Winds of color, book 1: Digging up the past

“The securest place is a prison cell, but there is no liberty”

-Benjamin Franklin

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The Diamond Dogs had dragged her through a series of tunnels and passages that would of made even those who didnt like rocks "Ooo" and "ahh" for their view alone, and be completely lost if they didnt already know the trail back to the town in which they inhabitated. Not that the unconciouspony hog tied in the back of their cart would of minded; she was still out cold, her thoughts rearranging themselves and piecing a memory back togther for her to remember. The Dogs excitement grew at the prospect of being paid for capturing a unicorn as they rounded the bend to their stone made town made underground with a simple sign hanging at the entrance stating it was Boneclaw village. Various broken down ponies in manacles were walking along side their Diamond dog masters, their will long since broken by their cruel masters or by that of another dog, the same one Rover was planning on taking her to.  The head slaver of ponies in the village, One eyed Pete.

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In Irids head she became witness to a scene that held her in enraptured.  instead of the black void her mind usually gave her she was surrounded in dark blue runes that she couldnt read but felt familar somehow, similar to that of a childhood friend, she realised. A window formed from these runes a portal opening and curiously she stepped through into a memory that was for a time long ago, the scenery was the same buildings she had saw from the windows but the buildings were shining and sparkling new and clean. Instead of a roof of stone and rock, there was a sky of the lightest blue with a bright glowing sphere that hurt to look at. then the thoughts started.

Irid realised she had been here too long when she glanced down at her hooves to find the tips turned blue. The cliff she was standing on at the edge of town fled off to the left and right of her. Everything else was just scenery. An acid blue sky was crocheted with vapor trails. There were half a dozen sky shakers up there right now, which were blue and black hawk like constructions that edged the troposphere, edging 600 mph while their inhabitants grazed on plastic trays of biotechnology grown and produced vegtables and overcooked pastries. The air shimmered with energy. Blue tremors made the surface road uncertain.

She then headed east. This section of road between the towns of Choatica and King's cross had always been busy, as long as he had lived here, as long as  he had been aware of the capital. The buildings that muscled against it were scorched with product; advertisements, tags, fliters, exhaust. Irid moved like something set free from a cage. Her lungs burned. what passed for fresh air uptop seemed much cleaner then anyting she had sampled below the stairs for the past five years, although she knew this was not the case. The pollution in the town below the cliffs called Goodhoove was oil based, natural; not this chemical cocktail that twinkled into the lungs for a lifetime.

The tiny screws on her sunglasses were weak; she had to keep pressing her hoof to the frame to ensure they did not fall off. Midwinter, the sun like a torch fueled by a overcharged battery was strong enough to cause whiteout and tears. She must see; she must not be caught napping. The city of King's cross had healed, much better than she ever imagined it might. Everything seemed sealed, glossy, like scar tissue. The rich had risen once again.  Stuctured gossamer, the new form of transport among those without horns or wings, was sailed between buildings hollowd at their summits to recieve it. Ground level was becoming ghettoized, a grid of poverty being redrawn in tar and carbon monoxide and soot.

Where is everypony? Irid thought. The hovering machines that others rode were grounded, and there wasnt a pony in sight besides the ones flying far overhead who were already distant dots on the horizon. As the city grew taller , the light went with it turning from a natural yellow to the artifical blues and the reflected greys of manufactured bulbs and flowing magic; the Depths were gloomy all the time now, lit up only by ochre stabs of headlights or some reflected glory beaming down from the heavens. Though she was tempted to stop and stare, Irid kept moving, remembering she had a pony to meet.

Despite her years away, and the changes that had occurred, she still loved her city. There was enough old face left behind to offer reassurane, comfort even. Occasionally she had happened upon ghosts and broken down golems. Bends in the road that she had swept down in her Earth rumbler shape with her comrade and brother, Data Jack. The long ground digging worm was a favorite of his. and lacking a horn himself from being a pegasus he had asked her frequently to turn him into one for short periods of time. This was the same pegasus she was supposed to meet in town.

Zones that pricked at her with meaning until she realised that she was standing where a park used to be, where she had read a holo-mag, or eaten a sandwich in the sunshine, or met somepony for a chat and ice-cream. The idea of food found a mate in her gut; she was suddenly ravenous. She hurried along a street wishing for some old vegtable kebab shops to still be around, but there was nothing butglass and resin and high grade steel. There were no doors. No neon. No pony Buzz. There was no way in.

Her mind Wandered on through the labrinth of steel while her captors brought her body inside of a Stone gate to its owner within.

