27th day of Frostfall
454 Years after the Defeat of Discord by the Sisters

Pallas jumped straight up as a burst of black flames exploded at her hooves, her wings too wide to extend in the confines of the hovel she found herself in. A wave of heat hit her at the same time as the feathered form that slammed into her chest, knocking her back with supernatural strength. She was thrown back into a couch, the rotting fabric and wood snapping under the hammerblow of her crash landing.

The peryton flew back as she lashed out at it with a hoof, the monster jumping across the room in a single bound, moving so quickly it almost seemed to blur in the dim light. Pallas panted, wiping blood from her mouth from where she’d bit her tongue.

“You’re still wounded from your duel,” the mare in the other room said, waiting for Pallas to make a foolish move and expose herself to the suppressive fire the unicorn was providing again. “And on top of that you’re nursing injuries from your war.”

“You say that like you weren’t involved.” Pallas kept her eyes on the stag-headed monster as it flickered from side to side, not wanting to get flanked by it again.

“Who says I was?” The mare had a strange accent. Pallas couldn’t quite place it, but it reminded her of when Bianca was upset.

Bianca. Pallas felt something tug at her heart. She really hoped Silver Tongue had an escape route planned. It was the first time she really hoped his paranoia was going to pay off.

“So who hired you?” Pallas asked. “I mean, I can guess. There’s only one rich idiot who would
want me dead.”

“Only one? Is that what you really think?” The mare sounded amused. “You’ve no idea just what kind of enemies you have. That said, I do want you to know this is nothing personal. I’m just doing a dirty little job.”

“Even though I killed your soldiers?” The peryton snapped its teeth, a false lunge forwards that stopped as soon as Pallas raised her blades. Despite how much it looked like a mindless beast, she felt like there was a cunning, dangerous intelligence behind its glowing eyes.

“Assassins, dear, not soldiers,” the mare corrected. “And only initiates at that. A useful first wave, though. They’ve already served to separate you from your friends and given our secondary target a death sentence. In fact, I’m quite pleased with their performance. I was expecting they’d die without doing more than drawing you out into the open.”

“If you’d just been after me, I’d tell you to walk away,” Pallas said. “I’m going to kill you for what you did to Bianca, though. And it’s not gonna be a nice clean death, either”

“You’re not going to have a chance,” the mare said. “Brains beats muscle every single time. The peryton is faster than you, I’m smarter, and both of us know something you don’t.”

“And what’s that?” Pallas asked.

“That while we keep you busy, somepony else is going to make sure your freaky little marefriend doesn’t make it to a doctor.”

Silver Tongue balanced Bianca in the air behind him. His telekinesis wasn’t terribly strong, as he’d always been more worried about making sure he could manage the delicate work of inscribing runes and enchantments into objects, and while he could manage her weight, he wanted to make sure he didn’t swing the injured mare he was holding into a wall. Trying to hold her and fling the chair he was holding was like rubbing your stomach and patting your head at the same time, something that should have been easy in principle but required concentration.

“Hang on,” Silver Tongue said. He threw the chair through the window, the cracked glass shattering under the blow and exploding outwards. He followed it, carefully stepping out onto an awning stretched tightly enough to just barely support his weight.

Thankfully, his delicate touch came in hoof as he maneuvered Bianca out through the window, deftly avoiding the shards of glass still affixed to the frame.

“There’s a pony that runs a clinic just a few streets away,” Silver Tongue assured her. “Well, not exactly a pony but… you’ll see. He’s trustworthy. Saved my life a few times and taught me more about magic than the Academy ever did.”

“I-it hurts,” Bianca whispered. “It feels like all my muscles are cramping.”

“I know,” Silver Tongue said, sympathetically. “Just stay awake, and don’t move too much. I’m sorry I couldn’t close the wound, but letting it bleed might mean some of the poison comes out with the blood. You understand?” Bianca nodded. “Okay. Good. You need to live because otherwise Luna is going to kill me.”

Bianca’s eyes went wide as she looked past him, her mouth opening to yell something. Silver Tongue threw up a shield before even turning, the runes along his horn lighting up as a hemisphere of light appeared behind him.

Steel slammed into the shield, caught in the field of magic and hanging in midair. Silver Tongue took a step back as he turned. His shield had held, just barely. A projectile as long as a spear and made entirely of metal had impacted with enough force that a hooflength of it had gotten through the barrier, the shield only catching it partway down its length.

“Tartarus,” Silver Tongue swore, spitting as he looked into the shadows. A fraction of a second slower and he’d be dead already. There was no sign of where it had come from. He backed slowly away from the direction it had come from. He needed to get the rest of the way down to the ground, and avoid.

Silver Tongue felt the impact of the next bolt like a punch to the horn, the weapon embedding itself into his magic. He paled as he saw where it was pointed, right towards where Bianca was hanging in the air. Silver Tongue pulled her closer to protect her better. The bolts in his shield were giving him a headache but he didn’t dare drop it for even a second to free them.

A glint caught his eye, and he looked at the tip of the weapon closely. The edge wasn’t steel, but some kind of dimly glowing green crystal, faceted and polished to a razor-sharp arrowhead and girded in steel for strength, leaving only the very edges exposed. He could feel it drawing on his magic, siphoning mana from his shield.

“No wonder it got through…” he muttered.

