The icy wind bit into Daring Do as she trudged through the street, her hooves leaving deep imprints in the snow. She glanced back in irritation at her wings; the tips were covered in frost and the cold had numbed them so much that if she couldn’t see them, she wouldn’t know they were still attached to her. Her legs protested having to carry her weight across the snow.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Whatever toxin she’d been hit with, it had messed her up badly. Even hours after the initial exposure, she could still feel the chills dancing up and down her spine, and could not shake the feeling that something was following her every hoofstep.

“Not now,” she hissed to herself, pausing to take in her surroundings. Clenching her jaw together to silence her chattering teeth, she looked up at the street signs. Thirteenth and Moonglaive…she nodded. Right. The Tasty Treat wasn’t that far from here. She'd have to go back and try to find a clue as to where they went.

The sound of grumbling engines approaching forced her to duck into a dead-end alleyway, taking cover behind an overflowing dumpster. Peeking over the top, she watched as a pair of snowmobiles slowly passed by, their bundled-up riders sweeping the streets with powerful searchlights. She ducked back behind cover as the lights passed over her, holding her breath. The patrol evidently didn’t see her, because the lights moved past without incident.

She peeked out again, and saw that there was a third pony with the patrol. A tall, bulky figure dressed in a fire-retardant coat and boots, with a fuel tank across their back attached to fuel lines running to a gauntlet on their right foreleg, and an old-fashioned gas mask covering their head. They walked slowly up the streets behind the two snowmobiles, their head swiveling back and forth.

The Scorcher paused at the head of the alley where Daring was hiding, looking down towards her hiding position. In the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, Daring could see that his gas mask was painted white, with a red, garish, clown-like smile running up the “cheeks.” The two eyeholes were like round tears in the white, a pair of empty holes staring in her direction. The Scorcher stepped forward, his head tilting a little to the side as if in curiosity, and raised his right foreleg. With a click, a small blue pilot light ignited on the weapon, the tiny flame dancing tauntingly as he advanced.

Daring hissed out a curse and tensed her body, grabbing her whip from beneath her coat. She tried to stretch her wing out a bit, but the frostbitten muscles refused to respond. Backed into a dead-end street and exhausted with three armed ponies facing her, she didn’t stand much of a chance.

“There’s nothing here, dude!” one of the other ponies called back. “Let’s keep going, I wanna get out of the cold.”

“I still can’t believe we lost them,” his partner grumbled. “Who knew that ponies wearing full armor could run that fast?”

“At least we got Finder and his friends. That’s something,” the first pony answered.

The Scorcher paused, then turned and continued after them, disappearing down the street. Daring sighed in relief and replaced her weapon. As soon as the sound of the engines disappeared, she broke from her hiding place and started hurrying towards the Tasty Treat.

There were still a few roving patrols and sentries between her and her destination, but she avoided all of them. It took her twenty minutes to finally reach the Tasty Treat. The little restaurant loomed silently in the snow, a silent witness to the bleak state of the city.

Checking around one last time to make sure that the patrols had moved on, Daring stepped forward and pushed the door open.

Suddenly, something seized her around the throat and yanked her inside the darkened interior of the restaurant. Hooves wrapped around her body and covered her mouth, and a blade was pressed against her neck.

“Hold it!” a voice hissed from the shadows. “It’s Daring.”

Her captors released her and she leapt out of reach, looking around. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she recognized the Guard team that had escorted them. Captain Polaris, Prowl, Bumblebee, Screecher, Gold Dust, Ruby Eye, and Feathered Flight, all of them clutching their dripping wet parkas to themselves.

“What’re you all doing here?” Daring hissed, half in relief and half in irritation.

“We’re waiting for the patrols to move on,” Sergeant Gold Dust replied. “Then we’re getting out of here.”

“Wha-you’re leaving?!” Daring snapped. She glared at the group of armored ponies. “You call yourself Guards?! Our friends have been captured, and you’re running away?! You all—”

“Daring,” Polaris cut in. “We’re not running away. We’re chasing after them. We just need to wait for the patrols to move on.”

“...oh,” Daring stammered, her ears flattening against her head. “Right.”

She sat down amidst the City Guards and they waited in silence for several minutes. Ruby Eye stood post next to the curtained window, carefully peeking out with one eye to watch the movements of the enemies outside. Polaris and Prowl both watched the closed door, ready for any intruders. The low winds from outside the Tasty Treat sang softly.

