//------------------------------// // Dreams of failure // Story: The Blacksmith, The Soldier, The Fool and The Cat // by Cheshire //------------------------------// *Thwack* "Why is my horn hurting?" *BZZAP* *Thud* "Get prisoners back to cells! Bury dead, treat wounded..." Well... Shit... ---- "It's okay, Quickdraw. It's okay," cooed the mare, cradling the lightly sleeping grey colt in her forelegs. A sudden rumbling sounded through the room, causing it to shake lightly. Fixtures rumbled and pictures fell from the walls. Quickdraw snapped awake, shaking in the mare's tightening grip. "Quickdraw... I'm going to put you down... Get behind me," she shakily ordered, her body quivering in fear. She put Quickdraw down on his hooves, the foal nearly bursting into a fresh wave of tears from fear. He ran behind the pegasus mare, gripping her hind leg for comfort and protection. The floorboards groaned, bulging upwards before snapping violently, sending shards of timber flying through the room. The mare screamed, waking the orphanage, as a mid-sized shard lodged itself in her wing. Diamond Dogs appeared from the newly formed holes toting spears and clubs. The grey unicorn colt shook in fear and anger, his horn starting to glow. "No no no no no no NO!" The room shook again, the dogs looked away from the injured mare to see the unicorn foal shining brightly, radiant like the sun, floating in the air. "What is happening? Pony cast spell?" The colt screamed, causing the dogs to hold their ears in pain. A wave of colourless magic washed over the room, heating it to an unbearable temperature. The air shimmered, anything flammable began smoking and the foal's tears steamed as they evaporated in the intense heat. A blast of white light filled the room, demolishing what was left of the floor along with the outer wall. Bodies flew through the air, burning all the while. The screams of the child mixed with the yelps and death-cries of the dogs. Flames licked the holes in the room, lighting the burning corpses with a sickly yellow glow. Quickdraw slowly lowered to the destroyed floor, whispering under his breath. "Never again... Never again..." All the foal knew afterwards was darkness. Another shake. Another hole in the floor and another group of diamond dogs appeared, appalled at the sight before them. "Pony do this? Get him before he wakes." Quickdraw woke slowly. Cold, crying and alone. The mare from the orphanage gone. The cell door, dark and heavy in the shadows of the cave. A low rumbling noise came from the left of the small colt. He rolled over to see a mid-sized gryphon, covered in scars, snoring away next to him. The gryphon snorted and rolled over which caused his beak to bump against the colt's nose. The gryphon woke, his red eyes snapping open to stare into the colt's. "And who might you be, little one?" he grumbled, his breath reeking of alcohol. The colt said nothing. "Oh, a quiet one are you?" The colt shook his head furiously. "Then why aren't you answering?" Quickdraw scooted back, away from the gryphon. "You're scary, mister," he said. "Oh," the gryphon sat up, towering over the young foal. "Sorry kid. Name's Whirlwind Storm. Call me Storm. What's yours?" "Umm... My name's Quickdraw Steele. Nice to meet you," the foal replied, shakily holding out a hoof. Storm grasped the hoof in his large front paw and simply stated, "Pleasure's mine kid." Quickdraw gazed in wonder at the odd forepaw of the gryphon and asked one simple question, "How come your claws are paws Mr. Storm?" Storm's face dropped, long enough for Quickdraw to see his reaction to the question before letting out a huge booming laugh, falling on the floor and hammering it with his enormous paws. "Ahahaha... Whew... That's the hardest I've laughed in ages. I can't believe that a little runt like you would talk to a big scary gryphon like that!" He guffawed, deflecting the question. "W-well I'm from Stalliongrad. There were always plenty of gryphons around," Quickdraw replied, slowly warming up to the enormous bird/lion hybrid. "Oh yeah? I always liked Stalliongrad... Plenty of booze, plenty of crime and plenty of hens. Which area are you from?" "Just on the outskirts. My ma and pa own... used to own... an old blacksmithing hovel," Quickdraw answered, once again tearing up at the mention of his parents. "Oh... OH! I'm sorry kid, I didn't know." Storm drew back slightly, genuinely sorry to have brought up the topic. Quickdraw