A lot could change in the span of sixteen years, and Ponyville seemed like a testament to that fact—one of many testaments spread across the war-ravaged land of Equestria. What had once been a relatively small and arguably peaceful podunk village south of the old Equestria capital city of Canterlot had effectively become the new capital city—a city which now went by several different names depending on who you asked. Nowadays, there were two types of citizens who lived in what was now Equestria's largest agricultural city.

Those who moved to the town from Canterlot during and after the war for various reasons—mostly refugees, workers, and those desperate creatures who felt they couldn't or wouldn't survive what the old capital had become—had taken to calling it New Canterlot despite the town having none of the splendor of the old Canterlot. These days the 'new blood' outweighed the other type of citizen living in the city—that is, those who'd lived in Ponyville before the war and either never left in the first place or returned after the war from wherever they'd moved or been stationed at during the war. Though it was where they were born and raised and while it was still the little rural farming village they knew and loved at its core, not even the 'natives' could bring themselves to call the town Ponyville anymore—the town had simply changed too much.

Officially, after the fall of the old Canterlot, Equestria's seat of power had moved to the second-largest city in the kingdom and though the general populace refused to acknowledge the fact, Manehattan had become the real 'New Canterlot' and what was once Ponyville had been renamed Pone City. The natives, however, simply referred to the town as Appleville in honor of a certain foolish pony whose actions during the war had prevented things from being much worse than they could've been for the then-struggling town. With the town's growth from a small countryside village into a full-fledged city, the move from old fashioned farming to urban agriculture was a swift one; economically speaking, there were no issues these days. The few factories built to mass-produce the more common consumable goods across Equestria and beyond provided enough jobs to keep most creatures living in the city off the streets, so finding work wasn't too much of an issue either.

Overall, things had gotten much better since the war, and some of the newer citizens even considered the town a paradise compared to some of the other places they'd lived before. Still, whether one was new blood or a native, the general mood in the city was vaguely melancholic, and it had been for several years now. Though life had finally stabilized for most creatures living in Pone City, there weren't very many who were happy to live under the ever-watchful eye of Sombra and Equestria's own Traitor Princess. To those who couldn't let go of past resentments and regrets, the imposing industrial structures that occasionally belted white smoke from their filtered smokestacks and the switch from thatch and wood to brick and mortar were both constant reminders of everything they'd lost over sixteen years ago.

The quality of life in New Pone City had certainly improved from what it had been; there was no denying that the village-turned-city was even more prosperous than it had been before the war. The problem was that in most of the larger cities across Equestria including Pone City, the hooves of the Crystal Empire could be felt far too keenly for anypony to relax completely. The ones who'd lost the war could see signs of Sombra's reign clearly in the armored crystal pony soldiers that patrolled the streets. Long gone were the bulky slave helmets used in the war, the hideous things now replaced by magical brain implants that not only made one absolutely loyal to Sombra and Sombra only but increased physical strength and allowed for the limited use of dark magic to attack and restrain in non-magic wielding races like the crystal ponies.

In his borderline obsessive quest to build perfect soldiers with absolute power and loyalty, Sombra had embraced the use of both magic and technology to further his aims. These horrific super-soldiers had been created near the end of the war through means unknown to most of the world. It wasn't a stretch to say that they were the deciding factor in the Crystal Empire's victory. Now they roamed the Crystal Empire and the many cities of Equestria watching for any rioters and rebels with blank faces devoid of mercy and piercing eyes that burned liked bright green coals, and that was just the Crystal Empire. Sombra's pact with the Griffonian Empire brought its own batch of troubles to the downtrodden citizens of Equestria and some of the other countries surrounding it.

Honestly, thinking about those kinds of issues was enough to drive a creature to drink, and in Pone City, there was no better place to do just that than the Sour Apple—at least in Silver Crescent's opinion.

There were a few pubs and taverns in the city, most of them downtown, but the Sour Apple was in the northernmost part of the city. If you were to arrive in town by train it would've been one of the first establishments you'd see after leaving the train station. Furthermore, it was likely the first genuine smile and kind word you'd see and hear would've been from the mare mixing drinks behind the bar. In Silver's opinion, the hard cider was fairly subpar—not that he had discerning taste given he wasn't a fan of cider in the first place—but that's not why the thestral stallion spent almost every evening drinking at the Sour Apple. No, it wasn't the cider or any of the other beverages that drew him, but rather it was the atmosphere and the sense of safety he felt within the tavern's walls—specifically safety from suspicious or hostile stares.

