They ended up eating the last of their food that night.

Dissero found himself in a strange dilemma. He wanted to stay up, to help Silver somehow even though he knew next to nothing besides the most basic first aid, and they certainly didn’t have anything that could be used to treat his wing. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes open, the mental fatigue from his magical exertion pulling him into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Silver Feather, meanwhile, didn’t get any sleep at all. He spent his night curled up in a little ball of pain, gritting his teeth, nursing his wing, and imagining all the ugly things he’d do to those “Cell Spade” mares the instant he could walk again without feeling dizzy.

The next morning, having learned to cope with the pain in his wing, Silver set about the task of waking up his drained unicorn friend. Though the average pony would probably have began with some gentle nudging or whispered name calling, Silver was far more experienced in these matters and cut straight to the chase, using the empty food bag to gather some rainwater before dumping it on Dissero’s face.

Dissero’s eyes shot open in alarm, his hooves waving about as he gagged and coughed. “Agh fuck, Silver!”

“What, rough night?” Silver quipped. “Was it good for you too?”

Still coughing, Dissero rolled onto his belly before standing up. “Ah, fuck… what happened last night? I’m sore all over… Where are we?”

Silver said nothing, only waiting patiently.

Dissero eyed him expectantly for a few seconds, until the amnesia commonly associated with magic fatigue wore off, and the memories of the last couple days came rushing back to him. “Oh, right.”

“So what’s today’s plan, Dissy?” Silver looked out into the street, wincing as the movement jostled his wing. The rain had let up into a slight drizzle, and the street was livelier than yesterday. He frowned at the sight of a few foals running past.

Dissero sighed, following Silver’s gaze. “Well we’re out of food, still hungry, no closer to finding the others, and your wing is broken.” Seeing his friend’s wing hanging limply by his side, bent awkwardly in the middle, Dissero couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

“Looks like we’re in quite the pickle, huh Dissy?” Silver looked back to offer a characteristic grin, only for it to be replaced by a wince of pain.

“We’re fine, we can still do this,” Dissero said, climbing to his hooves. His stomach grumbled loudly as he spoke, reminding him of how long it had been since its last proper meal. “We’ll just… I’ll go to the foundry today, and you ask around for the crew and… we’ll meet back here tonight, then find somewhere to hide.”

“Are you two alright?”

The stallions looked around in surprise to find an earth pony mare standing in the street, just outside of their small shelter. Her coat was still just recognizable as a warm purple, and though its colors may have faded, her matching purple eyes still held a glint of lively hope uncommon in the Inner City. Her dull magenta mane was cut short and unkempt, the dirtied hairs tangled together as if they hadn’t been combed in years. Emblazoned on her flank was the image of a single, glowing white feather. A pair of burlap sacks hung at her sides, attached to eachother by a rope the same color as her mane.

Silver opened his mouth to say something snarky, but Dissero was quick to cut him off. “Do you know where we could find a doctor?”

The mare’s eyes traveled down to Silver’s injured wing, her gaze hardening at the sight. “Come with me.” She turned, heading down the street at a brisk trot.

“What, I can’t talk now?” Silver asked, flicking his tail.

“Not when you’re about to say something stupid,” Dissero answered, beckoning with his head. “Now let’s go get you fixed up.”

Silver rolled his eyes, his good wing fluttering irritably, but nonetheless he joined Dissero in following the mare. She led them through the maze of muddy streets with the confidence of a pony that had been in Harmony for a long time, past the crowds waiting to begin the day’s work in front of the fenced in, concrete building, and to a relatively large shack built from scrap metal sheets. Unlike most of the buildings Dissero had seen here, this one seemed to be fairly well constructed, and was even held together with actual nails.

“This is my clinic,” the mare said as she held the door open. “Come in and take a bed. I’ll be with you in a bit.”

Dissero dipped his head obligingly as he stepped past the threshold. “Thank you.”

The clinic was wide and open, with scattered candles and sunlight streaming through cracks in the walls illuminating a half dozen mattresses laid out on the floor in a couple clean rows. Along one row was a makeshift table formed from wooden crates covered with a long strip of balloon fabric, several small clay pots and bowls arranged atop it. Next to it was a short wooden table in surprisingly good condition, the first piece of actual furniture that Dissero had seen in Harmony. It was entirely clear, decorated only by an blanket marred by dark red stains. The rain beat a staccato rhythm as it fell against the metal roof, the tinny notes echoing slightly.

