Day 2, 9:14 a.m.
The unrelenting heat returned to Ponyville the next day, the streets void of playful fillies and beautiful flowers. If there were ponies outside, they were cooking eggs in pans without an open flame; some with aluminum foils. A cool valley breeze blew on some occasions, but it only provided a brief respite. Yet, smiles filled more ponies’ faces than yesterday—and for good reason. With the water supply finally stable, summer seemed less of Princess Celestia's favorite sentence. Leaflets all over town announced the Mayor’s decision to lift the daily water ban. Everypony was happy. The end.
Just kidding. Not one pony was smiling, not even Twilight.
“You gotta be kidding me!” she cried upon realizing that the tap still refused to give water. “What happened to the water?”
Spike didn’t seem to care, given that he always had something in his throat hotter than thirst. “Whoa,” he said. “Everypony must be really thirsty today.”
“Ponyville received an ocean’s worth yesterday,” said a flustered Twilight. “I mean, this tap ran just fine last night.”
Spike calmly put forth his suggestion to their water woes. “We really need to have our own tank.”
“Something’s definitely up,” Twilight said, wearing her signature face of suspicion. “Even if you leave all the taps in Ponyville open, it’ll take more than a night to use up all the water. I smell a water thief.”
For reasons even Celestia’s wisdom can’t comprehend, Spike smelled his armpits. “I don’t know,” he said. “The only smell I pick up is this dragon not getting his bubble bath.”
Twilight headed for the front door to get some answers but not before issuing her number one assistant instructions. “I’m going to the water tower,” she said. “You stay here and see if there’s a broken pipe somewhere.”
“Are you serious? You’re putting me on plumbing duty?”
“This problem ain’t gonna fix itself, you know.”
Just like that, Twilight ran off into no-mare’s land; the heat bearing down with the weight of the entire world. Glare pierced her eyes faster than a magic ray, preventing her from looking far and wide. Just a few minutes into the frying pan, she could feel sweat racing for the ground, probably wanting to escape the heat, too. The “weight of the world” had also begun to take its toll on her strength. The road to the water tower, shrouded in the same wavy horizon trick as yesterday, appeared to have a few more yards of road on it. Whether or not she wasn’t notified of a recent road project, the seemingly-long road took Twilight for a tiring walk. She felt like turning back and going to bed way too early, but the desire for water fueled her waning determination.
The scenario at the base at the water tower almost reflected that of yesterday, except the Mayor found herself under serious flak from enraged citizens. From a distance, Twilight felt the bad vibes coming from the group of citizens who felt they were fed with lies. With the Mayor clearly in trouble, Twilight hurried to end the melee of words. No amount of lost energy kept her down.
“Everypony, stand down,” she said, quickly cutting in between the Mayor and the angry mini-mob. “Arguing won’t solve our water problem. We promise to get to the bottom of this. For now, go back to your homes.”
This came from a pony who had more than proved her weight in gems. Twilight got them through worse odds; why lose faith in her now? A cool bucket of trust doused the fiery anger inside everypony in the group. It didn’t take long before everypony chilled out and dispersed. Save for one.
“I refuse to go anywhere without an amicable solution,” Rarity said, exasperated.
“Rarity?” replied Twilight in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
The fashionista’s story sounded like a sorry excuse for fiction. “I had just been turned down by a very important client because I couldn’t wash the ensemble I made for him,” she cried in desperation. "That's what!"
“What?” replied Twilight in even more disbelief. “Are you sure it’s not just you being silly.”
At this time, “silly” didn't sound good to Rarity, even when it rhymed. “I beg your pardon,” she replied with indignation. “He was from Manehattan. Manehattan! Do you realize ponies in the big city demand nothing less than perfection?”
“Rarity, calm down; we’ll get to the bottom of this. You have my word.”
For the record, Twilight has never seen Rarity fuming like an open steam valve before. That very important client must be worth life and limb to impress. Despite her reservations, Rarity simply looked away and left the scene. After seeing her leave, Twilight turned to the Mayor for answers.
