Chapter 7: On the Town
“And anyway,” the stallion said, his words swaying almost as much as he was, “that’s how I got into studying professional pencil pushing. It’s not much from the outside, but let me tell you….”
“Uh huh,” Eden said, holding her glass and not even bothering to look interested. “That’s great, uh, Apus, was it? Listen, I can hear my friend calling, I’ll be right back….”
“Sure thing, sure thing,” the stallion said, bobbing his head so much he almost fell over. “I’ll be right over here… oh dear, I may have drunk a bit too much…”
His rambling faded away as Eden left the corner the two were in, weaving her way past ponies of varying levels of intoxication. She made her way to the punch bowl, only to find it empty and repurposed as a garbage can. She dropped her cup into it and sighed.
Seven days. It had been one whole week since they had gone to see the pre-Mark exhibit, and although they were acting as if nothing had changed, Eden knew better. Sage had taken to her work with a sort of aggressive normalcy that was nothing short of alarming, and Eden had taken to reading the journal in her room, where the sight of it wouldn’t upset her friend.
And speaking of her friend… Sage was nowhere to be seen. Eden looked around the apartment, clustered with other students mumbling to each other and drinking the cheap punch that their host had provided. A pony was already passed out on the couch, a trail of drool pooling out of his mouth and onto the cushions. Not for the first time, Eden’s thoughts turned to her own apartment. As far as university parties went, this one was rock bottom.
She ought to just leave; Sage was a big mare, she could take care of herself. Eden was not exactly sober herself, but Sage was a tank and wasn’t about to go down at the hands of a party like this. Her mind made up, Eden turned to the door.
When she had almost reached it, a pair of hooves came down over her eyes and a voice whispered, “guess who?”
“Sage,” Eden said. “Where the hay have you been?”
“Kicking it with Danger Doughnut over there,” Sage said, jerking a hoof back over her shoulder to where a plump stallion was holding two drinks and trying to look casual. “I couldn’t stand much more of his high-carb hijinks, so I had to ditch.”
“Wow, you are a mean drunk,” Eden said.
Sage shrugged. “I’m a mean mare, kiddo. I just keep it under wraps most of the time. This party bites anyway, let’s get out of here.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Eden said. “Come on.” She pushed the door open and walked out, Sage right behind her. The door closed behind them and the sudden drop in noise was accompanied by a loss in motion control. Eden swayed on her feet. “Oof,” she said. “Guess I’m drunker than I thought.”
“Lightweight,” Sage scoffed. “I’ll take point.”
The two mares walked out of the apartment complex and onto the street. They were near the Celestial, on one of the cobbled back alleys that housed a number of students. The orange light of Cestel bathed the street. Eden shook her head; for some reason she’d expected it to be darker.
Sage led the way, the ancient houses looming dark on either side of them. They didn’t speak much, now that they were outside. They hadn’t talked much at all lately. Eden wondered what her friend was thinking. Perhaps she was dreading the return home; it meant sleep and more nightmares. Or maybe…
Eden blinked. Sage wasn’t leading them towards the Celestial at all. “Sage,” she said, trotting beside her friend, trying to ignore the buzzing of the alcohol in her head. “Sage, where are we going?”
“Hmm?” Sage said, an air of false confusion on her features.
“You heard me,” Eden said. “I thought you said we were going home.”
“Home? I said nothing of the sort. I said that party was lame, and you agreed.” Sage’s face lit up in a smile. “But I never said anything about calling it a night.”
“Oh no,” Eden said. “Where are we going?”
“Out,” Sage said. “I felt it was time for a night on the town.”
Eden stopped in the middle of the road. “You’re serious,” she said.
“Oh yes,” Sage said. She paused, and looked back at her friend. “I haven’t left this university setting in months. It’s time I hit some of my old haunts again, saw some familiar faces. I could introduce you. Unless you’re already done for the night?”
“You wish,” Eden snorted. She trotted up next to Sage. “Someone’s going to have to keep you out of trouble.”
“Honey, you couldn’t keep me out of trouble if you tried,” Sage said.
“Wanna bet?”