Before the war with the Crystal Empire, there wasn't a single pony in Equestria who didn't revere Princess Celestia to some degree, but thestrals were different. They may have been accepted in the pony race as their own tribe just like pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns, but their much smaller population and the fact that they were largely nocturnal predators set them apart from the tribes—some ponies thought too far apart. On top of that, and unlike many of their diurnal counterparts, a thestral's true loyalty lay not with the Solar Princess, but the Princess of the Night. Being largely nocturnal, it was only natural, and naturally, many thestrals chose to side with Luna when she betrayed her sister and her country over one thousand years ago. Now history had repeated itself and just as they had so long ago, many of the thestrals had turned against Celestia in favor of who they believed was their true ruler.

Yes, many thestrals had turned traitor along with their Lunar Princess, but not all of them.

Silver Crescent was one such thestral, not that it mattered much to most of the ponies around him. He could explain that he'd never even considered turning on Equestria until he was blue in the face, but these days that wasn't enough. Ponies were bitter and angry and needed to vent their frustrations somehow and he couldn't blame a single one of them. The stallion understood where they were coming from so much it hurt, and while he'd gotten used to the unpleasant treatment, it was still unpleasant at the end of the day. That's why he came to the Sour Apple almost every chance he could get; despite the name, the pub was essentially a safe space for outcasts and those whom society had deemed degenerates at a mere glance. It was a place with an unspoken rule against any kind of discrimination from or against any creature that walked through its doors.

It was a rule enforced by one of the toughest mares Silver Crescent had ever met, and he'd met a lot of them over the years. It also helped that the mare behind the bar—the mare smiling as if all was right with the world—was the daughter of that brute. No creature who didn't want to leave the pub whimpering with a limp they didn't have when they came in would cause trouble while the barmaid was watching, and for all her kindness and her gentle nature, she was always watching. The barmaid was a pegasus who at her age would just barely pass as a mare by Silver's standards. She went by the name of Tabula Rasa—a name that always brought a wry smile to Silver's face when he thought about what it meant. Even now he couldn't help but crack a small smile as he sat at the bar, staring into the less-than-ideal beverage that was his frothy mug of hard cider.

"Bit for your thoughts?"

At the soft-spoken question, Sliver raised his cold grey eyes from the untouched mug to the mare watching him with a smile equal parts gentle and curious. Tabula Rasa wasn't exactly a bewitching beauty, but she certainly had a youthful charm about her nonetheless. The mess of icy blue curls that made up her mane and her wide and strikingly scarlet eyes combined with her light pink coat and smallish stature never failed to give Silver Crescent the impression that he was talking to a foal. It was especially disconcerting because her bubbly, foalish appearance didn't at all match the calm and collected way she carried herself. She may have looked like a foal, but to anypony paying even the slightest bit of attention, it was clear that wasn't the case.

Frankly, Silver Crescent didn't trust her.

He never outwardly showed it, but something about the mare rubbed him the wrong way. He was a stallion that prided himself on seeing through to a pony's true character at a glance, and he didn't know what to make of this pony. Her peaceable and understanding words and expressions were genuine—of that, he had no doubt—but when he looked into those scarlet eyes, the thestral could see that there was something else hidden just beneath the surface, something that made him shiver slightly when they first met. In a way, Silver Crescent had to wonder—and often did whenever they talked—if she was just like all the other patrons in the Sour Apple. He'd asked her something to that effect once, if she had her own story to tell, but all he received, in turn, was a kindly smile and a smooth subject change.

And then there was that name...

"Ah, it's nothing really," Silver replied with a small chuckle and a shake of his head, "just wishing I'd ordered some brandy instead."

"You say that, but you never order anything else," Tabula replied coolly. She turned away to focus on the dark stain she was attempting to rub out of the thick wooden counter between them with a wet cloth, "it's obvious you like hard cider more than you let on. I don't know why you won't just admit it."

