In a cellar, amidst the thin slivers of light that push through the planks above, a pony listens to his own breathing. Every now and then, a creak of a chair or some quiet line of speech descents into his solitary gloom, but their echoes are more of a reminder of his current state than a real crack in it. The state in question is not called loneliness, not quite, for that would mean there is nowhere to reach to. But Reg Syllable has plenty of directions to extend his hoof – a whole cellar, in fact. He is not alone.

What am I, then? he thinks to himself. A dry, soulless chuckle escapes him. A cliche, that’s what I am. In more ways than one. And it’s such a cliche to know that. His horn lights up faintly, and a plump, orange carrot floats in front of him from the tray that was pushed to him some hours ago, perhaps. He munches it lazily, eyes wondering at the particles of dust that dance in the sparse light.

Axiom, the old bugger, was right after all. I am a failure… He eats the rest of the carrot, and reaches for another one. The taste of dust is almost unnoticeable. I failed at the moment when I kissed her in the Castle’s couch. I should’ve known better; I should've and I did. But still I’m stuck in this cellar, waiting scolding from a bunch of self-righteous hickeys. And the worst part is that I’m no better than them.

He throws the stump away and slumps some more against the earth wall, practically slipping on his back to the floor. Maybe they’ll settle for seeing me shake hooves with that pegasus and grin on top. They probably will. He waits for a moment, feeling how the thought fits. It doesn’t. But why did they then lock me up for the whole night? Wouldn’t make much sense if the point was just to talk the thing away. Buck… He glances at the tray next to him. There is still plenty of food left, but the concept of eating has lost its taste for him. Maybe they make me do community service or something…

But that means he should be punished too, right? To be exact, he dealt the first blow. But did they stuff him in some hole for the whole night? He snorts. Not likely. The last time I saw him, he had two gorgeous mares tending for his poor, little, hurt wings. For a moment, his jaw clenches. It relaxed again when he sighs heavily. Maybe it’s the wings that draw mares… although Fall never had any problems regardless. Fall… There’s a friend if anypony ever needed one. A really amiable stallion. Makes you feel like a little brother. He spits on the floor.

Will she be there, in the trial? No… She’ll be waiting for him to come back. To tell all about it. And I’ll be in a train, Fall promising to set up a date with one of Lake’s friends from the theatre. “Make it a double-date, just like last time, har har”. A joke to wash it down. The scene is vivid enough to make him think it has happened already. A reasonable ending for an unreasonable story. A lesson learned, a chapter closed. Something to teach to my son-to-come, an exemplary episode of youth’s follies. Real enough to go for reality.

From above, a sound of door opening carries. Somepony trots in, talks with the guards. Reg gets the impression that something is agreed upon. The hatch opens, and the slivers of light melt into one large one. A mare’s head, blue as the sky and blessed with a rainbow mane, peeks from the opening. She is not smiling.

“Time’s up. Dart and Archy here say that you’ve been acting decent enough. Whaddaya say we keep the score clean all the way to the town hall?”

Reg eyes her like she was some modern piece of artwork, the message of which he could not quite figure out. He stands up and climbs up the stairs. In the room above, the guards watch him carefully along with the rainbow mare. As if I was some great criminal to them. Haven’t these ponies ever seen a brawl before?

“You sure you don’t want to put me in chains, just to be sure?” he asks from the room in general.

“If you’d fancy that,” says the mare. She narrows her eyes. “But really we should do something to your horn. Seems like you didn’t read the manual that came with it.”

This gives Reg a pause, but soon he grins and says: “Could be that I skimmed through the small print.”

The air itself seems to grow still as the three other ponies tense in the small room.

Jeez, don’t they teach irony in countryside schools? “A joke. Can we just go now?”

The mare eyes him for a moment longer. “I’d keep that humour in check, were I you.” She glances at the two guards standing behind Reg. “You guys mind coming along? Just for company?”

“Sure, Rainbow,” says the other pegasus, the one Reg vaguely thinks is called Dart. He looks meaningfully at his friend.

