//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 - The Interrogation // Story: The Toll of Clockwork Tower // by Faindragon //------------------------------// The sound of my hooves connecting with the marble floor echoed softly in the hallway as I walked down them. Walls, created in velvet-blue stone with spiderweb-like veins of silver running through them, continued on for as long as my eyes could see. Looking back, I could see the same thing. Walls, continuing for what seemed like eternity. Looking up, I could see the stars shining down at me from the night sky. Thin wisps of fog escaped my mouth with every breath, but I couldn’t feel the cold against my coat. It was simply as if it wasn’t there, like it left me alone. How long have I been here? I asked myself as I took a deep breath, the crisp night air filling my lungs. Does it matter?  No, it doesn’t, I concluded as I continued walking, nothing but the blue moon illuminating my way. Walking down the hallway, I soon lost track of how long I had been here. It never changed, only going straight forward without any decorations or ornaments, nothing that I could use to orientate me. It’s like I’m walking on the same spot. Barely had the thought passed my mind before the hallway shifted, widened into a room. Windows appeared on the walls, allowing the moonlight to shine in. Below me, the floor shifted as well, and I watched in amazement as it turned into darker blue; the color of a midnight sky. Shining dots of white appeared all over the floor, building up the star constellations that you could see a clear night. Shouldn’t I be confused? I thought with a smile, my eyes walking from constellation to constellation. It was as if I had expected something like this to happen. “Dost thou take pleasure bathing in my night?” I looked up as the voice, soft as winter snow, spoke. In the middle of the room had a throne appeared. Upon it sat an azure-coated mare, looking down at me with calm, cyan eyes and a serene smile. A black crown, formed like a crescent moon and ornated with blue and white jewels, rested lightly on her horn. For a moment I just stood there, looking at her in awe. Then, instinctively, I kneeled and looked down in the floor. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” A ringing laughter interrupted my stuttering. With the soft touch of her feathery wing she turned my head upwards. "Stand tall, Clockwork. Thou hast nought to fear of me. No danger shall find thee in this safest of places." I smiled as she removed her wing from my chin and I rose again. “I... what is this place? I’ve never seen anything like it.” She took a step back, motioning with her wing to the room. “Throughout every era, this place hath cultivated a different purpose and meaning for those who have lived life in the presence of such a place. Oldest of civilisations did once possess belief of here being a place of the visionary. It hath been a place of foresight. A lone tribe of lone unicorn, long departed, they were once the forerunners to bestoweth the land a name and title. Tel'aran'rhiod, The Land of the Unseen. Hereon in, this land possesseth a name of simpler terms.” She smiled as she returned her gaze to me. "This is but a reverie." “A... dream?” I looked around the room again, noting the small shiftings in the walls and floor that seemed so natural. “So, I’m asleep.” I looked back at her. "Thou art," she said with a nod. “And... then who are you? My vision? My test?” She laughed sadly."It brings me a wound to find that my legacy hath had been let to depart from this lifetime." She shook her head with the ghost of a smile. "Alas nay, I am neither test nor vision. I am Luna, Deity of the Night, Guardian of thy Reveries." I resisted the urge to kneel again under her regal tone and the weight of her words, instead taking a step back. “A... A goddess?” I stuttered. “What’s a goddess doing in—” The pain of the searing hot iron pressing against my bare chest caused me to howl in pain. With tears running down my cheeks I struggled against the chains that held me shackled to the wall, trying to escape the iron as the howling turned into a painful rasp in my dry throat. Then, after hours or seconds I couldn’t say, the metal was removed again and my head was forcefully turned upright. Through teary eyes I could see the green eyes of my torturer. He shoved a water pouch into my mouth, emptying it without a care in the world whether I drank or not. I drank greedily of the lukewarm water, every mouthful bringing some relief to my hurting throat. Some of the water I couldn’t drink ran down my neck and touched the fresh branding on my chest with a sizzling sound, causing me to wheeze and nearly choke on the water still in my throat. “Where is it?” he sneered, his foul breath reaching my nostrils. He removed the pouch to let me speak. