To Earn One’s Wings
Chapter 13: Escape
Magnum was distracted. How could he not be? Dead bodies possessed by vengeful spirits or demons or some other immaterial thing were trying to eat him. It is no surprise then, that he didn’t immediately react when Thunderbolt collapsed. When he did notice, he rushed to Thunderbolt’s side. Fear coiled around his heart. He tried to suppress the traitorous thoughts that told him his best friend had just died. Holding his breath he put his ear against Thunderbolt’s chest. At first, he could only hear the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His throat tightened. Unbidden, a tear started to roll down his cheek. Then he heard it.
Lub-dub.
A heartbeat! It was faint, like a whisper, but was a heartbeat nonetheless.
Lub-dub.
If Magnum hadn’t been listening, he wouldn’t have heard it.
Lub-dub.
It may have been his imagination, but the heartbeat seemed to grow louder. Steadier too, if slow. So agonizingly slow.
Lub-dub.
With each beat the coil around his heart loosened, if only a little. He barely noticed his own heartbeat slowing down or his own breathing becoming less shallow. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat back on his haunches. Casting his eyes up at the sky he said a silent prayer of thanks.
“Is he alive?”
The gravelly voice startled Magnum. In his concern for Thunderbolt, he had lost track of his surroundings. He looked around. The crack had sealed up, only the most observant of ponies would notice the paper-thin scar it had left. Around the courtyard, what was left of the castle’s guards were dragging corpses and body parts into a pile. Some of them had started digging holes next to the pile. Graves, Magnum assumed. Next to him, Milky Eye stood, a cigarette and fire crystal in his forehooves.
“Is he alive?” Milky Eye repeated. The tip of his cigarette glowed as he sucked on it.
“Ye-Yeah. He’s alive.” Magnum narrowed his eyes. “Why do you care?”
“I’d prefer not to tell my employer that one of his test subjects died under my watch.” Milky Eye blew streams of smoke through his nostrils. “Besides, even I would hate for a pony to die while assisting me and my men in surviving whatever the hell this was.”
“Huh...” Magnum was quiet for a moment. He licked his lips. “What happens now?”
Milky Eye rubbed his eyes. “I suppose that I should have some of my men escort you to one of the holding cells. But,” He waved his hoof across the courtyard. “I am afraid that they are occupied at the moment. Besides,” Milky Eye took a long draw of the cigarette, took a moment to take it from his mouth and flick the ash onto the courtyard. Magnum raised an eyebrow.
“Besides?”
Milky Eye sighed. A thick cloud of black smoke filled the air. “I would prefer to not let a good deed go unrewarded. You saved the lives of me and some of my men. I believe that it is only fitting to give you a head start in escaping.”
Magnum licked his lips. “Why not just let us go?”
Milky Eye chuckled. “I am still your warden, for all intents and purposes. It would be a dereliction of duty to simply let you go.” He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. It is the best I can do.”
Magnum nodded. “How long do we have?”
Milky Eye looked at the horizon where the sun was just disappearing behind the canopy of the Everfree Forest. “Until the sun finishes setting. I can’t give you any more time.”
Magnum bit his lip. If he was lucky it would take 30 minutes for the sun to finish setting. If he was alone, it might have been enough time to hide or escape, but he wasn’t willing to abandon Thunderbolt. He looked at Milky Eye. “That’s not a lot of time.”
“Then you shouldn’t waste it making such obvious remarks.”
Magnum nodded, bowed down, slid his snout underneath Thunderbolt’s body. He proceeded to lift him on his back. ‘How well have you been eating, Sparks?’ he thought before making his way to the open castle gates.
“One last thing” Milky Eye shouted. Magnum turned back to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Milky Eye threw the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed with a forehoof. “I don’t know what you are planning, but if you are truly going to go against the Sage, I wish you good luck”
Weightless.
That is how Thunderbolt would later describe what he felt after touching the crack in reality. He would never feel that it quite captured his experience in that void between the material and spiritual realms. For how do you describe the feeling of being blind, deaf and mute at the same time? How would you describe the absence of air on your skin? Or the lack of solid ground underneath your hooves?
