Everwinter

by Gnarrkhaz

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Violence, Narcotics, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Romance, Original Character
Length: 47483

A thief finds himself in a race for a seemingly messianic mare destined to safe the world. But will she be able to end an endless winter?

Once upon a time, long before the peaceful rule of Celestia and before ponies discovered the beautiful land of Equestria, ponies did not know harmony. A seemingly endless winter burdened the land back then, covering it in ice and snow. Survival was the ponies’ primary concern, but they did not stand together in the face of demise. Self-interest, mistrust, and downright enmity dominated their thoughts and often friendship was only a ruse, a method to use others to one’s own benefits.

Swift Sleight, a competent yet resigned thief, carved out his existence during these times. It took only a few prophetic words to throw his life in turmoil, sending him on a way to find new companions and to safe a mysterious mare that, if the prophecy were to be believed, would play a vital role for the future of all ponies. But would she be able to end an endless winter?

Also, would Swift be able to get to her before the force that sought her for more mischievous reasons?

Published 2015-10-10 17:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-02-11 01:01:56 UTC

1 bC

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system or maybe he just didn’t care anymore, but Swift Sleight didn’t even attempt to dodge the hoof rushing directly towards his face. Instead, he greeted it with a smug and stupid grin. He figured that would enrage his opponent even more.

The hoof hit him squarely on the muzzle. It gave off a nasty crack, and his head was jerked to the side violently. Loud cheering and laughing from the surrounding crowd filled the room. Swift felt blood gathering in his mouth and spat it on the wooden taproom floor.

Swift Sleight was an earth pony. His coat and mane were brown, though his mane had a darker shade. His cutie mark was an opened padlock. Overall, his appearance was inconspicuous, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Ponies tended to not pay much attention to him or simply overlooked him, which overall came in useful. A lot of the time, Swift didn’t want to be noticed. The only thing that broke through the theme of inconspicuousness were his turquoise eyes. The mind wanted to define the color as either blue or green, but could never decide conclusively.

The pony in front of Swift wore a grimace of anger and glee and waved both of his front hooves in front of him while bouncing lightly on his hindlegs. “Come on, get up! I’m not done with you yet.”

Swift did so, right before another punch followed. This time, Swift knew better and ducked. The hoof flew past his head and caused his opponent to lose his balance. Swift used the opportunity and dashed beside him. He kicked his hindlegs into the pony’s side, causing his opponent to yell out and fall onto the floor. Swift moved to get some space between him and the pony before he had the chance to get up again.

These kinds of situations were nothing new to Swift. This fight wasn’t his first, and it wouldn’t be his last. He grew up and lived in a poor part of Marberc, an important city in the earth pony realm Wrühtlant, so he was used to tough surroundings. Furthermore, he wasn’t exactly known for his luck. In fact, luck had lately abandoned him for good, it seemed.

It had all started with him taking a loan from a local crime boss named Easy Manage. He had needed the bits to pay his rent for his apartment in Marberc. After having paid the landlord though, someone had stolen the rest of the money. The irony of that made him laugh on the inside.

Another attack, a full-on charge this time. Swift’s opponent roared and galloped blindly towards him. Swift just grinned. That attack was easy to evade, so Swift decided to let his foe come nearer before jumping to the side. Then, directly before the contact, he did just that...

only to find the barmaid standing directly before him.

She had a plate in one of her hooves, and several mugs of beer were situated on top of it. Swift’s eyes grew wide as her horrified face came closer.

The heavy impact caused her to release a breathy ‘oof’, and both of them fell ruggedly onto the floor. The mugs flew in all directions, releasing their contents on the floor, tables, and ponies surrounding the two as well as themselves. The guests around them yelled in irritation, though Swift could also hear some ponies laughing loudly.

Swift hoped he hadn’t injured the barmaid and wanted to ask her if she was okay, but her reaction ensured him just that. She waved her hooves wildly at him. “Get OFF of me, you dirty scoundrel!”

“Oops, my mistake.” He tried his characteristic smirk.

It didn’t have the desired effect.

She glared at him furiously before hitting him squarely on the side of the head. The impact sent him off of her and onto his back on the wet, beer covered floor. His vision went foggy and his hearing became muffled, but not enough to conceal the ponies that were gathered around him and laughed uproariously at his expense.

After his money had been stolen, he had tried to gain it back with his usual, daily shell game on one of the markets. He had earned a few bits, but it wouldn’t have sufficed to pay back the loan. On top of that, the servant of a young, rich boy had noticed Swift cheating at the game and had told his master. The boy, who had turned out to be the son of the local baron residing in Marberc, had immediately called the city guards and demanded Swift’s arrest. It had been Swift’s speed and fast reflexes that had gotten him out of the situation. Problems with the guards had been nothing new to Swift, but this time they had been serious about getting him. It was a minor offense to rip off random ponies on the street, but do the same to a member of nobility... The obvious thing to do had been to leave the city for a while and wait until things cooled off again.

As Swift came to his senses again, he noticed how the ponies around him took a few steps back as their focus shifted to another pony beyond Swift’s vision.

Swift stood up shakily, shook his head to get rid of the drowsiness, and held up his hooves in front of his face, ready to fight. He sighed. “Want some more?”

A slight grin crept into the furious expression on his opponent’s face. “You bet!”

The pony rushed forward again. This time, Swift opted for one of his specialties: Running away. He spun around and started galloping, his opponent being closely on his tail. When Swift reached a tall, round table, he slid over it and landed on the ground on the other side. He turned around and glanced back over the table.

His opponent was stopped in his tracks by the maneuver, apparently being unable to imitate it, but he quickly regained himself and started circling the table. Swift reacted and went the same way, keeping the distance between him and his opponent the same. When the other realized what Swift was doing, he tried going the other way, but sure enough Swift turned around and went the same way.

The angry expression on the pony’s face intensified. “Stop fooling around and get over here, you coward!”

“Sorry, not interested.”

The two resumed the game a few more moments before the pony finally had enough of it. He climbed onto the table and rushed directly towards Swift. Instinctively, Swift put his hooves under the table. He pushed upwards with all of his might, releasing a yell of exertion. Since the other pony had not yet reached the middle of the table, the feat actually succeeded. The table flipped over, throwing the surprised pony off of it and onto the ground.

Swift lost sight of him due to the table top obstructing his view now, but he heard how he got back on his hooves almost immediately. Swift was running out of ideas. There was one more left though.

He frowned and concentrated, blocking out the noise in the taproom to focus on the sounds he wanted to hear. Which way did his opponent take? It didn’t take long for his well-trained ears to perceive the subtle detail. Right! He didn’t waste any time. He leapt towards the right edge of the table, sliding with his hindlegs in front.

And not a moment too soon.

As his hooves slid beyond the table, they instantly met his opponent’s. The pony gasped in surprise as his hindlegs rose into the air. Then, his forehead hit the edge of the table in front of him with a loud thump.

Swift cringed, but quickly leapt up, ready to grapple his foe should he try to get up again. All the pony managed though was a groan before his body slumped to the ground, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

With a sigh of relief, Swift walked over to the table the pony knocked himself out on and grabbed one of the mugs standing on it.

As much as Swift wanted to not think about it and instead just drink his money away and play around with the other guests of the inn, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from his current predicament. He was running low on money, and the city is where the bits were. But even then, it was doubtful that he could still earn his money by cheating at shell games on the market in Marberc. His encounter with the baron’s son had surely been much talked about gossip lately, and people would sooner or later recognize him as being a fraud. Luckily, Swift wasn’t a one-trick pony. He had some additional talents that he used now and then to earn a little extra. Their application came with a significant amount of risk, but it always paid off. Literally. He wondered if at least the guards’ motivation to hunt him down had died down by now. He didn’t raise his hopes though, considering the influence the baron’s son must have had.

There was no way around it: He had to get back to Marberc tomorrow.

Having been absent-minded for a few moments, he finally took a look into the mug he was holding. It was empty.

“Just my luck!”

*

As was to be expected, Swift had to help clean up the mess that he partially was responsible for. He didn’t mind though. It gave him something to do. Despite his profession as a thief and swindler, he had never refused to do respectable work. He did some minor jobs in Marberc when the opportunity arose, but he had never gotten the chance to learn a proper job. And it hadn’t been for lack of trying. Bad fortune always seemed to follow him wherever he went. That night at the inn was no different.

And so, he wasn’t surprised when some of the guests came to him and demanded the money Swift owed them for spilling their drinks. Having had enough trouble for one night, he gave in and paid them off. Unfortunately, that left him with not enough money to rent a room for the night.

At least it saves me the embarrassment asking for one after the mess i’ve caused.

Swift resumed his work when suddenly the front door of the taproom opened, letting in the howling, ice cold wind from outside. It was late at night, and most guests had already gone to bed, so the remaining ponies in the taproom curiously glanced towards the door, wondering who could enter at so late an hour.

A pony walked in and closed the door behind him. He shook himself thoroughly to get rid of all the snow he was covered with. One big saddle bag hung from each of his sides. A sheathed sword hung from his left side, and a shield was strapped to his back. He wore wool boots and a sturdy green cloak, which enveloped his body almost entirely. There was one thing though that he couldn’t obscure with it: His horn.

This garnered the interest of everyone in the taproom even more, who now stared at the newcomer intently and in some instances even talked to the other guests under their breaths.

Swift was no less interested. A unicorn here in this dump? Apart from traders in the big cities and borderlands as well as the odd diplomat to keep up the fragile relations between countries, ponies normally remained with their own kind, in their own homelands.

Marberc, which was a few days away by hoof, was a big and important city and was therefore visited regularly by outsiders. It wasn’t too odd for one of these outsiders to reside in an inn nearby. However, this outsider was a unicorn.

Everyone knew that unicorns were arrogant, uptight, and overall thought of themselves as better as earth ponies or pegasi. To them, respectability was determined only by magic prowess, and the less powerful you were, the less you were worth in their eyes. It was unthinkable for one of them to enter an establishment such as this.

He must be really desperate for a room because of the snow storm outside, if he decided to enter a remote inn full of drunken earth ponies in the middle of the night. That, or he’s really powerful.

After taking a look around the room, the pony walked to a free, round table in the corner of the room and sat down on a heap of straw in front of it. He put away his bags and weapons and pulled off his hood to reveal a yellow coat, a brown mane, and green eyes. A few wrinkles in his face showed that he was well within his middle ages, but other than that, his age was hard to determine because the color of his coat was rich and bright, and his mane didn’t have a single gray streak in it. His cutie mark was a map.

The owner of the inn went over to the table and exchanged a few words with him, presumably regarding his order, before he quickly went back behind the bar and inside the kitchen.

Swift resumed his work, but kept an eye on the newcomer as did most of the other guests. The yellow pony took a look around the room before he grabbed inside one of his saddle bags, pulled out a massive tome, and set it down on the table. He produced quill and inkwell, opened the book, and looked at it thoughtfully for a few seconds. After that, he used his magic to lift the quill, his horn being engulfed in a yellow aura as he did so, and started to write something down with a content expression on his face, not having a care in the world.

Apparently, this was too much for one of the guests, who darted up on unsteady legs, took one final gulp from his mug, slammed it down on the table, and walked towards the pony. When he arrived at the table, the two exchanged some words, which Swift couldn’t hear from his place in the room. He could, however, see the polite expression on the stranger’s face. Nonetheless, the drunkard seemed unsatisfied with him and raised his slurred voice so everyone in the taproom could hear him.

“He doesn’t want any trouble, he says. Then, why did he even come to this place, i wonder? It can’t be the storm. Surely a unicorn such as himself could easily protect himself from it with that handy horn of his...”

The longer he spoke, the more visibly irritated – no, frustrated – the stranger got. All eyes were on the two, and had it not been for the drunkard speaking, the taproom would have been shrouded in absolute silence. Unlike the brawl from before, this confrontation carried weight.

“I know his kind,” the drunkard said, pointing a hoof at the stranger. “Unicorns! I’ve yet to meet a decent one. I used to live at the border right next to the unicorn homeland with my family. We had a farm, which yielded us just enough to live, but like good earth ponies we were content with what he had.”

His expression turned bitter. “One night, i heard voices from the fields. I went out to see if the neighbor’s brats were again stealing some of our fruits. What i found instead were some fully grown, armed unicorns, who helped themselves to some food. I went back to the house to get my weapon when i heard ruckus from inside. They weren’t content to just steal our food. They were after our other belongings as well!”

At that point, he faced the stranger and looked him right in the eyes with a devastating glare. “But even that wasn’t enough. An earth pony life isn’t worth that much to a unicorn, you see? Neither is his or her dignity.” He paused for a long moment, not taking his eyes off of the stranger before he continued. “You want to know what they did to my wife?”

With a sad expression on his face, the stranger drooped his head before the other screamed the answer in his direction.

“They raped and killed her!”

Murmuring could be heard from the other guests and the barmaid put a hoof to her mouth.

The pony’s voice was now shaking with exasperation as he continued. “I heard her screams and their... disgusting laughs. I tried to get to her, but couldn’t. Some of the thugs found me and knocked me unconscious. When i woke, the whole house was on fire. I could only get out and just barely.”

For the first time, his anger seemed to dissipate only to be replaced by sadness. “I found their bodies later. I buried them near what was left of the house.”

He regained his composure and continued. “The nearest settlement was one of the cities of the unicorns beyond the border. In my foolishness, i went there to find help. Not one unicorn wanted to give me food or shelter, not even the inn owners! I went to the guardhouse as well to tell them what had happened, but of course a single farm beyond the border was none of the city’s concern. I was lucky they didn’t decide to arrest me for whatever reason when they had the chance. So i left, made my way to Marberc, and found work there.”

He then put on a bitter smile. “A few years later, i learned the best part of the story through sheer chance. The thugs that night were mercenaries, who worked for the city i went to to keep the peace at the borders! Their pay was so bad that they decided to loot earth pony farms!”

Silence fell upon the room. He had finished his story and now awaited a response from the stranger.

The stranger just shook his head sadly and looked at him. “I‘m sorry for your loss and your previous experience with my kind.”

A few more seconds passed before the other responded with a deadpan voice. “No. No, you’re not sorry and you insult me and them by saying that you are.”

He walked around the table, pulled the other up to his hooves, and took a fighting stance. “Defend yourself!”

The stranger was reluctant and took a few steps back. The other started throwing punches at him, which forced him to dodge. His movements were fluid and seemed instinctive. “I’d rather not fight you.”

The other didn’t seem to listen anymore. His face was distorted with exasperation. He threw another punch, which was evaded easily.

“Please, i don’t want to hurt you.”

Again, no reaction.

Swift’s thoughts raced. This isn’t good. He didn’t want to get involved, but he wasn’t too keen on learning what would happen if no one stepped in. The drunken pony seemed to be ready to kill!

Looking around the taproom, he could see the other ponies around him staring at what was happening. No one appeared to be willing or able to interfere.

Swift sighed. It’s always me, isn’t it?

“I SAID DEFEND YOURSELF!”

Another punch followed, then another, and another. The stranger dodged them all, but even he couldn’t keep this up indefinitely. He would need to counterattack soon to stop the raging drunkard.

Reluctantly, he readied a spell, causing his horn to flare in a yellow aura. Everyone in the crowd held their breaths in anticipation, expecting the other pony to be turned into a toad at any moment.

The loud clong echoed through the room and caused the two fighters to stop in their movements. The stranger had a surprised look on his face while the anger in the drunkards expression had vanished, leaving nothing at all.

Then, the drunken pony fell over on his stomach with a groan, revealing Swift behind him with a soup ladle in his hoof.

Again silence fell upon the room as everyone stared at him in surprise. It was the owner of the inn who found his voice first as his eyes darted between the kitchen door and Swift multiple times. “Hey, how did you get your hooves on that!?”

Swift threw the ladle over to him. Then, the other guests resumed whatever they had done before the confrontation as if nothing had happened. Two of them tended to the knocked out pony and carried him towards the stairs that led to the upper floor.

“Thanks!”

It was the stranger speaking, causing Swift to raise an eyebrow.

“My name is Wide Fare. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He held out a hoof towards Swift.

“Uh huh.” When Wide Fare kept his hoof up, Swift finally grabbed it reluctantly. “Swift Sleight.”

“I must say i’m surprised. Why did you do that, helping a unicorn in a fight against an earth pony?”

“Don’t know. I felt like it.” Swift thought that was a meager answer, but Wide Fare seemed satisfied with it and smiled.

“Well, i commend you on your instincts, even though i do feel sorry for the poor soul. Anyway, thanks again, friend.” With that, he walked back to his table and sat down.

Swift got an idea that might have gotten him a nice place to sleep that night after all and followed him. “Say, what’s that book you’re reading?”

“Writing, actually.”

To that, Swift could only raise an eyebrow.

Wide Fare smiled and explained. “I’m writing this book. It’s... a series of stories, meant to teach life lessons.”

“Who’s supposed to read it? I don’t know anyone personally who can read.”

“Well... in my homeland reading is more common than it is here.”

Having obtained what he was after, Swift decided to end the conversation there. “Well, have fun writing i guess! Maybe we’ll see each other again some time.”

“Yes, maybe we will.”

With a content smile on his face, Swift started to make his way to the bar when Wide Fare’s voice reached him one more time. “Oh, and Swift Sleight?”

“Mh?”

“Would you be so kind and give me my money back?”

Swift just blinked and froze on the spot. I don’t believe it! That old pack-mule!

Not wanting to make a big fuss about the fact that he had stolen the pony’s purse, Swift decided against throwing it back to him and instead walked to the table and gave him the bag.

He wanted to turn around when Wide Fare spoke up again. “Wait just a moment!”

Swift became impatient. He was sure the stranger was just playing with him at that point, reveling the fact that he had caught Swift in the act. “What else!?”

Wide Fare counted a few coins on the table and pushed them in Swift’s direction. “Here, this should get you a room.”

It took Swift a few moments to realize what had just happened. As he put two and two together, his jaw dropped down and he was completely dumbstruck. No one had ever given him money out of generosity!

His reaction seemed to amuse the stranger a fair bit, who had a big grin on his face.

Swift finally found his voice again. “What the hell are you doing!?”

“I figured you don’t have the money to get a room for the night,” – He pushed the bits a little bit further in Swift’s direction – “so here it is. It’s the least i can do after you helped me.”

Swift was still confused at this unusual behavior but took the money before the stranger decided to change his mind. “Thanks!” He was unable to hold back the skepticism in his voice.

“Don’t mention it!” Wide Fare turned his attention back to his tome.

Swift walked to the bar and paid for his room. He went upstairs into a narrow hallway, which had multiple doors left and right. He found the right one, unlocked it, and went inside. It was a simple room, but had all the necessary features. For Swift it was more than enough. He cleaned himself as thoroughly as possible, using the bucket of water that he found, and went to bed, which thankfully was clean. He drifted off to sleep quickly with one last thought on his mind.

There sure are some crazy ponies in this world.

Author's Note

Fun trivia:
I took the name ‘Wrühtlant’ from the middle high german word ‘vrühtic’ which means ‘fertile’.

Marberc just sounded cool, but i found out that there has been a german word named ‘Marstall’ (royal stables). I’m pretty sure that the part ‘Mar’ is somehow connected to horses. So there’s your horse related city name in the form of Marberc too.:twilightsmile:

Crossroads

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’.

Skullduggery

As Swift crept through the dark, ice cold tunnel, he was lost in thoughts. Who were his pursuers? He didn’t know, but he had no doubt that they would kill to get what they wanted. And what became of the pony in the white cloak? Swift hadn’t heard any screams. Maybe he was still alive. If their pursuers didn’t capture him, he could still make his way to the city. If he did, Swift would have to have a talk with him.

And then there was this other pony. He couldn’t make him or her out clearly, but it had to be a unicorn, given the powerful magic he cast. Was he friend or foe? He may have attacked Swift’s pursuers, but without knowing his motives there was no way of knowing what side he was on.

And all because of this small crystal trinket.

Swift glanced to the bag at his side. The round form clearly stood out. Swift didn’t know what purpose the orb served, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was more than a fashionable accessory. What secrets did it hold, what powerful magic? Swift had no way to know, so he didn’t dwell on it. All he knew was that it was very important.

And that means it’s worth a lot.

Swift may finally have found a solution to his financial predicament that didn’t involve the risk of breaking and entering. He made a note to himself to see his fence as soon as possible. For now though, Swift yearned for his bed back at home.

He finally reached the well shaft at the end of the tunnel. The rope that hung from the top of the well reached all the way down to the ground. The bucket that was attached to it lay on the frozen stream to Swift’s hooves. The well had not been in use for a few years since it had stopped carrying fluid water. A small amount of moonlight crept into the shaft. Swift extinguished his oil lamp, grabbed the rope, and started climbing. When he emerged, he stepped onto a marketplace with the well in the middle of it. He stayed in the shadows and immediately made his way to the south, towards his home.

He arrived there without trouble. The house he lived in was situated near the south wall at the edge of the city. There was a wide surface of ice behind it, which had been a stream that had run past the building. No water exited on top of the hill the city was built on, therefore elaborate mechanisms, whose workings Swift did not fully grasp, – he believed that a unicorn had helped to design them and they may have utilized magic to function properly – had transported the water into the city. This mainly ensured that businesses that relied on flowing water could stay inside the city where they were safe from attackers.

Swift’s home, being timber-framed like many more buildings in the city, had two floors, the second one being the attic, which was where he lived. The mill wheel at the side facing the frozen stream made clear that the house had originally belonged to a miller, but he had run out of business years ago. Now Dibs the fence used it as a warehouse for stolen goods. He stored them on the ground floor and let Swift stay in the attic for a monthly fee. Dibs was one of Swift’s few friends, – if one could even have friends in Swift’s line of work – and he trusted Swift enough to not steal from him or do anything else that would hurt his business.

Swift unlocked the door and entered. As usual, a lot of different loot lay around on the floor or was stowed away in crates or barrels. Swift ignored all of it and headed towards the stairs on the other end of the room that led upstairs. He went through the trapdoor at the end of it.

His room had a tilted ceiling with the highest point in the middle of the room. There was one window on each tilted side, one leading to the north and the other leading to the south, but the shutters were closed. A simple bed stood in one corner, a chest in another, both on the west side of the room. An empty table was situated in the middle of the room.

He locked the trapdoor and examined his home closely. It was a habit he had developed years ago. Whenever he was in trouble or had pulled off a big job, he would always make sure that no one was hiding in his room, had searched his belongings, or had stolen something. Everything seemed to be in order for now though.

He took off all of his traveling gear and put the saddle bags under his bed. He then threw himself on his bed with a groan, falling asleep almost instantly.

*

The next day, Swift awoke with blissful ignorance. It took him a few moments to realize that he was home again, and the only memory on his mind was the nightmare he must have had during the night.

It was cold, and he was shivering. He got up, but kept the blanket wrapped around him. He walked over to the window on the north side and opened the shutter. The bright sun greeted him and covered one half of the room in a warm gleam. The sky was mostly blue. Swift closed his eyes and savored the warmth of the sun for a moment.

When he opened them again, he saw something glisten from the corner of his eye. It came from under his bed. He walked over there, reached down under it, and took out a crystal orb.

Oh... right.

He sat down on his bed and started examining it. It was almost perfectly round, and the surface was very smooth. It was cold to the touch, but that could have been because of the cold in the room. It was translucent, but it had a murky gray haze inside.

He pulled the orb closer and took a closer look. It was very subtle, but the murky haze was moving. Gray mist mingled and separated again constantly and very slowly. There was no discernible pattern to the movements, but the longer Swift stared into the haze, the more he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some sort of order to it. Maybe some form of rationality induced them, some... entity?...

...in times...

Yes, there had to be something! Somehow he was sure of it. Maybe these movements meant something? Was it a code?

...the light...

And what was behind all the haze anyway, in the middle of the orb?

...encompassing...

Wait, what!?

In an instant, Swift pulled his face away from the orb, his eyes wide open. Had he just heard voices? His eyes darted around the room, but there was no one to be seen.

...which leaves only...

He pulled the orb close again and perked his ears up. It took a while of staring and concentrating, but after a while he heard them again. There were multiple voices coming out of the orb! Swift couldn’t decide if they were male or female. In fact, they didn’t appear to be voices at all, not in the strict sense. They were like manifested messages in their purest form, not restricted to worldly perspectives and unaffected by individual feelings and motives. They were voices with which you only spoke truth. There were six of them, each one clearly sticking out to Swift, and put together they were complete.

It is in times of disarray,
Of cold, despair, and common plight,
A mare will see the light of day,
And light she’ll be and ever bright.

Her nature will have been unknown,
Unique yet all-encompassing,
The throne one day she’ll rightly own,
Ensure her subjects well-being.