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice rasp. With a stock laugh the stallion released my mane and rammed his hoof where the iron had been just a few seconds ago. The pain was overwhelming, stronger than it had been when he pressed the iron to my chest. My sight nearly went black and my body turned limp, the only thing keeping me upright being the chains. “You know very well what I’m—” He took a quick step back as I sickened up, before his voice turned into a low growl. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.” “I don’t even know what they want,” I whispered, my eyes following the star constellation on the floor. “Thou doth not require fear, Clockwork,” Luna crooned softly, gently stroking my back with one of her wings. “The wounding over thy form only brings pain if let. Thy memories bring greater injury than wounds.” Carefully she raised my head until our eyes met. “Vest in me." She smiled sadly at me. "Forbid further wounding of thyself." “Why are they doing this to me?” I could feel the tears forming in my eyes again. “What do they want?” "I do desire an answer—” She sighed, her sad smile vanishing, and wiped away a tear from my cheek with the other wingtip. “—but I do not possess one.” I pushed away her wing and looked down at my hooves. “Then what should I do?” My legs were free of chafes, the coat as well-kept as it had been before my imprisonment. It was as if it had never happened. I looked up at her again. “Was it real?” She hesitated for a moment, before she looked sadly at me. "I fear it be. This”—she motioned towards my legs—”is thy mind defending thee.  Within, thou comes to terms thou can no longer dwell inside. Thou must endure with no effort to re-mind thee about it all. Therein lies your mirrors. Protection and sanctuary from thy wounding it doth give.” “So that’s what I should do? Just accept it and not think about it?” My eyes followed the water drop as it dripped from the roof and into the small pool that had formed on the cold stone floor of the cell. Three hundred and ninety-four. The cell I had been placed in was small; if I walked from wall to wall I would have to turn around every three step, if I was lucky. The only opening out of the cell was the iron fitted door. There wasn’t any windows on the walls to let in the light or sound of the outside world, and for all I knew it could be the middle of the night. With a sigh I rolled over on the bunk bed and looked down in the pool. Looking back at me with a grim smile was a ravaged face. My mane was unkempt and in need of a washing, as was my coat. Even if the cell was cold and I had nothing but a thin blanket and the clothes on my body to warm myself with, I could clearly see pearls of sweat on my brow. I quickly shifted forward and started unbuttoning my shirt. One thing I had learned quickly was to not try and use magic; even the slightest trace would trigger the small, locked ring around my horn, sending a jolt of pain through my body. So instead I started fumbling with my hooves. As soon as I had gotten the last button undone, I pulled the shirt over my head and watched my reflection in the pool. The coat on my chest was, just like it was on my legs, free from any traces of the torture. Was it all a dream? I asked myself as I with a hoof poked the pool, causing small ripples to distort the surface. A nightmare? Slowly the ripples died out on the water surface, and once again I found myself looking down at myself. With a last look over my smooth, branding-less chest I started fumbling with the buttons again. Traces or not, I thought as a water drop hit the newly calmed down surface. It happened. I know what they did to me. But... why? The sound of ironclad hoofsteps stopping outside my door made me look up. “Food,” came the gruff voice of a stallion from the other side as a small hatch opened and a tray was pushed into the room. I followed the tray with my eyes as it slid to a stop in the middle of the small pool of water just below me. The food was a bowl of something that resembled mud, completed with a morsel of bread, looking dry enough to be used as a weapon, and a chipped glass of water. The water was as mud-like as the mush in the bowl. With a sigh I rose completely from the bed and lowered my head to smell on the food. At least it doesn’t smell of anything, I thought bitterly as I took a warily bite of the food. What it lacked in smell it made up for in taste, however, and I quickly spat out the mouthful again. I’d rather starve. I pushed away the tray, suppressing the urge to kick it into the wall, before I jumped up onto the bed again. My stomach growled, not agreeing with my choice, but I ignored it and turned my back to the food. Nothing would make me eat that. I hadn’t been lying