“Of course,” says Archie. “I think we should go.”

Rainbow nods to him and looks again at Reg. He half expects her to say something about the chains, but she only shakes her head and rises to her wings. “It’s a walk of twenty. Let’s keep it that way.” She flies outside.

Guess that’s the only way out, thinks Reg as he sees the two stallions looking expectantly at him. He sighs and walks into the sunshine, squinting. It looks to be a beautiful afternoon. Just like from a book. It all practically begs me to see the light and get on with my life. He looks up the sun, shading his vision with a hoof. Maybe Celestia herself will come to guide me. Her sister did, after all. He follows the pegasus as she flies low towards the town. Perhaps it’s a time for the night to end. Perhaps.

Sitting in the lobby of the town hall, Fall stares at the clock on the opposite wall ticking away as if there was some great mystery hidden among the numbers and pointers. Every now and then he notices Tin Key glancing at him beyond his desk and papers, and the look the young clerk gives him resembles very much the one Fall views the clock with. The observation makes him grimace mentally. For the love of Celestia… I’m way deeper in this mess than I even know. I should be writing my thesis now, or practicing for the School’s Winter Cup… or kissing Honey’s neck while she tells me how she rocked the auditions. He notices how Tin Key glimpses at him again. This time, Fall looks back at him and smiles. The clerk couldn’t cover his face in papers any faster.

And who’s to blame him? They’re all acting friendly enough, but that Dart fellow was only saying what they’re all thinking. Reg is a troublemaker, and I’m his pal. Surely there must be something wrong with me, too? Fall leans against the wall behind him, forgetting to stare at the clock for a moment. Instead, he looks at the door that supposedly leads upstairs, to the Mayor’s office. She went there already an hour ago. Shouldn’t something be happening already? A nasty thought crosses his mind. Did Reg leg it? Oh buck, he did, didn’t he? And right now he’s banging Chillburn’s door, and her coltfriend is about to arrive, and–

The main door opens. First to fly in is the most feminine stallion Fall has ever seen, although it doesn’t take him long to realize that actually, the exact reverse is true. Next, Reg trots in, accompanied by Dart and Archie. Fall and Reg make a brief eye contact, but it breaks as they both hurriedly look away.

The tomboy mare gives a short look at Fall while flying straight for the counter. “Hi, Tin. Is everything set?”

Tin Key nods courtly at her. A bit too courtly, if Fall is any judge. “Y-yes, Rainbow. Well, Thunderlane hasn’t come yet, but–”

“What?” blurts Rainbow, landing on all fours. “You sure?”

The clerk nods. Fall could swear he saw a hint of a blush creeping from under his collar. “Ah, well, he did drop by for a moment about half an hour ago. Said that he’d arrive a bit late.”

Fall can’t see the mare’s face, but he wages that it would be worth a glimpse. At least Tin Key’s expression is.

“‘A bit late?’” repeats the mare with her peculiarly hoarse voice. “What, he thinks everypony has all day waiting for him? He should be the first one here, for sky’s sake!” She shakes her head, sighing. “Did he say where he’d be?”

“N-no… I’m sorry, Rainbow.”

It certainly looks like you are, thinks Fall as he follows the small scene. And you sure fancy repeating her name. Suddenly, Fall realizes that Rainbow is now looking at him with the brightest red eyes Fall has ever seen. A bit like Chillburn’s… but with more life.

“And you are?” she asks.

Fall stands up from the bench and moves a bit closer to her in the large room. It’s not courteous, shouting to a pony from the other side of a room. “Willow Fall’s the name,” he says, smiling in a friendly way. “And I’m here for the same general reason we all are.” He pays careful attention not to look at Reg.

Rainbow, whose gaze turned a tad more suspicious as he walked closer to her, scowls. “And the reason would be what, exactly?”

Fall nods at Reg’s general direction with his neck, firmly keeping his eyes on her’s. “I have the dubious pleasure to be his friend.”

