The Birth of a Rebellion

Darkness. Everything Frost could see… or feel was that. Darkness surrounded her. She was conscious, yes… she could think after all, but still… she felt isolated.

Suddenly, a background noise appeared… It was barely audible, like wind whistling around her, constantly increasing and suddenly fading away. Still… she hanged to it, trying to drag herself from the blackness of her mind.

The low whistle slowly grew recognisable. The sirens around her and the racket of an anxious crowd filled her mind, though they were barely audible over the buzz inside her ears. She tried to open her eyes, but her strength faltered.

She felt being carried, her body shaken by the constant movement of walking. Why was she being carried? She felt that, but nothing more. Her body was numb, and she was trapped inside, unable to move. Was she dying? Frost would have shouted in anger, but her incapability to do so only made her feel even more helpless.

The darkness that surrounded her was more appealing with each passing moment. She wanted to let herself go. She needed so badly some rest… The noise started to turn deafening, as the darkness wrapped her mind again. The buzz grew stronger, making her wish being able to cover her ears. But she knew everything would end soon…

And suddenly, over all the noise, the darkness and the hopelessness a voice raised from everywhere.

Resist…

“Oh boy, you’re really taking the hard way…” Crafty Tail said as his hoof hit Crimson’s already bruised face.

Crimson’s head leaned inert to his side. Almost two days of torture had passed, but for him it had been an eternity. Deprived of any sleep or rest, time passed for him with another pace. A very slow one. No windows or clock were in the room to let him sense the flow of time. Even the atmosphere of the room remained immutable. The static whiteness of the room was only altered by the sporadic flickering of fluorescent lights. This immutableness clouded his mind, making him unable to think clearly, or to think at all.

“It’s not that difficult... Tell me what Black Claw is planning, or where he is hiding, and this will end…” Crafty Tail said in a smooth and relaxed tone.

All kinds of wounds covered Crimson’s body, bleeding and soaking his coat in a darker red. Burns, those were only the beginning. Small circular patterns covered his forelegs, produced by the cigarettes that Crafty Tail smoked. Since the beginning of the interrogation, each time he finished them, he just buried the butt into Crimson’s bare skin. As time passed, Crimson even got accustomed to the stinging pain.

Sixty-seven cigarettes; that was the last number he recalled before losing consciousness. After that, he didn’t even bother to keep counting. It was meaningless. Time became meaningless. Everything that existed for Crimson was the whiteness of the room, the voice of the earth pony, sometimes deep and smooth and others joyful and even sadistic, and the bruising and pain. (flavour of blood)

Crimson knew that if the policepony found that he had been in the palace during Black Claw’s assault that would be his end. He confessed meeting him in the disco in the Manehattan’s outskirts. He even told him bits of the conversation he had with Black Claw there. But far from satisfying the brown coated pony, he just pressed more and more in seek of an information that Crimson didn’t had.

The hours passed as he kept torturing Crimson in what proved to be an endless source of imaginative methods to cause pain, not only physical, but psychological. Crimson was shown the darkest side of ponies. Assassinations, rapes… Deeply disturbing images that crept his mind after some folders the policepony carried inside his saddlebags were open for his eyes only.

Slowly undermining his will to resist, the policepony patiently took Crimson to the edge of madness, and when he got there, he just tortured him with other methods, making him snap back to reality. This cycle was taking Crimson to his limit. But in the end, he resisted just because… because he owed it to her. He would not leave her again. Not again.

Frost woke up with a scream. Sitting up on the bed, she found herself soaked in sweat. She panted nervously as she started to look around her. Where was she? (The room that surrounded her was completely unfamiliar)She didn’t recognise the room. It wasn’t her flat of course, the walls of the room, painted in a cream colour, completely opposed to the neatness of the white walls that her flat had. Also, her flat had wide windows, not the little window that let a small stream of daylight get into the room. It didn’t seem the room of a hospital either…

“Nice to see you awake. How do you feel, sweetheart?” asked a gentle voice from one corner of the room. Frost followed the voice to find a unicorn sitting on a chair, floating some papers around her. Frost took her time before answering, staring at the unknown pony. She was a greyish dark blue coated mare, with a light blue mane, similar to Frost’s, but striped in white. She wore a black vest and a couple of grey bracelets on her forelegs.

“Fine, I think…” Frost answered. She felt dumb and dazed. How had she arrived here? Frost sent a questioning glare to the unicorn that smiled slightly as she left the papers that floated around her on a chest of drawers nearby. Waking up from the chair, the mare approached her gently.