like that, staring into the wall, for very long before a quiet sound, barely loud enough for me to hear, reached my ears. As the sound grew louder, I turned around and looked over my shoulder. The cell was as empty as it had been since I had been thrown here, but still the tapping sound could be clearly heard. Confused I turned around on the bunk bed, but still I couldn’t see anything in the cell. Not only that, but the sound had disappeared again. Is my mind playing tricks with me? I thought as I looked around the empty cell. Just as I was about to turn back around, the tapping sound returned and something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Surprised I looked down at the tray and the small, white mouse standing on it. It was skinny, and as it stood against the bowl, steadying itself with its small paws and curiously sniffing at the mud-like mush, I could see its small bones through the skin. Fascinated, I looked at it as it lowered its head closer, nearly tipping into the bowl. It quickly withdrew its head and fell down on its haunches, coughing and, seemingly in panic, removing every trace of the mush from its nose with its small paws. “Not very good, was it?” I said softly, so as not to scare it. At the sound of my voice, it froze completely, before it turned its head around to look at me with big eyes, mush still stuck in its whiskers. “I didn’t like it either.” It blinked slowly, before it took a few, curious steps towards me, sniffing in the air. With the ghost of a smile, I lowered a hoof down to the floor. “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered. “I won’t hurt you.” I looked at it as it took the last couple of steps to my hoof, raising its head to sniff at it. Then, to my surprise, it jumped onto my hoof and scampered up my leg. Its small paws and whiskers tickled as it walked down my side. Carefully so that I wouldn’t disturb or scare it, I turned my head and looked at it. As if it felt my eyes, it turned around and ran back to my head. For a moment it stood completely still there, looking at me with its brown eyes, before it ran down my leg onto the floor again. Smiling, I looked after it as it disappeared through a small hole in the wall. Will I see it again? I asked myself, without taking my eyes from where the mouse had vanished.  “As I’ve said for the last couple of days, Clockwork. That’s impossible.” Falk leaned back in his chair, his cold eyes not leaving me. “Torture is prohibited by law; not even Celestia can order it to be carried out.” He sighed. “Your new situation is simply taking the better out of you.” I blinked in the strong sunlight shining through the windows behind the pegasus sitting behind the desk. My eyes darted from side to side. How did I get here? It was the same, familiar office. To my right was the showcases, displaying various weapons and medals. Bookcases stood to my left, the books and scrolls lying in perfect order, framed in by a few decorations. Behind the mahogany desk, placed between the two giant windows with outlook of the city, was a painting of Falk himself, clad in the captain’s armor. Under the painting were a small sigil, The Canterlot Sigil, infused in the stone. “Don’t worry, Clockwork.” He smiled genuinely at me as I returned my eyes to him. “In a couple of days you should be as sound as a bell again.” His smile turned more grim. “Hopefully in time for your trial. I mean, sure: with Officer Shining Armor’s witnessing we’ve every evidence we need to have you hanged for murder, but...” He didn’t finish the sentence. Suddenly it felt as if my throat tightened, as if the noose were already hanging around my neck. I gulped and brought up a hoof, and the feeling quickly disappeared. “H...Hanged?” I stuttered. “I-I—” He silenced me with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you were familiar with the punishment for the crime you carried out.” “I didn’t kill him!” I cried out. “I would never do that, I... I.” “You can save your lie for the court.” He waved a bandaged hoof towards me before he leaned forward. “Or we could come to an... agreement.” I blinked and looked up at him. “W-what kind of agreement?” He rose from his cushion with a sigh, slowly starting to walk back and forth with a frown. “It pains me, offering something like this to a criminal, Clockwork, but in times like this...” He looked at me for a moment, before he nodded to himself and, under his breath, added, “The end justifies the means.” Before I could ask him what he meant, he continued. “I’m going to be frank with you. Equestria stands before a crisis worse than anything we’ve ever faced before. A few months ago we received reports about a sect, hiding in the sewers where they’re worshipping the mythical being Nightmare Moon.” He snorted. “Of course, Nightmare Moon