"Are you okay?" Bumblebee whispered to Daring. "You're not hurt, are you?"

She blinked in surprise at being addressed. "I'm fine," she responded. "You?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're all okay." Daring saw the shadow that she assigned Bumblebee's voice nodding. "That was really close, though."

"It was," Screecher replied. "We're lucky they didn't grab us all."

"And that you regrouped here," Daring commended them.

Gold Dust chuckled once. "They wouldn't think to look here. Not when we just ran away."

Daring appraised her and nodded. "Smart."

"We're Canterlot City Guards," Gold Dust told her. Even in the dark, Daring could see her winking at her. "We're professionals."

“Sir, they’re clearing out,” Ruby Eye called, watching from the curtained window. “Hold on...yeah, they’re gone.”

“Let’s move out, then,” Polaris ordered. The team exited the restaurant, checking around for any stragglers, but the streets were fortunately deserted. As Daring turned to follow them, a faint glimmer caught her eye. Glancing down, she saw the carved crystal that Twilight had been wearing, forgotten on the ground. She bent down and picked it up, placing it around her own neck. She’d give that back to Twilight when she found them. Having acquired her gear, she followed the others outside.

“Sergeant Dust, tracking spell,” Polaris instructed.

Gold Dust bent her head close to the ground and sent out several pulses of pale yellow magic that traveled through the air. Faintly glowing hoofprints appeared in the snow, more than a dozen of them overlapping each other.

“Those are our tracks, as we ran out of the restaurant,” she said, following a trail with her hoof. “We stopped here...some of us flew away. This trail here…” she wondered, following a pair of trails leading down the road.

“That’s Pinkie Pie and Rarity,” Daring stated. “I recognize their horseshoes.”

The team followed the mares’ trail. Before long, they were intercepted by other sets of hoofprints.

“These must be the abductors,” she concluded. She sent out more pulses of magic, revealing more of the hoofprints. There was a mass of tangled prints where there’d been a struggle, then the abductor’s trail walked away, dragging two lines in the snow behind them. The trail disappeared soon after, intercepting a pair of long parallel lines.

“They dropped them into a truck,” Gold Dust stated, focusing her magic on the truck’s tracks.

“Hey, I just remembered,” Prowl said, rummaging around in his saddlebag. He extracted the marked-up map that Shining Armor had left behind. “We could use this to avoid our enemies."

“Wait,” Bumblebee protested. “There’s got to be at least a hundred of them between us and them, and we can’t get backup this far into enemy territory.” He looked around at the group. “Are you sure we can—?”

“Don’t say that, private,” Polaris interrupted with the measured tone of a teacher disciplining a student. “We are the Royal Guard. We are still alive, which means we are still capable of kicking ass. And our friends need us.” He looked each of his team in the eye. “Are we gonna back down now?”

“Hell no, sir,” Daring grunted in reply.

“Hell no, sir!” the others barked after her.

Polaris nodded and grinned. “Then let’s move out!”

Gold Dust refreshed the tracking spell to highlight the truck’s tire tracks and the team hurried after their quarry.

Had it been hours or days? Phillip could no longer tell. All he knew was that he was still tied down to the bed of silk sheets that were now stained with his liquids, his body aching and his eyes burning from tears, and his rapist was curled up next to him, dozing contentedly like nothing else mattered.

The memories of the event played over and over again in the forefront of Phillip’s mind, like a film reel stuck on replay. He had vomited after the first round, as if trying to expel Zugzwang’s vile seed from his body, but Zugzwang had only laughed and continued as if this wasn’t wrong, as if this was normal. After the third time, he forced himself to go numb just to remain intact. He’d passed out soon after, and now was only coming to again.

He tested the ropes binding him down and found that they did not yield. He couldn’t have fought back. He couldn’t have done anything.

But he still should have! He could have kicked or screamed or bit! He could have struggled and roared! But instead, he just lay there and took it! He let it happen! He could have...he should have…

Oh God.

Oh, dear God.

A feeble groan escaped from his throat before he could stifle it. Zugzwang stirred, humming softly as he opened his eyes and smiled. “Allo, liebling,” he cooed, kissing Phillip on the cheek. “Ack, we made quite a mess, didn’t we?” he laughed, undoing the bonds that held Phil down to the bed. “Come, let us go clean off.”

Phillip felt himself being lifted up, his hooves still hobbled to keep him under control. Now! Fight back! Do something!

