said, I guess."

She straightened back up once again, towering a head above the worker colt, a relieved smile hanging on her face. Turning around, she stashed her penlight and other materials, ones she had to pull out to procure her penlight in the first place, back into her purple doctor's bag.

"Well, that was lucky." She spun around, smile still ever present. "Minor concussion and a bad case of rushphillia."

"What…?" He understood what a concussion was but the second word was possibly too technical for him to understand. Makes sense as she's a doctor, right? Doctors are eggheads and they say some stuff in ways we don't understand. At least the colt thought so.

"Rushphillia, your love of rushin'." She chuckled.

Whatever the joke was, the colt wasn't in on it. Brushing the thought aside, he slowly stood up, hoping to leave but with the sudden return of the dizzy feeling threatening to topple him forwards, he immediately sat back down. Not that the mare doctor didn't notice as she rushed to his side to catch him and slowly lower him back down on the cushion.

"Don't rush it. You need to recover a bit more." Her hoof lightly patted his back. "Some tea oughta make you feel a bit better."

Maybe he didn't notice it before but now that his head was a bit more clear and his vision a bit less hazy, he finally noticed that it wasn't the mare's coat that was brown but a hooded robe. Her fur was actually dark grey as suggested by her face and the parts of her legs left uncovered by her robe. Although it's quite common for some ponies to wear robes, it's uncommon for them to wear something as bourgeoisie as leather or mink; both of which present on the kind mare's robes.

"I…" the colt began but trailed off, thinking his inquiry might actually end up sounding offensive rather than curious. But with even the simplest of words just escaping his mouth, the kind mare turned to him, wondering what the rest of the statement was. The youngster pondered on his question in haste and blurted out what came to mind anyway. "I wanted to ask where you got that."

The kind mare raised an eyebrow and smiled. A little chuckle escaped from her lips as she turned back around busying herself with a pot of hot water and preparing their tea.

"A good pony gave me this." Her reply sounded cheery but the colt felt something mixed into it. He wasn't sure what it was but there was something there; something hidden behind the cheeriness of her voice. "He gave it to me quite some time ago."

"It's…" He chose his words carefully. "…Nice."

"Thank you."

Silence followed her words.

The tea was still steaming. It had been the right temperature, just below boiling. The flavor of the leaves had bloomed into the water, soothing the colt's body with every sip. Aroma wafted all over the room like perfume. Before he knew it though, the tea cup was empty by the time he set it down. This tea was just something you can't put down when you start drinking. Even the mare had been entranced to drinking it in silence.

"This tea, it's-"

"Oh my!" The mare jumped as she realized. "I haven't introduced myself, have I? What WAS I thinkin'?"

The mare instantly stood up from her seat opposite the colt's and moved over to shake his hoof.

"Name's Steelmane."

"You're Steelmane?" His eyes widened.

"Oh. So you have heard of me." She awkwardly scratched her mane with her unshaken hoof. "Guess word does go around fast."

The colt immediately realized what had just happened and stumbled to find the words to get himself out of the trouble he was in; or rather the trouble he thought he was in. Sighing in his mind, he finally gave up the façade and decided to come out clean with it.

"I'm Tales." He stretched out his hoof then turned his head to somewhat hide the embarrassed look on his face. "Actually it's Ponytale but my nickname's always been Tales for those in the know."

Steelmane's smile seemed to grow wider as she shook Tales' hoof. The colt risked a glance and saw that the mare wasn't cracking up with laughter as he had predicted. Instead, what greeted him was warmth and appreciation.

"Wow," she softly said out of genuine surprise. "I never thought I'd meet anyone who's heard of me to be so…" A hoof on chin. "Nice."

"I'd rather be nice than to laugh behind somepony's back," was his reply.

Both shared a warm smile… and warmer company.


"Took you a while to get back from work." Glint was still hidden behind her book but paid enough attention to hear Tales' light hoofsteps.

"Had a run-in with a friend," he replied.

"A run-in…"

"Yup. More like… Ran into and she had me checked up."

"She…"

"Yes, she."

Glint's usually lazy eyes peeked over the book.

"No, we are not in a relationship."

Her eyebrow rose a bit.

"Look, I just met her!"

"I thought she was your friend?"

"Yes, she is!"