“What’s going on, Mayor?" Twilight asked. "What happened to all the water?”
“I’m just as baffled, Twilight,” the Mayor replied calmly. “Clearly, this is an act of theft, but we don’t have a lead at the moment. Do you have an idea who could’ve done this?”
“I’m sorry, Mayor,” Twilight said. “I don’t. But I know we have to solve this mystery as soon as possible.”
“Indeed,” the Mayor agreed. “If we don’t act soon, I fear we’ll be facing a much larger crowd of angry ponies later. Can I leave the investigation to you?”
“Of course, Mayor.”
“I must take my leave and declare a state of emergency across Ponyville.”
As the Mayor left, the term “state of emergency” slowly sank deep inside Twilight’s head. The definition is complicated on paper, but even a filly knows the term means no good. The only time Ponyville entered in such a state was…well, never. Ponyville had a reputation for managing resources well, but this crisis practically stained it. As much as Twilight disliked the Mayor’s plan, it was a small price to pay.
Twilight’s investigation began with a look at the five-story water tower, a lofty structure of four wooden pillars and a steel tank on a platform. Yet, for a tank that has kept every tap in Ponyville running since the town's foundation, it lacks a way down. “Now that I’ve taken a closer look,” she said. “How does the water come down?”
With no ladders leading up to the tank, Twilight transported herself in a blink of an eye with magic to the edge of the platform . Despite the vertigo-inducing view from roughly 50 feet, she managed to hold her own and stay focused on keeping her balance along a space that could barely hold all four hooves. Halfway around the tank, she saw a garden hose and spigot bolted onto the tank. Maybe this is how ponies get their water, albeit crude and time-consuming.
While appearing inconspicuous, no item could escape Twilight’s keen eye for detail. “This tap looks like it was recently installed,” she said, attesting to the spigot’s cleanliness. “On top of that, this garden hose looks also new.”
It’s likely this was also how the thieves stole the water under the cover of darkness. But her keen eye for detail revealed pieces of the puzzle that didn’t fit. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “There’s no way you can drain all of the tank’s contents with just a hose and tap, let alone pull it off before dawn. Maybe I’m looking at the wrong clues.”
Twilight needed to go deeper; she went inside the tank the same way she came to the top. Inside was a claustrophobe’s worst nightmare. The darkness stretched across a wide expanse despite the tank being no bigger than a house. Fortunately, unicorns come with nifty advantages like a horn light. A purple glow filled the empty tank, shedding light on the rivets and steel planks lining the walls. A few puddles of water littered the tank floor. She walked around the tank, lighting every nook and cranny, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Did Twilight hit a dead end early in the mystery?
"Just an ordinary tank, I suppose," Twilight remarked, trotting around the tank so carelessly that she got her hoof caught in an unseen depression all of a sudden. "Whoa!"
As she removed her hoof, an inch-wide hole appeared in its place. This must be the downspout she was looking for. “This must connect the tank to every building in Ponyville,” she deduced. “But why couldn't I see this outside? If I can follow this pipe, I may find my answers, perhaps a pipe that shouldn’t be there.”
Twilight has the right spell for this job; she has the right spell for almost everything. “I can shrink myself and explore the pipes, provided that I don’t get lost,” she said. “But I should ask the Mayor for a layout of Ponyville’s plumbing first.”
Shrinking to the size of a pea and exploring the unknown depths of Ponyville’s water network? Clearly, this has “danger” written all over it. If Twilight was to have any hope of at least getting a lead, she was going to need outside help.
Day 2, 11:38 a.m.
“Um, can we go over the plan one more time?” Spike said, utterly confused about his reason for being taken off plumbing duty.
Twilight responded with a hopeless sigh and said: “Okay, listen up. I’ll cast a spell to shrink myself and get inside Ponyville’s water network. Whoever or whatever’s stealing all the water must have a pipe installed to divert water to their lair.”
“And where exactly do I come in?”
“Take this,” Twilight said, handing a small handheld screen over to Spike.
“You want me to play video games while you work?” Spike jested.