Before his brain could process the lack of data from his senses, new data was already flooding it. His hooves felt hard dirt beneath them. A light breeze caressed his skin. The smell of the forest invaded his nostrils and birdsong nestled itself into his ears. Thunderbolt opened his eyes… and had to blink.
He found himself in the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters. However, this version was free of the blood and bodies and other scars of battle that marked the ruins he had recently come from.
“What the hell…” he breathed.
“Rest assured, pony,” a hoarse voice behind Thunderbolt echoed. “You are not in hell.”
Thunderbolt spun around. Behind him stood a skeletal pony wrapped in a tattered black cloak. The long wooden handle of a scythe leaned against his shoulder. The scythe’s blade was burned as black as his cloak.
“But do not get too comfortable,” the skeletal pony continued. “This is not heaven either.”
The obvious questions popped into Thunderbolt’s mind first. ‘Where am I?’ ‘Who are you?’ ‘What are you?’ Then he noticed something. The skeletal pony was alone. Thunderbolt vaguely remembered catching a glimpse of him through the crack in the ruined castle’s courtyard standing within a group of ponies.
“Where’s your entourage?” he asked, motioning with his head to the area behind the skeleton.
“My entourage?” The skeletal pony cocked its head to the side. After a moment its eye sockets seemed to widen. “Ah, yes. The souls of the dead that have yet to pass on. I have taken them to their final judgement. Whatever happens from there is between them and their Creator.”
Thunderbolt straightened his back and set his jaw. “Are you here to take me to my judgement?” The steel in his voice marked the statement as a challenge rather than a question. The skeletal pony chuckled.
“No… no… I have it on good authority that it is some time yet before you face your own judgement.”
Thunderbolt licked his lips. He flicked his tail nervously. “What are you here for then?”
“To observe. I’ve been told that something of interest will occur.”
“Something of interest?” Thunderbolt raised an eyebrow. “You have any more information than that?”
The skeletal pony shook his head. “I am afraid that I do not. However, if I may offer you some advice… you best not linger here. The realm of spirit is no place for a mortal soul to wander.”
“Any idea how I’m supposed to get out?” Thunderbolt jerked his head at a thin scar that hung in the middle of the courtyard. “I don’t think that I can get out the way that I got in.”
The skeletal pony shrugged. “I merely guide the souls of the dead to their final judgement. I do not need nor do I care to know how to return to the realm of the living. Though, if I may hazard a guess, look for a door.”
Thunderbolt raised an eyebrow. “A door? Really? Do you think that the way out would be that obvious?”
“The realm of spirits is a place influenced by concepts. You ponies tend to be rather straightforward in my experience. A ring for commitment; books for knowledge; a shield for protection. Are you truly surprised that an exit would be represented by a door?”
Thunderbolt snorted. “Fair point.” He started looking around for something resembling a door. The gates on the far end of the courtyard caught his eye. He trotted towards it. He felt lighter than usual.
“So,” he asked over his shoulder. “You have a name?”
The skeletal pony chuckled. “The living has been kind enough to give me several. The Reaper. Charon. Those from the East call me a ‘shinigami’, a death spirit. Personally, I prefer Thanatos. And how may I address you?”
“Thunderbolt’s fine. So, Thanatos, I don’t suppose you know what happens during the judgements?”
“I am afraid that I do not. I merely escort the dead to their final judgement. It is God’s privilege and responsibility to judge the lives of the deceased. It is not for me to know what verdicts He decrees.”
“Oh. I see.” Thunderbolt couldn’t hide the dejection in his voice. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and looked up at the gates of the courtyard. They seemed to be unbarred. Thunderbolt wrapped his magic around one of the rings and pulled. The gate rattled but did not move. Thunderbolt frowned and cocked his head sideways.
“I don’t think that I’m getting out this way…” he mumbled. He looked up at the castle ramparts. “Perhaps if I fly up there I can-”
“Fly? How do you intend to do that?”
“How do you think? With-” Thunderbolt froze. He had overlooked something. He had neglected to check himself for injuries. As he clutched his sides and discovered the absence of the expected feathery limbs, it dawned on him with cold horror that his wings were missing.