There was a jerk underhoof. A bolt slammed into one of the supports for the awning that was already barely supporting Silver Tongue, snapping the wood with the force of its blow. Silver Tongue pitched forwards as he fell two stories down to land on a cart of cabbages that had seen better days, the leaves browning and wilted. He lost his magical grip on Bianca, the thestral landing next to him. The two crystal-tipped bolts dropped to the ground heavily as his shield collapsed.

“Thank Harmony for soft landings,” he muttered, grabbing Bianca and rolling to the side of the cart facing the building’s outer wall, taking cover behind it.

“Just my luck,” Silver Tongue muttered. “I manage to avoid doing any real fighting for the whole war, then when I get home I get attacked by a bunch of ponies I’ve never even seen before. I don’t remember making anypony upset enough to kill me.”

“Second building on the right,” Bianca whispered. “The third floor.”

“What?” Silver Tongue frowned, looking over the cabbage cart. Bianca grabbed his leg and pulled him down as a bolt slammed through the air where his head had been.

“I can hear where they’re coming from, and the window there is open. I think I saw somepony moving around up there.” Bianca glanced up, shivering.

“Right,” Silver Tongue muttered. “It’s days like this that make me wish I’d studied evocation. Must be something I can do…” He looked at the cart. “Hm. I’ve got an idea.”

Pallas followed the petyron, just barely able to keep up with its movements. She knew she had, at best, only a few moments before it or the mare attacked again, and if somepony was about to ambush Bianca and Silver Tongue, she didn’t have that time to waste.

She dropped her guard and deliberately looked away, towards the doorway. The petyron lunged at her, talons sinking into her barrel like knives. Instead of trying to fight it off, she grabbed it with her wing and ran towards the door. It pushed at her, trying to get away.

The unicorn outside flung a bolt of fire at Pallas. The black flames struck the monster in the back, between the wings, and Pallas was nearly deafened as it screeched in pain, the stink of burning feathers filling the room. Pallas grabbed its neck with her teeth, blunt teeth holding the thrashing monster in place as it raked at her side.

“No! Get away!” the unicorn screeched. She fired another magical attack, the hot spark exploding into a burst of flames. Pallas closed her eyes against the heat and light, her ears folding as she felt blisters forming where she wasn’t shielded by the monster she was holding as a bulwark against the fire.

Pallas slammed a wingblade into and through the petyron, the heavy blade splitting it in two. She felt resistance as something caught her attack. The petyron fell away, blood spraying into the air and splattering against the glasslike surface of a hardened magical aura.

“You’re no match for me!” The assassin yelled and pushed Pallas’ blade away, the weapon starting to grow warmer as her magic pressed on it.

Pallas turned, her injured wing lashing out, the other wingblade sweeping up into the shield as she pulled the first back, the edge of the blade glowing a dull red with heat. The unicorn grunted with effort as she kept the shield going, flames licking up from the floor where the border of the barrier intersected the wood and trash at her feet.

“Knock it off, you idiot!” She screamed. “You’re hurting yourself more than you’re hurting me!”

The first wingblade came down again, the edge still glowing. The unicorn was sweating, her knees starting to shake. The other blade hit again, forcing the unicorn to her knees as she struggled to maintain the shield.

“Can’t you even feel that?” The mare whispered, as she tried to keep her shield from breaking, every blow sending a sympathetic shudder through her horn.

Pallas roared and attacked with both blades at once, scything into the shield like a huge pair of scissors. The field of magic collapsed in a rush of hot air, the unicorn frozen in horror as she was left defenseless. Blood sizzled on the wingblades like water on a skillet as they slashed through her body, the gore steaming on Pallas’ coat as she breathed heavily, the red rain soothing her burns.

“Normally a magus is expected to say something rather dramatic before enacting his brilliant plan,” Silver Tongue muttered. “Forgive me if I decide not to give our attacker any warning instead.” His horn lit up, and the cabbages in the cart started shaking as a magical aura sank into them.

As one, they bounced out of the cart like they were being thrown. The cabbages hit the street and rolled as a mass towards the building. The cart shuddered as a bolt hit it, cracking right through the wood, the tip sparking as it scraped against the street.

“Come on,” Silver Tongue said, lifting Bianca in his aura. “I don’t know how long that’ll keep him busy.”

“Your plan was to throw cabbages across the road and run while he reloads?” Bianca asked, her voice weak.

“No, my plan was to put a come-to-life spell on the cabbages and have them give our attacker a nice big hug,” Silver Tongue retorted. Bianca watched as the vegetables crawled up the side of the building like they were rolling down a hill, converging on the open window and bounding inside. There was a cry of alarm from within, and Silver Tongue’s pace quickened.

“I thought you’d be more the type to throw a lightning bolt…” Bianca whispered.

“Too crass and not good for anything except hurting another pony. I prefer spells that have more than one use to them.” Silver Tongue shot a glance back to her, then shook her up and down like a doll. “No going to sleep! You have to stay awake and alert!”

“I’m just so tired…” Bianca complained.

“And I don’t want to end up dead when your marefriend finds out I didn’t get you to a doctor in time!” Silver Tongue snapped. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want to die either.” She didn’t reply. He looked back at her. Bianca’s eyes were closed and her breathing was fast and shallow. “Bianca?” He shook her. “Wake up!”