To say that Mike was having a pleasant day would have been quite accurate. To him, walking around any part of Equestria was quite nice, and the longer he stayed, the more appealing it was. This was a land of peace and harmony; love and inclusion; civilisation and wilderness. It may have been a mere three weeks before winter, but that didn’t matter much to Mike. It was still pleasantly warm, and the occasional breeze didn’t affect him much. Flowers of every color were still all over the streets and flower boxes of Ponyville, and the trees along the road still had their vibrant hues of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. He could see the local fauna prepping their homes for winter, and the decorations in ponies’ houses being exchanged for those of the upcoming season. It was, overall, quite a lovely sight. The only thing that bothered him was all of the stares.

Constant open-mouthed gawking from the ponies whenever he walked by was beginning to grate on Mike’s nerves, though that was only evidenced by the occasional twitch of the lips. One would think that the multitude of events that Ponyville had endured would have meant that the residents would be used to seeing strange beings, though that was obviously not the case. Mike was tall. Very tall, even for a human. Being a full 2,1 metres tall, Mike towered over most creatures, minotaurs included. At that height, it wasn’t hard to catch the attention of anyone, even from individuals quite a ways away. One of the most notable features of Mike was one that definitely made the ponies curious: he was quite well-dressed. His full suit ensemble fit him just perfectly, indicating a tailored job, and not a seam was out of place. A slick ebony walking cane was set with his pace every time he took a step.The dress shoes he wore were polished to perfection, and his white dress gloves appeared freshly ironed. Mike’s lower-back length, straight, black hair had a natural, healthy sheen to it that would make most women green with envy, and despite it contrasting sharply with his very pale skin, he still appeared a dashing figure amongst any crowd. One look at Mike would tell anyone that he was no mere beast, but rather, a being of utmost refinement.

Mike didn’t have anything against the common pony. It was rather difficult to find any being that Mike did not enjoy the company of, no matter who they were or what they did. However, he did tend to gravitate towards the classier places whenever he went out. It wasn’t out of some sense of being more important; he found that he rather enjoyed the interactions that came with polite and disguised banter between well-to-do individuals, especially when looking for answers, as he was at the time. Carrying himself with a graceful poise in his great strides - never walking too fast or too slow - he continued on his way towards the fine dining restaurant that Ponyville had recently gotten. After a few minutes of walking, he had arrived at The Silver Platter. It only took a few seconds after he sat down and set aside his cane at one of the outside tables for the staff to realise that he actually intended to eat there. Seeing the tall being simply sit down and wait to be served seemed to snap most of the surrounding ponies out of their stupors, nearly all of them returning to their daily business after seeing that the new creature wasn’t hurting anyone.

“Um, excuse me, but might I ask who you are?”

The voice came from the only pony who had thus far attempted to approach Mike. It had been a minute or so after sitting down that a grey coated, black-maned earth pony had trotted up to where Mike was sitting, asking him the first question he’d heard all day. Turning his head to look at the newcomer, Mike took note of the pony’s pink bowtie and treble clef cutie mark, alongside the large cello case she rolled beside her.

“Ah, yes. My name, madam, is Mike. Quite simple, I know, but the full thing is one that most people have difficulty with, and is rather hard to remember, so that is what I shall stick with. Might I inquire as to yours?” responded Mike.

Caught a bit off guard by Mike’s response, the mare hesitated before responding. “I am Octavia Philharmonica, sir, and I must say: you appear a tad bit out-of-place.”

Mike chuckled gently while looking at the pony beside him. “I get that quite often. I assure you, I am but a humble traveler. Please, do take a seat. I am feeling a little lonely, so I do hope you’ll indulge my request to dine.”

“Actually, I came here to do just that. I often frequent here after my rehearsals, and I just arrived back in town after an extended weekend performing with the orchestra in Canterlot.” Octavia took a seat across from Mike while saying this. “You know, a pony of your caliber practically screams ‘upper Canterlot’. I feel that you would fit in quite nicely there.”