Twenty minutes later, Eden’s bed was seeming more and more like the better choice. The two of them were standing on the side of a street, in Hub City’s East End, facing a lit-up building with a line of red ponies trailing out the side. The street was well-lit; ponies walked up and down it, clutching friends in one hoof and drinks in the other. All of them were red.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Eden said, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.
“What’s the matter?” Sage said. “Scared?”
“Maybe a little. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate that I….”
“That you what?” Sage said. “Go into a club?”
“Go into… that club.”
“Just because there are more red pones than blue ones and you….”
“There aren’t any blue ponies around. Just me.”
“Makes you more interesting that way,” Sage said. “And don’t worry; the owner’s an old friend of mine. You’ll fit right in. Just….”
“What?”
“Follow my lead, okay? Especially on the dance floor.”
Eden sniffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing!” Sage said, trotting across the street. “Nothing at all.”
As they got closer, Eden could hear the sounds of the ponies within, as well as a catchy, jazzy tune. Sage walked right past the line, walking up to a burly-looking stallion that was guarding the door. He looked at her, then at Eden, one eyebrow raised. Sage tapped the ground and said something that Eden didn’t understand. The bouncer snorted, saying something back. Whatever it was, Sage wasn’t impressed. She leaned in, yammering away. Eden thought she caught someone’s name, Rika, but the rest of it was incomprehensible. She made a mental note to toss the book of Camargue phrases she had been studying. Lousy thing wasn’t much help at all.
The bouncer looked at the two of them for a minute longer, then dipped his head. He stepped to the side. Sage said something to him and trotted past, Eden on her heels. “Um, thank you,” she stammered as she walked by.
“Watch yourself in there,” the guard said back in a thick accent.
“Will do. Thanks.” Eden walked past him, doing her best not to scurry.
The inside of the club was dark and hot, lights along the ceiling throwing the single chandelier into sharp relief. They had come out onto a small landing that extended around the entire interior. On the level below was a wooden dance floor, and across from them Eden could see a bar. A stage had been set up by the dance floor. Music was flowing from somewhere.
“Stick with me,” Sage said. “Looks like the band hasn’t gotten started yet. Just warming up. Let’s get something to drink. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Alright,” Eden said, looking around.
Sage led her around the landing to the bar. A rather sour looking pegasus was leaning against it, staring into space. She glanced at the two approaching ponies and did a double take. “Sage!” she said, followed by a string of Camargue.
“It’s good to see you too, Rose,” Sage said. “You mind speaking Sagittarian? My friend here’s not bilingual.”
“If you insist, Sage,” the mare, Rose, said. She was lean and willowy, her wings tucked and bound in the traditional Camargue way. On her front was a blazer and ascot, a square fez on her head. She caught Eden looking and grinned. “Careful, girl. Staring is extra.”
Eden blushed and looked away.
“Go easy on her Rose,” Sage said. “Eden’s out of her comfort zone enough already.”
“Hey, don’t look at me, Ashen,” Rose said, pulling out a bottle of something Eden didn’t recognize and pouring three shots. “She’s the one who was staring.” She pushed two of the glasses across the bar and kept one for herself. “But no hard feelings, see? On the house.”
“You’re going to drink while you work?” Eden said before she could stop herself. Rose’s smile turned sour.
“We’re not like you Sagittarians,” she said. “Business and pleasure? They’re not always separate. Drink.”
Sage caught Eden’s eye and gave her a reassuring nod. “Well, when in Rome…” she muttered, taking the drink and throwing it back. The liquid burned her throat, but the sharpness was replaced almost immediately by a sweet, fruity flavor. “Wow, that’s great! What’s in it?”
“Look, she likes it,” Rose said, the easy smile back on her face. “Told you.”
“It’s called Palinka,” Sage said. “Traditional Camargue fruit alcohol.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s banned,” Rose said. “You Sagittarians said it caused blindness. Don’t worry though,” she said, upon seeing Eden’s face. “It doesn’t. Probably.”
“I’ve had it for years,” Sage said, “and I’m fine, see? Welcome to the club.”
“…charmed.”
“Rose,” Sage said, turning back to the pegasus. “Is Rika around? It’s been a while; I’d like to catch up.”
