Flurry Heart impatiently checked her holo-brace for the umpteenth time. She had four hours and twenty minutes to get to Nyx before the Orion's life support failed and they would begin to suffocate. On top of that was the ever-increasing chance that they were under attack already. The thought made her heart clench, and she fought to keep her emotions from running out of control.
She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She needed to be out there helping Nyx! Why was she here, waiting on this fat, preening oaf and his ridiculous need for theatrics? Dark thoughts of snapping the idiot’s neck played in her mind, but she did not indulge them. She couldn’t afford to cause any more delays, regardless of how satisfying the idea was.
Flurry let out an irritated snort at the thought of surrendering herself to the disgusting slavemaster. The mere idea made her skin crawl. Still, this was a small sacrifice if it saved everyone’s life on the Orion. Playing along to keep Merry happy would buy her enough time to complete the mission. Once she got back, she would crack the command spell and then introduce Merry to an alicorn’s version of justice.
Her gaze drifted around the hangar in which she stood, across the nervous faces all looking at her. Every pegasus under Merry Weather’s command had been gathered here, from the lowliest mechanic to the most august of Merry’s inner circle. It didn’t matter that they all had work to do; the sleazy low-life would have his spectacle. He wanted everypony to see his moment of triumph—Last Shadow brought to heel.
This show had been part of the deal for his help after all.
Her gaze fell upon Oakheart, prominent for being the only earth pony amongst the crowd. He looked concerned, almost anxious. She hadn’t consulted him on her decision, and now, events were out of his hooves. He was just a spectator, and he was clearly unhappy about where this was headed.
Flurry still hadn’t seen Swan Song, though she spotted Blitz and his wingmates in the crowd. She gave him a nod, which he at least acknowledged.
“Attention!” a well-dressed stallion barked, making everypony stand straight. “May I present his lordship, Merry Weather!”
A reluctant stomp of applause rippled through the crowd as Merry Weather’s procession emerged. Twenty or so of his cronies surrounded him, barging their way past anyone too slow to move out of the way. They were all decked out in their red dress uniforms, covered in polished medals, striding forward like strutting peacocks. They all looked ridiculous amongst the oil-soaked coveralls and patched flight suits of those gathered, but none more so than Merry Weather himself.
His gold-accented jacket strained to keep his bulk contained, the front clasps valiantly fighting against the tide of fat. His chest jingled with tinny-sounding medals of all shapes and sizes, all polished to an impossible golden sheen. His mane looked almost solid with all the styling grease he had applied, bobbing heavily with each step he took.
Swan Song walked alongside him, a long ornate staff of black oak held under a wing. She appeared shell-shocked, her eyes listless and unfocused. The poor mare was evidently still processing everything that had taken place in the past few hours. As she caught sight of Flurry, she stopped for a moment, a frown crossing her brow. Flurry could see that Swan’s mind was racing, trying to comprehend everything that was happening.
The whole thing began shaking Flurry’s resolve, a sliver of doubt chipping away at her confidence. This was her last chance to back out before she was fully committed. She quashed the thought with a reminder that this wasn’t merely to help Nyx, but to hopefully achieve something profound for the slaves present here.
The procession came to a stop before Flurry Heart, and one of Merry’s officers motioned for silence. The stomping of hooves trailed off, leaving the hangar silent.
“You took your time,” she huffed. “What, did they have to butter you up so you could fit through the doors or something?”
Merry Weather simply smiled. “My, what a foul mouth. Is that any way to speak to your new master?”
“I’m not yours yet, cream puff,” she said.
He chuckled and leaned in close, the stench of his cologne almost choking. “Not to worry, I’ll soon find something to keep that mouth busy with.”
Flurry merely bared her teeth and snapped her jaws together, causing a few of the nearby stallions to wince.
Merry offered a smirk, pulling back and opening his wings as he turned toward the crowd. “My dear subjects! I have wonderful news to share with you all!” he called. “We find ourselves welcoming an auspicious new member into our ranks of blackwings.” He then gestured towards her. “The infamous killer known as Last Shadow… Flurry Heart!”
There were gasps of shock from the crowd, murmurs rolling through them like a wave.
“Some of you may have longstanding grievances against her, but let it be known that it is only because of her generosity that the coward Swan Song rejoins your ranks,” he said, earning a gasp from Swan herself. “She will be leading the blackwings in the coming operation.”
