Knife of Canterlot

It’s been well over a month since I took the fall for my Empress’ murder. The dankness of Moon Ridge Prison leaves a deep chill in my bones that even the torturer’s brand cannot expel, and oh does he try his hardest to do so. Each day, the Royal Spymaster brings me in for “questioning” under the facade of forcing a confession out of the infamous ex-Lord Protector, but no one knows that behind those walls she gloats of her coup-de-grace.

“We were so pleased whenst you showed thy face that day, Dawn Wing.The Head Overseer and we had been planning to murder her for months, yet we had pondered over who should take the fall…” she would say tauntingly, lifting up my chin with her hoof to grin mockingly into my eyes. “Be at ease, Dawn. Thanks to you, the empire can now begin anew under OUR reign…”

I would be unable to reply, my back freshly scabbed over from that day’s torturous session. If only I could stab the treacherous wench, but I had no longer the means nor the will. The empress who had confided her confidences in me was dead, and it was I who had failed to protect her.

Chains swing slowly from the ceiling, clinking against their links. I rattle against my bonds, hoarsely begging for water for what seems to be hours on end. No one understands the unquenchable thirst you develop after being tortured for hours without the smallest respite. Sometimes, cradling my wounds in my cold cell, I almost rather be back in the chair and howling in agony. At least then, the pain would distract from this terrible thirst.

My prayers are answered. A guard shoves a meal tray under the door into the cell, looking piteously at my condition before returning to his rounds without another word. I was the object of compassion and scorn in the prison, being jointly filled with both Royal Guards and City Watch alike. That would soon change; with the Royal Spymaster declaring herself Lord Regent of the city, she’s been ousting all of her sister’s supporters from the guard until only a few remained whom she controlled through more unsavory means.

Crawling over to my tray, I first take the cup in my hooves and tremblingly bring it to my mouth. In my excitement to gulp down the precious water, some of it spills over the brim but I could not care. Coolness trickled down my throat, the pain of my dehydration receding into a dull memory alongside the wounds on my back. For the first time, I notice a note placed stealthily underneath the plate of greens that was my meal for the evening.

Hesitant, my hoof drifts over the note as if the swipe it aside when a small glimmer from within it stops me. I open the note and out drops a small metal key that clangs loudly against the cobbled floor of my cell. I was too shocked by the contents of the note to noticed much, though.

“Lord Protector,

We know you are innocent of the crimes set against you. We could use a stallion of your ability to help our cause. Join us, and take back your honor and your empress’ revenge. Reject us, and be hanged on the morrow as is planned for your public execution.

Inside this note is the key to your cell. With what little influence we could exert within the Spymaster’s domain, we have arranged for the passages directly around your cell to be strangely lacking of guards. You will find a standard half-sword and pistol directly outside of your cell’s door. There will be a note with further instructions inside the sword’s sheath should you choose to accept: if you have resigned yourself to die, take no regard to this letter.

We will be waiting for you, Dawn Wing.”

I steady my hoof from it’s shaking. There were greater forces at work here, and I’ve been forced into the fray against my own will. Now, I can either die a dog’s death for a murder I did not commit, or I can force that bastard Luna to die in my stead. “There really is no choice, you bastards,” I uttered fiercely under my breath as I took the key to my mouth.

Using the key to unlock my bonds and my cell door, I stretch out my limbs before almost tumbling back down to the floor again. My back burns in protest at the sudden movement, and my vision grows blurred for a second as pain rules my body. Forcing my legs to my will, I mechanically walk into the hallway and pick up the promised weapons. Opening the sheath, I find the second note.

“We knew you would choose to join us.”

Pretentious cocks, I thought darkly to myself.

“We knew you would choose to join us. We have arranged for a way of escape from Moon Ridge Prison, but you must first find your way to the extraction point. In the Spymaster’s interrogation room, we have hidden timed explosives. Retrieve those before making your way to the main gate. Once you set the charges to explode, you must immediately escape through the gate into the nearby sewers. We’ve left another package of tools for you to use, along with a map of the route you will need to take to reach our stallion. Find your way through the sewers, and you are as good as free.

Good luck, Dawn Wing.”

By the Empress, I thought to myself. This was more well-planned than I anticipated.

It was relatively easy to navigate through the halls undetected. After all, most of the guards had been drafted to help with preparations for my planned execution to begin with, and some of what little guards were left had been influenced by my newfound group of benefactors to conveniently not show up to their respective watches. Still, I had to exercise caution as I approached the Spymaster’s interrogation room.

Hearing hooves tramp down the hallway, I immediately turn a corner and crouch into a stealthed position, immediately unsheathing my blade. As the guard turned the corner and raised his eyes in surprise, I silently plunged my sword into his chest while covering his mouth with my hoof. I watch the light slowly die in his eyes as his body grows limp, and I haul his body into the corner before continuing.