“As far as I know, Rika’s backstage,” Rose said. A burly stallion wandered up to the bar and tapped it, growling something at her. She poured him a drink and slid it down without even looking away. “She’s making sure the band has everything they need. They’re new, you see.”
“Well, they look promising.”
“Oh, they are. Rumor is, they’ve got an Andalusian playing the drums.”
Sage raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? I’ll have to ask her about it.”
“Sure thing,” Rose said. “I’ll be here when you get back. And, Eden, was it?”
“Yeah?” Eden said, turning back.
“Good to meet you,” Rose said. Eden offered her a nervous smile.
“Likewise,” she said.
“Come on,” Sage said, pulling her away. “The show’s going to start soon, and you haven’t even met Rika yet.” They crossed over to the stairs and began to descend to the main dance floor.
“You two go back?” Eden said, trying to hear over the buzz of the crowd and the music.
“Yeah, we were raised on the same block,” Sage said. “Rika’s… a character. She’ll like you, don’t worry, but it might not seem like that immediately.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll see.”
Sage led her to a door along the side wall marked Employees Only. Behind, the glamour of the club was gone, replaced by bare concrete walls and dim electric torches. Sage navigated through the backstage until the pair came out into the dressing room, where a gaggle of ponies were fussing over the musicians, applying makeup and jabbering at each other like a cluster of hens. Standing away from them was a yellow pegasus with an orange and yellow mane, holding a clipboard and shouting orders. Periodically a pony would creep up next to her and ask something, only to be shouted at and jump back into the fray. Sage strolled up next to her.
“You know,” she said, causing the pony to jump. “I knew you’d gotten big, but I didn’t expect you to be quite so controlling.”
“What the hell do you—“ the pony shouted, turning around. Her eyes locked on Sage and her entire demeanor changed. “Ashen Sage! By Cestel in the sky it’s good to see you. What the hell are you doing out here?”
“I felt like it was too long since you’d had to deal with me,” Sage said. “And I wanted to show my college friend here how we do things back home.”
“You brought some stuffy college kid to my club?” Rika said, looking over Sage’s shoulder to fix her eyes on Eden. “I would have thought even you would….” She trailed off, staring.
Eden’s stomach dropped into her gut. She knew. Rika was looking at her the way Lyra had, or Lightning Dust.
Not now. Please, by Elu not now.
Sage hadn’t noticed. “Hello? Earth to Rika?”
“Huh?” Rika said, looking back at Sage. She shook her head. “Sorry about that, guess I zoned out for a sec.” She looked back at Eden, and now the look of recognition was gone. “Good to meet you, miss…”
“Evenstar Boral,” Eden said. Rika’s eyes widened at the name, but she kept her face blank.
“Evenstar, then,” Rika said. “Unusual name, for a Sagittarian.”
“My parents are creative. “
“Guess so. You keeping this one out of trouble?”
Sage snorted. “As if. Eden’s the straightest arrow I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t believe what it took to get her to drink for the first time.”
“I can imagine,” Rika said.
Sage looked between them for a moment, eyebrow raised. “Have you two… met?”
“What?” Eden said, failing to cover the panicked tone in her voice. “Ha—never! What makes you say that?”
“She just looks like somepony I used to know,” Rika said coolly.
“Huh. Well isn’t that nice,” Sage said. The three of them were silent again before one of the assistant ponies tapped Rika on the shoulder. She turned around, barking out an order. The pony gave a yelp and scampered off. Rika sighed.
“You know,” she said, “it’s so difficult to get good help around here these days. I swear, Sage, I still haven’t been able to find a good replacement for you, and that’s not for lack of trying.”
“You used to work here?” Eden said.
“Yup,” Sage said, scratching the back of her neck. “For a few years, after we were done with secondary school. I was only in it for the money, but Rika here….”
“Don’t be so modest,” Rika said. “If only I had three more like you, or even one like you. Or you.”
“You know that’s not my place,” Sage said.
“True, true,” Rika sighed. “Still, though, just look at these three; they’re a mess!” She gestured to the three musicians who were sitting in front of the mirrors. Two of them were Camargue, but the third was a white pony with a two-toned blue mane. She was reading a paper as a pony mussed her hair.
