In which Bon Bon and Lyra's epic tale begins.

The late morning was bright and crisp, suggesting the imminent release of a day where the sky would tantalisingly balance high-orbiting clouds above the promises of unforgettable moments.  A day where the tang of dew-washed heather would hang heavy and thick, and where the expectant silence would be broken by the rowdy choruses of birds and crickets.

Bon Bon stopped her slow trot and filled her lungs with the scent of the world.  She didn’t know much about adventuring—as a Drops, she knew she needed to be more concerned with learning how to benefit from such curious and headstrong ponies—but it certainly felt like the perfect day to be going on one.

She pushed damp blue and pink ringlets of mane from where they had become trapped behind her glasses and grinned.  Was there a better omen than that? A cool breeze pressed against her beige, mud-flecked coat, and its nostalgic siren-call drove her to pluck Grandpa Almond Mix’s words free from it.

“Find your dungeon on an adventurer’s day and you’ll find your fortune too.” The words didn’t feel anywhere near as wise and weathered when spoken from her own mouth, but Bon Bon didn’t mind that in the slightest.  She looked triumphantly at her friend and pumped the air with a hoof.  “Hear that, Cherry? I’m going to be rich!”

“Yeah...” Cherry Berry let the word hang noisily in the air as she slipped out of her cart’s harness and stretched appreciatively.  “Mm, that feels good.”  The purple eyes that so often sparkled beneath her cloudy, yellow mane narrowed as she looked ahead.  “You’re absolutely certain that map of yours is the real deal, Bon?”

“Yes!” Bon Bon tried to keep the uncertainty from her voice as she slid from her own harness, but doubt had crept beneath her skin the moment she had set eyes on the place.  Her face suddenly felt warm under Cherry’s scrutiny—and maybe just a smidge of her own—and she dipped her head into the purple and lilac heather that curled up to her knees and hocks.  Cool beads of morning dew collided with her face, trailing away in the light like shooting stars as she pulled her head back up again.  

So what if she had just happened to stumble across the map as she was removing soiled paper from out of Felicity’s litter tray?  It had a map to a dungeon scrawled on it, and that dungeon was called The Dungeon of Dreams.  How could you call a pony reckless for immediately packing up and setting out to claim such a magical sounding place for her own?

Her family were just jealous.  That’s why they were so quick to dismiss the map and start worrying about her decision to drop out of business school—it wasn’t for her benefit, but so they could steal the map and find the dungeon for themselves.  She loved her family dearly, but they were a mercenary bunch when it came to expanding the Drops empire.

And anyway, despite her own niggling doubts as she had left, hadn’t the map been accurate so far? The Whitehorn Rapids Victim’s Wash-Up Site had been exactly where it was supposed to have been, and so, too, the Swamp of Melancholy Thoughts and Feelings.

And the troll cave had been precisely where it was supposed to have been, even if the map had seriously under-represented its population.

Cherry Berry pulled a canteen and a flask of water from the back of her cart.  She looked briefly between the two before discarding the water and taking a deep draught from the canteen.  “Okay, it’s just... Well, that doesn’t look like any dungeon I’ve ever seen.”

Bon Bon trotted across to her friend and bumped her flank against hers.  “And just how many dungeons have you seen?”

Cherry grinned.  “Hey, I read, and I’ve certainly listened to you babble on about them for long enough.  Dungeons are supposed to be—you know—dark and damp and gloomy, and filled with skeletons and spiders and gross tentacle-y things.”  A shudder rippled across her pink-pelted body, and she took another deep drink from the canteen.  “Don’t get me wrong though, I think I’d prefer the house, even though it looks...”

“Yeah...”  Bon Bon followed Cherry’s gaze and chewed her lip.  Just west of the open field they were standing in stood a beautiful white wooden house.  Or, at least, it had once been beautiful.  Now, the windows were dusty and hidden behind rusted and vine-courted bars, and the open porch stretching the front of it was damp and sparkling from where rain had trickled through the damaged roof.  

It actually looked a little the type of building she’d expect to find in her hometown of Canterbury, only less grand and a lot more... abandoned.  At least, she assumed it had been abandoned—hoped, even.  Thinking about it now though, the idea that it might already be occupied made Bon Bon’s stomach contract sickeningly.  She returned her gaze to the front door, which had been boarded up with moss-covered planks.

“You... You don’t think somepony has already found this place and is living here, do you?”