It was a distasteful task, dispatching the guards like this. After all, it was hardly a fair fight when you placed these greenhorns against a veteran of the Zefrican wars. I felt little remorse for them, however, as I remember who their employer was. “The gods-damned Spymaster will drown in her own blood if I have anything to do with it,” I say to myself after slitting the throat of another unwary guard.

The way into the interrogation chamber was surprisingly unguarded. I grab whatever money could be found within the desk that sat in the corner of the room before retrieving the promised explosives. Just as I turn to leave, though, I hear voices outside of the room. After stealthily making my way back towards the door, I kneel down to peer through the keyhole and see what was occurring.

“I’m tellin’ ya, it’s downright eerie it is. No matter how many rat-catcher gangs we send out, them damn rats keep surgin’ back. It ain’t natural.” A city guardsman stands by the rails that overlooks the prison block below, slowly puffing on a cigarette.

His companion grunts in agreement. “At least we ain’t assigned to the Flooded District; I hear them poor bastards have to deal with rats AND weepers while shoveling out them dead carcasses. Plus all that talk about the Outsider-”

“Quiet!” muttered the first guard intensely. He gestures towards an overseer that was walking below them. “I can’t figure out for myself if those bloody creeps scare me more than the rats. Did ya here what they did to the last guy they caught talking about the Outsider?” he said in a low tone so as not to be overheard below.

“No, what’d they do?” the second guard whispered back.

“That’s just it, nopony knows. Guy just disappears off da face of de earth like he never lived or nothin’. They could still be torturin’ him as we speak, or his body could be rottin’ at the bottom of a whaler right about now. Thing is, them overseers always keep everything secretive like. Hell, they even wear masks so we can’t see their damn faces. Bloody pricks, the lot of ‘em.” Spitting gratuitously to the side, he finally backs away from the rail. “Come on, Spymaster wants us ta get out the former Lord Protector again; seems he wants to gloat one last time before the poor bastard’s hanged. Son of a bitch deserves it though; who the hell murders their own empress?”

Hoofsteps gradually fade away as the guards make for my empty cell. “Damn it,” I cursed under my breath. If I didn’t plant these explosives on the main gate soon, the entire prison would be after my head. At this point, stealth would have to be forgone for speed.

Making haste, I ghost my way through the hallways until I nearly collided with a watch captain who had suddenly turned the corner. “What the-” was about the farthest he got before I shoved my sword into his eye and gave it a twist before viciously pulling it out again. He fell without another sound, and I make it to the last checkpoint that separates me from the outside. A patrol of four guards stand around making jokes to each other while a guard captain watches from the gatehouse control room.

I take a moment to regain my strength. After a month of physical torture, my body did not have the physique it formerly possessed, and even now my breathing was starting to become more ragged. Gripping a nearby empty bottle with my mouth, I throw it as hard as I can down the hallway before melting into the shadows.

“What was that!?” came the cry of the nearest guard as he came into the hall to investigate the noise. Spotting the broken wine bottle, he runs over to investigate the remains. Guards two and three also come out to accompany him, while guard four remained at his post being farthest from the hallway.

Stepping out of my hiding place, I quickly crawl my way into the main hall. The remaining watch captain and guard has their vision obstructed by several tables that I use to my advantage as I creep closer to the door leading to the gatehouse control room. At this point, I throw all caution to the wind. Barging into the door, I quickly shoot the watch captain with my pistol as I move towards the controls, setting the entrance to the hall to go on lockdown. Guard four brings out his own pistol to take a shot, but I quickly dive underneath the cover of the controls and crouch my way towards the other side of the control room that exited towards the main gate.

I hear pistol rounds bouncing off the walls above me as I break away from the control room. Sending my own pistol fire in return, I set the explosives to explode before a searing pain pierces my leg. “Bloody miserable bastard!” I cursed freely, dropping the explosive at the base of the door to bring out my pistol again. The guard pressed down on the trigger only to find that his chamber was empty, during which I send a bullet into his chest. With a moan, he collapses to the floor with his hooves holding his injury in an attempt to staunch the blood.

The explosives blow just as my pursuers manage to break down the door. Without hesitation, I run through the opening in the gate and dive into the moat 50 ft. below Moon Ridge prison as guards fumble with pistols attempting to get a round off. The pain in my leg recedes as I embrace the cold water swirling around me, sending me into a slight reverie. This was not to last, however. Bullets whizzing past me in the water bring me back into reality, and I force my tired body to swim towards the sewer entrance - and hopefully, to freedom.