is just a tale mothers scare their foals with to make them behave, but nevertheless our Princess ordered measures to be taken against you.” “R-righ, but—” “Did I give you permission to speak?!” he sneered, snapping his head towards me. I shrunk down in the cushion, and he continued. “Now, normally I would just let our scouts search the sewers. As long as we don’t take any action against the gangs, they usually leave us alone for fear of retribution. Unfortunately for us, but luckily for you, we can’t do that this time. A few weeks after the first reports had arrived, it was discovered that somepony had stolen a small artifact from the royal archives. A small object, not bigger than it would fit in your hoof, with unknown magical properties was missing. Due to the nature of the artifacts kept sealed inside the archives, Celestia has ordered the guards to find the shard and, if necessary, wipe out the sect, no matter what the cost.” He smiled at me. “And that’s where you come into the picture.” I looked down into the desk. “What do you want me to do?” I mumbled. “You can end it at any time,” the torturer snarled in my ear, his foul breath hitting my nostrils. “Just tell me what I want to know, and this will all be over.” I could feel the blood stream from multiple small cuts, all caused by the crude knife. Tears ran down my cheeks, blended together with the blood on the floor, and every uneven breath I took felt as if someone carved up my dry throat. I would’ve sicked up, had I had anything to do so with. “I-I don’t know—” I whimpered. I cried out in pain as the knife cut into my body again, causing yet another long, shallow incision. “Wrong answer,” he whispered sweetly and released my mane. “But I’m sure I’ll soon get you to speak.” I heard him walk away from me, and soon the sound of a sizzle reached my ears. “I’m going to enjoy this.” “Please,” I begged and looked up. My head was heavy and I could barely hold it upright. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know where this—” My head was thrown to the side as he interrupted me with a hard blow with his hoof. Disoriented, I could feel how he turned my head up, and I once again found myself looking into his green eyes. “Oh, but I think you do,” he whispered with a smile. “And you will tell me, sooner”—his smile widened as he pushed the searing iron to my chest—”or later.” I squirmed against my shackles in a feeble attempt to escape the candescent iron. As the smell of burnt hair reached my nostrils, my whimpering howls of pain twisted into sharp, painful coughs. Just as my vision threatened to turn black, he removed the iron and gently ran a hoof over the fresh branding. However gentle the touch might have been, it still caused me to take a sharp breath from the pain that shot through my body. “Do you know how it feels to have the cold edge of a knife slowly cutting through a fresh branding?” I could see his smile through my teary eyes. “Quite an unpleasant feeling.” He chuckled. “Or, so I’ve heard.” I gasped in pain as he placed the edge against the mark on my chest, the coat standing on my chest. “Maybe you can tell me?” “I-I don’t know where—” I whimpered between breaths. Maybe it never happened. My eyes followed the even, smooth coat that covered my leg. The marks of the knife I had felt cutting into my skin was nowhere to be seen, nor could I see any traces of the blood that had been running down it. It happened! I snarled to myself. I know it did, I can still feel it burning. With all strength I could muster, I smashed the leg in the wall. So why don’t I have any marks from it?! I looked at my hoof again, praying that I would see the traces of my torture. When I didn’t, I let it fall down again with a sigh. Like that would’ve helped, I thought bitterly. Maybe Luna was right. Maybe I should not thi— The feeling of something bumping against my hoof, followed by a light peep, tore me out of my thinking. “Already fetched it, boy?” With the ghost of a smile I looked down at the small mouse and the wooden spool he had pushed to me. Or... at least I think you’re a boy. He looked up at me with intelligent eyes, and for a moment I could swear that he nodded. “Want me to throw it again?” I didn’t wait for him to answer before I flicked it away. Before it had even landed, the mouse darted after it, peeping happily. I looked after him as he reached it and, although it would be much easier for him to push it with his head, started pushing the larger spool with his paws. For a moment I just lay there, looking at him struggling, before my growling stomach made itself reminded. Shaking my head, I looked down at the floor and, with effort, rolled off the small bed. The tray lay in the middle of the pool where it had stopped when it was pushed into the cell.  