Swan looked to Flurry with wide eyes, her shock turning to confusion. She blinked away tears, her shoulders sagging in relief. Flurry simply smiled and winked at her before turning to look back at Merry. He seemed to be keeping up his end of the bargain, at least for now.
Merry then turned to Swan Song. “Now, my dear, I give you the honour of branding the newest member of your aerie.”
Swan Song’s gaze flicked between Merry and Flurry for a moment, hesitation freezing her to the spot.
“Well?”
“Yes, my lord,” Swan murmured, drawing the staff and clutching it in her hooves.
Closer now, Flurry could make out the details of the staff’s headpiece. It was two pegasi carved into the wood, their heads held low while their wings were stretched upwards, supporting a flat base marked with arcane runes. Dark magic pulsed from the runes and made her bristle as her senses brushed against it.
This was the staff of judgement, whose power would bind the recipient to their new owner until they were released. During her time in the Republic, she had seen it being used a few times, back when it was only meant to punish criminals. What was once a simple system of repaying society for your crimes, was now twisted into a cruel slaver’s tool, somehow sanctioned by the Republic.
Swan reluctantly took to the air and hovered over Flurry’s head.
“By the Emperor’s judgement, you are condemned for your crimes against the Republic,” Swan choked out, barely able to speak.
Merry’s eyes were shining with glee. “May your shame mark you, blackwing.”
He nodded to Swan Song, who hesitated, drawing a frown from Merry. “Do not make me regret my decision, my dear Swan.”
Flurry tilted her head and looked to the hovering pegasus. The mare’s eyes were wide, the staff shaking in her hooves. Despite Swan wanting her dead mere hours earlier, the branding was obviously far more personal to her. “Hurry up, kid. Get this over with; we’ve no time to dawdle. It’ll be okay.”
Swan nodded glumly, bringing the staff down to touch between Flurry’s flight muscles along her back.
Flurry winced as she felt something cold dive into her core. It was alien and sickly, coiling around her flight magic like a living thing, enveloping it whole. She let out a gasp as her wings went numb, and looking back, she saw speckles of black appear on her primary feathers. Her wings flapped involuntarily, the lack of sensation sending her body into a panic. The numbing coldness crept up her spine, heading towards her horn. She tried to hold it back, but it slipped through her defences like smoke. The dark blotches grew as everypony watched, until it swallowed the last of her natural colour, leaving her wings jet-black.
Merry looked like he was about to explode with joy at the sight.
Flurry tried to light her horn, which only produced a few sputtering sparks of light. All of her senses were dulled, distant sounds becoming indistinct, and she could no longer feel the air currents in her wings nor the pulse of magic in her horn.
Oh this isn’t good.
She barely held back her body’s growing panic as she tried to reach out to her senses, only to be met with empty silence. Her breathing increased, and sweat began to form on her brow as her heartbeat rose to a crescendo.
It took all of her will to hold her body in check. She couldn’t afford a full-blown panic attack now, not in front of him.
Focus.
She swallowed and glared at him. “Remember our deal, fatso, I get my powers until the Orion is docked.”
“What’s the magic word, my pet?” he asked in a sing-song voice.
Her teeth clenched and she bit back an insult. Just play along—he’ll get what’s coming to him later.
“Please.”
He flapped a wing, and a jolt passed through her like somepony had just shocked her with a stun rod at maximum setting. She clenched her teeth and bore the pain in silence. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of showing everyone how much it hurt.
“We must work on your etiquette, but all in good time,” he said with a sigh, flexing both wings in a complicated series of movements.
The change was immediate, like a shawl had been lifted from her eyes as her magic returned. Though now, there was a weight that wasn’t there before, like a cancerous blob coiled around her power.
“As agreed. Remember, my pet, you have twenty-four hours to return, otherwise the enchantment will kill you,” Merry warned. “I suggest you don’t be late.”
He let out a happy sigh. “Now, you all may return to your duties,” he announced before trotting away. “I shall prepare for your triumphant homecoming. Ta ta.”
Flurry simply scowled as he trotted away, laughing with his cronies.
As she turned, she saw the crew chief trot up to Swan, who was still clutching the staff tightly. She looked like she was going to be sick.
“Welcome back, lieutenant,” the old stallion said, giving her a salute. “Not an easy thing you just went through. You did well.”
It took a moment for Swan to recover before she straightened and returned the salute. “Thank you, Ratchet.” Her voice trembled with emotion, but she held it mostly in check, earning a small smile from the chief.
