Wandering through the sandy streets of Shirith, Cloud looked for the market district. Would it have killed him to tell me how to get there? Aside from the occasional curious glance, the Horses passing him in the semi-crowded street paid him no mind. Interestingly (at least to Cloud); Horses weren’t the only species around. He passed by Griffons, Buffalo and even a yellow Pegasus. Having heard the Pegasus speaking in fluent Saddline (as far as he could tell, anyway), it seemed pointless to ask her for directions.

Cloud had no intention of killing Ghyr Muhimm. In fact, he hoped to instead save him by warning him to get out of the city. If I can warn him that people want him dead, we might be able to fake his death. That way, I can avoid losing my guide through the desert without killing one of the few decent people I’ve met. However, without the ability to speak nor read Saddline, Cloud was very much lost. He couldn’t ask for directions, he couldn’t read signs and he couldn’t follow contextual clues such as the sound of street vendors shouting about their products.

“Dammit,” Cloud groaned to himself, “this is gonna take forever.” Maybe I should go back to the hospital and try to rescue Mawr directly. Now that I’m rested, my magic should work just fine, but would magic be enough? As far as I know, they might have a figurative knife at her throat at all times. If I tried to get her out, they might kill her - or send her away or whatever - before I have a chance to save her. He stopped walking and kicked the ground, toppling a lump of sand. “Twilight would know what to do. Hell, she’d probably have at least six contingency plans thought up by now.” His heart sank. “Twilight…”

He deeply missed his friend and mentor. Though he tried as well as he could to keep her off of his mind, it seemed as if everything around him was doing its best to remind him of her: Horses reading thick tomes as they walked, ornate jewelry vaguely reminiscent of the Elements of Harmony, a hanging store sign with the exact symbol of Twilight’s cutie mark-

Cloud halted in his tracks and turned back to look again. Sure enough, there it was - Twilight’s cutie mark. Even the colours looked exactly the same.

Wasting no time to think, Cloud rushed to the door...

...Only to smack his head against it.

“Ow! Shit!” He sat at the doorstep and rubbed his face. After a few movements, he looked up, his jimmies thoroughly rustled. “Stupid door!” He kicked it with a forehoof. “AGH! BALLS!” He sucked on his hoof, trying to dull the pain.

It took little time for Cloud’s emotions to take over. Screw your locks! He lit up his horn and teleported inside.

Mawr finally stirred, but her eyes remained closed and her body remained still. I need intel.

Focusing on every sense but sight, she could feel that she was lying on something soft, presumably a bed and area she was in smelled sterile, though dusty. She could feel straps on each of her legs, clearly put in place to restrain her to the bed, and something which felt suspiciously like rope tied around her chest.

Most likely a room in the hospital. Restraints could be because I’m a Changeling, though I should keep in mind I may have been recognised - I passed out, so I’d have reverted to my normal form. I can’t hear any breathing, or any sign of life in general, so it’s likely that there’s no one else in the room. Even so…

Mawr opened her eyes the slightest of cracks, enough to vaguely see and yet not enough to anyone to notice they weren’t closed. She glanced around to room with only her eyes, being sure to remain still otherwise, and saw that she seemed to have been correct: It was indeed a hospital room, and it seemed to be empty of people.

Slowly, Mawr opened her eyes fully and checked again. Once absolutely sure that she was alone, she tried to light up her horn, only to wince in pain. Crap… She knew exactly the problem, even if she was unable to see it. The straps on her legs weren’t the only bonds on her; rope had been tied around her chest to limit her wing movements and a metal ring shining like gold had been slid onto her horn - a magic dampener.

A creation of Minotaur origin during the War of the Horns, a piece of history which even Princess Celestia struggled to remember, magic dampeners were designed to stop the magic of ancient monstrosities capable of overthrowing kingdoms. Though their design had been simplified over the millennia, they were no less effective and had become a standard in all Equestrian prisons.

“Dammit…” Mawr muttered. I can’t shapeshift with this thing on my head. I need to find another way to-

The doors to the room swung open, and into the room strolled a weedy looking, sneering Horse in a suit of fading colours. Following him were two large Horses, each wearing an identical costume: A tacky tuxedo and sleek sunglasses. The three of them approached her bed.

Wait, isn’t that-? Mawr mentally scolded herself. Crap, I must be in Shirith. She grit her teeth. I might be in trouble…

“Well, well, well,” began the leader of the three, “Dethen Pain. Or is it ‘Mawr’ these days? I can never keep up with all the changes you make.”

“Money Masterless,” Mawr spat. “It’s been a while.”

Money chuckled. “After all the work you did for my family, after the way you betrayed them, you think you can just waltz back into our city without a problem?”

Mawr couldn’t help but smirk. “How’s your father? I heard my little stunt pushed him over the edge, so to speak.”

“Well, actually,” it was Money’s turn to smirk, “it wasn’t your ‘little stunt’.” He laughed like a strangled cat. “I’m the one who did the pushing.”

Mawr laughed coldly, never breaking eye contact.

“Nevertheless, here you are,” Money’s sneer finally fell, “and I won’t give you chance to get away this time.” He clicked his tongue and his goons stood to attention. “Watch her. Make sure she doesn’t escape before I have a chance to ship her off to the Changeling Queen.” Money walked out of the room, and his goons stayed by Mawr’s bed.

Mawr’s smirk grew into a full smile. Perfect…

Author's Notes:

For anyone who didn't see the blog post, I'll be posting shorter chapters but at a more frequent rate.