Rika shook her head. “Artists, this crew. No care at all for appearance, you should have seen them when they first came in. I don’t suppose….” She trailed off, looking at Sage.
Sage sighed. “You know what? Sure. For old times’ sake.”
“What?” Eden said. Sage clapped her on the back. “I’ll be right back,” she said, trotting over to the musicians and barking orders to the crowd. In no time, she had integrated herself into the proceedings, directing the traffic of the stylists and coaxing one of the stallions’ manes into a semblance of order.
“She’s ah, good,” Eden said, trying to think of something to say. “I didn’t know she was a stylist.”
“Listen to me very carefully,” Rika said, her eyes still glued to the scene, “I don’t know how you ponies found her, but if you hurt one hair on Sage’s head, I will make sure that you regret it for the rest of your days.”
Eden gulped. “I don’t know what you think you know about me—“ she said.
“I know enough,” Rika said. “I know you’re watching her.”
“No! I’m not, honest!” Eden said. “I met Sage a few years ago. We were in a class together. We became friends, best friends. I’m not watching her or anything. I don’t even really know what’s going on!”
Rika took her eyes off of where Sage was powdering the Andalusian’s face and looked at Eden. “You must know something,” she said, eyes narrowed. “I could see it in your face. You recognized me.”
“No, I didn’t,” Eden said. “I swear. It’s just… there have been a lot of ponies I’ve met recently who’ve looked at me like that. I’ve never met you before, now or… in any other life, I guess.”
Rika’s eyes narrowed, boring into Eden’s with a level of intensity that the other mare had never seen before. She looked back, trying to broadcast her honesty as much as she could.
Rika sat back. “You’re telling the truth,” she said. “But then that means....” A grin swept over her face. “That means—oh, this is too good—that means that you and her became friends anyway! Ha! Holy cow, Blueblood is going to flip shit when he hears about this! His little bearers, cozying up to the enemy! I can’t even—oh man.” She broke off into a fit of chuckles, wiping an imaginary tear out of her eye.
“I think he already knows,” Eden muttered. “If you’re talking about who I think you are.”
“You met him?” Rika said, her voice suddenly serious. “When?”
“Not him, but someone I think who works with him. Her name is Lightning Dust.”
Rika snorted. “That fool? She was always too arrogant for her own good. I imagine you told her right off for trying to attack or something, didn’t you?”
“You guessed that pretty good,” Eden said.
“Well, I’ve had experience with Lightning Dust before,” Rika said. “But where are my manners? Allow me to reintroduce myself.” She swept into a low bow, the tips of her mane cresting the floor. “In this life, my name is Rika, but you can call me Spitfire, once captain of the Wonderbolts.”
“Wait.” Eden blinked. “Spitfire?” A page from the journal floated back into her memories. “I know you…. Do you know where, um, Rainbow Dash is?”
Spitfire blinked. “I was hoping you could tell me that,” she said. “I’ve searched high and low for her since I woke up, but I haven’t found a thing. I don’t think she’s in the city. You haven’t seen her?”
“I don’t even know who she is,” Eden said. Spitfire grinned.
“Yeah, I guess that would be a bit of a problem,” she said. “Have you met anypony else?”
“A guy named Tweed, Lightning Dust, and a mare named Lyra,” Eden said. Spitfire snorted.
“Quite the crowd,” she said. “I don’t know this Tweed, but Lyra is a hooffull for sure.”
“Something like that,” Eden said. “But otherwise, just you.” She paused, glancing over to where Sage was fussing over the musicians. An earth pony dipped his head through the curtain and said something, pointing at his watch and frowning. Sage nodded and shooed him away. “And Sage, I guess,” Eden said.
“Ah, yes,” Spitfire said. She took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. “She doesn’t remember anything, does she?”
“I don’t think so…” Eden said. “But hay, I don’t remember anything either.” She fixed Spitfire with a curious look. “I’ve got to ask you, though; everyone else I’ve met who’s a part of this has treated Sage with nothing short of contempt; Lightning Dust tried to fight her. I assumed it was a—a color thing, but now….”