Cherry’s usually melodious laugh was dry and tight.  “Well if they did I don’t think they were living for long.”  She cast a wary glance around the field as another gust of wind parted the oceans of heather.

“You mean there might be skeletons and ghosts in there?” Bon Bon clopped her hooves together and squealed.  “Oh I hope so, Cherry.  It would make the place feel more like a dungeon, you know?” Her heart fluttered madly in her chest.  “This is so exciting!”

Cherry’s eyes were as wide as saucers.  The young mare snorted and took another sip from her canteen.  “See, this is why we couldn’t share a house.”

Bon Bon smiled wolfishly.  “Too true! Being crushed to death by empty bottles of booze is not how I plan to go out.  I mean, just one week of being out from under your parent’s roof and you’re already hard at it every day.”

Cherry wrapped Bon Bon in a playful headlock.  “What a strange coincidence,” she replied, laughing, “that I happen to start drinking the moment I’m stuck with you for twenty-four hours a day.”  She bumped her head against Bon Bon’s before releasing her.  “So, what’s the plan?”

Bon Bon crinkled her muzzle as she readjusted her glasses.  “Plan?”

“Well it’s going to be your dungeon.  I imagine you don’t want to be just standing outside of it all day long?” Cherry’s eyes turned back to the house, losing their sparkle in the process.  “Though if you asked me, that’s exactly what I would suggest you do.”

“Oh! Yes.  Right!” Bon Bon trotted to her cart and looked over her belongings with a frown on her face.  Somewhere, buried beneath the bags and barrels of flour and milk and sugar, the planks of wood and canvases, and her baking utensils and accessories and personal effects, was her copy of Drops’ Dungeon Almanac.  Contained within its pages was the most comprehensive guide ever produced on establishing yourself in your first dungeon.  Its limited and exclusive publication had helped Drops after Drops over the years, but Bon Bon was feeling far too excited to spend an hour trying to dig it out.  Besides, wasn’t the objective a simple one? Lay claim to your dungeon and make a fortune out of monopolising the demands of would-be adventurers.  And you couldn’t lay claim without first stepping hoof inside.

“Let’s just try the front door first,” she announced instead, setting off across the field at a brisk trot.  “I’m sure we can break down the boards with a good kick or two.”

The house appeared to be displeased by the intrusion, for their approach triggered a sudden procession of creaks and groans which ended with several tiles sliding from the roof and shattering loudly against the scrubby ground.  Cherry Berry whinnied in fright and pressed herself against Bon Bon, her tail slapping a nervous rhythm against her flank.  “Are you absolutely sure about this, Bon? I mean, I’m sure you could find a... um... nicer dungeon somewhere else? Come on to Ponyville with me—there’ll be something there for sure.”

Bon Bon ruffled her friend’s mane.  “It’ll be fine, Cherry,” she replied with a grin.  “There’s absolutely nothing in a dungeon that can hurt a Drops.  It’s the law.”

“And friends of Drops, right?” Cherry gazed up at the sun, the look on her face suggesting that she was making the most of it while she still could.  “Right?”

“Of course!” Bon Bon waved a dismissive hoof as she tried to recall whether that particular law actually existed.  Surely it did though—some merchants were known to take assistants after all, right?

She gave Cherry a wide encouraging smile, but was dismayed at how her friend’s panicked expression worsened.  “Look,” she said, sitting down and taking one of Cherry’s hooves in her own.  “We’ve been friends for how long now? I’m not going to do anything that puts you in danger.  It’s going to be my dungeon, right? Now, I’m really glad that you decided to travel with me, but I honestly don’t mind if you want to carry on to Ponyville today.  I mean, you’ve got your new life waiting for you too.”

The glow that had recently appeared on Cherry’s face increased, and she hastily looked back at her cart.  A shadow briefly crossed her features before being dashed away by a long, bright smile.  “Hey now, what kind of friend would I be if I abandoned my Bonny in her time of need? This place is obviously in need of a lot of work and no doubt you’d be too busy with the... locals to get round to it.  Just—” she inclined her head towards the door “—you go first, okay?”

Despite her earlier words, Bon Bon felt relief spread through her body, and she wrapped her friend in a tight embrace.  “Oh, thank you, thank you thank you!  You’re the absolute best, Cherry.  It’ll be fun—I promise!”

They resumed their approach, but had trotted no further than the wooden steps of the porch when Bon Bon noticed something amongst the wild vegetation encroaching on the path.  She pointed a hoof.  

