The late night wind blew swiftly through the vaulted towers of stone and brick that made up the residential section of Trottingham. Pale moonlight washed across the scene below of cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, and small wooden doors that made the city so distinctive from all others in Equestria.

Few electric lights burned in the double-paned windows that lined the narrow alleyway and refused to give their light to the harrowed mare who ran through the puddles left from the last rainfall.

She was an earth pony of few distinct features other than the small scars around her mouth and the grim haunted look that made its home within her eyes. All other identifying marks were obscured by a great brown cloak thrown about her shoulders that rested over her flank.

Her breath came in short gasps as her hooves pounded the street below and sent the sound echoing through the alleyway. She paused to check behind her before continuing on, and repeated the action every ten paces or so.

The cape she wore fluttered in the wind as the mare picked up her pace and sped down the alley toward the point where it met the street. She could find safety in the ponies who still made their way down the boulevard at that late hour.

She never got the chance. A misstep when running over a loose stone caused one of her hooves to get caught in the pavement and sent the mare tumbling to the ground in a crumpled heap that lay silently, cursing her lack of coordination.

Slowly, cautiously, the mare raised her head back toward the dark section of the alley from where she had come, and the last known sight of her unknown assailant. Surely, he had not stopped in his chase.

Nothing. Not a single movement stirred the inky darkness between buildings.

The pace of the mare’s heartbeat began to slow and her hooves stopped shaking against the cobblestone. She was safe; she had broken away from her pursuer. With a comforted sigh, the mare rose to her feet and began to back down the alley.

A chuckle passed over the ground behind her, and the mare looked up to find the grinning form of a pegasus roosting on a wooden outcropping of the building beside her.

The pegasus’ beady amber eyes glared down at the mare from a coat as dark as the streets around him. His blue and white mottled mane that had once been a proud mohawk was now cut down to just above the surface of his head.

Wordlessly, the pegasus dropped the ground in front of the mare and began to advance on her in slow and steady steps. It was all she could do to crawl backwards away from him, unable to keep her eyes off of his.

Those eyes . . . they tugged at her mind as she gazed into them. The amber irises shifted to a sickly green color and purple contrails of magic flowed out from the side. Dead center, the pegasus’ pupils glowed red as his grin grew larger.

Lightning the same color of the magic crackled around the pegasus’ wings, and crept toward the mare along the ground in an unnatural way. The bolts of electricity clawed and snapped at her and made the mare cry out in fear as they rendered her helpless on the ground.

The pegasus took his time to close the gap between them, relishing in his feeling of absolute dominance on the mare on the ground below him. When his smile widened to show his teeth, it revealed a mouth full of jagged incisors that were not pony in any way. A long tongue ran over them as the pegasus finally reached the mare and stared down at her.

He raised a hoof that sparkled in lightning and prepared to bring it down on the mare as she cringed and cried out in terror.

A single note of a violin’s bow playing across its strings rang out from above the alley and passed through the gulf between the mare and the pegasus.

He paused and craned his neck up at the tops of the houses lining the alleyway to find the source of the noise. In the distraction, the mare below him managed to scramble out from under his hooves and half-crawled, half-ran out of the alley.

The pegasus paid her no heed. He had heard that specific violin before. That same violin that was the reason he had to settle for the most pitiful of prey the streets of Trottingham could offer.

“Thunderlane,” a quiet, orderly voice called from the roof above him.

The pegasus once known as Thunderlane snarled and looked up to see a figure perched on the edge of the rooftop and looking down on him. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out any distinguishing features, but the voice was enough.

He knew that, up there, a mare with a grey coat and darker mane and violet eyes was glaring at him all high and mighty like she always had. Octavia, his rage-addled mind dimly recalled.

Thunderlane spread his wings and flapped up into the air, gliding over Octavia’s dark figure and landing on the vaguely-flat roof behind her. A small trail of lightning flashed in the air behind him, providing an illuminating glow to the area around them.

Octavia watched him without a word, and instead played a sharp note on the violin tucked under her chin.

“I thought you played a cello,” Thunderlane spat in a guttural voice.

The ends of Octavia’s mouth twitched. “I keep this one for traveling.”

“Why did you come to Trottingham, then?”

“I think you know.”

Thunderlane smiled and took a step toward Octavia. “Come to capture me at last, huh?”

Octavia placed her bow again on the strings of the violin before answering, “By order of both Princess Luna and her sister, Princess Celestia, you are accused of the unholy crime of the acquisition of dark magic, and its use on the citizens of Equestria. Verdict on pain of evidence is guilty.”

She brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. “Your sentence for these crimes is immediate arrest and escort to Canterlot for imprisonment.”

Thunderlane’s toothy smile flashed white in the night.

“And if I refuse?” he said.

“Then the penalty is death.”

Thunderlane laughed. “Were it so easy.”

He leapt into the sky just as his lightning tore through the thatched surface of the roof, setting it ablaze. The flames scrambled through the air toward Octavia, but by then she had already leapt off the roof.

