Joyful Sound led them down the street until they reached a two-story temple constructed of gray stone. A pathway bordered by bright, multi-colored stream of lovingly tended flowers led to the great wooden doors. Next to the pathway was a wooden sign that declared in peeling blue paint, “Fillydelphia Universalist Temple,” with an image of an open book and a shepherd’s hook beneath it. The tall bell tower was silhouetted against the darkening sky.

“I only have one guest room to offer you,” Pastor Joyful said as she opened up the door and led them into a grand entrance hallway, which was decorated with abstract images of mountainous regions and flowering fields on the walls. “I know it isn’t much, but the temple is always open to those in need.”

“Thank you, Pastor,” Twilight smiled, lifting Spike from her shoulders.

“I just wish we could still serve the community in the ways that we used to,” Joyful sighed.

“Don’t tell me you had to close the food shelf!” Flash cried in disbelief.

Joyful Sound nodded glumly. “The funds and donations just dried up; we couldn’t afford to keep it open any longer. Your mother fought tooth and hoof for it, but it was a fight she couldn’t win.” She paused. “She was a shining star in this community, Flash. She brought hope to everypony she met. I just…I hope that I can continue her work.”

“You will, Pastor,” Flash said quietly.

Phillip looked up at a sign that hung over the door into the sanctuary, reading the flowing golden script: ”Love is the spirit of this congregation, and service is its law. This is our covenant: to dwell together in peace, to seek truth in love, and to help one another.” With a quiet sigh, he pushed the door open for the others.

The sanctuary of the temple was a long rectangular room with several cushioned pews set in regular rows; light blue hymnals sat in slots on the backs of each pew. Both walls on either side had been replaced with floor-to-ceiling windows, which revealed the large gardens that bordered the sanctuary; seven-foot-tall sunflowers stood sentry along the windows, as if peering inside, eager to listen in on the sermons. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, providing only minor illumination. Placed on the raised dais up front was a pipe organ and a round table with a brazier on it.

“This way,” Pastor Joyful said, guiding them down the center aisle. They walked past the dais and through another door, moving up a set of stairs to the upper floors. They passed a few offices, a classroom for younglings, and a room with a piano where the choir practiced. Finally, they reached two rooms at the end of the hallway.

“This one is my room,” Joyful Sound said, gesturing to the door on the right. “You will be staying in here.” She opened the left door to reveal the guest room. The simple room had a light green carpet, a large bed with white sheets, a white sofa with pillows, a small bedside table with a clock and a few books, a simple chair and desk, and a couple of lamps.

“It’s a bit small, but it’ll do,” Twilight said approvingly, examining the room.

“The kitchen and dining room is downstairs,” Joyful said. “I’ll get dinner ready!”

“I’ll come help!” Spike declared, eagerly following her down the stairs. Twilight settled down on the bed, which she found to be comfortably springy.

“She seems nice,” she commented to Flash.

“Pastor Joyful has been running this temple since I was a foal,” Flash said. “She and Mom used to head most of the community services.” He sighed. “I guess somepony else will have to head those.”

An uncomfortable silence hung over the group for a moment like a rogue rain cloud. “We need to take a look at the case files,” Phillip stated.

“Right,” Flash nodded, taking the folder out from underneath his wing. Spreading out the files on the desk, he began to sort through them, placing the photographs of the scene into ordered rows and stacking the reports.

The images displayed White Rose lying dead in one of the two chairs of her sitting room. The room was lit by a single standing lamp in between the chairs. A single partially full glass of milk sat on a coaster on the table in front of her. The front door had been violently kicked in, and lay against the wall, barely hanging onto the doorjamb by a single hinge. A set of framed pictures sat on top of the mantelpiece over the fireplace set against the wall.

Flash picked up one of the photos, which was a closeup of his mother’s face. With her eyes closed and her head hanging low, she should have appeared to simply be asleep; however, even without the visible bloodstains across her neck and chest to betray the truth, the reality was still painfully apparent. Dead ponies do not look like they’re sleeping, they look like they’re dead. And White Rose was dead, never to wake up again. Sighing quietly, Flash stroked the image with a hoof.