sniffed. Quietly, he said "It's okay, you couldn't have known." "If you don't mind me asking, how'd they go?" "The investigator said that it was a robber." "Oh..." An awkward silence overcame the two. "So... What is it that we do here?" Quickdraw asked. "The last thing I remember is a bunch of Diamond Dogs, the room being really hot and then nothing." "Well," the gryphon started, unsure on how to word their predicament. "You're right in that it was mutts who got you. Pretty much what happens is that we... Well, we mine for them. Don't ask why, I don't know." Quickdraw lowered his head, the implications of the statement not being missed. "So, I'm a slave?" he asked. The gryphon nodded slowly. And with that, the young foal fell to the floor. Crying. The gryphon warrior took the colt in his large paws and held him close, keeping a silent, diligent watch for anything which might disturb them. ---- Quickdraw awoke to hear a light purring coming from behind his prone form. He craned his neck to find his long-time friend, Whirlwind Storm, cradling him in the gryphon's large, odd paws. He pulled himself out from his friend's grasp, the paws falling to the rough ground with a light thump. The stallion shook his head to keep the memories of his past from flooding to the surface. "That was a long time ago," he said to himself. "We won't be trapped for that long... I hope." --- It had been almost a year since the young grey foal had appeared in Storm's life. Since the first time they'd met in the dank cell they'd bonded. Life in the mines was hard. The mutts were extremely liberal with their whips and had even begun using a few clubs here and there along the tunnels. The beatings were plenty and the food scarce. One night, a few of the other prisoners tried to attack the young stallion, whom they claimed was hoarding food and receiving larger portions. Those prisoners hadn't survived the night. Between Storm's claws and the whips of the dogs, they didn't even stand a chance. As time passed, the repetitive hard labour grew less dull, becoming almost enjoyable for the two friends (Despite the generous lashings). They made the most of it. On one meaningless day during their captivity, they'd broken into a small cave adjoining several others, possibly dug by diamond dogs in the past. It was in this uncovered cave that Storm found a simple artefact. A harmonica, the little tin instrument quickly became a welcome source of entertainment. One of the earth ponies knew how to play, and so he taught the pair a song. He called it Spokey Dokey. The song proved to be an instant hit, the prisoners enjoying every second that it was played for. It wasn't until Quickdraw's fourth year of captivity that anything went incredibly wrong. His 14th birthday had come and gone. They'd just started working on a new tunnel in the lower levels of the mines when they noticed a larger than normal number of injured prisoners being carried past them, their backs covered in oozing gashes. Storm became increasingly worried as time passed. He'd heard that one of the gangers had taken to putting iron barbs in his whip as a sick encouragement tactic. The two silently continued their work, not wishing to incur the wrath of their captors. About two hours passed before the ganger was making his rounds in Storm's area. They'd reached a hardened segment in the tunnel and their progress was slow. The ganger was angry. The whip cracked. Quickdraw screamed as the barbs tore at his back. Storm was mortified. He cried out for Quickdraw. The whip cracked again, tearing lines into the stallion's legs. "STOP! He's just a child, whip me instead!" And again. "He can't take this! I'm twice his size and strength and look! We've barely made a dent in this section!" The whip struck Quickdraw's face, tearing open his left eye, the barbs causing it to burst. Storm's eyes narrowed to pinpricks as flecks of gore splattered against his face. Seeing Quickdraw lose an eye would not stand. He struck, his wing cracking against the ganger's skull. The whip cracked, slashing against Storm's forepaws and was caught in his filthy, matted fur, the barbs pulling and tearing. His claws lashed out, tearing the dog's torso. The dog screamed. Shouts were heard from higher up in the tunnel. It was the guards. They weren't happy. More shouts, the prisoners were coming from the opposite direction. They were going to war, and the two friends were stuck in the middle.