The Elder Scrolls: Equestria

Chapter Six

The Inn of the Grounded Pegasus

“. . . And you are?”

~Aurora~

Thud.

The body of an unconscious stallion flopped onto the floor unceremoniously, a slow drizzle of drool flowing down his chin and onto the floorboards.  A pewter tankard clanged next to him, one of many, the remaining dark brown liquid sloshing against and staining the colt’s mane.  The bartender grumbled and poked at the stallion with the blunt end of a broom.  She came to the conclusion he wasn’t going to wake, and collected her mug off the floor.

A pitch black pegasus mare gulped down the rest of her own beverage, and slammed the mug onto the countertop in victory.  The conglomeration of mares, stallions, and even a few deer who had come to watch groaned and swore as they begrudgingly hoofed over their money to the pitch mare, who separated out some of the gold to pay the more jubilant winners, and tossed a few coins towards the bartender.

“Sorry about the mess,” said Aurora, as she counted out her earnings.  The mare behind the counter eyed the gold bits, and the tankards precariously piled next to them.

“Don’t forget you still have to pay for the drinks,” the mare nickered.  Aurora curtly tossed several more bits her way.  The mare just stared at them, and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the passed out stallion.  “You can’t be serious!” Aurora balked.  “He can pay his own tab.”

The mare huffed.  “Well, I don’t see him paying me anytime soon, and I’d rather see bits in my purse than a promise.”

Aurora snorted.  “Horseapples!” she spat, causing the mare to wrinkle her nose.  “I’m not paying you for his stupidity.  Take it out of him when he wakes up.”

“That’s the local drunk,” she said, nodding her head to the stallion, who just started snoring.  “He doesn’t have enough money to pay his rent here.  He certainly doesn’t have enough to pay for his drinks.”

“Then why do you expect me to take care of his problem?” Aurora scoffed.

“Because, he conned you into buying his drinks for him.  It’s what he does,” she replied matter-of-factly.  She held out a hoof.  “Now, cough up the bits, or I get the guard involved.”  She glanced over to the mare who just walked into the pub; a pegasus mare dressed in thick, steel armor.  Damn, Aurora mentally swore when she saw the coat of arms painted over the pegasus mare’s cutie mark.  She quickly turned around, bowing her head slightly as she tossed over most of her earnings.

“There, was that so hard?” the bartender said snidely, hoofing the gold behind the counter.  “And you even have some spending money left over, how nice!”

Aurora gave no thought to the mare’s remarks as she hurried out of the pub, taking care not to be seen by the armored pegasus.  She darted her eyes across the town, searching to see if any other ponies wore the same coat of arms.  The pouring rain made it hard to see, but she spotted only two other pegasi who bore the mark, both at separate stalls bartering for equipment or repairs.  Aurora stiffly cantered past them, not stopping until the pub and the armored pegasi were out of sight.

She found her reprieve in a darkened alley, the eves of the buildings filtering out most of the rain.  How had they found her?  Was it mere coincidence, a wing of legionnaires showing up in the same town as herself?  They could have been at the stalls questioning the locals, but how had they known?  It drove her insane to think they could have possibly tracked her here; hay, even she hadn’t planned on stopping in Nimbustall, it was a complete accident.  Besides, she had nothing to worry about.  They wouldn’t be able to recognize her, it had been too many years.  But if they did find her... she had no means of fighting, besides hoof and teeth.  Even with her bow, she couldn’t stand a chance.  Not against three.

“Aurora?”

 The mare yelped, jumping out of her skin.  She quickly turned around to face the darkness, from whence came the voice.  She prepared for the wing of legionnaires to come barreling out of the shadows weapons drawn and fury burning in their eyes.  She bared her teeth and growled as something moved in the darkness.  If they were indeed the legionnaires, then she would fight them tooth and hoof!  Sun and Moon be damned if she let herself be taken away!

“Damn, Aurora!” audibly flinched the voice, a voice Aurora was quickly recognizing.  “Calm down, it’s just me!” Aurora perked up with both confusion and relief.  A lanky pegasus cautiously trotted out of the shadows, eyes wide with fear as he eyed the mare before him.  Aurora took in his moss colored hide and his violet mane, and more importantly the two gold coins on his flank.