Looking down at the mud-like mush in the bowl, I wondered if I had been sleeping when it had arrived or just hadn’t noticed it. I pushed it away from the pool with a grimace. If it tasted bad before... I thought as I lowered my head to smell on the food. With a shiver I took a bite of it, forcing myself to swallow it instead of spitting it out. After five bites, barely half of the bowl, I couldn’t make myself eat more and quickly emptied the glass of water, trying to get rid of the horrible after taste. A small peep caused me to look down at the mouse, who had now abandoned the spool and instead sniffed curiously at the slice of bread lying on the trail. “You want a piece, boy?” I asked and carefully reached forth a hoof and chipped off a corner for him. “It’s no better than yesterday’s, I can promise you that.” He sat down on his haunches and lifted the crumb to eye-level, twisting it and looking at it from every angle possible. Then, without a second thought, he pushed it into his mouth. I chuckled gently and gave him a gentle path on his back as he coughed it up again. “See? No better.” For a moment I sat completely still, the only thing moving being the small mouse next to me as he dug out the last traces of the crumb from his mouth. Then he ran for the spool again, and as my gaze followed him I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the pool of water. I slowly rose and walked up to it, looking down at the reflective surface. My own reflection looked back at me with tired eyes. Under the skin in my meager face the bones were clearly visible, and beads of sweat were clearly visible on my brow. At places my unkempt mane had stuck to the sweat. As I touched my reflection with a hoof, a ripple spread over the surface and completely distorted the image. With a flick of my hoof I splashed some of the lukewarm water in my face, tried to get away as much of the grim and dirt as possible. The sound of the door opening behind me made me snap my head up. No. It... it. My heart raced, the sound of the blood pumping through my ears drowning out every other sound. I slowly twisted my head back to look at the door. In the opening stood a guard. Before I could blink had I pushed myself against the cold wall as far away from the door as possible; my breath heavy in my flaring nostrils. “Please, no more,” I begged and shrank down, covering my head with my hooves. I could hear a grim laugh being cut off by the door closing. “Please.” I sat like that, shivering but otherwise not moving a muscle, for a full minute before I realized that nopony came for me. No hooves had been wrapping around me to drag me towards the torture chamber, no rope had been lashed around my muzzle to keep me silent and no shred had been placed over my eyes so that I wouldn’t see. Removing my hooves from my head, I slowly looked up. Standing in the middle of the room, clad in the sun guards armor with the helmet on the floor and awkwardly looking at anything but me, stood Shining Armor. I just stared at him, unable to look away. He was pale, even for a white unicorn, and looked around with rheumy eyes. As if he could feel my eyes on himself, he shuddered and looked at me. For a moment he met my eyes, opening his mouth as to speak. As no words came out, he closed it again and looked away from me. As the time passed and he hadn’t made any movements towards me, both my heart and breathing slowed down to a regular pace. Slowly I rose into a more comfortable position, still not moving from the corner or taking my eyes from him. With a heavy sigh he sat down on his haunches. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, before he looked up at me. “I... for everything. For what they are doing against you...” I just stared at him as he spoke, so fast that I barely caught his words. Did he just?... “It’s true, then?” I said lowly. He looked at me as if I had hit him in the face with a hammer, his mouth still opened as the words died on his lips. “It really happened? The torture?” He closed his mouth and nodded slowly. “Then why aren’t there any marks on me?!” My yelling ended in a cough. “I can remember it happening. Always the same question before I pass out. Where is it? But when I wake up, it’s like it was nothing but a nightmare. So why can’t I see any wounds or brandings?!” Biting his lip he looked back at the door, before he looked at me again, shushing me. “I’ll tell you, just... keep it down so the guard on duty won’t hear.” As I didn’t say anything, he continued. “That’s... that’s how he does it. The torture is carried out behind closed doors, and once the session is... finished your wounds are patched up magically.