Phillip walked up to Flash and put a reassuring hoof on his shoulder. “We’re going to find the pony who killed her, and we’re going to make them pay,” he said quietly.

Flash wiped his eyes and cleared his throat with a nod.

“What’s our plan for tomorrow?” Twilight asked.

“We need to examine the crime scene ourselves,” Flash stated, setting the photographs down. “Maybe we’ll find something that the Guards missed.”

“Speaking of which, I think it’s best that we avoid the Guards as much as possible,” Phillip added. “I don’t trust any of them, not after what I saw today.”

Flash chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “You’re right,” he agreed. “There’s just no way of telling who’s on our side and who’s not.”

“I hate the idea that you can’t even trust Royal Guards,” Twilight sighed. “Why can’t somepony do something?”

“Fillydelphia has been like this since before my mother was born, and it’s only gotten worse over the years,” Flash stated, sitting down next to her. “Ponies have tried to change things, but…” He sighed, suddenly looking dejected.

“Why did I come back here?” he groaned. “There’s only the four of us. Even if I solve mom’s murder and find the killer, there’s no point; a dozen others will pop up to replace him, and nothing will change.” He lowered his head onto his hoof. Twilight slowly draped a wing around him, but he did not react.

Phillip slowly walked in front of Flash. “Because it’s the right thing to do, Flash,” he said. “Nothing is going to stop criminals forever, you and I both know that; but we can’t give up. Ponies have to be shown that the bad guys don’t have to win.”

Flash looked up at him. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said. “They’ve already won.”

“No, they haven’t,” Phil replied firmly. “Not as long as there are good ponies like you who are willing to stand up to them.” He paused, then sighed and put a hoof on Flash’s shoulder. “I get it, Flash. This job...it does feel pointless sometimes, like you’re not getting anything done.”

“How did you deal with it?” Flash asked.

“By keeping at it,” Phillip replied. “By reminding myself that there were ponies who needed help and that they were depending on me.”

“Yeah, but…” Flash looked down at the photographs again. “Mom’s dead. She’s not depending on me for anything anymore.”

“Yes, but these other ponies are,” Twilight responded. “We have a chance to help these ponies, to show them that they don’t have to live in fear.”

“And I ask again: how?” Flash answered.

“We can start by solving your mother’s murder,” Twilight answered. “Just remember, Flash; we will be here to help you every step of the way.” She lifted her forelegs and wrapped them around Flash’s shoulders, hugging him close.

Safe in her embrace, Flash’s walls finally broke. Lowering his face onto Twilight’s shoulder, he began to cry quietly, allowing the tears that he had been holding back for so long to flow from his eyes. Twilight held him tightly, rocking him gently as he wept.

“It’s all right,” Phillip whispered, gently patting Flash on the back. “It’s all right. Let it out.”

After a few minutes, Flash regained control of himself. He sat up, wiping his reddening eyes with his wing. “Thanks,” he croaked hoarsely, managing a weak smile.

Twilight kissed him on the cheek. “You’re welcome.”

“Hey, guys!” Spike called from the doorway, wiping his claws on a towel. “Dinner is served!” Three stomachs rumbled in reply.

“This way, please, madame et messieurs,” Spike said in an over-the-top Prench accent, bowing them down the hallway. He led them back downstairs and into the small kitchen-sitting room. Joyful Sound was setting up a table with five settings, lowering a plate of steaming cobs of corn into place next to a bowl of pasta salad.

“Come and say grace,” she said as she beckoned them to their seats. The friends took their places as Joyful bowed her head, gesturing for each of them to join hooves. Twilight, Spike and Flash all took each other’s hooves without pause, but Phillip hesitated momentarily before taking Joyful’s hoof and Spike’s claw in his own grasp.

“For food, for raiment, for life, for opportunity, for friendship and fellowship, we thank thee, O Lord,” Joyful prayed. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Flash repeated, followed by the others.