“Lighthooves?” she asked.  “Why the hay are you here?”

“A fencing operation, and I’m runnin’ few shill jobs on the side,” he answered conversationally.  He gave the mare a puzzled look.  “I thought you were on a job?”

Light illuminated the alley, throwing Lighthooves and Aurora into sharp relief as thunder roared overhead.  “Luna’s fury!” the stallion swore as his eyes descended upon her rear.  “What happened to you?”

“Bear,” Aurora answered.

“A consequence of one of his ‘jobs’?” Lighthooves asked tensely, glaring at the drying blood.

“Not directly; I was attacked on the way back,” she clarified.

“Damn.”  He bit his lip, looking as if he was trying to decide between slowly gouging out his left eye, or ripping out the teeth in his bottom jaw.  Aurora just stared at him with a raised brow, not entirely sure how to respond to her acquaintance’s expression.  She was torn between worry that something might be wrong with him, and bursting into laughter.

After a moment of deep, dichotomous thought, Lighthooves gestured to the shadows behind him, sighing in apparent defeat.  “Need anythin’?”

She rubbed her chin, contemplating for a moment before shugging.  “Got any health potions?”

“Um....”  Lighthooves glanced over his shoulder, where Aurora presumed his cache was hidden.  “Nope.  Haven’t had a chance to acquire any yet, though I plan to hit the town alchemist tonight.  Do, uh ––” the stallion grimaced “–– Do you want some stuff to sell?  I might have a spare bow or somethin’.”  The words almost looked painful coming out of his mouth.

Aurora shook her head.  She was certain that Lighthooves was authentic in his offer, but in any other circumstance the offer would have been a courtesy at best –– members of their guild weren’t known for their generosity, even towards each other.  She noticed that the stallion looked relieved at her answer.

A flash of light preluded a booming thunder that tore apart the sky.  Both pegasi turned to the clouds visible from the split between roofs.

“That was very close,” said the stallion. “Too close for my taste.”

Aurora nodded absentmindedly.  She groaned as she felt a wave of legarthy roll over her.  She slowly laid herself on the ground, squeezing her eyes shut and massaging her temple.  A moment later it passed.

“You alright there, Aurora?”

The mare shook her head.  “Just tired, is all.  Any inns nearby?  Other than the one across the marketplace?” she amended.  It wasn’t that she had a problem with the barmaid (although there were several unkind things she would like to do to the mare, involving a quiver of arrows and a rather sensitive spot between the hindquarters), it was more to do with the legionaries that were most likely consuming copious amounts of liquor while awaiting the storm to pass.  The farther she was from them, the less paranoid she would be.

The stallion put a moss-colored hoof to his chin, staring at a clay wall bordered by logs and wood planks.  “Well,” he began slowly.  “I haven’t been here but for a few days, so I don’t have the layout consigned to memory just yet.”

Aurora sighed and hung her head.  “It’s just as well.  I may have to commandeer your cot, in that case.”  Lighthooves startled her by tapping the ground.

“Wait!” he said.  “A new inn just opened up a week or so ago.”  He frowned.  “It’s on the other side of town though, so you’re goin’ to get drenched on the way there.”

The mare raised an eyebrow, smirking.  “Are you offering to escort me, fair gentlecolt?” she said, batting her eyelashes.  The stallion pursed his lips, a warm red highlighting his cheeks.

“Not at all,” he said, perhaps a little too briskly.  “I’m just sayin’ that you’re goin’ to want your hood.”  The stallion paused, looking the mare up and down.  Aurora narrowed her eyes and glared at him.  When he caught her glare, he balked, raising his forehooves in self-defense.  “Woah, I’m not like that; I just noticed that you aren’t wearing your normal outfit.  Why not?”

“Left it back home,” she answered.

“Well, what’d you go and do a fool thing like that for?”

Aurora shook her head and shrugged.  “One of the conditions for the job.  He wanted me to go unarmed and unarmored.  To Tartarus if I know why.”

“Conditions be damned!” Lighthooves spat, emphasizing his words with a stomp.  “Sending our best mare into one of those damned tombs without any protection is borderline murder!  Did you upset him or somethin’?”

