Equestria's Most Wanted
Chapter 3 - A Mage Meeting Many Marvelous Morons
By Wil_I_Zin
Edited by BradtheBrony and AuthorGenesis
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The countryside of Equestria was a thing of picturesque beauty. Rolling hills filled with fields of wheat and trees, all lush with an abundance of food delivering a smell of fresh fruit and grain for miles. From nearly every angle, you could have a magnificent view looking out over the farmlands and call it picturesque. A beautiful sight for any traveler passing through the area, to be sure. However, this was not how a certain pair of travelers saw the bucolic environment surrounding them.
A lone mare pulled a cart near the wooded edge of the Everfree Forest. The trees were spread far enough apart that you could see a fair distance, but were still bunched close enough together that it would hide anyone walking among them. And it was through this forested greenery that the mare dragged along her captured quarry, leading him to ask repeatedly the age old question that has been asked by any traveling companion.
“Are we there yet?” asked the human trapped within the confines of a cage far too small to be comfortable for one of his size. His captor chose to ignore his questioning, which she had already been doing for the past hour. She only bothered to give a short glance back at him, probably to be sure he hadn’t escaped his confinement.
The mare was a pegasus with a light tan coat hidden by a full body suit of leather-like armor. Her haggard orangish-brown mane had not seen a stylist in years, with many split ends and frayed strands of hair. Her light green eyes was sharp, keen and stern with crows-feet at the outer edge of her eyes. She looked to be the sort of person who lived and survived on their own, and would probably beat your teeth in if you gave her an excuse.
“Ugh, come onnnnnn,” groaned the Mage. “We’ve been traveling for hours! Shouldn’t we be back in Ponyville already?” The Mage was getting restless hunched over in his small enclosure. He had been stripped of nearly all his clothes and tools—the Mage thanked whatever deity was watching that the bounty hunter hadn’t taken his boxers—which were now in a bag hanging on the pegasus’ side. His bare skin rubbed against the metal platform and bars of the cage, sending chills through his body and leaving him sore. Though it was just a dull soreness in comparison to what he’d been through in the past forty eight hours. And the tedium of cramped sitting was just icing on the cake.
“Heh,” snorted his captor, “What makes you think I’d take you back there?” The Mage was surprised that he finally got a response, but was confused by her words.
“You know, Ponyville? The city I was just in?” he elaborated. “The one with all the guards and the purple pony princess who wants to personally pummel my pretty self?” The Mage thought himself clever for his use of alliteration. “And didn’t you say yourself that you were going to take me there?”
“And lose my biggest catch?” responded the bounty hunter. “Like I’d let them just waltz up and confiscate my paycheck with happy smiles and a pat on the back.” The mare snorted and started pulling the cart with gusto. “No, if they want you, they’re gonna shell out big time, and they’ll do it on my terms. So we’re taking a small detour first.”
The Mage took a moment to ponder her words before responding, “I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve been burned on a bounty?” The mare only snorted in response and continued onward. “Glad to know you care so much about me,” the Mage quipped.
Up ahead of them, the trees began to thin out and an outpost could be seen in the distance. The place was surrounded by a tall wooden wall, and a single watchtower could be seen overlooking the roadside. It didn’t look to be too large of a settlement, it was more in likeness to a rest stop. And it seemed to be their destination as the mare halted when the location came into view.
The bounty hunter unhitched herself from the cart and then pushed it back amongst some shrubbery. She took careful consideration to be sure the wheels, while still covered, were not impeded from movement. After locking the wheels in place she threw a blanket over the cage, shrouding the Mage in near darkness.
“What, leaving me here all by my lonesome? Aren’t you afraid I’ll escape?” taunted the Mage from his now hidden abode.
“You’re welcome to try,” the mare flatly responded, “but that cage is made of thumanite. Magic is useless if you’re trapped in there, and you don’t look smart enough to pick a lock or strong enough to bash it down.”
“Well, appearances can be deceiving,” the Mage teased back, a hint of swagger in his voice.
The bounty hunter only snarked in response, “Yeah, good thing you’re as bad a bluffer as a Manehattenite in a Las Pegasus casino.”
The Mage paused in bewilderment before asking, “... You guys have casinos?” The mare chose not to respond to his question and instead secured her belongings before trotting away. Her hoofbeats slowly dissipated into the distance towards the outpost until only the sounds of nature remained. “I guess I’ll just wait here then,” mumbled the Mage to himself. He shifted his feet, attempting to relieve the cramped sensation which had been growing in his legs since he woke up in his cell, but he had very little room to maneuver into a more comfortable position, denying him his relief. He wondered if this was going to have a permanent impact on his spine, possibly leaving him with a constant hunched back and a penchant for living in bell towers.
The Mage sat staring at the lock on his cage: it was a simple classic keyhole lock, nothing remarkable stood out about it at all. In fact, you could say it was the most unremarkable lock in existence. Most likely so dull that its very creation put its own locksmith to sleep a mere half-dozen times before its completion. The mare had said that the whole cage was magic proof, but the Mage wasn’t so sure that it was human magic proof. He put his hand to the entirely boring lock and concentrated in his mind to manually release the lock with telekinesis. He envisioned the tumblers and the sliders all moving perfectly in sync until the lock sprang free, allowing him to open the door unabated. Unfortunately, all that happened was a big fat nothing. Every attempt was a failure, with the Mage only succeeding in aggravating himself further.