Her might, so potent, so sublime,
Will be the only thing to fight
A certain chaos in due time
And shield all from eternal fright.

When it ended, Swift was back in his room, not having realized how absent he had been. Everything was silent except from distant noises of daily city activity. He stared into nothingness for a while. Then, his eyes slowly wandered to the orb in his hooves again. A giant grin was forming on his face.

No, you won’t be worth a lot.

His grin grew even wider, if that was even possible, as he spoke the next words aloud.

“You’ll be worth a FORTUNE!”

With that, he put the orb into his saddle bag, which was shoved back under the bed, and rushed out of the room.

*

As soon as Swift left the house, he headed towards Dibs’s place. While Dibs earned money via buying and selling stolen goods, it wasn’t his primary occupation. He owned a small store in the southern part of town, which sold all sorts of goods, from food to tools and even medicinal herbs and potions, which he produced himself. Of course, he knew very little about medicine, but his customers wouldn’t even suspect it for a second. To say that Dibs knew a thing or two about deceit would have been an understatement.

On the way to Dibs’s store Swift evaded a guard patrol. So far, he hadn’t seen any posters with his face on them, but for now Swift wanted to play it safe. No need to attract unnecessary attention. He made a mental note to ask Dibs if the guards were still out to get him.

The street the store lay in was muddy from the hooves treading on the snow on a daily basis. Hardened snow nestled up to the fronts of the timber-framed buildings on both sides of the street, interrupted only where doors led into stores and homes. A small number of ponies were out and about, minding their own business.

When Swift reached the store, the closed window shutters immediately caught his eyes. It appeared as if Dibs hadn’t opened the store for the day yet. Swift approached the door and tried it. It was locked, unsurprisingly. He knocked a few times, but there was no response. Apprehension started to build up in Swift.

He took a step back and looked up to the windows of the second floor where Dibs had his apartment. “Dibs?”

Again, no reaction.

Maybe he’s just out of town... or maybe...

Swift didn’t let on anything as he examined the street warily. The ponies around him didn’t show any interest in him and just walked by, their heads hanging low. Swift didn’t disregard the roofs either, but again the coast seemed to be clear.

If this was a trap, it would have sprung already anyway.

He stood there for a few more moments, thinking about just breaking into the store and maybe finding out what’s going on that way, but ultimately decided against it. The street was relatively bare with ponies, but there was still a chance to get caught, and Swift didn’t see the need to take the risk. Besides, he didn’t have his toolkit with him, which would have complicated the job significantly.

And so, he left the street to meet the only other pony he trusted... well, more or less.

*

She could be hard to find, but Swift knew where to look. She never lived in one place for very long. Sometimes she ran out of money to pay for accommodation. Other times the actual inhabitants of the house she had broken into came home after having left the town for a few days and chased her out. Her life certainly was erratic, but it matched her character. One constant though was her liking for a certain inn called The Silly Goblin, which was where Swift was headed right now.

The marketplace with the well through which he had entered the city the night before lay on his way. It was roughly round in shape and encircled by stone buildings, which mainly housed stores and workshops. A lot of them were empty, plundering being one of the main reasons why. Swift saw a malnourished looking pony in rags enter one of them, seeking shelter from the bitter cold before one of the city’s officials would sooner or later chase him away again. The city’s minster was situated at one end of the plaza and towered over it. Angels, saints, and demons, carved out of the stone, looked down at the city with compassionate or maliciously gleeful looks.

The well in the middle of the plaza was currently obscured by a crowd of ponies. Before Swift could wonder what all the commotion was about, a confident, female voice rang out from within the crowd.

“Heed my words, fellow citizens, for i bring important news!”

A mare jumped up onto the rim of the well and attracted all the surrounding looks, including Swift’s. She wore a beige cloak. Her coat was bright green, her mane a rich red, and her lively, yellow eyes had an enchanting property to them, something which she was using to her advantage at that very moment. Swift smirked knowingly and joined the crowd. He found who he had been looking for.

The mare continued. “I, Cantrip the Cunning, have seen much on my travels, but what i’m about to tell you now may well shake your fundamental knowledge of our world to the core!”

A voice called from the crowd. “What’s your point? Is this about some weird pagan views again like last week?”

Irritated murmuring could be heard from the crowd, but Cantrip spoke up again quickly. “My friend, never would i even consider something that vile. I assure you i have your best interests in mind – our best interests for this is of concern to all of us.” She moved her hoof in a wide arc that encompassed all surrounding ponies. “My friends, the unicorns have taken us for foals!”

Another voice made itself heard. “Tell us something new!”

“Right you are, ill intent and deviousness surely are nothing new to a unicorn, but what if i told you that the one thing that sets them apart, that lets them think they’re better than earth ponies or pegasi... is not what it seems to be?”

The crowd grew impatient. “Tell us already!”

“Of course!” A dramatic pause followed, then Cantrip raised her voice and spoke momentously. “The unicorns’ magic is not limited to their kind!”

The crowd’s reaction was two-fold. Half of the ponies gasped or murmured among themselves, trying to process this new discovery. The other half just stared at Cantrip skeptically.

After the murmuring had died down mostly, she resumed her speech. “It is true, my friends. I learned it during my time in Emedula. Maybe a few of you have heard the name Star Swirl the Bearded?” She held her head high and began to strut on the rim of the well. “Old pony, but the greatest conjurer to have ever lived; his power is said to blind every earth pony or pegasus that dares to lay eyes on him; has conceived more spells than any non-unicorn can count to; sports a gray beard, longer than the mind can imagine.”

She looked down at the crowd, an eyebrow raised in a skeptical manner. “What an old buffoon!”

This triggered some giggling from the crowd.

“His beard is so long that it now holds the first lice kingdom in the world!”

The giggling was replaced by reserved laughter.

“The guy is so smart that he’s lying with books instead of mares!”

The laughter grew in volume.

“And he’s so old that one of the many duties of his unfortunate apprentices is to wipe his ass!”

The ponies in the crowd were now laughing uproariously, and Cantrip looked at them with a content smile on her face.

When the noise subsided, she went on. “So, being the experienced adventurer that i am, i made it into his wizard’s tower undetected. I took a look around, but mostly just found rubbish, magical trinkets that served no practical purpose and really weren’t of any interest or need to an earth pony.”

She held up a hoof. “There was one thing though that sparked my interest. It was a book, detailing the methods of casting spells. I took it with me and read it.”

“You can read?”

She frowned in irritation. “Who do you take me for!? Have you never heard of Cantrip the Cunning!? I’ve visited every corner of Wrühtlant and have traveled to distant lands beyond the sea. I’ve fought wild beasts – one day i should really tell you about my encounter with that one hydra – and have even argued with kings and queens. Of course i can read!”

Shaking her head, she continued where she left off. “Anyway, what i found was that casting magic does not require some birth given talent or even a horn. In theory, everyone can learn it! It wasn’t long after i cast my first spell.”

Swift saw his chance to tease her a little bit and shouted from the edge of the crowd. “Ha! So far, we’ve learned that you have a big mouth, but can you follow up on it with big deeds? Prove it!”

Her eyes darted towards him, and one of her eyebrows was raised in surprise. Then, a confident, defying smile grew on her face. “I would be happy to do so, mister.”

And so, she started to perform magic in front of them. For her first demonstration she sat down on her haunches and closed her eyes. Then, she raised both of her hooves and started to execute carefully choreographed gestures and muttered words under her breath. A swift movement of her hoof followed, and she suddenly held up a white rabbit, which punched the air and threw incomprehensible words at her in protest.

Swift wasn’t impressed. “Pfft, and i thought we don’t hold fairs in this city anymore.”

Cantrip freed the rabbit, which put its nose up defiantly and hopped away. Then, she held up a hoof to silence Swift. Once again, she closed her eyes, executed gestures, and muttered words. She then clapped her hooves together, rubbed them, and held out one of them towards the crowd. A small flame waved and flickered on it. Cantrip’s face showed no sign of pain, but instead featured a stern look of authority.

A few ahs and ohs could be heard from the crowd, and Swift himself raised an eyebrow in slight admiration.

Cantrip waved her hoof and quenched the fire. She immediately started to cast yet another spell. The gestures were now wider than they were before as her forelegs waved in front of her in curved patterns. Her eyes were shut, and a frown on her face showed intense concentration. This spell took longer than the ones before, and after a while her muttering turned into a strange chant. Swift could now hear the words more clearly, but could not understand them as they appeared to belong to a different language. Dusts of glitter suddenly appeared on her hooves and trickled to the ground. Her voice increased in volume even more.

Without warning, she lost contact to the ground as she started to levitate. She ascended higher and higher until she stopped a meter above the rim of the well. The ponies in the crowd could only gasp and stare at her in disbelief.

Then, with the final word of the incantation shouted out towards the crowd, loud and swooshing noises appeared from behind her, and lines of smoke seemingly came out of her and darted towards the sky. Seconds later, colorful lights graced the sky as booming explosions erupted over the crowd.

Most ponies ducked their heads, their faces showing signs of terror and awe. Swift must have looked quite dumbfounded as he stood there, staring towards the sky with his mouth agape.

When the spectacle ended after a few moments, Cantrip descended back towards the ground and landed on the rim of the well again. Swift regained himself and, upon looking around, was surprised to find that the crowd had gained size considerably. In fact, Swift realized, the whole city was probably by now wondering about the magical lights in the sky.

Silence fell upon the plaza. Ponies were now staring at Cantrip, not knowing what to say or how to react.

Cantrip didn’t appear to notice or think much of it though. She bowed before them multiple times. “Thank you, thank you! I can see that my demonstration has pleased you in one way or another. I also fail to see any neigh-sayers left to convince.” She smirked at Swift.

“Now, my friends, there is a reason why i called for you, the unfortunate souls who have been stricken by fate so cruelly. You see, these spells were all but minor feats of magic. True power lies within the school of life magic. Luckily, i’ve learned a spell or too in that regard as well, and i’m willing to use my knowledge to the benefit of all. So, no matter the ailment, come to me and i shall ease your pain.”

She then looked at the crowd apologetically. “I don’t ask for much in return, but, alas, these are times of deprivation, and i’m sure you understand.”

It didn’t take long for the first ponies to walk up to the mare and ask for help regarding some medical problem he or she was suffering from. Cantrip sat on the rim of the well, talked to them, and executed spells on them.

Some of the ponies’ illnesses were noticeable to the naked eye. Swift could see ponies that had lost limbs, blind ponies and ponies with discolored spots on their bodies. None of these ponies looked any different after they had been treated by Cantrip and paid her a bit or two. One thing almost all patients had in common though were the joyous looks they had on their faces.

It took about ten minutes before Cantrip treated her last patient. She had started to cast glances across the plaza as if looking for someone and seemed genuinely relieved when the last patient left. Swift went up to her.

He was greeted by a smirk as Cantrip tilted her head towards the direction the last patient went. “What a bunch o’ suckers!”

“I must say, that’s cold, Can!”

She shrugged. “Blame it on the weather!”

Swift almost didn’t catch it, but with a flick of a hoof, Cantrip pushed something beside her on the rim of the well down the hole.

Swift raised an eyebrow questioningly.

She answered casually. “Payment for my little helpers, but enough with the talking. Let’s go!” She stood up and walked towards one of the streets leading away from the plaza.

“Why the haste?”

“The show was fun and all, but i’m not too keen on awkward questions from the city’s officials.”

The two made their way towards the edge of the plaza. When they were halfway there, something felt off to Swift. He glanced to his right. There, about thirty meters to the side, two guards walked towards the street, trying to look casual while intercepting, but failing. Swift looked at Cantrip questioningly.

She rolled her eyes. “Care to prove if you can live up to your name, Swift?” she asked with a smirk. “Who ever is at The Silly Goblin last, pays.”

He smirked back. “You’re on!”

And with that, they shot off, causing the two guards to stand there for a moment, flabbergasted. When the guards finally reacted, the two scoundrels had already reached the street and vanished into the familiar labyrinth that was the city.

*

To Swift’s dismay, Cantrip reached The Silly Goblin first. It was a peculiar establishment. The whole building looked as if a crazy pony without any knowledge of architecture had build it. There was no symmetry; no two lines were aligned. The windows were all of different styles, and the roof was an askew patchwork of shingles, straw, and bare wood. A wooden sign with a quirky, dancing creature on it hung over the entrance.

Swift and Cantrip entered the inn. Surprisingly, the taproom didn’t look much different from taprooms of other inns and taverns. On the right side was the counter. Behind it, a door led into the kitchen. On the left side, there was a stage, situated slightly higher than the rest of the room. Rectangular tables with heaps of straw beside them to sit on filled the remaining open space. Along the back wall, a stair led up to the upper floor.

The two ponies sat down at a table in one of the corners and ordered food and drink. Cantrip took off her beige cloak to reveal the two dice on her flank in the same color.

She spoke up first. “I see you’re sporting a new look.” She examined Swift’s face closely before she grimaced. “Maybe you’re lucky and the ponies you’ve robbed won’t recognize you anymore.”

Swift realized that she was referring to his still broken nose. “Maybe you can fix it with your magic.”

“Sure, give me a few bits, and i’ll see what i can do. The right angle and just enough force and it should look fine again,” she replied with a grin.

“No, thanks! Anyway, impressive show you just performed there. For a second, i thought there was actually something to it.”

Cantrip cast him a cheeky smile. “The look on your face didn’t escape me. To this day, this innocent girl never fails to leave you speechless with her charm,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Swift snorted in mock amusement. “Yeah right, innocent girl!”

This triggered a laugh from Cantrip. “You’re wrong though. There was something to that show. Those tricks are hard to pull off, you know?”

“What were those lights and that thunder at the end, anyway?”

“You liked it? Fancy import from the far east. They call it fireworks. I got it from Dibs. I always wonder what he needs all this weird stuff for.”

“Sounds exotic... and expensive.”

“It was. Almost spent every bit i had on it, but wasn’t it worth it?” she asked with an enthusiastic grin on her face.

Swift shook his head and grinned. “You’re crazy, Can!”

Cantrip rolled her eyes. “Seriously, how many times do i have to tell you? Sweet-talking doesn’t work on me!”

Swift laughed and took a gulp from his mug before he leaned back and took in his surroundings. As he cast his eyes around the all familiar taproom scene, he was reminded of a certain inn, a brawl, a strange unicorn, the way to the north and what happened during it. It occurred to him again that there was a specific reason for why he wanted to talk to Cantrip.

“Say, what’s up with Dibs, anyway? He isn’t at home, and his shop is closed. Is he out of town?”

Cantrip shrugged. “Last time i checked, he was at home.” She glanced at him curiously. “Why? Pulled any jobs lately?”

“No, i was out of town myself.”

A knowing grin crept onto her face. “Ah, and we both know why, don’t we? That stunt with the baron’s son was priceless.”

Swift groaned, but Cantrip kept on going. “The guards searched every nook and cranny for you. Your cute face adorned every street corner.”

“It was that bad, huh?”

Cantrip chewed on some cheese as she answered casually. “Uh huh.”

“Then, why are the posters gone now?”

Cantrip swallowed, then answered. “The baron decided that his son’s reaction was a bit extreme and had them removed. Still, some of the guards are on the lookout for you.”

“That’s fine. I can deal with a few guards.”

Swift wanted to tell her about last night, about his encounter at the crossing and the chase, but should he drag her into this? Maybe she would be better off not knowing anything about it. This whole affair was his problem, not hers, after all, and he would have to deal with it.

Then again, Swift had seen the determination in the thugs’ eyes. They would use every opportunity to get him, including everyone connected to him to lure or seek him out. Had he already dragged her into it without wanting to? A sense of guilt overcame him, but he shook it off quickly.

It’s not my fault, but i can make the best of the situation and at least tell her about it.

And so, he told her everything about the night before. He started with the pony in the white cloak, described the orb, and told her about the chase and about the mysterious unicorn, who had engaged his pursuers.

What he left out were the voices in the orb. If the thing was as important as the pony in the white cloak had made it out to be, then it was probably prudent not to reveal too much about it to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary.

Cantrip devoured the story and asked for certain details here and there. Her eyes were big and glittered with the fascination of a child listening to a bedtime story of heroic deeds in foregone times.

When Swift finished with how he had safely gotten home, she stared at him with awe for a few moments before she regained herself and spoke up. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. They’ll be looking for me now, so i guess i’ll keep my head down until Dibs shows up and i can get rid of that thing.”

Cantrip looked disappointed. “Oh, so you want to sell it?”

“I want to get rid of it, and if i can earn some extra while doing so, then i’ll do that.” He looked at her directly. “I told you about this so you know to be wary when someone shows up and starts talking about crystal orbs. Not that i think that they would be that obvious.”

Cantrip rolled her eyes. “Come one, i can look out for myself. I’m not a child anymore.”

Swift wasn’t convinced of that. “It’s for both our sakes.”

Swift and Cantrip finished their meals and talked about everything and anything for a while after that. Cantrip didn’t squander the opportunity to talk at great length about fireworks, her apparent new passion. Swift wasn’t surprised about this, considering it exploded loudly and gave off colorful lights. From what Cantrip told him – things that she had in turn learned from Dibs – the contact of a burning fuse with some kind of powder on the inside of the firework resulted in the violent reaction he had witnessed. The fact that this reaction wasn’t probably too comfortable from up close didn’t escape him.

After a while, Swift bade farewell and left. He tried to get some info on Dibs’s whereabouts from a few strangers in the vicinity of the store, but didn’t get anything out of them. For the rest of the day he decided to lay low and stay at home. There wasn’t much more that he could have done except to wait for Dibs to show up. If the bad guys found Swift before that, then so be it. He would deal with it when the time came.

A New Job

Loud bangs on solid wood reached Swift’s ears and woke him from his slumber. Cracking open his eyes, he saw thin lines of golden light slipping through the window shutters. With his mind still in a clouded state, he tried to go back to sleep, but the noise didn’t subside. It kept on going, pounding his nerves and making him wince with each blow. Realizing that trying to go back to sleep was futile, he groaned, got up, and headed for the trapdoor on the other side of his room.

Not many ponies knew where he lived or that the old mill was still inhabited. Dibs and Cantrip came to mind, but Dibs owned a key and Cantrip was unlikely to mistreat the door like that. There were a few others, not one of them someone Swift would have been happy to see on his doorstep.

He made his way across the ground floor and reached the front door. Beside the door was a metallic tube that was connected with the front wall of the building, a handy tool to observe without being noticed. A lens was inserted on its end through which Swift took a peek. After tilting it a bit, Swift was able to take a look at his visitors.

Three ponies stood in front of the door, featuring looks on their faces that signaled everyone that they meant trouble. One of them pounded at the door while the other two, bulkier in build, kept the surroundings in sight. One of the two motioned for a pony that had been staring from the other side of the street to get going again. As he did so, his cloak was moving, and a short, pointed form stood out from under it.

Swift had a guess who his visitors might be.

He unlocked the door and opened it. “Ah, Easy Manage’s staff i assume? You’re lucky. I don’t open the door at this hour except for very good friends.”

The pony that had been knocking at the door answered. “Let’s cut the bull and get right to it, shall we?”

“Of course! Even though i dislike it, i should probably ask you in.”

With that, he stepped to the side, let them in, and closed the door. The pony Swift had talked to walked over to a crate and sat down on it while the other two positioned themselves on both sides of the door. One of the watchdogs cleaned his teeth with his dagger.

Swift began to speak as he walked over to a wall to rest his back against it, his forelegs sitting on the windowsill behind him. “So, how can i be of service?”

The pony on the crate spoke with a deadpan, almost bored voice as if he had made the following speech countless times. “We are here to remind you that you are shy of fifty-eight bits including interest. The agreed upon date to pay it back was yesterday, and Mr. Easy Manage is wondering where his money is. He wishes to inform you that his conditions regarding loans are to be taken seriously.”

“And he’ll get the money, just not now. You guys can tell him that i’ve been robbed and that i need more time to get the money.”

“Excuses!” The pony jumped off the crate and took a few slow but purposeful steps in Swift’s direction. “But sure, i’ll deliver your message. Mr. Easy Manage will surely get back to you with a proper response.” When his face was only centimeters apart from Swift’s, it gained a mischievous grin. “Personally, i hope he’ll chooses me to be the... messenger. I’m not too fond of ponies like you, ponies who don’t know their place.”

Swift knew what came next, and nothing he could have said could have prevented it. “Great, maybe you can teach me a thing or two about it.”

In one rapid movement, a hoof hit Swift hard in the stomach. He leaned over, squirming in pain, while the other one followed Swift’s movement to be on the same level as Swift “How’s that for starters?”

“I get the point,” Swift gasped, forcing a smile on his face.

“Good!” The thug turned and walked towards the door, but stopped in front of it to look back one more time. “We’ll get back to you.”

He went through the door, the two goons following behind. One of them used the opportunity to point his hoof at his own nose and sneer. “Nice look, by the way.”

Swift just shot back a wry smile.

And with that, they were gone. Only then did Swift release his firm grasp on the heavy bust behind his back.

*

Swift was in dire need of money. Again. After the encounter with the goons, he hit up some of his earlier employers, but most couldn’t afford to pay a day laborer or simply didn’t need one. Others recognized Swift’s face and were even faster to deny him work. One, a local trader, even tried to stall their conversation long enough until the guards arrived, presumably in the hopes of a bounty. When Swift realized what he was trying to do, he turned to leave, only to walk into the pony’s personal guards. It took a fair bit of agility and cunning in the form of redirection of the dimwitted guards’ attention towards non-existent distractions, but Swift got away. That last encounter soured his mood though, and he decided to give up job-hunting for the day. It was early afternoon when he decided to went to The Silly Goblin early to just lounge.

The inn was sparse with customers at that time of day. Vigilant as he was, Swift examined them, tried to assess if they posed any danger, but no one struck him as being a troublemaker.

That remained the case until two other ponies entered the inn. Both of them wore rags, not unlike a lot of other ponies that didn’t have anything else to protect them against the cold. One of the newcomers had a short, scraggly beard and carried a saddle bag. The other one, noticeably younger but still an adult, stood out by the morose expression on his face.

Swift couldn’t hold back a smirk at the sight. Well, if these two aren’t up to no good, then i don’t know who is. He decided it would be a good idea to fight his boredom by observing them a little bit, analyzing them. It would be good practice for his pony reading skills at the very least.

The two settled down in a corner of the room, secluding themselves from the other customers. They sat in front of each other in a way so that Swift could still see both of their faces.

Not too social, huh? Could mean anything. There aren’t many ponies here yet, anyway.

They began to talk, leaning forward to each other a little bit while doing so. Their voices were hushed, given the fact that Swift couldn’t hear them, even in the relatively quite taproom. He focused on their eyes. The bearded one’s were focused on his dialogue partner, but the other pony cast glances to the side now and then, forcing Swift to let his eyes wander around the room to avoid suspicion.

Crap, did he notice me?

Turning his eyes back to the two, the younger pony glanced to the side once more. This time, as Swift looked away again, he caught something else from the corner of his eye: The bearded one made movements with his hoof as he spoke. Swift turned his eyes on him instead, looking for some meaning behind the movements. The pony didn’t seem to generally use gestures much as he talked, but still he made movements now and then, seemingly to accentuate what he was saying. Another wave with his hoof, and the other one’s eyes were once again fixed on his partner.

Swift nodded inwardly at that. He’s trying to keep his attention, to keep him from arousing suspicion by looking around the room the whole time. The grumpy one is nervous.

The conversation went on, and Swift focused more on their expressions now. The bearded one’s look was neutral, through and through. If there were any emotions, his cold and calculating expression didn’t betray them in the slightest. The other one’s morose expression was just as consistent. The difference was that a morose expression was much more emotional than a neutral one.

It’s a barrier. The grumpy one keeps that face up because he’s afraid that ponies might read his true emotions. The other one though? He’s a professional. Doesn’t need a mask. Impressive how he even manages to keep his face straight while dealing with such a bag of nerves.

The two had talked for a few minutes when the bearded one stood up and walked over to the bar. It didn’t escape Swift that he brought his saddle bag with him.

Not even leaving the table without it. I wonder what’s in there...

The pony talked with the stallion behind the bar, Brim Ale, the owner of the inn, and was handed a key soon after.

Yeah, these two are most certainly not planning on cuddling.

The pony walked back to the table and sat down again. Both him and the other one didn’t seem to want to leave the table anytime soon. Instead, Brim Ale brought them two mugs before returning back and walking through the door that led into the kitchen.

Mh... if they’re not using the room right now, i could use the time to do a little snooping around. First, i need to find out which room they took though.

Swift knew that Brim Ale wrote the room numbers on the keys themselves, so taking a peek at the key would be the most straightforward thing to do. However, the bearded pony had put it in his saddle bag, and he guarded the bag like gold. Swift was a good thief, but not good enough to be able to rummage through a bag in search of a small key without the pony sitting next to it noticing.