“No,” Aurora huffed.  “But I think it was a test.”

The stallion wrinkled his nose.  “A test?  What for?”

“I’m not sure,” the mare admitted.  “But I think our mysterious employer is planning something fantastical.  He’s testing our limitations, seeing how far we can go.”

It wasn’t the first time Aurora had thought about it.  His first mission was to dispatch their best to Unicornia, to acquire a simple robe once worn by some long-time-honored unicorn prodigy.  The catch was that it was on display in the Ivory Hall, the center of the Mage’s Guild in Equestria.  And that she was to steal it, in broad daylight, during a convention held by some esteemed unicorn.  Since then, she was tasked with various jobs that brought her throughout Equestria, each one characterized by an absurd requirement –– this last one requiring her to be completely naked.

Given the nature of these jobs, Aurora came to believe they were tests, leading up to some grandiose scheme.  It was either that, or somepony had a nasty grudge and was attempting to seek vengeance through suicidal tasks.

“Well, whatever he’s up to, I won’t deny he’s makin’ an absolute ass of himself,” Lighthooves said.  Aurora snorted, and shook her head.  For all they knew, he very well might be a donkey.

“He pays good.  That’s all that matters.”  Aurora replied mechanically, not meeting the stallion’s eyes.

“You sound like Shadowhorn.”  The tone of Lighthooves’ voice made his statement sound like an accusation, and Aurora refused to meet his eyes.

“Where is that inn?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“West side of town.  Can’t remember the name of it for the life of me, though.”

Aurora gazed up at the dark clouds illuminated by filtered sunlight and the occasional bolt of lightning.  “Well, it was nice running into you, Lighthooves.  Shadows be with you.”

“Shadows be with you,” he reiterated.

With that, Aurora charged headfirst into the storm, ignoring the droplets of water pelting and soaking her fur, and digging their cold, wet claws into the wounds on her flank.

(\_.^\_.^\_.^\_>-<>-<-></(_)><->-<>-<_/^._/^._/^._/)

Soft –– fluffy –– comfortable.  What was?

Aurora didn’t want to open her eyes.  It was too much effort.  Whatever she was lying on, wherever she was, it could wait.  It would wait.  It needed to wait.

Soft hoofsteps found their way to somewhere nearby her head.  There was the tink of glass on glass, shuffling, and then the hoofsteps left the way they came.  Some part of her recognized these things, acknowledged their existence, but the rest of her ignored the phantom.  Over the last two days it felt like a cloud had descended upon her mind, nipping at the heels of her judgement.  Lying here, she felt energized, alive –– like when she was flying.

Until now, she hadn’t even noticed the weight, subtle as it was.  It had only been two days without sleep, nothing she hadn’t suffered before.  It was these damn jobs this mysterious bastard persisted on shoving down her guild’s throat!  Aurora rolled herself over, her head flopping to the side.  Perhaps Lighthooves was right.

She had lost her package.  It was a necklace, enchanted, hidden within the tomb of a famous earth pony.  It was in her bags when she was assaulted on her way back to Cloudsdale.

What the hell was she doing, stealing from the deceased?  Robbing the living of their lasting memories?  This wasn’t what she had wanted.  Once upon a time she had ideals, morals.  Ethics ruled her choices.  Looting graves?  That should have been beneath her.

Was it?

Aurora opened her eyes.  She was greeted by a wall crafted from fresh wood, shadows cast by a recently lit candle dancing across the timber.  At her present eyelevel, a dark beam bordered between the lighter, more natural wood above, and the stained wood beneath.  She was lying on top of a large, linen mattress, the skin of a bear stretched out over it.

She felt an odd tightness as she tried to stretch out her legs.  Shifting her head to peer down to the end of the bed, she saw that somepony had wrapped her in cloth from her midsection down to her hindlegs.  Heat rose in her cheeks when she realized that whoever took the initiative had to have lifted her tail to secure the bandage around her flanks.