“While I am not a pony, to correct your statement, I am sure that what you say is true, though I’ve never been there myself, Miss Philharmonica.”

“Please, just Octavia will do fine. From what I’ve seen, y-”

“Might I ask what you two would like to drink, this afternoon?” came the question from the waiter who had just walked to the table, placing a pair of menus on top of it.

“Just a glass of water will do fine, thank you,” said Mike.

“I’ll have some Sec Blanc de Noirs Champagne, if you would please,” Octavia remarked.

As the waiter turned and went back into the building, Octavia decided to continue her discussion. “As I was saying, for such an interesting individual, you arrived without much fanfare at all.”

“Well,” Mike responded, “the abated silence is much preferable over the running and screaming I’m used to. You would not believe how often that happens. I’ve had entire villages evacuated because I simply passed near it. Quite tragic, really.”

“That sounds dreadful! Whyever would ponies run away? You clearly aren’t some savage beast.”

“Most of those incidents were the result of some misunderstandings, you see, and rumors spread to cause some of the others. I am quite relieved to find a community so . . . unique . . . as this one. I find it truly heartwarming.”

The waiter returned, taking their orders, though Mike - oddly enough - did not order anything at all, much to the confusion of the maître d'. Octavia, however, didn’t seem to notice. Once again, she continued with her inquiries of Mike.

“Now, I do enjoy the personal details, but might I ask what you are, Mike? I can’t say I’ve seen anything like you before, and I find it quite interesting. I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she said.

Mike paused to look around a bit, as though he expected the scenery to have changed since he began talking. After a few brief seconds, he resumed his conversation. “Oh no, it is no problem at all, Octavia. Again, it is a question I come across all too often. I am what is known as a human. Though I am quite tall for one, most all humans look similar to what I do. There aren’t many of us out there on this fine planet, but we are quite the robust species. While I’m not entirely comfortable with explaining where I’m from at the moment, I will tell you that you would enjoy it, and fit in almost as though it were a second home. Should we have more meetings in the future, I may have to show you one day.”

Octavia was still trying to get a picture of what other humans would look like, if Mike was a base model, as he said. Taller than any pony, thin appendages, and thick hair only on the top of the heads, from what she could see. It was rather hard to gauge what the normal hues of irises they had would be, considering Mike’s were a striking violet. Or silver. Perhaps a muted brown? She was not sure how she didn’t notice it earlier, but Mike’s eyes seemed to change from one color to the next, though mostly among the three colors she noticed.

“While I am no stranger to attention, Miss Octavia, I believe that any more gazing into my eyes would result in your food going cold,” said Mike.

These words had the desired effect, and Octavia snapped out of her brief trance. When had her food arrived? She certainly did not remember anyone coming close to the table in the past minute. She was sure anyways. ‘How long was I looking at his eyes?’ she thought. Assuming it did not mean much, Octavia began eating her meal. In between bites, she decided to ask some of the more obvious questions.

“So tell me, Mike. Why are you here in Ponyville?” She was quite enjoying the fettuccine carbonara that she had chosen. Not bad, for a new dish.

“Hmm. I expected that might pop up eventually. I do so hope I don’t ruin the mood. You see, Octavia I have come here in search of my brother. It’s a rather important matter, and of the utmost urgency. I have to find him, and stop him before anything bad happens. I fear what he plans to do now that he’s here.”

“Why would you need to stop him? Is he a bad pony, to need stopping?” inquired Octavia.

“One of the worst, actually. Also, he isn’t a pony; he is most definitely a human like me. It’s been a little while since I’ve last seen him, and as soon as I felt his presence near here, I knew I had to find him before he does something. You see, my brother - Josephi is his name - is a wily, cunning, and genius person. His silver tongue allows him to worm his way into many situations, often befriending the nearest figure of authority he can find, appearing as a ‘benevolent’ force to stop the ‘evil’ me. Alas, this feud has gone on for far too long, and I fear the end may be a far ways off.”

“What happened to cause this to begin with, if I might ask?” Octavia, while rather uncomfortable with the idea of an unresolved family issue, was thoroughly intrigued.