In the middle of the air, the grey pony set her bow to the violin and began to play a dramatic tune in a steady beat even as she fell to the cobblestone street.*

Before she could impact on the pavement, the sharp, resonanting notes streaming from her violin took shape and color as they came to life in the air around her. A bed of purple light spread out below her as the magic caught the falling violinist and swiftly propelled her up and away from the street like a spring.

Octavia landed softly on the roof of another house and scanned the area around her even as she continued to play. She looked to the air around her for the pegasus, but found nothing.

Suddenly, the air sparked around her as a bolt of lightning lanced at her from behind. Octavia hit a high note and sidestepped the electric attack even as it scratched and burned the air next to her cheek before flying off and landing somewhere in the distance to be followed by a dull explosion.

At no time did she stop playing.

Octavia spun around and watched as Thunderlane swooped down at her from above with another bolt driving itself out from under his wings.

Ready this time, the violinist spun her magic into a ball and sent it racing forward to meet the lightning as it moved to the beat of the music.

The magical ball collided with the bolt in midair and exploded in a mighty burst of blue, sickly lightning that branched out everywhere and purple magic that faded with the roar of a dying star.

Fire rained down from above and set even more roofs alight with an unnatural green fire that burned evenly across the houses.

“You’ve gotten better since the last time we’ve met,” Thunderlane remarked. “Though I’m still surprised to see you holding off like this.”

Octavia didn’t say anything in return, but instead closed her eyes and as her tempo picked up. The soft notes came in high and held their tones longer as she played. Around her, the spiraling purple magic condensed again.

A single beam of violet light screamed through the air in a vicious arc that sliced upwards toward Thunderlane. The pegasus spread his wings and banked away from the attack, but the attack still rippled across the skin of his midsection, leaving an angry gash in its wake.

He cried out in anger and his green eyes glowed. “Alright, enough of this,” he growled. “Time to finish this fight!”

The dark grey pegasus threw back his forehooves and began to condense his dark energies into a ball around him. He sent the crackling magic hurtling forth a moment later in the form of a massive bolt of lightning as wide as a pony was tall.

Octavia glanced at him through half-lidded eyes as she let her magic flow down her legs and pool on the roof beneath her hooves. An explosion of purple-colored light sent the violinist hurtling through the night air once again, though this time on a controlled flight.

The lightning bolt crackled and sparked as it passed below her close enough to sheer off the last inch of Octavia’s tail and left the rest of it smoking. The violinist was too busy to notice it, however.

Instead, her bow began to race across the violin’s strings as the song began to end. The bow began to glow, and suddenly a purple blade about half of a foot long made of light sprang from the end of it, turning it into an impromptu spear.

Thunderlane twisted in the air and tried to throw himself out of the flying violinist’s way, but by then she was already below him and coming in fast.

Octavia gripped the bow in one outstretched hoof and slashed in a quick arc along her right side as she passed by the now-frightened pegasus. The blade sunk into Thunderlane’s middle and passed through him with a wet sound before the blade appeared out the other side, trailing a red mist.

With a thump and scattering of loose hay,  Octavia landed on yet another thatched rooftop. The song done, its magic bled away into the open air.

Octavia slumped against the roof and coughed and wheezed for a few moments before regaining her composure.

When she did, she looked up to see a small, jet black crystal slowly floating down towards her, suspended in a small field of magic. It seemed so small to contain what was left of the pegasus that had once been Thunderlane.

It settled lightly on the roof and lay on its side. Octavia stared down at it and her gaze hardened.

The crystal felt light in hooves and was warm to the touch. The surface was, sure enough, opaque, though it seemed to almost glow in the moonlight.

Octavia raised her bow again and played a short, peculiar string of notes that vibrated the air around the violin in a new, blue field of magic. The air rippled and pooled into an oval that vaguely resembled a mirror hanging above the ground.

The surface of the mirror sprang to life, and the image of Princess Luna appeared inside of it. Her eyes widened slightly, but other than that her demeanor remained stoic.

“We trust your mission was a success?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Octavia held up the black crystal for her to see. “Another one. Thunderlane, this time; an old resident of Ponyville, and the one we’ve been tracking since he fell a few years ago.”

Princess Luna sighed. “Most unfortunate. If Thunderlane made it all the way to Trottingham, then the lure has been spreading. We will need to investigate this further.”

Her gaze softened a little. “Did you make it through the fight in good condition?”

Octavia nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? You do have a class to teach in the morning.”

“Don’t I know it,” Octavia said.

The mirror winked away with a departing promise from Princess Luna to give more research to the matter, but Octavia wasn’t listening very well. She popped her back and yawned before picking up her bow once again and placing the violin to her shoulder.

The notes poured out once again in a strange tempo that sent strands of light wrapping around the grey mare and the crystal at her feet. Soon, they encased her in a purple bubble that popped with a flash to reveal a now-empty rooftop and the gentle swaying of the late night wind.