The alluring smell of warm vegetables and broth mixed with the subtle scent of pine, wafting from a bowl set on a table beside the headboard.  Aurora sniffed at the air, breathing in the wonderful smell a little longer before rolling off of the bed.  She sat back on her haunches, lifting the bowl of soup carefully between her fore hooves to her mouth, sipping intently.  The warmth of the meal flowed through her, banishing the hunger that had grown ravenous during her sleep.  How did she get here?

The sound of soft pattering that she had expected was missing.  The storm had passed.  How long was she out?  Too many questions, the answers to which would be lost to her if she stayed in this room much longer.

The sound of her steps across the wooden were hollow, and echoed.  She was upstairs.  Or above a cellar, perhaps.  Goat horns filled with wax and fitted onto iron constraints illuminated the hall outside her room.  Or rather, the room somepony had lain her in.  The walls were made with the same pine log halves as the room she left, with a stained clay border.  The floor was covered by a hall-length green rug, softer to the touch than its appearance gave credit.  Down the hall were a few more doors, each closed.  Aurora tugged on their knobs.  Everyone was locked as well.

At the end the hallway split down two ways.  One led not much further to double doors, and the other led to the top of a flight of stairs.  One glance at the doors, and the thought of what lay behind them became insistent.  Without a doubt, that was the master bedroom.  Inside of it would be the master of the house’s most valuable possessions.  Precious gems, valuable clothing, jewelry...

No.  She had morals.  This, stealing from the hospitable, was not one of them.  Perhaps Lighthooves was right; these ambitious missions were changing her.  She hated that thought.  When she returned to Cloudsdale, she would demand an audience with this mysterious pony.  No more secrets, no more tasks, no more jobs –– not until he or she told her what the purpose was.  Not until she knew who she was working for.

Aurora stifled a listless chuckle.  She wanted to deny a pony his secrets when her whole life, her very career, was built upon them.  The very definition of hypocrisy.

Beneath the first floor was a bar.  Behind the counter a bone-white unicorn busied himself with mindlessly wiping down a mug with a rag that was growing dirtier by the second.  He was chatting with the lone stallion who sat at the bar, a dark full-body cloak covering all but his head, the hood of said cloak having been withdrawn. The cloaked pony had a blue hoof around a dark green wine bottle, and was talking articularly.

A few windows cast fresh daylight into the room, and a blazing fire surrounded by stone reached what shadows the windows could not.  The benches set around the pit were void of life, but for a single mare who slept outstretched on one, snoring lightly.  The mare twitched, and the bottle in her grasp fell to the floor, rolling until it bounced against the stone border.

The bartender and his customer turned to the stairs when they heard the telltale creak of the boards sagging underneath the weight of a black hoof.

“Ah!  I take it you’re feeling better, madam?” said the pale unicorn, setting down the mug next to others of its kind that littered a specific part of the counter.  The pitch pegasus arched her back on the stairwell, until she heard her spine pop, and sighed in relief.

“Don’t call me madam,” she replied, working on stretching out her forehooves.

“As you wish,” he answered.  The other stallion tapped the counter, hoofing over a few gold coins and his empty bottle.  The unicorn wrapped the bottle in a green field of magic, and carefully placed it in a basket.  He then drew another equally green bottle from beneath the bar, and laid it before the earth pony.

Aurora studied the bar she was in, eyeing the drunk mare stretched out on a bench with distaste.  “Alright, three questions:  Where am I, how did I get here, and who are you?”

“Well, I’m Wineskin,” the bartender began. “Owner and proprietor of The Grounded Pegasus.”  Aurora nickered inwardly, her wings twitching at the name.  “You collapsed yesterday just outside of my inn, and I wasn’t about to just leave an unconscious mare out in that storm, especially with those wounds of yours.  Where did you get them?”

The pegasus held up a hoof.  “Hold on, yesterday?” she asked, eyes widening.  “What day is it?”

“The day’s a Middas, twelfth of Last Seed.  You’ve been asleep for near a whole day.”  Wineskin took note of the look on the mare’s face.  “You don’t have an appointment that you’re late for, do you?”

Aurora shook her head in response, she wasn’t expected back at the dead-drop till the weekend, which gave her another three days. She groaned, and held a hoof to her temple as a throbbing pain worked its way to the forefront.

“You okay, miss?” asked the stallion with the wine bottle.

“Just a headache.”