Swift was a good thief, and that’s why he didn’t settle for the most straightforward method, if it wasn’t the most promising. He could perhaps not take a peek at the right key, but he could look at the other ones behind the bar. Then, it would just be a matter of eliminating the wrong rooms. The right room would be one for which the key was not available. However, there were likely more than one key missing.

Brim Ale always retrieved the keys whenever a customer who had paid for a room left the inn, even if only for a short time. They would get them back as soon as they returned. That way, Brim Ale ensured that the keys didn’t get lost somewhere in the city. That procedure worked in Swift’s favor because it meant that the keys of occupied rooms could lie with the keys on unoccupied rooms, increasing the amount of keys available and therefore decreasing the difficulty of finding the correct room.

Even if, after taking that procedure into account, there were still multiple keys missing, Swift could still try to find out if rooms were occupied by listening for noises by the corresponding doors and eliminate the rooms that way. The rest was luck.

That only left the question of how to get behind the counter without getting noticed. Swift wasn’t too worried about the customers noticing. Sometimes, you could hide in plain sight. Brim Ale, however, wouldn’t be all that amused to find him rummaging through his room keys. A distraction was needed.

At that exact moment, the door to the inn opened. Swift’s thoughtful eyes shifted towards the newcomer to find a green coated mare entering.

He was grinning. Cantrip, you come in the nick of time!

He waved to make himself noticeable, and she trotted over to him happily. “Swift, you here so early?”

Swift shrugged. “I was looking for work, but couldn’t find any.”

Cantrip sat down next to Swift as she responded. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah well, some of Easy’s goons showed up earlier and said something about the loan being overdue.”

“Wow, you’re certainly in great demand at the moment.”

“You could say that,” Swift replied thoughtfully, his eyes once again on the two ponies in the corner “Say, can you do me a favor, Can?”

“Anything, unless it qualifies as this so called ‘work’ you just talked about.”

“It doesn’t.” Swift tilted his head in the direction of the two conspicuous ponies. “Do you see those two jokers over there?”

Cantrip’s eyes wandered in the indicated direction before she lowered her voice to speak in a conspiratorial manner. “You mean those two?”

“Yes.”

“With the one who can’t help but glance around the room all nervously and tries to mask it by acting all cranky?”

“Uh huh.”

“And with the other one who’s annoyed by the cranky one, but doesn’t want to show it to avoid suspicion, and who is acting as if he’s carrying gold nuggets in his saddle bag?”

“Yep.”

Cantrip raised her voice again as she continued to speak casually. “Oh yeah, i noticed them when i came in. They’re totally up to something.”

“Exactly, and i’m going to find out what it is. All i need you to do is to distract Brim Ale so that i can take a look at his room keys behind the counter.”

Cantrip scratched her head to that. “What’s the connection between those two and the room keys?”

“Trust me; i’ll tell you later. So, will you do it?”

She tilted her head to both sides in contemplation. “Mh, i don’t know Swift. There’s a significant risk for me too, you know. Distractions are... you know... difficult. You’re lacking arguments.”

Swift flattened his ears against his head in annoyance. “Fine, one bit and no more!”

In an instant, Cantrip’s look of contemplation was replaced by a grin. “You’re a sweetie, Swift, and so generous!”

“With friends like you, who needs enemies?” he said and rolled his eyes, knowing that she didn’t really care about the money.

At that moment, Brim Ale came out of the kitchen and brought food to the table with the two suspicious characters before walking back behind the counter.

Cantrip stood up. “That’s my cue,” she said before trotting over to the counter. “That’s where you’ve been, Al. I just came from outside. Do you remember those guys the other day who eyed your carriage as if it would make ideal firewood? I couldn’t help but notice that the gate to the shed is wide open.”

Brim Ale’s response was to widen his eyes in shock and anger. “Argh! I warned them what would happen, if i saw them again.” Quickly, he reached down under the counter and produced a club. “I’m a stallion of my word!” he exclaimed before rushing out through the main door, followed closely by the snickering Cantrip.

Swift took a look around the taproom. Some ponies were surprised at the incident, others ignored it, but after a few moments everyone acted as if nothing had happened.

Swift didn’t waste any time and stood up. He headed directly for the counter at a casual pace and, as if it was completely normal, walked behind it. He made his way to the spot where Brim Ale kept the keys when he noticed something from the corner of his eye. He turned his head to find questioning glances directed towards him from some of the customers.

He put on his best sheepish smile. “Lost my key last night. Al must’ve put it back to the others.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the other ponies shrugged and resumed to mind their own business. Some of them may have swallowed the lie, other may have not. It didn’t matter to Swift.

He grabbed the keyring from under the counter and laid it on top of it. The Silly Goblin had eight rooms and another bigger one that couldn’t be locked. Swift found five keys on the ring. His voice was low as he muttered to himself. “Damn, where is it!?” Having obtained all the information he needed, he came out from behind the counter. Throwing one last look at the two ponies in the corner to ensure that they weren’t suspicious of him, he headed for the stairs.

The upper floor consisted of a single hallway that was flanked by doors on both sides. Swift made his way to the nearest door for which the key was missing and put his ear against it. At first, he heard nothing, but then a mare cleared her throat, and steps could be heard. That room was obviously occupied.

One down, two to go.

Swift did the same at the next door. Again, he heard nothing. He waited a little while longer, closing his eyes to concentrate on his hearing, but no sound came from beyond the door. He tried the door to find that it was locked.

For now, he abandoned it and went to the third door to repeat the procedure one more time. Again, there was silence and the door was locked.

Swift knew that, due to the askew nature of the inn’s roof, almost every room had a small, separate cavity above the ceiling to keep the ceiling height of each room the same. These cavities weren’t meant to be accessible, but that wouldn’t stop Swift. His plan was to enter the room and hide inside the cavity, watching the two ponies through slits in the ceiling from above. However, once the two ponies were inside their room, Swift couldn’t get to the cavity anymore, because his only way to get there was to go through the room. That meant that he had to pick the right room beforehand.

Now, we get to the luck part.

With no clues as to which was the right room, Swift simply picked one. With a short glance down both directions of the hallway, he lifted his foreleg to bring out his lock picks from his saddle bag...

only to find that he wasn’t carrying a saddle bag.

He shut his eyes to fight the rising annoyance. I swear, from now on, i’ll never leave home without them ever again.

There was no way for Swift to open the lock without his lock picks. He could have perhaps opened the door by force, but that would have been less than subtle, and he didn’t want to damage property, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. However, Swift knew that, when it came to burglary, there were multiple entry points more often than not. In that particular case, the window on the other side of the room came to mind.

He turned around and made his way back through the hallway and down the stairs. As he walked across the taproom, he noticed that the two ponies were still sitting at the table in the corner, not about to be finished with their meal anytime soon. Outside the inn, Swift entered the nearest alleyway and rounded the building until he stood directly under the window in question. It was a few meters above the ground, and it was slightly agape, enough to put a hoof through it.

Swift took in his surroundings to find that the alleyway was quite narrow, being flanked by timber-framed buildings and devoid of any other ponies. It was just what he needed.

He pressed his back against the wall under the window and braced himself. Then, with a short but speedy dash, he jumped at the wall he was facing. His hindhooves touched the wall first, and he immediately pushed against it with all his might. The resulting leap sent him flying through the air directly towards the window. With his forelegs stretched out, he grabbed the frame while the rest of his body slammed against the wall. Nonetheless, he managed to keep himself suspended. He pulled himself up, reached one hoof through the window to lift the bolt holding the window in place, and pushed the window open. With one last pull of his forelegs, Swift was inside the room.

The room itself was sparsely furnished. A single bed stood by the wall, in the middle of the room, a chair was situated in front of a desk, a coat rack was beside the door, and there was even a small fireplace with the tools that were needed to tend to the fire in a rack beside it.

After having inspected the room, Swift turned around to face the window again. He closed it a little bit and lowered the bolt again, leaving the window in the exact same position as before. Swift had learned years ago that when you manipulated something at the scene of the crime, it was always best to leave as much as possible exactly how you had encountered it to avoid suspicion. Even if the signs of a break-in remained, you could still buy yourself some time by being thorough, and in a delicate profession like Swift’s that could mean the difference between a successful job and a chopped off hoof.

After he was done with the window, he examined the ceiling. It didn’t take long for him to find a spot, near the table, where the thin wooden boards were far enough apart from each other to fit something through. As much as Swift wished he had his tools with him, a crowbar wasn’t even necessary here.

With a firm step, he walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the poker beside it. Then, he positioned the chair directly under the spot in the ceiling with the gap and climbed onto the chair. He tucked the poker between the boards and pushed it upwards carefully. It took only a bit of pressure and one of the boards was loose. With a firm push of his hooves, it was shoved back to its original position, revealing the nail that held it in its place. He pulled it out of the board with his teeth. Then, he repeated the process at the other end of the board to loosen it completely. Board and nails were stashed in the cavity above the ceiling – again, Swift chose to keep the scene of the crime tidy – before he resumed his work on the next board.

After a few minutes, a hole had formed in the ceiling, big enough for a pony to fit through. Content with his work, Swift climbed through it, entering the dusty, dark cavity above the room. He leaned down the hole and used the poker to push the chair under him back to the desk where it had originally stood. After that, he searched for a spot from which he could see a good portion of the room through gaps in the ceiling. The only other thing left to do was to lie down and wait.

Barely a few minutes had passed when Swift heard steps from beyond the door. He was fully prepared to hear them pass it when the door suddenly opened. The two ponies in question entered, the bearded one still in possession of his saddle bag. The door was closed behind them and locked.

Both of them took a look around the room. Now that no other ponies could openly watch them, Swift could finally see the apparent apprehension in the younger pony’s face. Swift, however, could not feel satisfied in having read the pony correctly as the pony’s look wandered over the hole in the ceiling and remained there. In fact, both of the ponies’ gazes were focused on the hole for a while longer than Swift was comfortable with.

Then, however, they both turned their eyes away. The bearded one headed towards the window and closed it before both of them sat down on either side of the bed. The saddle bag was opened and a map – no, a plan showing the layout of a building – was laid down on it.

Swift squinted his eyes as he took in the details of the drawing. There was a wall around the whole premise, leaving open space at every side of the building that sat in the middle. The building itself was rectangular in shape and had two floors. Swift’s eyes widened when he finally realized what the two were up to.

A break-in into the bishop’s manor? This is going to be interesting!

The bearded one spoke up with a firm voice as he began to point out spots on the map with his hoof. “This is the outer wall. With the right tools, you shouldn’t have any problems getting over it.” His hoof shifted a few centimeters onto one of the open spaces between wall and building. “Problems begin here. With the lack of shrubbery and trees there are no hiding spots. The snow also gives you away as soon as the guards patrolling the perimeter lay eyes on your hoofprints. So, unless you can fly and make yourself invisible, i suggest you take a different route.”

Again, his hoof wandered, now sliding along two parallel dotted lines. “This is the manor’s secret underground passage. The bishop uses it to smuggle things in and out of the building,” he said before his hoof rested at the end of both lines by the side of a cliff, located just outside of the city walls. “This is your entry point. A small path by the side of the cliff leads to this entrance. You reach the path via an abandoned building here.” He pointed at a house that clung to the inner part of the city wall. Then, he produced a key from his saddle bag and threw it down onto the bed. “This is the key to that house.”

The other pony, still keeping his mouth shut, took it. The bearded one’s attention, however, was already on the map again. “I don’t know of many guards in the tunnel, which leads me to believe that you might encounter traps down there. I don’t know what kinds though.”

The young thief held his gaze steadily on the map, but a frown became visible on his forehead.

The bearded one continued. “Security on the inside is comparatively lax. The bishop appreciates being alone. He doesn’t expect any intruders to get past the tight security outside and by the entrances.” The pony pointed his hoof at a spot of the second floor. “The bishop’s most prized possessions are here, directly behind his chambers. This is the trickiest part of it all. The vault is sealed, not only by an iron door, for which i don’t have the key, but also” – for the first time since the two had entered the room, he looked directly in the other pony’s eyes – “by defensive spells.”

The other pony tried to hide it, but the disappointment in his features was clear. It didn’t last long though as he gained a determined look shortly thereafter. “I’ll find a way around them.”

The bearded one didn’t hide his skepticism. “You sure about that?”

The other one was quick to reply with a glare. “What are you trying to say?”

The bearded one took a few moments to assess the young thief before he replied. “Look, kid, this isn’t exactly a stroll. I know a few good thieves that would think twice about doing such a job. I know a professional when i see one, and you’re not one of them.”

The other one held the glare for a few more moments. Then, he drew his eyes away and answered, his voice not as firm anymore. “I have my reasons for doing this. If i manage it or not is my concern, not yours.”

The other one shrugged, no emotion visible besides indifference. “You’re right. Anyway, that’s all the info i have. You can keep the map and make up your own plan from here. Now, where’s the money?”

The other one produced a small bag and laid it down onto the bed. “It’s the agreed upon amount.”

“Right, but let me make sure anyway.”

The next few minutes were silent except for the tinkling noises of the coins as the bearded one counted the bits. The other one used the time to examine the map a bit closer, apparently conceiving a plan for his break-in. The silence was almost palpable, and Swift didn’t dare to move a muscle and had to fight the urge to hold his breath for fear of detection.

But then, the bearded one spoke again as he got ready to leave. “Good, you have what you wanted, and i have my money, which means the deal is done.” Without any further words, he headed for the door and left.

The other one stayed. He stood completely still, not moving a muscle or making a sound. His eyes were fixed on the map, but he didn’t seem to be too interested in it. Instead, he stared into nothingness, completely lost in thought. After a few minutes, Swift started to feel a little uncomfortable at the situation, but then, with a heavy sigh, the pony took the map and turned to leave as well, locking the door behind him. The meeting had come and gone, and the room was vacant once more.

Swift waited just a little while longer to make sure that they were really gone before he too left his hiding place. As he made his way towards the window, his mind was busy recollecting all the details of the map and information he had just heard for future reference.

He had found a new job after all.

True Colors

The city lay quietly. The thick darkness of the night had taken over every house, alleyway, and even the main streets of the city. The sky was black, and only now and then would the clouds make way for the crescent moon behind them to shine down, causing the snowdrifts to reflect its light in a vain attempt to fight the blackness before it engulfed the city again.

In this almost impenetrable darkness, a figure moved with a purpose, unseen and unheard. Swift was cold, but not overly so since only the faintest breeze swept through the streets and alleyways. From somewhere to the side of him, just barely noticeable, the wind carried the dull sound of metallic rattle as a few guards patrolled the streets.

Swift Sleight was in his element.

He wore dark clothing, which covered most of his body and, most importantly, his face. He carried a large bag, emptied out, but hopefully soon to be filled. He had also buckled on a belt with all the necessary equipment: lock picks in different shapes and sizes as well as a small torsion wrench that went with them, a rope, a lantern, a small crowbar, a bag of iron caltrops to hinder movement, a dagger – just in case – and a number of identical items that were very special despite their trivial use.

By all appearances, they were just short wooden twigs. Swift had acquired them from Dibs at a reasonable price, though the nature and rarity of such items meant that they were still rather expensive. The small twigs could be ignited by striking them against a rough surface, which was a much faster way to make fire than the regular method of using flint and tinder.

They had been treated alchemically. Alchemy was the discipline of natural philosophy that combined the knowledge of natural substances with the magic of unicorns. Using alchemy, it was possible to create items that could never be created using mundane methods. At least that’s what the alchemists claim.

Due to the nature of the procedure, every alchemical item carried a small portion of the personal signature of its creator, which made itself noticeable when the item was used. These effects ranged from the creator’s magical color appearing in some form, to enhancing the effect itself when the creator was a particularly powerful magician. Allegedly, some alchemical items could even take on the emotions and character traits of the creator, which resulted in many children’s stories of cursed items, cautionary tales for young earth ponies about the dangers of unicorns and their magic.

In a land like Wrühtlant, where most ponies didn’t have a clue about the workings of magic let alone saw it in action, it was no wonder that this stuff was expensive.

Swift kept moving, his destination being an old, abandoned house by the western wall. However, it wouldn’t be his final destination. His job that night was a little bit more ambitious than that. He was no stranger to tricky break-ins, but a burglary into the bishop’s mansion was new even for him.

From the meeting between the two criminals the day before, he had learned that the mansion was secured not only by mundane means, but also by magical ones. He had never encountered magical traps before as he never had had to – or had had the opportunity to – break into a unicorn’s abode. There were no unicorns living in Marberc as far as Swift knew, and the bishop certainly wasn’t one either.

However, it didn’t surprise Swift that the bishop relied on powerful magic to secure his treasures despite him and the clergy in general continuously defaming everything foreign. It was just one example of the church’s double standards.

Maybe i’ll learn of a few more tonight.

Eventually, Swift reached his first stop. The wooden building was a combination of a workshop and home and was still in remarkably good shape. It was built directly by the side of the western city wall. The wood appeared to be sturdy, and there were no obvious holes in the walls or roof. No sign hung above the single entrance, so Swift couldn’t tell what profession the erstwhile owner had practiced.

When listening and looking for observers nearby didn’t expose anyone, Swift made his way to the door leading into the house. He tried it and found that it was locked.

There were mainly two ways to pick a lock: Poking the pins individually and raking them. Both techniques required specialized lock picks: hooks and rakes. The idea behind raking was to align all pins inside the lock by moving the pick back and forth. It was an easy, fast technique and very effective on simple locks, but the downside was the noise it produced. Since Swift was in no hurry and anyone within a few meters behind the door would have heard a raking attempt, he decided against it, instead opting to align the pins individually.

He took one of the hooks and the torsion wrench from his belt and inserted both into the lock. He let his eyes wander over his surroundings, looking out for anyone approaching while solely relying on his tactile sense to finish the job at the same time. The first step was to turn the wrench to exert a small amount of tension on the lock. Then, Swift began to poke the pins with the pick with steadiness that had developed for years prior. It never took him more than a few seconds for each pin, and now and then faint clicks could be heard as the upper pins above the lower ones he was poking snapped into place.

When he reached the third of six pins, he noticed that he couldn’t align it without the pick getting in the way of the other pins. The bitting was too large, meaning there was a big difference in height between the pins. He continued to exert tension with the wrench and pulled out the hook, replacing it with one that had a much sharper angle at its end. He inserted it and continued his work, which turned out to be much easier than before. Before long, the tension from the wrench released with one last satisfying click to which Swift couldn’t hold back a small smile. He turned the lock, and the door was opened.

Damn, i’ve missed this.

Putting away his tools, Swift entered and closed the door behind him. Inside, it was pitch-dark. Dust reached his nose, making it itch, and the silence was complete, directing his ears’ attention to his own heart beating in excitement. Although it was dusty, Swift noted that the ground under his hooves was not, indicating that this old building was still visited from time to time.

He took one of the alchemical twigs and struck it against the wall. A white flash appeared before the twig started to burn away in an azure blue flame. He used the twig to light his lantern, which also began to glow with a blue light, illuminating the surroundings. Swift stood inside a large workshop at the moment. There was no one to be seen or heard, and the only items in the room were some tools, buckets and saws, all rusty and brittle from age. The large wall opposite of him was made out of stone, presumably the city wall. There, built into it, was what Swift was looking for: a metal grating, locked with a padlock.

Swift walked over to it and repeated the procedure from before. Just like last time, this lock was easily overcome, and the grating opened with a creaking noise.

Swift walked through it and was outside again. He was standing on a narrow path that led to his right, winding along the side of the cliff. A good distance below him, the surrounding landscape stretched out, glowing a faint gray. Here, beyond the city walls, the wind was a bit stronger, causing him to shiver slightly.

He walked slowly, careful not to miss any tripping hazards in the faint light. There was no getting up again after falling down that cliff. After a few minutes of walking, he saw a large, dark patch on the side of the cliff a few meters before him. He closed the gap and realized that he was standing in front of a cave entrance, roughly three by three meters in size. The path ended there. Resolutely, Swift stepped inside and was engulfed by the shadows.

Inside the city, by the old, abandoned house, it was still calm and quiet. Dormant houses flanked the darkened streets. Almost every sign of life was absent.

Almost. A pair of eyes from one of the alleyways had the old house in its sight. The appertaining body was frozen on the spot, its muscles slightly tensed. Its legs had carried it all the way towards the house, but now they refused to go any further. For a while, the pony just stood there and stared. Eventually, he closed his eyes, calmed his breathing, and, upon opening his eyes again, walked towards the house.

When he arrived there, he took out a key and turned it inside the lock. When it met resistance without the bolt inside of the lock snapping back, the pony’s eyes went wide. Alarmed, he looked around frantically, only to find that the streets were as desolate as before. He returned his eyes to the door again. Yet again, he didn’t move, and instead just held a steady gaze, accompanied by a distinct frown this time. Then, with what appeared to be physical effort, he entered, his limbs trembling.

Finding himself in absolute darkness again, Swift perked his ears up for any suspicious noises before lighting his lantern once again. In the blue light, he could see that the small cave was roughly round in shape and overall fairly featureless. It would have ended a few meters opposite of the entrance, had it not been for another opening in the wall. This one wasn’t natural though. It was a corridor, and although the walls were abrasive, it was clear that it had been carved out of the stone. Little to Swift’s surprise, another iron grating obstructed his way.

Swift was already on his way to the grating to pick the lock when a thought hit him. The guy said something about traps.

He hesitated for a moment, but then resumed his way. Instead of taking out lock pick and wrench though, he simply lifted his lantern and looked at the grating critically. He let his eyes wander over it, taking in its general appearance and functionality. It was a simple object, painted black. Its hinges were set inside the stone wall, letting the grating swing open to one side and into the corridor. The lock was not unlike those Swift had encountered just minutes ago.

He shifted his attention to the hinges more closely and began touching them, careful not to miss any details, not the rust, nor the gaps between the moving parts, nor the slight discrepancies between the hinges. When he didn’t find anything suspicious, he continued on to the lock, examining it just as closely and illuminating it with his lantern to take a better look at its insides. Again, he found nothing.

Stepping back from the grating, he frowned. Traps weren’t meant to be found, so it was not only important to take your time when searching for one, but also to not solely rely on sight while doing so. He followed both of these instructions. However, there was one aspect he had left out: perspective.

Approaching the grating again, Swift stretched out one of his hooves and put it through the bars. Then, he carefully and slowly felt the back of the grating. Unsurprisingly, there was more cold metal.

But then, he felt something else. It was a thin string, hidden behind a horizontal bar and held firmly under tension. It was attached to the back of the lock and went towards the wall in which the hinges were set. Swift held up his lantern and squinted his eyes at the wall. Now, knowing that it was there, he could make out the thin thread attached to the wall via barely noticeable lugs and reaching out into the darkness of the corridor.

He eyed the string for a few moments, different scenarios playing out in his head. Then, he decided upon his procedure. After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he put his hoof through the bars and pushed the string by the wall against it to fixate it. Then, he produced his dagger and cut the string a good distance away from the wall, causing it to hang limply by the wall. Putting away the dagger, he reached through the bars with his other hoof as well. He grabbed the string – which proved to be quite problematic using only his one hoof – and pulled it through the bars towards him. Using his hoof and teeth, he then looped it around one of the hinges a few times before tying a knot with it. He held his breath in anticipation. Then, he let go of the string completely.

Nothing happened. Swift had tied the string in a way that didn’t increase or decrease the tension. The fact that it was now attached to the non-moving hinge ensured that it wouldn’t move when the grating was opened.

One successful lock picking attempt later, the grating was unlocked. When it opened with a distinct creaking, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Swift took that as his permission to enter and did so before closing the grating behind him again. He walked onwards.

The tunnel was quiet long, a hundred meters at least, but hard for Swift to guess. Nothing distracted from the monotony of the walls’ surfaces, except for a few torch holders, which had been placed at an even interval, and the string by one of the walls, leading off into the darkness in front of him.

Eventually, Swift reached stairs that led upwards. They ended at a wooden door shortly thereafter. After he had listened for any sounds beyond, he tried it and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was unlocked. He opened it carefully and peeked inside.

The sight tempted his eyes to wander around, beholding it in all its glory, but Swift forced himself to focus and instead glanced to both sides of the hallway he was peeking in to make sure that no one took notice of him. Afterwards, he entered and took a moment to examine his surroundings a bit more closely.

The hallway he was standing in was the most ostentatious he had ever laid eyes on. On one of the broad sides, the one through which he had entered, large perpendicular windows let in the moonlight. It was a cold light, but it was bright enough to unveil the colorfulness of the decorations and furniture. Red and gold carpets covered a white marble floor, paintings showing natural scenery hung in golden frames along the wall, and the entire ceiling was decorated in fine, marvelous stucco. The door through which Swift had entered was concealed behind beige plaster that covered every wall. A candle holder, set into the door, acted as a handle.