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s a torture both physical and mental, and...” He trailed off as he looked up and met my eyes. “I’m sorry. I never thought that...” He trailed off, and for a moment we just sat there. “Falk... he said that it was illegal. That not even Celestia herself could order it to be carried out,” I whispered, breaking the silence that had grew between us. “Or was that also a way to make me doubt myself?” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, he said the truth. It is against the law, and have been for the last five hundred years. Ever since Celestia herself banned it in an outrage.” He shuddered. “But then...” I trailed off. “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” he said with the ghost of a smile. The smile soon disappeared. “Sorry. That... was a thing my sister use to bug me about.” He sighed. “Who will guard the guardians? Most likely something she’s found in a book. What I try to say is that Falk hides what’s going on for Celestia, but...” He looked away. “He’s desperate. We all are. With this sect on our hooves and Celestia getting more and more edgy for each day passing... Falk have to fix this situation, and that quickly.” I barely listened to what he said. He keeps it away from Celestia. The captain of the Royal Guards... “And no one does anything to stop it?” He blinked and looked up at me. “We’re doing everything we can to stop the sect, and Falk believes...” I must’ve looked confused, because he trailed off and blinked again. “You meant about your torture?” He slowly shook his head as I nodded. “Both Quillion and I have tried. After she tried to convince the captain that he had the wrong pony, just before you got to the bar... I started doubt what I had seen myself. I mean... I saw you standing over the body with the bloody knife, but now...” he trailed off again. “I didn’t kill him,” I whispered. “The captain is firm in his belief that you did. He also believes that you were a part of it. But after hearing what Quillion said, I’ve started to realize that I could’ve been wrong. Maybe you didn’t pick up the knife to stab him again. Maybe you told her the truth with that you had recognized the knife and—” “Part of what?” I interrupted him and got on my hooves, my voice shrill. “Part of what?!” He bit his lower lip and looked away. I heard the door opening behind him. “Clockwork,”—the Captain sighed and leaned back from the table, gently rubbing his own temples. —“Clockwork, Clockwork, Clockwork. Listen to yourself. Don’t you understand what your mind is trying to do? It wants to trick you, Clockwork. Trick you into thinking that I would order you to be tortured. I’m afraid it was simply a dream.” He shook his head with a sad smile. “Besides, what could I possibly gain by torturing you? The truth?” He laughed. “I don’t need to hear you confess the murder of Pendulum, despite what your dream told you. Shining Armor knows what he saw and will be witnessing against you at the trial.” His smile turned grim as he leaned forward again. “That is, of course, unless you’ve changed your mind about our little... agreement.” For a moment I met his amused gaze, before I looked down at the table, fiddling with my hooves. “I-I don’t.... I don’t know where—” I stuttered. “Oh, but I believe you do,” Falk interrupted me with soft voiced. He placed his front hooves on the desk and stood up, glaring down at me with hard eyes, continuing with a voice as soft as before. “You see, I know about you.” He mock sighed. “I understand that it must’ve been hard for you, receiving the orders to kill Pendulum. Was it fierce loyalty for your cause that made you go through with it, or were you simply afraid about what the punishment had been had you not?” He shook his head. “And look at you now. Imprisoned and on your way to the gallows, without any sign of help being on it’s way.” For each word I shrank deeper into the cushion, my eyes growing wide. I shook my head. “I... I’m not part of any sect! I didn’t kill him! I’ve nothing to d—” “Your friend Spot said otherwise.” The words were like a hammer blow and my protests died on my tongue. He smiled sadly as he sat down again. “He stressed that you had only followed orders when you killed Pendulum. Maybe he thought you it would help you get away easier.” He paused. “Or maybe he knew very well that it would only make things worse.” He shrugged. “Of course, I don’t take the words of a crim—” I just stared at him, the heart sinking in my breast for every word. “Spot would never...” I trailed off. He betrayed me, why wouldn’t he tell a lie like that? I blinked. Why would he? Falk raised an eyebrow in disapproval, before he started over as if I hadn’t said anything. “Of course, I don’t take the words of a criminal as truth. But I’ve had some of my stallions looking into it since the day you killed Pendulum, and the results were,”—he paused and motioned towards a thin file lying on the table. —”fascinating. Turns