“Well, would you like a mug of something strong to help take the edge off?”  Aurora gave the bartender a curious look.  “All first-time customers are given a free sample,” he answered her unasked question, offering her an empty tankard.

She thought about it for a moment, and shrugged.  "Sure," she answered, taking a seat beside the stallion.

"So what would you like?" asked Wineskin, hovering the mug underneath several barrel taps.  "We have cider –– of course –– mead, beer, and wine."  He moved the mug under each barrel as he said its name, his green magic highlighting the labels.

"Eh," Aurora glanced between her options.  "I've had enough cider recently,” she said, remembering the drinking competition from yesterday.  “I'll take some of the mead.”

The earth pony guffawed, slamming a hoof down on the counter.  “Ha!  No such thing as too much cider, only too little!”

Aurora glared at him.  “Is that so?”  The stallion nodded sagely in response.  “Then why are you drinking wine?” she said, nodding to the green bottle he had his hoof around.  The bartender chuckled as he returned with her beverage.

“She’s got you there, Billet.”

“Shove it, ‘Skin,” the earth pony spat back.

Aurora sat down on the stool beside the earth pony named Billet.  The pressure of the wood against her bandages was uncomfortable at best, but if she didn’t move her rear then it was bearable.  She took a sip of the mead, enjoying the taste of honeyed liquor versus the spiced cider that was most often served at the pubs she frequented.  It was certainly a nice change of pace; the only times she was able to acquire mead was when she traveled north into Unicornia.

The earth pony took a long pull from his wine bottle, before setting it back down and belching obnoxiously.  Aurora raised her brow at him, but he shrugged it off.  She took a deep gulp of her mead, and held it down for a moment.  When the time was right, she released a burp hearty enough to rival his own.

The earth pony spat out his mouthful of wine, the unicorn just barely dodging the violet stream, and dissolved into a bout of snickering.  Wineskin shook his head and dropped a rag onto the floor, furiously wiping at the small puddle.

“I just had these floors finished!” he whinnied.

“Now there’s a true mare!” Billet said through his cackling, the bartender’s complaints falling on deaf ears.  When the slightly inebriated earth pony was finished, he asked, “So, what’s yer name, miss?”

“Well, it’s not ‘Miss’, I can tell you that,” snapped Aurora.  It wasn’t that she was trying to be short, although she was known for her temper, it was merely that she hated being addressed with pleasantries.  She wasn’t a ‘miss’, she wasn’t a ‘madam’, and nor was she a ‘milady’ (although it was rather rare for her to be addressed by the last title, she had been called it before.  That stallion couldn’t see out of his right eye for a week). She was Aurora the Pegasus, or sometimes ‘Boss’, and that was all she wanted to be.

“You can call me Aurora.”

"So, Aurora," said Wineskin, as he tossed the damp, purple rag into the wash basin.  "If you don't mind me being nosy, how did you come about those nasty scratches?"

"I'd rather keep that to myself," she answered, not meeting his eyes.

"As you wish."  The unicorn grabbed a dirty mug, furiously scrubbing it with another stained rag.  Aurora was reluctantly roped into a conversation with the stallion named Billet, although she was surprised to discover that the earth pony was an archer.

Archery had been developed by the griffons for the air, and adopted by the pegasi.  Whereas earth ponies used their tails and jaws, and unicorns used their horns (cheaters, Aurora couldn't help but think), pegasi used their wings.  Wing blades, and other forms of air weaponry, were often wielded by the pegasi and the griffons, but bows were the most common.

Pony hooves, while able to pick up simple items like mugs or daggers, were far too clumsy for the dexterity that a bow required.  The beast races were blessed with digits that could firmly grip the delicate bowstring, although most used their hands for great hammers and swords and the like.  Pegasi, however, were able to use their primaries as a sort of proxy for fingers, gripping the bow in hoof and working the string with their wings.  There were disadvantages to this, however.  Using their wings meant that a pegasus wielding a bow had to either be on the ground, or on a cloud, elsewise be falling through the sky.

Wineskin came back after evicting the snoring mare, furiously cleaning up the mess she had left behind.  He saw that Aurora’s mug was now empty, and offered her a refill, to which the pegasus refused.  She explained that she was hard on money at the moment, and didn’t want to use up what precious little she had left.

