//------------------------------//
// No Going Back 
// Story: Freeport Venture: Tears in the Rain 
// by Ponibius 
//------------------------------//

This one snuck out of the Free Companions’ HQ after giving its instructions. Platinum would know how to do things without this one supervising her, though she would no doubt have unhappy words with this one later for climbing out of the bathroom window to get back onto Freeport’s streets, especially when she inevitably learned this one had done so to confront Blackwing. But then many of the same reasons this one had for withholding the truth from the Alya-mare as well as from Platinum. She was a friend, but she couldn’t be trusted with this one’s deepest secrets.

This one silently cursed the world as the wind and rain battered at this one. This one tilted its head against the elements as it trotted towards its destination. Just twenty-four hours ago this one had thought it had a grapple on the situation with its organization. Now everything was spinning out of control, and the only way to put everything right was extreme actions and dangerous risks.

The Alya-mare hadn’t been wrong about how dangerous it was to confront Blackwing. After our last encounter, this one didn’t relish the idea of fighting him one-on-one again. Then there was the fact that this could just be a big ambush, and this one could be walking into the waiting embrace of a dozen dagger-wielding assassins. There was also the outside possibility that it hadn’t even been Blackwing who had sent the message. If that was true...

This one hated playing things so recklessly. This upcoming confrontation was exactly the type of situation this one worked so hard to avoid. Never fight a fair fight—fair fights were just another way of saying you had a fifty-fifty chance of losing, and that was a great way to get killed. Which just made how Blackwing was forcing this one into this confrontation all the more frustrating. This one wanted to control how events proceeded, not the other way. Somehow this one just knew the Do-mare would have had something clever to say to it about how its plans always had a way of going off the rails if she had been here. She was always leaping before looking, often much to this one’s frustration, but she somehow managed to come out on top in the end. This one was just going to have to make sure it was the last one standing, whatever that took. 

Lightning briefly lit the nighttime streets and illuminated Dad’s old office. Whatever the circumstances, this one wasn’t foolish enough to go barging in without scouting out the area first. It walked down a nearby alley and climbed up the wall to crawl along the roof. This one drank a potion to allow it to penetrate any illusions, then started looking for any potential threats. The rain and gloom made it hard to see anything clearly down on the streets, but after watching for a few minutes this one didn’t see anyone. Not that that meant all that much given the circumstances. It wouldn’t be that hard to find a good hiding spot between all the alleys and buildings. This one switched roofs, catching the building from different angles to see if there were any hidden gangs of assassins. This one didn’t spot any, and it didn’t have all night. 

This one crawled down into an alley near the office and then carefully picked its way forward to reach the back door. This one double-checked to make sure its equipment was at the ready, particularly a set of potions useful for escaping a precarious situations. Preparation was everything where survival was concerned, and potions that granted invisibility, turned this one into a floating gas, and a range of other abilities were extremely useful for getting away from dangerous enemies. If this one found an unwinnable situation inside, it was going to run for it, even if it meant  the Vault’s existence might be revealed. If it came to that ... this one would likely have to restart from scratch. Perhaps even run off to another nation and change identities. That idea was unpleasant, but this one couldn't accomplish anything if it was dead.

This one examined the door but didn’t see anything off about it. A quick check confirmed that it was unlocked. This one stood to the side of the doorway and opened the door, letting it swing open as this one hid in cover. Nothing happened. Either whoever was inside was very patient, or there wasn’t anyone inside. Looking around with a mirror, this one didn’t spot anything in the interior of the office. Despite this, this one still carefully stepped inside Dad’s darkened office.

At least this one wasn’t immediately hit with a crossbow bolt. Though this one’s eyes fell on the open latch to the basement. It felt like this one was being herded forward, but there wasn’t much to do other than proceed. This one circled the entrance to the basement, making sure there weren’t any traps or anyone waiting to receive it. Not spotting anyone, this one pulled out an invisibility potion and drank it. 

This one braced itself and then leapt through the hole. This one’s wings buzzed to halt its descent, and it hit the ground in a roll. This one was back to its hooves in a second, ready for a fight. But still nothing happened. Instead, this one was met by an unexpected sight.

The basement now looked like a battlefield. The walls and floor were scorched and sections of the room were now melted, in some cases right through to the foundations of the building. All the furniture was nothing more than unrecognizable splinters. The room couldn’t have looked worse if the Shimmer-mare had come down on the place in a streak of fiery vengeance.

Though what really drew this one’s eye was the hole that now gaped in the wall—a hole that led right into the Vault. The edges of the hole looked like they had been melted by something, and based on the splash patterns and little irregular holes spaced all around the larger hole, it appeared some sort of acid had been used. This one had plenty of experience using acids in the past, so it had a pretty good idea of what it looked in action. Thankfully, the contents of the Vault were undamaged, though this one’s chest started to burn when it saw who was inside.

Blackwing was reclining on a chair, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading a book belonging to the Vault’s collection. He stared right at this one with a wide grin. “Puzzle, good to see you’ve finally arrived. This one was worried you wouldn’t show after all. This one would have been disappointed if the Masks had managed to snatch you up after our little run-in at the Golden Ducat.”

This one wasn’t sure if he was really seeing it or had merely heard this one’s landing and correctly guessed who had arrived. But when this one stepped quietly to the side, Blackwing’s eyes followed it. “Come on, give me some credit. You think this one wouldn’t be ready for one of your favorite tricks? Do you think so little of this one?” This one had doubted it would have been able to get the drop on Blackwing, but it had been worth a shot. This one willed the invisibility magic to fall away and glowered at its former lieutenant. “This one has to admit, it’s somewhat of a surprise to see you here.”

Blackwing made a point of taking his time as he sipped his coffee. “To be fair, you did a good job of hiding this place. If this one didn’t know you so well it might not have suspected you would have a deceit behind a deceit behind a deceit. But then, this one does know you, and it knows you value misdirection.”

“It is a valuable trick,” this one said. “So how did you find this place?” This one wanted to know how he found the Vault, and if anyone else knew about this place.

“Admittedly, this one discovered this place kind of by accident.” Blackwing rolled his shoulders and stood up. “After the Alya-mare and Gustav-gryph started fighting one another, this one spent part of its time poking around Freeport for your saferooms and hidey-holes. You usually had a few nice goodies inside of them. They were good for sleeping in since almost no one else knew about them, and a few of them had some real treats—like whatever this is.”

“So you came to this one’s dad’s old office to see what was here?” this one surmised.