“I know that you might have a lot of questions right now, but you should rest.” She said, placing a hoof over Frost’s shoulder, forcing her to lie down on the bed again.

“You really pushed to the limit my medical abilities healing your wounds, and you really don’t want some of those to open again, right?” She said, pointing to Frost’s side. Frost turned her head and gasped. Her right wing was completely bandaged, and blood soaked some places of the neat white surface. She also noticed other bandages over her left hoof and over her chest. Even though she seemed so beaten, she felt no pain at all.

“If I were you I would enjoy the effect of the painkillers while they last, because these burns will surely be painful.” The unknown mare said, as if she knew what Frost thought. Frost leant on the bed again, and sighed loudly. Slowly, the dark blue coated mare headed to the door. She knew the mare was right, but she had a storm of questions inside her head.

“At least you could tell me your name?” Frost asked with fading voice.

“Moonbeam… My name is Moonbeam.” The mare said before leaving the room.

Frost knew she would not get more answers from the mare yet, so she closed her eyes, waiting for falling asleep.

The physical torture started to become bearable with time. The numbness of his sore body shielded him from further pain, even though everything ached. Crafty Tail , feeling the uselessness of more physical damage, stood up from the chair in which he had been sitting during the whole interrogation. After leaving the room and commanding another policepony to assure that Crimson remained awake, he returned with a new pile of folders.

His voice became smooth and understanding, almost compassionate. He spoke Crimson words of peace and freedom, and he almost took the lye. When this failed, the policepony decided to take another direct path. With a sign to the ponies hidden behind the mirror, the door unlocked and a metallic table floated in between Crimson and Crafty Tail. Calmly, the brown coated pony placed the folders split over the shiny and polished surface. From all of them, the policepony chose a single folder.

“Here, mister Zephyr, I’ve got a folder. It’s not like any folder I’ve shown you yet… This folder specially contains data related to your life. To all of it…” he said while he rose the folder open in front of his eyes, reading. “It’s a common requirement that ponies are investigated when they enter the Academy in Canterlot, even as an student.”

For the next few minutes, he remained silent, just skimming page after page of the dusty pack of pages.

“A quite brilliant career, the one you have destroyed. You could have been a respectable pony, instead of this…” Crafty Tail said with a disdainful gesture.

Crimson just could hiss in disagreement, too weak to answer the policepony.

“I’ve had time to read it thoroughly, and I discovered several events that made your life as it is. They were all different, but in the end, they all have a common factor mister Zephyr. They all are coward actions made by a coward pony.”

Crimson raised his head, bruised and soaked in a mix of blood and sweat, and sent the policepony a defying glare.

“You have no… no idea of what you are speaking about…” Crimson finally muttered, locking his stare deep inside the dark green eyes of the policepony.

“I don’t? Well, let me see…” Crafty Tail said as he opened the folder. “Here says that you were born in Canterlot, but your parents moved to Manehattan when you were still a little foal. There you lived there a happy foalhood. Awww, that’s so touching” The policepony said with a mocking smile. “Let me guess, you had friends, you were happy and everything was bright, uh?”

Crimson didn’t answer, still staring the eyes of the policepony.

“Until that unfortunate accident…” He said. He put away the folder over the table and approached Crimson again. He still held his gaze, anger growing inside him as he realized where the pony was heading to.

“That was your first act of cowardice, mister Zephyr. The first of a long list. Your parents… would be ashamed of you…” Crafty Tail ended.

Crimson struggled, trying to free himself from the ties that kept him sat on the chair.

“Don’t. Ever. Mention. My parents. Again!”

“Finally! Finally we start to establish some communication! Finally a bit of feeling behind your words!” The brown coated pony yelled victorious, grabbing with his forehoofs Crimsons face. “Now, mister Zephyr, tell me… The report from the Manehattan police said that you were the only survivor of that fire. A terrible accident indeed, but you could have saved them… Their bodies were found in a last embrace, charred, blackened and unrecognisable, did you know?”

Crimson had long ago stopped listening to the policepony’s hurting words. He only saw fire, the same fire that surrounded him six years ago, when the flat where he lived with his parents caught fire. He remembered his parents in that last embrace, as his father yelled him to turn around and flee while he stayed holding her unconscious mother. He just flew away. The day after, he left Manehattan without telling no pony. Perhaps he was a coward after all… Crimsons head hung motionless, his eyes covered by his sweaty grey mane.

“And after abandoning your parents to their fatidic fate, you abandoned your friends, and flew to Canterlot, to become someone you were not. I don’t blame your friends for hating you as they do…”

Crimson raised his head again. His eyes were soaked in tears, but his glare only revealed hate. Hate toward the policepony, but overall toward himself. Crimson hissed as he started to struggle strongly against the ties that imprisoned him.

