His body ached, mouth tasted of copper. He brooded on escape, of the many impossible scenarios that would have to occur in order to fulfil his plans, and each left him feeling melancholic at the realisation of their unlikelihood. The cell was submerged in dark, appearing almost a void, and he huddled into a dank corner whilst he pondered escape, worrying about the fate of his colt. He lay battered and bruised, and every other breath made him cringe in pain. In the dark, he heard noises. Subtle ones, like whispers on the air. He had no way of knowing if he shared the dungeon with others; he couldn’t even be certain if he was alone in the cell as well. He believed it to be a trick on his eyes and ears caused by in such impenetrable darkness, but he thought he could hear breathing beside him.

He didn’t know how much time passed, he couldn't know. Sleep avoided him too, his mind wouldn’t allow him the respite, not whilst Steorra was threatened. If they dared harm his son, he would turn the Queen and her guard to ash… and scatter them to the wind. This he promised to himself.

“You’re new,” he heard a stallion's voice close to him. It was hoarse, old, and in pained. He thought it a hallucination at first, that his sanity had already been depleted. “Why are you here?”

“They took my son,” he replied with a limp tone, resting his head against the cold stone wall.

Silence reigned, and Sunder quickly believed that nopony had in fact spoken to him. “D’you know who I am?”

“A trick of my mind,” Sunder replied.

“I wish that was true…” the voice paused, and Sunder heard a ragged breath. “My name was forgotten by everypony, ‘cept I, but even I don’t want to wear it any longer, not after so long rotting here.”

“And why are you here?” his curiosity at most was meagre, but he found himself desiring to hear another’s voice rather was the empty silence.

The other was silent as if to consider his answer. “Because I’m a monster,” he said, “an abomination they say. They all say.”

“You a murderer, a rapist… both?”

“No…,” he said, and Sunder heard pained breaths. “I’m something much worse.”

Sunder waited for him to elaborate, but no more words came forth. “How long have you been down in this dungeon?”

“A dungeon? There are more skeletons down here than a graveyard. This is a tomb, and we’ve been prematurely buried, barely kept alive, scarcely remembered ‘cept by those who hate us enough to want us to continue this half-life,” he spoke, a sick humour in his voice. “No one can answer that question. Down here, time seems to stand still. You can’t count the seconds as they pass, and if you do, you’ll soon lose count. This is purgatory.”

“I need to get out. I need to save my son. I don’t care how many guard stand between us,” Sunder replied, valiant.

“You’re brave, aren’t you?” Sunder couldn’t tell if his tone was mocking, if it was, he didn’t care.

Sunder exhaled through his nose. “I’m not brave, none of us is. Brave is just the word used to describe ponies best at hiding their fear. Everypony is scared, always. I’m terrified. Terrified of losing, Steor, of dying here in the dark and never laying my eyes upon the sky again. But if I stay here, cowering in this corner, then I am lost.”

“Then I have been lost for a very long time…” the stallion responded. “Are you a good stallion?”

Sunder was silent, pondering. “That doesn’t matter. It never did. But Steorra is. He’s the last good thing I’ve given the world. As long as he never becomes me, and never went through what I went through, he’ll always be good.”

“I see,” he replied, “I thought I was good once. I never had the chance to be anything else before I was thrown into here. Years upon years, I heard the screams of the innocent and good as they starved in these cells, begging to be let out. They begged to unlistening ears. Some tried for longer than others, breaking the silence for days on end until finally, they went quiet. That is the death of will. I remained here so long, so quiet, that I was like a drawing on the wall… if I was good, I would have broken from here and turned Her to dust…” the stallion grumbled, before exhaling a deeply held breath. “I can get us out…”

“How?” Sunder asked, sceptical, although hope did rekindle in his chest.

Suddenly, catching him off guard, there was an explosion like spark of blue light; causing him to flinch at the sudden exposure, but through squinted eyes, he was drawn to one thing only, like a moth to candlelight. It burned like purple embers, the cracked keratin spire glowed with magic. Unicorn. Sunder looked to its owner, a vile mixture of disgust and abject horror sprouted in his gut. He could only see the left side of his face. Warped, monstrous, a vile product; his jaw jutted out from his face. Light shimmered over the rest of him. His coat a so faded white as to appear grey, mane blonde and dirty, eyes like faded blue gemstones; his whole body appeared stunted and wrong, an amalgamation of bones that didn’t fit into their sockets.

The unicorn stallion rose to his hooves with what appeared tremendous difficulty, his whole form shaking as he stepped forward, jaw clenched and eyes locked onto the cell door. “It’s time,” he said, the blue aura around his horn intensifying.

Sunder climbed onto his hooves, and watched as a blue light engulfed the door, a creaking metal groan sounding in the dungeon. He lost his words, seeing a sight many would regard as a treasure. He covered his eyes as the cell door fired from its hinges, a cloud of dust and stone filling the small space. He followed the unicorn as he limped out, looking down the hallway with a cautious expression. He wondered why he stopped. He glanced to his left and saw that he was looking deeper into the dungeon, the myriad of shut doors the obvious focus of his attention. Sunder remained still as he saw the hall became lit up in a blue light, each door wrapped in a tight blue aura. Each of the cell doors exploded from their frames like a thunderous symphony, the doors colliding with each other in the air like hammers upon stone.

One by one stallion and mares peeked their heads from their cells with disbelief and wariness, their eyes parting wide upon looking at their saviour. Sunder heard hoof steps behind him, and the clanking of armour. He turned to face the approaching guard, about a dozen of them charged down the narrow corridor. He was brushed aside by the unicorn, who looked at them with fire in his eyes. They came to a halt, some brandishing swords. Sunder watched them all recoil in fear as the one leading them released a strangled cry, blue magic tightening like a vice around his throat. Sunder shared their horror, as noises sounded out. First, the sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh, following immediately by metal thuds on the floor; then the pitter patter of blood droplets landing on stone… before he dropped the head. They all began to back up as their fear manifest began to walk down the hall toward them. Sunder followed, as did the rest of the prisoners, the revenge and fury could practically be felt in the air. As they were backed up into the stairwell, each of the guard wearing their terror on their face, the unicorn spoke out.

“I am the last success of the Bluebloods, the Prince of Vanhoover, and I am reclaiming my kingdom!”

Author's Note

I'm so sorry this is short, and that the actual 'escape' was very fast. I have only five days to meet the deadline.