“It was a bit weird that you hadn’t done anything with this place, enough to catch this one’s interest,” Blackwing one agreed. “This one wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re heartless, but you’re not exactly sentimental either. Not when it comes to making use of something. Some people might like the idea of keeping their dad’s old office just as it was when he was working out of nostalgia, but that’s not you. You would want to put good real estate to use somehow. But here this building was, sitting around, doing nothing, and you never talked about it. And we both know that you don’t do anything without a reason, now don’t we?”

“That is pretty astute of you.” This one slowly stepped forward as it watched for any traps. “And so you managed to get into here, and without triggering every alarm and trap this one has set up.”

“This one didn’t say it was easy.” Blackwing buffed a hoof against his armored chest. “This one tripped at least one of your alarms, but from what this one can tell the alarm range extends out to around somewhere in the outer islands. Plenty good most of the time for you, but not when you’re halfway across the world in Northmarch.”

“That was one of the drawbacks of this system,” this one grumbled. “And so that meant you had months to poke around here to your heart’s content.”

“Exactly.” Blackwing’s grin widened. “Though this one had to stop when it saw your death trap room. This one is good, but it knew no good would come out of going in there blind.”

“Though obviously you found an alternative way to get in there.” This one waved an arm at the edges of the hole into the Vault.

Blackwing placed his coffee to the side. “You didn’t exactly make it easy to get in. You had wards for your wards for whatever this place is.”

“And how did you get past the wards?” This one motioned with its head at the devastation that had once been its dad’s storage room. “Clearly they went off, and they wouldn’t all have triggered at once. This one had made sure of that.”

“Brute force, mainly.” Blackwing flashed his fangs. “This one figured out how all the rooms in the basement lined up with the building above, and then it figured out that the wall to this vault here lined up with the wall of the file room there. From there it was a matter of figuring out how to get past the wards without getting blasted into atoms. So this one decided to subcontract the job.”

This one’s eyes narrowed as it got an unsettling feeling about where this was going. “What did you do?”

Blackwing chuckled to himself. “You’d be surprised what you can get the desperate and destitute to do with the promise of some ducats or some cheap booze. Well, maybe you wouldn’t be surprised, but you get the point. This one just hired some homeless people, one at a time, and told them to throw some vials of acid against the wall. Naturally that fell afoul of your wards, hence the mess over there.”

Given the state of the storage room, the first few individuals must have been vaporized. After that ... it was hard to miss the bloodstains on the wall. At some point, some of Blackwing’s victims must have caught onto what he was up to, but it was unlikely he would have let anyone quit once they had come this far. “How many?”

This one’s former lieutenant tsked and shook his head. “What does it matter? They were homeless nobodies. You can’t honestly think anyone will care they’re gone now. People try their hardest not to see them.” There was a flash of something in his eyes, and his grin disappeared. “This one should know. It was among them before you found it.”

The back of this one’s teeth ground together. “And look how you’ve thanked this one for pulling you off the street, giving you a purpose, pay, benefits...”

Blackwing barked out a short laugh. “Come on, you only did that to benefit yourself. This one was your attack dog and nothing more—a mini-you to do your bidding and deal with little problems you didn’t want to waste your time on.”

This one frowned. “That isn’t true. This one wanted you to be the best you you could be. This one saw potential in you, and it wanted to make something of that instead of you being wasted on breaking into warehouses to steal food every night.”

Blackwing fell silent for a moment. “Even if that’s true, this one isn’t going back to being your tool.”

This one wanted to press that point to see what Blackwing’s motives were in all of this, but first it needed to be sure whether Blackwing was the only one to know about the Vault. “So what happened to whoever finally melted their way through the wall?”

“This one gave her a severance package.” Blackwing slowly drew his hoof across his neck. “One look at this place told this one that it had run across something really special, and this one wasn’t inclined to share its find with someone who didn’t even have a clue what she was seeing. She was gaping so hard at everything in here that she didn’t even notice this one coming up behind her.”

This one was mildly horrified that Blackwing had come to so casually disregard the value of life. Was that this one’s fault? Was this callousness always a part of Blackwing’s makeup, or had this one taught him to be like this? True, this one knew that its lessons and philosophy were a long way from being kind, but it was all supposed to be for a purpose. This one sought the best way to handle a task, not the most straightforward and bloody-minded way to get its goals. Some bloodshed was inevitable in the world this one lived in, but Blackwing had gone ahead and dumped buckets of blood to get what he wanted. No, it hadn’t even been that. He didn’t even know what was in the Vault, and still he had killed all those poor, hapless people without batting an eye.

How many people had he killed over the past few months? He didn’t show an ounce of regret for killing the Gustav-gryph, those homeless people, the mercs we’d captured at the restaurant, or anyone else. Was this one responsible for creating a monster? If so, then that made it all the more imperative this one put him down.

“What’s the matter, upset that this one spilled a little bit of blood to keep your—this one’s secret?” Blackwing mocked when this one didn’t immediately answer him. “Though I do have to ask, what is this place? You’ve got all those old books, half of them about changelings, all this old junk, and then the magic items over there. What’s it all for? You might as well let someone in on your secret before this one puts you down.”

This one stepped into the Vault to face him. “This one will tell you its secrets if you tell it yours. After all, only one of us is going to survive this night, right?”

Blackwing’s hoof ran over the hilt of his blade. “True enough. So answer this one’s question, it asked first.”

“Very well.” This one flashed a fang-filled grin. “This one wants to kill a demigod.”

Blackwing’s eyes flicked to the painting of the Old Mind on the wall before he tossed his head back to let out an uproarious laugh. “If this one had known you were up to something that crazy then it might have stuck with you. But this one believes it’s burned a few too many bridges for us to go back to working together by this point.”

“This one tends to take it personally when someone tries to kill me. It’s the type of thing that leaves an impression.” This one briefly considered the idea of taking Blackwing up on that offer, but then dismissed it as a bad idea. He had proven to be immensely untrustworthy, and this one needed his corpse to present to the Council to help pacify them. On top of that, this one needed to keep the Vault a secret. 

“Ah well, too bad.” Blackwing shrugged. “Good news is that I can carry on your work after you’re gone. Consider me your heir if it makes you feel better.”

This one snorted. “This one would rather burn everything down.”

“Is that so?” Blackwing started weaving his way through the Vault’s collection, taking his time to look at every object as he passed them. “After all the work you’ve put into the organization, you’d torch it all just to spite this one?”

“You have no idea what this one is really capable of when it puts its mind to it.”  This one slowly swiped a leg to motion at the contents of the room. “You didn’t know about any of this, now did you?”

“Touché. You’ve always been full of surprises.”