“Now, Flash, what have you been up to since you left Fillydelphia for college?” Joyful asked as the group tucked in. “And how did you meet this lovely mare?”

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story…” Flash chuckled, looking over at Twilight. Her eyes widened and she shook her head urgently, silently pleading with him not to speak another word. He grinned at her before continuing.

“See, I met her while I was working as a Crystal House Guard, protecting Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor. I was standing sentry in the crystal hallway during an annual summit between the Princesses. Suddenly, Twilight walks in, lost in thought. I turn to face her…” He snickered. “And she bumps into me. I fall over into the guy next to me, and the entire line falls over like a bunch of dominoes!”

Flash, Spike and Joyful all laughed heartily at the story. Twilight buried her reddening face into her hooves. Even Phillip chuckled quietly over his cob.

The group chatted amicably as they ate their dinner. When the food had been cleared away, Joyful bid them goodnight and they trotted back up the stairs to the guest room.

Twilight yawned as she pulled the covers of the bed back. “Good night, everypony,” she said as she crawled into bed. Spike pulled himself up onto the mattress and snuggled up against her.

“G’night,” Phillip muttered. Doffing his trilby and vest, Phillip tossed his garments into the corner and curled up on the couch, closing his eyes.

Flash carefully took off his armor, sighing with relief as the weight was removed from his body, and quietly placed it on the floor so as not to disturb the others, although he kept his sword well within reach. He placed himself at attention next to the door, switching off the lights with a wing. The room fell silent, save for the slow, steady breathing of his sleeping companions, and he sighed into the darkness. It was going to be a long night.

A beam of sunlight shone through the parted curtains, the warm light rousing Twilight from her sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes and pushed the covers back from her chin, rubbing her eyes as she woke. Spike was still cuddled up against her, snoring softly as he slept; the quiet, familiar sound brought a smile to Twilight’s lips.

Sitting up, she looked towards the head of the room and smiled even wider at the sight. Flash was sitting next to the door, fast asleep, his head resting on Phillip’s shoulder. Phillip looked up at Twilight, tiredly blinking at her; the faintly confused expression on his face showed that he knew he should be embarrassed, but wasn’t.

“He dozed off right when I was thinking about force-feeding him some sleeping pills,” Phillip said quietly.

Twilight chuckled and sat up fully, pushing the covers off her. “All right, boys, time to get up!” she declared, noting the clock on the bedside table reading 7:15.

Spike moaned and clung to Twilight. “Five more minutes,” he whined.

“C’mon, Spike,” Twilight chuckled, nuzzling his head to get him moving.

Flash blinked and woke up with a yawn. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, no worries,” Phillip said, grabbing his vest. “Let’s get some breakfast and get ready.”

Joyful Sound pushed her door open and entered the hallway at the same time as they, smiling as she ran a hoof through her mane. “Good morning, everypony. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you, Pastor,” Twilight greeted her.

“Let’s get you some breakfast,” Joyful said, descending the stairs. “How does Prench toast sound?”

“Awesome!” Spike cheered, hurrying down after her.

One round of Prench toast and four brushed sets of teeth later, the group waved goodbye to Joyful and started on their journey to White Rose’s former home. Spike rode atop Twilight’s shoulder as Flash escorted them down the streets, past sleepy pedestrians on their way to work, loiterers hanging around their favorite corners, and beggars setting up their signs and collection tins.

As they approached an intersection, Flash suddenly paused, flinging out a hoof to stop the others. Peeking around the corner, he spotted a group of five ponies standing in the midst of the narrow street, smoking cigarettes and shouting expletives and taunts at anypony who passed by. All five of them were wearing coats, and each of them had a tattoo or mark somewhere on their body of a crude dark blue snake imposed on a six-pointed star.

“Those must be the Nightmare Snakes,” Phillip muttered, leaning around the corner.

“Let’s keep our distance,” Flash suggested, crossing the street. The group passed the corner quickly but confidently, refusing to look directly at the thugs. Twilight used a spell to plug Spike’s ears to spare him from being assaulted by their language.