Mike lowered his head and sighed before responding. “Well, a long time ago, I made a rather grievous mistake. While I eventually righted my wrong, he couldn’t let go of what I’d done. I know that I can never fully make up for what I did to him, but I had at least hoped that we’d be able to come to an entente, of sorts. Alas, he still tries to find every possible way to hurt me, all in the name of revenge. And so, once I learned he was here, I came immediately to make sure that he does not pull others in, and involve innocents in our debacle.”

“Well, Mike, I most certainly admire your drive to save others while finding a solution to your little feud. I hope there is a way I could help.” Octavia had finished her pasta and breadsticks at this point, and was enjoying the remainder of her wine whilst listening to Mike’s explanation.

“Actually, could you perhaps inform me of where I might find a high-ranking official or authority of some sort? He’s had almost a full day, so I am sure I can find him around that sort, if my experiences are anything to go by.”

Thinking for a bit, Octavia nodded to herself before answering. “I believe that the best place to start would be Twilight Sparkle’s castle, off in that direction-” Octavia pointed with a hoof in the general direction of the castle, though it could clearly be seen above the rooftops. “which should be where you find Princess Twilight, and I doubt you get much higher of an authority in this area.”

Mike turned around in his seat to see the castle looming a ways behind him. In hindsight, it was a rather obvious point, and it was all Octavia could do to guess how he had missed it. “My, that is quite the sight, wouldn’t you say? I have to thank you for this, Octavia. I enjoyed our little chat, and I do so hope I might see you again sometime. You are quite the interesting one, Miss Octavia. I like that. Anyways, allow me to pay for your meal. It’s the least I could do.” Before Octavia could protest, Mike pulled a large handful of odd coins from his suit pocket and deposited them on the table, right next to the bill that the waiter had placed while they were speaking. These coins were unlike any that octavia had seen before; while they were around the same size as a Bit, they appeared to be made of silver, and were stamped with a human’s face on one side, and an odd owl on the other. Needless to say, Octavia was skeptical of their ability to actually pay for the meal.

“Umm . . . Mike, I don’t think th-”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted, “It’ll be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t leave you high and dry, as they say. Now, I’ll be off, Miss Octavia Philharmonica. I bid thee, antío!” With that, Mike turned on his heel, retrieved his cane, and resumed the same pace he had earlier, following the streets toward the Castle of Friendship.

“Are you ready to pay, madam?” asked the waiter from beside Octavia.

She took a few more seconds to observe the retreating human, before looking over to the waiter. “Well, I would, but I don’t believe that I have-” Once again, Octavia was astounded. Where the odd silver coins had been a moment ago, now rested a pile of Equestrian Bits, all totalling the exact amount of the bill. Shaking it off, she restarted. “Yes, actually. I believe that it is all there, sir. Thank you for the excellent service, and have a nice day.” Having excused herself, Octavia retrieved her cello case from beside the table and began her walk back to her house. It had certainly been an interesting afternoon for her.

“Jaxi?”

“Yes, Al?”

“ . . . Do you think we’re going to get to do anything soon?”

“I must say, woman, CALM DOWN! This is the fifth time today that you’ve asked me that, Alcestis, and every time I have told you that I don’t know. It’ll take some time for the big man to get anything going, considering he just left yesterday. You’ve gone much longer without the master being near you; don’t become a fidgety little schoolfilly.”

“UGH! I know I’ve gone longer, but c’mooooon. We finally get a hint of some real action, and then we just end up sitting here! Don’t you want to do something, Ajax?”

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t. It has been a while, hasn’t it. However, I choose to contain my anxiousness. Even ‘Nesty and Po are biding their time. The very least you could do is prepare, or something.”

“Fine, but I hope you know that I get first dibs on the Fountain.”

“I have no qualms, though you might have to fight Ty for that one.”

“Fuck no! Why don’t you fight him for me?”

“Language, Al. The reason I don’t want to is because - quite like you - I have no desire to find my insides on my outside and my everything thoroughly cooked. I will have no part of your petty squabble. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be having my daily cribbage match with Ant. If you’re really that bored, you can go assist Tree and Mead with their prep work. Goodbye.”