Confused as to the specific reason for his failure, the Mage paused a moment, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, they radiated a shimmering blue. If you were to gaze into his eyes at that moment you’d swear you were seeing energy itself pouring out from his retinas. He looked around his confines for a brief moment, then he scrutinized the ceiling and the floor before giving one long last look at the lock and then closed his eyes once again.
“Crap,” he groaned “The entire thing is a gigantic mana trap.” The Mage knew he was now really in quite the predicament. There was no way he could use any magic inside his cell, or even try to affect something outside without the cage gobbling up his magic faster than a group of starving orphans given full access to an all you can eat buffet. The Mage slumped back in defeated annoyance, or at least as much as his confines would allow. But before he could think of anything else, the Mage felt a curious poking sensation on his back.
Spinning himself around to see what it was—which was a feat that was akin to body contortion—the Mage discovered it was a branch poking out from under the blanket covering the cage. It must have gotten there when the bounty hunter was pushing the cart into the shrubbery, he thought. The Mage pulled the stick out from it’s poking position and used it to slowly lift the cover which was hiding him.
From what the Mage could tell, he had been thoroughly covered by branches and boughs which gave his cage a good deal of camouflage. While he could reach out of the bars a little ways, there was nothing within his grasp that wasn’t wood or leaf related. Grabbing another skinnier branch, the Mage attempted to pick the lock on his cage. Unfortunately with no idea of what he was doing, the Mage just ended up with a broken stick and a sour look on his face. He tossed the branch aside and started brainstorming a possible solution to his dilemma, but before he could even begin, he caught the small shape of something near his hidden confines.
On the ground not more than three feet from his cage was a long, sharp stone which sat on the grassy floor. It was way out of his reach, and if he tried to telekinetically pull it over the cage would just absorb his mana like it did last time. However, it was that exact thought that gave the Mage an idea. He reached out of his cage and began gathering all the branches and sticks that he could. In the back of his mind he just hoped that he could escape before the bounty hunter mare returned. She didn’t strike him as the most gentle person.
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“You wanna call me ‘sweet cheeks’ again? Huh!?” shouted the bounty hunter mare who currently had a battered stallion in a headlock.
“Ah! Ahm swaawyy!” slurred the stallion as he suffered from a swollen lip and a few missing teeth. The surroundings of the local outpost’s pub were a mess. Not that they were ever in a state of cleanliness to begin with, but the broken chairs, a table split down the center, and three stallions all in various stages of consciousness and pain littered about did nothing for the decor of the establishment. The bartender hadn’t moved from his position behind the counter, and only watched the display while cleaning the mugs which adorned the wall in silence. The other customers had either watched with frightened expressions or were now begrudgingly forking over lost bets for the now decided fight.
“Feathering straight you are.” With that said, she let the beaten stallion fall to the floor in a heap to join his comrades. “And if you and your buddies ever think of touching me like that again, I won’t go easy on you next time.”
“Bracer!” hollered a gruff voice from the door to the outside. The bounty hunter turned to the source of the voice with an annoyed look. The owner of the bellow was an older earth pony doned in heavy leather-like armor with the symbol of a silver scythe on his left shoulder. “Silverwing is waiting.”
The bounty hunter sighed and trotted over to the bartender, pulling out a bag of bits from one of her pouches. “Sorry for the mess,” she said before plopping the small bag on the counter. The bartender took the bag and quickly counted its contents before nodding and going back to cleaning his mugs. As the mare turned to walk to the doorway, she could hear the whispers of the other patrons murmuring in shock about the announcement of her name. The bounty hunter moved for the door, ignoring the growing gossip and followed the gruff earth pony out into the outpost proper.
The outpost was no bigger than a city block, but with how many buildings that were jammed together, it felt claustrophobic to any visitor inside it. The ground was a beaten path of dirt, currently dry as no rain was scheduled to fall within the compound for at least another week. The outpost’s pub, smith, inn, local guard garrison, and general goods store all shared the same wooden complex. The wood had been worn from years of use and shared the same wear as the wall surrounding the entire area. Also jammed in the outpost, was another building which sported the same silver scythe above its doors as the earth pony had on his shoulder.
“Does the famous Bloody Bracer make a habit of causing a ruckus in a pub? Or was our little slice of heaven just a special occasion?” mused the earth pony to the bounty hunter.
The mare only responded with, “If your colts can’t keep their hooves to themselves, I can’t be blamed for the consequences they suffer.”
The stallion responded with a rough, sharp laugh.
“If it was one of my boys, then you’d have my apologies for his behavior. Also, I hoped you kicked his rear hard enough for him to regret it?” queried the stallion before breaking into another round of chuckles. The mare known as Bloody Bracer said nothing in reply, only choosing to follow.
Soon they came to the main doors of the building with a silver scythe symbol above its entrance. The building itself was solid wood paneling, just like the others in the compound. However, its major difference was easily noticeable: there were no windows on the first floor, and the ones on the second had a guard stationed at every opening. This place seemed like a fortress in comparison to the guard garrison which was located on the other side of the outpost.