“Hey, Flash?” Spike asked as they passed the corner. “Why do ponies join gangs like that anyway?”

“Some do it because they see it as a way to get money,” Flash explained. “Some do it just to feel like they belong somewhere. Others join the gangs for protection from victimization.”

“But there’s better ways to do all that, right?” Spike asked in confusion.

“Not to them, there’s not,” Flash stated, turning a corner. He stopped, looking up at the house in front of them. The house—37 Rosedust Street—was a small white two-story condo, having squeezed its way in between two other houses. Bright yellow “CRIME SCENE: DO NOT ENTER” tape was stretched across the doorframe. The door was still hanging onto the frame by a single hinge.

“We’re here,” Flash said softly. He proceeded up to the door and entered, ducking beneath the tape. The others followed him inside.

The door led directly into the sitting room. White Rose’s body had been long removed, but other than that, the scene was left the same as it was in the crime scene photographs: the same glass of milk on the table, the same lamp lighting the room, the same framed pictures on the mantelpiece.

Flash sighed deeply, walking over to the mantelpiece. His eyes settled on a photograph of a young orange pegasus colt with a shock of lightning blue hair adorned in a set of golden armor made of cardboard, standing proudly as he grinned up at the camera. A small smile crossed Flash’s face. “I didn’t expect to come back here like this.”

“Nopony does,” Phillip responded, looking at the chair where White Rose’s body had lain. The white fabric was forever stained with her blood.

Twilight used her magic to levitate out the case files, organizing them in midair. “All right. The facts state that at 8:34 PM, the local precinct received a call that a neighbor had heard gunshots coming from this address. Two Guards arrived within two minutes and reported that the house was empty, save for the victim, who was…” She glanced up at Flash. “...lying dead on the couch there. The shooter was already long gone. A Guard performed a neighborhood canvas, but produced no witnesses. Nothing appears to have been taken, eliminating robbery as a motive.” She scanned the reports. “Flash, I’m sorry. There’s not much here in terms of evidence.”

Flash slowly turned in a circle, scanning the room. Breathing deep, he expelled his emotional turmoils, forcing himself to detach his mind and heart from the scene. This was just another crime scene, just another murder. Just another victim.

Look for the piece that doesn’t fit. Phillip’s voice whispered in the back of his head. Flash turned to face his mentor, who gazed evenly back at him. He made a small gesture with his head, as if to tell him, Go ahead. This is your scene. Nodding in return, Flash returned to his examination.

“They didn’t say they dusted for hoofprints,” Twilight interjected. “Maybe we should try that! I read a fascinating article in a Scientific Equestrian issue about hoofprint identification that—”

“Wait,” Flash suddenly said, holding up his hoof to silence her. He was looking not at the sitting room, but at the entryway to the kitchen. Inside, he could see the polished marble countertop, the maplewood cabinets and the humming refrigerator tucked into the corner. He strode over to the sink, peering into the neat stacks of dinner dishes and cutlery.

“What is it?” Twilight asked as the others followed him inside.

“Aha!” Flash cried in delight, reaching into the sink and extracting two items: a pair of juiced lemon, their pulp reduced to strings.

“What’s so special about these?” Spike asked. “She could have just used those to make lemon juice.”

“She did,” Flash said, hurrying into the dining room. “But not to drink it! Mom hated lemons!”

He entered the dining room, a small arched room in the back of the house lit by a shaded lamp set in the back windows that offered a view of the dusty street behind the house. Ignoring the old, creaking table and chairs and the decorative plates on the wall, Flash went straight for an old hutch leaning against the wall. Pulling open the drawers one by one, he began to examine the contents therein: old folders, envelopes, stamps, and notepads.

“What are you looking for?” Twilight asked, watching him in growing confusion.

“This!” Flash said, pulling out an envelope. He held it up so that the others could see the address: “Flash Sentry, Castle of Friendship, Ponyville.” Tearing the envelope open with his teeth, he pulled out the sheet within.

To the confusion of the spectators, the letter was blank. But Flash did not seem perturbed by this in the slightest; on the contrary, he grinned excitedly and pointed out a small black dot on the bottom right corner of the sheet.