Spitfire laughed. “No,” she said, “it’s not that, although you’d be forgiven for thinking so. I don’t hate Sage because she’s my oldest friend. It’s not her fault that there’s a homicidal maniac buried inside her. But if Sunset Shimmer ever wakes up….” She shook her head. “That’s why it can’t happen. I don’t want to lose her.”
“This really worries you,” Eden said.
“What tipped you off?”
“Listen, I guess I haven’t known Sage as long as you have, but I know she’d never hurt another pony. She’s brash, sure, and way too reckless, but she’s a good pony at heart.”
“I know,” Spitfire said. “But you don’t remember what Sunset Shimmer was like. It doesn’t matter how small the chance; she cannot wake up. If she does…” On the other side of the room, the manager pony had returned, snatching the brush out of Sage’s hoof and ushering the ponies to the stage. Sage dropped the rest of her supplies with a huff and began to walk back over. “…We’ll talk later,” Spitfire said. “Just have fun right now.”
“But—“
“Wow, did you see that stallion?” Sage said, shutting up Eden before she could finish her thought. “Rude bastard. I just needed a few more minutes.”
“The show must go on, Sage,” Spitfire said, her accent back in place. “And you two should get out of here. I’m running a respectable institution.”
“Rika, you don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Wanna bet?”
The two of them scowled at each other for a long moment. Sage broke first, a lopsided smile spreading across her face. “Ah, I can’t stay mad at you, Reek. Come on, Eden, let’s get another drink and hit the dance floor.”
“But I thought you said I shouldn’t dance!” Eden yelped as Sage took her hoof.
“Nah,” Sage said, nearly dragging Eden back down the hall. “I said to follow my lead.” Eden got a final glance of Spitfire before Eden pulled her away. The red mare winked at her.
The next half hour was a blur as they returned to Rose’s bar, where Sage laid a twenty on the table and told Rose to keep the drinks coming. By the third shot of Palinka, Eden was feeling warm and happy, but Sage wasn’t done yet. The band had been picking up down below, the sounds of saxophone and bass and drums beating through the club with gusto. And ponies kept flooding in.
Sage pulled her out onto the dance floor and suddenly she was in a mass of bodies. Ponies danced and writhed around her, sweat dripping off them and onto the floor. Lights from above pulsed on the floor, shone red, blue, purple. Sage’s face appeared out of the maelstrom. “I’ll show you how to dance,” her mouth said, and suddenly Eden was lifted up onto her hind legs, her front hooves pressed against Sage’s. “You go two forward, two back, like this.” Their hooves moved to the pattern. Sage pulled her forward and under her arm and back around again. “Like that,” she said, face flushed.
“Not so hard, then,” Eden said, making to dip under and try herself. She slipped on a spilled drink and nearly fell over, but Sage caught her.
“Keep working on it,” Sage said. “Follow my lead.”
They swung back and forth, weaving in and around, close, then far. Her hooves tapped against the ground. A few times, she stepped on someone else’s hoof, but no one seemed to mind. The horns swelled. Sage pulled her in and tossed her in the air. Eden hung for a moment, almost flying, before falling back to the earth. “Not bad,” she said, grinning. “Now it’s my turn.”
The drums picked up tempo as the band moved into the next song. Eden took Sage and spun her around, bolstered above her ability by the alcohol and the infectious feel of the place. She clopped her hooves against the floor, two forward, then back, ducking and dodging between other patrons as the pair spun out into the middle of the floor. Sage smirked. “Let’s change this up,” she said.
Then suddenly she spun out of Eden’s hooves and was replaced by a large, handsome stallion that Eden had never met. He looked at her. She looked at Sage, who had taken up with a stallion of her own. Sage winked, and Eden knew what to do.
“May I have this dance?” she asked the stallion, even though they were already dancing. He grinned at her.
“Please,” he said.
And the two of them were off. The stallion was a much better dancer than she was, so Eden let him lead, winding in and out and through the crowd with abandon. Most of the dance floor had paired up at this point, and those that hadn’t had drifted to the side, eyeing the crowd for partners of their own. Eden and the stallion moved to the middle of the room, twirling with the best of them. Eden caught sight of Sage and her partner, twirling towards them.