“Thanatos,” he growled. “Where are my wings?”
The skeletal pony seemed to be lazily examining his hoof. “Where are your wings? That’s a strange question to ask. What sort of unicorn has wings?”
“But…” Thunderbolt protested. His mouth became dry and his throat grew tight.
“Whatever the case may be in the material realm,” Thanatos continued. “You remain a unicorn in essence. Nothing you, or any of your mortal peers, do will change that. Besides,” a smug tome crept into his hoarse voice. “Those aren’t your wings. You took them from someone else.”
Thunderbolt grinded his teeth. “How do you know that?”
“Thunderbolt, you have been surrounded by enough death that I believe that I can construct a rather accurate picture of who you are by only looking at the lives of those who died around you. The lives of your comrades two years ago was quite informative.”
“And what kind of image is that?” he growled.
“The image of a pony who deserves better than to endlessly wander the realm of spirit. Having said that, I am not sure that simply hopping over this castle’s ramparts will help you find your way back to the world of the living.” Thanatos pointed to a staircase to Thunderbolt’s right. “But if you insist on traversing the castle’s ramparts, those stairs might prove useful.”
Thunderbolt clenched his jaw. Then he relaxed it with a sigh. ‘He’s not responsible for their deaths,’ he chided himself. ‘Besides, he’s not wrong. Those wings…’ he shook his head. ‘Are not important right now. I need to get out of here. The question is how...’ he scanned the courtyard. ‘Thanatos suggested that the exit might be represented by a door.’ He scanned the courtyard. ‘If the gate doesn’t work… Yes, there!’ On the far side of the courtyard, a small side door hid in a corner. In an ordinary castle, it would lead deeper into the castle, but this was not an ordinary castle. Here, it may just be a way back to the material realm. At least that’s what Thunderbolt hoped as he started trotting toward it. It briefly occurred to him that Thanatos might not be trustworthy, but he dismissed the thought. He seemed to know more about the place that they were in than Thunderbolt did. He needed that knowledge if he were to escape. And if he did prove to be untrustworthy? Thunderbolt decided that he would cross that bridge when he got there. There was one thing that was bothering him, however.
“Hey, Thanatos, have we met before?”
“I doubt it,” Thanatos answered as he sauntered after Thunderbolt. “I do not deal with the living. But… I must admit that some of the dead profess to have seen me at some point in their lives. These individuals are the exception, however. They were sensitive to spirits as well as surrounded by the dead at that time.” Thanatos seemed to raise his non-existent eyebrows. “Are you one of those exceptional individuals?”
Thunderbolt shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not ‘sensitive to spirits’, whatever that means. I just thought I saw something that looked like you at Canterlot Cathedral earlier this week as well as during this weird dream I had.”
“A dream, you say. I remember observing some dreamers a day or so ago that were almost devoured by a demon.”
Thunderbolt stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to gape at Thanatos. “Devoured?”
“It’s a rare occurrence,” Thanatos reassured him. “Occasionally a powerful demon will find its way into a dream and devour the life force of the dreamer. Usually, the dreamer dies, but in this instance, one of the Seraphim managed to save them from the demon.”
“Does that happen often?”
“No. As I said, it is a rare occurrence and it falls to the Seraphim to protect mortals from being devoured like that.”
“Why even allow the demons to even try to eat life force? Why not just wipe them out?”
Thanatos shrugged. “I am not one to question Providence.”
“You’re alone in that," Thunderbolt mumbled as he placed his hoof on the small side door. He froze. His ears pricked up. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Thunderbolt strained his ears. “I’m not sure it’s some sort of-” There it was again. Fillyish giggling could be heard through the side door. “It sounds like a foal,” he breathed. As if in a daze, he pushed the door open
“Thunderbolt, I don’t think that’s wise,” Thanatos protested, but Thunderbolt didn’t hear him.
Behind the door, a bare stone hall stretched out. In the middle, a pale white earth pony filly sat playing with a patchwork ragdoll. Her oily black mane clung to her skull. Thunderbolt’s hoofstep echoed as he stepped into the hallway. The filly’s head snapped up at the sound. Her pupiless eyes seemed to glow with a dull yellow light.