Rainbow’s gaze travels from Fall to Reg, sharp as the wind. “Is that so?” Reg glances quickly at Fall’s back and then shrugs in a quasi-affirmative way. Rainbow’s doubts only dig deeper into her eyes. “And you came here to do what?” she says, looking at Fall again.

The question makes him arch an eyebrow. “Well… To be a friend.”

The answer seems to take the mare aback. At least it makes her pause for a moment. “Oh… I guess that’s… fine?” she says. For a moment, the atmosphere in the room is dangerously close to getting awkward. But then the door upstairs opens.

The mayor comes in, dressed in her ornate white collar, with her grey-white mane practically flowing around her head. She gives the room at large a quick glance over her crescent glasses. “Is everypony concerned with the case present now? I hope this is everypony, for my office space is a limited resource.”

Tin Key shakes the fine traits of blush off his face and says: “Dart and Archie are not really involved. However, we are expecting Thunderlane to arrive.”

“Should we be expecting for long?” asks the mayor. “I swear, I just survived the roughest week of my term. The concept of ‘efficiency’ simply escapes the good government of Haytown…”
“I’m afraid he wasn’t very specific,” says Tin Key.

“You can trust that I will be, whenever he gets back,” says Rainbow to the mayor.

The older mare gives her a kind smile. “I’m certain he had his reasons. In the meanwhile, perhaps we can go ahead and begin by hearing one of the parties involved…” The navy-blue eyes wander to Reg. “That would be you, wouldn’t it?”

Reg nods faintly.

The mayor smiles some more. “Good. Now, would you and Rainbow come to my office?” She steps aside, showing way with a hoof.

Fall is about so say something, but Rainbow gets her mouth open first. “Should Archie come along, too?”

The mayor looks first at Rainbow, then at Reg, and finally at the unicorn Archie. “Do the two of you think that will be necessary?” she asks from Reg and Archie.

“No,” says Reg.

Archie hesitates for a moment. Fall notices how he tries to get some hints from Dart and Rainbow, but both of them are looking elsewhere. “Well… My wife is probably expecting me home by now,” he says slowly.

“I’m sure she does,” says the mayor.

“Could I attend, too?” blurts Fall. He blinks as all the eyes in the room turn to him. “I’m… My name’s Willow Fall,” he explains, mostly to the mayor. “I’m Reg’s friend.”

The mayor studies him for a moment, her crescent glasses gleaming faintly in the soft light of the room. “Of course, Willow Fall.” She looks at Tin Key. “Would you be a dear and put the kettle on? I trust some refreshment could do wonders for us. It would for me, at least.” She shows the way into the second floor again.

Rainbow flies in first, disappearing quickly up the stairs. Reg, without looking at anypony, follows suite, with Fall right behind him. He tries getting a read on his face, but whatever Reg is thinking at the moment hides beneath the healing bruises and a solemn face. You better play this by the book, or I swear I'll leave with the first train. Behind him, he hears the door close. The mayor seems reasonable enough… but the sparky one might mean trouble. What does she got to do with this, anyway?

They enter into the mayor’s office, which lacks a door. A large, green carpet covers the round room that to Fall’s eyes appears more like somepony’s home than an office. Beside the compulsory large desk, there are some casually arrayed sofas, a low table with fruits and magazines, and some flowers. The sweet fragrance of them lingers heavily all over the air. Curtains of all the large windows are half-drawn, so the room doesn’t quite flood in the afternoon light.

“Do sit wherever you like,” says the mayor while trotting to her desk, by which she sits.

Fall follows Reg’s example and sits on a nearby couch that stands on the side of the desk. Rainbow keeps on floating in the air, her hooves crossed over her chest.

“I’m fine up here,” she says, eyeing Reg and Fall.

This doesn’t bode well, thinks Fall. Nonetheless, he tries to relax against the soft fabric. Whatever you do, don’t look guilty. I’m not the one being judged here. He gives a sideway glance at Reg. His face is blank as fresh snow.

The mayor breathes in, then out. “Okay. Since the day is almost out, along with myself, I suggest we go straight to the heart of the matter.” The blue eyes move to Reg. “Would you mind to begin by recounting your version of the event?”

