When Swift woke the following the day, the sun hadn’t risen yet. His head was buzzing, and all he wanted was to get back to sleep. After having rolled over in his bed multiple times without falling asleep again though, he sighed, got up, and washed himself.

Swift tended to get up early and while he often wished he could sleep in instead, he also enjoyed taking strolls around Marberc when the city was still quiet and dim. But as much as he liked the early morning, the night was were he was in his element. He enjoyed the darkness, not because it concealed him, but because he felt he was in control of his life for once. At night, in the soft light of the moon, Swift’s worries of the day vanished into nothingness. Debts, food, shelter, problems with the guards or gangs, they all became irrelevant. No outside influences dared to disturb him, no ponies caught his eyes, and no sounds distracted his ears. There were just him and the city, exposing its secrets for him to discover.

“Ow!”

Swift had forgotten that he still had a broken nose. He would have to get it tended to soon. He had no idea by whom though and how he would pay for it.

Whatever, i’m still more handsome than most.

When he was finished cleaning himself up, he put on his green cloak against the bitter cold, which was seeping into the room from outside, and then made sure that the few things he was carrying with him in his saddle bags were still there.

Before he fled out of Marberc, he took with him cutlery, a water skin, an oil lamp, a small tent, a blanket, and his thievery toolkit. The latter was his most precious possession, and he always carried it with him when he was on the road. It was unlikely to get stolen when he wasn’t home, but he – unusual for him – didn’t want to take any risks.

Seeing that everything was still where it should be, he closed the bags, put them on, and went out of the room. When he reached the taproom, he could see that, beside the owner of the inn, he was the first one there. He walked over to the bar, ordered some food to be taken on the road, paid, and left the building.

The outside world was brilliantly white. Fresh, untouched snow was lying everywhere. The road was still passable, but beyond it the snow was thick enough to hinder movement considerably. The road by the inn was surrounded by leafless trees, a lot of them dead, never to carry leaves ever again, and the sky above was a flat gray as far as the eye could see.

While snow could be problematic for Swift due to its properties that complicated stealthy maneuvers, he couldn’t help but also be fond of it. He liked the sound it made when you stepped on it and how it made the world look untainted and new.

However, too much of a good thing was still too much. It hadn’t been snowing since the day before or for a few weeks or even for a few months.

By the time Swift stepped out of the inn that day, it had been winter continuously for roughly three years.

This wasn’t a normal phenomenon and neither was it a good one. The trees had started to die, as did some of the animals, including a lot of ponies, who could not persevere such a long winter.

The different pony races, earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns, blamed each other either for what was happening or for not doing anything to improve the situation. The earth ponies were blamed for hoarding food while pegasi and unicorns were blamed for being directly responsible for the weather vie their weather manipulation skills and magic respectively. The relations between the races had never been as tense as during these times. However, every race was dependent on the others. The earth ponies were the ones that grew most of the food, the pegasi were able to hold back the storms at least a little bit, and the unicorns magically brought forth day and night. Were it not for these dependencies, war would have broken out years ago.

But as time went by, and with the growing desperation among the leaders Chancellor Pudding Head, Commander Hurricane, and Princess Platinum, as well as the distrust of the general population towards the other races, that precarious peace faltered.

None of these worries were of immediate concern to Swift though. He was just content that he had enough money and food to get by as well as his four walls to keep him relatively warm.

He started his journey to the north.

*

Nothing of interest happened during the next two days, during which Swift followed the road at day, bought some provisions at the inns along the road, and rested a few meters beside the road in his small tent at night. The nights weren’t exactly comfortable, but Swift managed to get some sleep to get him moving again the next day.

On the third day of his travel, he ascended a hill and, upon reaching the top, laid eyes on Marberc a few kilometers in the distance. The city lay on a huge, rocky hill, which, on its highest point, was about fifty meters higher than the surrounding land. The city itself was large, easily holding a few ten thousand ponies. It was roughly round in shape and surrounded by a high and sturdy, gray stone wall. Guard towers were placed evenly along that wall, and large wooden gates led into the city. Steep pathways in turn led up to those gates. The city’s old castle keep could be easily seen at the highest point of the city, overlooking the surrounding land.