He patted her on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
He then turned to his work crews. “Alright you sorry lot, show’s over!” he yelled over the rising chatter. “We’ve still got ships to load onto the carrier so move it! The clock is ticking, ponies!”
The work crew fluttered off, heading towards the neighbouring hangars to begin their duties, leaving only a few blackwings remaining.
It was much quieter when Swan finally spoke.
“Tell me why, Last Shadow. Why did you do this?” she asked. “You just gave up your freedom. Everything. Why? I-I don’t understand.”
“I need Merry’s ship, and I need you to lead your aerie. Not to mention, I promised I’d help you,” Flurry replied, matter of factly. “I keep my promises, kid.”
“You don’t understand. You just sold your soul away,” she said, looking to the staff she held with revulsion.
“He might have my body for a while, but he doesn’t own our souls, kid,” Flurry replied. “Or should I refer to you as ma’am now? You technically are the head of my aerie.”
Swan’s tail flicked, and she let out a sigh. “Just Swan will do, Last—”
“Flurry Heart. My name’s Flurry Heart,” Flurry interrupted. “Last Shadow is dead. She’s been dead for a long time.”
Swan nodded grimly. “Fine, but you should know, this doesn’t change anything. I’m not your friend, and when this is over, I’m going to settle things between us.”
“I understand,” Flurry said with a sigh. “Look, I’m not expecting you to just sweep everything under the rug like it never happened. It might not have been my original reason for coming here, but I do want to help you, Swan. If you’ll let me.”
“You’re only doing this because you need us for your mission,” she said. “Once it’s over, you’ll weasel your way out of it, somehow, and leave us behind. Don’t try and pretend it’s for anything more than that.”
“Trust doesn’t come instantly, but it’s a start, right?”
“I suppose it is.”
Flurry gave her a weak smile as Oakheart joined them.
“Lieutenant,” he greeted Swan, giving her a nod. “I know things have been hectic for you the past few hours, but you should know that we’re departing within the hour. Sabre, Rapier, and Falchion squadrons are coming with us. Could you inform your pilots?”
“Yes sir,” Swan replied, giving him a salute before turning to leave. She stopped, her ears flattening as she looked back to the black-winged alicorn. “Flurry Heart?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” And with that, she was gone.
Flurry smiled and flexed her black wings. “This is going to take some getting used to.”
“Care to tell me what you were thinking?” Oakheart demanded, his voice creeping up in volume.
She waved a hoof dismissively. “Relax, we got what we wanted, and now, Swan is joining us. Two clouds with one kick.”
He shook his head. “Ms. Flurry, I don’t think you understand the gravity of what you’ve done.”
“I understand perfectly, captain.”
“No, you don’t!” he said with an emphatic stomp. “You undertook the blackwing enchantment voluntarily. Harmony’s laws won’t be able to protect you.”
“It’s alright, captain,” she replied softly. “It’s sweet that you’re worried, but I’ve got this, I just need to…”
Her horn glowed as she reached down to the coiling black mass that infested her magic. It was like several balls of string merged together, the enchantment’s various components a mad tangle of strands. It would only be a matter of removing the right ones to give the impression it was still active.
First things first, she mused, reaching for the strand that acted as the control mechanism for the enchantment. Disabling that would stop Merry from shocking her whenever he pleased. She was going to need it gone if she was going to move on Merry once this was over.
The effect of her magic touching the enchantment was instant. Reacting to her intrusion, the spell quickly summoned a jolt of electricity from her core. It coiled around her body, rippling through her nervous system in agonizing pulses.
“Ms. Flurry…” Oakheart called, his voice suddenly distant.
The pain was intense, like a vice had clamped onto her horn. Her body convulsed as the jolts grew in intensity. She quickly resorted to tugging at the mass wholesale, hoping to rip it out. Yet for each piece she ripped away, a new piece appeared.
She staggered as pain began to flood her senses, her wings and legs tensing unbearably from the electricity pulsing through her body. Her focus was slipping as her body screamed at her to stop.
It was hopeless. She was no magical prodigy like… like Twilight. Brute force was all she knew, and it wasn’t working.
Eventually she had to stop, staggering into Oakheart as her muscles relaxed.
“Ms. Flurry, are you hurt?” he asked, bracing himself against her weight.
“Oookay, this might be a problem.”