Cautiously, Thunderbolt approached the filly. She smelled of smoke. Thunderbolt licked his lips. He felt a twitch in his tail. Something about this filly set him on edge.
“Where are your parents, little one?” Thunderbolt tried to keep the discomfort out of his voice. The filly looked up at him uncomprehendingly. Her pupiless eyes and blank stare sent a shiver down his spine. After a moment she held her patchwork ragdoll out toward Thunderbolt. She wore an expectant smile on her lips. Thunderbolt responded with an uncomfortable half-smile of his own.
“That nice, little one, but…” A thought struck him. The filly might know a way out. Granted, she could lead him deeper into the spirit realm and make any return journey more difficult, but, Thunderbolt reasoned, it could not make his much worse, could it? With this thought firmly in mind, he knelt down in front of her, pushed his discomfort at looking directly into her pupiless eyes and plastered the friendliest smile possible onto his face.
“Listen, little one, I’m a bit lost. You wouldn’t happen to know a way out of here?”
Again the filly looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then she dropped her patchwork ragdoll on the ground and dashed down the hallway and around the corner.
‘Lovely, you chased a filly away,’ Thunderbolt chided himself with a roll of the eyes. ‘I suppose that there’s nothing left to do, but wander until I found an exit.’ He had barely finished the thought when the filly poked her head around the corner and beckoned Thunderbolt with an exaggerated wave of her foreleg. With a chuckle and shake of his head, Thunderbolt trotted after the filly.
Soon he had to turn his trot into a gallop. The filly was fast. Inequinely fast. He would barely round a corner and he’d see her oily black tail round the next one. She didn’t seem to tire either. Despite the seemingly endless maze of twists and turns, the filly did not slow down a bit. Thunderbolt felt his legs start to ache. A sharp pain stabbed into his sides. His lungs started to burn. Still, he pressed on. He needed to find a way back to the material world and this filly might just be leading him to it. Despite this part of him thought it strange for a filly to also be in the spirit realm. Stranger still was the great coincidence that he would find her just sitting in a hallway playing with her doll. Additionally, she seemed awfully eager to help him. Thunderbolt pushed the thought away. If she knew a way out he needed to follow her.
After rounding yet another corner, Thunderbolt found himself in a dead-end. The filly was nowhere to be seen. The discomfort that he pushed away earlier returned in full force. His tail started twitching back and forth. His ears swivelled in his skull, searching for a sound. It was eerily quiet.
“Little one,” he hissed. “Where are you?” He heard a shuffling sound from behind him. Spinning around he saw the filly. She had a cheerful smile on her face and was waving in his direction. It was like she was wishing a friend farewell. Thunderbolt gaped at her. Sluggishly his brain processed the fact that she was behind him. ‘How did she get there,’ was his last thought before blackness enveloped him.
Magnum was worried. The sun had dipped its head below the horizon and whatever light was left was fading fast. Soon the Everfree would be waking up in earnest. During the day, navigating the forest was manageable. Hell, it could even be downright pleasant. If you knew where to look you could find beauty unlike anywhere else in Equestria. But when night fell, all kinds of creatures crawled out of their holes. Leonine manticores and chicken headed cockatrices roamed the darkened forest. Anyone unfortunate enough to be caught by them was rarely heard from again. With this knowledge in mind, Magnum made his way into the forest. His ears swivelled side to side in his skull. His eyes darted around in their sockets. He tried to take note of every rustling bush and every moving shadow along the forest path. He chided himself. He couldn’t keep track of every little thing around him. He needed to find shelter and wait out the night.
A mournful howl echoed in the fading dusk. The sound sent a shiver down Magnum’s spine. Timberwolves would be out hunting. Magnum quickened his pace. He was not in a position to deal with a pack of the wooden abominations. Now he really needed to find shelter. No, first he needed to find Aurum and Char.