Before the city had been fields and farms, but a lot of those were now abandoned and often not visible anymore under the snow. It was thanks to a lot of trading with neighboring countries that the ponies in this city still had enough to eat. Especially countries in the far south hadn’t been impacted by the storms as much and therefore could grow food more easily. It had been one of chancellor Pudding Head’s greatest accomplishments to maintain these more or less one-sided trade relationships for so long.

Swift didn’t stop to take in the view, but quickly descended the hill again towards Marberc. That evening, he decided not to set up camp, because he wanted to reach the city as soon as possible. He figured if he walked fast, he could reach it within the night. In these troubled times the guards were ordered to keep travelers out at night unless they were important. However, Swift wasn’t planning on using the main gates anyway.

When he was only about half a kilometer away from the city, the sun had long settled under the horizon. The moon was full and bright and cast a cold light on the land. The naked trees threw clearly defined shadows, and the snow was glowing, almost unnaturally so. Now and then, when a chilly breeze swept over the haunted land, the trees’ shadows would stir and creep around on the snow, entwining with each other as if to take counsel with low, creaking voices.

It was then that Swift reached a crossing. The path before him led to the city, but there was another one to his left. That road led to the west and went by several towns before reaching the border to the unicorn kingdom Anhorelia roughly fifty kilometers from where Swift was standing.

Swift was about to resume his travel when a faint sound stopped him in his tracks. His ears perked up, and he didn’t move a muscle. He listened closely. Yes, there it was. It was the faintest of rumblings, hard to define and just barely audible, but it was there. And it came closer.

Swift’s eyes searched the surroundings, his muscles tensed, ready to fight or flight, but he didn’t see anything. After a few more seconds, the rumblings became even louder and now Swift could finally identify them. They were the sounds of hooves galloping on the western road.

Swift didn’t waste any time and started to remove his tracks in the snow with his tail as fast and as thoroughly as possible. He walked towards the trees beside the road, all the while removing his tracks behind him. Behind a thick tree, he quickly dug a hole with his hooves and settled down in it. He took the snow he had thrown to the side and poured it over him, rubbing it into his cloak. When he was sure he had covered most of his clothing, he held his head near to the ground, didn’t take his eyes from the crossing, and slowed down his breathing until it was barely audible even from a few centimeters away.

He waited.

The galloping came closer. Swift could now make out a single figure moving towards him on the western road. The closer it came, the more details he was able to make out. It was a pony – a unicorn even – in a white cloak. It carried a saddle bag, which held something round. The pony looked back over its shoulders now and then while at the same time trying to keep its eyes on the road before it. It was fast but it stumbled a lot. One time it fell, and it took a while for it to get up again.

The last few meters to the crossing, the pony slowed down more and more before slumping down in the snow with a groan, completely exhausted.

Swift just waited. The sounds of galloping hadn’t yet stopped.

The pony stirred and looked up, searching his surroundings frantically. He closed his eyes, and his horn flared for a few moments. Then, his eyes shot open, and he stared directly in Swift’s direction.

Swift didn’t move.

The other pony opened his mouth and spoke with a croaky voice. “You, over there, come here, quick!”

No reaction from Swift.

The pony looked over his shoulder back the road he came, then quickly stared at Swift again. “Please, i know you’re there. I need your help.”

Swift’s thoughts moved quickly in his head. It took only a moment, then he made a decision. He leapt up and dashed towards the pony as quickly as possible. He knew if he wanted to help the stranger, he had to act swiftly.

While he was still galloping, the stranger reached in his bag, sounding an alarm in Swift’s head. The pony didn’t take out a weapon though. Instead he produced a clear orb, seemingly made out of glass or crystal, which had a murky, gray haze inside.

The stranger spoke again. “Take this! Take it and run! Keep it safe! Take it to Astratitus! He lives in Emedula.” He pushed the orb towards Swift.

Swift just blinked. Emedula? The unicorn city?

The other pony noticed Swift’s confusion. “There’s no time to explain! Take it and leave! Find Astratitus in Emedula! He’ll know what to do.”

Swift saw something moving from the corner of his eye. He looked up, down the road to the west. There, roughly hundred meters from the crossing, four ponies in brown cloaks came galloping towards the two. Swords, which flashed in the moonlight, were held up by magic in front of them.

Without hesitation, Swift grabbed the pony in front of him and tried to heave him up.

