The Healer, The Thief, and the Painter. Act 1 The Healer

167 steps. That was how many steps it took me to reach the top of the tower let me just tell you, that is a hell of a lot of steps to climb with a recently repaired leg. At around halfway, I heard the guard patrol yell at the civilians to stay outside until everything was sorted out and then give pursuit. It was also good for them that I was injured; they had more man er… I mean horsepower, than I did, and I was weaponless. Yet, the stunning spell on my arm had worn off at about the 153 step mark so at least I had control of both arms.

Their hoof beats advanced on me as I wrestled with the door that I had just found moments earlier with my face. I rubbed my sore nose with one hand and twisting and pulled at the doorknobs with the other. “Why won’t this door freaking open?!” I cried frustrated. “Well maybe if you…” Allumere started to speak, but I was distracted by a pony coming up after me on the stairs. “Hold that thought.” I said plainly as a yellow pegasus guard flew up the stairs at me, sword in hoof.

As he flew close enough, he swung his sword out at me. Three feet of singing steel flew towards my abdomen. Until at the last second I flattened myself against the wall, and the sword embedded itself a good inch into the hard wood. As the pegasus tried to retrieve his stuck weapon, I struck out with my hand pointed sideways. It struck exactly where I wanted it to, exactly where the patella was connected to the two leg bones. The tendons were stretched to their limits with a distinct crackling noise as the poor pegasus’ leg indented down towards the earth, exactly where it was not supposed to go. He cried out with pain and terror as he watched the lower part of his leg go limp. I wrapped my arms around his barrel, pinning his wings, and threw the disabled creature down the large flight of stairs. He cursed as he went.

“What were you saying?” I asked Allumere with a slight hint of pride in my voice. “

If you are done with your display of fighting and knowledge of equine anatomy,” he stated nearly bored, “maybe you would notice that this door is push and not pull.”

“No way.” I said, as I turned the handles and pushed in. The doors swung open gracefully with not even a whisper of protest. The inside of the room was dark and the air that flowed out against me was surprisingly dry. But with it the wind carried an evil scent, the sickly sweet shadow of decomposition and death. Yet something compelled me to walk into the darkness. As I stepped forward, I tried to retrieve the guard’s sword, but it was deeper in the wood than I thought. I closed the doors silently behind me, and the darkness fully consumed me in its silent grip.