Fall resist the urge to close his eyes. Don’t screw this up, don't screw this up, don't’ screw this up…

Reg clears his throat. “How far should I start?”

“As far as you need to,” says the mayor.

Reg gives that a thought. “In that case, I might as well start from the first time I kissed a mare. But I won’t. Instead, I’ll tell you what happened yesterday, and why it happened. Beyond that, even I have doubts.” He sighs and begins his tale.

At first, Fall guards against every word he hears, but gradually his shields come down as he realizes that Reg’s laconic tone carries not the slightest slight, offense, or irony. This is the Reg that Fall first met in a boxing ring years and years back, whom he later came to call a friend. A shy, slightly awkward, and definitely somepony you would call “dry” after a ten minute talk with him about his favourite subject, language and history. He tells the room everything from yesterday, from the way he met with Chillburn to the exact taunts he used to draw Thunderlane into a brawl. Without having seen none of it, Fall believes the story to the word.

“The cool cellar was actually just what I needed,” says Reg at the end of his uninterrupted speech. “In a way, I’m glad that was where I ended up.” For the first time since entering the room, he looks Rainbow in the eyes. “Thank you.”

Fall looks at her, too. He gets the impression that the magenta is smoldering in her eyes. Something’s wrong. Why is she still like that? Doesn’t she believe that he truly repents?

“Thank you, Reg,” says the mayor, who had not once taken her eyes off Reg during his account. Next, the same disturbingly calm gaze travels over to Rainbow. “Since Thunderlane hasn’t arrived yet, I trust that you can continue by telling an outsider viewer’s version of what happened?”

Rainbow, without taking her eyes off Reg, opens her mouth.

At the same time, steps echo from the stairs. Soon Tin Key emerges, carrying a trayful of steaming cups.

“Ah, a splendid timing,” says the mayor. The cups get distributed among participants, Tin Key himself excluded. “Do carry on, Rainbow,” says the mayor over her cup.

Rainbow, who put her own drink at the nearby table, says: “I know nada about your little love adventures, and really I like it that way. You had no business going after Thunderlane like that.”

Reg, his cup floating by his head, blinks. “I know. I crossed the line, and I regret it deeply.”

“He is telling the truth,” says Fall suddenly, putting down his own drink. “I know my word may not mean much to you… but I’d wager my horn for his word.”

The mayor raises an eyebrow. “Even though you weren’t present? Or were you?”

“I wasn’t,” confesses Fall. “But I know Reg.” he looks at his friend, who hasn’t touched his drink. “Last night I saw him, he was the most miserable I’ve ever seen him be. He does repent.”

“But for what?” says Rainbow sharply. “That he didn’t get to finish the job?”

Fall looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Rainbow’s eyes spark. “As far as I can tell, he summed up the fight correctly… with one little detail missing.” She pauses for a moment, her gaze travelling to Reg in unbroken silence. “When Thunderlane was down, and you were on your feet… I saw your horn lit up.”

Fall’s eyes widen. Reg’s whole body grows stiff. The mayor doesn’t move a muscle.

“He was going to use magic against another pony,” says Rainbow, her voice frost with an edge. “And if I hadn’t stopped it, he would have done just that.”

Fall looks at Reg. His face is paling quickly. Oh buck… Reg, what the hay did you do?

The mayor’s eyes turn once again to Reg. “Is this true?” she asks quietly.

Reg’s mouth cracks open, and his eyes blink, seemingly unable to focus on the mayor. “I… It…”

“She asked you a question!” snaps Rainbow. The mayor waves a hoof at her direction.

“It was…” begins Reg, the color almost gone from his face. “I wasn’t going to do anything!” he manages.

You’re lying, thinks Fall. Oh dear Celestia, you’re lying.

“But you did have some spell in your mind at the moment?” says the mayor, the deep blue unyielding behind the glasses.

“Uhh… Maybe, I can’t remember… Maybe I did…” Almost immediately, his pupils shrink in fear. “But nothing too extreme!”

