Blue light streamed in through the ice cold bars of Iron Fate's room at whinnyham asylum. Iron Fate himself sat there, in the middle of the stone floor. ignoring the steel framed bed in the corner of his room, wrapped in his blanket staring at the face of the moon, thinking that someday, he'd like to go there. someday... Some day when he got out of This STUPID cage! He stood up suddenly, throwing his blanket across the room. It landed in a pile not to far away. As he stood there angrily looking at it, and remembered the house for the thousandth time, the house, his house. The one he had burnt to the ground. That was 3 years ago, it seemed like forever, each day he cared less and less about it, his mother, father, and sisters growing less and less important in his mind. As if the memories of them were being scattered in the wind along with the ashes of the house. He sighed, walking to the bed and falling onto it. He lay there on his back, limbs spread out as He drifted of to sleep.
He was here again, the place he liked to call "the stringy". His wings flapped noiselessly, brushing up against so many different colors of string suspended in mid air, taught tight, seemingly endless in both directions. The silent gusts of wind from his wings blew the looser strings around just a bit. As he flew he look down. As he moved his head, he saw that floating along in front of him was a pair of large, jagged, metal scissors. Surprised at his new discovery he stopped flying and just floated there for a moment, looking around. Then he saw it, a dark gray thread. He flapped towards it, guiding the scissors over it and using his hooves to close the blades. The string didn't just fall apart with the light shuffle he expected. Instead, the string shattered and let out the sound of grinding metal. The pieces fell below, into the abyss. He waited a moment, expecting to hear the noise of them hitting the ground. But he heard nothing
He awoke with a start, the pair of scissors being the first thing he saw, them resting on the pillow next to his head. He sat up in bed, as he looked up. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. The bars in the window, had broken. He sat there for a moment, staring. Staring at the twisted metal that had kept him in his cell all these years, finally broken. A surge of excitement flooded his body as he launched himself Through the open window, flapping his wings as he soared above the forest outside of the asylum. He turned and looked behind him. Searchlights swept everywhere, and shouts could be heard as the guards inspected the twisted metal in his (former) cell window. He could see the world, the searchlights, the sky, and the trees. He looked into the night sky, and saw the moon, for the first time in years without bars