“It’s something from when Snake and I were kids,” he explained, holding up the letter to the lamplight.

“Of course,” Phillip breathed, realization dawning on his and Twilight’s faces.

Slowly, the hidden writing appeared on the letter; the heat from the lamp revealing the dried lemon juice. Holding the letter up to his gaze, Flash read the message out loud:

“Dear Flash,

"I hope that this message finds you, and finds you well. I fear that I am not long in this world, not because of my age, but because I have made too many enemies recently.

"But I am not afraid. You taught me much in the time that we spent together, but the most important lesson you taught me was the value of bravery. Which is why I have learned that if anything is to change in this town, it is only through the bravery of myself and other ponies.

"Over the past few months, I’ve been doing my best to get close to the citizens of this town, especially the ones that were closely affected by gang activity, and using the information they gave me to help the City Guard combat the gangs. Last week, I managed to make contact with a stallion named Anchor Point. He worked as a liaison between the gangs and the corrupt Guards, trading money and messages, negotiating deals. But he’s gotten tired and he wants out. He’s agreed to tell everything he knows, but he wants protection.

"That’s what this letter is about; asking you for help. The corruption in the City Guard goes much deeper than we previously thought. We’re not sure who we can trust and who we can’t. But I know I can trust you. Please come to Fillydelphia as soon as possible. We can meet with Anchor Point and figure out how to help him.

"You grew up loving this city and its ponies, and you taught me to love them as well. Which is why I know that between the two of us, we can finally make a change here.

"Hoping to see you very soon,

"With love,

"Your mother.

"PS I apologize for using invisible ink, but this message is just too important to be intercepted. I got the idea from watching you and Snake playing detective as colts, passing secret messages back and forth!”

Flash stared at his mother’s final message for a few moments of silence, a proud but sad smile hovering on his face.

“Oh, Flash,” Twilight spoke softly, a similar expression on her face.

“This makes sense,” Phillip nodded. “This is why your mother was killed, because she’d gotten too close. We have to find this Anchor Point before the gangs or the City Guard does.”

“Right!” Twilight declared. “We’ll be able to find his address at the post office!”

“I’ll lead us there,” Flash stated. He tucked the letter, and with it, his mother’s love, into his saddlebag and lead them out the door and back onto the street. Almost as soon as they exited the house, they were assaulted by a fierce icy wind that lashed at their bones as if trying to tear their skin away. Spike shivered and hugged himself to Twilight’s back for warmth.

“Must be a rogue windstorm!” Twilight shouted, using her magic to cast a shield of warmth around them.

“Yeah!” Flash agreed. “It’s too heavy to fly, but the post office isn’t far!” They headed north up the street; although Twilight’s spell protected them from the chill, they gale pushed against them with every step and made their journey a struggle.

Phillip felt the wind trying to tug his hat from his head and plucked it into his vest. Suddenly, he felt a familiar prickling on the back of his neck and stiffened, in spite of the warming spell. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted furtive movement in an alley next to him. Looking up, he noticed figures on the rooftops of the apartment complexes and stores surrounding them.

“Flash,” he muttered, his voice carrying over the wind.

“I see them,” Flash replied quietly, looking around.

“You and Twilight and Spike get out of here,” Phillip ordered.

“We’re not leaving you,” Flash countered.

Before their argument could go any further, a large motorized carriage pulled out from an intersection, blocking their path. Three ponies dismounted from the vehicle. Each of them had a tattoo of a snake with a six-pointed star. The friends turned, but more thugs emerged from the alleyways and from the rooftops. Each of them was armed: long blades, rattling lengths of chain, bats with sharp nails driven into the wood. They surrounded the four friends.

One of the Snakes, a large, meaty pegasus with greasy blonde hair and a pearl coat sneered at them, revealing two missing teeth. “Scream if you want. In this town, nopony listens.”

Author's Notes:

Surprise! It's a cliffhanger!

Okay, obviously, the goons are going to get their butts handed to them, but don't tell anyone.