***
Numb, tired, and sodden, Stout Hoof emerged at the far end of the city beneath a starry sky. Night had long since fallen over Stableworth.
The colt frowned at the realization, lifting his wet mane from his eyes.
Stealing away into a random gap in the road, it seemed, had not been the end of his troubles.
He had wandered through the maze of underground tunnels beneath the city for hours, searching blindly for any indication of an exit.
For a while, there had been nothing—just the inescapable cold of the underground stream and the everpresent drip, drip, drip of falling water. His progress had been agonizingly slow. Finally, though—countless turns and stumbles later—he'd come across a glimmer of hope. A faint light had caught his eye, reflecting off the waters of one of the smaller channels that branched off to his side.
Stout Hoof sighed. Who knew how long he would have been down there if he hadn't seen that light?
Shaking the water from his mane in the pale moonlight, he glanced up to study the scene before him.
From what the colt could see, the mouth of the oversized sewer pipe he stood in now lay at the bottom of shallow a ravine in the mountain's shadow. Running past his hooves, murky water poured out over the outflow’s mouth and into a small stream a few hooves below. From there, the gentle current flowed languidly through the rocky soil bed before disappearing around a small bend and into the mountainside itself.
The colt looked up.
Though his view of the sky was partially obscured by the walls of the ravine, he could still make out a streak of stars twinkling above him. Some twenty hooves ahead of him, he could make out a dark rectangle suspended overhead, spanning either side of the shallow divide.
A bridge.
Stout Hoof followed the blocky silhouette with his eyes, squinting through the shadows. Along the edge of the ravine, on the opposite bank, a set of steep stairs had been carved into the stone, leading from the bridge down to the stream below.
The colt shifted, glancing back toward the tunnel he had come from.
If his only other option was to go back the way he'd came...
Stout Hoof cast a wary glance back toward the stairs and the bridge beyond. Crouching down, he watched in silence, making sure there were no other ponies in sight.
Nodding to himself a minute later, he stood, peering out into the ravine as he stepped out from the culvert. His first hoofstep splashed unexpectedly as he broke the surface of the water.
The colt froze, lifting his hoof back up in mid stride. He crouched again. Waited.
Silence.
The colt could feel his shoulders relax. He let out another sigh of relief.
Dipping his other forehoof into the water—more slowly this time—Stout Hoof slowly continued forward, taking care to raise and lower his hooves into the stream as quietly as possible. With his cloak lost somewhere on the other side of the city, he didn’t want to risk letting anypony else see his wingless back again.
Reaching the edge of the stone staircase in a few strides, he gingerly pressed a hoof down on the first step. A crack ran down its center, but it held fast.
Satisfied, the colt put the rest of his weight forward and began making his way up the steps. The ravine wasn't deep—maybe twenty hooves or so, at most.
Clink!
Stout Hoof dropped to his stomach as the sudden clank of shifting armor rang out as he approached the top of the stairwell. Taking care to keep to the shadows, he peeked his head over the top of the last step.
At the far end of the bridge stood two unicorn guards talking quietly in the darkness. Just beyond them, less than a quarter mile off, was a large stone wall that stretched off toward the mountainside in both directions. A second, larger post of guards milled about the gate at its center. Through the metal bars behind them, Stout Hoof could see the soft glow of enchanted streetlights in the city beyond.
Wait. The city?
A bewildered expression passed across the colt's face, his muzzle scrunching in confusion.
He scratched at his head with a hoof.
If the city was on that side of the wall, then where exactly was—
Turning his head back in the direction of the mountainside, the colt's jaw dropped.
Standing not a hundred hooves behind him, the imposing shape of Stableworth castle towered over the awestruck colt, its marble walls glowing an otherworldly white in the moonlight. In the absence of the sun, the stained glass windows on the structure’s sides yawned before him like inky voids, giving the castle the foreboding look of a giant, burnt out lantern.
The colt's eyes widened, his hooves taking an involuntary step back. His mind was racing.
If the guards caught him on this side of the wall... This close to the castle...
The memory of his encounter with the three pegasai from before flashed through his mind.
Glancing back down into the ravine, the colt’s eyes were drawn to the open drain he had emerged from.
He bit his lip.
If he could just make it back down the stairwell without being seen, he could slip back into the sewers and find another way out of the city. It would be a long walk, but it would be better than taking his chances of getting caught here.