“Your partner’s good!” Sage shouted. “I want a try!” Just like that, they switched places, and Sage’s partner went with Eden and vice versa. The new stallion was a bit clumsier, but not by much; he caught Eden’s eye and smiled.
“Allow me,” he said, just as the music broke out into a roaring drum solo. Eden had a flash of the white pony from before banging on the drums with a wicked grin on her face. Then the stallion turned her around again and she was facing the crowd. One song blurred into another into another; she changed partners again and again, stopping briefly only a few times to grab water and check on Sage. Her friend’s grin was even broader, an expression of pure joy. In the weeks to come, Eden would go back to that smile many times.
At last, she broke away from the crowd for good, panting as she leaned against the wall. Sage glanced at her and gave a worried look, but she smiled and waved a hoof, signaling her friend to continue dancing. Sage nodded and turned back to whichever stallion she’d found this time.
Eden realized how thirsty she was. Keeping her balance as best she could, she maneuvered herself back over to the bar, where Rose was still watching the scene with boredom. Her face morphed into an amused expression when Eden sidled up.
“Well, I see someone’s been having a good time,” she said.
“Do you have anything to drink that’s not alcoholic?” Eden panted.
“I’ve got water,” Rose said. “On the house, too.” She filled a cup and passed it across the bar. Eden drank the whole thing in a single gulp and passed it back for more. Rose raised an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t sure about you at first,” she said, refilling the cup, “but I guess I was wrong. Sage wouldn’t have brought a square to a place like this.”
“Just trying to give it my all,” Eden said, taking another swig of water.
“Well,” Rose said, “that’s one way to do it. You’re even giving Sage a run for her money. I don’t think anyone else has been dancing so long.”
Eden looked at her. She figured Rose didn’t know anything out the other stuff, but in her drunk state it wasn’t so easy to tell. She opened her mouth to say something, possibly small talk like So how long have you known Sage, before everything thing went wrong.
A red stallion ran into the club from the hall to the outside. Eden recognized him as the bouncer from before. His face was sticky with something. One eye was swollen shut. He opened his mouth to shout something before a pony in a guard uniform ran in after him and clubbed him on the head.
Eden’s mind felt frozen, slurred. She turned towards Rose, but she hadn’t noticed yet. Most of the crowd hadn’t seen either. Then a pony near the front screamed. The confusion swirled around Eden like she was still in a dance, like if she closed her eyes she would be back on the floor with Sage, or with a stallion or—
“Everybody get down!” The stallion who had clubbed the bouncer shouted. More ponies were streaming into the room, dressed in guard uniforms and brandishing nightsticks. “Everybody get down! I won’t say it again!”
More ponies noticed now. The dancing stopped, heads turned. The music cut off with a rousing squelch, the white pony whaling on the drums a few seconds longer than the other two. Someone else screamed. The crowd began to surge around them, but the ponies weren’t letting anyone out.
“Order!” the stallion shouted. “This is the Hub City Guard! We will have order!”
But the crowd wasn’t having it. They were too wired, too flush with music and drink. A burly stallion went to push his way through the guard. One of the guards raised his nightstick, glaring. The stallion backed off.
“Order, dammit!” the guard shouted. “Where is the owner of this establishment! We just want a word!”
The crowd had stopped pushing, milling instead uncertainly on the dance floor. Eden tried to find Sage in the crowd, but her friend was nowhere to be seen.
“I want to see the owner!” the guard shouted again. “Where is she?”
“Out of my way,” a voice said, and Spitfire pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She saw the guard and her face clouded over. “Orion. What the hell do you want?”
“Ah, Florid Paprika,” the guard, Orion, said. “You never can seem to stay out of trouble.”
“Shove it, stoneface,” Spitfire said.
“Insults will get you nowhere, ma’am,” the guard said.
“Neither will beating up my patrons. What do you want?”
“Your sign outside is off regulation,” the guard said. “Nothing too serious, but when I confronted your bouncer here to inquire as to an inspection, what did I find?”
Eden pushed her way to the railing around the dance floor.