“Too extreme…?” repeats the mayor, her voice no more than a whisper.

Reg swallows. “You must understand, I was… out of my mind! Literally, he had just knocked my forehead in! But never in my life would I–”

“Scum,” says Rainbow, the word barely able to squeeze through his clenched jaw. “Nothing but scum.”

Fall hears her alright, though. “Hey, would you mind taking it easier?” he says.

Rainbow’s head snaps at him. “Or what? You’ll poke me?”

“Quiet down, both of you,” says the mayor, her gentle tone swept away. She eyes carefully first Rainbow, then Fall, and finally Reg, who is staring at the carpet like it was staring back at him. She sighs heavily. “Okay… I’m glad that you at least recognize the gravity of the accusation laid on your door. However, I’m afraid a simple apology and a show of goodwill will not suffice here.”

Reg’s front hooves dig into the couch.

“I will have to inform the Ministry of Magic about this,” she says after a moment, her voice having regained some of it’s softness. “They will most likely wish to have a complete hearing about this case.”

Fall, sitting by Reg, chokes the urge to blurt “Is that really necessary?”. That line is past, way behind us. Ministry of Magic? A complete hearing? Dear Tartarus… He looks at Reg, who is visibly shaking by now. In the worst case, they will drain his horn. As if from beyond the curtain of reality, he hears a humph.

“That’s it?” says Rainbow. “The unicorns always get it easy…”

Fall’s head turns slowly to her. He stands up.

One of the windows crashes in. The thing that flies in manages to wrap itself into a curtain and tear it off, right before it slams to the carpet in the middle of the ponies. Two dark-grey wings protrude from the mess of wildly flailing colored fabric, and after a brief but violent struggle, a stallion’s head appears. Bleeding scratches litter his face, though his front hooves seemed to get the worst of it.

“Chillburn’s been taken!” exclaims Thunderlane. Panting, he fights himself completely free and practically rams himself against the mayor’s desk. Tiny drops of blood spill everywhere as his hooves hit the wood. “He took her away!” He collapses on the table. “Help…”

A second goes by, trying to disguise as a minute. The trick seems to work, for everypony in the room has frozen in time, staring at the battered pegasus. It’s only then that Fall gets a better look of his left wing. It shouldn’t be… bent like that?

“Thunderlane!” cries Rainbow, surging for him. She notices his wing too, and gasps in horror and disgust. She touches his neck with the side of his hoof, all the while scanning his cuts. “Help me get him on the couch!” she barks finally, pulling his front leg over her shoulder.

Fall and Reg stare at them like they were watching a terrifying movie, the events of which they could in no way touch or affect.

“Now!” screams Rainbow at them.

They both hurry to her aid, lifting the now limp Thunderlane off the desk. Shards of glass cover the carpet, so it takes them a moment to move him onto the couch. “Watch the wing, watch the wing,” repeats Rainbow, her voice balancing itself on an edge of a knife. In a rare moment of clarity, Fall flings the random pillows and cushions out of the way, creating more room on the sofa. Finally, they manage to set the pegasus to his side, minding his damaged wing as best as they can. After that, the time seems to freeze again.

“He needs a doctor,” says Rainbow, her voice trembling. Fall glances at her, noticing how she can’t tear her eyes off the mangled wing. “I’ll go get one.” She is about to fly to the staircase, but then shakes her head, looks at the broken window, and glides through it. She returns a few seconds later. “You take care of him!” she shouts abruptly, directing her words at nopony in particular, although she is mostly eyeing Fall and Reg. “You just… take care of him?”

It takes Fall a moment to catch onto his cue. “Of course! Just go already!”

That seems to pull a lever in her mind. She zaps into the sky, disappearing immediately.

Yet again, a sort of a suspension descents into the room. Fall looks at Thunderlane, whose chest heaves gently. His numerous cuts stain the couch in dark red spots, and the thought of binding them crosses Fall’s mind. But with that? And how? I don’t even know CPR properly. How the hay am I going to take care of him? Suddenly, he notices that Reg moved closer to the pegasus. Somehow, that gets the bells chiming in his mind.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Reg remains mute, bending over the unconscious pegasus. “Can you hear me?” he says to his ear. Thunderlane doesn’t respond. Reg gives him a light slap to the cheek.