“Yes, mister Zephyr. They hate you. You left them back after all, abandoned them when they needed you most, and you needed them. They were hurt by you, and you alone. And you didn’t even realise…As you did with every other pony you have met. You left them and flew. The fact was that after the first time it became easier right? Yeah, when you joined the Academy you had very righteous excuses to abandon everypony. You were afraid, mister Zephyr. Afraid of this wonderful society I protect, afraid of yourself, but, overall, afraid of her…What was her name…? Frost Cloud… yeah…” The policepony grinned as he chose and opened another folder.

“She was more than willing to tell me everything about your adventures at the Royal Sister’s palace. Both of them. Quite a charming mare, you know?”

Crimsons struggles were substituted by a silent stare into infinity. He couldn’t believe he was betrayed by her… He just couldn’t.

“You are lying…” Crimson muttered, as a single tear tried to run over his wounded and swollen cheek, turning into a red mixture that finally defiled the white floor, as many other blood drops and fluids had before.

“And if I did, how could you know? You didn’t met with her nor spoke with her since you returned from Ponyville. She was resentful. You had abandoned her twice. She had realised what kind of a coward you were, and when I came to her, she opened like a book to me, allowing me to read all I needed.”

The dark green eyes of the policepony unlocked their stare as he stood up from the chair at the other side of the table.

“Anyway, don’t fret, my dear friend. She shall enjoy the same outstanding treatment you have received soon.” The pony said as a sadistic grin drew on his face. “When I finish with you, I will bring her here, and I will show her the empty shell in which I will have turned you. And when she does, she will tell me what I want. And if she doesn’t… She will be tortured until she does. And she will suffer because of your cowardice, as any other pony that you have ever touched”

Crimson started to shiver not in fear, but in anger. The policepony had crossed a line, and Crimson was more than ready to make him pay. He cared no more for what will happen to him, he just knew he wanted to make that pony suffer.

“You will not do that…”

“What was that?” The policepony asked with an incredulous glare and a smirk.

“I will not let you… I will kill you first.”

“Hehehehehe… I think you are not in position to... Ughhh!” He grunted as a white glow surrounded his neck and he started to float him toward the wall. Crimson’s horn glowed brightly as the body of the policepony lifted from the floor and hit the wall. He no longer feared his fate. He knew he was doomed, but he would take this psycho with him. Logic had guided his decisions all his life, but not now… Hours of sleep deprivation and psychological torture had taken their effect. He wasn’t rational any more. Anger blinded him and desire guided his actions. And his deepest desire was that Crafty Tail threats were his last words.

“You will die today, psychopath! Perhaps what you had shown me about Black Claw is true and many ponies died within his grasp, but what you have done in Her name as a personal crusade is just as deplorable… And it shall end!”

Crimson concentrated fully in choking the damned pony. Crafty Tail’s gasps turned weaker as his dark green eyes rolled to the back of his head. Crimson grinned in satisfaction as he felt the efforts the policepony did to live turned futile.

Crimson heard the door open behind him, but he didn’t care; he was so close… He pressed more in a final attempt to reap the policepony’s life. He almost felt his last heartbeats… Until a strong hit reached his head, which fell inertly over his chest. Raising it again, his horn still glowing, Crimson looked at the policepony, and felt his grasp fading… After another hit of the baton, his vision started to blur. He had failed again. Crimson could only think about his parents, about Frost Cloud, about the mare that within the walls of the ruins of the Royal Sisters palace had begged him to end her life. At that moment, he could only think about how he failed them all.

Crimson’s and Crafty Tail’s inert bodies made a simultaneous thump as they hit the floor. Quickly approaching Crafty Tail, the dark blue coated pegasus that accompanied him at his first visit at Crimson’s flat shook his companion.

“Sir! Sir!”

The brown coated pony started to cough loudly, and slowly waking up he pointed Crimson’s laying body with one hoof.

“Send a message to Canterlot... We are taking this piece of shit to the Extraction chambers! And prepare my departure to Canterlot for tomorrow! I want to see this one suffer in first hoof” He yelled angrily.

“But sir, you should go to see the doctor…” The blue coated pegasus worriedly said to the policepony, who returned him a killing glare.

“Send the message to Canterlot. Now!” He said pointing with one hoof the open door of the interrogation room. Outside, several policeponies peeked trying to discover what happened.

After the blue coated pegasus left the room, Crafty Tail slammed the door with all his hate, and turned to the unconscious body of Crimson.