‘That damn mare,’ he thought. ‘The lizard seems like he can at least hold his own, but that damn mare is just a liability. Why’d you even bring her with you?’ Magnum rolled his eyes. ‘Right, because Celestia told you to. Not that you could ever refuse a pretty mare.’ Magnum thought with a chuckle. Then, he paused. He heard something splashing deeper into the forest. He knew that a stream ran to his left. Perhaps some creature had fallen into the stream and was caught in the iron grip of a cragadile’s jaws. Magnum was about to ignore the splashing and return to his search but it occurred to him that it could be Aurum that fell into the river. Swearing under his breath, he swerved off of the forest path.
Magnum found Char sitting at the edge of the stream. He sat with his back ramrod stiff and his eyes focused on the river in front of him. He reminded Magnum of a gargoyle, those silent, stony guardians perched on the roofs of cathedrals everywhere. The dragon glanced back. The movement was almost imperceptible, barely a flick of emerald eyes in Magnum’s direction.
“What happened?” the dragon asked. His voice sounded almost bored.
“I’m not sure. He collapsed. But he is still alive, thank God.” Char replied with a grunt. Magnum glanced around him. “Where’s the mare?”
Char pointed to his left with his head. A little distance away Aurum was up to her belly in the water.
“She wanted to wash herself,” the dragon rumbled. Magnum looked away, a slight blush on his face.
“She’s making too much noise,” he complained. “She’s going to attract cragadiles or worse.”
Char rolled his eyes. “Is that not why I am keeping watch? While I am far enough to give her privacy, I am close enough to ensure that she is safe.”
Magnum snorted. “We have to find shelter.”
“We have to get back to that village.”
“It took us half a day to get here, Lizard. Trying to cover that distance at night is just asking for trouble.”
Char straightened his back. Smoke started wafting from his nostrils. “Are you doubting the power of a dragon?” he snarled.
“If it were just the two of us trying to make the trip, I’d risk it, but we have an invalid and a civilian tagging along. I’d prefer not to take that gamble with my best friend’s life on the line.”
Char didn’t immediately respond. His jaw tightened. A staring match ensued. A low growl escaped from Char’s lips. After several tense moments, the dragon sighed, blowing out a thick cloud of coal-black smoke in the process.
“Do you have anywhere in mind?” Char asked with a resigned tone.
“There’s a,” Magnum licked his lips as he consulted his mental map of the Everfree. “There’s a cave just to the south of here. It’s too big for…”
An anguished cry interrupted him. Swivelling his head in the sound’s direction, he saw Aurum standing at the river’s edge. She rushed forward, water droplets flying off of her flowing mane like diamonds being flung to the wind. She knelt next to Magnum and cradled Thunderbolt’s head in her hooves. She looked up at Magnum, her amethyst eyes wide with worry.
“Is he…” Aurum couldn’t finish the question and let it hang in the air.
Placing his hoof on her head, Magnum shook his head. A reassuring smile formed on his face. “Don’t worry, he’s still alive. But we have to get going. The forest is no place for us to stay in the open.”
“But where will we go.”
“There is a cave to the south. We can stay there till morning.”
Char snorted. “And then? What happens once the sun rises?”
Magnum shrugged. “I don’t know. Hopefully, Thunderbolt will have woken up, but if not…” He sighed. “We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there. In any case.” Magnum turned and made his way into the forest. “We can discuss it once we’ve made camp.”
Thunderbolt swore. A darkness that seemed darker than black surrounded him. He felt a thick, viscous fluid coming up to his ankles. Some acrid smell invaded his nose. The smell made him dizzy. He shook his head and took a step forward. His knees buckled. An unpleasant tingle went down his spine. He felt himself weakening, as if something was siphoning his strength. The feeling was strangely familiar, like a long-forgotten dream.
Thunderbolt’s eyes widened. He had felt this feeling before. In that nightmare on the train to Ponyville. The one where a demon tried to devour his soul. Compared to that feeling of having his soul ripped from his body, this tingling feeling was almost pleasant.
Thunderbolt felt his breath grow shallow as panic rose within him. He needed to get out of wherever the hell he was before his soul or life force or whatever was completely sucked out of him. Before he was devoured by whatever lurked in this darkness.