"...Yeah, I guess you could say I've acquired a taste for it," the stallion conceded, "I'd still prefer brandy anywhere else though, or maybe some of that lemon vodka they serve at the Hanging Mare in Hoofington."

"Well, to each their own I suppose," the mare said after a small pause and a shrug, "you probably won't find better cider anywhere else, hard or otherwise."

"Since I'm not really a connoisseur of the stuff I can't say one way or the other so I'll take your word for it," Silver Crescent answered. He raised his mug in acknowledgment before taking a sip. After a moment he set it back down and cast a quick glance around the bar, "so is Berry around tonight?"

"Mom isn't here tonight, no," Tabula answered with a small frown, her eyes still on the counter and the stubborn stain, "she doesn't usually come in on rainy nights like this. Says it makes her bones ache and that makes it harder to work or something. She stayed home and left Hard Tack in charge."

"Hard Tack, huh?"

Silver scanned the pub until he found the stallion he was looking for. It didn't take very long to spot the bulky brown earth pony in question sitting at a small table by the entrance. Silver Crescent didn't know what Hard Tack's relationship with Berry Punch was, but the stallion often acted as a stand-in whenever the mare couldn't or wouldn't come in. He didn't have a head for management, but that was fine. Tabula Rasa could fill in the role of actually running the pub just fine even as young as she was; Hard Tack was simply a deterrent for anypony who got a bit too rowdy.

His imposing physique, bald and battle-scarred face, and permafrown were all enough to make any rabble-rouser think twice. That said, the stallion acted more like a patron than a bouncer. Even now he'd made himself comfortable at his own little table with a mug in hoof. His posture was laid back and his guard looked loose, but his mean cobalt blue eyes were sharp and Silver Crescent could tell he was ready to leap into action at moment's notice. Compared to Hard Tack, Silver Crescent himself wasn't much to look at. In fact, Silver Crescent was completely average looking even by thestral standards. His coat was a uniform grey and his rather wild mane and tail were a deep blue. He'd built his body with speed in mind, but that was the norm for a thestral and really any sapient creature with wings. Still, his plain appearance didn't bother him too much and honestly he preferred it that way. It helped immensely with his particular line of work.

"By the way," came Tabula Rasa's voice, "are you waiting for anypony?"

Silver turned to see the barmaid giving him a curious stare. He frowned a raised an eyebrow at her.

"What makes you think that?" he asked somewhat warily.

"You've been glancing around the bar every now and then ever since you walked in," she answered as if it were an obvious fact, "and I'm not the only one who noticed. You're starting to attract some attention. The bad kind of attention."

She gestured behind the thestral and he turned to follow her gaze. Sure enough, he could see two stallions at one table and a zebra mare at another all giving him suspicious looks. He grimaced at the sight, sighed in resignation, and turned to face Tabula Rasa again.

"Yeah, you got me," he admitted, "well, it's not like I was trying to hide it, but... yeah. An old friend was supposed to catch the last train from the Old Capital. Told her to meet me at the Sour Apple when she got here, but she's late and I'm kinda worried."

"Ah, yeah I guess that makes sense," Tabula said with a sympathetic smile, "if she's coming from the Old Capital I don't blame you. Frankly, I'm still surprised the transit system in that Tartarus forsaken place is still running."

"You and me both," Silver muttered before taking another more liberal swig of his cider, "...but it's not the thugs and bandits that worry me; my friend can take care of herself, believe me," he shook his head and returned his somber gaze to the mug he'd put back down on the bar, "no, there are worse things out there than that. Much worse."

A brief silence followed the quiet statement, both ponies at the bar reflecting on just how true those words were. The Equestrian wilderness had become a dangerous place full of all kinds of horrors lurking just off the beaten path. Just traveling the well-worn roads between towns, one was liable to lose their life if they weren't careful. Riding the train or traveling by airship wasn't even a guarantee of safety in some regions of the country. Needless to say, traveling at night was far from advisable and traveling alone at night was considered the height of insanity.

And yet...

"That crazy mare went ahead and decided to go off on her own anyway," Silver grumbled, "if she keeps disregarding her own safety like that it's gonna come back to bite her in the flank..."

