Chains and Ladders

“I’ve already told you I don’t know anything!” Melek had pleaded with his captors for the past two hours, to no avail. He was seated in a makeshift interrogation room inside the palace, with his two golden clad interrogators opposite him. Both of his forelegs were cuffed to chair, and his back legs had been cuffed together. A small metal ring had been fitted around his horn, to inhibit his magic.

The guards regarded him with blank expressions. Melek quivered as one of them removed his sword with magic and inspected the blade, as if searching for imperfections. The other guard smiled at him.

“We want to help you. But we need to know her plan.” the smiling pony spoke languidly. His partner snorted.

“This worm’s useless” he sneered “just toss him in the dungeon for the rest of his miserable life.” Melek recoiled in horror as the smiling guard shook his head.

“He’s a good pony. Right Mel?” the smiling pony asked Melek. Flicking his eyes between the pair, Melek nodded.

“I’m a good pony.” Melek insisted “But I don’t know anything about her plan!”

“You expect us to believe that?” the irate guard hissed, slamming his blade into the table with enough force to imbed it there.

“You were her personal slave” the smiling one shot a glare at his partner “surely you must have seen, or heard something.”

In truth, Melek had seen the Sultana conversing with a scary looking stranger before, and he thought he had heard something about revenge being tossed around, but he would never betray the Sultana.It wasn't exactly prime information, but he didn't want to divulge even that. Recalling his Janissary training, Melek mentally encased his mind in steel.

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek responded evenly as the guards sighed.

“Just our luck; the stallion’s a former Janissary.” the irate guard muttered. “We never get anything outta his kind.” He looked at Melek with a wicked twinkle in his eye. “At least, not without torturing ‘em first.”

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek replied, this time in Arabic. The smiling guard bit his lip in frustration.

“Come on,” he pleaded with Melek “we freed you. Don’t you owe us?”

“Owe you?” Melek looked at the guards in disgust. “You took me from my happy life and made me a traitor.” Melek almost spat out the words.

“But now you’re free to do anything.” the smiling guard protested.

“Am I? Because it sure doesn’t seem like I am.” Melek laughed hollowly. “I’ve just traded one set of chains for another!” He shook his shackles for emphasis.

The irate guard smacked him across the face with his left hoof, and would’ve continued had his partner not held him back with magic. Bleeding a little from his nose, Melek looked at the offender with hatred in his eyes.

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek locked eyes with his opposite, who drew his sword menacingly.

“You want out of chains? Well,” the guard leaned forward as his comrade released him with a sigh of resignation “just let me cut off your legs, and then you’ll never be chained again!” The guard drew his blade across the front of Melek’s right foreleg, drawing a small trickle of blood as Melek struggled not to flinch.

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek closed his eyes, awaiting the next cut. To his surprise, none came. Instead, he saw the guard drop his sword and look at it in disgust.

“I can’t do this.” the irate guard shook his head as his compatriot nodded. “I’m not a torturer.” The smiling guard pointed him to the door, which he proceeded to use to exit.

“Sorry bout that,” the smiling guard apologized “we haven’t actually tortured anyone before, and Gleam hasn’t got that good of a stomach.” After a moment, the smiling guard added “Though he did play a heck of a bad cop.”

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek replied cautiously. The smiling guard chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, nice job.” he waved his hoof in small circles. “He’s all yours, Princess.” he called towards the door as he got up and walked out.

Twilight Sparkle strode in, fixing Melek with an emotionless stare. Melek felt his heart drop; hadn’t Twilight believed him?

“Tell me everything Mel.” Twilight demanded.

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek replied, unsure how to react. Twilight picked up the table between them with her magic and tossed it aside. It struck the wall with a bang and fell apart.

“Please Mel. The whole truth.” Twilight’s expression remained neutral.

“Melek Kul, 9th orta, Janissary.” Melek swallowed nervously.

“I’m sorry Mel.” Twilight closed her eyes. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t…” she trailed off as the sword that the guard had discarded earlier floated toward him.

Melek shook violently as the blade’s flat edge kissed his throat. The blade then spun away, thrown into the corner, as his shackles suddenly opened.

“Twilight?” Melek inspected his legs carefully, as if to make sure he was free.

“Go.” Twilight responded without opening her eyes. “You’ve earned freedom.” A few tears streamed from her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Melek approached her cautiously.

“I just wanted to help!” Twilight opened her eyes suddenly and threw the chairs across the room. “I just wanted to help…” she mumbled as she slumped to the ground.

Melek sat down next to her and fidgeted for several seconds before he embraced her with his forelegs. She leaned into his hug and cried for several seconds before composing herself. They separated and stood up.

“I didn’t even think about what you really wanted.” Twilight sighed. “I just figured you’d want to come with me to Ponyville, and be with other unicorns. But this isn’t what you wanted, is it?”

“It was not my first choice.” Melek answered truthfully. “But I’m glad I met you, Twilight.” He smiled at Twilight, who weakly returned the gesture. “I think I can give it a try.”

“You don’t have to.” Twilight’s smile vanished. “You’d be more comfortable at your real home.”

“This is my home.” Melek declared, stamping his hoof.

“But you’re not ready to turn against her, are you?” Twilight looked away.

“I honestly don’t know much.” Melek tried to assure her. “Other than keeping an eye on you, she didn’t let me in on much. She did have some shadowy partner, but…”

“You mean Daemon?” Twilight interrupted. Melek flinched. He didn't recognize that name, but it was awful close to another name for the djinn.

“I don’t know that name.” Melek shrugged.

“Melek Taus doesn’t publicize his existence.” Twilight mused. “So that’s all you know?”

“That’s everything.” Melek replied stoically. He sent a silent apology to the Sultana; Twilight had managed to get under his skin.

“Do you know how difficult it is to translate Daevish?” Daemon asked the Sultana, who was pacing back and forth as she regarded the bronze machine.

“Too hard for you?” Gulbahar sneered. Daemon rolled his eyes.

“Once I’ve deciphered the ritual,” Daemon grinned gleefully as he turned his attention back to the leather bound tome on the table “I will give you full control, as promised. Then you march to Saddle Arabia.”

“And kill Taus.” the Sultana smirked.

“And kill Taus as you know him.” Daemon nodded, absorbed in his book.

“Then what?” Gulbahar demanded. “You haven’t told me what happens after that.”

“Don’t worry,” Daemon chuckled under his breath “I have it all planned out.”

The bronze machine let off a sudden bout of steam as Daemon scribbled down a small portion of the Daevish script. With a sudden realization, he set to finishing the translation. So that was how it was done… interesting. And conducive to his plans, as well.

“Come here, Sultana.” Daemon commanded. The Sultana opened her mouth, as if to retort, but instead found herself walking over.

“What?” she asked as Daemon smiled softly and drew his black dagger. Gulbahar struggled against his control, but instead she arched her neck to present him with a clean target.

“Just stay still. It’ll be over soon.” Daemon drew the dagger across her exposed throat, splattering her blood onto the paper. With a gurgle, the Sultana fell down. Daemon laughed as he continued with the ritual.