“Damned unicorns and their telekinesis... I thought you would be way too weak by now to use it, but it seems that I was wrong.” He said as he opened his gabardine’s pocket, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. After, he sat on the polished aluminium chair.

“Don’t worry, mister Zephyr. You will never arrive to the extraction chambers. Even though you would deserve becoming an empty shell after all your memories where wiped out, tonight, you are going to be my new move in a chess game bigger than you could ever imagine… “

The door opened, and a unicorn wearing the Royal guard traditional golden amour came into the room, bowing in front of Crafty Tail, who answered with a sinister grin once more.

Frost opened her eyes. Nothing had changed, except for the orangish light that got through the window. Her bandaged winged had started to pain. It was only a bit, but Frost knew that soon it would hurt a lot. She grunted a bit as she sat up on the bed.

Taking away the blanket, she discovered that her hinderlegs where bandaged too. She had escaped from the blaze by few meters, and still she was burnt. Frost turned her head to the chair where Moonbeam sat before. Her blackened and burnt saddlebag hanged there, open, revealing the two gemstone prototypes. So much effort to get them and now… She would likely not conserve them anyway. Would the police blame her for blowing up the lab to steal the gems?

Frost sighed as she realised she had a big problem between her hooves. Even though she tried to demonstrate that she didn’t blow the lab, the police would not believe her. She had a motive, as she had been fired recently, and she had the knowledge required to make the furnace explode. Even if she could hide the gemstones and demonstrate that she hadn’t stole anything, her wounds would be proof enough to any policepony of her presence when the explosion took place.

Still, she was here, and not inside a cell, receiving medical treatments from an unknown mare called Moonbeam. She leaned to the edge of the bed and with care taunted the floor with her hinderleg. It didn’t hurt. Slowly she placed each hoof on the floor and stood up. She wasn’t going to stay in that bed anymore, she needed answers.

The door was ajar. Stealthly approaching it, she stuck out a bit giving a glance inside the room. It was a simply decorated small living room. In front of her there was a display with a sofa, two armchairs and a coffee table in front of which Moonbeam sat, floating a coffee cup by her side. She stared at a place somewhere outside Frost’s field of vision with a worried expression.

“We are not charity, M.B. We cannot take care of every pony we find in trouble.” A deep voice said, coming from where Moonbeam stared.

“I don’t care Gren. It is my fault she was harmed like that, and knowing what would happen to her if we left her alone… I just can’t ,Gren! Is it that difficult to understand!?” anxiously said Moonbeam.

“Look, I’ve sent Yerith to speak with Black Claw, and when she returns with our orders, we are going to follow them, even if you don’t like them… Understood?” said the other voice.

Moonbeam stood up and started wandering around the room anxiously, her face full of concern.

“But if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish the mission… I’d still be here revising tons of plans and designs uselessly. She discovered how to avoid the energy fields in one evening! I’ve spent almost a month trying, and I was unable to do it.”

“Yeah, and I deeply appreciate that she did that for us, but she’s a burden right now; we can’t stay here until she recovers and we can’t take her with us. You know that that damned policepony is already tightening his net around us. He might be a psycho, but he isn’t a fool. We mustn’t let him any chance.”

“But…”

“No more buts. Wait for orders. Follow them. Understood?”

Frost saw the mare nodding with a defeatist gesture. After that, Moonbeam turned around following the clicking sound of an opening door. A zebra dressed with a red vest and who wore a couple of golden hooflets wandered into her visual field. For a moment, she turned her eyes to where Frost stood hidden. Frost shivered as she felt the emotionless glance of the zebra right into her eyes. If the zebra knew she was there, her expression didn’t reveal it.

“Welcome, Yerith” said Moonbeam. “Have you spoken with Black Claw?”

The zebra nodded and opened her saddlebag, extracting an envelope. Moonbeam’s horn started to glow with a greyish light, floating the envelope toward her, opening it and floating out a paper. Her worried face turned into a smile as she kept reading.

“Gren, I think you should read this.” She said floating the paper up in the air. Frost started to hear footsteps approaching the mare.

Suddenly, a griffon got into the scene. Frost eyes narrowed as she recognised the golden feathered griffon that not so long ago had almost killed her in the ruins of the Royal sister’s palace. All the images of the massacre at the palace came back to her mind, overall the ones in which the fearsome griffon ripped apart the Celestia’s guards one by one with his sharp claws.

“I can’t believe this…” the griffon said slowly as he read the letter. Sharply turning around to the zebra, he crumpled the letter and threw it aggressively to her hooves. “I can’t believe it! What is Black Claw thinking of!?” The griffon yelled at the zebra with the whole strength of his voice, unable to disturb the stare of the zebra that didn’t flinch even a bit before the outburst of the griffon.