“This one’s turn for a question.” This one started weaving through the Vault so as to circle it opposite of Blackwing. “How long have you worked for Cold?”

Blackwing snorted as he suppressed a laugh. “And here this one thought we’d done a good job of hiding our relationship. How did you figure out that we’re working together? And don’t say it’s because this one just confirmed it. This one will be so disappointed if that is the best you could come up with.”

“Hardly, there’s plenty of proof to point to you two working together, and Cold’s influence. It wasn’t any one thing, but a combination of facts coming together to paint a picture. There was Pyrolash and your agents who got poisoned in the condottieri barracks. Then there was the missing files on the Penny-mare’s kidnapping and the detective in charge of that case just so happening to leave Freeport on a vacation right when this one would need to speak with him. Also, the Alya-mare’s accounts were frozen right as the street war started. All of those things suggest someone with considerable resources and influence was at work.”

“Yeah, but there are plenty of people like that in Freeport,” Blackwing countered.

“True, but the list isn’t that long, and that list gets even shorter when you consider how quickly the killings were done,” this one shot back. “Then this one had to ask why the details of the Penny-mare’s kidnapping were covered up. Cold overplayed his hand when he met with this one. No doubt that smug snake wanted to rub it in this one’s face he was involved, even if he wasn’t going to ever say it straight. Still, it was suspicious how he had intercepted this one’s message to you. Add to that how none of this one’s mail arrived in Freeport, and it’s pretty clear who was behind keeping this one in the dark. Cold certainly has the ability to make that happen. What’s more, he was the one to tell this one who had the Penny-mare. If this one had to guess, he was hoping this one would ... do something it would regret once it found out the full truth of what had happened in its absence. That would go double when this one discovered Cold had bought the Trustworthy, something both to insult this one, and get it riled up.”

Blackwing nodded. “Quite true. Cold was hoping that you’d snap and kill them all. If you killed the Alya-mare then that would have cost you influence within her part of the organization during a critical juncture, leaving the possibility this one could move in and convert her people over to its side as they all worried they might be next on the chopping block. And if you killed the Penny-mare...” He tsked and shook his head. “That would have made it rather difficult to make a deal with the Gustav-gryph, now wouldn’t it? Especially after this one told him about your misdeed.”

“Likely he would have tried to kill this one at the Golden Ducat during our first meeting, and damn the consequences,” this one agreed. “Though this one did no such thing.”

“Nah, must be cold ice in your veins there.” Blackwing’s words became laced with mocking venom. “Or you’ve just grown so weak you can’t bring yourself to kill traitors anymore.”

This one didn’t rise to the verbal jabs. This one was learning too much to close down the conversation with insults. “It’s also worth bearing to mention that Cold has a motivation for destroying this one and its organization. He hates this one to a near self-destructive level.”

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely true,” Blackwing confirmed with a nod. “Most of the time he’s a cold-hearted bastard, but if you want to get him going on a good rant then all you need to do is bring you up. He’s almost on a tear with how hard it’s been to pin you down and get rid of you.”

“Yes, but how to go about that was one of his biggest problems.” This one’s memories churned as it thought of the events of the last few years. “As part of the agreement for this one to return to Freeport and fix the mess the Council had, the Council agreed to Cold having to leave this one alone. That’s kept him from acting openly against this one.” This one eyed Blackwing. “Even if he’s found more subtle ways to act against this one, like acting through proxies like you who can’t be tied back to him.”

“Yeah, the Council telling him to lay off of you has definitely been a sore point for him.”

“Doubly so when this one has been a rival to him as an information broker,” this one agreed. “Cold worked hard to become the Council’s sole source of intel. He took over or ran out any competitors the Masks had in Freeport. And as we both know, knowledge is power. Controlling the flow of information to the Council gave him no small measure of power, and an ability to shape Council policy in a way that benefited him.”

“And then you returned and messed up his monopoly,” Blackwing said. “He doesn’t like that, let this one tell you. Even Cold’s—well, ‘friends’ probably isn’t the right word for his compatriots on the Council. More like a cabal of people whose goals more or less align with one another with a lot of favor trading going on. Point is, even they don’t really trust Cold, much less those on the Council who actively oppose him. And you’re a convenient counterweight to him. Anytime they want to take Cold down a notch, they go to you for intel or to do a job for them, and every task they give to you is a task not given to the Masks. You better believe that burns him on the inside. It’s probably the biggest reason why he recruited this one to take you down.”

“So why did you betray this one?” this one asked. “After all this one has done for you over the years, why side with Cold?”

“Because he gave this one a better deal,” Blackwing said without a trace of shame. “Let’s be honest, you’re not going anywhere anymore. You’re just running some two-bit criminal gang with delusions of grandeur as some information broker.” His head cocked to the side as he looked at a black stone on a pedestal. “Or so this one thought. But burnt bridges and all that. Anyways, the point is that you’ve peaked, and you can’t take this one any higher.”

This one itched to pull out a weapon and kill him right there, but it hadn’t gotten this far without self-control. “So let this one guess, he offered you a position within the Masks, full with opportunities for promotions and a nice benefits package?”

“Not to mention greater challenges. In truth, this one was getting bored in your organization. This one hardly got to do anything really interesting anymore with things running so smoothly, but Cold offered all sorts of things this one could do for him. We’ve even got a new identity for this one ready to go once the mess with the organization is settled and you’re dead and buried.”

“Yes, this one imagines he whispered all sorts of sweet nothings into your ears.” And if this one knew Cold, he was probably going to kill Blackwing at the end of this. Blackwing was a loose end that could track Cold to this big mess, and this one doubted he trusted Blackwing. A changeling that could turn on one master could turn on another, and Cold valued personal loyalty to him more than competence.

“And who knows? This one could become the Mask someday.” Blackwing’s lips spread in an arrogant smirk. “Wouldn’t that be something? This one could achieve what you always wanted. There’s poetry in it, don’t you think?”

“You’re a long way from that point.”

“Is this one?” Blackwing snickered to himself as he glanced up at an old anatomy drawing for a changeling. “Where Cold and his agents failed to nab you at the Golden Ducat, this one found the perfect bait for you and lured you to your death. And when this one brings your head to Cold, he’s going to be oh-so-grateful to it. This one would be surprised if Cold didn’t bring it into his inner circle in thanks.”

“Yes, this one is sure he’ll properly reward you for your betrayal.” Curious about how other events had played out, this one turned the conversation to another topic. “So what did happen within the organization while this one was gone? The Gustav-gryph and the Alya-mare each gave their own contradictory version of events, but both of them de-emphasized your part in events. This one doesn’t think that’s an accident. In fact, given how they both didn’t want to talk about you and the fact that you’re working for Cold, this one would bet you helped manipulate events to proceed as they did.”