‘First things first,’ he thought, suppressing the panic within him. ‘Let’s get rid of this darkness.’ He started pouring magic into his horn. It seemed more difficult to direct magic than in the material realm. There it simply flowed. Here, it felt like he was trying to direct the magic against itself. Thus, it was an arduously slow process. He grunted under the strain. After several minutes he had enough magic gathered. Gritting his teeth, he sent the magic outward in the form of a brilliant silver-blue light.
The light revealed a gaping hole right in front of Thunderbolt’s snout. It seemed to have no bottom. Its sides were lined with row upon row of teeth. Thunderbolt stumbled back with a swear. As he did so, he lost his balance and fell flank first into the viscous liquid. Some of it got into his mouth. He tasted a familiar metallic tang. Looking down, he saw that the viscous liquid he was covered in was a dark crimson. Blood. The panic he suppressed earlier returned in full force, manifesting in a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.
A maniacal cackle rang in his ears. It seemed to come from all around him.
“Who the fuck’s there?” he screamed. Part of him winced at the hysterical crack in his voice. “Show yourself!”
The world around Thunderbolt blurred. The hole filled with teeth, which was set in a roiling mass of flesh and tentacles, turned into a wide hallway of pristine white marble lined with torches. Fires burned in them, bathing the hallway in an ominous red light. The floor of blood turned into black marble. A bright red carpet ran down the middle. At the end of the hallway, on a raised dais, a black goat sat on a red throne. Its head was resting its cloven hoof, a glass of wine in the other. An amused smile played on his lips.
“Not many can use magic while their life is being sucked out of them,” the goat drawled in a distinctly masculine voice. “I’m impressed.”
The goat’s voice sent an unpleasant tingle down Thunderbolt’s spine. He felt his tail twitch involuntarily. His throat felt dry. His muscles tense. His breath felt shallow. He felt fear curl itself around his heart and throat. He was not convinced that he could win a fight if it came to it.
“Who are you?” Thunderbolt growled.
The goat clicked his tongue in response. “You shouldn’t ask someone’s name so casually,” he chided playfully, swirling the wine in his glass. “Names have more power than you realize, Mr Stormbringer.” A cold shiver went down Thunderbolt’s spine at the mention of his surname.
“Fine. No names. What the hell do you want?”
The goat sighed and his smile vanished from his face. He sat upright and took a lingering look into his glass of wine. “You ponies are so boringly predictable.” His voice took on a mocking tone. “‘Who are you?’ ‘What do you want?’ ‘Please don’t kill me. I have a family.’ I truly thought that you were something different. Something more than a morsel to enjoy.”
Thunderbolt raised an eyebrow. “What? You wanted dinner and a show?”
“What I want, Mr Stormbringer is to be entertained. I see an opportunity in you, but if you’re only going to ask boring questions…” The goat let the sentence hang in the air.
Thunderbolt bit his lip. The goat wasn’t giving him much of a choice. Entertain him or be devoured. He looked around the room. No obvious escape routes presented themselves. Thunderbolt swore internally. He needed time to think. He glanced at the goat. He was lounging on his throne, swirling the wine in his glass and blowing a bored raspberry. Thunderbolt doubted that it would be long before the goat decided to create his own entertainment and he was sure that he would play a central role. He needed time to think of a way to escape. Thus, the only thing to do was to stall.
“Fine, I’ll bite,” Thunderbolt finally said with a mock sigh. “What sort of opportunity?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” the goat cried. He drained his wine glass and threw it aside, the glass turning into mist midair. He jumped off of his throne and started sauntering down the hallway. “You see, I didn’t recognize you at first,” he cheerfully explained. “But you’re the newest thorn in Golden Dawn’s side and I thought.”
“Golden Dawn?” Thunderbolt interrupted.
The goat looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment before realization set in. “Right, he goes by a different name now… what was it?” He tapped his chin. “Ah, yes. The Sage.”
“How the hell do you know The Sage?”
The goat spread his forelegs wide and smiled even wider. “I’m his benefactor, of course. I gave Dawn a long life and power over shadows and in return, he sends me a tasty morsel every now and then.”