“Those are the orders… We waited for them, and now we must follow.” Moonbeam said with a grin on her face.

“Don’t provoke me, child!” The griffon threateningly yelled turning around and pointing her with one of his sharp claws.

Moonbeam’s grin disappeared swiftly as the griffon started to wander the room, filled with anger.

“Look, this is madness! We’ve got that policepony on our tails, and doing this will mean we will get caught for sure! I don’t know what Black Claw expects of us by commanding us to rescue this pony… I don’t know what he has seen on him so especial to risk us saving him!” He yelled to nowhere. The zebra stood in front of him, silent, staring at him with no sign of fear.

“Charity! That’s what we have turned into… Damned charity!” he outraged before leaving the flat with a slam.

Moonbeam remained silent as she sent a glance to the zebra, that simply left her saddlebags on the table and headed to the sofa. Once she sat down, she silently pointed to the door which Frost hid behind.

“There’s no need to hide, I knew you were eavesdropping, as well as Yerith did.” Moonbeam said calmly as she looked to where Frost was.

“How could you know?” Frost asked confused, opening the door and walking into the room.

“Well, I cast a spell on you to know your current state. It’s an old trick to take care of patients even if you are not inside the same room. How Yerith knew… That’s something I’ll never guess. Just don’t tell anything about this to Gren, I don’t think he would like it.” Moonbeam said.

“Sit down, I need to change those bandages, and we don’t have much time.” She commanded pointing a free seat in the sofa as she floated a jar and some bandages toward her.

Frost looked at the mare and noticed her cutiemark. It seemed like a four pointed star made of crystal, but it was cracked, shattered. That didn’t seem precisely a medical cutiemark. Unable to contain her curiosity, she couldn’t help but ask.

“Moonbeam… What does you cutiemark mean? It doesn’t seem like a medical cutiemark…” Frost asked, curiously gazing at the mare as she opened the jar revealing a strong smelling ointment.

“Does that mean you don’t trust my medical abilities?” she said seriously staring at Frost, raising an eyebrow.

“No! I didn’t mean that, it’s just that…” Frost swiftly muttered with an apologetic expression on her face. Suddenly the mare smiled widely and placed her hoof on Frost’s shoulder and Frost’s tense expression relaxed.

“Just teasing, darling. It’s a fair question… No, it isn’t a medical cutiemark. My parents expected me, as many ponies in my family did before me, to turn into a medical pony. Trying to uncover my special talent in medicine, they taught me since I was a filly to treat wounds and other kinds of injuries. It was kind of forced… I never truly liked medicine you know? But it still proves useful from time to time.” She answered while she spread the ointment over the bandages. The strong smell started to make Frost dizzy. She started to slowly remove the bandages around her wing, tossing them inside a bin. Meanwhile the zebra stared silently.

“Does she ever say anything?” Frost asked, pointing at the zebra with her nuzzle.

“No… At least to nopony apart from Black Claw and Gren. She is perfectly able to speak though, but she doesn’t do it unless it is extremely necessary. I’ve come to the theory that she only speaks to the ones she judges worth of the effort. I’ve tried asking, but the only answer I get is that glacial stare.” She said as both mares looked at the zebra.

Finally, she arrived to the last set of bandages that hid her skin from sight, and her telekinesis faded.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t look. Even though thanks to the ointment your wing should have improved a lot since the last time I saw it, it will not be a pleasant sight.”

Frost turned her head and started to feel the pain of the bandages being removed from her bare burnt skin. After a few moments of sharp pain, she felt the relieving touch of the new ointment covering her bare skin. But the smell… the smell was asphyxiating. She started to feel sick, so when the bin where Moonbeam had thrown the bandages just floated beside her, she took no time to grab it, vomiting inside.

Taking her head out of the bin, Frost looked at Moonbeam with an apologetic smile.

“A nasty secondary effect of these fast healing ointments indeed, but they deserve a bit of nausea in exchange of recovering your wing, right?” Moonbeam asked.

Frost nodded and left the bin beside her. Looking back to her wing, she found it covered in white bandages again. Finally, she turned to the door the griffon had few moments ago left through.

“What’s the issue that griffon has with me?” Frost asked.

Moonbeam sighed as she woke up and floated the bin beside Frost away.

“He has issues with almost everypony, darling. He is a tough guy, but he is a bit frustrated with how things are going, and many times he just can’t control himself. It has to do nothing with you.” She answered , returning to the sofa. “Do you know who we are?”