Blackwing puffed out his chest to preen. “This one played them both like a fiddle. The plan was simple enough: once you were gone, Cold would play things on his end to make sure you stayed in the dark on what was going on in Freeport while this one went to work. This one worked to undermine the trust between the Alya-mare and the Gustav-gryph while also moving several pieces into place. From there one of two plans would be triggered. The first was that when we got word you were on a ship to return to Freeport, this one would launch a coup within the organization, take over, and then when you returned use the full power of your organization to kill you, thus eliminating opposition to Cold.”

This one surmised the rest. “But instead you went with the second plan. In the event the Alya-mare and the Gustav-gryph turned on one another, you would sit on the sidelines and let them fight. That would let Cold keep his hooves clean of the whole affair, since it would involve third parties fighting one another. Even better, this one’s organization falling into infighting and causing chaos on the streets would embarrass it and destroy its influence with the Council. Sooner or later, the Council would demand the organization be destroyed to bring peace back to the streets, thus giving Cold dominance in the spy business in Freeport.”

“Heh, seems you’re not quite as old and slow as this one thought,” Blackwing mocked. “But that’s all correct. And it wasn’t even that hard to set the other lieutenants at each other’s throats. The Alya-mare was trying to push to make herself first among equals, which set off the Gustav-gryph. Then this one told the Alya-mare, as a concerned and loyal lieutenant naturally, all about the Gustav-gryph and the Penny-mare’s little moonlight affair they were carrying on behind everyone’s backs.”

This one’s eyes narrowed. “You knew about that?”

“Oh yeah, for some time,” Blackwing sneered. “This one decided to keep that little tidbit in its back pocket to use later. And oh boy, did it become useful both against you and with the Alya-mare. Learning the Gustav-gryph was secretly banging your secretary is all it took to start to erode her confidence in the Gustav-gryph’s true loyalty. It also helped when this one said it would back her if she decided to crack the whip and bring the Gustav-gryph back in line or ... if more extreme measures were needed should he prove to be as disloyal as we feared.”

This one snorted derisively. “And no doubt you were telling the Gustav-gryph something similar.”

Blackwing nodded. “Naturally. The Gustav-gryph didn’t like the Alya-mare trying to tell him how to do his business, and this one whispered to him how the Alya-mare might have grander designs on the organization than merely counting its coins. And then when he pushed back against the Alya-mare, she went and threatened to hire as many mercs as it took to take him down if he didn’t start toeing the line. You can imagine how much he liked that. Then all it took was for this one to tell him that the Alya-mare was meeting with merc companies and drawing up contracts with them. That got the boulder rolling downhill.”

This one rubbed its chin as all the pieces started to fall into place. “So the Gustav-gryph attempted his pre-emptive ambush on the Alya-mare, but then you went and told her what he was up to. Thus letting her escape the net and kicked off the street war.”

“Exactly,” Blackwing confirmed. “It was a simple matter for Cold to use his influence to shut down the Alya-mare’s bank accounts and prevent her from hiring the mercenaries that would have let her overwhelm the Gustav-gryph. From there this one sat back and launched an attack here and there to make sure each side stayed in perpetual stalemate with one another.”

“And after a number of months, this one returned to Freeport,” this one observed. 

“That pretty much sums it up,” Blackwing agreed. “Anything else this one needs to clear up before it kills you?”

“Just one more thing this one wants to confirm.” This one looked him in the eyes. “It was the Alya-mare who told you the time and place of its meeting with the Gustav-gryph, wasn’t it?”

Blackwing’s smile was positively malicious. “Figures you would figure that out. What tipped you off?”

“The fact that only a hooffull of people knew about the meeting, and only the Alya-mare had the motive to tell you,” this one said. “True, there might have been a leak somewhere, but this one had a feeling it was the Alya-mare. We have been having ... disagreements with one another.”

“More like she thinks you’re making a bunch of big mistakes,” Blackwing said none-too-subtly. “They and this one got her really riled up over the Gustav-gryph. She really wanted him dead. So the two of us come up with a deal: she’d tell this one where the meeting was, and this one would kill the Gustav-gryph.”

This one frowned as it considered the facts. So the Alya-mare had betrayed this one’s trust. Good thing this one had made plans where she was concerned before coming here. “So she planned on this one going down for the Gustav-gryph’s murder?”

Blackwing shook his head. “Nah, this one doesn’t think she thought the Council would come down on you for something it did, especially when this one pretended to be you. But then that plan was intended to push the Council against you by spreading chaos more than anything else. That and Cold hoped to snap you up.”

“This one’s surprised you didn’t take a shot at it.” This one eyed the little hoof crossbow at his side.

Blackwing shrugged. “It was tempting, but nah. We were all pretty sure you were carrying some magical trinket that’d keep that from working. This one remembered how you had one on you when that assassin shot you right outside your office a couple years ago.”

“Yeah, this one was wearing something to prevent it from getting killed like the Gustav-gryph.” Considering how many people had taken literal shots at this one over the years, it’d been prudent to buy some magic items to make it less likely some assassin would be able to snipe this one at random. 

“Figures.” Blackwing’s hoof trailed to the hilt of his sword. “But this one is getting tired of talking. Are we going to fight, or are you trying to bore this one to death?”

“No, we’re going to fight.” This one raised a hoof to stop Blackwing mid-drawing of his weapon. “But not here. This one doesn’t want to risk anything here being damaged during the fight.”

Blackwing frowned as he kept a hoof on his sword. “This better not be some kind of trick. You try something tricky, and the first thing this one is going to do is run to Cold and tell him what you have here.”

This one shook its head. “No trick. But this one does have a better location in mind where we can fight in private.”

Blackwing thought the idea over. “And where is this?”

“The Torch Amphitheater.”







The Torch Amphitheater was intended to be an area sitting along Freeport’s waterfront to feature a variety of sports and other forms of entertainment for thousands of people at a time. The old amphitheater at the waterfront was showing its age, with wear and tear and the passage of time taking its toll on the building to the point where it was starting to become an embarrassment. As such, the Council had commissioned the new building to serve Freeport’s entertainment needs, increase prestige, and to help pump money into the area.