The guard standing in front of the doors noticed their approach and opened the door for them. Bracer and the earth pony stepped through the archway and into a well lit lobby. It was lightly furnished, only a metal chandelier and few candelabras provided decoration along with interior lighting. A grand staircase split the entryway right down the middle, leading to a second floor balcony whichwrapped all around the entryway. A lone pegasus stood near the staircase, he seemed engaged with a book held in his hoof until their arrival snapped him out of his reading zen.
“Ah, I see the lovely Ms. Bracer has decided to grace us with her presence at our compound,” greeted the pegasus as he stowed the book in a bag on his side. He was a lean silver pegasus with a short white mane decked in light cloth armor. On his back was a traveling bag, a quiver of bolts, and a compacted crossbow ready to spring active at a moment’s notice.
“Quit with the wheedling talk, Silverwing. I’ve got a bounty and it’s one I’ll need your guild’s help with again,” shot Bracer. Silver only sighed in response before gesturing with his wing for her to follow.
“That’s the one thing about you that holds you back Ms. Bracer: you’re all business, business, business,” admonished Silverwing as they walked down the hall.
“Sorry, but stopping by to say ‘hello’ isn’t something I have time for,” she replied.
“No, no, I understand,” defended Silverwing. “You’re a businessmare with places to go and skulls of ponies to bash in.” Bracer scowled at his ending remark, but Silverwing either ignored it or never noticed. Silver opened a door and stepped into a room filled with piles of paperwork and books stacked on top of one another. Adorning the walls were a plethora of wanted posters, many of them organized into groups by type of crime or bounty. From a far hidden corner of the room, the incessant ticking of a typewriter could be heard. “Quick Write,” called out Silverwing, “we have a guest.”
The sounds of the typewriter ceased, and a poofy dark orange mane popped up from behind one of the many stacks of paperwork. “Oh!” said a peppy girlish voice. “Be right there boss!” The owner of the voice then weaved in and around the precarious stacks of paperwork and nearly knocking over a few, before popping up right next to Bracer with a wide smile. She was an earth pony mare with a poofy yellowish orange coat to match her equally bouncy dark orange mane.“Bracer!” she gasped. “What a pleasant surprise ... did you come back just to say hi to little ole’ me?”
“Ms. Bracer is here, Quick Write, because she has a bounty she wants our help turning in,” interjected Silverwing.
“Oooooo,” admired Quick Write in awe. “I’ll get the necessary forms then!” she said before diving back into the stacks of paperwork.
“So what kind of bounty are you turning into the crown this time, Ms. Bracer?” inquired Silverwing. “The last time you needed my company’s assistance was when it was a band of minotaur marauders who were harassing towns in the Badlands.” Silverwing’s expression then turned to amusement. “Don’t tell me you managed to capture a Changeling Queen, that would be almost too perfect.”
Bracer gazed back at Silverwing and nonchalantly responded, “You know how I make deals Silver: we agree on the dividing of the bounty and then you find out who it is.”
“A service I don’t do often with many independent parties for good reason, Ms. Bracer,” Silver reminded Bracer with a calm voice. “But you’ve proven time and again that you’re a mare of good stature, although you honestly could use a bit of a lesson in tact.”
“Buck tact,” she responded. “I get the job done; if you want me to be nice about it, then that costs you extra.”
“Well if you charge your usual rates, I can imagine how much it would cost for you to crack a smile,” joked Silverwing as he himself gave a wide smile. Bracer responded with a small smirk of her own, causing Silverwing to give mock gasp. “My eyes must be seeing things ... I could have sworn you had some actual emotion for a moment there.”
“And that’s all you’re ever going to see, Silver,” Bracer indicated right as Quick Write returned with a stack of papers in tow on her back. Quick Write cleared off one of the many desks in the room and set down the forms she had been carrying into a typewriter. With a flurry of hooves, she began to type all the necessary information on the paperwork faster than a Diamond Dog digging for rubies. While she was furiously beating the typewriter into submission, Silverwing moved over two chairs and motioned for Bracer to have a seat.
She obliged, and relaxed back into the wooden chair before simply stating, “Eighty percent.”
Silverwing blankly looked at her like a deer witnessing a trainwreck exploding before he broke into soft laughter. “I didn’t realise you had grown a sense of humor, Ms. Bracer.”
“I haven’t,” she concisely responded. Silverwing paused for a moment waiting to see if she was, in fact, pulling his leg. When Bracer refused to comment anymore on her words, he let out a short disbelieving laugh and sighed.
“Whew, Ms. Bracer, that’s… that’s kind of impossible.” Silverwing explained, “The most I’ve ever agreed to in any deal was sixty percent, and that was when only you knew how to find that dragon.”
“You’ll more than make up your costs, you know you can trust me.”
“This isn’t so much a matter of trust Ms. Bracer. Even if I went seventy percent, I’d still be taking a major cut,” Silverwing countered. “So unless this is something really big, I can’t see the profit in it.”