Most of the beds were empty, with the sole exception of one in the far corner. A zebra was resting on it, a strip of fabric wrapped around his barrel, seeming practically dead but for the barely perceptible rising and falling of his chest.

Silver chose a bed close to the door, sitting on it gingerly, shifting side to side as if he was itching to run outside. “What happened to the zebra?”

The mare picked her bags up off her back and placed them on the long table, opening them to reveal the green leaves and colorful flowers inside. She began to sort them into piles, her voice kept carefully level as she spoke. “He was shot by one of the Baron’s guards.”

“Yeah?” Silver sat up a little straighter, trying to see the zebra’s face, but he was turned towards the wall. “What for?”

“For rebelling against the Baron,” she said.

Silver frowned thoughtfully. “So he’s a rebel?”

The mare mixed a few herbs together in a bowl, mashing them up with a clay mortar. “That’s right.”

“Silver,” Dissero cautioned.

“Pfft,” the pegasus scoffed, flicking his tail. “Fuckers aren’t so tough once they get a bullet in ‘em, huh Dissy?”

There was a loud thunk as the mare dropped her pestle on the table, turning sharply on Silver. “What was that?”

“Silver.” Inwardly, Dissero couldn’t help but sigh in frustration at his friend’s utter lack of tact.

“These rebel fucks,” Silver repeated, looking down on the wounded zebra. “Go around stealing food and breaking wings, acting all tough. Nice to see a little karma coming their way.”

The mare narrowed her eyes. “Who broke your wing?”

“Some rebels.” Silver waved a hoof dismissively, wincing at another jolt of pain. “Called themselves ‘Cell Spade’ or whatever-the-fuck.”

After a tense moment, the mare turned back to her work. “Cell Spade are not true rebels. They are bandits, just wearing the title to justify their petty crimes.”

Dissero allowed himself to breathe again, his eyes darting between the two ponies as he weighed the question on his lips. “So there are actual rebels, then?”

She nodded, inspecting the crushed up mixture in her bowl. “Yes... though there’s not many of us around these days.”

Dissero perked up at that. If this mare was telling the truth, then his chances of escape might not be as bleak as he thought. He had to learn more, find a way to enlist the aid of these rebels. “Us?”

Satisfied, the mare grabbed the bowl in a hoof and stepped over to the unconscious zebra, sitting down at his side. She began to unwrap his bandages as she spoke. “There used to be more of us, plenty more of us, back when I… joined. But we were too powerful, too dangerous, and the Baron brought his hoof down hard. His ponies killed anyone that helped us, smoked out our hides and wiped out our leaders. Most of the cells stopped fighting back, laying low until it all blew over, but then ponies stopped giving us food, afraid of what would happen if they were caught.” She dropped the used bandages in a nearby bucket, the scent of blood growing stronger as it stained the water inside red. “So some of the cells resorted to force, taking the food. Things have gotten easier since then, but those false rebels aren’t ready to give up their easy life. So they keep the name, and make the few of us who still fight look bad.”

Dissero’s nose wrinkled up at the smell, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the wound in the zebra’s side. There was just a solid chunk of flesh missing, the edges of the hole torn and ragged like the meat served at taverns in Gryphos. He saw Silver making a similar expression, leaning back in shock. “And how would one join these true rebels?”

The mare paused, looking up first at Dissero, and then Silver. “I could arrange for something, but you should know that it isn’t easy. If you think living under the Baron is tough, you should see what it’s like living against him.”

“We aren’t the type of ponies to quiet down and let some rich bastard sit on us just cause he can,” Silver said. “We like our freedom.”

The mare nodded, turning back to her patient. She began to carefully administer the freshly made poultice to the wound with her hoof, causing the zebra to twitch and grunt in his sleep. “I’ll speak to the necessary ponies.”

They lapsed into a steady silence, Dissero and Silver sitting next to eachother as the mare finished working on the injured zebra. Once she had applied a fresh set of fabric bandages to the wound, she turned to Silver.

“Lay down,” she said. He obliged, fidgeting as the mare ran her hooves over his wing.

Dissero stepped away to give her some room to work. “How’s it look?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “This is going to hurt.”

Silver poked his head up in alarm. “Wait, whaaaAAGH, fuck!” he screamed, his breathing suddenly coming hard and heavy. “Fuck!”

“Don’t worry, that was the worst of it,” the mare said, walking up to her supply table. “The joint was dislocated, I had to set it.”