But his limbs were numb and his head remained low. He followed the cheerily humming Zugzwang into an adjoining bathroom. He obediently allowed himself to be placed in a large bathtub which was quickly filled up with warm, soapy water that smelled of citruses and daisies. Zugzwang climbed in with him and began to almost lovingly scrub them both down with soap, singing a Gerwhin folk song as he cleaned him. Phillip had to force himself not to flinch every time his captor’s hooves stroked his coat. And when the bar of soap gently stroked his throbbing sheathed regions, he had to bite back a whimper of pain.

“There. All better now,” Zugzwang finally declared, rinsing them both off with cold water. He helped Phillip climb out of the bathtub and levitated over a pair of towels, drying them both off. Still Phillip did not resist. Something broken was rattling around inside him.

Zugzwang finished drying them both off and led them back into the bedroom, having Phil sit down next to the bed. There was a knock at the door and a mare henchpony entered, holding a box covered with a red ribbon.

“The stuff you asked for, master,” she said, giving Phil a brief sneer over Zugzwang’s shoulder. “I got it from the place down the road.”

“Dankeschoen,” Zugzwang nodded, taking the box from her and closing the door. He carried the box over to a desk and set it down. “I’m sure you’re hungry, liebling,” he commented casually, pulling a carafe of ice water and two glasses out of a cupboard and pouring them both a drink. Phil’s stomach twisted in hunger and he was suddenly aware of how much his dry throat ached.

“I suppose I could give you something to refresh yourself,” Zugzwang said, walking back over to Phillip and sitting down on the bed in front of him. “If you made it worth my while.” He smirked at his captive, who looked up at him, slowly realizing what he was meant to do.

A spark of fight danced in Phil’s chest, and he thought of all the ways there are to hurt a pony, to bring about vengeance for all the mistreatment that he had wrought upon him, upon his friends, upon this city…

“Remember our agreement, Phillip,” Zugzwang cut in, his eyes suddenly hard and cold even as the smirk still played about his face.

The spark died instantly, and Phil allowed himself to lean forward. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and did not open them again until it was all over.

“Guter Junge,” Zugzwang praised, stroking Phillip’s mane and ears as he coughed. “And you even swallowed. You’ve earned a small reward.”

He carried the little meal over to Phillip, who was now laying on the floor, not looking at anything.

Smirking, Zugzwang placed one of the glasses and the little box on the floor in front of Phil, who stirred faintly as the scent of the dessert reached his nostrils. The box contained several chocolate covered strawberries, arranged in little rows.

Moaning softly in relief, Phil took the glass in his hobbled hooves and drank down several gulps of the ice water. The cold drink went a way towards relieving his throat, but did not remove the bitter, salty taste that hovered on the back of his tongue. In an attempt to remove it, he turned to the strawberries. Popping two into his mouth, he quickly chewed and swallowed them, though they did little to satisfy his hunger or remove the filthy taste. He took a third strawberry and began to chew it more slowly, trying to savor the taste. Light, milky chocolate intermingling beautifully with the juiciness of the fruit, with a hint of nuts at the end…

A spark of memory danced in the back of his mind. Oak wooden tables, dim, scented candles...slow, flowing music on flutes and strings...fish muddle...Daring…

The Three Tribes Eatery! And the henchpony had said that it was down the road!

He kept his face neutral as the gears began to turn in his head, taking another strawberry. He went over his mental map of Canterlot’s Historical District, retracing his tracks from the tavern. He cast his eyes over the stone walls of the room and spotted a small carving in the top corner of the room: a swirling, backwards S—a mason’s mark—and in miniscule writing, “312 RA.”

This building had been built in the 312th year of the Reign of the Alicorns, thirty years before Luna’s fall and banishment. And then he remembered the carved alicorns on the door to this room. Just like the carved alicorns on the door of an ancient abbey that he had passed on the way, dedicated to the worship of the alicorns.

And if memory served, there was a bell in the northern corner of the temple, hanging from an open steeple; he had heard its peals as he left the Eatery with Daring, calling parishioners to evening service. If he could reach the tower, he could signal for help.

“Do you think we should go visit your friends, liebling?” Zugzwang taunted, forming some of the spare rope into a leash and tightening it around Phillip’s neck, hard enough to choke him. Phil stood up and allowed Zugzwang to drag him out of the room, past the sneering guards, and down the hallway.

They passed a window and Phil glanced up. The sky was still dark and empty, and the streets bare and blanketed in snow, but in the distance he could see the faint lights of the towers of the Royal Palace against the black backdrop. Quickly reorienting his mental map of Canterlot, he realized that he was fortuitously walking north, towards his target.