Frost shook her head answering the mare’s question.

“Well… Explained briefly, we are a group that opposes the reign of Celestia over Equestria. During the last ten years, since Black Claw appeared, he has coordinated us and taught us, sending us into several missions to make rebellions arise across the country. Even if we succeeded and the awareness of the dictatorial regime Celestia ponies suffer arose among the population, she swiped our work out sending his vassals. Some well placed detentions end the fighting will of ponies pretty fast.” She stated, taking a sip from the coffee cup on the table.

“Among them, Crafty Tail is the most fearsome one. He is mad… completely mad. Only Gren had survived an interrogation from that pony. He is talented in crushing the will of ponies. He takes you and tortures you, and meanwhile, he sneaks inside your mind, looking for a single breach. And when he finds it, he presses so hard that your whole mind crushes. That’s why he is afraid of him, and not without reason. And he is chasing us. He has captured your friend, Crimson Zephyr, in an attempt to obtain information about Black Claw. Right now he is interrogating him inside the police station. This night will be the second he’s suffered from torture probably…”

“How could Crimson know anything about Black Claw that could interest that pony?” Frost asked, worried.

“He can’t. But Crafty Tail doesn’t know that. He will torture him until he is sure he will not tell him anything, and then he will send him to Canterlot for an extraction.”

“Extraction?” Frost asked confused

“Yeah… Deep inside the dungeons of Canterlot, there are some things that shouldn’t exist. One of them is the extraction chambers. There, ponies are just wiped of their identity, their memories absorbed and analysed by the unicorns of the royal guard, and then tossed away like rubbish.”

“That’s horrible… What will happen to Crimson if he gets to one of those chambers?”

“You don’t want to know…” the mare replied in a gloomy tone. Swiftly changing her expression, the mare reacted to Frost dismayed look.” But don’t worry, we will rescue him!” Moonbeam tried to say in a cheerily tone.

“But there’s one thing I don’t understand… Neither Crimson nor I have anything to do with your organisation… Why does he keep prosecuting us like criminals?” Frost asked confused.

Moonbeam stretched her hoof, touching Frost’s shoulder amicably.

“Because for Crafty Tail anypony that has met Black Claw once is a rebel. And for him, rebels are the worst kind of criminal. So, even if you are not linked to us directly nor collaborate with us, he still will prosecute you, until he gets you.”

Frost touched her chin meditatively. This meant her old life was over… Ever since Crimson left Manehattan, she had fought to be recognised, and now everything she had worked for, dreamed for or fought for vanished as dust blown away from her hooves. This realisation struck her hard, and her eyes soaked as she started to sob. Hiding her face behind her hooves, she let a single tar run over her cheek before drying it fast.

“What I’m going to do now…?” She thought aloud. She felt a hoof touching her shoulder again and turned her head to look at the mare that tried to calm her.

“Come with us! I know this may not be your fight. Perhaps you think that Celestia is a fair ruler that cares for all her subjects… But , if that was so, why are you here right now, wondering what will you do next?” she asked.

“This was your entire fault, not hers! If you hadn’t blown up the labs perhaps I could have spoken with that pony and recovered my old life!” Frost outraged.

“Don’t fool yourself, darling. That psycho would have caught you and tortured you for days, as he is doing with your friend right now. I’m offering you this, but you don’t have many other options really. You are not going to find the medical treatment you need outside a hospital, and once you go to one, you are doomed.”

Frost remained silent while she processed what the mare had told her. She knew she was right but… she couldn’t accept that her old live had vanished.

“What will happen now?” Frost asked, looking with her soaked eyes.

“We will leave Manehattan for a while, until things settle a little bit. Our next mission is in Stalliongrad, so tonight we will get a train there. After blowing the lab , we can’t stay here any longer. But first we must rescue your friend.” Moonbeam said while she floated her saddlebags from the hook near the door.

“And how will you do that? If Crimson is inside the Manehattan’s police station I doubt you will be able to do it. It would be getting inside the lion’s den.”

“It is... That’s why we will wait until tonight, when your friend is going to be moved to the Canterlot dungeons. A dear friend of mine from the police will give Yerith the route once they have chosen it and Yerith and Gren will plan the attack then.” She answered confidently.

“And us?”

“Darling, you are not in condition to help in such a task, and even though I’m not defenceless, I’m not inside this operative group to do such things as assault missions. So we are going to go to your flat and get you some of your equipment. That talent you’ve got with circuits is something that shall be useful, believe me.” She said as she got into the room where Frost slept not long ago.