Bracer got off of her chair and walked over to one of the walls of wanted posters. She stopped beneath the section titled ‘Class Ten Bounties’ and gestured a hoof at the posters. “What if we instead do seventy-five, and you get all the credit for the capture?”
Silverwing stood straight in shock. “You- you’re serious?” He looked back and forth between the posters on the wall and Bracer in disbelief. “If you caught a class ten-”
“I’d most likely reach the outskirts of Canterlot before a Royal Guard patrol shows up and ‘assists’ me with my capture, taking the actual profit to zilch and just getting a pat on the back for a job well done,” Bracer hypothesized with a tone of annoyance. “That is if I showed up by myself. If I had a whole escort of mercs, though, we could parade the bounty right to Celestia’s doorstep, and with the drawing of a crowd they’d have to be ‘generous’ enough to gift that amazing group who risked their lives to capture such a dangerous criminal.” Bracer knew that if there was one thing mercenary groups thrived on more than money, it was publicity. If Silverwing’s group were to be the one to take credit for the capture of her bounty, then the amount of business they would get in return would far outweigh the 750,000 bits she would be receiving. Silverwing sat silently for awhile, his face moving with his thoughts as he weighed the options of her deal.
“Okay boss!” announced Quick Write. “All the basic stuff is in place.” She sat in front of her typewriter, ready for Silverwing to make a decision.
Silverwing looked Bracer, then back at the bounty board on the wall, and then back to Bracer... before breaking into a wide grin. “Ahh, to Tartarus with it! If you actually got one of them, I’d be a fool to pass up this opportunity,” he stated mirthfully.
“So seventy-five my way, and you get all the credit for capture. Deal?” repeated Bracer, extending her hoof.
“Deal,” confirmed Silverwing as he matched his hoof to hers in a hoofbump agreement. “Quick Write, start putting down the terms of agreement.” Quick Write acknowledged his order, and once again went back to typing with a flurry of hooves. “So tell me Ms. Bracer,” he started to inquire as he slouched back into his chair, “who in Celestia’s name did you get the drop on? Blood Edge the Raider? Skarthanax? The ex-Diamond Dog general, Grawnar?”
“One of the Element Thieves,” she responded simply ... and the moment she spoke, all sound ceased in the room. Silverwing’s eyes had bulged to nearly the size of saucers, and Quick Write’s mouth was agape in incredulousness upon learning just who their bounty was.
“Th- The Element Thieves?!” exclaimed Quick Write. “But that bounty has only been up for less than a day! It only just arrived this morning on our compound! How did you-?”
“I was in Ponyville when the notice was posted, and it just so happened that a few minutes later one of the ‘Thieves’ himself showed up in town and tried to fight our newest princess hoof-to-hoof,” explained Bracer to the two astonished ponies.
“Unbelievable,” murmured Silverwing.
“Anyway, the guy tried escaping through the Everfree Forest—which I anticipated—and I was able to knock him unconscious and cage him up. Thankfully I still had the thumanite cage I was using to return a unicorn runaway, so he can’t escape.”
“Magic? Then you mean you caught the ‘Odd Creature’ Thief?” questioned Silverwing.
“I thought it looked like a really skinny minotaur,” added Quick Write.
“He calls himself a ‘human’,” said Bracer, who then upon seeing her business partners confused looks added, “Yeah, I’ve never heard of them either. Not like they’re that impressive anyway.”
“You make it sound like it was easy to capture. Is it really that dangerous?” asked Silverwing.
“Dangerous? …”
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The Mage currently was in a precarious position.
“Come on, dammit!” he yelled, his lips drawn tightly in a frown as he voiced his obvious frustration at the lack of success with regards to his attempt to escape the cage currently imprisoning him.
If one were to look upon the cage which the Mage had himself trapped within, they would bear witness to a most amusing sight: a trapped human desperately trying to pick up a stone with a long pair of sticks. These sticks were actually multiple smaller twigs bound together with leaves and vines into two very large chopsticks. The Mage currently had both of his arms out of his cage. with one of these makeshift utensils in each hand, trying desperately to pick up a rock which refused to budge. In essence it was like watching the world’s skinniest crab attempt to play the most rigged crane game in existence. And it was losing horribly as one of the sticks snapped right in half.
“Gah! Damn useless bastard piece of wood!”
-----
“Yeah … I don’t think so,” answered Bracer with a scoff.
Silverwing looked unsure as he asked, “So you only got the one?” He motioned to the companion wanted poster, which only showed the outline of a pegasus. “Were you able to get any info out of him about his partner?”
Bracer shrugged her shoulders and scoffed. “No. He claims that he was just passing through, on vacation or something, and that he teleported accidently to the most secure location in all of Equestria and everything has been one big misunderstanding.”
Silverwing just chuckled. “It’s just my opinion, but if he wasn’t guilty, then why would he run?” he hypothesized. Quick Write giggled at her boss’ words.
“You’re always so clever, boss.”
“I really am, aren’t I?” he announced, grinning debonairly. Bracer, however, just rolled her eyes and tapped her hoof on the desk, motioning Quick Write to continue. With a small gasp of realization, Quick Write immediately went back to finishing up the paperwork with a mashing of keys. Silverwing walked over to the doorway and leaned outside the room.