But then Zugzwang tugged on his leash and started pulling him down a thin staircase. Phil stumbled, then suddenly lunged forward, ramming the top of his head into Zugzwang’s jaw. Surprised by the action, Zugzwang grunted in pain and stumbled back. His hoof slipped on the step, and he began tumbling down the staircase, dropping the leash.

Released, Phil quickly bit off the ropes that tied his front hooves together, then snapped the ropes on his hind legs with a quick buck backwards, simultaneously knocking out a guard that was trying to rush him from behind. He sprinted up the hallway, kicking off the wall to avoid another pair of enemies that was trying to block him, forcing himself to run through the pain that covered his body.

A sign over his head pointed to the belltower. Mere feet ahead of his pursuers, he made a tight turn to the right, ducked beneath a cudgel swinging at his head and counterattacked with an elbow strike to the ribs, and kept running, barging through a door. A circular flight of upward stairs stretched before him.

He felt a cold wind behind him and turned, his heart momentarily stopping at the sight. A mass of black smoke was rushing towards him up the hallway, so thick it looked like a solid wall. He turned and raced up the stairs, leaping up onto the banister and climbing up the flight like it was a ladder. The smoke swirled up beneath him and began to pursue him. Ignoring the fact that his aching forelegs could barely hold up his weight, he climbed faster.

He reached the top, where a long rope dangled from a hatch in the ceiling, but so did the smoke, which coalesced between him and the rope and turned into Zugzwang. He glared at Phillip with an expression not unlike a disapproving parent regarding a disobedient child.

“Phillip, what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his horn sparking dangerously. “You’re only hurting yourself, and your friends.”

Phillip hesitated, assessing his enemy. He heard hoofsteps from below and glanced down momentarily, spotting a unicorn mare leaning over the railing of the steps beneath him, aiming a pepperbox revolver up at him. He recognized her as Laurier de Montaigne, Scarlet Letter’s maid and bodyguard.

The momentary distraction was all Zugzwang needed. A stream of magic burst from his horn, directed at Phillip. Having anticipated the attack, Phillip dodged to the side, feeling the heat of the spell as it passed over his shoulder as he seized Zugzwang’s hoof, pulling him towards him and placing his enemy in between himself and Laurier. Momentarily caught off-guard, Zugzwang countered by grounding himself, then grabbing Phillip’s foreleg and trying to pull him into a joint lock. Allowing himself to be pulled towards Zugzwang, Phillip jumped, pushing down on Zugzwang’s head as he climbed up onto his back, then jumped off. His hooves wrapped around the rope and he pulled with everything he had.

With a great tolling that shook the entire tower, the bell above him rang, again and again, sending out its desperate cry into the still city air.

Not far away, Daring Do and the City Guards looked up at the noise. “What’s that?” Screecher asked.

“Faust Abbey!” Polaris declared, sprinting ahead. The others followed behind, invigorated by the cry for help.

With a snarl, Zugzwang struck Phillip across the jaw, sending him spinning to the floor, unconscious. He stood over his captive’s form, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. Stupid idiot he was, to let his guard down like that, to think that he could be broken that easily.

Laurier raced up the stairs and held up her weapon, aiming at Phil’s head. “Should I kill him, monsieur?” she asked in a tone that clearly indicated that she had every intention of doing so and that it was only his presence that stopped her from pulling the trigger.

“No,” Zugzwang answered. “He and his friends will still make valuable hostages. Tell everypony to get ready for an attack; we may have friends visiting us soon.”

“Oui, monsieur,” Laurier nodded, rushing off to warn the others. Zugzwang lifted the still unconscious Phillip up onto his back, conjuring more rope and binding his hooves and strapping a muzzle over his mouth. He carried him back down the stairs into his room, dropped him down onto the bed, and retied him to the posts.

“I need more guards up here,” he reported into an intercom on the wall. At his summons, four more guards soon appeared in the room, all of them armed.

“I want you to keep him in sight at all times,” he instructed them calmly. “Do not let him escape. If he tries to fight back, do not be afraid to hurt him.”

“Yes, master,” all of them saluted as Zugzwang exited the room. The unicorn took a slow breath to invigorate himself for the battle before him.

Author's Notes:

Even when it's dark, there are still the stars.

Things are starting to turn around, slowly. Got about five more chapters to go for this. Hang tight, readers.