“Hey, is that a mailbox?”

Cherry wrinkled her muzzle as she tapped the wooden box.  “Yeah, sure looks like it.  Huh, how many dungeons do you think have their own postal code?”

Bon Bon flipped the latch and opened the box.  “None that I’ve ever heard of.  I wonder if—oh, there is, there’s something in here.”

“Is that a leaflet?” Cherry’s eyes were wide and curious as Bon Bon pulled the paper out of the box and held it up.  “Looks like you can’t escape junk mail, even in the middle of nowhere.  What does it say?”

Bon Bon felt her heart start to tremble as she scanned the leaflet, but forced her eyes to repeat the process more slowly, just to be sure.  Then she looked up at her friend and beamed.  “It says ‘Welcome to the Dungeon of Dreams, where you will explore some of the most amazing territory ever seen by mortals.’”

She looked down and read the leaflet a third time and a fourth; she read it until her lungs were straining against her chest and her stomach was turning somersaults.  Then she squealed loudly and grabbed Cherry by the shoulders.  “It is the place, Cherry, it really is!—The Dungeon of Dreams.  Wow, it’s really here, and I’m totally going to make it mine.”

Releasing her friend, Bon Bon skipped up the steps with a song on her lips.  Her body felt strangely reenergised, as though the ambiguity of the house had bothered her more than she had realised.

The wooden boards broke easily under the weight of her kick, and Bon Bon stepped inside with a triumphant whicker.  She took a deep breath of the musty air and surveyed what was soon to become her new home.

Yep, the house definitely looked abandoned.  Motes of thick dust danced like courting fairies in what light had penetrated through the windows and now-open doorway.  The living room in which she was standing was empty except for a large ornate rug covering the floor and an empty trophy cabinet which leaned lazily against a wall.  Roiling shadows pooled around every edge and corner, and a thick heavy silence seemed to suppress and mute every sound.  Despite her excitement, Bon Bon realised that she was noticing the sudden absence of bird and cricket song.

“Have you been killed?” Cherry’s voice cut through the strange atmosphere.  Bon Bon grinned and looked over her shoulder.

“Nope, still got my pretty head on my pretty shoulders,” she replied.  “No skeletons or ‘tentacle-y things’ yet... though if you were hoping for a spider-free house then you might be out of luck.”

“Huh, and here was me thinking that this place made your dreams come true.”  Cherry snickered to herself as she trotted slowly into the house.  She gazed about the room before hesitantly opening the only other door.  “So.  This is... nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Bon Bon couldn’t keep the smile from her face and gleefully tapped her hooves on the exposed floorboards.   “It’s so old and isolated and—oh, it’s just so perfect, Cherry! I can’t believe nopony else found it before us.”  

Her ears twitched then and she paused.  In the distance—perhaps muted even—was that... was that the sound of fast running water?

Cherry peered round the door.  “You honestly sound like you’re about to explode, Bon.  Probably wouldn’t be sensible of me to mention that this place has a working kitchen, eh?”

“Ooh, then it’s even better than perfect!” Bon Bon skipped happily across the rug and hugged her friend.  How lucky could she be? She was going to be able to produce her goods in an actual on-site kitchen, rather than having to make do with a campfire or trekking miles to use one in a nearby village like other Drops.  The place was already starting to live up to its name!

“I guess...” Cherry Berry pushed a hoof through her mane as she looked about the room.  “... But where is it? The actual dungeon, I mean.  Surely this can’t be all there is.”

Bon Bon swished her tail.  “You kidding me? A dungeon this awesome has got to be huge! I bet it’s got the grandest entrance ever seen.  We’ve just got to find it.”  She pushed her glasses further back up her muzzle.  “So where do you think we should start looking?”

A low mournful sound suddenly filled the room, and both ponies jumped in surprise and fright.  Bon Bon recovered first, pulling her gaze this way and that in an attempt to identify the source of the blood-curdling noise.  It might have just been the wind howling beneath the broken panels of the porch, or maybe the tired roof relaxing and resettling itself.  But Bon Bon, despite the hairs of her pelt standing on end, found herself hoping that the sound was from something else—something much worse.

One thing was certain, though.  It had definitely come from beneath them.

Cherry Berry looked across at Bon Bon, her face ashen and her legs trembling.

“Upstairs,” she replied with a watery smile.  “Definitely upstairs.”