As he examined – and admired – the room, Swift also noticed a big bell, easily his own size and made out of bronze, which hung from the ceiling. A rope was attached to it and disappeared into the wall in which the door to the underground passageway was built in.

Undoubtedly to Swift, this was part of the trap he had seen earlier. Looking back at the wall behind him, he could imagine the elaborate pulley system hidden in it that would allow a pull from the small string he had seen in the corridor to move a giant bell such as the one in that hallway.

A simple alarm, however, would not necessarily be enough to ward off burglars. It needed someone to respond to it. Swift doubted the bishop would do it himself, and he would certainly not entrust his servants with it. There had to be guards inside the building.

Swift had stood in one place long enough. He recalled the map he had seen the day before as best as he could and resumed his way, keeping the windows to his left and heading towards one of the staircases.

A short time after Swift’s departure from the cave, another pony entered it. In the orange light of his lantern, his eyes searched the cavity before they rested on the metal grating on the opposite side of the cave. He walked over to it and tried it. There was no sign of surprise when it swung open. The hesitation that had befallen him mere minutes ago was gone. Instead, when he resumed his way more quickly than stealthily down the corridor, a sense of urgency was beginning to replace it.

As Swift sneaked through the mansion, he found several interesting – that is to say valuable – trinkets on his way: vases, candle holders, and especially the crystals and gems of a particular chandelier in what appeared to be a dining room caught his attention. He had to restrain himself from grabbing all of it though. To someone living or working in the mansion, missing trinkets might catch their attention, and that was something Swift wanted to prevent. He would collect the loot soon enough on his way out... if, by then, he would still have room in his bag after having helped himself in the vault behind the bishop’s chambers, that is.

He was still on the first floor, and his way led him through another hallway, which was faintly lit by the moonlight coming in through the large windows to his left. So far, Swift had not encountered any guards or servants. The house was silent as a grave. As a result, his muscles were tensed, and he took careful steps, afraid that they might disturb the fragile silence.

Then, as he passed a door to his right, the sounds of voices reached his ear. Swift froze on the spot, startled, but quickly regained himself. He made haste to get away from the door, back the way he came.

Before he was out of earshot, however, he stopped and listened closely, trying to assess if the voices came closer or not. There were two of them, one male and one female, but Swift couldn’t understand what exactly they were saying. After a little while of listening, he was sure that they didn’t come closer though.

He made his way back to the door and laid one ear on the door. The voices were clearer, but still too quiet and muffled to understand specific words. After a moment’s hesitation, Swift gave in to his curiosity and opened the door as gently as possible. When a small gap formed, the female voice’s muffled noises became intelligible words.

“...said that their excrement is mixed with blood. Very nasty. He also said that it isn’t necessarily fatal, but poor living conditions and hygiene worsen the effect.”

Swift detected a hint of nervousness in the male voice. “I take it our living conditions aren’t considered ‘poor’?”

“They’re not, but i would stay away from the southern part of town for now if i were you. It’s still contagious. Also, i highly doubt the bishop would share his flower petal with us in case one of us catches this illness.”

“You mean the giant pink petal that was delivered the other day?”

“The very same. Do you remember that expedition that was sent westwards beyond the sea? That petal is one of the curious things they brought back. I talked with one of the sailors, and he told me that a few of them got sick a few days after they had landed on the shore. It must’ve been a nasty illness because it carried its victims off within days. Anyway, they found this fantastically huge flower, which was several times bigger than even the tallest pony. They picked up its petals after they had fallen off. A few of the sick sailors said that they felt better just by being near to the petals, so they took a chance and made a tonic out of one. It actually worked, and the sailors recovered.”

“Mh, sounds like black unicorn magic to me.”

“It does sound like magic, indeed. However, i wouldn’t be so picky if my life hung in the balance.”

“I think i will just resort to staying as far away from the southern part of town as possible.” A short pause followed before he continued with an irritated tone in his voice. “These fools brought this upon themselves. I mean, didn’t they hear the bishop? This winter is a punishment for being too permissive with the unicorns. How many brothers and sisters in faith did we lost during the unicorn invasion when they crossed the channel? Now we pay the price for our failure. But instead of enduring and repenting, these criminals rob and plunder and incur the Lord’s wrath even more.”

“Mh... a lot of upright citizens have starved too though. Repentance alone apparently isn’t enough to please the Lord. I guess some ponies simply don’t see another way other than stealing.”

“Which got them into even more trouble.”

The female voice became defensive. “I’m not saying that what they’re doing is right.”

Another pause followed. Then, the male spoke again. “You’re right though. Passive Repentance alone isn’t enough. The unicorns are what sparked this chaos. What better way to please the Lord than to combat them directly, to regain our lost homeland?”

“You can talk! You’re not even a soldier. There’s a reason why we lost to them, you know. Unicorn magic is nothing to trifle with in combat from what i’ve heard. I don’t see how, in our condition, we could stand a chance against them.”

The male voice was almost excited now. “A unicorn’s magic is hardly a match against the blessed blade of an earth pony–”

Swift decided to leave the two alone as he didn’t think there was more interesting information to overhear. He didn’t regret to listen in though. A giant flower petal that cured illnesses sounded very lucrative and might also come in handy in other ways. Swift doubted that he would still be in debt after this job, so he was playing around with the idea of keeping the petal in case of an emergency. He had heard about an increased number of illnesses lately, but a spread of a proper epidemic within the city was news to him as well.

After a short walk, Swift reached one of the staircases of the house, the one in the northwest corner of the building. It was a round room with a big chandelier hanging from the curved ceiling, and the stairs clung to the wall, leading upwards in a spiraling manner. Swift proceeded.

At about the same time, in the southwest corner of the house and in a room very similar to the one Swift was traversing, another intruder walked up another flight of stairs.

It didn’t take long for Swift to find the bishop’s chambers. He opened the door carefully. The room that came into view was lavishly decorated, just like all the other rooms in the house. On the right side, there was a fireplace with an armchair and a table in front of it. Beside it, a big wardrobe stood by the wall. Across from the door, a broad window front and a glass door allowed Swift a view on the white garden, lit by the bright moon above, and the nearby western city wall beyond it. The bed, a big four-poster one, was situated on the left side with the curtains pulled back. No one lay in it. A metal door was built into the wall in the far left corner.

Swift pushed the nagging thoughts regarding the whereabouts of the bishop to the back of his head, trying instead to be optimistic. His absence will make this a lot easier.

When he looked back at the door in the corner, his hooves started to shake a little bit, and he had to restrain himself from running up to it and yanking it open. Instead, he opted for a quiet walk, all the while keeping his surroundings in sight. When he stood before it, he examined it more closely.

The door was made entirely out of solid iron. The lock was of a more elaborate design than those he had picked earlier. Still, it was nothing Swift couldn’t handle.

The one thing that stood out was the disembodied lion head that was carved into the metal in the center of the door. Its jaws were opened in a snarl, and the teeth might have been sharp enough to hurt upon touching. Its eyes were piercing, a look of a patient, merciless predator, stalking his prey before the leap.

Swift took his time to examine the head thoroughly, searching for something that might have given a trap away. He had no idea how to identify a magical trap or how to disarm one, but he was confident that he would manage both somehow.

That confidence was in stark contrast to the feeling that suddenly crept up in him. It made him pause. He took an instinctive step back from the door. Sweat was running down his temple, and his eyes were opened wide as he stared at it.

He was afraid. He couldn’t explain why though. He had been scared on jobs before of course, but with more and more training he had also learned to suppress the disruptive feeling. The trick was to be sure of one’s abilities, to believe that nothing could go wrong as long as you gave your best. Once you started to doubt yourself or something went wrong, did the fear set in.

But nothing had gone wrong, nor did Swift doubt himself. He had no reason to be afraid of an harmless door... only it wasn’t exactly the door as a whole that put him off.

It was the lion head.

The protruding nature, the aggressive features; it was menacing. But it weren’t the looks alone that were frightening. Swift couldn’t help but feel connected to the head in a way one wasn’t connected to objects. The head had a presence. He was there. He was in the room with Swift, not the effigy of the lion, but the lion itself!

Swift tried to calm himself. It’s just a piece of metal. Nothing to worry about. Get a grip! Then, after a few more moments, he stepped closer again and resumed his work reluctantly. Not having found any traps, he glanced at the lock to decide which lock pick to try first. He looked back to his belt and removed one that seemed like it might fit.

When he turned around again, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. All hairs on his body stood up as he winced and barely suppressed a yelp. The lock pick fell to the floor, clanking distinctly, but Swift didn’t care. He scrambled away from the door as quickly as possible.

The eyes, they had moved!

He stared at the lion head, but any reaction on its part was absent. It still had the same piercing, predatory and unmoving look from before. To Swift, it felt like a taunt. He was sure that the eyes had moved, and he wouldn’t risk touching the door before getting rid of that sinister hex. He picked up his lock pick, exited the room, and closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so.

Swift didn’t know what exactly he was looking for as he strayed through the hallways after that, looking into various rooms as he did so. He passed a guest room, a ball room, and a bath, none of which looked interesting enough to merit a closer inspection. Then, however, he reached a room that stood out from the rest. Swift was still on the second floor, and the room was located in one of the corners of the building.

Upon entering, he saw that it was round like the staircase from earlier. He had to light his lantern again to be able to see in the thick darkness. The room was roughly ten meters in diameter. It might have had windows, but heavy black curtains enveloped the room fully and obscured the view on what was behind them. The blue light of the lantern was almost fully absorbed by the curtains, and it didn’t reach the ceiling, which left visible only the white marble floor, floating in a sea of blackness.

Most notably, however, was the item in the middle of the room. Upon a marble pedestal lay a metal bowl. As Swift came closer, he saw that there was a clear, motionless fluid in it.

Before Swift had the chance to do anything else, steps echoed through the hallway behind him. Alarmed, he darted towards one of the curtains. He lifted it and positioned himself between the wall and the curtain before letting it fall to the floor again.

The steps came closer. Swift was sure that whoever walked there entered the room. Suddenly, they stopped, followed by the sound of a door closing. A quiet rattle told Swift that it was being locked.

Damn it, trapped!

The sound of steps resumed, only to die off shortly thereafter again. Silence followed. Swift’s heart was beating rapidly and he didn’t dare to move a muscle. After what felt like an eternity, a male pony spoke up from beyond the curtain, his voice rife with reverence, a quality normally only used when addressing him, not the other way around. Swift didn’t go to church very often, but even he could identify it as the bishop’s voice.

“My lord.”

The male voice that answered was commanding. It didn’t rely on harshness to achieve the effect though. There was no need. His flat voice demanded obedience by default and was like a facade that hinted at a more sinister quality behind it. It sounded like a normal pony’s voice, but yet it was incredibly imposing and menacing in a way that Swift didn’t fully comprehend, and it made him shiver.

“Have you found them?”

“No, but we will keep searching. They can’t hide indefinitely.”

“I thought i had expressed myself clearly. They must not escape. Increase your efforts!”

“Yes, my lord. We will find them.” A short pause followed before the bishop resumed. “My lord, i have some other information that might prove useful.”

“Go on.”

“It has come to my attention that the chancellor is considering to hold an assembly between the three tribe leaders for the purpose of negotiations. A lot of lords and the clergy, myself included, advised against it, but she persists on a diplomatic solution.”

Another pause followed before the imposing voice answered. “It is likely to be fruitless, but you will see to it to make sure that it is. The chancellor is childish and gullible. Keep telling her that it’s the pegasi that are responsible for the snow. Bend the facts to convince her. Invent some if you must. And keep using your position to spread suspicion among the general population.”

“Is war the ultimate goal?”

“No, the status quo is. Keep everything as it is now. Everything is going according to plan,” the voice said before gaining a harsh edge, causing Swift to wince, “everything but one vital detail. Find Wide Fare! Find the other one! And bring me the orb!”

In the moonlit chambers of the bishop, the door opened again slowly. A head peeked inside, and its eyes darted around the room. Only after having scanned every corner multiple times did the pony enter the room and close the door behind him cautiously.

He had planned to go directly to the bishop’s chambers, but had been forced to hide in a guest room when a guard had shown up in the hallway. The thief had cowered and listened for any sounds nearby long after the guard had already passed the room, before he had gone out into the hallway again hesitantly.

Now, he was in the bishop’s chambers, currently heading directly for the iron door in the corner of the room, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the lion head carved into it. After a moment’s hesitation, he resumed his walk slowly, but kept the head in his sights warily. Then, his view shifted towards the lock of the door. He took out lock pick and torsion wrench, but then hesitated again.

The lion head caught his eyes once more, and the pony just stood there for a while, staring at the relief. A frown appeared on his forehead. The more he looked at it, the more the frown grew and his look became stressed. Sweat was starting to run down his temple, and his muscles tensed.

But then, his expression became firm. Every trace of apprehension was gone in an instant. It was as if some force from within had come to the surface, strong enough to wash away even the strongest fears. And it demanded action.

The pony pulled his eyes away from the head and looked at the lock again. He sat down in front of the door. As he did so, he muttered to himself.

“I promised you’ll get better, and i won’t give up now, not after i’ve come so far.”

He reached out to start his lock picking attempt. As the pony’s hooves drew ever closer to the door, he missed the vicious look the lion head gave him.

Wide Fare!? He’s here? Familiar images raced through Swift’s head: the night, the chase, and especially the mysterious helper. It had been obvious, really. What worried him was that Wide Fare, apparently, was still in the city. He’s after the orb as well, but that still doesn’t tell me on which side he’s on.

As he thought, Swift realized something: The room had gone quiet. It was the bishop who broke the silence, his voice cautious.

“My lord?”

“You are not alone,” the imposing voice declared. Swift’s heart skipped a beat.

“Wha–“

“There is an intruder nearby.”

The bishop reacted with distinct indignation. “These lazy guards! After i’ve dealt with this burglar, i’ll–”

The loud roar that blared through the house cut him off. Swift winced at the booming noise, which no doubt reached every last room of the building and alerted everyone in it. After it had died off, the silence that followed was interrupted only by two words, uttered flatly by the bishop.

“The vault.”

With that, the noises of galloping echoed through the room, followed shortly by the sound of a door opening. By the time the bishop was out of the room and had galloped down the hallway, the house had woken up, and the muffled sounds of commotion came from beyond the door. The roar had spoken a clear language, and it lowered Swift’s spirit. His break-in was cut short. Now, he had to get out.

Peeking under the curtain, he saw that the room was vacant once more. Quickly, he made his way to the door, still trying to make as little noise as possible. Halfway to the door, he glanced back at the bowl in the middle of the room, but it looked just like it had when he had seen it earlier. The fluid was still.

Once he was out of the room, Swift instantly went down the same corridor through which he had come before. The noises of slamming doors, rattling of metal, and hoofsteps emanated from up ahead. So far, he hadn’t run into any guards of servants, and he could do nothing but hope that it would stay that way. Taking a different route out would have been too risky. He didn’t know the mansion well enough.

So, he didn’t stray away from his route. He reached the staircase, descended the stairs, and traversed the rooms and hallways he had come through earlier. Still, no guards. Nonetheless, the sounds of commotion never ceased. As he moved, Swift was able to discern that most of it came from the direction of the bishop’s chambers, but it was moving away from it. Swift wasn’t the target of the guards’ pursuit; that much was clear. But then, who was?

Not taking the time to listen at the next door, he opened it and now stood at one end of the big hallway with the treasured door that would lead him to freedom. He threw all caution to the wind and started galloping. He was almost there.

When he was halfway to the exit, the door on the other side of the hallway slammed open. Swift’s gaze shifted towards it to find another pony, who was galloping directly in his direction. As they both drew closer to each other, Swift saw a dark, meandering line running down one of the pony’s forelegs. Single drips fell from it and stained the carpeted floor. He must have been in pain, but given the distraught look on his face – imprudently uncovered, Swift noted – he had more pressing matters to worry about.

As if on cue, half a dozen more ponies rushed through the same door behind the pony, filling the whole hallway with a rumbling noise of hoofsteps mixed with the rattling of metal. The ponies wore black and white uniforms over metal breastplates and chain mail and carried short swords in their mouths: The bishop’s personal guards.

Swift wasn’t worried though. He may not have had the endurance of the guards, but as opposed to them he didn’t wore heavy armor that would slow him down. He could easily outrun them. Furthermore, he had just reached the door. The only thing left to do to escape was to reach out.

But he didn’t.

A particular detail made him pause. As he took another look at the pony fleeing from the guards, he finally recognized his face.

The amateur thief, Swift thought, a feeling of annoyance rising inside of him. Of course he had to do the break-in on the same night.

Swift realized something else: With the pony limping, the guards would catch him invariably. There was no time to ponder whether Swift should help the pony or not, so instead he acted on instinct. His mind was already working. The obvious solution was to hinder the guards’ movement as well.

The caltrops.

Suddenly, more galloping. This time, it came from behind Swift. He spun around, and his eyes grew wide. Two more guards had entered the room through another door to the side and would reach him within a few seconds. They might get to him before the other pony or after him; Swift wasn’t sure. His eyes darted between them and the other thief multiple times.

Then, among all the noise, a distraught yell reached him. It was the thief. “Wait for me!”

The voice caught Swift’s attention, and their eyes met. The thief’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were wide open. His look was one of utter terror.

A sense of déjà vu suddenly overcame Swift. He had been here before, him, in relative safety, and another pony in perilous danger, begging for help. He had not forgotten what had come out of last time’s decision.

He had made up his mind. He looked the thief in the eyes and spoke. It was just a single word, but the meaning behind it could not have been any clearer.

“Sorry.” It had come out colder than he had intended.

Swift was about to turn around and rush through the door leading into the underground corridor when he caught the other thief’s reaction for a split second. The look of terror had vanished. In its place, hopelessness had come to replace it.

Then, Swift was gone. He dashed through the door, descended the stairs, and rushed through the darkness of the corridor, hoping he would not stumble over uneven stone. From behind, a voice reached him.

“Don’t worry about him. We got this. Get the other one!”

Normally, Swift would have been amused by this sort of repetition of history.

As he ran, the sound of galloping returned. He glanced back down the corridor to see an orange light descending the stairs a few meters behind him. He grabbed the bag with the iron caltrops from his belt. Turning the bag upside down, he emptied it on the ground, making sure to cover the whole width of the corridor. He continued galloping and after a few moments found that his plan worked when he heard painful screams from behind and the sound of galloping stopped.

Shortly after, Swift reached the end of the corridor and left the cave into the night. The sky was fully covered in thick, dark clouds, and almost no light reached the ground. Swift allowed himself a short stop, which he used to catch his breath and light his lantern.

Then, still hurriedly, he followed the path and traversed the old building until he finally reached the streets of the city. By that time, he was fairly certain that no one was on his tail anymore.

It was over. He had escaped. He couldn’t stay by the building for long though as the bishop’s guards would most certainly search the area for him. He started his way back home.

After a few minutes of walking though, all the exertion and excitement of the night took their toll. Swift came across a small animal farm with a shoulder high wall that acted as an enclosure of a muddy space beside the building. The crescent moon had come out again and shone a faint light on the surroundings, covering everything in a monotonous, lifeless gray.

Swift’s breathing was heavy, his limbs were shaking, and his heart was beating rapidly as he shuffled towards the stone wall and sat down on it. He removed his mask and breathed in the ice-cold air, breaking out in a fit of coughs as he did so.

Inevitably, his thoughts ended up with the events of that night. The one regarding the bishop and his mysterious superior stuck out. The more he thought about it, however, the more he became annoyed. More questions! All that this night had amount to was more questions. Swift wasn’t even able to snatch a single bit. With a promising target like the bishop’s mansion, this was downright embarrassing.

And then, there was this other pony. He had sounded the alarm, but Swift wasn’t angry with him. It had all just been bad luck. Swift was used to it by now. Still, he wondered what this amateur was doing trying to pull off such a high-risk break-in. Ultimately, it didn’t matter as Swift doubted that he would ever see him again. You didn’t get away with just a chopped off hoof for breaking into the bishop’s mansion.

As he thought, a nagging feeling rose up in him. In a way, he felt responsible for the pony’s fate, at least partially. However, he had been in this field of work long enough to know how it went: Everyone for himself. There was no honor among thieves.

Still, the feeling remained.

When his body had finally calmed down, tiredness began to settle in. Not wanting to sleep outside and freeze to death, he shook his head to clear it, jumped off the wall, and continued his way home.

Foreseen Consequences

A thorn in his side. That was all that Swift Sleight was to Able Arms. Marberc had no shortage of criminals, and no small number of them solely relied on their seedy activities to make a living, to gain just another day in their miserable lives. As the city guard, it was Able Arms’s and his men’s duty to rid the city of these elements. While it had been challenging to do so in recent years, they persevered and did good work, acting as Marberc’s spearhead striking down to deliver justice where needed like they always had.

Swift Sleight, however, he was a different kind of villain. The thief had escaped Able Arms for far too long now, always finding new hunting grounds, new ways to approach his targets, be it ponies or houses, and always finding new ways to escape, leaving the city guard behind to endure humiliation once again.

Yes, Swift was cunning. Able Arms had to concede that. At times, the captain found himself almost respecting him for that. It was then that he always had to remind himself what Swift Sleight was: a thief, a burglar, a fraud! He was nothing more than one of those elements, low life who made others pay for their own failures in life and who he had to bring to justice for the sake of the city and its upstanding citizens. Swift Sleight was nothing more than a thorn in his side, and he, Able Arms, captain of the Marberc city guard, would be the one to pull it out.

It had been the most recent events that had reignited the captain’s zeal. One of the most daring burglaries in the city’s history had occurred the previous night. At first glance, it had been a duo that had worked together. The bishop’s guards had managed to detain one of the culprits, but the other one had gotten away. Able Arms and his men had immediately been called to the scene to act as a search party, but by the time they had arrived, the other burglar had long since disappeared.

The bishop’s mansion being a well secured building, Able Arms instantly had had an idea regarding the identity of the fugitive. The information on the thief he had gotten from the bishop’s guards had confirmed his suspicion. He had been with the city guard for quite some time, and a good portion of that time had been spent chasing after Swift Sleight. Able Arms recognized the criminal’s handiwork when he saw it.

There was one detail however that didn’t quite fit the picture: There should not have been two burglars. Swift always worked alone. Maybe both thieves just happened to break into the same building at the same time, but that seemed very unlikely... and like really bad luck. Because the bishop had asked to interrogate the captured thief by himself as soon as possible, Able Arms hadn’t yet had a chance to do the same. He was eagerly looking forward to it in hopes of some clarifications.

Not having paid the papers in front of him any attention for a while, Able Arms finally set them aside, leaned back in his chair with a sigh, and looked out of the window. From his office in the second floor of the city guard headquarter, he had a good view of the city. Hundreds of snow covered, dilapidated roofs stretched out into the distance, surrounded by a white wasteland beyond the protecting city walls. The same cold that had the city in its grip seeped into the room almost without hindrance, making Able Arms shiver. A few lines of smoke from some of the buildings’ chimneys promised warmth, but they were nothing but a last gasp of a dying city.

Able Arms gazed for a while, trying to clear his mind. However, the longer he did so, the harder his expression became and the more the unrest in his mind matured. Eventually, he drew his eyes away and let out a defiant huff as he turned his attention back to the paperwork before him with new vigor.

*

Loud bangs on solid wood reached Swift’s ears and woke him from his slumber. He cracked open his eyes and could only barely perceive his room in the dimness, which was opposed only by a faint, cold light through the window shutters. With his mind still in a clouded state, he tried to go back to sleep, but the noise didn’t subside. It kept on going, pounding his nerves and making him wince with each blow.

In an instant, his eyes snapped open as he understood the implications of the noise. The debt collectors had returned, and this time, Swift wouldn’t be able to keep them away as easily.

His eyes started to dart around the room as he searched for his dagger. He found it attached to the belt that he had carelessly thrown into a corner the night before. When he was about to remove it from the belt, he paused.

What am i doing? I can’t face them head-on. They’ll rough me up!

Another series of knocks came from below, followed by a familiar, sarcastic voice. It belonged to the minion Swift had spoken to the day before. “Come on Swift! It’s rude to keep visitors waiting.”

Swift put the dagger back and, after a short moment of hesitation, buckled on the entire belt instead. He took a look around the room, hoping to find something, anything, that sparked an idea on how to deal with the thugs. He could have set a trap, or maybe he could have found someplace to hide...

He paused when he spotted the south window, still covered by the shutters. The knocks were again booming through the house.