“Reg!” cries Fall, stepping over his friend and pulling him back. “What the hay?!”

“Didn’t you hear what he said?” says Reg. “‘Chillburn’s been taken’. I need to know what he meant.”

He isn’t shaking anymore, realizes Fall as he looks in Reg’s eyes. “He is out cold, can’t you see?!”

“That’s why I need him to wake up,” explains Reg, his voice calmer than it should by all rights be, at least in Fall’s mind.

His answer makes Fall stumble in his thoughts and words for a moment. “Look, the guy is barely alive! You can’t just start questioning him in that state!”

“Fall,” says Reg. “Look at his wing.”

“I know!” cries Fall desperately. “That’s exactly what I’m ta–”

“No, look at it,” repeats Reg, pulling Fall closer to the couch.

Fall, his tongue already formulating another objection, glances at the maimed feathery appendage. At first, he only sees its destruction. But… there’s more… it’s…

“The fracture is too clean,” says Reg. He points at the broken bone that sticks from among the feathers. “It didn’t simply broke when he barged in. It was already broken.”

The implications of the notion make Fall cringe. “You’re saying he flew here with a broken wing?”

Reg nods slowly, his face grim. “I think that tells us something about what happened to Chillburn.” He glances at Thunderlane. “We need to go to her place. Now.”

“But can we leave him like this?” says Fall, nodding at Thunderlane.

Reg looks at the mayor behind them. She is blinking at them, mouth cracked slightly open. Reg walks quickly over to her, waving a hoof in front of her face. She blinks again, focusing dizzily on Reg, who notices the tiny splatters of blood on her face.

“What happened?” she asks.

Reg lowers his hoof. “We are going to Chillburn’s house: it’s the big one by the river after the dentist but before the bridge. In the meantime, take care of him. Did you get that?”

“Is that… Thunderlane?” she asks, eyes trailing to the sofa.

Reg snorts and turns around. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s send that clerk here to keep things alive.”

Fall looks at him, then at the mayor behind him, and finally at Thunderlane. A million thoughts clog up his mind, but the loudest ones are: He is breathing, and not bleeding too much. She is in shock, but otherwise fine. Chillburn may be alone with whoever broke this guy’s wing like it was a twig. The fourth one climbs up his throat before the rest of the voices can drag it back. “Okay.”

As they get downstairs, Tin Key, along with a couple of other ponies that had come from somewhere, snap their heads at them.

“What was that crash?” asks Tin Key worriedly.

“Thunderlane arrived,” says Reg without stopping. “The mayor asked you there immediately. And I’d advise taking some bandaid with you.”

The clerk looks confusedly at him, then at Fall.

“Do as he says,” he says before disappearing out of the front doors. Outside, he notices how a small crowd has gathered around the town hall. Some of them are wondering at the broken window while others turn their eyes suspiciously at him. I guess Thunderlane’s flight didn’t go unseen. Why the hay did he even fly here? With that wing… I can’t even imagine the pain. His eyes search for Reg, whom he finally sees galloping well ahead. Fall curses and runs after him. From the broken window, he can hear a scream carrying; a scream that recognisably belongs to Tin Key.

About half an hour earlier, near a large house by the river, after the dentist but before the bridge…

Am I doing this right? thinks Thunderlane while flying towards Chillburn’s house. By now it’s right under him, but still he lingers in the air, eyeing the gabled roof with unease. He beats the back of his neck a couple of times with a hoof. Stupid, stupid, stupid… I shouldn’t have said anything in the morning, not about the trial. I should’ve just went there, told the truth and be done with it. But now… the truth might not be enough… He gives himself one more beat, the hardest one so far. He flies closer, landing in front of the door. Maybe she has changed her mind, maybe. But I need to be sure. He raises his front leg, preparing to knock. This evening has to be just perfect. Plain perfect. He knocks on the door. It opens silently inwards.