“Fucking fuck!” Silver added in thanks. Dissero reached out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder, to which he responded with a vicious glare.

She returned to his side, setting down a small section of metal pipe and some more bandages. “Now for the broken bone…” She trailed off, feeling the wing with her hooves, eliciting even more thankful exclamations from Silver.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to mend this correctly,” she said.

Silver paused his cascade of curses just long enough to raise a brow. “You fuckin’ what?”

The mare’s frown deepened as she explained. “The bone has actually shattered into a few pieces here, whoever did this knew what they were doing. I don’t have any way to see them or move them individually… I’ll do my best to set it right, but there’s a chance that the wing won’t mend properly.”

“And what would that mean?” Dissero asked.

She looked up, sighing. “It would make flight impossible.”

Silver jerked up into a half-seated position. “What?” And then again. “What?”

“I’m sorry, there’s only so much I can do,” the mare said. “There’s no proper medical tools in the Inner City, besides what the Baron keeps in his towers.”

“Then why don’t we go get some out of the Baron’s fuckin’ towers?” Silver asked, wincing as he climbed to his hooves. “C’mon Dissy, we’ve got a tower to raid.

“You can’t be serious,” the mare said. “He has guards all over. Just getting into a tower is incredibly dangerous. Believe me, we’ve tried it before.”

Dissero raised a cautioning hoof. “Silver… I think we’re just going to have to hope the bone mends right.”

Silver’s tail flicked back and forth. He stood stock still, brow furrowed, looking at the door. After nearly a minute he relented, laying back down heavily. “Alright, fine. Just get it over with.”

The mare nodded as she began her work, indicating that Silver should lie down. He did so, and she started to adjust the position of his wing, ignoring his pained winces. Dissero watched with concerned silence as she stretched the wing out completely, lining the short metal rod up with the tip before tightly wrapping the whole thing in bandages.

“There,” she said. “Done.”

“Great,” Silver quipped, hastily climbing to his hooves. “C’mon, Dissy, let’s go find some food.”

Dissero shot an annoyed glare at Silver before turning back to the helpful mare. “Thank you very much, really, but we have to get going now.”

The mare frowned as the two stallions began to leave. “Are you hungry? I have some spare food.”

Silver ignored her, pretending he didn’t hear as he stepped outside. Dissero, meanwhile, froze mid-stride. His horn glowed as he grabbed the tip of Silver’s long tail and pulled the pegasus back inside. “That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll be right back,” the mare said. She headed towards the back of the room, passing through a hanging curtain on the far wall.

The instant the curtain settled, the two stallions rounded on eachother.

“Dissy, you know it pisses me off when you grab my tail like that,” Silver whispered furiously.

“And you know I hate it when you act like a foal,” Dissero shot back.

Silver reared back in mock shock. “Me, act like a foal?”

“Stop being such a prick, Silver! That mare has done literally nothing but help us. She fixed your wing, for Celestia’s sake!”

“She’s a rebel! They broke it too!”

“Okay, look.” Dissero closed his eyes, raising a hoof to his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on, maybe it hadn’t been so smart to use his magic so soon. “Just… deal with it. This mare knows ponies, we need her help to find the crew. Once we get that, then maybe I’ll let you be a prick, alright?”

“Let me?” Silver scoffed. “I’m an adult! I’ll have you know I can be a prick as much as I want without your permission, thank you!”

A rustling from the curtain announced the mare’s return, and the two stallions quickly looked away from eachother, their faces falling with ease into practiced expressions of neutrality. She had a sack balanced on her back which, when Dissero opened it, he found contained a full loaf of bread, a fresh tomato, and even a couple colorful flowers.

“That should help some,” she said. “I’ll be back later tonight, you two can feel free to rest here until I get back.” She grabbed her makeshift saddlebags up off the supply table, slinging them onto her back, and made for the door. She paused at the threshold, looking back. “I never caught your names.”

“I’m Dissero,” Dissero said, speaking hastily to make sure Silver couldn’t say anything rude. “And this is Silver Feather.”

She dipped her head. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is… Nix.” With a little smile, she stepped outside.

Silver flicked his tail, eyeing the zebra lying in the corner. “We aren’t staying here, right?”

“We’re staying here,” Dissero said, plopping his rear down on a bed meaningfully.

Silver leaned against the wall begrudgingly. “Bastard.”

Author's Notes:

So I've decided that if a chapter is unusually short (i.e. 3,000–4,000 words) then I'll post it in between the regular weekly updates. A bonus update, of sorts!