Swift sighed. He started moving, but then stopped again. His eyes shifted towards the bed and the crystal orb beneath it. Quickly, he snatched a saddle bag and stuffed it into it.

Then, he made his way over to the table in the middle of the room and pushed it against the wall under the window. He opened the window shutter and removed the rope from his belt. The rope was tied around one of the table legs and the other end thrown out of the window. Before Swift followed suit, he leaned out of the window and looked down.

Below, the mill’s big wheel was attached to the exterior wall. Beneath it, the ice surface beside the house stretched out roughly fifteen meters in width. The southern city wall followed soon after. Swift found himself wondering if the ice would carry a full-grown pony, but he quickly suppressed the thought.

I guess i’ll find out soon enough.

With that, he grabbed the rope and jumped out of the window. He rappelled along the wall of the building, using his hindlegs to propel him away from the wall, until his legs touched the ice. Then, with bated breath, he let go of the rope completely, letting his entire weight rest on the ice. It withstood.

Carefully, he skidded towards the corner of the building. The knocks were still audible, even from outside, but when he reached the corner, they gained volume and were now coming in a relentless rhythm. Soon after, a loud, cracking noise reached his ears. Hoofsteps followed in its wake, and Swift could hear voices from inside. He put his ear against the boarded up window beside him as a pony from inside spoke with a crude voice.

“Boss, this stuff right here looks valuable. If Mr. Easy Manage wants the money, why don’t we just take this?”

“Impressive, did you come up with that yourself?”

“Actually, y–”

“Anyway, yes, we will take it. The boss has made it clear that this merchandise can be considered prepayment. However, he’s not just interested in the money. He wants to make an example of the guy too, which is why i want that trapdoor opened now.”

A third voice responded. “It’s locked as well,” it said before thumps erupted from inside once more.

The leader spoke again, his voice raised to address Swift. “Don’t make it any harder for you than it already is, Swift. If you open the door, we’ll talk this out.”

Another thump, followed by a metallic rattling, presumably one of the hinges of the trapdoor breaking, told Swift that it was time to make himself scarce. He stepped onto the street in front of the house and headed directly for the next alleyway. When he arrived there, he stopped and waited, keeping the old mill in his sights while doing so.

These encounters became a little too dramatic, even for Swift’s taste. If Easy Manage wanted to make an example of him to drive the point home that he wasn’t a pony to mess with, then Swift had just escaped a world of pain.

Then again, if these goons didn’t beat him up, Dibs probably would.

*

Firm steps on stone echoed through the dark and were followed soon after by the light of a lantern descending a spiral staircase. Able Arms’s destination was situated at the foot of the stairs: the dungeon.

The dungeon wasn’t used often as most punishments of the general population didn’t include jail time, but were much more direct and often painful in their execution. Instead, it was reserved for more important ponies like political hostages for example, although even those were lodged in more appropriate housing more often than not. Most of the time, which was still rare, the dungeon merely served as an interrogation room.

When Able Arms took the last step of the stairs, a sturdy iron door, secured with a lock, obstructed his way. He took out a rusty key to unlock it. As he opened the door, its creaking noise echoed loudly in the cavity beyond.

A big cave came into view, pitch-dark and too large to be fully lit by the single lantern Able Arms was holding. The stone walls were natural and abrasive, sometimes mushy where green moss and more colorful algae and fungi clung to them. It was dank, and the overwhelming silence was only permeated by the consistent trickling of water droplets in the dark.

Able Arms was standing on a narrow ledge with stairs to his right that led downwards along the cave wall. He descended the stairs and, upon reaching the stone floor, resumed his way along the wall in the same direction. It was only when his lantern slowly but steadily illuminated a living form in front of him that he stopped.

A male pony in chains sat on his haunches on the cold stone floor. His mane and tail were filthy, and a line of dried blood ran along one of his forelegs. He was shivering, and his head hung low. A plate with bread and water lay in front of him, untouched.

Able Arms put down the lantern. His expression became grim as he raised his stern voice. “Prisoner, i am Able Arms, captain of the city guard, and i am here to get your account on what happened last night,” he said, the prisoner keeping his head down as he did so. “Look at me, prisoner!”

At first, there was no reaction. Then, slowly, the pony looked up to Able Arms with tired eyes and a slack expression that displayed utter defeat. His face was bruised, and he had a distinct black eye.

He didn’t show it, but the sight evoked suspicion in Able Arms. The last time he had seen the thief, his condition had been noticeably better. That was before the bishop’s interrogation. Able Arms wondered what the thief had done to deserve such a treatment.

With a faint voice, the prisoner spoke. “I’ve told them everything already.”

“And now you’ll tell me everything as well. Let’s start with the break-in. How did you manage to enter the building without getting noticed by the guards?”

The pony hesitated, and for a moment, due to his slack expression, Able Arms thought that he was about to fall asleep. Then, however, he started to recount. “There is an old building, abandoned, by the western wall. No one lives there, but it’s still used by the bishop’s servants. From there, a path behind the city walls leads to a secret underground passage. It’s used to smuggle things in and out of the manor.”

“How do you know that it’s used for smuggling?” Able Arms asked, suspicious of the accusation towards a high ranking member of the clergy.

“It is what i’ve been told.”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know his name, but,” the pony said and lowered his head, which prompted Able Arms to cut him off.

“Look at me!” he commanded, not wanting to miss any signals in the pony’s expression that might have given away that he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

The prisoner complied and resumed by giving a description of the informant in question. Able Arms didn’t know this pony, but he suspected that he was an information handler who worked in the background, one of a few in Marberc. Able Arms made a mental note to investigate further at a later time.

“Very well, keep going.”

And so the pony did. He resumed by saying that another thief had gotten ahead of him and had cleared the way. According to the prisoner, the two thieves had broken in separately and without knowledge of one another.

The pony then recounted his way to the vault and described the vault itself. He claimed that the lion head that was carved into the iron door had attacked him as soon as he had laid his hooves on the door. That was how he had gotten the injury on his foreleg, he said.

Able Arms had a hard time believing that the bishop of all ponies would secure his most valuable belongings with such a hex. Since he couldn’t detect any signs of deception in the pony’s feature though and it wasn’t his place to question the bishop anyway, he didn’t dwell on it. He did, however, keep it in the back of his mind to use it against the prisoner in case it turned out to be a lie after all.

The last part of the account concerned the escape and the encounter with the other thief. Everything the pony said in that regard matched the report the bishop’s guards had already given the city guard.

“...i got caught, and that was the end of it.”

Once more, Able Arms looked for any signs of a lie, but he didn’t find any. Given the pony’s resignation that appeared genuine as well, he didn’t have any reason to think that he was lying either. He thought about what he had heard, and one vital question came to mind.

“Explain to me the motivation for this crime. Did you do it for the riches? If so, why did you choose the bishop’s manor as your target?” he asked, putting himself in the criminal’s position.

As much as he disdained to think like one, he was also aware of the necessity of this practice. One couldn’t hope to defeat an enemy one didn’t understand. It had been Swift Sleight who had taught him that unwittingly.

The prisoner once again hung his head and hesitated, prompting Able Arms to reprimand him once more. “You will show due respect by looking at me while you speak, prisoner!”

Once again, the pony raised his head, but his expression was no longer one of defeat. His eyes were reduced to slits. “I didn’t do it for myself.”

Able Arms sneered at him, hoping to provoke more emotion to get through to him. “Oh, is that so? How noble of you. If what you’re saying is true, then surely you must be the most honorable scoundrel in Marberc. Tell me, prisoner, who is the lucky pony you’re talking about?”

As measured by the reaction of the pony, Able Arms tactic was effective. “Me and my sister have never had anyone except each other to turn to. For as long as i can remember, we’ve always looked out for each other, no matter how rough the times were, and they were rough. If the only way to help her is to break into a highly secured manor, then so be it!” He glared at Able Arms, getting an appraising but otherwise emotionless look back.

Able Arms spoke again. “What could she possible need that can only be found with the bishop?”

“We’ve managed to find out that he is in possession of a magical plant from beyond the sea that is said to cure diseases. My sister is sick. Other ponies have already died because of the same sickness. I didn’t see any other alternative,” the prisoner said. Then, his voice became quieter. “And now that i’ve failed, her life is in the Lord’s hands. The problems of the not so privileged are of no importance to the city after all.”

“Rest assured that the city is doing its best to avoid the spreading of this disease.”

“And what about those that are already sick?”

“I’m not here to answer your questions, prisoner,” Able Arms replied, shooting the pony a glare.

It only prompted the pony to raise his voice. “The baron could care less if the whole south quarter bit the dust.”

Able Arms’s response was dangerously quiet. “Watch your tongue, prisoner. I will not allow this disrespect in my presence.”

“He can consider himself lucky that the people haven’t yet resorted to more drastic measures tha–”

“I SAID, ENOUGH!” Able Arms roared, accentuating his words with a mighty stomp of his hoof. The resulting sound was the only noise in the cave after that, reverberating numerous times before dying out and making way for the silence that followed.

Both ponies looked daggers at each other. An inner battle between the two took place, and neither opponent was willing to lower his defenses.

Able Arms was the first to talk. “It is not your place to question the baron or his decisions, prisoner, as neither you nor i have the insight necessary to do so. Your conspiratorial ideas do more harm than good, especially in unstable times such as these. That is why the law states that anyone even expressing them shall be sentenced appropriately.”

The other pony’s expression lost its edge as he seemed to lose the strength to keep it up any longer. Instead, he lowered his head once more, his eyes shifting away from Able Arms’s.

This time, Able Arms didn’t reprimand him for it. He hesitated before he resumed his speech. “However, the law can be understood in that the expression is only harmful if someone willing to accept the same stance is within earshot. Since this isn’t the case right now, i will abstain from punishing you for now,” he said, prompting the other pony to lift his head once more with a surprised frown on his face. “Still, you will face the appropriate sentence for your actions last night. The bishop’s wishes in that regard will be taken into consideration. For now, i have no more questions.”

As Able Arms picked up his lantern, he examined the shaking body of the other pony critically. “I will send guards down here with a blanket. The law cannot be satisfied if the accused dies before the sentence can be carried out.”

The prisoner said nothing, but his eyes didn’t shift away this time. It was his turn to take an appraising look, directed at Able Arms this time.

Able Arms ignored it and instead turned around. He made his way back towards the stairs and into the daylight above.

*

After Swift had reached the alleyway from which he had observed his home, it had taken roughly half an hour until the thugs came out of the house again. As they stepped out, they carried sacks on both of their sides, filled to the brim with what Swift could only imagine were all sorts of stolen goods, redistributed yet again, but most likely not in the way that Dibs had intended.

When they had left the scene, Swift came out of his hiding place and made his way back to the mill. As he entered, he was careful not to run into any thugs who had been left behind to wait for him, but luckily for him, the house was empty.

Even though he was prepared for the worst, his heart still sank as he entered the main room. Crates had been opened and emptied, less valuable items were spread across the floor, and dustless spots hinted at the busts, candle holders, and silver plates and cutlery that had originally stood in their places.

That’s what you get when you live above a goddamn treasure chamber.

He was angry, but more with himself than with anyone else. When he had told Dibs that he wouldn’t cause him any trouble by making his home above the warehouse, this wasn’t what he had had in mind. It wasn’t like Swift was an honorable pony or a stallion of his word, but still, the fact that he couldn’t keep his word rubbed him the wrong way. After all, it had taken quite a bit of work to gain Dibs’s trust, which was now forfeited.

As Swift examined the remains, he noticed some big, elongated rods with conical ends sitting in one of the crates. As he made his way to the objects, he realized what they were. Cantrip had talked about them at great length. Swift took one of them out of the crate to examine it closer. The thick shape only made up half the total length, the other half consisting solely of a wooden stick, presumably meant to be stuck into the ground. A fuse was attached to the bottom of the actual rocket.

They must’ve thought that these aren’t worth much.

He threw the rocket back into the crate. He let his eyes wander around the room one more time before he walked towards the door with a sigh. It was then that he realized that he was still carrying his saddle bag with the orb in it. He thought about leaving it here, in the house, but decided against it. For now, it was safer with him than lying around somewhere.

He left through the door, closing it behind him. It was time to go job-hunting again.

*

Before Swift began his search for a job, he paid Dibs’s shop a visit yet again. Knowing his luck, his (non-existent) money was on Dibs still not being in the city, and his guess turned out to be correct. The good thing about pessimism was that it was hard to be disappointed.

At least, he found a job that promised to keep him occupied for most of the day. Some of the buildings in the city had suffered damage due to the harsh weather and required repairs. It was good business for the carpenters of the city, and Swift did his part by pulling carts with wooden planks and other required utensils to several construction sites to fasten the process.

By the time Swift was finished and received his pay, he was exhausted. He wasn’t a workhorse, and it was showing. Still, he hadn’t complained and instead had been content that he had been given the job in the first place. Furthermore, he had welcomed the fact that the work had helped him to get his mind off of things.

Now, it was dark, the sun having set hours ago, and Swift didn’t desire nothing more than to get to bed. At this point, it had become downright dangerous to stay at the mill, but Swift didn’t have anywhere else to stay.

Eventually, his home by the frozen stream came into view, and he dragged his hooves to cover the last few meters. As he searched for his key at the door, he stretched and let out a hearty groan.

“Goddamn, good thing i don’t do honest work everyday.”

He opened the door and entered. Inside, it was just as icy as outside, the window shutters and walls not having kept out the cold one little bit. The little amount of moonlight that managed to find its way inside through the opened door illuminated a room that, without all the different merchandise that Swift had been used to see inside, appeared unfamiliar and desolate to him.

It was the draft behind his back that caught his attention first, but at that point, it was already too late.

BANG!

It was the door shutting forcefully, and Swift spun around instantly. It was pitch-dark. He couldn’t see anything, but the rubbing of clothes was enough to confirm that someone was standing between him and the door.

Then, an orange light appeared. It increased in strength gradually, illuminating the features of the maliciously grinning stallion before him. He was muscular and wore a brown cloak. A sword was held up with magic, the tip only centimeters away from Swift’s nose.

From behind, a voice made itself heard, threatening in its low volume. “You’re not getting away this time.”

Slowly, Swift turned around. Another stallion stood before him, flanked by two more on each side, all equipped like the first one Swift had seen and all of them pointing their swords in Swift’s direction. The pony in the middle carried a lantern, and in the light, Swift could see that his face featured multiple bruises as if he had been beaten rather badly. The angry expression on his face gave Swift a hint as to who might have done it.

The pony spoke again, his tone cold. “Did you seriously think you slipped through?”

Swift kept any snarky remarks to himself. Even he could see that now was not the time.

The pony continued. “Now, i’m asking this nicely only once: Where is it?”

If Swift wanted to think of a way out, he would need more time. “Where’s what?”

The blow to the back of his head forced Swift to his knees. He let out a groan, and his face was contorted from the sharp pain. Stars appeared in his vision as he raised his head to keep his captors in sight.

The pony in the middle spoke again. “Wrong answer,” he said before tilting his head towards the pony behind Swift. “Search his bag, and then we’ll teach him what it means to get in our way.”

Swift felt his bag being taken away from him from behind. Now that the ponies seemed more interested in the bag than in him, he allowed his eyes to dart around the room, looking for a way out. The windows on the ground floor were boarded up. While it was possible to break them with a few good kicks, it would have taken too long, giving his captors enough time to catch him again. The trapdoor to his room was opened, so he could have entered it quickly, but then what? He had escaped through one of the windows before, but he had used a rope to do so. Again, it would have taken too much time to attach one. There was also the main door behind him, but in Swift’s momentary position, separated from it by a bulky stallion with a sword, it didn’t seem to be a promising escape route either.

The voice from behind Swift interrupted his thoughts. “It’s here!”

Swift could see from the satisfied expressions on the ponies’ faces before him that it was over. They had the orb, and he wouldn’t be able to snatch it away from them again. With an absurd amount of luck, he could have escaped, but what would he have accomplished by that? He wouldn’t have been able to gain enough money to pay off his debts without the orb, and even if he could have, the debt collectors would break his limbs anyway. He would have to find a new home, maybe even outside of Marberc, without money, without help, without anything.

It was over.

Oddly enough, Swift’s hectic mind suddenly calmed down as he came to that conclusion. The anxiety remained, but what little drive had been there before, was now entirely gone. He felt completely drained. In a way, it was almost liberating.

The leader addressed Swift again, prompting Swift to look at him with tired eyes. “You see this?” he asked, pointing at his face. “You did that, remember? And now, i’m going to return the favor. An eye for an eye. Isn’t that what you earthers say?”

Swift’s response didn’t carry any sense of defiance. “Do your worst.”

The pony set down the lantern on the crate beside him. He sheathed his sword slowly and stepped forwards until he towered over Swift. Then, he drew his hoof back, readying the first blow and showing his teeth as his face took on a fierce expression. Swift just closed his eyes, awaiting the impact.

What came was not what he expected.

With a snap, a short flash of white light permeated Swift’s closed eyelids and was gone as fast as it had come. The tinkling noise that came afterwards hung in the air like tiny chimes.

His eyes shot open, and his head darted to his left from where light and sound had come. Where, before, there had been nothing but air and dust, now stood a stallion. His middle-aged features, the yellow coat, and the sword and shield were instantly familiar to Swift, but it wasn’t until his eyes met the newcomer’s horn that realization hit him.

For a brief moment, there was no movement, and no sound could be heard as everyone in the room held their breaths, processing what had just happened and anticipating what came next. While Swift and his captors were stunned with their eyes wide open, staring at the newcomer in disbelief, his eyes were fixed on the villains, and his expression was firm but concentrated, seemingly waiting for the others to make the first move.

He didn’t have to wait for long as the distinct sound of a sword leaving its sheath finally disturbed the quietness. The leader was drawing his sword with his magic.

He didn’t get farther than that though. A yellow bolt appeared at the newcomer’s horn and rushed towards the pony. He was hit with a loud thump as if something heavy hit a hard surface with a lot of force. His body went limp even before it hit the ground, and the sword followed with a clang on the floor.

With that, the fight was on. With sudden strength rushing back to all his limbs, Swift leapt back to his hooves and dashed past the wall of ponies before him. They didn’t attempt to stop him, but instead drew their swords, all of them facing Wide Fare, ready for combat.

Swift hid behind the crate on which the lantern illuminating the room had been set earlier before he turned around. Four ponies in brown cloaks engaged Wide Fare in combat. Their swords circled him and were swung and thrust at him from all possible directions.

But even with that onslaught, Wide Fare somehow managed to parry and block the blades consistently with sword and shield. What attacks he couldn’t parry or block, he evaded instead with smooth but fast movements.

When the attacks relented for a moment, he immediately charged another yellow bolt, which then rushed towards the nearest villain. Bright yellow light and a loud thump once more filled the room as the pony was knocked out. Swift couldn’t help but find himself in awe at this style of combat and the proficiency with which it was executed.

The villain by the door, who had taken the orb from Swift, still held it in his magic. His eyes darted between the combatants frantically, and his legs moved in their direction now and then, only to stop immediately thereafter in uncertainty.

Swift had to get out of there as quickly as possible. Again, his eyes searched the room, but this time he didn’t have to look for very long. Illuminated by the light of the lantern sitting on the rim of the crate, the elongated forms inside of the crate caught his attention. At first, his eyes rested on the forms, but then they shifted between them and the lantern multiple times, and an idea formed in his head. At last, he peeked over the crate once more, directly at the pony standing by the door.

This is so crazy it might actually work.

Quickly, Swift leaned over and grabbed one of the rockets. It took him a bit to open the lantern, but he managed. After that, he held the fuse of the rocket near the flame, closing the distance between both cautiously. Finally, when the flame engulfed the fuse, the following reaction produced a sharp hiss, startling Swift. The fuse was now burning down steadily with a continuous sizzle.

Thump! Another pony hit the floor, accompanied by another flash of bright yellow light. Only two ponies remained to face off Wide Fare, and their number was dwindling. Soon, only him and Swift would remain, and Swift didn’t want to be there to see what would happen then.

Once again, Swift’s attention was drawn back to the active rocket in his hooves. A bit hectically, he laid it on the crate, aligning it as best as possible so that the tip was directly facing the pony by the door.

At that moment, the pony by the door cast a glance in his direction. His eyes went wide when he saw the burning projectile looking object facing his way. With a curse under his breath, he spun around and yanked open the door, the crystal orb still in his magical grasp.

One more look at the fuse confirmed Swift that the rocket would go off at any second. He dived back behind the crate and hoped for the best.

The loud hiss was exactly how he remembered it, and the scrape of the rocket against the wooden crate confirmed to Swift that the projectile was on its way. A yelp followed soon after.

Swift risked a peek over the crate. Outside, in front of the house, the escaping pony lay on the ground with his forelegs over his head. The rocket, however, was still on its way. It whizzed past the pony and towards a snow drift in front of one of the houses opposite of the mill. Without stopping, it used it as a ramp and ascended along the house front and out of Swift’s vision.

Only then did he notice that the battle within the house had stopped and the combatants stared at him and the door with wide eyes.

A loud boom erupted from above the house like thunder and echoed through the streets and alleyways of the city. The red and green light it was accompanied with shone down from above, illuminating the entire street in front of the house and finding its way into the mill through the opened door and cracks in the boarded up windows.

*

Like it was often the case, Able Arms was still at work despite the late hour. He had searched his documents regarding the informant the prisoner had described earlier, but he hadn’t found any worthwhile information. These informants tended to stay in the background, far away from danger, so it wasn’t exactly surprising. Able Arms now had his description, which would be useful, but the city guard didn’t have the resources to start a large-scale search. Besides, such measures tended to scare off the culprits, making it even harder to bring them to justice.

With his work for the day done – he even managed to do some in advance – he leaned back in his chair and stretched, satisfied in having earned the sleep he was about to savor.

Red and green lights suddenly crept in from his peripheral vision, and he turned his head to look out of the window, towards the sensation in the south. He just stared at the colorful circle in the darkened sky, his tired mind lagging behind to understand the meaning behind it.

The loud boom that followed was the wake up call he needed, and it almost made him lose his balance in his chair. Alerted, he jumped up and immediately made a dash for the door. He yanked it open and called out to the guards on the lower floor as he rushed towards the stairs.

“Arm yourselves! We move out. The south quarter, now!”

*

Swift imagined his thoughts being loud enough to pierce through the fragile silence. Maybe i didn’t think this through properly.

The quietness only lasted mere seconds before swords hit each other again. The fight between Wide Fare and his two opponents resumed, but Swift had seen enough of it. With the escape route now free, he left his hiding place behind the crate and rushed towards the door.

One of the villains noticed it. “Don’t let him get away!”

A sword cut through the air and blocked Swift’s path. In an instant, Swift ducked. He tumbled and leapt back to his legs once he had passed the blade. Soon after, he reached the door and was gone.

Outside, the pony lying on the ground was just getting back on his legs. Swift took the opportunity and kicked him back into the muddy street, causing the villain to release a breathy ‘oof’. The crystal orb lay beside the pony, dirty but otherwise unharmed. Swift didn’t think long about it and grabbed it, holding it with one hoof against his torso.

At that point, he could hear galloping behind him. Risking a glance back towards the mill, he could see that all three ponies from inside were on his tail, their conflict forgotten and now all focusing solely on him.

Swift gained speed once more. He ran for the nearest alleyway, heading north. The nearest city gate was situated to the southeast of where he was at the moment, but he couldn’t exit the city through the gates anyway as they were closed by night as well as guarded. Good thing he wasn’t dependent on the regular entrances and exits.

As he was galloping, the constant rumbling of hooves on the muddy streets told him that his pursuers weren’t far behind.

Swift could now also hear ponies yelling in the night as well as window shutters and doors opening nearby. He was sure that by now the whole city was wide awake.

When he turned another corner, entering a slightly bigger street, he could see ponies standing in door frames and looking out of windows. Their eyes were big in surprise or their mouths wide open to vent their displeasure as he rushed past them.

Another few alleyways and streets and he was finally at his destination. The street he was standing on continued on for a few more meters before it opened up into the marketplace with the minster. It was completely deserted. To Swift, it seemed as if the well in the middle beckoned him.

Only now did he realize that the galloping behind him had decreased in volume. In fact, Swift noted with relief, it was still decreasing in volume, meaning that his pursuers somehow had lost his track during the chase through the city.

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath when a familiar female voice, hissing from a nearby alleyway, startled him. “Swift?”

His head spun around. “Cantrip!? What are you doing here!?”

The mare trotted out of the shadows. She was wearing a black cloak, and the hood covered most of her head. One saddle bag hung from each of her sides. “Getting out of the city, that’s what. Where is the other guy? I was expecting him with you.”

“What? Who?” It took Swift a moment to process what she was saying. “Wait? You mean this Wide Fare guy? Are you saying he’s with us?”