That’s weird… Usually she keeps it locked all the time. After a brief consideration, Thunderlane steps in. As usual, the hall and the living room beyond are wrapped in gloom.

“Hello?” he says, trotting into the living room. “Chillburn?”

No response. It’s dead quiet. I guess she is away. Typical. He turns around, but then his ears prick up, catching a faint noise from upstairs. It’s as if something was moving by the floor. He looks up and sees as a lone beeswax candle rolls the stairs down. He follows it stop on the opposite wall.

“Chillburn?” he asks, louder this time. No response.

Another game? What, is she going to jump on me from a closet or something? The idea sends a pleasant vibration though his body. “I’m coming up,” he says, taking the first step. As he gets to the bedroom door, he finds it partly open. Inside, the heavy curtains block almost all light, but still he can glimpse a form moving on the large bed. It appears to be wriggling. Thunderlane walks carefully closer, drawn in by the leash of curiosity knotted with excitement. Standing next to the bed, he starts chuckling uncertainly.

“Uhh… Okay… Bondage isn’t really my thing, but it seems to be yours,” he says, his eyes drinking the sight before him. Blindfolded, gagged, and tied all over, Chillburn appears as if she had jumped from the September edition of the Playcolt magazine. Her head turns to him, and it seems as if she was trying very hard to say something. “How did you even manage that by yourself?” asks Thunderlane.

“I lent her a hoof. Or a horn, to be more precise,” says an unfamiliar male voice from behind Thunderlane. The pegasus spins around, startled beyond belief.

“What the–”

A sudden light blinds him, forcing him to shield his eyes with his hoof and wings. In the brilliant glow, he can barely make out a form of a unicorn stallion standing by the door. “Who the hay are you?!” cries Thunderlane. Behind him, he can sense Chillburn’s thrashing growing more fervent.

“I might ask the same question from you, seeing that you definitely are not Reg Syllable.” The stranger's voice is steady, and has this academic undertone to it that wouldn’t come of with a white hot iron. “I can only presume that you are one of her other customers.”

“Customers?” repeats Thunderlane automatically. “What? Who are you? And turn that bucking horn off, will you?”

The light remains bright for a moment longer, but then dies away as suddenly as it appeared. In the gloom that follows, Thunderlane is as blind as before, even if not more so. Beyond the sawtooth patterns, he tries to get a better idea of the stranger. With some disbelief, he realizes that he is wearing a suite.

“Are you a butler or something?” asks Thunderlane.

The unicorn is silent for a moment. “Yes. Yes I am. I’m here to assist miss Chillburn with her… audiences.”

Thunderlane can practically taste the innuendo in that last word. It doesn’t please him at all.

“It appears that you came at an inconvenient time,” continues the unicorn. “She is at the moment expecting a special guest, as you can surely see.”

Thunderlane blinks, but this time not from the excess light. “Hey, I’ve no idea what you think you're doing here, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong address. I suggest you move on before this gets any more awkward.” Although I don’t think that’s possible.

This seems to give a pause to the unicorn, whose face is still mostly hidden by shadows. “You… did not come here to rut her for payment?”

Thunderlane snorts angrily. “Okay, that’s it. Get lost. Now.”

The unicorn doesn’t budge. Instead, he starts muttering to himself. “Perhaps she was keeping low profile here… saving herself for the local elite…”

Thunderlane takes a step forward. “You deaf? I said: get the hay out of here.”

The muttering stranger looks abruptly at him. “Ah. Yes. I think you have a point there. Somepony else might wander here before Reg. Things might get unnecessarily messy then.”

This guy… Where did he drop from? The moon? “Excellent thinking, sir,” says the pegasus. “Now, the door’s there, so…”

The unicorn glances behind him, then at Thunderlane. “Indeed. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” His horn lights up.

At first, Thunderlane thinks he was going to illuminate the room again. His jaw drops when instead he sees the mindlessly struggling Chillburn floating by him, wrapped in a faint grey aura. He charges at the unicorn.