out your friend was right about you.” He went silent, and for a moment we just sat there in silence. As I looked down in the table again, he continued. “But desperate times calls for desperate means. However much it pains me, I’m prepared to buy the information of you.” He jerked my head up with a wingtip until our eye met. “You tell me what I want, and not only will I release you: I’ll also burn this file and everything else we got on you. You’ll be a free stallion, without sins from the past.” He smiled as he let my head go. “Think about it. You could start over again, without ever having to think about this again.” “Resist it, Clockwork,” Luna urged me softly. “It can only hurt you if you allow it to.” Her wings were loosely draped around me, the tips barely connecting over my back. Even now, with my heart racing and my body shaking, I could feel her concerned gaze looking down at me. Velvet light, tinged purple by her feathers, illuminated the marks over my body. “It’s.... It can’t,” I stuttered, my eyes darting across the cuts and burns over my legs. With a trembling hoof I pushed up the sleeve on one of my legs all the way up. For every revealed mark it felt like I was going through it again. The pain from the cuts and the searing from the brandings jolted through my body. Even when the tears ran down my cheeks and my breaths came heavy and irregular, I continued, revealing mark after mark from the torture. “It can, as long as you allow it to happen,” she murmured sadly, gently stroking me with one wingtip. “You’re in control of it, Clockwork. No one else.” My eyes darted between the marks, before I finally looked up at her. “W-what can I do?” I stuttered and looked up at her. “You can tell me where you hid it,” the torturer hissed at me, slowly withdrawing the iron from my left leg. Suddenly I could feel the pain from the fresh branding spread through my body. A howl escaped my throat as my eyes shot wide open. I could feel how the cold iron holding my head to the table cut into my neck as I thrashed against the shackles. With a cold laugh he put down the still-hot iron to rest on the manacle that keept my freshly branded leg chained to the table, the glowing tip pointing straight towards my eye. I could feel my body turn cold as I froze, the eye I could see it with staring at the iron. “You know,” he started, and behind me I could hear how he picked something up. “When the order to get the information out of you came, I couldn’t do anything but jump at the opportunity. After all, as master,”—he drove the new iron into my back—“as apprentice.” He chuckled as he twisted it a full turn. “So far, you haven’t disappointed.” “I’ve told you, Clockwork,” Luna sneered and leaned back in the cushion, glaring disapprovingly at me. “The torture is nothing but your mind taking the better out of you. It. Never. Happened!” “You have to fight against it, Clockwork,” she mumbled softly, her worried eyes wandered between me and the table I was shackled to. “I know that it’s hard, but you have to.” “Why can’t I just tell them what they want to hear?” I snuffled. “I’ll tell them anything they want to hear.” “Then tell me, Clockwork.” She was suddenly behind me, her foul breath reaching my nostrils. “Tell me what I want to hear. Where is the shard?” Falk sighed and rose from the cushion opposite the table, slowly walking around until he could place a wing over my shoulder. “It’ll be alright, my boy. Just keep fighting, and one day your body will win over the mind and banish these nightmares.” He patted my freshly branded leg. “Despite what you think about me, I care about those under my guard, even if they’re facing the gallows in less than a week’s time. Should the nightmares return tonight, feel free to come back tomorrow again.” I looked at the small mouse as he sat on my wound-free chest, looking at me with big eyes. “Hey little buddy,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. He moved closer to my head, sniffing curiously in the air, until he stood with his paws on my nose, gazing into my eyes. He squeaked sadly as he punched my muzzle. “I know, I know. But I can’t. Please. Let it end.” “You can end it at any moment,” the torturer wheezed, putting more of his body-weight on my shoulder. “Unlike with your master, I’ve all the time in the world to get the information we want from you.” He laughed as my shoulder snapped loudly, causing me to scream in pain. “The only one that lose on you not talking is you.” “Ssssh,” Luna hummed silently, the sound barely anything but her chest vibrating under my ear. “It’s over.” She draped her wings closer over me and lowered her head to my ear. “Thank you.” Looking up, I met the gaze of a being from legends. A mare that mothers used to scare their children into behaving. Nightmare Moon.