Spitfire said nothing, watching Orion with a guarded expression. The Sagittarian held up a flask. “Palinka,” he said, sniffing the liquid in the flask. “An extremely deadly drink known to cause blindness, stupidity, and rage. Completely illegal, for you people’s own good.” He shook his head. “Hard to help you when you refuse to help yourselves. You’ve been warned, Florid. I’ve been more than lenient with you. I’m afraid I’ll have to shut you down. You’re under arrest for drug trafficking and running an illegal club.”
Spitfire bared her teeth. “You can’t,” she hissed.
“’Fraid I can,” he said. He pushed her aside and addressed the crowd. “Attention reds! From this point on, this property is under the authority of the Hub City Municipal Government! Please exit at once, or you will be charged with trespassing and prosecuted with the full power of the law!”
“Why, you—“ Spitfire said, rocking back. “I’ll—“ she made to shove the guard back, but the moment her hoof touched his uniform, there was a cry.
“Officer under attack!”
Spitfire barely had time to blink before three guards pounced on her, pulling out their clubs and hitting her over and over again. She cried out, shoved one of them off, and used her wings to force the other two away. They flew back and crashed against the wall. But Orion was not to be stopped. He caught her left wing between his arm and shoulder and twisted. Spitfire screamed, and Eden could hear the snap all the way across the room.
“My apologies,” he said, stepping away. Spitfire’s wing was bent at an odd angle, her face slick with sweat. She half stood, half fell against the ground. The two guards that she’d thrown off staggered to their feet. “Stay down, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Go to hell,” Spitfire hissed.
Orion looked at her for a moment, then turned back to the crowd. “Please vacate the premises. This mare needs medical attention, which we can’t call until the perimeter is secure. Do not make this harder than it already is.”
“Or what?” a familiar voice shouted, and Eden felt her stomach drop into her gut. Sage had pushed her way out of the crowd and stood in front of the crowd. “You’ll attack us too?”
“We will do whatever is necessary to defend ourselves,” Orion said. “You are all in violation of the law. Comply now or you will be subdued.”
Sage stood in front of the crowd, facing the guards. Something was wrong. Eden could see it in her eyes. Something stirring.
“Leave,” Sage hissed. “I won’t ask again.”
“You are in no position to make demands, ma’am. This building is in violation, and so are you.”
“Sage,” Spitfire panted, trying to stand. “Don’t—“
“Stay down,” Sage said. “I’ll get you out.”
“You will do no such thing.”
Eden realized she was moving, pressing her way through the crowd, trying to reach her friend. Sage didn’t see her; no one did. She was so close….
“Ma’am, I will ask one more time. We do not want trouble. Please stand down and leave.”
Sage’s eyes narrowed. “Make me.”
“Get her,” the guard barked.
Two guards advanced on Sage. Spitfire, rousing herself, took a leap at one of the guards. The bouncer from before pulled himself to his feet and took a fighting position. The crowd pressed forward, looming in front of the officers.
The guards didn’t get more than ten feet from Sage before a bolt of fire erupted from her horn, slamming into them and driving them back against the wall. The flames roared so hot they were almost white, pinning the two guards down and bathing the wall in fire. The crowd and the guards fell back with a shout. Eden froze. “No….”
The fire died down, and Sage staggered to the side. Everything was frozen. Eden saw Spitfire staring at Sage, face frozen. The two guards, their fur black, slumped to the ground.
“They’ve got weapons!” one of the guards screamed. “Get them!”
The crowd roared. The guards charged. And the entire dance hall erupted into a fight. Eden was shoved to one side, tasted blood, soot. She saw flames. The wall that Sage had hit with the blast was on fire. The guards were retreating back down the passageway, dragging their injured comrades with them. The crowd surged after them.
“Sage!” Eden shouted. “Sage!” She couldn’t see anything. The flames were imprinted on her eyes. She coughed. Someone grabbed her, running with her out of the building. The rough cloth of a uniform scratched against her face.
“I’ve got you, ma’am,” the pony said. She realized it was a guard.
He dropped her on the ground by the side of the building and ran off. She was outside, the red rays of Cestel blurring with the flames from the building. It was truly burning now, smoke flowing from the windows. Ponies streamed out of the front door, spilling out onto the street. Eden watched as several were cornered by guards and subdued. Several were beaten.