Ajax left the room, leaving a very bored Alcestis to flop about on the oversized chair in front of the fireplace. “Where’s that goddamn map?” she sighed. After a few minutes of scanning the room from the chair, she finally spied it on the table several metres away. “Ugh. Why is it always so far away?” Focusing on the map, she levitated it over to where she sat, looking up and down the crimped parchment.

“Hey Jaxi?” she yelled out, hoping he was still within earshot.

“Yes?” came the slightly irritated reply.

“Where was it that we were going, again?”

“We covered this extensively, Al.”

“I know, but I forgot again. Humor me, here.”

“Equestria, Alcestis. We’re going to Equestria.”

He had just about had it. It had been about a month since he had begun moving inland, and Ete was growing more and more unhappy. It was his fifth day in the McIntosh Hills, and already it was on his growing list of ‘places to never visit again’. Considering the size of it, most would assume that it could be crossed in about two days, possibly three if one stopped frequently outside of sleeping. They would be wrong.

“Pointy,” muttered Ete to himself. “Why does everything have to be so. Fucking. POINTY?”

As he had learned, much of the McIntosh Hills were made up of small points and ridges, deep crevices and thin ravines, mostly made from eroded sedimentary rock and hardened shale chips. The ridges and small, thin, closely grouped mounds that covered almost all of the surface made walking through the Hills a nightmare. One wrong step could result in a stuck limb, a punctured anything, or even a tumble down a rock face . . . onto more pointy rocks. There wasn’t much cover at all, with no caves to speak of, and finding a flat piece of ground without pointy rocks was a near impossible task. To say that Ete was a little tired was a very large understatement. He was low on rations, there was almost no vegetation or water sources, and the sun was always beating down with not a cloud in sight. In all, Ete was not enjoying his time in Equestria at all. Sure, the landscape was actually quite beautiful, what with clearly visible layers in the rocks ranging from deep grey to saturated reds and oranges, and a natural rolling feel to the rock formations, but not to Ete. Ete was willing to level the whole area, if only he was capable of doing so. He would keep going, though. The map that the locals had given him a few weeks ago said that there was a railroad track fairly close to the edge of the Hills, if he managed to get out. Ete was determined to get there. Once he was, it would be smooth sailing from there. At least, smoother sailing than trying to navigate the McIntosh Hills.

“Maybe I’ll keep one of these damned rocks, then, when she starts laughing, I can shove it down Electra’s throat and watch her gag on it. Bet she already found the boss, dammit. I was hoping to keep my 300 drachmae.”

Ete continued to grumble to himself, and though it made him appear a bit crazy, it definitely helped take his mind off of the pointy rocks. He was going to have trouble forgetting those for a while.

Mike quite enjoyed young children. It often warmed his heart to see such young innocence enjoying the world around them. It was no surprise, then, that Mike was delighted to have come across a trio of fillies on his way to the castle that Octavia had directed him to. The three in question were in the process of running around the corner when they came to a screeching halt in order to avoid actually running into Mike. Upon seeing him, any other thought processes ground to a halt.

“Uhm, girls?” said Applebloom.

“Yeah?” chorused Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.

“Yer seein’ what ahm seein’, right?”

In unison again, “Eeyup.”

.When Mike saw the three, however, his face broke into a pleased smile. “Hello there! How are you three on this fine day?”

After the Cutie Mark Crusaders had finished gaping like stranded fish, it was Scootaloo who responded first. “Um . . . fine. Who the heck are you?”

“Well, little one, my name is Mike. Might I ask for your names?” Mike hummed curiously after he finished speaking.

“Ah’m Applebloom, this here is Sweetie Belle -” she pointed a hoof at Sweetie “- and this here’s Scootaloo,” she did the same with the orange pegasus. It was, of course, Applebloom who had answered Mike’s question, on account of Scootaloo being too busy muttering something to herself about ‘not small’.

“Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Applebloom, and you as well, Miss Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. Now then, where were you three headed in such a hurry?”

“We were just goin’ back ta our clubhouse from Twilight’s castle. Say, you look like the fella’ we found and took back ta Twilight. Do you know ‘im?” Applebloom squinted her eyes, almost as though it would help her learn more about Mike.

“I daresay I most likely do. Unfor-” Mike was cut off before he could even finish his word.

“Really!?” Scootaloo sounded ecstatic. “Do you know any cool stories? I bet you do. The other guy didn’t really want to talk much, and when he did, it was all really confusing.”

Mike rubbed his chin with one hand. “Did he now? Yes, that sounds quite like him. I suppose I do have some time, so I could tell you a story . . .“

“Scoots,” Sweetie Belle said, “I don’t think now’s the time-”

“No, no, Miss Belle, It’s quite alright. I haven’t had someone to tell stories to in quite a while. First, though, we should find a more comfortable place to talk, rather than the middle of the road.”

“But the nearest-” Applebloom started.

“Aah, here we go!” Mike interrupted. The fillies looked over to where Mike was gazing. There, against the wall of one of the smaller cottages, was a park bench just the right size for all four of them. It had certainly not been there a moment ago, much to the confusion of anypony who had been paying attention.

“How did you-?” Scootaloo asked.

Mike smirked. “Magic.”

As the three went to sit on the bench next to Mike, Scootaloo was busy muttering to herself again. “I am really starting to hate that response.”

“Pardon?” asked Mike.

“Nothing . . .”

“So, you three, what kind of story would you like to hear?” Mike leaned forward against his cane.

“Do you know any classic-like ones?” asked Applebloom.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Like, one with a hero and a villain and a big struggle or somethin’.”

Mike stopped and closed his eyes to think for a moment. After a minute of thinking, he had his choice. “I think I have just the one, then.

“It was a long time ago, in a land not too far off, not too different from your own. Now, this place was one of the most beautiful places that had ever existed. It never knew cold nor hot, disasters or unpredictability. The flowers always bloomed, the grass was always green, all of the animals lived together peacefully, and the rain always arrived at the right time and in just the right amount to keep the land healthy. Indeed, this place was perfect. In that perfect place, there was a small village. There weren’t too many ponies that lived there, but they were all very happy. How could they not? Life was great for them. Everything that the ponies needed to live was provided by the land around them, and they always made sure to never harm the land. Life continued for many years and multiple generations before any change came. For the most part, the Wizard kept to himself, hardly ever being seen outside of his house. The few times he was, he didn’t talk much to the townsfolk, but he did help them out if they needed it, and everypony came to see the Wizard as one of their own.

“Several months after the Wizard’s arrival, he started spending more time around the ponies, often proposing and leading grand projects. Using his grand magic, the Wizard helped the ponies expand their little village, advance their technology, and grow as a community. The land was perfect as it always had been, and it continued to be so for a long time. During these years of progress, the Wizard came to be seen as a prominent town figure, often being a source of guidance for the ponies when they needed help. It was over a hundred years later that things changed once again.

“The Wizard had ushered in an era of expansion for the ponies, and they grew rapidly. The small village was no more, and in its stead was a small city. The hundred-or-so ponies there had become multiple thousand, and life continued to remain perfect. During all this time, the Wizard himself never changed; he stayed the one constant among a sea of change. What the ponies didn’t know, however, was that there was a storm brewing, and it was just waiting until the right time to be released. The residents of that city were alarmed when a stallion went missing one day. Though they tried hard to find him, none could. It was a month later when a couple more ponies went missing. The next month there were even more ponies that never showed back up. At this point, panic was slowly spreading across the city. Who was next? Who was doing it? What happened to the missing ponies? Why was their perfect way of life being disturbed? During these months, the ponies repeatedly asked the Wizard for help, and though he promised he was doing his best, not even he could discover what was going on.