"But if you just met her, that'd make her an acquaintance, not a friend."

"So says the girl who has none."

"I do to!" Glint's face almost instantaneously turned red; eyes suddenly becoming wide. Then fast as her reaction was, she hid her face again behind her book. "I-I just haven't seen them in a while!"

"Uh huh."

Glint stayed silent, back to her reading, hiding her face behind her book once again. Tales secretly gave himself a smug smile for getting another one on his sister… And managing to get a conversation from her no matter how short it was.

The water boiled in a casserole pot. Potatoes inside slowly softened until they were almost like paste if it weren't for their skin holding them together. A strainer lifted them out of the scorching liquid and tumbled them into a bowl. Slowly, a fork mashed them into squishy, orange paste; their aroma, rising into the air and capturing Glint's attention once more. Nothing made her happier than the scent of sweet potatoes wafting in the air. Following the overwhelming scent, she sat on the table, book spread before her and expecting eyes locked on the bowls filled with the mashed goop.

Tales turned around to beckon his sister to eat only to find in mid sentence that she was already seated, book once again by her hooves. Not that he really minded but it was quite off-putting to see that your only companion at home was more attached to something rather than you. Tales sighed and smiled anyway. At least she was there safe and sound, he thought. The finishing touch on the potatoes was some milk poured into it and mixed 'til it had almost the consistency of soup; pretty heavy soup. Once done, he carried the tray containing the bowls and expertly set them on the table. Glint's eyes seemed to glitter as she looked at her favorite meal. Soon as the bowl was placed on her side of the table, her ravenous side immediately losing its shackles from her reasoning and devour the irresistible meal before her.

"Slow down." But Tales' words fell on deaf ears. Glint was already half way through her bowl of mash. And from years of experience, Tales knows better than to intervene. To get between her and her meal meant risking getting a few broken ribs or a leg; a very dangerous gamble.

Lapping the rest of her meal off the bowl, Glint almost immediately returned to her book. By which time Tales had barely just finished a third of his. Another short sigh, Tales looked around while finishing the rest of his meal. At the corner of the room, he caught sight of a long, wrapped package he recognized was his gift to his sister, unopened and left just beside the table.

Maybe she wants to open it on her birthday?


The clanking of machines kept up its rhythm. Same shit, different day. Tales' usual routine everyday along with the other five thousand workers in the factory. None questioned it though for it is the norm. It means nothing. It is simply law.

The factory manager had already approached Tales from behind, startling him. But nothing made him feel worse than the ten words that escaped the manager's mouth: "Tales, the overseer wants to see you in his office."

The office was wide, spacious, very executive. From what Tales could tell, it was about three ponies wide and about seven ponies long, maybe about two and a half ponies high. Yes, very spacious. Ahead of him was the overseer's table, ornamented with little trinkets he had never seen before. A name plaque sat in the center of all the little bits.

Junktown Jerky

Sec. 13 factory overseer

"Ah, Mr. Tales, am I correct?" inquired a classy but obviously bossy stallion from behind the executive chair facing the full glass window at the far end of the room.

"Yes sir," came Tales' nervous reply. "What did you need me for… Sir?"

"Did you notice that we actually have two workers missing on our factory floor?" The chair slowly spun around, facing Tales and revealing a white stallion seated comfortably on its cushion. A scar stroked from his forehead, down to his seemingly misaligned snout and ending somewhere on his neck just below the chin. His red eyes seemed to pop out against his black but peppered mane.

But Tales had other things in mind than to observe the overseer's features. Surely, he meant the two ponies he had encountered yesterday. But they were only out cold… Weren't they…?

"You were among the last ponies to see them and we're investigating their disappearance." He touched one of the items on the table with a hoof and played with it, tipping it left to right. "Do you have any information whatsoever?"

Tales was slightly hesitant but feigned thinking to cover it up. He was weighing his options as fast as he could and decided one was safer than the other. As if disappointed, he gave his reply to the overseer: "No."

With a nod, the overseer dismissed him to get back to work; an invitation Tales was happy to accept. Once back on the factory floor, the Manager shot him an almost suspicious look as he returned to his daily duty of operating the machines.


"So you lied to the overseer?"

"I had to. I just left them there and they seemed to be fine." A thought. "Well, less than fine but alive at least!"