“Blaze! Go get some guys to help haul in our latest catch!” he shouted down the hall. A shout of confirmation came back to him and he nodded his head in approval. “Okay Bracer,” Silverwing said, turning to her, “you’ve got the full support of my entire group behind you. We’ll bring the captive back here, and then tomorrow we’ll head out and parade him into Canterlot like it’s the Summer Sun Celebration!”
“Tomorrow?” questioned Bracer with a tone of annoyance. “Why not do it now, if we leave now we can make it there before the sun even sets.” Silverwing tilted his head with a smile and walked up till he was alongside Bracer as he spoke.
“Ah, the reason for that, dear Bracer, is twofold.” he explained, lifting one hoof. “Firstly, we’re a little understaffed at the moment; aside from the three of us you’ve seen today we only have a small battalion of other members at home. The rest will be returning tomorrow morning from Vanhoover.” As he said this, Silverwing laid a wing across Bracer’s back, to which she brushed it off with a icy glare. “The second reason is that the other thief is still at large, and might be even looking for their partner in crime. I wouldn't want them to surprise attack us in transit and have anypony get hurt because of it.”
“Really, you care that much?” asked Bracer scowling at Silverwing.
“Oh, lighten up Bracer,” Silverwing jibed. “I’ll even throw in a room for the night so you won't have to stay at that ‘hole in a wall’ they call an inn. Place doesn’t even have a complimentary breakfast.”
Bracer just stared at him as if his words were slowly grating on her nerves. “... Fine, have your troops meet me outside so we can haul the bounty in.” And with that, Bracer trotted out the doorway and down the hall. Back in the office, however, Silverwing just let out a sigh and turned to Quick Write.
“Jeeze, all this time and she’s still as serious about the job as ever,” he thought aloud. “Though she did seem a little more miffed than usual.”
“She’s probably just anxious about hauling in a prize of this size boss.” said Quick Write. “I mean, last time she was involved with a bounty as big as this … well, you know.”
“Hrm,” said Silverwing. “Quick Write, I need you to send out a message for me.” Silverwing scribbled a short message on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “Have this sent to our Vanhoover branch; I need them to send a few more units our way for something like this.” Quick Write grabbed the note in her mouth and gave a salute.
“Yew geddit bess!” she said through clenched teeth and ran out of the room. Silverwing watched her leave and turned to the wanted poster which hung on the wall of the two ‘Element Thieves’. With a heavy sigh, he turned away and walked out of the office closing the door behind him.
-----
The past hour had felt more like an eternity for the magical human trapped within a magic draining cage. After many attempts at jury rigging a way to grab a sharpened stone, he was finally successful in his mission ... only to discover the rock was not nearly as sharp as he had hoped and his subsequent attempts at breaking the lock on his cage were for naught.
“I swear when I get out of here I’m going to tie up that smug pony and throw her off a cliff, right after I see a chiropractor—gah my back!” complained the cramped human as he scratched furiously on the floor of his cage with the sharpened rock. His artistic endeavors on the floor of his confined room ended when he heard the sound of voices in the distance approaching. With renewed gusto, the Mage started to bash the lock on his cage with his rock. Not a moment later however, the cage was rattled by a swift kick and the movement caused the Mage to hit the side bars hard and drop his makeshift tool.
“‘Ey, now. Trying to break out won’t do ya any good, ya know?” said a masculine voice with a Northerner twang from outside the cage. “Thumanite is really tough stuff, can’t be broken unless ya got a dragon breathin’ down on ya.”
“You should listen to him, he knows his cages,” spoke another male with a Londoner accent. The Mage shook his head to clear the ringing sound out of his ears as he turned to see his new guests. The bounty hunter mare had returned with company this time, two earth pony stallions. Both were wearing a light armor front piece with a silver scythe painted on the shoulders, and had spears at their sides. The two of them were staunch differences elsewhere: One was tall and thin with golden brown fur and a light orange mane, while the other was heavy built and pudgy with light blue fur and dark navy blue hair.
“Where did you find these chumps? Rent-a-guard?” snarked the Mage. His response was a spear from the portly mercenary being shoved in his face.
“‘Ey, now! We’re from Silver’s Reapers, don’t ya know. You’d best be watchin’ that mouth, or you’ll be getting a face full of ol’ Betsey here,” spat the azure stocky stallion as he thrust the spear tip close to the Mage’s nose. The Mage himself was shocked and confused, both at how in the heck the pony was somehow using a polearm with ease, but also with the pony’s heavy Northerner accent.
“Careful there, Shield!” interrupted his lanky partner. “He’s just acting tough is all, no need to rough him up. After all, Silver would have our tails if we risked losing a bounty like this.”
Much to the Mage’s relief, the pudgy blue mercenary named Shield lowered his spear and stored it at his side once more.
“If you two are done being clowns, start removing the branches from your side,” snapped the bounty hunter as she pulled off the sheet which had once hung over the cage.
“Okay, you heard 'er Edge,” said Shield to the tall lanky stallion. “Best we earn our keep and get this bounty movin’.”
The taller of the two stallions nodded and they both began to clear away the loose greenery which had been placed around the Mage’s confines.