Unfortunately, the building project had gone so hideously over budget and behind schedule that it became a major scandal for the Council and the companies involved in its construction. The Council had been forced to shut down construction pending investigation, and that was when at least a couple members of the Council were intimately involved in the construction and making oodles of money on the public coffer. But then the likes of Silver Cane probably couldn’t help but use such cheap building materials that the structure was breaking down mid-construction of the amphitheater. Silver seemed to be of the opinion that any ducat that was in someone else’s bit purse should belong to her.

In any event, construction was on hold until an investigation could be completed. Though the ‘investigation’ consisted more of everyone involved being locked in a bidding war to bribe their way out of being the goat that would inevitably be scaped to pacify the masses for the embarrassment. From the bits and pieces this one had gotten through the grapevine, the amphitheater had been so shoddily built that it was probably going to need to be plowed over and then rebuilt from scratch—all at considerable public expense and the detriment of the waterfront.

Blackwing and this one snuck into the half-built amphitheater. We walked past stone ready to be placed, as well as a multitude of tools, wheelbarrows, timber, and other materials, all lying about the place in a discarded manner as though construction had been interrupted mid-shift. Only about three-quarters of the amphitheater’s ring had been built, and the stands were in various states of construction. The northern quarter of the amphitheater was the most complete section of the structure, but that fact was badly marred by a large part of that quarter having collapsed in on itself. That collapse had killed several construction workers, and that event had been the final straw to bring further construction to a screeching halt.

Just another sign of the corruption that went right to the heart of Freeport. Well, there was at least one good part about this failed construction project: no one was here to bother us for what we were about to do.

Once we were in the center of the amphitheater’s floor, this one turned to Blackwing. The rain and wind lashed at us as lightning crashed above us, and the sandy floor had been turned into a morass interspaced by pools of water that slowly filtered water to open holes in the floor. The cold rain stole the warmth from this one, and threatened to penetrate to its core. “This one trusts this will serve as our battlefield?”

Blackwing head slowly turned as he took in our surroundings. He was probably checking if there was a trap anywhere nearby. Unfortunately there wasn’t, and he nodded. “A suitable dramatic battleground.”

“We shouldn't get interrupted.” This one unclasped its soaked cloak and let it fall to the ground. Its soggy weight would only slow this one down at this juncture, and this one would need to be able to move fast to beat Blackwing. “No work has been done here in months, and the storm should have driven nearly anyone else indoors.”

“Good.” Blackwing rolled his neck as he limbered up. “This one would hate to have an interruption when it’s this close to being done with you. Besides, this one’s been looking forward to this fight since our last one. It’s so rare this one gets a real challenge.”

“You're way too confident.” This one pulled out a potion and downed it.

Blackwing unsheathed his sword, and its blade reflected the streaks of lightning that danced in the sky. “Why shouldn't this one be confident when it's going to win?”

This one pulled out another potion to drink. “You see Blackwing, up until now this one has been protecting you.”

Blackwing snorted derisively. “Protecting this one? This one doubts that.”

“Oh yes, you might not see it that way, but it's true.” This one downed the potion before continuing. “This one was always careful about what sort of missions and assignments it gave you. This one does so hate to waste useful things, and that included you. So this one made sure to never send you into anything that would get you in over your head, and always stacked the deck in your favor. But now? Now you need to die.”

Blackwing frowned as he took a couple of practice swings of his blade. “Do you really think whatever you're drinking will give you an edge?”

“That is the idea.” This one drank another potion, adding it to the range of magical mixtures intended to increase its speed, strength, endurance and a range of other minor but significant effects. “Admittedly, you put this one on the defensive by finding the Vault. That doesn't happen often, but this one has experience in pulling victory from the jaws of defeat.”

“It won't be enough.” Blackwing smirked. “You’ve underestimated this one, and it’s going to make you pay for that. This one is going to kill you, and then everyone else who stands in its way.”

“You’re going to find that’s a very long list if you play things that way,” this one cautioned. “In this one's experience, there's always more enemies. The more you kill, the more you make, and the more everyone else sees you as a threat.”

“We'll see.” Blackwing shrugged, and some of his cocksure attitude fell to the side. “It's a pity, we had some good times together, but now the only way upwards is by going over you. This one would offer to let you work for me, but it knows you'd never do that for real.”

This one unsheathed one of its daggers. “You couldn't lead this one anywhere it couldn't go by itself.”

“That's true. Shame Freeport's only big enough for one of us now.” Blackwing raised his sword to strike as his body shifted into a fighting stance. “But enough about this one, let's kill you.”

“You can try.” This one transformed its forelegs into gryphon arms to let it better grip its weapons. The time to talk had come to an end. This one’s organization had been shattered, and now it was stuck in a fight for its life against the lieutenant that had aided its rival in fracturing the organization. Only one of us could be allowed to walk away from this fight. 

“This one always prefers to do, not just try.” Blackwing’s hoof blurred as he pulled out and threw a dagger in one fluid motion. This one dodged to the side, and the dagger whiffed past its head. This one replied by throwing a trio of darts in quick succession with its telekinesis. Blackwing contorted his body to twist out of the way of two of the darts while using an armored foreleg to knock aside the third one.

“Second on the draw,” he said with a smirk. “Slow as ever, Puzzle.”

“The final blow is far more important than the first.” To emphasize this one’s point, it tossed a firegem at its traitorous lieutenant. Blackwing immediately flew up into the air and rushed this one. The firegem exploded behind him, its power somewhat muted by the rain and mud of the amphitheater floor, and he was on this one in a moment. Blackwing feinted a high stab before coming in low. This one’s dagger parried the blow to the side, and it pulled out another dagger with its free arm to slash at Blackwing’s neck. He jerked to the side to dodge the attack. 

Blackwing’s hooves landed in the muck, and he skidded for several steps before arresting his momentum. Before he could properly turn and regain the initiative, this one charged him. A dagger knocked his sword to the side, and this one aimed the tip of its other dagger under his jaw. With silent command, the dagger’s blade shot up as it extended to the length of a longsword. But Blackwing saw the attack coming and jerked his head to the side just in time to avoid being impaled. Our blades flashed as they met in a series of feints, stabs, and slashes.

This one stabbed several times in quick succession at his head and neck, but Blackwing efficiently moved his blade side to side to turn the blows aside. Then he exploded forward, ramming his shoulder into this one’s cheek to knock it back a step. His sword slashed in a horizontal slice intended to take this one’s head, but it got its blades up in time to catch the blade. This one turned its dagger and sword to force Blackwing’s sword down, and while holding his blade down with its sword, slashed at his vulnerable neck with the dagger. But he got a leg up, and a clash of steel resounded as his bracer blocked the dagger.

We struggled in a grapple with one another, unable to easily disengage without giving the initiative to our opponent. “Do you think this one doesn’t know all your tricks, old bug?!” 