‘Morsels? He probably means living sacrifices.’ Thunderbolt had to suppress the bile rising in his throat. Treating life, especially pony life, as nothing more than food was abhorrent to him. Yet, he could not object. Not yet. He still needed to find a way out of… wherever he was. Thus he forced himself to be agreeable.
“Sounds like quite the lucrative arrangement,”
“It is,” the goat sighed contentedly. “It really is.” His voice took on a petulant tone. “But Dawn is becoming so booring.” He stuck his bottom lip out in what seemed to Thunderbolt like an overexaggerated pout. “With his goal within reach, he is becoming so stale and predictable…”
“And you think that I can spice things up?”
An excited smile grew on the goat’s face. “You already have. I must compliment you at your display at the cathedral. Quite unexpected. It has had Dawn in a tizzy, adjusting and readjusting his plans. And today at the castle? Magnificent!”
“Then let me go. I can’t disrupt The Sage’s plans from here.”
“A tempting proposal, but no. It would not do for a demon of my stature to just let a mortal go… but I am sure we could work out something. A nice quid pro quo.”
There it was, the Faustian bargain. Whatever the terms the goat offered, Thunderbolt doubted that they would be beneficial to him at the end of the day. He grit his teeth. Despite his stalling, he couldn’t find an escape route. This bargain seemed the only way out, save perhaps fighting and defeating the goat. Something told him that even trying would be foolish. What he needed was a guarantee, some clause that would ensure that he was not screwed over too badly.
“How can I trust you?” Thunderbolt started the negotiation. “You seem awfully eager to betray someone you’ve been supporting.”
The goat shrugged. “I don’t see it that way. I believe that I have held up my end of that bargain as much as he has. He has the power and long life that he asked for. Besides...” A cruel smirk grew on the goat’s face. “I never promised him success, nor did I promise that I would not interfere should the mood strike me.”
“So you’d interfere with my goals ‘should the mood strike you’? “
The goat shrugged again. “I might. Does it really matter? You get something you want, and I get entertained.”
“What exactly’s on offer?”
The goat’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Whatever you want. Wealth.”
An image of Thunderbolt surrounded by piles of gold entered his mind.
“Power.”
He saw himself towering over fearful ponies, wings spread and eyes aglow with terrible power.
“Mares.”
An image of a room full of mares of every kind gazing at him lustfully swam before his eyes.
“Wisdom and knowledge.”
A room filled with books filled his vision with himself at its centre. Thunderbolt licked his lips and swallowed nervously. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted by the offer. But he could not take it. He had no guarantee that he would not be one the losing end of the deal, and Faustian bargains have a reputation of screwing over the mortals involved. Still, he needed a way out and this deal seemed like the only way. Thunderbolt looked at the goat’s outstretched hoof with venom. He didn’t like his position. He didn’t like the smug smile on the goat’s lips and the gleam of victory in his eyes. Hesitatingly he raised his own hoof and extended it toward the goat. Before they could touch, however, a white light tore through the space between them.
Magnum considered Aurum from across the firepit in the middle of the cave. She was trying to make Thunderbolt comfortable. She had laid him on his stomach and was busy fiddling with his wings. ‘Preening’ she had called it. Wing maintenance. A pegasus would go over their wings with their snouts to remove dead feathers and reposition those that are out of place. The process would also spread oils that contribute to the lifespan of feathers. She said that Thunderbolt’s wings looked like they haven’t been preened for a long time, so she’d do it for him. She slowly went over his unbroken wing, adjusting and readjusting the feathers. Magnum sighed. The mare seemed to be chipper despite the day’s events. But the mind was fragile, like a robin’s egg. Magnum knew that she’ll break sooner or later and he doubted that it would be pretty.
‘What the hell was Celestia thinking?’ he wondered. ‘If she wanted to keep Aurum safe, wouldn’t it be easier to just put her under guard in the castle rather than sending her out into the field to catch what’s essentially the boogyman?’ Magnum shook his head. In doing so, he caught sight of Char staring at him intently.
“What?” the stallion asked stupidly.
“You never told us how you escaped from our captors.”
It took Magnum a moment to realize that Char was referring to The Sage’s men back at the castle ruins. When he did, he simply shrugged. “They just… let us go.”