Few moments later, Moonbeam floated Frost’s burnt and blackened saddlebags beside her and tossed them to the sofa where she sat. Frost turned around, looking for the zebra, who had disappeared as silently she came into the flat. Moonbeam opened the door of the flat and headed outside, far from being surprised by the sudden disappearance of the zebra. Picking her saddlebags and carefully placing them over her burnt haunches and bandaged haunches, Frost also headed to the door, still doubtful and afraid. But then, she realised what she would do. She would keep her own ambition. She would get recognised, one way or another…

Crimson hummed slightly as he stretched his sore body. His mouth tasted metallic, and it was dried. He could feel every single cut, burn and bruise that covered his body, yet the pain didn’t come from them. It came from the words of that dammed pony that still resounded inside his head.

“Coward…”

Crimson opened his eyes. He was leaning on his back, staring straight up. What he saw wasn’t the immutable whiteness of the interrogation room, but a mighty display of stars, unveiled as the new moon rose with them into the sky.

“Princess Luna… I didn’t love your night more than I do now…”

Crimson lay down for a few moments, suddenly noticing the smooth jolting of the surface on which he leaned. Sitting up, he turned his head and gazed around. Everything was dark, but among the darkness he recognised the shape of something he quite expected; cell bars. He was inside a cage.

Suddenly a light blinded him and the jolting stopped. When he finally adapted to the beam of light being pointed straight to his face, he could distinguish a cloaked shape in front of him. Once he took the light away from his face, Crimson eyes took their time to readjust to the darkness of the night. Under the starlight, he could distinguish under the cloak the metallic shine of the golden helmet. He was a Canterlot guard, but why was he escorting him, and where? Looking around again, Crimson noticed up to six more cloaked figures surrounding the wagon.

“Squad! Stop! In defensive formation!” Suddenly ordered the cloaked figure as he turned around to the other cloaked ponies. All at the same time, took off their attaries and picked with their right hoof a golden spear that hung from harnesses that held them on their backs. They silently closed the formation, raising their spears toward the darkness. The tense expressions of the guardsponies were barely seen under the starlight, but Crimson could see them.

Suddenly, a loud hiss followed by the thump of the fall of one of the guards shattered the silence reigning in the dark street. One of the guards approached the motionless corpse, and after turning it around, he gasped. Crimson could see the silhouette of an arrow stuck in the guardspony’s chest. After a few moments of silence another thump made them all turn their heads. Another guard had fallen to the floor, this one still alive, gasping and holding his bleeding neck with his forehoofs. Crimson looked into the darkness surrounding them, just to see a cloaked figure fading into the darkness of the night.

The guardsponies started to glance nervously one another, until the guardspony that stood in front of Crimson raised his voice.

“Rebuild the formation! Now!”

Reacting to the angry voice of their commander, the pegasi closed the circle once again, leaving their companions corpses lying on the floor.

Dragging himself and leaning against the bars of the back of the cell, Crimson looked to the guards with a mix of pity and grief, as he knew what would happen next.

Another loud hiss broke the silence of the night and Crimson felt some hot liquid spattering over his coat. With a gurgle, the commander of the guardsponies fell to the floor. His blood soaked the interior of the cell, as the arrow had simply gone through his neck, ignoring any armour, spilling blood all around.

The remaining guardsponies looked each other with terrified expressions. They doubtfully looked at Crimson, who just returned their glance, and with a smirk on his swollen face stood up and approached them. Leaning on the side of the cage where the guards had formed the defensive circle, he just stared at the guards silently.

“If I were you… I would run.” Crimson said to the terrorized guards from the shadows of the cell.

Suddenly, a high pitched screech came from high in the air. Diving in middle of the four surprised guards, an imposing golden and silver figure landed. Under the starlight, Crimson recognised Gren, who wore a silver armour over his plumage.

With a quick gesture, Gren grabbed one of the frozen up guards and held him up from his neck. The spear that the guard carried fell to the floor with a metallic ringing as the sword the griffon held effortlessly went through his body. A slight sadistic smirk appeared on the griffon’s face as he drew the sword from the motionless corpse.

The remaining guards raised their spears and charged toward the griffon, who tossed the inert body away and just flew up in the cool air of the night, avoiding their charge. Swiftly, the guards spread their wings and with powerful flaps raised their bodies from the floor, following the griffon with revengeful looks.

Crimson observed mesmerized the shadows that battled over the starry sky. The griffon graciously dodged every hit of the guards’ spears with accurate feints and solid sword moves that sent the guards back to the ground. It was almost like a dance where the pegasi were clumsy dancing partners, who were tossed away with gracious and polite movements by the indifferent griffon. The illusion faded away with a new screech, as Gren’s sword drew a wide arch in the air, and with a pained scream, one of the guards fell to the ground.