“Sage!” she shouted again, pressing into the mass. She couldn’t think. The smoke and the crowd and the alcohol were too much, coming in from every direction, a flow of noise that shut out any attempt to process it. “Sage!”
Then she saw her. Sage was standing in the door, facing the main guard. Her eyes were on fire. Strange red light crackled at her horn. The guard did not seem disturbed. For the first time, Eden realized how tall he was. His mane was cropped short and bleached white. His eyes were green. Shadows licked the ground between them.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice soft yet still carrying over the crowd.
“I’ll do what I want,” Sage said. “And you won’t hurt my friends.”
“I am merely following the law. Please comply or you will be subdued.”
“Bite me.”
The guard grinned, and for a moment his teeth looked sharp as knives. “Since you asked.” He leapt at her, and Eden made her decision.
She raced forward, not knowing what she should do, her mind struggling to keep up with her body. She wanted to leave, to not be here anymore, to go somewhere, anywhere else. She thought of her apartment, the warm bed, her books, the view of the university. A pressure moved from her gut to her horn, and everything began to flash purple.
She dove at Sage just as her horn exploded into a flash of light. Then everything went dark.
They were moving very fast through nowhere, a tangle of limbs and bodies, nonexistent wind ripping through their fur and making her nonexistent eyes tear up. She was accelerating, faster and faster and faster, until she couldn’t stand it anymore and—
The pair rematerialized with a thump, Eden rolling several meters away and crashing into a wall. She lay there, head spinning, breathing short, ragged breaths. Nearby, she could hear Sage groan.
The two of them were frozen for a few minutes before Eden decided she needed to get up. Every part of her body was sore, the pain concentrated in her horn, which throbbed gently. “What the hell—“ she said, staggering to her feet. In the middle of the room, Sage was curled into a ball, her shoulders shaking.
“Sage--?”
“I—I’m okay…” Sage said, staggering to her feet. “I—whoops!” She turned her head to the side and threw up on the carpet. “Wow. That was… unexpected.”
“We need… we need… something,” Eden muttered. “Need to get up.” The room was spinning around her. She wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or whatever had happened. “Where are we….”
They were home. Eden blinked. It didn’t seem possible, yet there they were. They were in the living room. That was her coffee table, complete with the remains of their pre-game hours before. That was her rug that Sage had just threw up on. And… they…
“What on earth?” she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper. “How did we get here?”
Sage stood up, unsteady on her feet. Eden realized with concern that her eyes were unfocused.
“Take… take us back,” she mumbled.
“You think I did this?”
“Yes… take us back. Got to save… Rika. Her club’s on fire. My fault.”
Sage took a few stumbling steps towards the door. Eden chased after her.
“Alright,” she said to herself, “Sage has left the building. Come on, girl. I need to get you to bed. We’ll both have some whopping hangovers tomorrow morning.”
“No… need to get back.”
“You can get back tomorrow. There’s no class. Come on.” Eden laid a hand on Sage’s shoulder and steered her friend towards the bedroom. Sage resisted at first, but she was too far gone to put up a real fight. Some small part of Eden’s mind told her it was the magic, but she didn’t know how she would know that. She led Sage through the kitchen and into the bedroom.
“Come on,” she said, guiding her friend into the bed. “There we go. That’s it. Don’t worry about it; I’ve got you.” She put Sage down and dragged a trash can over next to her. Sage was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Eden looked at her for a moment then closed the door.
She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, which she finished almost immediately and went for another. She leaned against the counter and tried to stop her head from throbbing. “Stop,” she said, tapping her horn. The pain seemed to come from within; she could touch it without making it hurt worse.
A light from the window caught her eye. She could see the view of the university, and beyond that, the whole of Hub City, stretching out towards the horizon, the tops of the houses dyed red in the light. In the distance was a flickering orange blob, a trail of smoke leading off of it and up into the sky. Eden looked at it, a foreboding feeling coiling around her stomach. She needed to go to sleep. She needed to rest, to get the alcohol and the pain out of her system. But for the moment, she could only stare.
What have we started?