Prison Break

The singular sound of a brittle quill bleeding ink onto rough parchment softly crawled past a scarred, manacled unicorn. The words carved by that quill rebounded through his small rune bound cell and flitted between the cold, iron bars of the prison where it trickled through ethereal cracks in various spells, runes, and traps that maintained his home.

Over time, that unique sound found a way out. It had found a way through the walls and windows, through the bars and chains. It had found a way into the outside world and nobody, not even its creator knew where it would go.

With a final, bloody flourish the iron bound unicorn ceased writing and from outside the entangling chains, past the stout rune-bound bars, over the ancient, rune-etched floors came a sound.

Creeeeeek...Clip...Clip-clop. Clip...Clip-clop...

“You are finished.” A smooth, toneless voice stated. That was not a question. But a brusque statement that made his ears perk up and swivel towards that voice. Still, the statement hung in the air and it required an equal answer.

“Yes.” The unicorn replied, nodding his head, acknowledging the presence.

“Good.”

A cold, icy wind whistled through the cell carrying with it the stained, perverted cries of a thousand winters. A thousand frozen foals, a thousand families born and raised alone, apart from their world.

The silver etched runestones trembled and cracked; shattering, dispelling a thousand years of work in a few seconds and still they were worn down until nothing but a floor of silvery, millennia old dust was left.

Clip...Clip-clop. Clip...Clip-clop.

But the mysterious pony did not stop. It carved a path through the sandy floor, laying bare the smooth, unblemished granite foundations. It glided to the edge of the gilded cell and touched its twisted horn to the padlock dissolving the rusted obstruction in a shower of green, purple, and black sparks. The imprisoned unicorn waited but the cell did not open. Miffed, the mysterious unicorn let out a small, crossed, ‘Humpf.’ And touched its horn to the bars again- ZAP!

And found itself thrown away from the bars, skidding and rolling along the floor until it thudded against the opposite wall. It lay there for a minute, spasming as the electricity worked its way out. After a few minutes the unicorn pulled itself up from the floor, balancing on its three legs, heaving the floor up and around itself as it did so. Gathering the sand and silver into a bubble around itself it then separated them and held them in two suspended luminescent bulbs that shed light over the ceiling. Then, it attacked.

The cold, unfeeling iron bars stood immutable against the unnatural, sandy gale, their golden markings glowing brightly. They repulsed whatever was thrown at them, whether it was sand, silver, or magic, they stood strong; a testament to their creator.

The pony did not cease its attack. It cracked and shattered the smooth granite foundations. The archaic room heaved and buckled, boiled and bubbled, the temperature rose and shifted, the ceiling birthed great heated globs of rotten masonry which hung suspended, spinning in mid air.

And through it all the iron bars stood, unblemished but brightly glowing. The molten globules move forward, leaving iridescent patterns in their wake as they oozed around the sunlit bars. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the barred metal door was encased in glowing, heaving rivulets of magma and gradually a harsh light, glaring brighter than the sun in the afternoon sky, moved through the magma, coursing just under its skin.

Focusing the flow of magic to a singular point, the unicorn’s horn out shone the firewall as she forced all the pressure, all the gravity to merge at a single point. Slowly, regretfully, the lights that flowed throughout the magma stuttered and drew back down into the core, drawing the outer skin of the ball taunt, drawing in all the crushing force, all the latent energy and stripping the bars of their enchantments, of their runes. When all was said and done, on the ground of the former cell door lay an object no bigger than a newborn foal.

The sphere held no light, held no color. Instead it seemed to take in light from its surroundings. Bathing everything in a grey, shadowy texture that seemed to leech any color from the air.

There was no sound, no words spoken between the two unicorns as the chains became encased in a hard white light and fell off. Simply, there was no reason to talk, there was no reason to explain why, and yet, the stallion wanted to know. He had to know.

“Why...Why me?” He struggled to ask, his voice squeaked and cracked from lack of use. He bowed his head in submission and continued to stretch his sore, tired, atrophied muscles.

The cloaked unicorn moved forward, using magic to force his head up so that he was staring into the swirling pitching shadows that made up the pony’s face.

They held their gaze for a few moments. There was a flash from beneath the hood, briefly illuminating a cracked off-white mask then a single piece of parchment floated down between them where it came to rest on the floor. Then the hooded figure turned, flicking him with the barbs on the end of its tail, hard enough to draw blood, and moved off.

He took a step back and bumped into his desk as he stared after her, even as he continued staring even as she passed the orb sitting where the door to his cell used to be, even as she cut her way through the glassed sand dunes and out to the entrance of the hallway, merging with the shadows as she went.

That was her answer. A letter. A piece of parchment with crisp, clean white edges. Rolling script that was easy on the eyes and at the bottom, surrounded by a sea of white, lay a name.

Shining Armor

Author's Note:

Eight out of thirty-one... Twenty-three more fics to go!

I've had this scene sitting floating around my Google Docs for the past few months so I figured I may as well get it out here instead of leaving it unused. Personally I feel rather iffy about it, I don't know why, but something just rubs me the wrong way but for the life of me I can't put my finger on it. Regardless of my personal qualms, I hope whomever read 'Breakout' enjoyed it. Feel free to leave a comment.

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