“No!” cried Twilight. “This device reads my magic signature within a short range. Take it with you and follow me as I explore the underground network. I need you to tell me where I am in Ponyville as I go and, in case of an emergency, bail me out.”
Spike protested the whole plan out of concern for Twilight’s safety. “You can’t be serious, Twilight,” he said. “You don’t even know what’s down there. You can get hurt by a falling chunk of dirt or something.”
“Right now, this is the only shot we have in solving this mystery,” Twilight said calmly. “Digging up the pipes would simply take too long, not to mention putting them back. Time isn’t exactly on our side.”
The dragon suggested a safer, superficial alternative. "Don't you have some sort of see-through spell?"
"See-through spells are illegal, Spike," Twilight explained. "Did you even read that book I gave you about banned magic?"
"Uhh...maybe?"
"Don't worry, Spike. I'll be fine. It's not like there are rats inside our water."
Still concerned about Twilight’s safety, Spike reluctantly yielded: “Okay, Twilight,” he said. “Just be careful.”
Halfway to high noon, Operation: Tiny Twilight kicked off. Twilight transported herself back to the claustrophobic tank, while Spike glued his eyes on the blinking purple dot on the panel. Inside the tank, Twilight wasted no time casting the shrinking spell on herself, enveloping her in a bright purple aura. The spell made quick work of her size, shrinking her enough to fit into the hole easily.
She looked at the abyss from the edge of the pipe while weighing her options. As much as she wanted to believe that other, less perilous options exist, she couldn’t think of any. “I wish there was another way of doing this,” said Twilight, swallowing her anxiety. “Here goes.”
Before second thoughts could stop her from doing what must be done, Twilight jumped into the outgoing pipe. The glow of her horn, the only speck of light in the darkness, vanished as the fear of free fall five stories high gripped her mind. First mistake of the day: she failed to take into account the long drop. In the dark, falling from the height of two-and-a-half houses stacked on each other, and screaming for her life, can this get any worse? With the bottom of the pipe pitch black, it just did.
Spike’s quick thinking may have just saved her from cuts and bruises. “Twilight!” he yelled. “You’re gonna hit the ground hard in seconds! Do something!”
Not a second too soon, Twilight’s horn glowed with the lifesaver known as a levitation spell. The glow wrapped her whole body and drastically slowed her descent. As she let out a sigh of relief and touched down gently, the glow shed light on the base of the pipe. She realized how close she came to spending weeks in the hospital. On the not-so-bright side, danger wasn’t done rearing its ugly heads yet.
“Spike, can you hear me?” Twilight called out to the outside world.
Spike was doing the same thing. “Twilight?” he cried. “Are you okay? The tracker says you’re not moving.”
“Spike! Spiiiike!” Twilight raised her tone to the extreme; but to Spike, she may as well be a microbe playing the bongos. Not long after her first flop, she realized her second mistake: failure to keep a two-way line. She could hear Spike but not the other way around, a serious handicap in the expedition to come.
“Twilight?” Spike called out. “I’m gonna assume you’re still okay. If you are, can you give me a sign? Moving, perhaps?”
Twilight saw no reason to turn back now; she was already inside. She began her journey into the unknown and unseen, a journey into one of Ponyville’s sources of life. For the next several minutes, she would place her hopes on two things: Spike and the schematics she received from the Mayor earlier. The mystic glow of her horn lit the way. Spike followed her from the surface, his eyes shifting between the ground and the device.
For now, no clear, present danger posed a threat to Twilight; but the sight of old pipes gave enough reason to feel uneasy. Her sight shifted between the map and terrain, staying alert for any pipe not in the schematics. A thin layer of water lined the pipes; every step she took made splashing sounds only audible inside the network. On a different note, Twilight, at some instances, couldn’t help but marvel at the scars and blemishes of time littered along the pipes’ walls. While there was no telling their exact age, Twilight could safely say: “These pipes have been keeping Ponyville alive for decades. It’s amazing to see them up close.”
