Silence reigned in the room, but Sunset groaned at the pounding in her head. It felt like an iron wedge coated in kerosene had been driven into her skull and then set ablaze.
What do they even want with me? she wondered. They’ve questioned me twice about this Fulcrum thing. If I knew anything useful I would’ve already told them.
And Summer confused her now. She had obviously lied to her, which cast everything she was told into doubt. The obvious look of distress when she had been made to verify what Sunset had cried out under her torture offered the smallest sliver of sympathy.
The door creaked open and Iron came in, a small packet floating in his aura.
“What more do you want from me?” Sunset groaned.
“Just, listen,” the stallion said. “Everything between you and me, it’s just business.” He rubbed the back of his head. “It’s what we do. We find intel by any and all means possible. Your Da was in the service, so you should understand.”
Sunset rolled her eyes before instantly regretting it as the world spun.
“But what I’m supposed to do now, I don’t like it one bit,” he said, bringing the packet down and removing a photo.
A photo of Twilight bound and gagged with a mage shackle on her horn. The room was barely a step up from her current accommodations —which didn’t say much —and included a set of shackles that showed no trace of thought of comfort outside of a few threadbare chairs.
Rage flared in Sunset’s heart as she saw the image and she surged forth, ravenous with anger, stopped only by the ropes binding her. The strands began to creak in protest as she struggled.
“Hey now,” Iron said, dropping the photo and backing up a step. “Steady on. Those ropes are on you something tight and it won’t do to have you hurt yourself.”
Sunset shunted power to her horn, ignoring the surge of feedback. The ring crimped around it began to glow white-hot and a small bit of smoke rose from its borders.
Iron gasped and brought his own magic to bear, trying to force the feedback down. Focused on this task, he didn’t hear the thumping sound from outside or the shouts of alarm until the door was flung open by a guard, fear plastered on his face.
Sunset and Iron looked at the guard. The terrified stallion forced his back against the door, bracing it shut.
The door blew open regardless, flinging the guard away. He slumped against a nearby wall motionless.
Shadow and menace filled the door as Alecto, Erinyes of Wrath and one of the three Furies, stepped inside, a whip of living flame dangling from her left hand.
“You again,” she muttered as she saw Sunset.
Sunset fell slack at the sight, brain shutting down as memories flew through her mind. Being forced to attack Twilight over and over as she tried in vain to resist, burning in her own fires in the depths of Tartarus as the creature before her and her sisters enacted ‘justice’ for her crimes.
“Who are you?” Iron asked, swinging his horn around to bear on the Fury. He was soon silenced as Alecto flicked her wrist, her whip flying out and wrapping around his throat.
“I did not give you leave to speak, mortal,” she hissed. “You will hold your tongue.”
She turned her gaze to Sunset. “And I assume you are not here of your own will? Are you once again being held accountable for your actions?”
Sunset could only let out a small whimper, the rage that had kindled a few moments ago now doused under the icy chill of fear.
Alecto jerked the whip, hauling Iron closer to her. She seized his jaw and stared hard into his eyes.
“I see,” she said. She raised her opposite hand and a sword of fire erupted into being. Sunset closed her eyes as the blade came down.
Twilight opened her eyes and stretched against her bindings. Starlight Glimmer had told her that she would come to enact a rescue as soon as she reported in and informed her superiors at the Equestrian Intelligence Service. All she could do now was wait and bide her time.
The door to her dingy room opened, and in strode a Unicorn mare with a very sour disposition. Everything about her screamed superiority, from the finely made jacket and blouse she wore, to the tightly coiffed mane and stiff bearing. A set of sharply angled glasses hung from around her neck and the cutie mark of an abacus shone on her flank.
“So," she said. “You are the much-touted Princess of Friendship?” She scoffed and ran her gaze over the Alicorn’s frame, horn lighting and bringing her glasses up. “You don’t look like much.”
“Who are you?” Twilight demanded. “Why am I here?”
“Abacus Cinch. And you are here because I commanded it.” The mare lowered her glasses and stepped forward. “I have some plans that cannot be interrupted by you or your little band of misfits. How fortunate for me that you decided to take a vacation. Nopony will suspect your abduction until it’s too late.”
Twilight glared at her. The look had no effect on her visitor.
“While I’m here, why don’t we have a little chat?” Cinch gave one of the unoccupied chairs a quick swipe with a kerchief before sitting primly.
It’s like seeing an older Rarity, if she were evil, Twilight thought.
“Now, you are obviously a rather unrivaled expert in magical objects, Your Highness,” Cinch said. It was obvious she meant no respect in using the term. “I wonder, do you know what the Fulcrum is?”
Twilight blinked. “The Fulcrum? That’s why you kidnapped me?”
“So you do know of it. Excellent, simply splendid.”
“Of course I do,” Twilight scoffed. “Everypony who studied basic magic history knows the myth of primal mana and how it infused the world with magic.”
“Oh, it’s no myth,” Cinch purred. “It’s very, very real.”
“It can’t be.” Twilight shook her head. “If it were, it would allow control over anypony that had magic.”
The smile on Cinch’s face sent chills running down Twilight’s spine. Primal mana was the source of all magic; spells from Unicorns, flight and weather control for Pegasi, and the natural affinity of the Earth Ponies. If the myths weren’t just that…
“You can’t,” Twilight whispered.
Cinch merely laughed and stood to leave. “I suppose I’ll just have to visit you again once you’ve pondered this information. But before I go…”
The shackle on Twilight’s horn was jerked off, and another one put in its place. “Can’t have you slipping away. So sloppy of Starlight to have used a defective shackle. I’ll have to talk to her about it.”
As the mage shackle flared to life, Twilight slumped to the ground, a few tears slipping free.
“Sunset,” she whispered. “Where are you?”