He took another sip of his hot tea, soothing his nerves ever so slightly but it was a very welcome effect. The tea smelled different but he has never smelled nor seen nor heard where this tea had come from. It was new and foreign and foreign is near impossible to come by in this place.

"Where did you get this?" Tales asked as he finally realized this strange tea can never be found in this place.

"Just some place," she answered with a smile. "My secret place."

"But these… Things." He looked into the pot again. Aside from leaves, there were other things floating inside it as well. Like other leaves, only with different colors. "What are they?"

"You won't believe me if I told you." A smile creased on her face.

"Try me."

"Flowers."

Tales was completely unsure whether to laugh or be stupefied but how can things of fiction exist? He looked back into the pot and watched the colored leaves swirl around the liquid. Unable to really register what Steelmane had just told him, Tales asked again but received the same answer.

"Flowers." She chuckled at Tales' disbelief and tossed a hoof in the air. "I told you, you won't believe me."

"But how can foalish ponytale stories come true? It's like saying ponies can fly unassisted by magic or machines!"

Steelmane sighed and smiled then poured a bit more tea into her cup and letting go words that seemed to cause a spark in Tales: "Why do we make steel machinations?"

"To earn a living. Obviou-"

"No, no. Why'd you do it? Why'd you have to make steel parts and ship them off somewhere undisclosed? Why'd you need to make those instead of machines that help us make things better here?"

Tales cocked his head to one side. "You… Sort of lost me."

"Why'd you have to make machine parts you don't even know what for? Why do these factories exist to just produce those parts?"

"Because we are told to…?"

"Precisely. We're told. Why'd we follow?"

"Because it's law."

"Made by whom?"

Tales shrugged. "The overseer?"

"The overseer only follows what he's told too." A quick sip of tea. "He's only following the same law all of you should."

"I don't know then."

"Have you ever ventured past the grey?"

Tales shook his head. "It's forbidden. Besides, there's nothing out there."

"You'd be right. Only it's not."

His head suddenly perked up. His eyes filled with the same look as when Steelmane had told him he was drinking tea made from flowers. "What do you mean?"

A slight but downward smile creased her lips. "I'll show you, if you want."

Tales settled down, thinking it'd be wiser to be calm than to challenge the mare before him with ideals. Besides, he had other things to worry about. "Maybe some other time. But about the two missing ponies…"

"Well, that'd be a little problem there, huh?" For a moment, she pondered; almost lost in thought. Her silence felt almost eternal when she finally spoke again, startling Tales who was about to try prodding her flank with a spoon. "Did you try looking at where you left them?"


Clopsh.

Clopsh.

Clopsh.

Wet clopping remained audible on the street as two figures walked, one taller than the other. The concrete below their hooves reflected their visages and the remaining light around them; that eternal grey light which lit the town within the rain. The town around them seemed to sleep as they passed. No ponies out, all windows shut, only the ever present ambient light around them.

"Were they supposed to be here?" asked the taller, robed mare.

"Yes," replied the shorter colt. "I left them here and since then, have been missing."

The mare moved around the supposed crime scene, looking intently on the concrete where the colt describes he had left them. Tracing with a hoof, she followed some sort of invisible track which finally ended on a service hatch. "They probably went inside…"

"Why would they? There's nothing there but water. They'd drown."

"Then somepony must have dragged them in."

"Why?" Tales felt his body grow cold at the thought of some murderous pony dragging two others into a drain and chucking them in to drown.

"I don't know." Steelmane looked down at the concrete once again. "But that's where the track ended."

The mare's colt companion walked to her side and looked at the hatch. A worn handle laid embedded into it, tempting him to open the hatch and finally find out his fate. His hoof quivered as he fought the urge but before he could resist any more, the hatch turned with the help of a grey hoof.

Steelmane lifted the lid with relative ease and looked down into the dark abyss below. The sound of flowing water echoed from below, deeper within the caverns. But no water flowed right below them as Tales had said. The colt looked down into the tunnel, darkening into its depths. With gulp of both nervousness and confusion, Tales looked up to Steelmane, confirming what she wants them to do.

"You seriously want us to drown in there?" Fear always made Tales' eyes grow.

"Are we going to just let the truth lay buried until the executioners fill you up with lead?"