Their first stop took the duo to the town proper. Spike noticed the purple dot in the panel had stopped in an all too-familiar place. “Twilight,” he reported. “You’re at Sugarcube Corner.”
The dot instantly moved away from the establishment, prompting Spike to follow. A few minutes later, they stopped at another familiar location. “This is the spa,” said Spike.
The search took them to several places such as Carousel Boutique, Quills and Sofas, the marketplace, Rose’s house, and even the library. Fifteen minutes later, they felt like they had covered all of Ponyville. Fifteen minutes later, no leads.
“Ugh, this is getting frustrating,” Twilight complained. “Celestia, please give me a sign.”
Interesting enough, she did see a sign but not from the princess; a gleaming wall of brand new piping. The relatively new connection stretched as far as the rest of the pipes. Twilight referred to her layout; no connections should exist in this area. But her location revealed a far more intriguing point of view. “This is going outside Ponyville,” Spike said. “To Fluttershy’s place.”
“Fluttershy’s place?” Twilight replied. “She has an entire river close to her place. Why would she need water from Ponyville?”
“You seriously don’t think Fluttershy has something to do with all this, do you?”
“I’d like to think so, too, Spike. I really do.”
Twilight couldn’t help but feel uneasy listing one of her best friends as a suspect, but she pressed on with the investigation. Nopony is above the law, after all; not even her friends. She entered the newly-installed pipe, a straightforward route to the end. Spike followed faithfully.
There’s little reason to believe this line is part of the original network. Its walls and rivets were clean, as if it was installed recently. More importantly, the pipe contained slightly more water than the pipes Twilight explored earlier, more than enough to implicate the subject at the end of this pipe. Hope sparked anew for the young investigator.
Halfway into the new pipe, Twilight suddenly stopped walking. Despite not eating breakfast, she felt heavier for some reason. Perhaps it’s just the eerie air inside the pipe. Plumbing, after all, isn’t exactly known for pleasantries. She shrugged it off and moved on, only for the bloated sensation to return shortly with a more profound effect. Every step she took felt like getting her hooves caught in an unseen patch of quicksand. This time, Twilight had every reason to start running like the wind.
On the surface, Spike noticed the purple dot gaining speed, although he managed to keep up. “Twilight, what’s wrong?” Spike said. “Why are you moving faster?”
“Bloated sensation? That’s not good,” Twilight said, sprinting toward the light at the edge of the tunnel at full speed. “Not good! Not good at all!”
Despite her best efforts, Twilight was still nowhere near the end. It seemed like an endless trail of obscurity ahead and behind her. There was no clear and present danger; it was already inside her. The bloating feeling marked the last few minutes of the shrinking spell, a good 20 minutes of being small as a pea was about to end. In a matter of minutes, one unlucky segment of the mysterious pipeline will shape itself into the image and likeness of Ponyville’s resident investigator. “Nonononononononono!” she cried frantically. “Not now! Not now!”
Day 2, 11:58 a.m.
Not even the hottest summer in pony history could stop Fluttershy from tending to her fishy friends in a small pond not far from her cottage. Humming her favorite tune, she sprinkled some fish food for her friends to feast on. The pond may also as well be one of the last remaining bodies of water within a hundred miles of Ponyville. Unlike the reservoirs, the pond bristled with fish, frogs, and vegetation; a far cry from the dry waterbeds.
Then, from out of nowhere, the sound of mangled metal behind her drew her attention. She turned around to see the steel figure of a unicorn, every detail copied to the last contour. Curiosity kicked in. Where did this accurate steel statue of Twilight Sparkle come from? For that matter, why didn’t she notice it before? Whoever made it must admire her so much for keeping the peace. But Fluttershy knows too well that statues, rock or steel, don’t groan in pain. When it did, she did the most practical thing to do: scream like a scared filly and hide in the pond.
Twilight transported herself out of the steel mold, dazed and messy, while Fluttershy partially emerged from the pond. Spike arrived just in time to see the first interrogation of the entire series unfold.
“Fluttershy,” Twilight said. “We need to talk.”