The stranger, however, shook his head and pushed him away. “No! Leave me be! They’d find us and kill us both.” With a stern frown he looked Swift in the eyes. “They must not have it! Promise me!”

Swift looked up to the pursuers one more time to see that they were now merely fifty meters or less away from them.

He looked back down at the pony, – “I can not make any promises.” – took the crystal orb, and put it in his bag.

The other nodded sternly. “Now go!”

Swift turned to the north and ran. He galloped faster than he’d ever galloped before. The pursuers were likely to have arrived at the crossing by now, but Swift didn’t look back. He couldn’t overhear the voices though.

“The other one, get him!”

Swift kept galloping, still not looking back. He could hear the pursuers behind him, closing in. Swift was fast and agile, but he didn’t have the best endurance. It also didn’t help that he was exhausted from the long travel that day.

Damn it, they run like the devil himself is on their tail!

The trees became sparse around him as he left the forest and the city came into view a few hundred meters before him. The pursuers were now close on his tail.

The loud boom startled him. It was followed by a sizzle in the air. A yelp came from behind, and there was the sound of something – or someone – hitting the ground.

One of the pursuers spoke. “What the–”

Another boom echoed from behind, followed again by a sizzle. Another object hit the ground.

The pursuers were now directly behind Swift, and he could hear their strained breathing. “Stay with this one! I’ll deal with the other.”

Swift dared to look back over his shoulder. There was still one pony on his tail, almost close enough to reach him with the sword he held up with his magic. He had a determined look on his face. Behind him he could see another pony, galloping in the opposite direction.

Another boom could be heard, and before Swift knew what happened, a red bolt raced with incredible speed towards the pony that galloped back the road they came. The pony jumped to the side and the blast flew past him,

now heading directly towards Swift.

Swift missed his opportunity to react and could only brace himself. There was an intense heat. Swift felt like his coat was on fire and yelled out instinctively. As the bolt flew past him, leaving a sizzle in the air, Swift could feel the snow under his hooves melt almost instantly. He completely lost his grip and skidded along the ground. He caught his pursuer from the corner of his eye, who was now also skidding uncontrollably. Then, Swift tripped and fell. The pursuer followed his example, landing directly on top of Swift.

Swift acted in an instant and pushed himself up with all of his might. The other pony fell off of him. Swift threw himself on him and punched him in the face as hard as he could.

He punched again and again and again, alternating hooves to attack with with each blow. His opponent’s eyelids became heavier and heavier.

Another punch and then another. Blood was sprinkled on Swift’s hooves now. His opponent, he realized, was unconscious.

He punched him one last time, letting out an exhausted groan. He glanced back down the road he came. No red bolts were in sight, but two stallions engaged each other in close combat. There were auras of magic in the air as swords were swung and hit each other with loud, metallic clangs.

Swift shook his head to get rid of the drowsiness threatening to overcome him and pushed himself up on unsteady legs. He dragged himself towards the city, upwards a slope, which was the beginning of the hill the city was built on. The sounds of fighting behind him became quieter the farther he moved forward.

Just a few more meters.

Before him, a steep path led up to one of the city’s gates in a zig-zag pattern. Swift ignored it and headed towards a grove that was situated in a small basin to the right of the path. He entered the undergrowth and, after a few minutes, reached a large rock wall. A frozen stream came out of the rock at the base of the wall. The opening was big enough for a pony to fit through, but it was sealed with a rusty metal grating. A padlock hung from it.

Swift reached in one of his bags and took out a key. This key saved my ass so many times. It’s not even funny anymore.

Overcoming the obstacle, he entered the small tunnel, making sure to lock the grating behind him again. Then, he just stood there completely still, looking and listening for any signs that he was being followed. There was the odd rustling of animals in the snow, and somewhere a bit of snow fell off a tree as the quiet whisper of an icy breeze increased in volume and died off again.

With a relieved sigh, he took out the oil lamp from his bag, ignited it, and walked into the darkness with a lowered head.

What have i gotten myself into this time?

Author's Note

MORE fun trivia:
‘Anhorelia’ comes from the anglo-saxon word ‘anhorn’ which of course means ‘unicorn’.

‘Emedula’ comes from the anglo-saxon word ‘medu’ which means ‘field’.