He nodded to himself, preparing to make his way back down the staircase. As long as the two guards stayed where they were, it wouldn't be too difficult to sneak back without them noticing.
“Hey, Flint. Flint. Flint Work!"
The colt's eyes widening, he could hear another voice rise up in the night air, a third stallion appearing from the darkness down the road ahead. Stout Hoof could see its silhouette point at one of the two guards with a hoof, its voice gruff and heavy with authority.
Stout Hoof darted back as the new figure's hoof swung back down toward the ravine.
"Flint Work! What’s that outflow down there doing uncovered?”
Lifting his head from the shadows, Stout Hoof peered over the top step a second time. The shouting stallion—a unicorn officer by the look of his long burgundy cape and beard—was staring daggers at the less confident looking guard before him, hoof tapping against his subordinate's chest in frustration.
The second unicorn shrugged sheepishly.
“Oh, um, that? Must’ve forgotten to cover it. A raccoon or something washed up there earlier today. Stank like Tartarus."
He lifted his forelegs up, miming a yanking motion with his hooves.
"It was really stuck in there—couldn't get it out with my magic—so I had to clear it out with—”
A swift hoof to the back of his head stopped the junior guard mid-sentence. The younger stallion took a surprised step back, frowning.
“Hey! What did you do that fo—”
The gruff voice of the older guard cut him off before he could finish.
“What kind of royal guard goes around leaving hatchways open for any foreign sons of cockatrices who might want to come slinking through in the middle of the night, huh?”
The youner unicorn spluttered a few unintelligible syllables in response before his cloaked superior answered his own question.
“A damn fool kind of one, that’s what kind!”
Seething, the older guard cocked his head to the side of the bridge.
“Now get down there and close that damn thing up, Flint. You may be my nephew, but if I catch you putting this post at risk again, I’ll see to it that you’re stationed so far from Stableworth that even your own mother will forget your face!”
With that, the bearded unicorn stormed off toward the gates, cape trailing along the ground behind him. Stout Hoof could see the other of the two bridge guards leave with him, leaving only the unicorn who'd been scolded behind.
Muttering curses under his breath, the younger guard turned on hoof. Hooves clopping against the stonework beneath him, he began to plod down toward the stairwell—right in the direction of Stout Hoof’s hiding place.
"Shhhp!"
The colt’s breath escaped him in an anxious gasp as he glanced around for any sign of cover. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the shadowed walkway before him.
There. Across the bridge. An old weapons cart had been parked along its edge, a long sheet of burlap draped loosely from its side. From where Stout Hoof stood, the narrow space between the floor of the cart and the stonework formed a tight, foal-sized gap, shrouded in darkness behind the hanging fabric.
He nodded to himself.
It was risky, but it would have to do. If he jumped down into the ravine now, the guard would see him right away.
Stout Hoof's eyes shot back down the bridge toward the advancing guard. Still grumbling, the stallion was looking over his shoulder toward the gates, shaking his head back and forth in a mocking impression of his surly superior.
"Look at me, I'm Captain Hardlock the hardass..."
Sensing his opportunity, Stout Hoof crept up over the lip of the stairwell and scurried across the bridge. His flank clipped the underside of the cart as he ducked behind the low hanging fabric.
Instantly the guard’s head swiveled forward, his eyes going wide.
"Oye?"
The colt sucked in his breath, shifting slowly so that he could peer out from the darkness.
The armored unicorn stood poised, his eyes carefully scanning the shadows before him. Slowly—agonizingly so—they passed over Stout Hoof’s hiding place before coming to rest back on the stairwell.
After a moment, the stallion shrugged.
"Eh. Must have been the wind."
Shifting in his armor, the stallion snorted and resumed his slow plod, disappearing over the top step of the staircase, still grumbling. A few moments later, the low hum of magic broke the still air, quickly followed by the heavy clunk of a metal gate falling into place.
The colt’s stomach dropped. He’d just lost his only exit.
Hoofsteps sounded from the stairwell as the younger guard appeared atop the bridge once more. Turning back toward his post at the far end, he lifted his hoof to step forward...and stopped. His gaze fell to his hooves, eyes directed on a set of wet hoofprints sitting before him.
Stout Hoof's eyes widened as he glanced at his own hooves.
Sure enough, they were still damp with water from the tunnels.
Oh buck.
Stout Hoof’s stomach fell even further as the guard’s eyes followed the prints forward, coming to rest on the darkness beneath the cart. A faint blue light shimmered from his horn as a long steel broadsword emerged from the sheath at his side.