“And so it was that in the fifth month since the kidnappings started that everypony found out what had been going on, though they quickly wished they hadn’t. The one whom many called friend, leader, and comforter, had turned his back on those he had been helping since he had arrived. Yes, it was the Wizard himself who had been taking the ponies; many had been stolen from their own homes and brought to the WIzard’s cruel lair he called a home. Inside, he had been performing the most evil of experiments, testing his theories on the living ponies he had so callously taken. The Wizard was after something, and he was determined to get what he wanted: an army.

“It turned out that the Wizard had travelled to the small village all those years ago to begin a long-term project, in which he would mold a civilisation to the point where it had enough citizens to turn into his own personal army. With these ponies, he planned to take over the nearby lands and claim them as his own. For the Wizard though, he had a problem: he needed soldiers much stronger than the average pony. No matter how many thralls he had in his service, they would never last if they were mere ponies. At first, the Wizard had began his experimentation on the deceased, attempting to enlist the dead into his service, but it turned out to be a fruitless endeavour. What he needed were living beings, fully capable of thought, but with strong bodies and complete subservience.

“That was when he started his tests on the living townsfolk. Finding simple mind control ineffective, and crystal augmentation too unstable, The Wizard finally found what he was looking for. He realised that one of the most resilient things he could find was his own shadow; it never felt pain, it couldn’t be physically altered, and - best of all - it never did what he didn’t want it to. It was at that point that the Wizard had focused his efforts on turning the ponies into living shadows, completely formed to follow his will. With an army of those shadow ponies, he would be near unstoppable.

“This is what the townsfolk found out the hard way when they discovered they could not escape the city. None were a match for the Wizard’s strange magics, and one by one they fell to his twisted designs. Exactly one hundred and sixty-two years after the Wizard had first appeared in the small, perfect town, not a single pony remained. In their stead was an army of living shadows - beasts meant for nothing more than war and destruction. These shadow ponies, which he called ‘the Umbrum’, ravished the land they once called home. Forests were burned to the ground, fields made barren and salted, and water sources corrupted to become the most foul liquids ever seen. It was then that the cold set in. Gone was the perfect weather, and in was the biting cold, bringing with it snow and ice and the harshest of winds. The land become a desolate arctic wasteland, completely uninhabitable. It was a place cold enough to freeze a wendigo, and had a weather so oppressive and indomitable that not even the strongest of magics known could halt the unending winter. Any memories that the once-perfect land had held were frozen solid and shattered, not a soul alive to remember its legacy, nor a relic left behind to give clue as to what was once there. The Wizard had won, and with his victory came a tragedy the likes of which had never happened in all of history.

“However, it was not the end.

“Before the Wizard could begin his conquest of all that could be seen, another stranger traversed that vile winter desert, and confronted the Wizard. This stranger had heard, long ago, about a mystical place far to the north, where the sun always shined and the grass was always green; where the land gave everything, and no one knew anything but perfection; where harmony was the very substance of life. This stranger set forth to find that mystical place, and would stop at nothing to get there. Along the way, the Traveler learned many things, and grew in magic and knowledge, eventually finding his way to the destination of many years. However, this was no longer the perfect land that had been spoken of: it was the abomination that the Wizard had turned it into.

“The Traveler eventually found his way to the heart of the land, and was determined to stop the Wizard. When the Wizard attempted to dispatch the Traveler, he was stopped by the Traveler’s own powerful magic. Yes, the years that the Traveler had journeyed had taught him much, and he became a powerful match for the Wizard’s evil magic. The battle raged on for what was said to be twelve moons, neither one resting or relenting. It was on the first day of the thirteenth cycle that the Traveler gained the upper hand, and defeated the Wizard, binding him to the ethereal plane for what was to be hundreds upon hundreds of moons.

“Despite his triumph over evil, the Traveler still had the problem of the Umbrum. The shadow ponies were no longer under the Wizard’s control, and they quickly retained their individuality and sentience. However, these ponies, corrupted beyond any hope of repair, were still malevolent creatures, prepared to wreak tragedy upon anything they could come across. The Traveler did not have the heart to destroy the Umbrum, so he decided to contain them. Using the great crystals that had formed under the city since the Wizard’s reign began, the Traveler trapped the Umbrum inside of them. Unfortunately, these bonds would not hold on their own: they needed another source to keep them imprisoned.