Crimson didn’t react to the loud thump that produced the armoured body in its fall, nor to the silent hooded shadow that approached the cage. He had only eyes for the griffon fighting the two remaining pegasi, who fearsomely approached the griffon attempting to stab him with their spears.

The hooded figure just bent down and got her snout inside the pouch of the dead guardsponies’ commander, extracting the keys of the cage. Noticing its presence, Crimson stared at the shadow. Under the hood he distinguished the striped snout of Yerith, who carefully approached the keyring to the lock and started calmly looking for the correct key.

None of them seemed to notice the golden armoured pony who struggled to stand up. A bloody trail on his side revealed the point where Gren had mercilessly cut his white and spotless wing that rested motionless on the floor nearby. Gazing around, the wounded guard found his golden spear, and with a painful expression, he raised it up holding it with his right hoof. Stealthily he started to approach the oblivious zebra that kept struggling with the keyring inside her mouth.

Crimson saw the zebra’s ear twitch under her hood, but nothing more revealed the zebra noticing the stealthy approach of the guardspony. Crimson remained still as he saw the zebra elegantly dodging the charge of the guardspony jumping acrobatically and rolling over her side. Finally landing on her hindlegs, she stood up, becoming an imposing black figure surrounded by a slight halo of starlight, her hood retreated revealing her golden necklaces and her braided striped grey hair. From her hooflets protruded a couple of short blades, already covered in the blood of one of the guards. She defiantly stood, emotionlessly observing the wounded guardspony.

At first hesitant, the guard raised his spear and pointed it directly to Yerith, who kept the same standing position. Both stared silently, not daring to move and shatter the motionless picture. Finally another pained cry snapped the guardspony back to reality and, raising his spear, he charged toward the zebra.

Crimson eyes widened as he saw the Royal guard quickly approaching the reactionless zebra. With a victorious smirk, the guardspony pounced over the zebra with his spear leading the charge. In the last moment, flexing her hindlegs, the zebra propelled herself over the jumping pegasus. The guardspony barely had time to gasp as one of the blades got through his uncovered neck. With a deaf thump, the body of the guard finally fell to the floor, and with no sound at all, the zebra landed on her hindlegs again. Crimson stared back to zebra, only to find the same emotionless coldness. Not even her eyes showed any emotion. Crimson had expected regret, anger, even sadistic pleasure, but the zebra’s expression revealed nothing. If she felt one of those emotions, it was for her and her alone.

Crimson shivered as the zebra slowly approached the bleeding stallion and took the helmet of the dying guardspony off. Silently she sat over his back and started to gently touch his back with her left forehoof while she raised the right in the air, the blade shining under the starlight, yet stained in blood. After some agonizing moments, she sank the blade into the guardspony’s spine. With a couple of convulsions the guardspony finally exhaled his last breath and the night turned silent.

The sound of flapping wings brought forward the arrival of the armoured griffon, who heavily landed few moments later nearby the cage. Crimson stared at the imposing armoured figure as it approached and took his helmet off.

“Yerith, would you hurry up a bit? Those guards escaped, so we don’t have much time to lose.” He said looking to the zebra’s efforts to fir the remaining key into the keyhole. Finally, with a click, the cage’s door opened.

“Ughh… Finally! You, get out of there!”

Crimson slowly stood up inside the cage. Under the inpatient Gren’s glance, he slowly got out of the cage. His legs felt sore and he was tired, but still he stood up and held the glare of the griffon. Looking down at him, the griffon drew a disdainful gesture on his face.

“I still don’t understand why he commanded us to rescue you… I don’t see anything special in a wounded and broken pony.”

Crimson angrily stared at the griffon. He was an imposing figure. Raising like a tower on his hind paws , Gren’s armoured body resembled to several old pictures from past times, when the belligerence of the griffons had caused wars and chaos. Gathering the remaining forces he had, Crimson took a step forward and approached the griffon.

“Give me that sword and let us see who gets wounded and broken…” Crimson answered defyingly.

“Hehehe, perhaps he likes how stupid you are…anyway, you and I will have the opportunity to prove that, promise. But now we are leaving Manehattan before those guards come back with reinforcements.”

Yerith had already silently started to walk toward the darkness of a nearby alley, ignoring the exchange Gren and Crimson had. With a fast move, Gren grabbed Crimson, who slightly grunted in response, and placed it over his shoulders.

“I hope you bear cold well, we are going to have a nice holiday in Stalliongrad” said the griffon, flapping his wings and flying into the starry sky of the night.