“Well,” said Billet, “If’n yer lookin’ fer some bits, you could always sign up fer the archery contest.”

“Archery contest?” Aurora replied swiftly.

“Yes,” answered Wineskin, as he went back to cleaning a mug.  “They’ve been setting up the arena just outside town since yesterday.”

“What’s the buy-in?”

“Eight bits initially,” said Billet.  “But the contest is today, and I think late buy-ins goes up to ten.”

Aurora frowned.  Ten bits was all she had left from from what she won yesterday.  It wasn’t that she feared losing, she was absolutely confident in her skill with a bow.  However, should she lose, that would break her.

And then, as if deciding for her, she remembered that she had left her custom bow back in Cloudsdale.  Aurora silently cursed her mysterious employer, and his outrageous tests he kept throwing at her.

“Don’t have enough?” asked Billet, seeing her frown.

“No, I have enough to enter,” Aurora told him.  “But I seem to be lacking a bow.”

“Aye, that’s a shame.”

“Well, a few legionnaires from Cloudsdale came by last night, just a few hours after I brought you in,” said Wineskin.  “They left a notice here; don’t know if it’ll be much help, though.”  The pale pony dipped under his counter, and reappeared with a unfurled parchment gripped between his lips, and set it before the mare.

WEATHER-WING FOAL STILL ALIVE

Melodious Whisper of House Weather-Wing

The Weather-Wing Family offers a reward of:

100,000 Bits

for the safe return of their filly.

House Silver-Tip offers an additional:

100,000 Bits

Underneath the notice was a replicated image of a small pegasus filly seated on a cushion, stiffly smiling at the artist.  Aurora admired the innocent mischief that the painter had captured in her yellow eyes, betraying an adventurous spirit that echoed her unique mane –– a multitude of color blending perfectly together, flowing down her neck like a rainbow.

“I thought she was declared dead...” Aurora softly said, her eyes never leaving the filly’s colorful mane.

“She was,” answered Billet soberly. “Can’t imagine how she survived this long –– been near a decade since she went missin’.”

“I can’t imagine what she’s been through; she was such an adorable filly,” added Wineskin, setting down the mug.  “Nopony deserves to go through that; her or her family.”

“What baffles me is how nopony’s found her, with a mane like that,” said Billet, gesturing toward the picture.

“That’s true,” Wineskin agreed.  “She would stand out like a dragon in a field of poppies.”

Aurora nodded solemnly.  She tapped the empty tankard on the wood as she thought.  She should just thank Wineskin for his hospitality, and be on her way to Cloudsdale.  After all, what her mysterious attacker stole from her wasn’t all she had; just spoils of where she had been.

“You alright there, Aurora?” asked the pony beside her, tearing her back to reality.  “You’ve been starin’ at that mug fer awhile, now.”

“Nothing of consequence,” she answered, not meeting either pony’s eyes.  Billet shrugged, returning to his drink.  Coming to a decision, Aurora pushed the empty tin mug toward Wineskin.  She thanked him for his hospitality and company, and swiftly left, Billet wishing her luck.

(\_.^\_.^\_.^\_>-<>-<-></(_)><->-<>-<_/^._/^._/^._/)

Aurora stared at the mountains that loomed over the settlement.  There was no trace of yesterday’s storm; pegasi had probably cleared the sky for the contest.  Just beyond the town she could see ponies working on setting up the arena, in fact, they were almost done.  They had erected several targets across the low end of a vast field, and at the moment they were fixing a stage for the competitors.  Beyond the field she could make out a stone idol of a gargoyle with a thick mane wrapped around his head.  She recognized it as one of the many shrines that dotted the country, although whom was depicted Aurora had no inclination.

The mare turned towards the northeast, where a small section of a dazzling silver tower was visible between the mountains and clouds.  A part of her couldn’t wait to return home, to lie covered in her magnificent silk sheets and just sleep the day away –– but not before stuffing herself with some of Barter’s fresh soup, hot off the fire.  However, despite her longing Aurora felt some sort of tugging on her heart.  It had been there since Wineskin had shown her the picture of the Weather-Wing filly, and she couldn’t shake it.