“Looks like this guy is pretty clever with his hooves here,” said Shield as he motioned to the loose twigs and sticks which the Mage had used earlier.
“Clearly he wasn’t clever enough,” joked Edge, which elicited a short chuckle from both the stallions. The Mage just snorted at their comments and rolled his eyes. Soon the cage and the cart it was on was free of debris and the bounty hunter mare had hitched herself to the front of it.
“You two head up the rear and keep an eye on him,” she ordered giving a quick jab in the Mage’s direction.
“Ey now there missy,” interjected Shield. “What makes you think you can order us ar—oof!” Shield found himself interrupted by his partner Edge’s elbow knocking the wind out of him.
“Nevermind my friend’s ignorance, Ms. Bracer.” interjected Edge as his eyes shot back and forth between the two of them. “We’ll be sure the prisoner doesn’t try anything.” The Mage raised his eyebrows at the skinnier stallions reaction. Edge reacted however with an annoyed glare at his partner. Both of the stallions moved behind the cart and followed after as Bracer began to pull it away.
“What was that about Edge?” Shield asked his partner as they walked. “Why are ya lettin’ some bounty hunter call the shots?” Edge lowered his head to Shield’s height and spoke in a softer voice that the Mage could just barely make out what they were saying.
“That ‘bounty hunter’ is no ordinary mare,” explained Edge. “You might know her better by her full nickname, the ‘Bloody’ Bracer.” Shield’s eyes grew at the mention of the name and his gaze shot between the mare pulling the cart and his friend in fear.
“The—The ‘Bloody’ Bracer!?” Shield screamed as quietly as he could at his partner. “What was Silverwing thinking sending us out with her? You remember what happened the last time someone worked with her right?”
“From what I heard, Brute Force tried cheating her out of her cut,” answered Edge. “Silverwing would have probably done worse if she hadn’t gotten to him first.”
“Well, he wasn’t always the most agreeable kind of stallion, but that’s not the point! Anytime somepony works with her, they either wind up dead or beaten to a pulp … sometimes both!”
“Come now Shield,” admonished Edge, “Silverwing trusts her and swears by her work, and does the boss ever do any work with anyone untrustworthy?”
“Well, not really.”
“Exactly, so let's just get this job done and go home with a nice fat coinpurse at the end of all this,” said Edge as he looked up at the Mage. “Though I have to wonder just what in the gated infernos of Tartarus we’re turning in here. You ever seen anything like him before?”
“Sorta looks like a minotaur, if he were dead, starving, and hairless,” snarked Shield.
“Actually, didn’t Strong Arm—that minotaur sellsword—talk about something like him once? A projector or something?” wondered Edge as he stared past the Mage.
“Oh, I think he was talking about a propeller,” Shield added. “Maybe his kind works on airships?”
“That would explain why he’s so pasty, probably been around nothing but clouds.”
“Oh for the love of Odin, why the hell did I have to get pony versions of Laurel and Hardy,” muttered the Mage into his hands.
“Lawrell and who?” asked Shield.
“Ugh, just forget it,” groaned the Mage as he slumped up against his bars.
“No need to be all gloom and doom there, you uh … whatever you are,” said Shield.
“Human.”
“Gesundheit,” responded Shield, and the Mage stared at him in disbelief. “Though when ya think about it Edge, anypony would be a bit grumpy if they got caught and were in a cramped cage like him.”
“Very true that. So how did you get caught by Ms. Bracer?” asked Edge, “The story usually goes she beats her targets unconscious until her hooves are covered in red—hence the name—but you look just fine, albeit a bit haggard.” The Mage perked up at the question and straightened himself out as best he could before clearing his throat.
“Well that is indeed a tale, so I’d best start from the beginning,” said the Mage. “Let me start off by saying that first impressions are everything. Your clothing and your hygi-” The Mage found his speech interrupted by the cart hitting a rather large pothole, causing him to fly up and hit his head on the top of the cage. Cursing under his breath he turned to the mare pulling the cart and yelled, “You did that on purpose!” The ‘Bloody’ Bracer only spared him only a fleeting glance with a hint of a smile before turning her attention back to the road ahead of them.
“We're coming up on the compound,” Bracer stated aloud. At her words the Mage twisted himself around to get a better look at the place and was greeted with the view of a tall palisade wall which stretched as far off in the distance as he could see.
The group passed through the entryway and into the compound proper with the sounds of ponies going about their business and a blacksmith hammering away at his work greeted them as they traveled through the courtyard. A few of the ponies pointed at the Mage and whispered to each other in hushed tones as they passed by. Eventually they came to the side of the Silver’s Reapers headquarters where two more stallions wearing the same armor as Edge and Shield’s were waiting next to a large service entrance. The two greeted their comrades in arms before they opened the door and helped guide the Mage’s prison inside.
After rolling the cart into a corner, the mercs moved to the front of the cage and lowered their spears directly at the Mage’s face.
“Gee, make a guy feel welcome why don't you,” he said with mock glee.
“Just don’t make any sudden movements,” said Bracer as she walked between the mercs up to the cage’s door and began to fiddle with the lock. “Or you might find out just how friendly these guys can be.”