As if on cue, the galloping returned. Within seconds, it regained volume, clearly coming from the street that Swift had taken to get there.

He grabbed Cantrip by the foreleg. “Come on, let’s go!”

She complied, and together they headed towards the well. However, as they were running, something felt off to Swift. There was still the sound of galloping behind them, getting louder and louder, he realized nervously, but something else reached his ears at the same time. It was more running, coming from half a dozen ponies, Swift estimated, but paired with metallic noises.

It lowered Swift’s spirits. He had heard that noise often enough by now.

The orange light of torches around a corner on the other side of the marketplace announced their arrival. Soon after, five ponies, moving fast and equipped with chain mail and swords at their sides, turned the corner and headed directly in Swift’s and Cantrip’s direction. The torches illuminated the blue and white uniforms they were wearing, the unmistakable identification of the city guard.

Instinctively, Swift reached for the dagger on his belt...

There was no belt. There was no dagger, neither did he carry any of his other tools or possessions. He hadn’t had time to retrieve them from his home.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!

It didn’t take long for yet another problem to present itself to Swift: The well was situated between him and the guards. Unlike Swift and Cantrip, the guards had already reached the marketplace. That meant that they would get to the well before the two.

Cantrip came to the same conclusion. “Swift, they’ll cut us off. Let’s find another way!”

He considered the options. Hiding was out of the question. He was pursued by multiple groups, and his strength was leaving him quickly and steadily the longer he fled. He couldn’t fight them either, especially not without a weapon. Finally, the city gates weren’t an option either as he had already realized earlier.

This was it. That well was his one chance to get away.

“No, just run!”

He pushed himself even harder, ignoring his tired body and aching muscles. Both of them drew nearer and nearer to the well, but it turned out to be futile after all. The guards reached the well, immediately leaving it behind to continue their way towards Swift and Cantrip.

Swift stopped. Cantrip skidded to a halt beside him. Her eyes darted between the guards and the pursuers behind them. “Swift, come on! We need to move. Let’s get out of here!”

Swift shook his head and answered between breaths. “I’m not coming. They’ll find us either way. I’m not keeping you though.”

Cantrip’s eyes moved once more, and her face showed even more distress than before. She didn’t move, and she seemed unsure as to what to do.

Eventually, the guards halted before them. The pony in the middle of the formation stepped forwards. His gray coat and vibrantly blue eyes and mane went together perfectly with his uniform.

“Hold it right there! What is going on in here?” His eyes met Swift’s, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Then, he grinned. “Swift Sleight. I would never have guessed that you would surrender by your own accord. I’m not complaining though. Now that you’re here, you’re coming with us!”

One of the other guards spoke to get the pony’s attention, but his voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Captain,” he said and pointed at something behind Swift and Cantrip, “unicorns.”

The leader of the group frowned in his direction before his gaze followed the pointing hoof of his subordinate. His frown deepened.

“Draw your weapons!” he ordered, unsheathing his own sword and holding it in his hoof. The other guards followed suit.

Swift turned around. Wide Fare had already traversed half the distance to the well, closely followed by the three remaining ponies in brown cloaks. They were approaching quickly. Their swords were drawn, floating in the air with differently colored auras around them that gleamed in the dark.

Before he knew it, Swift was grabbed and pulled behind the line of guardsponies. Cantrip was dealt with the same way. One guard stood nearby and kept an eye on them while the others in front had their backs towards them, still facing the oncoming enemies.

Wide Fare was the first to reach them, and he swung his sword to force his way through the barricade of blades. When he rammed into the unwavering bodies of the guardsponies however, he was stopped in his tracks abruptly.

Ignoring the guards, he immediately turned around and made an attack against the nearest unicorn. The other ones, however, broke through.

One of the guards soon found himself facing one of the attackers. The villain’s floating sword was swung at him, but he parried it. Then, within the fracture of a second, the sword realigned itself, faster than the guard could move his own sword. In a flash, the blade was thrust into his neck, coming out on the other side almost in its entirety, besmirched with blood. The pony gurgled, and his own sword fell from his shaking hoof.

With yet another powerful motion, the blade was pulled back, cutting open the neck even more with a sharp sound, and Swift could feel warm liquid spraying over his coat from a distance. The slain pony hit the ground as soon as the sword was pulled out completely. Swift could only watch, unable to move his limbs.

Some of the other guards instantly charged at the killer, forcing him to draw back his weapon to defend himself. The pony at Swift’s and Cantrip’s side also joined them with a furious roar, leaving them both behind by themselves.

The fight continued on, and Wide Fare managed to hit one of the villains with a long slash against his side, opening it up to unleash a torrent of blood. The pony completely lost his balance and slumped onto the ground, all strength seemingly going into the scream of agony he shrieked at the top of his lungs. Wide Fare stood above him and rammed his sword into his stomach one more time before he faced the remaining enemies.

By that time, Swift recovered from his stupor. The pungent stench of blood and sweat assaulted his nose, and he had to suppress the feeling of nausea rising up inside of him. His legs were shaking, his breathing was rapid, and his heart was beating relentlessly. He could tell that he was done for, but his body didn’t allow him to rest just yet.

He turned around to Cantrip, who was shaking and stared horrified at the scene before them. She didn’t even notice when Swift took one of her saddle bags, slung it around himself, and put the orb in it.

Then, he addressed Cantrip. “Cantrip, we need to go!” When she didn’t react, Swift slapped her across the cheek lightly, causing her to blink in surprise. “Cantrip! We need to get out of here. Follow me!”

Swift made his way to the well. He climbed onto it and grabbed the rope. Then, after having checked if the rope was still intact, he rappelled. Cantrip followed his example immediately afterwards.

After they had both reached the bottom, Cantrip lightened her lantern, which she had brought in one of her saddle bags. As she tried to produce a flame using flint and tinder, Swift’s ears suddenly perked up. The sounds of fighting had ceased. Swift felt his limbs calling him to action at the silence, and when the lantern finally illuminated their surroundings, the sound of trotting came dangerously close to the opening of the well above them. Quickly, they hurried along, following the underground passage.

They moved as swiftly as possible, but still exercised caution for fear of falling. It proved to be more challenging than expected for Swift, who had a harder time keeping his eyes straight the longer they moved.

Finally, the tunnel ended, and the grating came in sight. Swift groaned when he saw the padlock hanging from it. He didn’t have the key with him. Cantrip, however, was already rummaging through the bag she was carrying.

The sound of steps appeared behind them and grew in volume as she was searching. Swift threw a look back and saw yellow light coming closer through the meandering tunnel. The color was too bright to have belonged to a lantern.

Finally, Cantrip produced a key. With shaking hooves, she turned it in the padlock and swung open the grating. Both of them left the tunnel.

Cantrip was already moving on, but Swift stayed by the grating. He closed it again and locked it using the padlock. When he turned around to leave, the yellow light had almost reached the grating, and the steps echoed loudly through the tunnel.

Swift and Cantrip exited the grove they found themselves in, stepping onto one of the roads that connected the city with the valley around it, the same road that Swift had hurried along, running for his life, merely days ago. The way downhill was arduous. Swift stumbled a few times, barely able to lift his hooves high enough to trudge through the snow.

By the time both of them reached even ground, Swift couldn’t go any further. He tripped and slumped into the tall snow with a groan. Cantrip’s raised voice reached his ears, but it was muffled, and he couldn’t make sense of it.

Swift tried to fight the urge to close his eyes one more time, but it was hopeless. He gave in. As he savored the coolness of his soft bed of snow soothing his aching body, the comforting blackness finally enveloped him.

Author's Note

I promised you gore, didn’t i? There you have it. :pinkiecrazy: I saved it for the end of act I, which this chapter is, at least in my mind.

This chapter was a tough nut to crack. I think the next one will be a little easier to write (and probably not as long). Maybe i’ll even be able to finish it before next year, but i make no promises.

I’ve also realized that the whole first act had a lot of action, and i’m planning on toning it down from now on, at least for a while (or i’ll try that is). It’s funny how it was the focus on romance that originally led me to write this fic. :rainbowderp:

edit: Corrected a small error in the last fight scene. Originally, only two villains were involved in the fight against the city guard. I changed it to three during writing, but i didn’t make the necessary adjustments in the fight. This is now remedied.

A Principle To Live By

The morning sky was gaining a dark blue color, allowing a small portion of light to seep through the perpendicular, glassless windows of the large room. It was an unhomely place, only hinting at greatness from bygone times with its brittle, moss covered stone walls, burnt furniture, and soot stains on the ceiling and walls. Time itself had taken possession of the place, and decay advanced into every corner, sealing the building’s ultimate fate.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t uninhabited. In the back of the room, a throne stood on a stone pedestal, mostly shrouded in shadows. It was an old symbol of power, and the engravings in the stone didn’t compare to the more intricate ornaments of more contemporary equivalents. Fire bowls on stands had been set along the walls of the room. They were still warm, having been put out not long ago. One of the stands near the throne lay on the ground, cracks in the stone floor marking the spot where it had been rammed into it. Oil was spread around the pedestal.

On the throne, in the dimness, a pony sat. At a glance, the unmoving form could have appeared to be a statue, frozen with his face against his hoof. It took only a few moments to realize that it was not, a few moments to realize that the room was remarkably quiet, unnaturally so.

The wind from outside seemed reluctant to enter the room. In the quietness, one expected to hear the sounds of mice crawling through the rubble or birds flapping their wings on the roof beams. None of it dared to disturb the silence. In fact, animals were nowhere to be found. Despite the shelter from the outside world it provided, they too seemed to avoid the room.

A few more moments inside the room and one would have sensed an even more disconcerting effect. The sensation was unknown to most ponies and other animals, but unmistakable nonetheless. While places and objects can cause the mind to sense danger where none is, this particular feeling was directed at the individual, forceful even, a warning to everyone who came near its source.

Suddenly, steps echoed through the room. Initially, they were quiet, but they soon grew louder as they neared the double doors opposite of the throne. Eventually, a pony entered the room, a pegasus mare. Her coat and mane were dark purple, whereas the mane’s shade made it appear to be black at first glance. Her pale blue eyes featured an alert gaze that was focused on the throne, but the neutral expression on her face didn’t betray her feelings. Her cutie mark simply depicted a patch of gray mist, a visual cover that left the viewer wondering what lay behind it.

When she arrived at the pedestal, she bowed down, holding the gesture until the pony before her finally spoke.

The voice was calm, deceptively so because the same sensation that had the room in its grip gained intensity at the sinister sound.

“Opaque, i have a mission for you.”

*

Swift never expected to be allowed through the gates of heaven after the life he had led, yet here he was! With his eyes still closed, he woke up to the lovely scent of hot stew caressing his nose, and the feeling of the warm embrace of his bed must have been how a foal experiences the safety of his mother’s womb. The crackle of fire nearby danced around his ears and promised comfort outside of his resting place.

Swift kept his eyes closed and didn’t move, intent on savoring the moment, but when his stomach grumbled, spurring him on to find food, he sighed and got up slowly. Opening his eyes, he found himself in a small tent, big enough for two ponies. Beside his own woolen bed, there was another one, but it was unoccupied. Coldness seeped through the closed entrance of the tent. Swift frowned as he crawled towards it and pulled the cloth to the side.

The tent had been set up on a clearing. Dead trees enclosed the spot as far as the eye could see with very few live ones scattered between them, lost and out of place. The snow on the clearing was old and stiff, and despite its age, very few animal tracks had disturbed the surface.

Most notably, however, was the camp fire in front of the tent. A small cauldron had been placed on top of it, and Wide Fare and Cantrip were both sitting on logs in front of the fire, eating from bowls in their hooves.

Wide Fare’s eyes shifted in Swift’s direction when he noticed his presence. “Ah, you woke up at just the right time,” he said before pointing towards the cauldron. “Help yourself! It’s not half bad if i may say so myself.”

Swift just stared at him in response, unsure as to what to say. The last thing he remembered was fleeing from bloodthirsty unicorns, and now one, bloodthirsty or not, was offering him breakfast.

When the staring didn’t cease, Cantrip chose to interrupt the pause. “Ouch, looks like he hit his head really hard last night.”

Swift ignored her and instead kept his gaze on Wide Fare. “Who are you?”

“Ah yes, the questions. I’m sure you have a few, but why don’t you make yourself comfortable first?” he asked, pointing at another log between him and Cantrip.

After some consideration, Swift took the offer and walked over to the log.

Wide Fare resumed his speech as soon as Swift had taken a seat. “My name is Wide Fare. We’ve met before at the inn south of Marberc.”

Swift just nodded.

“As for my occupation: Well, these days, i merely travel the lands in search of stories worth writing about.” The corners of his mouth were raised slightly in a smile. “Ponies have called me a chronicler of sorts, but i’d like to believe that my stories are a bit more entertaining than the work they put forth.”

Swift spoke in a deadpan voice. “You’re writing stories,” he stated, wanting to make sure that he had heard right.

“Yes, stories can have more impact than a lot of people know. It is my belief that they can change how they see the world and the people around them. These changes i feel are what the world is lacking more than anything nowadays.”

Cantrip snorted humorlessly. “Oh, i don’t know. I’d say what the world is lacking is a nice, hot summer. I’d like to someday leave the house and not freeze my ass off.”

Wide Fare laughed before responding. “Someday, we may or may not be able to enjoy the summer once again. As it is now, we can only try to make the best of what we have, and i feel that the tribes working together is an important part of it.”

“Yeah, right!” Cantrip said, rolling her eyes. “Next, you’re telling us all about the magical power of friendship.”

Wide Fare tilted his head appraisingly. “I don’t know about that.”

Swift felt the need to bring the conversation back in the right direction. “Anyway, you’re surprisingly good with the sword for someone who just writes stories. Fighting like you do doesn’t strike me as something storytellers normally do.”

“As i said, i travel a lot. I’ve done it since i was barely a stallion. The world holds a multitude of dangers, especially in places i used to explore when i was younger.”

He shook his head lightly as he continued. “But that’s in the past. I still maintain old friendships though. In fact, one of my old friends will hopefully be able to help us in our current predicament. He lives in Emedula, which is where we are headed.”

Swift was scooping some stew into a bowl when he froze abruptly. It wasn’t as if there was something keeping Swift in Marberc. In fact, he welcomed the idea of getting as far away from it as possible. Still, he didn’t feel like humoring the unicorn.

He spoke with emphasis, the suspicion in his tone clear. “We?”

A slight frown formed on Wide Fare’s forehead. “They’re on the lookout for you, Swift. I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but what you’re carrying with you is quite important to them, important enough for them to kill to get it.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

Wide Fare took a wooden branch and began to prod the camp fire as he answered. “Swords for hire. They call themselves The Blackwood Stalkers. While most mercenary units prefer to fight in the open field, their specialty lies in staying undetected and laying traps. It was that specialty that made them a much sought after unit. It was also one of the main factors that granted King Platinum and his forces victory in the invasion three years ago.

“When the invasion ended successfully, their contract ended, and they were hired by a new employer. At that time, the unicorn lords were very protective of their newly acquired fiefs in the expanded realm. They hired mercenaries to protect their land against the other lords.

“The Stalkers were among those hired mercenaries. While their combat skills were excellent, it soon turned out that they didn’t take the mercenaries’ code of conduct very seriously. Another lord offered them a lot of money, and they subsequently turned on their own employer. The deed didn’t go as planned, and it was revealed what they had done. Their reputation was damaged beyond repair. Now, no unicorn lord, not even the most devious, would employ them for fear of losing what is still left of their honor.”

Wide Fare’s eyes met Swift’s. “Most of the Stalkers are ruthless professionals, Swift. If i let you go, you’d be in grave danger. It’s best if you stay with me.”

He lowered his voice pensively. “Besides, the orb may have plans of its own with you.”

“Are you telling me that ball can think?” Swift asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Well, it is a magical item, and although it’s rare, some of them are said to have some kind of intelligence.”

He shook his head. “Arcane theory tends to go over my head though, which is yet another reason to see Astratitus as soon as possible.”

“Astratitus, huh?” Swift asked, chewing his stew thoughtfully. He thought back to the pony in white robes, who had given him the orb in that fateful night. “Where is that crystal ball from anyway? And who was that pony in white robes? You know who i’m talking about. You were there after all, weren’t you?”

Wide Fare nodded. “That i was. The pony you’ve met belongs to The Order Of The Silent Word. It is that order that keeps these orbs and the prophecies they contain.” He tilted his head towards the tent. “That artifact isn’t the only one of its kind, you know?

“As for the pony: I was supposed to meet him in Marberc, receive the orb, and take it to Astratitus after that to have it examined. The order thinks that, apart from the prophecy, it contains secrets that first need to be decrypted. Astratitus has helped the order before in that regard.

“As you know, it didn’t turn out like that. I tried to keep the attackers away from you, but by the time i was done with them, you had already vanished.

“I went back to the crossing after that. Luckily, the mercenaries were too occupied with chasing you to care about the pony they had left behind. I told him to get back to the order to tell them what had happened. Then, i followed you into the city.”

A detail in the story made Swift pause. “How come you chose Marberc of all places as your meeting spot? The pony came from the west, and he told me that i should bring the orb to Astratitus in Emedula, which is also in the west.”

“Ah, i commend your attentiveness. We chose the city exactly because it doesn’t lie on the way. We hoped that the grasp of the Stalkers doesn’t reach that far.” He twisted his mouth as he continued. “We were wrong. Marberc is actually in relative proximity to the order. You are right though. Emedula lies far to the north west, beyond the sea. I only managed to cross the distance so quickly by using a teleport spell.”

When Wide Fare noticed the questioning look on Cantrip’s face, he smiled. “This,” he said as his horn flared in a yellow light. With a white flash, he was gone, and Cantrip’s jaw almost hit the ground.

A few seconds passed, during which Cantrip’s mouth stayed wide open. Then, with another flash and a tinkling noise in the air, Wide Fare reappeared, sitting in the exact same position on the log as if he had never left it in the first place.

His smile at the sight of Cantrip was now a result of genuine amusement. “...is a teleport spell. It allows unicorns to visit locations in the blink of an eye. The better the unicorn’s familiarity with the location, the easier the spell. However, even in its simplest form, it’s complicated magic, and a proper wizard would perform the spell much more cleanly than i am capable of. In fact, when i teleported to Marberc, the spell misfired, and i reappeared a bit south of the city.”

He laughed softly and humorlessly. “Now that i think about it, nothing really worked as planned lately.”

After that, Cantrip assaulted Wide Fare with questions regarding magic. He started to tell her about different spells and their uses, and Cantrip listened keenly, though interrupting him now and then to redirect the conversation towards the more interesting spells, the more spectacular ones.

Wide Fare didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was just as enthusiastic to satisfy her curiosity as she was indulging in it.

Swift didn’t take part in the conversation, though he did listen. The topic of magic was interesting for sure, but there were still more urgent questions plaguing his mind. When the conversation reached a pause, he spoke up again.

“So, who do these Stalker characters work for now?”

The smile on Wide Fare’s face vanished. His response was delayed, and he kept his eyes at the flames as he spoke. For just a moment, Swift thought that Wide Fare’s gaze had become detached, changing into an expression that displayed deep thought or reminiscence.

Then, however, the expression was gone as fast as it had come, leaving Swift to wonder if it had been there in the first place.

“I don’t know... but if he is after a prophecy, he must have a plan.”

The words made Swift’s thoughts go back two nights prior, back to the night of the break-in. The commanding voice was still fresh in his memory, hard to forget.

The bishop even addressed him with ‘lord’... and the voice explicitly told him to find me. Cantrip’s right: i am in great demand at the moment.

Swift had already opened his mouth to talk, but then thought otherwise. What he had experienced in the manor wasn’t of immediate importance. Besides, Swift still couldn’t be sure if Wide Fare was trustworthy. Maybe his rescue was just part of an intricate plan to gain Swift’s trust, only to deliver him directly to the enemy afterwards. This wasn’t even a far-fetched idea considering that the voice in the manor had referred to Wide Fare by name.

Whoever is behind this knows Wide Fare, which means that Wide Fare could know him as well, despite what he claims.

Swift glanced over at the unicorn, who was eating from his bowl while watching the flames dancing and crackling. His look was neutral, unreadable.

Yes, for now, it was best for Swift to keep some secrets of his own. Knowledge is power after all.

Eventually, Wide Fare laid down his emptied bowl and stood up. “We should pack up and continue our journey. I made sure to get as far away from the city as possible, but we’re still relatively close to it. We shouldn’t press our luck any more than we already have.”

With that, he walked over to the tent. “Swift, we would be very grateful if you too would carry some of the load from now on.”

“Well, i guess i don’t have,” Swift began before he interrupted himself. “Wait a moment! We?” His eyes darted towards Cantrip, and his voice was cautious but curious. “What have you done?”

All of a sudden, Cantrip was exceedingly interested in the camp fire she was prodding with a stick. Her mouth was pursed in thought. “Ahem...”

When no answer came, Swift turned to Wide Fare with raised eyebrows. Wide Fare’s eyes in turn alternated between Swift and Cantrip a few times before he explained.

“She’s coming with us because the enemy has found out that there’s a link between you two. As long as they’re looking for us, she runs the risk of getting involved too.”

He hesitated before he resumed. “In fact, that link is how they found you yesterday. It was sheer luck that i happened to witness how the mercenaries closed in on her. When they left the inn, i instantly went over to her, and she told me what she had told them. We arranged to meet at the well to leave the city, before i went after the Stalkers, trying to get ahead of them. Luckily, i made it before they could harm you significantly.”

Swift took a moment to process what he was saying, all the while keeping up a blank stare. Then, he shot a glare in Cantrip’s direction. “You told them where i live!?”

She lifted her hooves in a defensive manner. “Hey look, i had no choice. They were threatening me! What was i to do?”

“How did they even find out that you know me?”

Cantrip looked away, and her ears flattened against her head. Her voice was small. “I may have mentioned your name once or twice.”

Swift’s immediate and instinctive response was to moan loudly. “Didn’t you see that they were up to no good?”

A frown was now appearing on Cantrip’s forehead, and when she spoke again, every bit of shyness in her voice had vanished. “Well, sorry for not thinking much of it. In case you haven’t noticed, you deal with shady ponies all the time.”

Before Swift could retort, Wide Fare stepped in. “Mistakes can happen. I’m sure Cantrip meant for no harm to come of it. For now, i’d be grateful if someone helped me to break camp.” He looked at both of them expectantly yet friendly.

Without any more words, Cantrip got up and headed towards the tent, leaving Swift alone.

Of all the things that could have happened, it was Cantrip who had led them to Swift knowingly! He couldn’t believe it. Swift wasn’t exactly one to stay out of danger, but at least he didn’t ran head first into it... well, at least not when lives were at stake.

Stupid mare!

Swift stood up, walked a few steps away from the fire, and leaned down to grab a good amount of snow from the ground with both of his hooves. Then, he returned to the camp fire and threw the snow into the flames. They were extinguished instantly, causing the hot logs to hiss loudly and emit smoke that rose into the gray morning sky.

*

A wide expanse of monotonous white and gray stretched out to unknown lengths all around. Where once lush forests and green plains had been, now was barren land, uninhabited and largely devoid of life. In this wasteland, three ponies walked to the west, following the old, desolate road.

Swift and Cantrip hadn’t spoken a single word since they had decamped that morning, and Swift was thankful for it. In fact, he didn’t talk to Wide Fare either, blocking his attempts at idle conversation multiple times before Wide Fare eventually gave up.

It wasn’t that he was sulky. His initial surge of anger had receded a short time after they had continued their journey. However, it didn’t fade away entirely. A small part of it lingered, though it wasn’t directed at neither of his traveling companions.

The three didn’t meet any other travelers, but they passed hints of civilization along the way. Lonely inns by the roadside were the most common sight. Weak lights from inside told the group that there were ponies in some of them, but the three didn’t enter. Considering they were on the run, it was best to be seen by as few ponies as possible Wide Fare argued.

The farms that also lay on the way had been damaged by the weather severely, and the fields and orchards around them obviously hadn’t yielded any produce in a long time. No one lived there anymore, most former owners having already fled into the larger cities or even the country. Those who hadn’t fled were most likely dead. These days, the farms’ sole purpose was to provide shelter for the few ponies that still traveled the road.

A few hours after nightfall, after a long and continuous march, the group reached an abandoned village through which the main road led. Despite it being anything but inviting, Wide Fare decided to set up camp, and Swift, tired as he was, didn’t feel like objecting.

It didn’t seem like there was anyone else in the village, and they soon settled on one of the lesser damaged houses as their camp site. Wide Fare ignited a fire, and the three of them ate their evening meal. After that, Swift contented himself with the bedroll Wide Fare had in his possession and left the tent for Wide Fare.