A part of her didn’t want to return home.  Why, though?  There was nothing for her in Nimbustall; certainly Wineskin and Billet had been nice enough company, but they were hardly reason enough to stay.  For now Aurora decided to ignore the ominous feeling, taking to the stone path that led away from the small town and towards the Tower.

Aurora’s journey began peacefully, just her trotting with nopony for company but for the rabbits who scampered out of her path and the birds that chirped at her from their treetop perches.  Perhaps they sensed the avian blood in her, or perhaps they just viewed her as a potential threat.  Regardless of which, all of them flew off in a flurry of wings as a pink pegasus dived towards her.  The other mare hit the ground cantering, her stunning blue mane whipping about her face as she skidded to a halt beside Aurora.

“Hey, you might not want to go that way!” she said, a large smile plastered over her face.  Aurora raised her eyebrow.

“Why not?”  As if to answer her question, a war cry sounded from over the hill.  Seven or so earth ponies and several pegasi crested over the hill, charging toward Aurora and the pegasus with fire in their eyes and swords in their mouths.

Without a second thought, Aurora turned tail and ran.  The other mare flew overhead, gesturing to her and yelling something that was lost to the wind.

“WHAT?” Aurora yelled back.  The pink mare descended down to her level, wings still flapping furiously.

“Fly!” she repeated.  Aurora just shook her head and growled.  She glanced over her shoulder; sure enough, the band of enraged ponies were still behind them, weapons drawn.  Just what did this mare do to them? she thought.  The both of them rounded a corner, Nimbustall now in sight.  Aurora beat her hooves against the ground harder, desperate to get to the safety of the town.  Her eyes widened when she saw three familiar steel-clad pegasi at the entrance.  Worse, the mares had also spotted the two of them swiftly approaching.

“HALT!” shouted their leader, as the other two bared their weapons.  Aurora slammed her forehooves into the ground, stopping just short of the leader’s snout.  She was slightly larger than Aurora, with a teal coat and fierce green eyes.  Aurora stared defiantly back.  The teal mare narrowed her eyes at the black pegasus.

Thankfully the ponies chasing them chose that moment to round the corner, each still brandishing their weapons and bellowing death threats.  The legionnaire took one look at them before spreading her wings, revealing serrated blades that stretched from the base to the primaries.  She shouted a stern command for the two citizens to stay put, before the wing of mares charged at the small army –– most of whom skidded to a halt and began galloping in the other direction.

“Yeah, that’s right!  Run away!” the pink mare called after the thugs.  “Bastards,” she added quietly enough for only Aurora to hear.

“What by all the fury of the Sun and Moon was that?!” Aurora rounded on her.

The pegasus cocked her head, bemused.  “What do you mean?” she asked.

Aurora grabbed the mare’s head and jerked it towards where the legionnaires had ran off, pointing down the path for emphasis.  “I mean that!”

The pink mare curled her forehooves between the both of them, and pushed Aurora away from herself.  “Calm down, mare.  It was only a bit of misunderstanding.”

Aurora snorted.  “What kind of ‘misunderstanding’ leads to being chased by a dozen ponies?”

She shrugged in response.  “Okay, so it was a little more than just a misunderstanding.  Don’t you think you’re taking this just a little too personal?”  The mare held her wingtips less than inch apart for emphasis.

“No!”  Aurora barked, taking a step forward.  “No, I don’t!  You led them right to the town!  What were you thinking?”

The mare pointed a hoof at herself before poking Aurora on the breast.  “Me?  I was thinking, ‘I’m being chased by ponies with weapons.  I think I might be safe near a town with a bunch of guards!’”

Aurora put her face so close to the other mare’s one could have sworn they were touching.  “And what about the townsponies?  What if the innocent got hurt?”

The other pegasus laughed.  “Innocent?  There’s no such thing as an innocent pony, mare.”  She took a step back, shoving Aurora back as well.  “You’re spending too much time worrying about what could’ve happened; the fact is that they didn’t get into the town, and that your so-called ‘innocent’ didn’t get harmed.”

Aurora worked her jaw, finally reigning in her anger and opting to merely glare at the mare opposite her.  The other mare equalled her glare, before sighing and offering a pink hoof.