The prospect of execution seemed to have phased the younger's fear as he finally, though still hesitantly, agreed to head down into the dark, dank, subterranean tunnel.

The travel down wasn't hard as it would've seemed. The ladder was made at an angle and thus was easier to descend into. But that was the least of their problems. The darkness only felt thicker the deeper they went. Soon, the light from the open hole they entered couldn't be seen anymore.

CRACK!

The loud sound echoed all the way down the tunnel, making Tales almost slip off the rung he was on. As if by some miracle of magic, light illuminated between the two ponies. A glow stick stayed firmly between Steelmane's teeth as they continued their descent. After a long while, they finally step on solid, albeit mushy, ground. Steelmane's eyes immediately focused on the trail slithered through the muck and traced it all the way into a sort of access tunnel to their left. Looking at Tales who gave a firm nod, they both cautiously walked on, following the trail.

Schluck.

Schluck.

Schluck.

The new sound caused by their hooves walking through some sort of soft ground distracted Tales. The sound coming into his ears sounded foreign, unusual. But he liked the feeling under his hooves. It was wet, cool, and it stayed. It wasn't like water that flowed and went away soon as you lifted your hoof. It was… clingy. Perhaps that was the right word for it.

"Wait right here."

Tales stopped and looked up to Steelmane, her face painted in… suspicion? Extreme caution? Tales couldn't exactly tell but it has definitely something to do with what laid ahead of them. Deciding it was the smart thing to do, Tales backed up to the tunnel wall as the older mare slowly walked forward.

Darkness started to shroud him again as Steelmane started to walk farther and farther away until the light had completely faded into a bend at the far end of the tunnel. Suddenly, fear started to overtake the young pony's mind. The pitter patter of water in the distance didn't help with him facing his fear either. And murmurs. Murmuring voices echoing through the tunnel from far within its depths. His hooves started to shake in fear as he started to shrink into himself.

Suddenly, light! The bend was brightening up again and the familiar sight of his galloping mare companion came to view. He would have been really happy to see her had it not been the look on her face as she galloped closer. Maybe he had seen it somewhere before because he knew that look like anything: panic.

"RUN!"

Tales didn't need any reason to. Her face was enough to convince him to do what he was told. Running fast with Steelmane behind, he risked one peek back just to know what was going on. The murmurs weren't really murmurs after all. A wall of water chased them like demons wanting their blood and they had to immediately escape to the hatch if they want to live. Tales couldn't remember the last time he had galloped like that but today, his heart pounded in his chest harder than he could ever recall. Death was calling and all they could do was outrun it. The access tunnel appeared on their right and both ponies turned into it with complete synchronization.

The stairs were steep but it didn't matter. If they slowed down, the water would definitely get them and suck them right into the main tunnel. Both ponies knew that. Ignoring the pain in their chest and hooves, they kept the pace and finally jumped out of the tunnel and returned to the solid concrete floor they had always been used to. Their lungs fought for breath as their hearts still raced in their chests. It took them a long while to recover, unmoving from the exhaustion. But Tales was at least able to speak after a while.

"We…" he breathed weakly. "We are not doing that ever again."

"I'll agree with you then." Steelmane, based on her voice, seemed to have recovered by then. "Let's avoid those trips from now on."

"Did you…?"

Steelmane sighed and shook her head, making Tales shake his in response. Feeling like they'd just wasted their time in the tunnels, his thoughts returned to trying to think of places where they might be; dead or alive.


"Been out with her again?"

Tales turned his head exhaustedly towards his sister who was still on the bed, reading the same book. All the usual if it hadn't been for the awkward question hanging in the air. Thinking it might look bad denying it; he admitted "hanging out" with her but kept the details of their misadventure in the aqueduct. After a short silence, he noticed she wasn't paying attention anyway and had gone back to her reading. Sighing lightly, he moved off to the kitchen to prepare for dinner; the gift still laid propped up against a wall. But despite wondering why, he turned his thoughts back to the chore at hand.

The kitchen sink was spotless as always save for the water damaged markings that littered its otherwise almost-chromic finish. Deft hooves operated the valves, letting the collected water from the roof to flow down the pipes and onto a pot. With the pot placed back on the stove, four potatoes came under the light torrent of water, dirt washing off their skin then softly plopped into the simmering water on the stove. Heat and time slowly ate the hardness, soon making them soft and mashable.