Before this one could reply, Blackwing’s forelegs transformed into talons. He turned his arm to grab this one’s dagger arm by the wrist. He twisted this one’s arm, forcing it to drop the dagger. Sensing it was in trouble, this one let go of its sword and rammed its now free fist into his sternum. Blackwing let out a hack as some of the air was blown out of his lungs, and his grip on this one’s wrist weakened.

This one knocked one of his legs out from under him, and then tossed him down into the mud. Blackwing’s sword flashed up at this one as he hit the ground, but the blow lacked strength, and only stung this one as the steel glanced off the armor covering its shoulder. This one drew a fresh dagger and stabbed it down, aiming for a hole in his armor. Quick as lightning, Blackwing rolled to the side right before the dagger would’ve skewered him. He kept rolling away from this one until he adroitly got back to his hooves. 

Blackwing held his sword between us, grinning with enjoyment. “Not bad, but you're already slowing down.”

“Quite the contrary, this one is just getting warmed up.” This one got two daggers in its talons and charged him. Blackwing slashed his blade, but this one parried his sword to the side. He kept backing up, trying to keep this one within the range of his sword, but out of where this one could stab into him with its daggers. But this one kept at him, striking at his blade repeatedly to knock it to the side to allow it to step closer and closer. This one grinned as it kept track of our surroundings. Blackwing was so intent on this one he wasn’t paying close enough attention to where he was falling back to. With an aggressive step forward, this one forced Blackwing back, but one of his rear legs slammed into a wheelbarrow with a loud clang. He stumbled a step as the wheelbarrow fell to the mud with a screech.

Seeing an invaluable opening as Blackwing was temporarily imbalanced, this one didn’t waste a second before it levitated out two more daggers and stabbed with all four of its weapons. But instead of trying to fall back or block, Blackwing bolted forward with a snarl. He parried one dagger, one missed, and he took the other two on his armor. Then he headbutted this one with his armored helm. This one’s vision flashed and the blow rocked its head back. This one stumbled, nearly losing its hoofing completely as it slid in the mud.

Why must people always headbutt this one? Did everyone want to give themselves brain damage from concussions?

But Blackwing was only stunned for a moment before he went back on the attack. Needing some breathing room, this one snapped out a smokebottle and threw it into Blackwing’s chest. Grey smoke exploded out from the shattered glass, and this one threw itself to the side in a roll. This one became caked in mud as it rolled back to its hooves. It ran and jumped over a nearby stack of bricks to land behind it. This one then pulled out another firegem and threw it into the smoke. The explosion blew the smoke away, revealing that Blackwing wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Did you think this one wouldn't see that coming?” Blackwing said from behind this one.

This one’s heart skipped a beat, and it spun as it got back to its hooves, but Blackwing wasn’t there. The next indicator this one got was when it heard the twang of a crossbow. A heartbeat later a flash of pain shot out from a bolt striking this one’s flank.

Off to the side, Blackwing smirked from behind a pile of rotting lumber. A small bolt was now sticking out of this one’s side. It wasn’t in deep, thankfully, but it was painful, and this one would bet it was poisoned. Blackwing must have used a ventriloquism spell to make this one think he was behind it, and this one had fallen for it. If it hadn’t been for this one’s armor then that might very well have been the end right there.

“You're past your prime.” Blackwing dropped the crossbow and brought his sword up. “Just give up, and I'll make it quick.”

“Sorry, but this one has an absolutely terrible stubborn streak,” this one grunted through the pain. 

Blackwing hopped over the lumber pile, but this one was already pulling out the wand it’d taken from Ephemera. Green lightning fired from its tip, and Blackwing failed to dodge out of the way. The bolt struck his side and staggered him, but failed to do any damage as a magical charm around his neck cracked in half. This one fired again, running to keep the distance between us as it ran for the space under the amphitheater stands. Blackwing ducked behind a half-finished column that absorbed the shot. This one tossed a firegem to try and flush him out. It exploded, blowing away the column, but Blackwing was already climbing up through a hole into the upper reaches of the amphitheater.

Blackwing tossed down a couple of bottles through the hole. They shattered on the ground and a familiar nauseous green gas filled the space. Thankfully, this one had taken a potion to prevent the gas from significantly affecting this one like it had during our last fight, even if the smell was still absolutely horrible. Not wanting to stick around, this one ran through the green smokers to emerge back into fresh air. Good thing too, for not a second later the whole cloud burst into fire, its flames strong enough to sting this one as it fled. 

This one ran and then slid behind a pile of bags of concrete and took stock of the situation. Blackwing was nowhere to be seen. Not good. That meant he was probably hiding somewhere. Either this one had spooked him, he had lost sight of this one and was stalking around trying to find it, or the bolt sticking out of this one’s side was indeed poisoned and he was merely waiting for it to do its insidious work. This one didn’t take a chance and drank a potion that should counteract most poisons. If that didn’t work ... no sense worrying about it. Either this one would survive or it wouldn’t. Best just to concentrate on what it could do to keep breathing.

This one examined the bolt wound it had suffered. As it originally guessed, the bolt had punched through this one’s carapace, but it hadn’t gone so deep as to puncture a lung. This one didn’t like the idea of pulling the bolt out, but fighting Blackwing with it sticking out of it was an even worse idea.

Before this one could do anything, Blackwing’s voice echoed through the amphitheater. “You've already lost, Puzzle! Give up and this one will make it quick!”

Hoping to keep him talking while this one treated its wound, this one cast its own ventriloquism spell to throw its voice. “Last this one checked, the fight wasn't over.”

Checking first to make Blackwing wasn’t sneaking up on it, this one bit down on the hilt of one of its daggers. Then with a tug of it’s telekinesis, it yanked the bolt out. It was a struggle not to scream, but pain was something this one was far too familiar with, and so it kept itself from making too much noise.

Blackwing’s voice echoed through the building, its sound difficult to determine. “You've gotten weak and soft, ever since you started rutting that Equestrian spy.”

This one forced down the anger rising up in it. He was merely trying to provoke it into making a mistake, but this one needed more time before it would be ready for round two of our fight. So this one kept talking. “You're mistaking kindness for weakness. Kindness is the purview of the strong, not to mention it has its advantages. For one, this one is having a great time with the Heartstrings-mare.”

This one didn’t waste any time and placed a bandage on the wound as it talked. It would have been preferable to stitch up that kind of wound, but this one didn’t have the luxury of time. Though Blackwing was giving this one precious seconds as his ventriloquism spell continued echoing through the amphitheater. “This one is curious, did you ever manage to get a taste of that hot little magus of yours before Blackfyre ripped her to pieces?”