“Oye. Who—who’s there?"
Stout Hoof sat still, holding his breath. He didn’t dare move.
Frowning, the guard took another step forward, moving as one with the shimmering weapon floating at his side.
“Who’s there?”
Again, Stout Hoof held his tongue.
As the guard started to move forward—slowly, cautiously—the colt wracked his brain for an idea, any idea, that might give him a way out.
Revealing himself wasn't an option. He couldn’t imagine what they would do to him if he was found on this side of the castle wall. It had been bad enough when they found out he was an earth pony.
Stout Hoof’s legs tensed.
He would have to make a break for it.
Biting his tongue, he glanced toward either side of the bridge. If he could just make it past the first swing of the unicorn’s blade then maybe, just maybe, he could outrun the heavily armored stallion and find a way over the castle walls. The main gate wasn't an option, but maybe there was another way out closer to the mountain itself.
The hairs on his back standing on end, the colt shifted nervously into a crouch, bracing his hind hooves against the wall behind him.
He would have to be quick.
Reaching the edge of the cart, the unicorn guard stopped. His blade hovered at his side, bobbing just out of Stout Hoof's range of vision. Slowly, the colt could see the guard lower his head, bringing it down to ground level.
BA-BOOM!
Without warning, a brilliant explosion of multicolored light lit up the dark sky above the castle, accompanied by a deafening boom that echoed through the night like a thunderclap.
No doubt the fireworks display had been scheduled long in advance to celebrate the King’s return, but to the unsuspecting guard and Stout Hoof, it was if the sky had suddenly decided to burst apart at random. The two jumped at the same time—Stout Hoof beneath the cart, the guard in front of it—their heads swiveling toward the sudden eruption of light and sound.
Stout Hoof recovered a half second before the stallion did. It was all the time he needed. Bolting from beneath the cart, he dove between the forelegs of the awestruck unicorn and ran.
"What the!?"
Grunting in surprise, the confused stallion spun on hoof and let loose with a wobbly telekinetic swing. Though ill aimed, Stout Hoof could still feel the unmistakable wake of the sword as it cut through the air at his back. His spent limbs already aching with fatigue, the colt took off down the bridge as fast as he could manage.
"Oye! Get back here!"
The heavy hoofsteps of the guard falling in behind him with surprising speed, Stout Hoof quickly realized he wouldn't be outrunning this particular unicorn. Setting his sights on another stilled wagon at the bridge's end—a hay cart with a dim lantern hanging loosely from a pole at its side—Stout Hoof swerved and made for the solitary source of cover. His hooves clacked loudly on the stone beneath him.
"Ungh!"
Leaping into the coarse pile of straw, Stout Hoof heard a grunt behind him as the guard took a second swing. This time he could feel a strong tug as half his tail was sheared off by the sharpened edge. However, with his attention focused on the floating blade, the pursuing guard neglected to slow his pace, thudding heavily against the back of the wagon.
Whumph!
With a groan, the wooden cart lurched forward. Wheels snapping the thin pegs that held it in place, it started forward at a steady clip, rolling down the low incline toward the bottom of the hill.
Struggling to right himself in the loose hay, it took Stout Hoof a few moments to lift his head over the lip of the wagon. Glancing back to the rapidly shrinking bridge, he could see the dazed unicorn guard scrambling to his feet as the cart began to pick up speed.
Allowing himself a sigh of relief, the colt turned to face the front of the cart when an unexpected scent caught his nostrils.
He stopped, eyebrow perking up in curiosity.
Smoke? Why was there smoke?
The colt's eyes went wide as a small flame erupted in the dry hay at his side.
Not just smoke. Fire.
Stout Hoof glanced up toward the pole at the front of the cart.
The hanging lantern—apparently—wasn't hanging anymore.
Scrambling to the edge of the hay pile for all he was worth, Stout Hoof didn’t leap so much as throw himself from the edge of the rapidly igniting pyre. Landing with a heavy thud on the hard packed earth, he rolled several times before coming to a stop, dizzily righting himself just in time to hear a loud shout rise up from the direction of the city wall beyond.
Vision swimming, he glanced farther down the hill, watching several guardsponies leap clear of the four-wheeled inferno as it careened wildly toward the metal gates.
CAAAARASSSSH!
A shower of flaming grass erupted into the air on impact, every flammable object in sight promptly bursting into flames.