Two bowls of sweet goop landed softly on the table; steam rising from their forms and oats sprinkled atop. The scent wafted through the door, into the next room, and finally catching the reading filly's attention, beckoning her to the table. But her trance was suddenly broken by a yell coming from the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready!"

Silence, save for the noisy mashing sound of food being hastily eaten, hung above the table's occupants. Tales wasn't exactly hungry. Not after what he had just gone through. Glint, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice and simply ate away while stealing glances at her book. At least that was what Tales thought. But with her bowl now lapped clean, her quiet demeanor returned though it was unexpectedly her who broke the silence.

"You started hating your name soon after I had this, didn't you…?"

Glint slowly closed the book before her and looked up to her brother. Tales looked up from his meal; his expression was unreadable but definitely unexcited. In the pit of his stomach, he couldn't point out whether he felt guilt or realization. I felt heavy; negative. It was true that he didn't like his name but Tales was a good nickname.

Why did I hate it?

"After dad disappeared, you gave me this. The only reminder I had that I…" A tear slid down a grey-furred cheek. "…I still had a brother that loves me."

Silence.

Glint and Tales stared for a while as pitter patters kept itself as the only anchor reality had between the two. Slowly, the clopping of hooves on floor broke the oblivion of sound and warmth surrounded the younger. Tales held his sister tight in his hooves as she mirrored the act.

"It's been 7 years…" whispered Tales.

"Since we last talked?"

"Since I last held you like this."

And no other words were said that night.


Glint slowly opened her eyes; the book lay before her snout, neatly placed on a pillow. She stared at the item almost as if it was foreign and it didn't belong where it lay. Losing track of time was easy for Glint and thus she didn't know how long she'd been staring at her book. Thirty minutes? An hour? Two hours? To her, it really didn't matter; it was just the way she woke up. Moving to sit, she slowly looked around only to find her brother's side of the bed empty.

Maybe he's gone to work early she thought as she finally got to her hooves, still clueless about the time. Picking up her book, she trotted to the kitchen to find oats already waiting for her in a bowl. If anything, oats in the morning was nothing short of her favorite. Trotting to the table, a flash of white caught her eye slipping out of her book. Pausing for a moment to see that it was a note, she lightly placed her book on the table and doubled back for the mysterious letter.

"Happy birthday!" was written on top in Tales' large cursive style. Then at the bottom half wrote "I really hope you like it."

She recognized it. It was the note on the book seven years ago. No, eight now. It was eight years ago. Eight years ago… Glint sat on the floor, hugging the note in her hooves as if it was Tales himself.

As if lightning had just struck, she remembered the package Tales tried to give her. She never liked opening anything for her birthday when it wasn't the occasion. The memory of her father saying it was bad luck makes her chuckle every time but she was a good filly to follow her father's instruction… even if it's not really practical.

The package felt light but definitely sturdy. Glint placed it on the table and began to tear the wrapping, revealing the black contents. Her eyes widened at the realization as she picked it out of the box but before she could try it, rushed knocks landed on her door.

"Is anypony home?" A feminine voice. Glint set the item on the table and rushed to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked, standing right behind the set of planks that acted as her barrier against the stranger.

The stranger seemed to be surprised at the voice returned to her but not too long a silence was needed to get her to reply. "I'm Steelmane. I need to talk to Tales."

"What do you need from my brother?"

"Brother…?"

Silence.

"Tales is my brother."

Steelmane stood behind the door, unsure of what to make of this bit of surprise she was going through. Tales had a sister and she wasn't sure how to handle it. For all she knew, she could have gotten him killed just the night before. But now wasn't the time to fret on things like that. She had something more important to do.

"Where's Tales?" she finally asked after a while of silence.

"He left early, I don't know where he went but-"

"Then I better go and find him. It's urgent."

"Wait!" Glint opened the door as Steelmane turned. The mare stood a full two heads taller than the filly; their fur matching the other's. Steelmane's monochrome eyes looked straight at the filly's crimson ones. "What happened to my brother?"

Fire red eyes.

"I don't know." She hesitated. "But I know he's not safe."


Water persistently splashed on Tales' hooves. Water stained with blood. Another pony approached his form; one pony he'd been searching for. The very same pony who was now striking him down with hooves, blow after blow.