*

When Swift woke, it took him a moment to orient himself. The lack of light despite the holes in the roof told him that it was still dark outside.

Wondering why he woke so early, his whole body suddenly became stiff, and he listening tensely for any suspicious noises nearby. However, when Cantrip’s soft snoring and the faint howl of the wind outside were the only audible sounds, he relaxed. Waking up with no bad surprises waiting for him was starting to become an oddity.

Swift didn’t want to wait until the others woke up as well, so he got up and left the house for an early stroll.

The sky was clear, and the light of the stars and moon allowed Swift to find his way around the village. It was a small hamlet, consisting of roughly a dozen half-timber houses, all of them being in different stages of decay. Wooden fences, sticking out of the tall snow, were all that remained of the fields and enclosures for keeping farm animals.

As Swift walked, it started to snow. Slowly but surely, little snow flakes appeared all around and sunk to the ground, adding to the thick cover that smothered the village like soil on a grave. The nocturnal lights bathed the scene in a cold, unchanging light, and somewhere in one of the houses, the breeze wailed softly.

When Swift came to the center of the village, he approached the church. Like the minster in Marberc, it was made out of stone, but it lacked the intricate reliefs of said building. Still, it was easily the tallest and most robust structure in the village, a former bastion of hope for the ponies of the town.

In front of the church’s entrance, within the enclosure that surrounded the building, there was the graveyard, and Swift walked up to the metal fence to take a look at it. Grave stones and wooden, star shaped religious symbols marked the resting places of the villagers. Some of them were plain in their design, others featured depictions of angels and abstract but artistic ornaments. It made the presence of what caught Swift’s eye next even more peculiar.

Even more grave markings filled out the entire graveyard’s remaining space, but these ones were smaller, barely sticking out of the snow in often askew angles. They were also constructed much more crudely with random twigs and branches having been put together using tied cloth and rusty nails. A lot of them were already broken.

Swift just stood there for a while. Despite being on the run and despite losing control over his life more than ever before, he was able to relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The eerie atmosphere evoked a familiar sensation in him. He always treasured it during his nightly forays through the city, when he was in control, even though, just like now, it was just an illusion.

The sensation he felt now was similar to that, but still different as the touch of anger from earlier came with it.

All of a sudden, the sound of hooves in the snow made his ears perk up, and he spun around.

Wide Fare greeted him while he continued his way in Swift’s direction. “Ah, there you are! Good morning!”

Swift decided that the best course of action was to resume his walk slowly, allowing Wide Fare to catch up if he so desired.

Wide Fare did, and soon Swift found himself wandering the village side by side with him. Some time passed before Wide Fare broke the silence.

“Did you know that it’s winter?”

Swift didn’t put much effort into his sarcastic delivery. “How can you tell?”

“I guess that didn’t come out quite right. What i mean is that it’s winter season. The days are shorter, and the sun hangs low. The Astronomical Circle, the society responsible for moving the heavenly bodies, has maintained the regular movements for the past three years. They think that upholding the natural order as much as possible may cause this anomaly to go away.”

“Good to know that even the unicorns are clueless.”

Though it was subtle, Wide Fare’s voice became more firm ever so slightly. “I know i am a stranger to you, Swift, and therefore it is only normal for you to be wary of me, but i want to make sure that you don’t feel the same way about Cantrip.”

“You seem to know her pretty well if you can tell whether someone should be wary of her or not.”

“I’ve met her a day before i found you actually, and i know her well enough to say that what happened wasn’t her fault.”

“It wasn’t?”

“That’s not what i meant.”

Silence followed, but it didn’t save Swift. “Well?”

“Why do you care about it anyway?”

Wide Fare answered half jokingly. “Well, i’m the one with the prospect of having to endure two wranglers on a multiple week long journey across the lands.”

Swift stopped in his tracks and sighed pointedly before responding. “Look, i don’t blame her, reason being that i would have done the same had i been in her position. Don’t worry about it. We’re fine. I’m fine. Alright?”

Wide Fare took his time to look at Swift appraisingly before he answered. “Alright.”

He examined the sky that was gaining a faint gray color as they were speaking. “It’s starting to dawn. I’ll go and wake up Cantrip, and then we should eat something. It’s best if we leave early.”

With that, Wide Fare turned around. Swift kept him in his vision as the unicorn made his way back towards the camp.

Swift meant what he had said to Wide Fare. He would have done the same if he had been in Cantrip’s position. That alone was enough to evoke that nagging feeling once again. He should have known better.

But that was of no matter anymore. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

When Wide Fare turned the corner of a house, he finally disappeared from Swift’s sight.

Yes, i’m fine as long as no one complicates matters. Everyone for himself, he thought.

Everyone for himself.

Author's Note

Wow, that took longer than expected. I actually had a good idea regarding the contents of this chapter. It shows you that laziness is one of the most impeding factors when you should get things done.

Acquaintances

Breakfast was quick, and the sun hadn’t even risen yet when the three ponies were packing their bags. Cantrip was as reticent with Swift as she had been the previous day, but Swift couldn’t tell if it was due to their quarrel or because Wide Fare had woken her – according to her – rather untimely.

Wide Fare was in the process of putting away the eating utensils. “Today’s march will be short. We should reach Anwearda pretty soon… or Tölthaven if you prefer. You may have heard that the city was renamed after the annexation. From there, we will take a ship to get to the unicorn homeland.”

Swift looked up from the saddle bag he was packing. “Why even bother? Is there a reason why you don’t just get us there with your magic?”

Wide Fare nodded. “There is. A unicorn can teleport him- or herself, but not other living things. Some wizards think that it’s possible and are researching the subject, but so far, no one has ever managed to do it.”

“But you can teleport yourself with all your stuff. Why not teleport the orb and be done with it?”

“It doesn’t work that way. Remember what i told you about magical objects? Magic tends to,” Wide Fare began before he gazed into the air, searching for the right word, “invigorate lifeless material when it becomes part of it. In a way, the object becomes a living thing, although not necessarily intelligent. The way i understand it, the properties it gains aren’t as much caused directly by the magic, but by the reorganization of its–”

Swift interjected with an elongated release of air. “So, in other words, it’s alive and therefore cannot be teleported.”

“If you will.”

Swift’s eyes shifted towards the bulging pouch that Wide Fare carried close to his body at all times. Swift’s dry statement contrasted with the new sensation that built up inside of him. He was reluctant to call it fear, but he became more and more convinced that the earth ponies’ suspicion towards magic was well justified. His encounter with the lion head in the mansion now also appeared in a new light. He held back a shudder.

When Wide Fare had fastened all the baggage to his body, he took one last look around the room. “I think we have everything. Sorry about the meager breakfast, but i’m running short on supplies. We’ll be able to have a proper meal once we’re in Anwearda. Let’s go!”

They left the village behind and resumed their way to the west. The sun still hadn’t risen yet, but it was bright enough, the stars being doused one after the other, for the group to find their way around. It was the coldest day that Swift had experienced in recent memory, and his cloak did a poor job of keeping him from shivering.

The prospect of reaching Anwearda confronted Swift with a dilemma. The group was currently on its way to Emedula, but Swift had no business of his own in the capitol of the unicorns. Neither did he care about any obscure plans of a thinking glass ball.

Besides, Wide Fare had yet to prove that he wasn’t leading them into a trap. Yes, he had fended off Swift’s pursuers, killed them even, but that didn’t clear the connection between Wide Fare and the voice that Swift had heard in the manor. Deciding that the latter weighed heavier was the smart thing to do.

So, the obvious alternative was to part from the group and start anew. Anwearda was a big city. It was sure to offer a lot of opportunity. At least, that’s what Swift assumed, never having been to a city beside Marberc. The life of a thief didn’t grant the luxury of travel. He wouldn’t stay for long though – not with those goons still on the lookout for him – just long enough until he had enough bits to get him to the next city.

And on that note...

Swift looked at Wide Fare, who walked in front of him. The pouch that hung from Wide Fare’s neck swung to the sides with each step, revealing itself to Swift from time to time. A teasing display. With Wide Fare keeping his eyes at the orb the whole time, it wouldn’t be as easy to get hold of it as before. Then again, where’s the fun in easy money?

*

Just as Wide Fare had said, their trek turned out short for the day. After two hours of travel, the group reached the end of a dead forest through which the road led. Beyond, a wall of white towered over the lands, probably steep, snowy hills some distance away… though they were astoundingly even at the ridges.

It was when the group stepped out of the forest that something else attracted Swift’s attention. Below them, in the lowlands that abutted the forest, a city came into view. Its appearance didn’t stray too far from Marberc’s. A gray wall surrounded it, and the pointed tower of the city’s minster stuck out among all other buildings. A river, a silver line in an ocean of white, came from the south, ran through the city, and meandered to the north and out of sight. The plain around the city was bare, except for a few abandoned farms and several roads from different cardinal directions that all coalesced in front of one of the city gates.

Nothing would have been out of the ordinary hadn’t it been for the white hills that Swift had seen earlier. Only, they weren’t hills. An enormous wall, its white stone gleaming in the sunlight, divided the land. It followed the natural curves of the river as far as the eye could see. Swift tried to ascertain its length, but it kept on going and going until it disappeared behind a hill in the south or became blurry far away to the north.

Wide Fare voice diverted Swift’s attention, and he closed his mouth again. “The border. And over there,” he said, pointing a hoof towards the city, “Anwearda, easternmost settlement of Anhorelia. It has one of the largest harbors on the entire continent. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a ship that takes us across the channel. Come!”

Wide Fare started his descend into the lowlands, but Swift didn’t move. He was standing before the gateway to another kingdom, to the enemy’s kingdom as some would say. It didn’t matter to Swift whether he dealt with earth ponies, unicorns, or pegasi. Most likely, the were all equally self-absorbed and depraved. What did matter, however, was whether the unicorns saw it the same way.

Cantrip called over to Wide Fare. She hadn’t moved either. “What, we just walk in? Aren’t they afraid of spies entering the country or something?”

Wide Fare called over his shoulder. “That’s what passes are for.”

Swift chimed in. “What makes you think we have passes?”

“Don’t worry. Mine should be enough to get us in.”

Wide Fare waved for them to follow and resumed his way into the lowlands. Cantrip and Swift came after him, albeit with a few moments of hesitation.

As they were nearing the eastern gate, movement through slits in the wall, in line with the roofed wall walk, caught Swift’s eyes. They were watched. No weapons pointed in their direction as far as Swift could see, but it didn’t fool him.

A moat filled with water surrounded this side of the city walls, and the group crossed a lowered draw bridge to reach the closed gate. It was tall, easily six meters in height, and made out of dark iron. A battering ram would have had a hard time getting through.

Wide addressed the two earth ponies. “Leave the talking to me.” He stepped forwards and lifted his hoof to knock.

Before he had a chance to do so, a small blue shimmer appeared in the gate. It enveloped a closed rectangular loophole and opened it with a metallic clang. The entire gate droned audibly.

A stallion raised his voice. “Identify yourselves and state your business in Anwearda!”

“Good day! My name is Wide Fare, and i am here to conduct business with the townsfolk.”

With a statement that vague, even Swift had a hard time figuring out whether Wide Fare was lying or not.

The stallion resumed. “Do you have a pass?”

“Of course,” Wide Fare replied before he produced a scroll from one of his bags with his magic. He let it float to the loophole where the blue aura from before took it and pulled it through the opening.

A few moments passed before the guard spoke again. “What did you say the earth ponies’ names were again?”

“These are my assistants Swift Sleight and Cantrip.” Wide Fare pointed at the ponies in question.

A pair of eyes appeared behind the slit to inspect the two earth ponies. They disappeared again shortly after, and another pause followed. Next to Swift, Cantrip redistributed her weight from one side to the other. Whether she did it out of nervousness or boredom was anyone’s guess.

The eyes reappeared, fixated once again on the earth ponies. “What were you doing in the east?”

Wide Fare answered for them. “When the earthers fled their own realm, they left things behind. We go there and bring back left-behind possessions, deliver messages, search ponies, whatever our employers want us to do.”

That was a lie if ever there was one. Swift stole glances to the sides. The open, treeless plain made for a poor escape route. The tall snow didn’t help. Their best bet was to keep close to the wall.

The guard’s voice interrupted Swift’s thoughts. “Very well, you may enter,” the pony said, giving Wide Fare back his pass.

The blue shimmer reappeared, and the slit was shut. Then, the magic grew in size until the whole gate was enveloped in it. Something heavy fell to the ground on the other side, and the gate gave of a grating sound as it began to move. Slowly, it opened, revealing a passageway with multiple ponies standing in it. Two of them, one on each side of the passageway, held halberds in their hooves. Additionally, swords hung from their sides. Unlike the guards in Marberc, these ponies wore polished metal peytrals. Their shaffrons had long pointed ends at the top, which housed their horns.

A third guard stood close to the gate and waved them to come inside. When the group did, he closed the heavy gate behind them. Wide Fare conversed some more with him, and Wide Fare, Swift, and Cantrip had to endure a search for declarable goods. The content of Wide Fare’s pouch didn’t escape the guard, but neither did the few extra bits the guard received from Wide Fare escape Swift. So far, Swift’s assumption regarding the unicorn’s morals proved to be correct.

Once everything was sorted out, the three were finally allowed to go. They walked the last few meters towards the opening in the passageway across from the gate. When Swift stepped out onto the cobblestone streets of the city, the densely packed buildings, the beggars on the street, and the blend of pleasant and not so pleasant smells were instantly familiar to him. It was just like home.

Wide Fare led the way, heading north. As they walked, Swift took in the city. The buildings, the residents, the language: All of it was exactly how Swift expected it to be in an earth pony city. After all, that’s what it was, and no amount of unicorn overlords and patrols on the streets would change that… at least not so quickly.

The guards stood out like a sore thumb. Firstly, there was their number. In the span of five minutes, Swift counted three unicorn patrols. Either they wanted to show their dedication to the people and their security to gain their trust, or they wanted to choke off even the tiniest inkling of revolt. Most likely, it was both.

Secondly, there was their gear. They were equipped with the same plate armor that the guards by the main gate had worn. Whenever the sun broke through the clouds, it reflected off of it, and there was never a big time gap between the clunking of metal echoing through a nearby street. That kind of equipment was hardly suitable for a city guard, with them having to wear it all day. Then again, they were unicorns. Maybe they had their ways to deal with it.

After ten minutes of walking, Swift noticed the cluster of mast and canvas above and behind the buildings ahead of them. The group turned a corner, and the harbor lay in front of them. Multiple piers reached into the river, which was at least one hundred meters in breadth at that particular spot. Various ships in different sizes were tied to the piers. On some of them, crew members bustled about, but most of them were deserted.

Wide Fare guided them to a tall stone building with a saddle roof. He said that the ponies inside could give them information on what ships could take them across the channel. Inside, Wide Fare spoke with one of the clerks. Swift made sure to stay close to them to hear what they were saying, but to his dismay, they spoke arelian, the language of the unicorns and a language he didn’t understand.

It wasn’t long until they had left the building, and Wide Fare guided them through the city once more “We have run into a problem. The captains aren’t allowed to accept passengers who don’t have their own passes. Apparently, this regulation has been enacted in all ports along the coast recently. The next ship to leave the harbor, The Green Oyster, does so tomorrow. I know the captain. He can’t be swayed.”

Cantrip responded. “Well, where can we get those passes then?”

“They can be requested for the purposes of trade, diplomatic work, and so on, but a regular resident is not likely to get one.”

Cantrip waved a hoof airily. “When something is illegal, someone wants it, and when someone wants it, there’s a way to get it.”

“And it may be our only option,” Wide Fare said, nodding. “Smuggling stowaways is risky, so that should be our last resort. We could try another port, but Anwearda is the largest one along the entire coast. It’s our best bet. First, however, let us eat something. I don’t know about you, but i’m starving.”

Swift inspected Wide Fare’s face. “How come you have one?”

“Pardon?” Wide Fare asked as he looked at him.

“Your pass, how come you have one?”

Wide Fare broke eye contact and didn’t respond at first. The look on his face was one that Swift had seen on him already. Just like before, it was gone as fast as it had come.

“I called in a favor.”

Swift kept his gaze at Wide Fare, but no elaboration followed. “Who owed you?”

“The princess.”

Cantrip, who had quickly lost interest in the conversation and instead had been more concerned with the city around them, twisted her head and stared at Wide Fare. “The princess!? As in the princess of Anhorelia?”

“Yes, i saved her from a precarious situation once. That’s all.”

Cantrip opened her mouth, but Swift cut her off. “What situation?”

If Wide Fare was disgruntled by the questioning, he didn’t show it. “During the war, when King Platinum was overseas with a large portion of his forces, there was an attempt on the princess’s life.

“Princess Platinum has had strong opinions on politics since she was introduced to them in preparation for her time as ruler. She was especially passionate regarding the nobles’ privileges. The nobles thought that she planned on stripping them of all of them once she became ruler of Anhorelia. Needless to say, they dreaded the day.

“A very power-hungry pony took advantage of that circumstance. Princess Platinum is the king’s only child and, therefore, the legitimate inheritor of the throne. Without such an inheritor, an election would normally be held to determine a ruler. The pony’s plan was to kill her to achieve just that and appoint himself as a nominee.” Wide Fare gave a wry smile. “I was in the right place at the right time. We captured him, but he managed to flee afterwards.”

Cantrip chuckled. “In the right place at the right time? Sounds to me like someone had a little fling with a certain princess.”

“Oh no, nothing like that!” Wide Fare replied, accentuating his point with a wave of his hoof. “We’re just friends.”

As the three of them moved along, Swift heard the faint voices of a heated argument from somewhere nearby. Considering the twitch of Wide Fare’s ear, he had heard it too.

There were more pressing matters that demanded Swift’s attention though. “How does one become a friend of royalty?”

Wide Fare opened his mouth, but he never got to reply. A high-pitched scream made them all wince. Swift searched the area to find the source of the sound. There, a few meters to the side, in one of the smaller streets, three guards cornered a female earth pony. Two of them restrained her while the third beset her with a harsh voice and a devastating glare.

Wide Fare was already on his way to the scene. “We’ll have to take a detour.”

Shortly before they reached them, the guard who talked to the mare caught sight of the oncoming group. “Please move along! You’re interfering in an ongoing inves–” He stopped. At first, he simply stared at Wide Fare, but then, a bright smile made its way to his face. “Wide Fare! It’s a small world! What brings you to this lovely city?”

Swift’s eyes darted between the two.

Wide Fare didn’t share the other’s enthusiasm. Instead, he spoke with a composed voice. “I understand that the guard has a problem with this mare, Iron Glaive. What exactly has she done?”

“I appreciate the help, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I beg to differ.”

Iron Glaive’s smile waned for the fraction of a second before it returned in full force. “Still the crown’s diplomat through and through i see.”

Swift’s ears shot upright. This conversation was getting more and more interesting.

Iron Glaive continued. “If you really want to know: It’s just a case of permission of illegal gatherings.”

The earth pony struggled against her captors and called out to the newcomers. “I’ve done nothing of the sort!”

Iron Glaive glared at her. “Quiet!” he yelled before he turned back to the ponies in front of him. “As i was about to say, the city guard has its proper procedure for such instances and is capable to deal with it.”

Wide Fare looked at the mare for a moment, then looked back at Iron Glaive. “That’s not the impression i get.”

The other one was done smiling now. “Look, just move along, and we won’t be forced to detain you.”

“You won’t have to detain us. We’ll go–”

“Thank you!”

“–but once i’m in Emedula, i may have to report a misconduct regarding the Anwearda city guard.”

The look on Iron Glaive’s face was a mix of incredulity and amusement. “What? Do you really think she can be bothered about what a single guard patrol does?”

Wide Fare nodded. “I do since this single guard patrol is stationed in one of the most important cities between Anhorelia and Wrühtlant and endangers the peaceful coexistence between unicorns and earth ponies that the princess is working so hard on to accomplish.”

Iron Glaive looked daggers at Wide Fare. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved.

Finally, Iron Glaive huffed. He turned around and spoke to his men. “We’re moving!”

Without any more words, he left. The two other guards hesitated, looking confused. Eventually though, they let go of the mare and followed their captain down the narrow street.

The mare released a shaky sigh. “Thank you so much, mister. How can i repay you?”

“There’s no need,” Wide Fare said, smiling. “It was my pleasure.”

Swift felt like slamming his hoof into his face.

The mare smiled back. “Thank you again.” With that, she turned around and entered the shop behind her.

The group returned to the larger street and resumed their walk. Cantrip was the first to speak. She smirked.

“That mare was totally guilty.”

Wide Fare raised an eyebrow. “Was she? Well, if the gathering was what i think it was, i don’t think that outlawing it helps the situation anyway.”

“And that guy? Friend of yours?”

“Hardly.” Wide Fare twisted his mouth. “He used to work as captain of the royal guard in Emedula. He must have experienced quite the fall from grace to be working as a regular guard now.”

Swift spoke up. “Like you have?”

“...I suppose so.”

“And i suppose we don’t get to hear the whole story.”

Wide Fare took his time to answer. When he did, his voice was quieter than before. “Not now.”

At that moment, the group turned a corner. Wide Fare pointed at a half-timber house that became visible. A wooden sign dangled over the entrance.

Wide Fare’s voice sounded more relieved than it should have. “There’s our destination. We can plan our next steps in there.”

They closed the distance. Wide Fare opened the door and waited for the others to enter.

Cantrip suddenly addressed Wide Fare. “Hey, i just realized something. Princess Platinum is the ruler of this land, right? So, why is she still called ‘princess’? Isn’t she a queen?”

“Don’t ask. It’s complicated,” Wide Fare answered before he entered and shut the door behind them.

*

During meal, Cantrip decided that she would try to find someone who could forge the documents needed for their passage. Wide Fare, however, insisted on keeping the group together at all times. They were ahead of their pursuers, but not by a whole lot. From what they knew, the mercenaries could already be in the city with them.

Their research didn’t amount to much though. After hours of talking to the right ponies in the right taverns, they found a few vendors of various illegal goods, but no forger. When it had already been dark for a few hours, they gave up for the day and retreated to the inn. Wide Fare said that they may have to leave the city after all, but according to him, there was no point in traveling during the night. The city, he argued, concealed them better than the open road.

And so, they paid for accommodation. A common room was out of the question, so they got one with only a single bed. Swift and Wide Fare left the bed for Cantrip and made do with their bedrolls and the floor. Cantrip was the first to keep watch, followed by Swift, while Wide Fare took care of the morning.

Swift’s sleep was uneasy. He woke multiple times, always expecting a sneering face over him or the tip of a sword at his throat. After a while, he considered to relieve Cantrip early. It would distract him at least a little bit. Additionally – and more importantly – he could also ensure that the job was done right that way. Before he could put his plan into action however, someone nudged him in the side, and Cantrip spoke.

“Your turn.”

Rubbing his eyes, Swift sat up and began his watch. After half an hour of quietness except for Cantrip’s soft snoring, his eyelids became heavy. He shook his head, stood up, and walked around the room to get rid of the weariness.

When he faced the window, the sleeping form of Wide Fare, illuminated by what little moonlight made its way into the room, caught his eye. And so did the pouch he cradled. Swift stood still and watched the unicorn. Wide Fare’s chest raised and lowered slowly and evenly.

Swift took great care not to produce too much noise when he came closer. When he was only a meter separated from the pouch, he lifted his hoof. He could almost touch it. And then...

...his hoof stopped.

Swift frowned. He tried to grab it again, but he just couldn’t reach it. There was no barrier between his hoof and the pouch as far as he could see and feel, but still, whenever his hoof was about to touch the pouch, it recoiled. He tried it one more time.

The faint rumble from beyond the door made his heart skip a beat. His muscles tensed, and he spun around to keep the door in his sights. He waited. Nothing was moving. Now was probably the time to wake the others.

Suddenly, a mare whispered. “You idiot! Are you trying to get us caught?”

A stallion with a dark voice grumbled in response. “Don’t give me that! We wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t lost the map Dibs gave us.”

Swift blinked. Dibs!?

The first voice snapped back. “Alright, just shut up! Let’s just get this over with!”

Shortly thereafter, a quiet rattling noise came from the door’s lock. Swift’s thoughts raced. When the solution hit him, he smirked. Quickly but silently, he hurried towards Cantrip’s bed and rummaged in her saddle bag. The dagger was conveniently within easy reach. Just as the doorknob was turning, Swift was beside the door, making sure that the hinges were on his side. He pressed himself against the wall.

Slowly, the door opened. It stopped just before his face, denying him his view of the room. Beside him, hooves connected with the wooden floorboards. Swift counted the steps. When he was sure that both ponies had entered the room, he tightened the grip on his dagger.