“Careful now, I heard that stuff is highly magical when it involves your kind,” quipped the Mage. With a roll of her eyes and a movement of her hoof, Bracer finished unlocking the cage and backed up as the door swung wide.
“Alright now ya big galoot,” ordered the portly merc named Shield. “You’re gonna come out of that cage nice and slow with your limbs where we can see em.”
The Mage crawled out of his confines with the spears still being pointed at his face. When he had exited the cage he slowly stretched his body out and rose up to his full height. While the feeling of finally being out of his confines was refreshing to the Mage, the mercs took a step back realizing that he looked a lot bigger when he wasn’t sitting down.
“Alright! We get it! You’re a tall one,” barked the lanky merc named Edge. “Swift, mind giving our new guest some restraints?” At this, one of the other mercs pulled off some shackles which hung along the walls and walked up to the Mage with them in tow.
“Limbs forward.” said the merc. The Mage, after a moment of glancing around him, complied. He held out his arms and they were quickly cuffed to the shackles which he found surprisingly loose, but before he could comment on them, the shackles glowed blue for a second and shrunk down on his limbs until they were too tight to be comfortable in any way. As the merc went for the Mage’s legs with a second pair of shackles he was stopped by Edge.
“Don’t know if you’ve handled bi-peds before, Swift,” said Edge to his coworker, “but cuffing them down there is gonna make him a pain to move.”
“Yeah, not like he’s got anywhere to run anyways,” added Shield. “Not that you were thinking of doin’ that, now were ya?”
“Thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” deadpanned the Mage.
“If you done chatting up our paycheck,” interjected Bracer, “let’s get him into lock up before one of you does something to buck this up.” The mercs all looked very miffed at the bounty hunter’s words, but followed along with her suggestion anyway. With one merc leading the way and the rest following behind, they ushered the Mage through a doorway into the building proper.
The Mage was surprised by just how much of the building had been jammed into such a small location. He almost wondered if there was a spacial anomaly in the building as they lead him farther and farther into its bowels. After a long descent down a staircase, they reached a rather spacious room which had plenty of shackles imbedded into the walls, and parts of the floor were covered with crates and beams of wood lying in piles in the corner.
“So what, is this a storage room or a jail cell?” asked the Mage incredulously.
“Both actually,” answered Edge as he gave the Mage a directional shove towards the far wall. “Silverwing is always one for efficiency in the business.” Edge guided the Mage over to one of the shackle restraints and shoved him to the ground. Before the Mage could protest, he found his arms lifted above his head and himself chained firmly against the wall.
“Jackass,” spat the Mage.
Edge just laughed haughtily at his words and motioned back to his coworkers. “He’s secure, Shield and I can take first shift.” He then motioned to Bracer with his hoof. “And you, Miss Bracer, can go rest your pretty head. We can take it from here.” Bracer only responded with a short nod and left the room with the other two mercs. Now alone with just two annoying mercenaries, the Mage took a closer look at his surroundings.
The room was obviously used for storage with all the crates and barrels, plus it also made for a good holding room with plenty of places to chain up any criminals as well as no windows and only one door in or out. And standing between himself and freedom were a pair of highly trained mercenaries and a set of metal shackles. As he began to think of options for escape, he noticed his guards were already talking to each other and not paying attention to him.
Seeing a chance, the Mage slowly concentrated on the shackles on his arms, willing with his hands to have them loosen so he could slip his hands out. After a moment, the Mage felt no change happen to his cuffs and then tried again with more force. He must have given himself away as one of the mercs shouted at him.
“Oy! Are you trying to magic those cuffs off of you?” shouted Edge, both him and his partner looked ready to attack at a moment's notice.
“Uh … no?” lied the Mage horribly. Both of his guards looked at each other before breaking out in a fit of laughter.
“Wow!” exclaimed Shield with rolling laughter. “When Bracer said you were a bad liar, she wasn’t kiddin’.”
“Not like it matters anyway,” said Edge as he pointed a hoof at the Mage’s bindings. “Those shackles highly enchanted to block magic and fit just right.” The Mage slumped down in annoyance and glared at his captors taunting him. “What, did you really expect us to not have magic-proof cuffs for things like you?”
“Well actually, they are meant for minotaurs,” said Shield. “And even then, magic using minotaurs are pretty rare.”
“Well like that’s why Silverwing is the boss, he always plans for situations like this,” explained Edge. As the two mercenaries blathered to each other, the Mage gave his bindings an experimental shake. True to what they had said, when he attempted to concentrate on forming any magical energy in his hands, the anti-magic properties would rebound the energy away, making using magic with his hands impossible. That made things much more difficult for him. Admittedly, his only experience involving escaping from custody either involved a king appearing in his cell and being voice by Patrick Stewart, or a dragon swooping down to kill everyone but him, and even then both of those were things he had done in fiction. When it came to real world application, all of that was tied up in his magic, and unless he grew a third arm, he wasn’t doing any of that anytime soon.