"Soooo... this friend of yours..." Tabula began leaning on the bar and eyeing Silver with a smirk the thestral didn't like one bit, "she's the oblivious type, huh?"

"It's not like that," Silver replied with an exasperated groan, "she's well aware of the danger, she just... forgets that she's a lot more vulnerable than she used to be is all. She's a strong mare don't get me wrong, but she's not nearly as strong as she thinks she is... not anymore anyway."

"Sounds like a real hoofful."

"You can't even imagine..."

"So how long have you two been together?"

Silver Crescent shot the mare a look, to which Tabula Rasa shrugged and smiled back.

"Okay so it's not like that either then," she surmised, "relax, I already figured that was the case. So what's her name? Anypony I'd know? Oh?"

At that moment the wooden double doors that made up the entrance were pushed open, catching the attention of both the thestral and barmaid as well as a few others around the pub. Standing in the entrance was a pony, their slightly ratty dark brown cloak dripping wet from the rain outside and most of their features hidden by the hood pulled tight around their face. For a few seconds, no one said a word as the pony looked around the interior. In the dim light of the pub, Silver Crescent could see a few hints of the pony's feminine visage. A slender white muzzle adorned with a wary frown, a sliver of pink mane with a white horn poking out from underneath, and the dull hue of magenta in the pony's narrowed eyes was enough to tell the stallion the newcomer was exactly the mare he'd been waiting all this time for.

It wasn't long before their eyes met and Silver could see the cloaked mare's wary frown soften into a small relieved smile. The stallion gave a relieved sigh of his own as he watched the mare deftly make her way over to where he was. Out of his periphery, Silver could see Hard Tack eyeballing the mare with a cautious grimace, but he didn't say anything or make any sudden moves, nor did the mare pay him any mind as she passed. He didn't know what Hard Tack's problem was, but Silver was thankful it was nothing more than that.

"Looks like I'll get a chance to ask her myself, huh?" Tabula Rasa whispered to the thestral across from her with that same unpleasant smirk.

Silver Crescent ignored her in favor of the other mare who'd just reached the bar. With a weary sounding sigh, she sat down on the stool next to Silver and pulled back her hood, revealing a brilliant cascade of bright pink hair that spilled somewhat wetly across one side of her face. Even with the light bags beneath her soft eyes and a mane partially wet from the rain, the mare now sitting next to Silver Crescent could be called nothing less than stunning. Unlike Tabula Rasa with her youthful charm and foalish appearance, this mare was the very definition of a mature beauty. Her snow-white coat and svelte figure were far more appealing to Silver than the filly-like mare wearing that teasing smirk.

"Sorry I'm late, Silver," the mare said, giving her best apologetic smile to the stallion, "I got caught up in an... incident on the way here. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?"

"Longer than I would've liked I admit," Silver replied with a concerned frown, "but nevermind that, what's this 'incident' you got caught up in? Did it have to do with the—"

"We can talk about such things a little later," the mare interjected with a pleasant smile that brooked no further discussion on the matter. Silver Crescent opened his mouth to say something else, but decided against it and shut it again. With that, the mare nodded in satisfaction and turned to the grinning barmaid, "besides, it's been quite a rough journey and I'm rather parched. What would you recommend, Miss..."

"Rasa," Tabula finished with a friendly chuckle, "Tabula Rasa or just Tabula is fine, and if you're as worn out as you look, I'd recommend a Crimson Stallion to start with."

Tabula Rasa's smile fell into a slight frown of concern as she waited for the mare to respond. The mare for her part merely stared back at the pegasus with a look Silver couldn't quite place. The two shared a confused glance before looking back to the quiet mare.

"Um... are you okay, Miss?" Tabula asked carefully, "I know I'm a bit on the shorter side, but it's rude to stare, y'know?"

The mare blinked.

"Hm? Oh! I'm so sorry!" she replied looking flustered, "I was... lost in thought. Please pay it no mind. And yes, a Crimson Stallion sounds just fine, thank you," she collected herself after a second and her soft smile returned as she addressed the other mare, "and my name is Cloudy Dawn. It's a pleasure to meet you, Tabula Rasa."