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The Alpha Groomer, One Eye Pete, sniffed again. Once more pitched to fresh irritation. To watch the diamond dog in front of him twitch his mussed vest to rights and shamble his way down towards the exit, who would know him as a master handler of ponies, and perhaps best in this realm? As appearances went, Bloodclaw cared for nothing else beyond equine bloodlines and foaling. Bloodclaw's creased face and placid, brown eyes held no spark of intellect, no curiosity, as he stepped from the stone gate to pass the trio of dogs and their wagon as the later went in. Pete crossed his wide tunneler's arms and held his stance  with nothing of tension as he sized up the dogs he was being approached by.

Pete's red eye however held a look of cunning and intellect. Something that could not be taught, and was considered valuable. As such he had been taught and educated by the previous Alpha Groomer, though ponies would call him a Slaver, he didnt care. His vest was lined with Diamonds with a color that had a single Onyx heart ruby that showed he had a mate. His finely groomed fur and overwhealming personaility in his tone of voice had led many a dog to stutters and submissiveness such was the case with Rover and his group he noted as the small groups spokesdog began, "Master Pete, we have brought you a Unicorn to sell should you be interested."

He simply stared at them, to their discomfort Rover began to ramble on, "we found her deep down in the old pony ruins while we were searching for artifacts, we thought you could use another lifter or magic user to work at your mines."

He grunted and waved them closer; the larger blue dog, Fido he recalled, Took the black coated purple maned with yellow highlighted unicorn that was unconcious out of the back of the cart and gracelessly dropped her on the ground in front of him. The impact made him internaly wince for the unicorn. It could not feel good to be dropped a few feet onto ones face onto a stone floor. Yet slept on the unicorn did. he reached down and lifted the ponies face to his own, going down on one knee to get a better look he noted the lack of spiral stripe on the unicorns horn, something he hadnt seen before. Hmm this is one who hasnt evolved into having the spiral for better control of refined magic. Never thought to see this subspecies. , he looked up to the hopefull looks of the three dogs before him.

He stood up and counted out a bag of eighteen rubies, his standard payment for a unicorn, and dropped them into Rovers waiting paw, "good mare.  Enjoy your payment, make sure to come again with any more ponies you capture."

Rover and his gang bowed to the groom with a chorus of thanks which he dismissed with a claw. "Now get going, the markets dont sell themselves you know," he gave Rover and Fido a good push and used his foot to push spot on. To which the trio of dogs left taking their cart with them.

Pete picked up the unicorn and brought her into his "workshop" as he liked to call it. Inside were tools of different sorts used to make restraints and shackles for unicorns, pegasi, and earth pony alike. He put down the unicorn and untied her, her hooves falling to her sides a red mark on the side of her legs where the rope had rubbed and burned slightly from hours of rough carrying no doubt. Pete slipped on his goggles, an device that was also implimented with several differnt settings of magnification that he used to examine Irids horn, taking notes with one claw on the table next to her gouging out the stone with a sharpened claw writing down notes while he spoke aloud, "Horn is 8 inches and 3 milimeters long, staight, not curved. No sign of grooves or spiral pattern on horn, while similar to a changeling, changeling horns are curved or disfigured messes." He ficked the horn causing a light tap sound before continuing on, "Horn is not hollow, attached firmly to skull. Not fake. From the build this horn is probably from the same generation of ponies three thousand to four thousand years ago where Unicorns had larger scale less refined versions of magic, as well as when pegasi had larger wings meant for Endurance over speed... Mathmatics involved into teaching this unicorn new spells would be more time consuming then worth..." He stopped speaking and taking notes long enough to turn Irid onto her side rather then her back and look over the horn from another angle adjusting the zoom settings on his goggles as he looked closer."also no cutiemark, Blank flank."

"Pony would need a three quarters inch brace at a seven point five four degree slant at halfway mark to negate modern unicorn day magic taught today preventing the horn aura from completeing and also preventing loss of energy on attempts," Pete moved onto the legs of the pony noting its muscle build, "Pony shows signs of recent strain but build is that of a warrior or explorer rather then that of a house mare," he noted the state of her chest giving it a prod with a claw feeling the muscle between the skin and the bone.

"Signs of malnourishment and starvation that was refcently alievated by very low in mineral food and water...  Muscle build of body reaffirms prior assessment, Its a mare all right." He chuckled moving away from the desk long enough to pick out a white painted metal brace that looked similarly to a ring mixed with a clamp. He inserted it over the horn of the unconcious unicorn and slid it with practiced ease to the halfway mark before tightening it a few good turns making the ring squeeze the horn moderatly tightly to lock it in place and then take the key out to prevent anyone from releasing it, "magic halter applied,  next off four size eight point seven shackles for the legs." He doubled checked his measurements before taking a set of shackles from his wall and putting them on the pony, once again locking them with their keys onto the unconcious pony and putting the keys on his keychain.

The last thing he did before taking her out was put a sign with a serial number on her neck with the lettering: U-119. and take her out of his workshop to a cage that was shared by an diamond dog in a straight jacket and an terrified looking earth pony filly and throw her in, locking the cage behind her.