Now he was just getting nasty. While this one liked the Shimmer-mare, this one was reasonably sure she didn’t have any kind of feelings like those towards it. Besides, this one was with the Heartstrings-mare. Though the comment about Blackfyre hit closer to home that it liked, even if it did remind this one of another reason why it needed to win this fight.

“How about you ask her if you kill this one. This one is sure she'll give you a decisive answer.” This one downed a pair of potions intended to deal with the pain and heal it. 

“Maybe she'll be so happy to get a real mate she'll forget all about you!” Blackwing cried out. “Or did you have to shift into a mare to get any attention from her?”

This one slowly moved out from behind its cover. This one climbed up a wall and through a hole to get into the stands themselves. It slowly moved from cover to cover, watching for any movement around it as it kept talking, and this time it sought to turn the conversation around.

“Really, are jabs about this one’s sex life the best you can come up with? Do you think this one is some insecure hotheaded male or vainglorious idiot whose pride is so wounded by a few words? That’s pathetic if you think that will work on this one.” This one added a sneer to its next few words. “Besides, you’re one to talk. This one isn't confident you've ever even pleased a mate. This one didn't teach you anything like that, and all you know is what this one taught you.”

Blackwing snarled, and this one detected a hint of wounded pride. He had his talents, but being able to seduce others wasn’t one of them. “At least this one doesn’t have to pay for its food!”

This one got to a good vantage point when it climbed into where a spectator’s box would have been. This one chuckled mockingly to get under Blackwing’s carapace. “And you would still be hungry on the street if not for this one. See, this one earned everything it has. Everything you have this one gave to you. You would be nothing without it. Nothing. You wouldn't even have drawn Cold's attention if not for this one.”

“No one will care who you are after I kill you!” Blackwing all but screamed, his composure starting to break as his pride was repeatedly wounded.

“The same applies to you,” this one countered. “You see, even if you manage to kill this one, you’re as good as dead. Cold’s going to kill you once you’re done here. As soon as this one’s dead, you become an inconvenience. You know everything that’s happened with this one’s organization, making you a loose end, and Cold knows how to deal with loose ends. The condottieri barracks’ morgue is full of loose ends right now.”

“If Cold betrays this one then it’ll just have to out-betray him!” Blackwing’s voice wasn’t as steady as it was. This one wondered if Blackwing had even fully considered the idea that he might be disposable. “Besides, Cold's just the next stepping stone on my path, and he'll get the same as you soon enough!”

This one examined the stands, but nothing stood out. It didn’t help how the rain was making it all the harder to see or hear anything. So this one kept prodding Blackwing. “Please, chances are he's already decided how to dispose of you. He’s been playing this game a lot longer than you have, after all. To him, you're like a piece of toilet paper, something to be used and then thrown away. And your use to him is about at an end.”

“No he won’t! This one will replace him. Maybe this one will even get a Council Mask!”

This one couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “You think the Council would ever make you one of their own?”

“Once this one is the master of Freeport's streets? Yes.”

This one shook its head as a wealth of problems with the idea came to it. “You don't even like running your part of this one's organization: you find administration, meetings, and the day-to-day work of running an organization boring and beneath you. Ruling the streets would drive you insane, much less sitting on Council meetings talking about tax codes and districting policies.”

There was a hint of hesitation in his voice. “This one can delegate the boring parts.”

“That’s not how it works. You play the game like that, and those little boring parts are going to eat you alive.” This one ratcheted up the pressure by going for the jugular. “You're a disgrace. You're nothing more than a two bit thug who just so happens to have above average combat skills. You've got no vision, no unique spark, nothing to really set you apart from the rabble that this one didn't give you. You don't deserve to inherit what this one has built. You know what’s going to happen to you? You're going to die the same way you were born—as nothing. You'll die unmourned, without anyone giving a damn about who you were.”

A firegem flew at the section of the stands where this one had been projecting its voice. Stone and timber flew in every direction, but this one was concentrating on where the firegem had flown from. It was hard to see him, but he was sulking about among the patchwork of seats. This one couldn’t help but grin at the fact it had gotten him to expose himself. This one could imagine the fury on his face right then, and there was some stomping to the way he stalked around the arena.

This one tossed a thunderflash stone at a high angle so that it flew up and over Blackwing and landed on the far side of him. The explosion of light and sound caused him to spin to face the wrong direction. This one lept forward and took flight, flying forward as fast as it could. The rain and wind whipped at this one as it dove towards its target, and it pulled out and extended one of its daggers to its full length. Blackwing sensed the danger and spun around to face this one, but too late to get out of the way.

This one slashed with its sword, and Blackwing did his best to turn out of the way, but the blade still slashed him across the chest. His armor took the worst of the damage, but this one wasn’t done. This one used the forward momentum it had built up to slam its shoulder right into Blackwing’s side. The hit flung him back and he smacked right into the guardrail intended to keep guests from falling into the amphitheater pit. But the railing proved as shoddily constructed as the rest of the structure, and the bolts holding the railing snapped, sending Blackwing careening over the side. He failed to get his wings under him, and he smacked into the muddy ground below.

Sensing victory, this one jumped down and dove, its sword extended for the kill. Blackwing turned and his eyes widened. He grasped for his sword, but it had fallen out of leg’s length. This one closed the distance and stabbed down right at his chest. But instead of this one’s blade puncturing his breast, Blackwing rolled to the side at the last moment. This one’s sword skipped along the side of his armor, throwing off sparks until it drove into the mud. Before this one could recover, Blackwing rolled back around as quick as lightning and he drove a dagger through this one’s armor and into the side of its gut.

White hot pain shot through this one, and it stumbled back in pain while it instinctively clutched at the wound. Dots flashed over this one’s vision, and it was all this one could do to keep from collapsing and blacking out in the mud. A corner of this one’s mind realized that it had dropped its sword. This was bad, really bad. 

Blackwing grinned with self-satisfaction as this one struggled to even stand. “It’s all over now. You can’t fight with a wound like that.” He slowly stood and rolled his shoulders and neck, the fall having taken its toll on him. “No amount of fast talking is going to get you out of this.”