A moment later, all was chaos.
The deafening sound of fireworks continuing to erupt in the background, Stout Hoof could just make out the shouts of the gate guards as they scrambled in all directions, crying out in various stages of surprise, pain and panic. Above them all, Stout Hoof could make out one particularly gruff, irritated voice, bellowing more loudly than the rest.
“FLIIIINT WORRRRK!”
The colt's ears shrunk against the sides of his head.
Backing cautiously into the tall grass behind him, he turned from the worn cart path, slipping as quietly as his hooves would allow into the mountain’s shadow.
***
By the time the sounds of commotion had died down in Stout Hoof's ears, the fire had become a small blotch in the distance behind him. Surveying the field as he made his way to the far end of the city wall, the colt was astonished by the scope of the castle grounds—he hadn't realized how big they were before. Behind the inner gates there was nearly enough room to house the entire city of Stableworth again, were the lower city to ever fall.
The colt shook his head.
Like that could ever happen, he thought to himself.
Every colt and filly knew Stableworth had held off every attack for the past two centuries. There was little doubt in anypony’s mind that it would stand at least two centuries more.
Looking back from the shrinking fire, Stout Hoof eyed up the last stretch of wall left before him. His face fell as he studied it more closely. Not a single chip or crevice offered the slightest hoofhold, the stonework was as solid and smooth as the castle behind it.
Dropping onto his flanks, Stout Hoof hung his head.
He needed to find a way back. It was only a matter of time until the sun came up and the guards found him. He couldn’t hide forever.
The colt glanced down at his tired body. His bare, brown coat stared back at him, dark streaks of dirt and ash visible even in the dim moonlight. Eventually, his eyes came to rest on the blank patches of fur on his flank.
I’m not even going to live long enough to see my special mark, am I?
The colt dropped to his stomach, holding his head in his hooves as he let out a frustrated sigh.
He should have listened to Steel Wing and gone straight to the courier's station. None of this would have happened if he had.
The colt blinked, a sudden glint of white appearing at the edge of his vision. Shoulders tensing in surprise, he lifted his gaze to the field ahead.
Against the backdrop of the mountain, Stout Hoof could just make out the profile of a small, pony-shaped figure making its way toward the wall, cloaked in black. Two white forelegs protruded from under the fabric of the otherwise shrouded silhouette.
Stout Hoof's ears perked up in alarm.
Another guard?
Hugging the ground, the colt watched cautiously as the figure passed not thirty hooves in front of him. A faint golden aura shimmered around its hooded head and the tall grass seemed to part before it—as if by magic.
The colt held his breath and remained silent. He hadn’t had much luck with unicorns, lately.
Reaching the wall, the specter cast a quick glance in either direction. A moment later, it knelt down at the base of the stone before it…and vanished.
Stout Hoof’s eyes widened.
Glancing around to make sure no other specters were following suit, the colt quietly made his way through the leg high grass to the place where the figure had disappeared.
He glanced around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
His eyes widened.
Had the figure used magic to go through the wall? Or was there some sort of secret passage here, hidden by some sort of spell?
Inspecting the span of stonework before him, Stout Hoof braced himself and lifted a hoof forward.
If the wall was enchanted, he didn't want to be caught off guard by whatever was beyond it.
Wincing, the colt leaned forward, his hoof gingerly meeting the smooth stone.
Solid.
Grunting in disappointment, Stout Hoof fell back onto his flank, prompting a small ring of dust to rise up from the ground beneath him. A look of frustration crossed his face.
“Dumb wall.”
Huffing loudly, he swiped a hoof at the tall grass at the wall’s base. To his surprise, it yielded to his touch, bending as if there was nothing behind it at all.
Raising an eyebrow, Stout Hoof scooted forward and pushed his hoof deeper into the brush. Where it should have met stone, it was instead greeted with the nothingness of empty space.
His expression immediately brightened.
A tunnel!
Brushing aside the grass, a roughly shaped hole—more of a crack in the stone really—appeared at the colt's hooves. Moonlight from the other side of the wall filtered in through the small opening.
Stout Hoof crouched forward, inspecting the small gap. It would be a tight fit, even for him, but he could probably manage.
Sparing one last glance toward the castle, Stout Hoof started forward, disappearing into the crevice as the figure had done. Unsure what he would find on the other side, he pressed on, making for the faint shimmer of beckoning moonlight.
***