A yellow hoof struck his jaw hard. Tales felt a strong click as he fell to the floor yet again. He didn't want to fight. He searched far too long just to accidentally kill this guy. And he could still remember what this colt told him, filling him with even more guilt.

"If it wasn't for your freak tattooed friend, Cutter'd still be alive!" Another blow. "She killed him!" More pummeled his face and body; he could almost hear his bones snapping.

Then the blows stopped. Tales weakly looked up to see the assailant sit beside him, sobbing. If it was any other day, he'd have thought this was a pathetic sight but he understood this time. He slowly got up, trying to ignore all the pain in his body.

"You didn't have to kill him. You didn't have to drown him like that."

"We… didn't." Tales replied. He could barely breathe from the pain his chest was going through. Every breath he took was like needles piercing his lungs.

"LIES!" Another blow threatened to hit him but it never came. "Lies… I know you threw him into the aqueduct."

"We looked… for both of you there…" Tales panted as he kept struggling to spew out words. "We nearly died ourselves… And I wouldn't lie… No reason to…"

"Why would you look for us? What's the point! You beat us up and now you're going to kill us!" Bloodshot eyes glared at Tales' defeated form and behind him was the open manhole to an aqueduct. The entirety of the yellow colt's mind wanted to buck him into the hole of raging water but reason was the only thing stopping him. And Tales had nothing logical to tell. He didn't know why either. Fear maybe? Maybe that was the only reason after all. But fear of what? Execution? Or maybe it was guilt? All these thoughts played in his mind but the silence was enough to convince the yellow colt of Tales' intentions.

"You wanted to make sure you killed us right! That's why!" The colt stood triumphant. "Well, you're not getting any quarter from me! You've tried but you failed! And now you'll meet your demise!"

Tales looked up as the colt turned around. He was in no condition to fight. Everything hurt; he could barely move. And as the yellow colt's legs reeled in, he accepted his fate. His eyes closed and he felt the darkness swallow him for the last time.

"LET GO OF ME!"

Tales opened his eyes to find that he had passed out and was now laying on the ground. He was wet but he didn't feel the droplets of rain hitting his face… or any part of his body. He shifted his eyes to see why to find a black umbrella looming over his form and the face of a crying Glint.

"Brother…" was all she said as she buried her face into Tales' neck, crying. He tried to move a leg to hold her but the pain was too much to bear. He was sore all over.

"LET ME GO!" Tales shifted his eyes again to catch a glimpse of Steelmane carrying the now tied up colt. His legs were bound together and folded into his body, making him look uncomfortable but easy to lug around by carrying by the rope. The colt kept trying to struggle but the rope's bind was too tight to let him do any form of movement save breathing. Tales would have been relieved had he not noticed two important details; Steelmane's deadly glare and how close the colt was to the opening of the aqueduct. He didn't want to believe it either but was it possible? Could it have been Steelmane who killed this colt's friend? He barely knew her but she didn't exactly seem to be the type to do such a thing… Could she? Steelmane suddenly lifted the colt. Panic suddenly washed all over his face and Tales knew he had to try something.

"NO!" Tales shouted as Glint reeled back in shock. "Don't do it!"

Steelmane froze. Her glare still locked into the fear-stricken colt. Everything froze. There was no movement save for the ever-present rain. Slowly, Steelmane's eyes began to soften and slowly started to lower the colt's pathetic form.

"You won't get away with this" the colt whispered. "Everyone will hear about this and you're all going to be executed."

Steelmane's expression instantly returned as she let go of the rope. The colt fell but not before managing to grab onto something as a last resort in his attempt to save himself. Steelmane's hood tore from her coat as the yellow colt fell into the water, never to emerge again. The horrified siblings kept silent as Steelmane closed the duct and walked away. With nothing else to do or see, or perhaps in an attempt to forget, Glint turned back to Tales, burying herself once again on to him. But Tales kept his eyes on Steelmane, his vision once again beginning to blur. But before he passed out, he realized one thing which would lead to another… The grey on her mane was washing off… revealing a blue mane; there was only one mare with a blue mane. And one word escaped his muzzle as the black welcomed him back once again:

.

.

.

"Mom…"

None question for it is a norm. It means nothing. It is simply "law".