He smirked as this one briefly staggered in place and continued to hold its wound. “Well, it was fun, Puzzle. But it looks like it's time to wrap this up.” He walked to where his sword was lying in the mud. “Don’t worry, this one will take care of everything when you’re gone. Like you said, Cold might betray this one, so it better get on top of that before he tries something. If it makes you feel better as you die, this one might tell Cold that you send your regards as it kills him. That’ll play with his head during his final moments, won’t it? This one will also have to deal with the Alya-mare, and the Penny-mare to make it a clean sweep. And best to kill the Shimmer-mare and your Equestrian whore too, for that matter. They’ll wonder what happened to you. So this—“

Blackwing bent down in order to pick up his sword laxidazily—an opening! This one forced the pain aside and charged him while pulling out its last dagger. He blinked as this one exploded into motion. He snatched up his sword, but his hurried attempts to get into a fight stance resulted in him slipping in the mud. His hooves moved back and forth as he tried to regain his balance.

This one used its telekinesis to toss a ball of mud right into his face. Blackwing cried out in surprise and he took a blind swing at this one. This one turned the blow aside with its shock bracer. This one brought up the dagger and stabbed down with everything it had. The dagger slammed home at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, slipping between the gap there in his armor.

Blackwing jerked in mix of surprise and pain. He instinctively tried to pull away, but this one tightened its grip on the dagger and held him firm. His eyes were wide with disbelief, and this one leaned in so that he could hear this one speak. “You should have gone for the kill instead of fooling around.”

This one sent a burst of will into the dagger, and it extended to its full length inside of Blackwing. The blade punched down at an angle and punctured the armor around his barrel, and the sharpened steel dripped with his green blood. Blackwing stumbled back before slipping in the mud and falling to the ground. 

He stared up at this one with his stupefied, wide-eyed look. “You ... You...”

This one breathed heavily as it clutched at its wound. “You stopped to celebrate right before you crossed the goal line, Blackwing. You were this close to winning, but—” This one grunted as a flash of pain shot through this one. “A wound like this won’t kill this one for hours. Your wound will be killing you much faster. Never stop, never give up, right up to the end. That’s why this one is going to live, and you’re going to die.”

Blackwing’s mouth worked wordlessly, whether because he was too weak to make himself actually speak or he was too stunned to say anything coherent, this one could only guess. The life drained out of him, and soon he was still, his eyes now glassy stars of the dead. He was left with a perpetually confused, wide-eyed pondering look on his face. He probably didn't even understand what was going on right up into death.

After making sure he wasn’t going to get up again, this one slowly shambled to try and find someplace dry. Every step sent a jolt of pain through this one’s body, and it was all it could do to keep putting one hoof in front of the other. The rain and wind continued to lash against this one, and this one nearly lost its footing several times as it struggled forward. After what felt like a small eternity, this one managed to make its way within the amphitheater and found a reasonably dry stone to sit down on. Doing so sent another shock of pain that nearly made this one vomit, and this one clutched at its wound.

This one reached with shaking and bloodied hooves, and cursed as it couldn’t help but fumble with the small pouch it was trying to pull open. Eventually, this one managed what should have been a simple task and pulled out a gem. This one crushed it between its hooves, activating its magic. Platinum should be notified where this one was, and with luck the Free Companions would find this one before it succumbed to the gut wound.

Little else to be done, this one leaned back, and tried to make itself as comfortable as it could while pressing a bandage to its wound. This one turned its thoughts to the past few days as it tried to stay awake despite the exhaustion and pain.

What a waste. Everything about what had happened to this one’s organization was a disaster. Two of its lieutenants were dead and the third was completely untrustworthy. All of them were talented in their own ways, and then it had all fallen apart over a few months. Great harm had been done to the organization, both physically and in its reputation. But by sunrise it would all be over.

Not that this one could consider this a victory. A pyrrhic victory, that’s what this was. This one had survived, maybe, if it got to a hospital fast enough. But many of the organization's assets had been destroyed, and skilled personnel were gone or soon would be. The Gustav-gryph and the Alya-mare had been played like fiddles by Blackwing, and torn the organization to bits between them. Now it was up to this one to pick up the pieces.

Damn Cold, this one was going to kill him for this, someday. If this one survived its wound. This one could well imagine Cold laughing if Blackwing and this one ended up mutually killing each other. All he would need to do was silence the Penny-mare and the Alya-mare, simple enough a task for him with the organization now all but shattered, and he’d have a clean sweep of the whole affair. This one needed to live, to spite Cold if nothing else.

And that wouldn’t be it, not if this one had anything to say about it. One day, Cold was going to pay for this: with his life. This one was going to rebuild, and this time do a better job of it. Then one day this one was going to take Cold to task for everything he had done. This whole affair had made it quite clear that the two of us couldn’t co-exist in peace, and this one wasn’t going anywhere. First step was that—

A splash in a nearby puddle snapped this one out of its thoughts. This one’s heart clenched when it saw hoofprints in the mud, and more were being made in its direction. This one moved to stand but a flash of pain caused its whole body to seize up and forced it back down. The adrenaline from the fight with Blackwing had long worn off, and the dagger sticking out of its guts made it impossible to move.

Whoever was trying to sneak up on this one saw that this one had noticed them, and their steps quickened into a run. Changing tactics, this one used its telekinesis to pull out a potion that would turn this one into a gaseous cloud and allow it to escape. But grabbing and pulling out the potion’s stopper proved unusually slow, between pain and fatigue, it was hard to concentrate even on such a simple spell. The bottle reached this one’s lips when its invisible assailant slapped it away. The potion flew to the side and smashed against a nearby pillar.

This one reached for a dagger, but found nothing there. Damnit, this one forgot it had already used that dagger. Time ran out, and this one’s assailant grabbed this one by the foreleg and twisted it painfully to hold this one in place. Another shock of pain ran through this one as its body was abused.

This one repaid him for the unkindness for blasting him with its shock bracer. His cry became a gurgle as the electricity ran through him, but he kept a tight hold on this one despite the fact he should have been flash-fried from that attack. He must have had some sort of protection from the electricity. Had he come prepared for this one?

The situation only got worse as someone else grabbed this one’s other foreleg, and locked it behind this one’s back. The pain from being pinned in place nearly caused this one to black out from pain.

The invisibility on this one’s assailants dissipated, revealing a pair of heavily armored zebras. True Heirs, this one realized as it recognized the badges and other decorations on their armor. But why were the True Heirs here? Had Cold hired them? Were they here for vengeance for some slight in the past and were taking advantage of the chaos in this one’s organization? Or— 

“Careful!” a familiar voice cried out. “He’s wounded, and I want him alive.”

This one grunted, forcing words through its lips despite the pain. “Alya-mare, what are you doing?!”

The invisibility magic around the Alya-mare fell away, leaving her standing in front of this one with a pensive frown. “I’m sorry about this, Puzzle. I really am.”