“Look, I think we may have gotten off to a bad start,” she candidly stated.  “What say I buy you a drink?  There’s a new pub that just opened in town that I mean to try.”

Aurora stared at the pink appendage for a moment, and shook her head.  “No.  The only thing I want right now is to be on my way to Cloudsdale.”  She picked herself up and once again began to follow the path to the pegasus capitol.

“Woah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the other mare warned, cutting off her path.  “Those ponies are still on the road, and there’s a fair bit more than the group who chased me.”

“Thank you for the advice, but I can take care of myself; I assure you I’m a grown mare,” Aurora replied, trotting around the pink annoyance.

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, following the pitch pegasus.  “Certainly you don’t plan on traveling without a weapon or armor? Not in the state you’re in...”

Aurora stopped, turning around and narrowing her eyes.  “What do you mean, ‘state I’m in’?”  The mare pointed her hoof at her rear, at the bandages wrapped around Aurora’s flank.

“So... what happened?” the mare inquired.

“It’s not any of your business,” Aurora said, a more callous version of the answer she gave the bartender when he asked.

“You plan on traveling to Cloudsdale with wounds like those?” the mare continued, much to Aurora’s displeasure.  “You’ll be picked off by bandits before you make it halfway!”

Aurora finally had enough of the pink pegasus.  “Why do you care?” she shouted.  The other mare took a step back, staring at her for a moment before her eyes slightly widened, as if a realization struck her for the first time. She stared at Aurora cooly.

“You’re right,” she said.  “I don’t care.”  And with that, the mare turned around and trotted swiftly away.  Aurora watched her go, the dual lightning bolts adorning the mare’s flank the last thing she saw of her before she disappeared behind the wooden gates of Nimbustall.

Aurora glowered at the gates for a moment, before glancing back up at the barely visible apex of the ivory spire.  The Sun wasn’t very far from the tip, illuminating the massive cloud city wreathed about the tower.  Just after midday; it would be at least several hours before twilight, and regardless of whether Aurora liked it or not, the pegasus had a point.  Unarmed and in the middle of day, there was no chance of sneaking by the the thugs’ camp; and Aurora was not willing to risk traveling off the trail and running into a pack of wolves –– not while she couldn’t fly away.

She experimentally extended her wings, but swiftly withdrew them with a hiss of pain and a swear.  It would be a day or two before she could fully extend them, and she wouldn’t be able to fly without risk of further damaging the appendages until the end of the next week.  That was the case without the help of potions.  If she could buy the services of an alchemist, she would be up and flying in two or three days at the latest!  However, she reminded herself, I have no money.

Aurora stopped.  She craned her neck, staring at the stone path that led through the mountains towards Cloudsdale, the same path not but a short moment ago she had been traveling down –– until she had been chased by a dozen thugs.  A few dozen ponies setting up a camp alongside a main trail?  Most likely forcing a toll on weary travellers... most likely hoarding a small fortune.  Aurora felt a genuine smile wind its way across her face.  It was settled; she would wait in town until the sun went down, and then hit them for all they had.

Her thoughts were broken as a trio of armored pegasi trotted into view, two of the bandits trapped between their shoulders.  Aurora jaunted through the gates of Nimbustall before the legionnaires noticed her, and galloped behind the sanctuary of a wall of barrels.  She watch the trio of mares as they guided their prisoners towards the center of town.  The two earth ponies, dressed in mismatched clothes, looked battered and broken, resigned to their walk of shame.  The three pegasi and their armor were splattered in fresh blood, yet walked with an air of determination and indifference.

As the five ponies trotted past her hiding spot, the middle pegasus stopped.  Without breaking formation, she craned her neck around one of the captured bandits and scanned the houses nearby.  As her gaze passed over Aurora, she paused, and for a fleeting moment Aurora swore the mare could see her.  Aurora stared down those green eyes, certain she had been found.  Then, the mare’s eyes left her, finishing their sweep of the homes.  One of the other legionnaires gave the mare a questioning look, to which the mare shook her head.  Then they continued on their way.

Aurora didn’t stop watching them until they disappeared from sight.