“Oh no you wo‒”

Beside him, Chillburn drops on the floor with a thud. Almost immediately, Thunderlane feels the control of his own muscles escaping beyond him. He freezes in mid motion, helpless as a newborn foal. Only his eyes can move, and they are nailed at the unicorn. In the sparse glow of his horn, he can finally get a look of his face. The sight makes him freeze internally, too.

“Oh, yes I will,” says the unicorn, fine sweat trickling on his brow. He ponders something for a moment. After an excruciating long wait, a resolution of sorts seems to occur behind those glazed, grey eyes.

“The pegasus anatomy is most interesting, especially what comes to the aerial appendages. I’ve studied the subject a bit. Well, written a very influential essay on it actually.”

Thunderlane’s gaze snaps to Chillburn on the floor. She is trembling all over.

“To be frank, I probably know more about your body than you do,” continues the unicorn with some manic amusement. “Did you for example know that by removing a few select feathers from a wing, a pegasus loses all ability to control the altitude of their flight? Or that they are at their most sensitive at the base? Well, of course you would know that…”

He is insane, thinks Thunderlane. And that’s a mild description. One by one, he tries every muscle in his body. They all are on a break.

The unicorn goes on as if he was holding a lecture on his favourite topic. “However, what has always struck to me as the most admirable aspect of them is their undeniable endurance, their ability to function even after what one might call massive damage. Supposing, of course, that the will behind the body has an unusually high tolerance for pain.” He tilts his head. “A simple example: the radius, while extremely important in what comes to controlling the direction of flight, is not that necessary when it comes to flying as such.” His horn begins to glow a more sinister shade of grey. “Also, fractures in it heal respectably well.”

Despite his inability to move, Thunderlane can still feel just fine. The bone that snaps in his left wing is a marvelous proof of that. He would scream until his lungs collapsed, but his tongue doesn’t belong to him.

The unicorn studies the broken wing with some interest. “A clean fracture, not lethal by any means. Grit your teeth and you will be able to fly reasonably well, although I’d advise not to climb very high.” He walks closer to Thunderlane, leaning over his ear. “Find Reg Syllable. If you don’t know him, find somepony who does. There is a message I would like to pass to him.”

The pain blooms rich all over the pegasus’s body, burning him like a hot iron. He registers the words, but not necessarily in the right order.

“I have reserved an appointment with him and Chillburn, with me as the chaperon. It is about time that some issues are laid bare between us. Oh, and tell him that if he does not come alone, she will die.”

At that point, the flaming pain inside Thunderlane loses to the inferno that surges from his heart, that makes his very soul boil. For a moment, his body twitches in the air. The unicorn flinches, taking a few hurried steps back, and tightens his hold of the pegasus.

“I knew you were a fighter!” says the unicorn, grinning madly. “Still, were I you, I’d save some of that glee for the trip ahead. You are going to need it.” The horn dims. Thunderlane falls on the floor. His cry of agony pierces the walls and the ponies inside, only to break before a desperate wail and the tears that swell in his eyes squeezed shut. Next to him, Chillburn’s blindfold becomes wet at the edge.

The unicorn, with no haste at all, picks her up like an old rug. “I will of course withhold the location of the meeting from you. It will be found from a note downstairs. Do not bother reading it: it is code that only Reg, at least in this village, can understand. And, as I already mentioned, disobedience will have consequences.” He trots to the door, dragging the now all limp Chillburn in his ethereal hold. Before he can disappear completely, a tortured voice speaks from the floor. It sounds as if the teeth in the speaker’s mouth might break at any moment.

“If you hurt her… I swear…”

“Yes, yes, I know,” says the unicorn dismissively. “You’ll kill me. I’m shocked, I really am.”

Thunderlane, summoning all his strength, manages to raise to his front legs. “No… That’s what you’ll beg me to do…”

In between Thunderlane’s painful panting and the eerie humming of the grey aura, silence chimes supreme.

“Reg will have one hour. That hour starts now.”

With that, he is gone.