“Using a large crystal that he infused with the strongest of his magic, the Traveler created a powerful artefact that would continually strengthen the bond holding the Umbrum in their crystals. On its own, though, the artefact would slowly drain, and eventually weaken to the point that the Umbrum would be released into the world once more. Using his magic one last time, the Traveler created a great city atop where the old used to be, and stored the relic inside. Journeying back to the land he had come from, he led a large group of individuals to the city he created, and set them to watch over the artefact, regenerating its magic when needed. Leaving the residents of the new city to grow and develop, the Traveler had created an ever-living guardian, one where the magic inside of each of the citizens would regenerate the artefact, keep out the dread winter that was its surroundings, and make another land of harmony where the previous had fallen.

“The fate of that city was lost to the annals of history, and none knew what became of the Traveler, but it was said that he began a new journey, waiting until the Wizard made his next appearance. Thus ends the tale of the land that was, ceased to be, and was once more.”

When Mike had ended his tale, he looked around to see that he had caught quite a bit of attention, and had a very large crowd surrounding him and the three fillies. Some sat awestruck at the grand tale, others had tears in their eyes, and some appeared completely entranced in eagerness, as though hoping to hear more.

“WOW!” Scootaloo yelled. “I. Have. NEVER. Heard a story as awesome as that!” Following the orange pegasus’s declaration, a tremendous applause echoed out across the street, all of the ponies in attendance absolutely amazed by the story.

“Where did you hear that story?” Applebloom asked, her energy clearly seeping into her every word.

“My dears, that story is one of the greatest plays to have ever been created. It has been said that the original actors performed it so well, that none have ever been able to recreate that first performance. Some say that it was so lifelike, that it actually was a real story. I am not surprised that most, if not all, of you have never heard it before: it is a rather special one from where I come from, you see.” was Mike’s response.

“It was really cool, mister Mike!” said Sweetie Belle. “Do you have any more?”

“I’m afraid,” Mike responded, “that that is all I have time for today. I really must be going.” With a pleased chatter, the ponies dispersed, going back to whatever they had been doing before stopping to listen. Once he had ample room, Mike stood back up, picking his cane up from where it had been leaning against the bench. The Crusaders hopped off of the bench as well, moving to stand in front of Mike.

“Thanks fer the story, Mike!” Applebloom said.

“Yeah, it was really awesome!” agreed Scootaloo.

“Do you think,” Sweetie Belle asked, “that we could hear another story some other time?”

Mike hummed in thought for a few moments. “Perhaps. It mostly depends on how the rest of this evening goes.” Looking into the sky, one could see that it was getting late into the afternoon.

“Well, we hope you can visit us again soon!” Applebloom held untold amounts of hope in her eyes. “Yer a really nice fella’!”

“Thank you, young Applebloom. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a little reunion to attend to. Good bye, you three.” With that, Mike began walking the same path he had earlier, onwards to the Castle of Friendship, giving a backwards wave as he sauntered on.

“I don’t know about you girls,” Sweetie said, “but I think I’ve had enough excitement for today.”

“Yeah, I have to agree on this one,” responded Scootaloo. Deciding that their day had been a productive one, the trio of fillies headed back to their clubhouse, intent on calling it a day. No one noticed that the bench, once a great centre of attention, was no longer there.

Author's Notes:

*Le Gasp!* Who's the real badguy? We'll find out soon . . .

'Kay, so I want to give a big thanks to Sober for being a huge source of motivation when I first started writing this a year ago. His awesome stuff can be found here, and you totally should. Really. Go do it.
I'm still working on the map, and I'm not sure when it'll be done. On that note, if anyone wants an idea of what I envisioned the McIntosh Hills to be like, imagine Hell's Half-Acre (this and this), but covering a lot more ground and with more hills.
Anyways, thanks for reading, and I look forward to what you have to say in the comments.
Onwards!