Char had an incredulous look on his face. “They let you go? You didn’t need to kill or incapacitate them?”
“No, we didn’t need to.” Magnum proceeded to update Char on the events after he and Aurum had escaped the ruins.
“It could be a trap,”
Magnum snorted. “If it is, it’s a pretty stupid one. Like I said before, this place is a deathtrap at night. If they’re smart, they won’t send out anyone until the sun rises. If we leave right before dawn we can put a lot of distance between them and us. Perhaps even make it back to town.”
“And from there? Where do you plan on going?”
Magnum blew a raspberry. “I’m going home. This is Spark’s problem. He can deal with it when he wakes up.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Lizard, the only reason that I’m here is to guide you through the forest. That’s it. I have a daughter to take care of. I can’t tag along until you catch a stallion that can literally melt into the shadows.”
Char sighed and turned to stare out of the cave. “At least you have your priorities straight,” he muttered. Magnum thought that he could hear a resigned tone in his voice. Magnum shook his head before slowly blowing the air out his lungs. He went back to considering Aurum from across the fire as she slowly preened Thunderbolt’s wing.
When the light subsided, Thunderbolt found his vision filled with golden fur. Taking a step back, he saw a stallion twice his size. The wings his back were spread wide, each one the length of Thunderbolt’s entire body. He also had wings on his hooves, these the size of a regular pegasus’s wings and folded neatly against his legs. The stallion’s horn was burned with terrible golden power. All of it directed at the red goat.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Gabriel?” The goat’s voice was nonchalant.
“Begone, demon,” Gabriel demanded, his voice ringing with quiet authority. One of the goat’s forehooves flew to his chest.
“You wound me, brother. Is that really the first thing you say to me after not seeing me in, what, 3 centuries? How’s our Father doing, by the way? Is he still playing house with his mortal creations?”
In response, Gabriel unleashed his power. A golden beam shot from his horn and enveloped the goat. Thunderbolt could see his body being torn apart by the force. Then a mad, maniacal cackle rang in Thunderbolt’s ears.
“My offer still stands, pony,” the goat whispered in Thunderbolt’s ear. He spun around, trying to see the speaker. “If you’re interested, find me in your dreams.” Having delivered his message, the goat’s mad cackling subsided, ending completely when Gabriel decided to reign in his powers. Not a trace of the goat was left.
“Damnable creatures,” the equine-like creature swore. He spat on the ground where the goat stood. He turned to Thunderbolt. His eyes were completely white, including the pupil.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. Thunderbolt shook his head in reply. Gabriel nodded. “Good. Good. Let’s get you out of here.” He lit his horn, it was a soothing golden glow this time and the white marble corridor vanished, replaced with an empty white space extending in all directions.
Questions flooded Thunderbolt’s mind. It took him several moments to sort through them. Finally, he settled on the most practical one.
“Is he dead?”
Gabriel sighed. “Sadly, he is not. He is a creature of spirit. Unlike you mortals, he can only be banished. He will return in time.”
“Shit…” Thunderbolt sighed, earning himself a dirty look from Gabriel. “What are you?”
“I am of the Seraphim, the highest of the angelic beings.”
“Why did you save me?”
“It is my duty.” Gabriel looked away, his mouth a thin line. “You mortals cannot stand against a demon, not on your own. Thus it falls to me and the other Seraphim to gather the lost souls and return them to their bodies.”
Thunderbolt looked around him. “Then where am I now?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Technically, you haven’t moved an inch,” a hoarse voice behind him said. Thunderbolt spun around. The skeletal form of Thanatos was behind him. “You are still in the realm of spirits.”
Thunderbolt turned to Gabriel. “I thought you returned lost spirits to their bodies.” His tone was accusatory. His goal was to return to his body, not get stuck in some other dimension of the spirit realm, heavenly or otherwise.
“Normally this is the case,” the Seraph admitted. “However, He wished to see you.” He turned and started walking into the distance. Thunderbolt turned to Thanatos, his mouth agape in confusion. The skeletal pony simply brushed an invisible mote of dust from Thunderbolt’s shoulder.
“Pull yourself together,” he said. “You’re about to meet your Maker.”