He dashed past the door. Good fortune was with him; Both ponies had their backs towards him. He darted behind the nearest burglar, the mare. A gasp escaped the pony as Swift pulled her to her hindlegs and pressed his dagger against her throat.

Swift’s voice was barely a whisper beside the other one’s ear. “Wake the sleeping ones up and you’re dead.”

The stallion in front of them spun around and drew his own dagger. When the hostage flailed with her forelegs in a negative manner however, he lowered his weapon a little bit, instead opting to scowl at Swift.

The mare hissed through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”

“I should be the one asking that question, but i do you the favor of answering it: I want dibs.”

“I don’t know anyone called Dibs.”

“I never said that Dibs is a person, so i assume you know him?”

A few moments passed, and Swift knew that he had won. The mare spoke again. “Baker Street, The Virtuous Hoofpad Tavern.”

“Thanks. And now, get out of here!” Swift looked at the stallion. “You go first.”

The other one didn’t move and, instead, simply glared. Then however, he circled Swift and his hostage, and Swift mimicked the motion until the other one stood between Swift and the door. When the burglar was outside of the room, Swift pushed the mare into the hallway and pointed his dagger at the two.

“You know the exit.”

The two shot him another withering look, but eventually, they headed for the stairs. Swift looked after them until they disappeared from his sight. He was grasping the doorknob when a loud rumble made him wince. It came from the stairs.

A female voice rang out through the inn. “Fumble, you idiot!” The sound of galloping followed, which became quieter and quieter quickly.

Behind Swift, bedsheets rustled. As he turned around, Wide Fare picked up his sword with his magic. Cantrip, meanwhile, jumped up to her hooves on her bed.

“Wha– what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing. Just a guy who had a little too much,” Swift said as he closed the door.

Friendship Is Business

The dawn revealed a typical morning in Anwearda. Some ponies, those that didn’t have their workplaces in their houses, walked the streets on their way to work. Even more sat by the side and begged. Announced by the squeaking of cartwheels, ponies roamed the streets, loading up bodies. Just like in Marberc, the rural population had fled the surrounding region and sought shelter in the city, and just like Marberc, Anwearda couldn’t accommodate it.

But Swift had worries of his own. Despite Wide Fare’s warning not to part with the group, he was out and about by himself. He had someone to talk to, and he planned on keeping the conversation private.

Baker Street was characterized by two-storied buildings. A lot of them housed shops on the first floor, but most of them were either boarded up or served as shelter for the destitute. The Street must have been vibrant with activity once, but now, only very few ponies, ragged and starved out, shuffled through it.

There were a few taverns, but the signboards above the entrances displayed no motifs that fit one called The Virtuous Hoofpad. Only after Swift had inspected all the buildings in the street did he notice a narrow passageway leading away from it. He passed through it and arrived in a shadowy backyard. Again, the houses and stalls were in disrepair, but one narrow building stuck out. The motif on its signboard was that of a bandit mask. Swift opened the door and stepped in.

The narrow form of the building was apparent even more so in the taproom. A counter was situated to the left, and stairs on the right led from the upper floor into the back of the room on the ground floor. For a good portion of the room, there wasn’t a lot of space along with single tables and a few heaps of straw to sit on. The few small, cloudy windows didn’t do much against the gloomy interior.

The tables were vacant, and the only present pony beside Swift was the bartender behind the counter. The earth pony stopped his rummaging for a moment and looked at Swift with his one eye, the other one hidden behind an eye patch. He spoke with a rough voice, but not unfriendly so.

“Good morning! What can i do you for?”

Swift stepped closer. “I’m here for Dibs.”

“Are you now?” the pony asked, inspecting Swift. “Important business to handle?”

“If that were the case, would it be wise to tell you about it?”

For a moment, the other one’s face was like stone. Then, he smiled. “Who knows? You never know who you can trust.” He gestured towards the door. “Dibs is out. You’re welcome to wait for him here, try out our homemade Black Bandit meanwhile, mh?”

Good thing that Swift had found the time for a spontaneous pickpocketing on his way here. “Sure.”

Swift got his drink and sat down at one of the tables in the back of the room. As he waited and sipped, a few ponies came down the stairs and occupied the other tables. Swift pondered the respectability of the clientele and how many hoped that the city watch wouldn’t look for them in the most likely of places.

About an hour passed until the front door opened, and an earth pony with a dark green coat and dark blonde mane entered. He had a bushy beard, and his cutie mark consisted of three golden bits. Swift just had to lift his jug to get his attention. The pony stopped for a moment before he resumed his way, towards Swift this time.

Swift spoke as Dibs seated himself. “You should be more careful about who you’re making business with. Some ponies can’t keep a secret.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Like where i can find you. Good thing it was me asking the question and not someone else.”

“I knew these two were no good,” Dibs said with a groan. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on staying here forever anyway.”

“When are you going to leave?”

“Soon. But what are you doing here, expanding your territory?”

Typical. If Swift wanted information from Dibs, he first had to give information. “I’ve been looking for you. I have something you might be interested in.”

“You came here just because you were looking for me?” Dibs asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m flattered.”

Swift tried to not let on anything. “Trust me; it’s worth it.”

Dibs considered it before he replied. His voice was different when he did so, cold. “Alright, where are the goods? I need to see them to know if i can use them.”

“Actually,” Swift began, turning the jug in his hooves, “i don’t have it yet, but i’ll find a way to get it.”

Dibs looked Swift in the eyes. “What exactly are we talking about?”

And so, Swift told Dibs about the orb. He didn’t leave anything out, neither details about the item itself nor events that were linked to it. Regarding the exceptional nature of the information, the price could only increase by giving it. It was a risk, though, because some fences might have refused to deal with goods this hot. Luckily, it was Dibs he was dealing with.

Dibs didn’t show any reaction during Swift’s account and waited with his response until after it was finished. “Interesting… Under the current market situation, i think i can give you,” he began, and Swift had a hard time sitting still. The orb was sure to be worth at least several hundred bits. In any case, it would be more than enough for him to live comfortably for a while.

“...ninety-five bits.”

Swift’s jaw dropped. “Ninety-five bits!?”

Several heads turned in their direction, accompanied by interested and amused looks.

Swift leaned closer to Dibs. “Ninety-five bits? Do you know how much trouble this thing caused me?”

“That doesn’t factor into the price.”

“Ninety-five bits is hardly an appropriate price either way.”

Dibs frowned slightly. “I assure you the price is appropriate, Swift. Just look around!” he said, raising his hoof vaguely. “Do you think anyone is interested in magical items nowadays? Damn, i can make more profit selling a loaf of bread than with what you’re bringing me.” He shook his head. “A businesspony has to adapt to the times.”

Swift thought it over. It made sense of course. Maybe he should just take the money and be done with it. That the orb wouldn’t be his problem anymore counted for something too.

After a pause, Swift spoke again. “So, i’ve told my story. What’s yours?”

Dibs’s jaw tightened. “I’ve hit a little snag with the local smugglers who get my wares over the border. They’ve gotten themselves nicked.”

“You don’t smuggle them yourself?”

“Not in Anwearda i don’t,” Dibs replied, shaking his head. “These guys knew this place better than me, and getting goods past the guards is no easy feat in this city. If i knew how they managed it, i’d do it myself, but at least, they were bright enough to keep it a secret.”

“So, in short: you don’t have a plan.”

“As of now.”

That only suited Swift. If Dibs wanted something that Swift had, he might be able to squeeze some extra bits out of him after all.

And that was when it hit him. “Actually, i might be of help.”

Dibs peeked over his jug.

“I happen to know a certain unicorn. For him, getting your stuff over the border is trivial.”

Dibs put down his jug. “Go on.”

“First,” Swift said, raising a hoof, “make me a better offer.”

Dibs nodded in thought, approvingly even. “One hundred bits, no more.”

“Mh, better than nothing. Okay, i’ll tell him about it as soon as i see him. The goods should be in Wrühtlant in a few hours at the latest.”

“What’s his reason for doing it?”

“His own payment: Anhorelian passes for two.”

“Ah ha, so there is a catch.”

Swift was deliberate to formulate his response as a question. “I didn’t think this might be a problem?” Dibs might have been a good negotiator, but attacking his pride almost always worked.

“No,” Dibs said, shaking his head, “not a problem. I’ve provided ponies with these passes before. You just need the right stamp and signature. You can have them in a couple of hours.”

“Thought so. There’s another thing though.”

“You’re stretching it, Swift.”

“It’s nothing big. It’s just that,” Swift began, eyeing Dibs, “when the others i’m with get wind of the part about the orb, the deal is off. It’s for your own good too. If they hear about it, i won’t be able to snatch it, and you won’t be able to get it from me.”

Dibs held Swift’s gaze, frowning in deep thought. Revealing that Swift’s agenda was at odds with that of the others was critical information, and Swift wasn’t exactly comfortable giving it, even to Dibs – no, especially to Dibs. Who knew what a smart businesspony like him could do with that information?

But Swift had to tell him in order for this deal to work out. Dibs might have appeared disinterested in the orb, but that could just as well have been an act. That magical items were not highly sought after these days could have very well been true, but Dibs had traded with rare items for as long as Swift could remember. Some part of Dibs wanted the orb. Swift was sure of it.

Finally, Dibs nodded. “Agreed.”

“Great!” Swift held his jug out to Dibs. “So, deal?”

Dibs bumped it with his own. “Deal!”

Swift emptied his drink with a gulp. “I better get going,” he said as he stood up. He was already on his way to the door when he remembered something. He turned around.

“Oh, i forgot one thing: Do your goods contain livestock?”

*

When Wide Fare heard that Swift had found a solution to their predicament, he didn’t waste any time. Minutes later, the three were on their way again, having all their gear on them. They took the most direct route to Baker Street, scurrying through alleyways and always making sure to check for unwanted company before stepping out onto the bigger streets. The Green Oyster would leave the harbor in a few hours, so there was still time. Still, Wide Fare spurred them on so as not to take longer than necessary.

The tavern had gotten fuller since Swift had left. As he scanned the room for Dibs, he saw a lot of ponies in conversation and little bags that changed hooves. Apparently, business was booming.

Swift found Dibs shaking hooves with another earth pony at a table in the back of the room. As the three made their way there, Swift felt watched. He took a look around and found several ponies glancing suspiciously in his direction. More precisely, their looks were directed at Wide Fare. The unicorn didn’t seem concerned by it however.

When they reached Dibs, Cantrip greeted him with a huge grin. “Well well, who do we have here?”

Dibs’s previous business partner was just leaving the table when he caught sight of the three. “Cantrip?” He gave Swift a questioning look. “You didn’t mention Cantrip.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Cantrip ignored Swift and sat down. “You’ve got some explaining to do. Since when are a few city walls an obstacle for the great Dibs? Also, you missed my big show. You were right; your firework stuff is amazing!”

“I can only imagine what you came up with. Glad it was of use to you,” Dibs said before he turned his attention to Wide Fare, “but you didn’t introduce your friend yet.”

Swift took over as he and Wide Fare seated themselves. “He’s the solution to your problem.”

“Wide Fare,” the unicorn said, nodding. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dibs looked Wide Fare over as he replied. “I’m sure it is. Not many ponies in this city can provide you with what you are after.”

“Then, we are indeed lucky.”

Swift chimed in. “We should get this over with. We don’t have all day.”

Once again, all emotion left Dibs’s voice as he started to talk business. “Very well. I sent someone to the edge of the forest to the east, by the road. Their order is to wait for the goods to arrive. Once that happens, one of them will come back to the city to report. Only when i have the confirmation that my goods are in fact over the border do you get your passes.”

Wide Fare answered. “When can we expect to have them after that?”

“They’re as good as finished. All that’s missing are the names.”

“I suppose your goods are nearby?”

Dibs tilted his head towards the front door. “They’re in one of the side buildings.”

“I would like to see them.”

“I imagined you would.” Dibs stood up. “Follow me!”

The three of them left the tavern and headed towards an adjacent building. Dibs unlocked the door, and they entered a dusty old workshop of some kind. Nearby, a bunch of small crates and items, wrapped in cloth, had been placed on the ground.

Dibs pointed at the stuff. “Here it is.”

Wide Fare just gazed at it for a while. Then, his horn lit up, and the items were gone.

It took a while after they had reentered the tavern, but eventually, Swift heard the front door opening and closing behind him, and Dibs waved at someone who Swift couldn’t see to join them at their table. The messenger arrived and reported to Dibs that his goods had indeed appeared by the edge of the forest out of thin air. Dibs kept his side of the bargain – at least one half of it for now – and soon after, Swift and Cantrip held anhorelian passes with their names on them in their hooves.

Dibs addressed the group. “I think that concludes our business. If there’s anything else you’re in need of, i’ll be in the city until sundown.” His eyes shifted to Swift for a short moment.

Behind Swift, the front door opened and closed again.

Dibs went on. “For now, i have to go and check on something. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wide Fare.” His eyes wandered towards the door beyond Swift’s vision. His expression didn’t change, but suspicion crept into his voice. “I suggest you do not turn around.”

Suddenly, Swift was acutely aware of his surroundings.

Dibs continued. “Four unicorns, brown cloaks, swords at the sides. Sound familiar?”

Swift spoke. “Does one of them look beaten up?”

Dibs examined them a little longer. “And not at all amused.”

Wide Fare’s expression became hard. “Is there a way out on the upper floor?”

“There’s a door that leads to a balcony. It connects this building with the neighboring one. The door of the other building is locked though, and i don’t recommend jumping down with all your stuff,” Dibs said, pointing at their gear. “Plus, they might have guards posted outside.”

“Thanks,” Wide Fare said as he stood up. “And thanks for the passes.” He turned to Swift and Cantrip. “Let’s go.”

As Swift got up and faced the stairs, the mercenaries, in his peripheral vision, were already whispering amongst each other and beginning to move. A quick glance at the stairs confirmed his worries.

“They’ve noticed us. We’ll have to make a run for it if we want to make it.”

Wide Fare tensed his jaw. He opened his mouth, about to say something.

Cantrip’s shout cut him off. “Oh, come on! That’s the best disguise the city watch can come up with?”

The chatter inside the taproom died off. All eyes were on the newcomers. The unicorns didn’t move, opting instead to glare at Cantrip.

Without warning, the air was filled with the sharp sound of blades leaving their sheaths and the rustling of other weapons being drawn. Ponies everywhere armed themselves. The mercenaries rushed towards their target, but the surrounding ponies yelled and leapt up from their seats, engaging.

Swift blinked as something green rushed past him.

“In case you didn’t notice: Now’s the time to run!” Cantrip yelled as she headed for the stairs.

Swift shook off his surprise and ran after her.

When they reached the upper floor, the door at the opposite end of the hallway came into view immediately. They closed the distance, and Wide Fare opened it enough to take a peek.

“Stay here!” he ordered as he opened it all the way and stepped out onto the balcony. He glanced over the parapet, then returned.

“There are four more guards posted at the front door. They are distracted at the moment. I know a spell that allows me to soften someone’s fall, but we’ll have to go in turn.”

All three of them stepped out onto the balcony. Cantrip too peeked down, only to pull her head back shortly thereafter.

“You know, maybe Swift can unlock the door to the other building or something.”

Behind them, a batch of unicorns hurried up the stairs. They spotted the three at once and charged at them with looks that could kill. Swift slammed the door shut and pushed himself against it.

Cantrip took a deep breath. “Right!” She stepped onto the parapet with her forelegs.

A crack nearby made Swift’s ears stand upright. It sounded like...

With big eyes, Swift jerked his head to the side. There, at the joint between balcony and wall, a crack had appeared. Another noise of snapping wood, and the crack doubled in size. Cantrip was about to climb onto the parapet with her hindlegs.

Swift filled his lungs with air. “STO–”

An odd sensation rose in Swift’s stomach as his hooves lost contact with the balcony. Screaming was all he managed. Nearby, other ponies did the same, beside him and under him.

There was the sound of crashing wood. Swift landed on his legs, which gave way under the enormous impact. He rolled over, hit his head, and landed in the snow.

Everything was black.

Then, after a while – or maybe immediately – he cracked open his eyes. The ringing in his ears blocked out all outside noises. A heap of wooden rubble appeared in his blurry vision, and upon it, a green mare and a yellow stallion stirred. Under it, several ponies lay. They didn’t move.

As the ringing faded and Swift’s vision became clearer, a glint to the side of him caught his attention. Just outside of his reach, the orb lay in the snow. Out of thin air, a translucent shell had appeared, engulfing the orb. It cracked, breaking into individual parts that dissolved into nothingness before they hit the ground. Soon, the entire shell was gone.

The sight cleared every last bit of Swift’s drowsiness. He pushed himself up. On the remains of the balcony, Wide Fare helped Cantrip up. On the upper floor, the doorway now opened up into nothing but air. The unicorns were nowhere to be seen, but the sound of galloping hadn’t ceased.

No one except him was even near the orb. It was all his. He just had to take it and run. Swift reached for it.

And just like the night before, his hoof stopped just in front of it. This time, however, there was no spell. He took a look at the others once more. Both were now on their hooves, albeit shakily, and Wide Fare examined the vicinity for enemies. He was about to catch sight of Swift, whose hoof was still only centimeters away from the orb.

Swift grabbed it. He took the pouch that had landed not far away from it, stuffed the orb into it, and hung the pouch around his neck. Without another look at Wide Fare or Cantrip, he ran off.

He galloped through the passageway, onto Baker Street, and in a random direction. Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder to see whether he was being followed. When he was sure that he was safe, he reduced his speed and allowed himself a more thorough look at his surroundings.

He had left Baker Street and found himself in a more populated part of the city. In fact, uncharacteristically many ponies were out and about, almost all of them heading in one direction, the same that Swift was taking.

He had the orb. The next step was to get it to Dibs. It was doubtful that Dibs would still stay in The Virtuous Hoofpad after that little incident. At the same time, he wouldn’t leave the city early either. Dibs might have been a crook, but he was a proud crook. Going against an agreement wasn’t his style.

While there was enough room to move comfortably, the amount of ponies on the street did impair Swift’s vision a bit. He quickened his pace somewhat to get ahead of them.

I can try to disappear into the crowd. That’s something at least.

Swift passed a particularly big group. Beyond, he entered a corridor, its edges consisting of the ponies that cleared the way for the three mercenaries at the far end. Their eyes met Swift’s. One of them lowered his posture, pawing at the ground.

Swift spun around and dashed back the way he had come. The sound of galloping signified the start of the pursuit.

I can’t outrun them. Swift’s eyes darted around, searching for a way out. They rested on an alleyway. Which means i’ll have to shake them off quickly.

He altered his course. He was now heading directly for the alleyway and an abandoned cart of a salespony, which had been placed by the corner of the building past the alley. To the side of him, a pony slipped and fell on the muddy street as she gaped at the unfolding scene before her. That was the inspiration he needed.

He neared the house facades beside him and let the unicorns come closer. Then, upon reaching the alleyway, he made a sharp turn. He was already skidding, but then, he jumped. His hooves connected with the wall of the alley, and he pushed himself away from it to regain stability.

The curse behind him, which was followed by a loud rumble, was what he wanted to hear. Swift peeked over his shoulders. Only two pursuers remained.

An intersection came into view. Swift went left, into another alleyway with multiple, indented entrances into houses. Without thinking, Swift dashed to the nearest entrance, stood on his hindlegs, and pressed his back against the door as hard as he could.

A winded voice echoed from the walls. “You go left; i go right.”

The sound of galloping hooves drew near. Then, a blur of brown and gray rushed past the niche.

Swift released the air he didn’t realize he had been holding. He remained motionless.

Then, when the sound of galloping finally vanished, he leaned forwards and checked both directions for enemies. When he deemed everything clear, he left his hiding place and ran off in the one direction that the mercenaries hadn’t taken.

The street that Swift stepped out onto was busy, just like the one from before, and just like before, the majority of the ponies walked in one direction. Swift had no idea where he was, so any direction was as good as any other. He gave in to his curiosity and followed the flock.

A pair of city guards stood by the side and observed the throng. Swift maintained his course. He had not yet had a chance to gain any infamy in this city, and therefore, the guards had no reason to suspect him of anything. Still, Swift watched them from the corner of his eye. Soon after he had passed them, he risked a peek back, just to be safe.

Another pony now stood beside them, clad in a brown cloak. His foreleg was pointed at Swift as he talked to the guards. They were all now starting to move towards him.

Swift turned back around. He sighed. Picking up his pace a little bit, he passed a group of ponies in front of him that was densely packed, conveniently so. He put himself in front of the group, blocking line of sight. Then, he hightailed it.

The guards’ reaction was only slightly delayed. Shortly after, they had taken up pursuit.

After changing his course again, Swift found himself running through yet another narrow street, but somehow his situation was worse than before. At this point, he would need some sort of miracle to get out of this.

He skidded around a sharp corner, and his heart fell in his chest. Just outside of the alleyway before him, ponies blocked the exit. They weren’t concerned with him though. In fact, their rumps were turned to him, leaving him outside of their field of view.

Swift took the opportunity. With a few quick steps, he was at the edge of what turned out to be a large crowd on a plaza. He blended in and made his way through it slowly but surely.

“Hey!”

“Watch out!”

“Get in line like all the others!”

Swift craned his neck to get a view of what had brought about the gathering. A unicorn stood on a box in the middle of the plaza and gave some sort of bundles to the ponies that stepped forwards. Several big carts, each one blanketed and filled to the brim, stood behind him. Guards were posted around them in a circle, keeping everyone at a distance.

Interesting. There’s potential for escalation here.

Swift stole a glance back the way he had come. Halberds, sticking out from the crowd, now advanced through the ponies in his direction. For a fraction of a second, there was also the shimmer of polished metal… then a pair of vigilant eyes, searching for a culprit.

Swift ducked. He had lingered long enough. Turning around, he pushed onwards, a vague idea forming in his head as he headed towards the carts. The guards were on his track if the grumbling from the crowd behind him was any indication.

“Hey! Stop the thief!”

It came to the side of Swift. He turned his head just in time. An earth pony came galloping in his direction, pushing ponies out of the way and to the ground. He carried a bundle on his back. Swift dodged to the side just before the pony rushed past him. A second one followed soon after.

This was not the distraction he had in mind to help him get away. Already, one of the guards behind him shouted.

“This way, quick!”

The guards...

Swift took a look at the carts, which were now close by. The unicorns in heavy armor around them still maintained their position. They were not, however, unfazed by what was happening. For the moment, some of them directed their attention at the commotion, leaving a narrow passage that their field of view did not cover, an opportunity that Swift would not waste.

A short dash, and Swift had reached one of the carts without being noticed. He ducked under it and crawled to the back. There was no guard in front of the hatch at the back of the cart, making it simple for Swift. He emerged and, one at a time, released the locking mechanisms to the left and the right.

With a clatter, the hatch was thrown open under the enormous weight of the load pushing against it. From under the tarpaulin, bread, fruit, and vegetables spilled onto the wet cobblestone in a wide arc like a torrent.

Pandemonium resulted. Instantly, everyone was all over it, and there was no stopping them. The guards were no obstacle for Swift anymore. Instead, he had to fight the crowd, being the only one trying to get away from the pile of food. After much bumping into ponies, he had made it through the most dense portion of the crowd and allowed himself a look back. No guards or mercenaries were to be seen. It was too early to feel safe though. He kept going and, once he reached the edge of the plaza, started galloping again.

He didn’t stop until he had at least turned a few corners. The streets became more empty as the plaza fell more and more behind. Before long, Swift was almost alone. Exhausted, he sat down halfway down some narrow stairs between two tall buildings that cast dark shadows. Minutes went by, during which his heavy breathing was the only sound beside the faint noise of a loud crowd far away.

A weight around his neck made itself felt. Swift reached for it and opened the pouch. Oddly enough, he was relieved to find the orb inside. Its haze swirled around lazily, forming intricate images of beauty behind a pristine glass body. Swift just sat there and watched for a while.

The sound of quick hooves on cobblestone nearby startled him, and he looked up, blinking. At the top of the stairs, two figures stood against the light of the sky behind them. The contrast made it impossible to identify them, but one of them had a bigger physique than the other. They didn’t seem intent on coming closer.

Wide Fare’s voice echoed through the narrow passage without a trace of anger. “It’s no use, Swift. Please give us the orb back.”

Swift just kept watching them, didn’t react. When he finally averted his gaze, he gave of a quiet, humorless chuckle that filled the space between them. Wide Fare had illustrated his magical prowess enough times for Swift to know that he was cornered. There was no point in resisting.

He looked at the orb one more time. Then, he closed the pouch.

A leap up and a few steps, and a yellow light had already appeared. It flooded the alleyway around him more and more as he moved. The air behind him sizzled.

He didn’t even sense the fall anymore.

Author's Note

Please read: http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/713804/long-time-no-see