Then the Mage got an idea. Maybe, he already has a third arm... or more accurately, a foot! While his two guards had busied themselves with their own conversation, the Mage concentrated on storing magical energy in his right foot. He pictured the energy flowing through his body and to the point on his toe, the aether of the universe slowly coalescing at its tip. The whole process was strange and very weird to the Mage; this wasn’t his first attempt at trying such a method. Somedays, you really didn't want to get up from the couch and the remote was all the way across the room. That was an interesting weekend the Mage remembered fondly. He had also heard of age old spellslingers who could use every part of their body to cast magic, some for more obvious reasons then others.
The Mage delicately molded the magic flowing through him into energy he could use for spell casting. The whole process was taking most of his concentration and keeping the energy from showing up to the naked eye was adding to the growing list of stressors. He’d probably get only one or two good uses before his leg started to cramp up, as the lack of magical exercise was starting to tax his leg’s durability. Then, like a dam being broken, the Mage felt a release as the magic had formed into a small but spell worthy amount of Source he could use. He felt both amazement and relief wash over him. He didn’t think he’d be able to use his own foot as a Focus, but apparently desperation and a lot of luck helped him pull it off. Now all that remained was the hard part: Intent. Now that he had the ability to do something, what would he do with it?
Unlock the cuffs? No they were magic proof, so dumb idea. Steal the keys from the guards? They’d probably notice. Kill the guards and take the keys? Not enough magic to do something that deadly, and even then killing someone turned his stomach at the thought. But maybe he didn’t have to kill them? The Mage took another look around the room at what was stored in here with him. His eyes fell upon the large wooden beams which had been stacked up behind the guards—they were perfect!
Okay, the Mage said to himself, telekinesis is probably the easiest spell you know, and you’ve only got one shot at this, make it count man. The Mage reached out with his mind and Focused the magic into one of the wooden beams. A great weight came on the Mage’s mind as the magic connected, and taking a deep breath he pushed his Intent for it to rise. Gradually the beam floated into the air, up and up it rose until-
“Hey!” shouted Edge the mercenary at the Mage. “I’m talking to you!” The Mage balked at the sudden outburst and nearly dropped his concentration on the beam completely. The beam wobbled back and forth unsteadily as the Mage attempted to both telekinetically hold up a massive piece of wood and respond to his captors.
“Uh… yeah?” he responded trying to not let the stress show on his face.
“Shield was asking you how you got hired to pull off a job like that,” said Edge motioning to his partner. “And to be honest I too am curious about that.”
The Mage only groaned in response, both from the strain of his spell but also from just how annoyingly curious these guys were.
“Well he is being hauled in for stealing those Mints of Harm Money, right?” said Edge.
“Elements of Harmony, Edge. They’re those magical amulet thingies that some secret heroes used to save Princess Luna last year,” corrected Shield.
“Oh wow!” exclaimed Edge facing the Mage. “When you go big, you go big! How did you even pull it off?” The Mage groaned further at the two stallions antics before answering.
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” asserted the Mage as he tried to keep their attention away from the beam which was deliberately positioning itself above their heads. “As I told firecracker head, I teleported in as the real thief was getting away.”
“Pfft, sure you did,” snickered Edge. “That’s what they all say.”
“Well technically only unicorns could say that, with the whole ‘teleportation’ thing,” interjected Shield. “Either way, I doubt the courts are going to be very nice to this guy.”
The Mage did a double take before asking, “Wait, courts? Your country has courts?”
“What else would there be?” asked Edge.
“I kinda figured that the Princesses did all that…” the Mage suggested. “I thought I’d at least be able to convince her that this was all a huge misunderstanding.”
“I doubt it,” stated Shield. “The princesses usually leave matters of the law in other pony’s hooves. Usually to the justices, though you might be lucky to meet the supreme justice with a crime that big.”
“You could still say you're innocent… though I guess with her record it’d probably be a lost cause, ya know,” said Edge with a shrug of his shoulders. “She’s not exactly the nicest of ponies is what I’ve heard.”
“Oh, well then that makes me feel so much better about doing this then.”
“Doing wha-?” was all Shield was able to say before his skull was greeted by a gigantic piece of wood falling on both his and Edge’s head in synchronization. Like a sack of potatoes both ponies fell to the ground hard, while the Mage softly shouted ‘Yes!’ in triumph. A large grin spread across his face. He had done it! Not only did he pull off using magic through a limb he had rarely used, but he also was able to knock both of his captors unconscious! Now all he had to do was get the keys and unlock himself from the wall.
The keys which were now ten feet from him on the person of an unconscious pony mercenary.
The Mage came to the astute conclusion that there was a small hole in his planning process.
Five minutes and plenty of embarrassing attempts at levitating a fully grown pony into his reach and then trying to grab a keyring with only his feet to pass to his hands, the Mage was finally free! He gave his back a good stretch and popped loose a few knots which had formed from his lack of movement. He rubbed his wrists as well, the cold feeling of metal still lingering on them. A chill draft fell across the Mage and he shivered, teeth chattering and hands rubbing his arms to warm them up. His first goal now was to find his clothes, and then to escape the compound.
The Mage concentrated energy into his eyes. When he opened them, they were once again a shimmering blue like they had been when he examined his thumanite cage. To an onlooker it would seem like he was looking around the walls and ceiling of the room, but in reality he was looking past them. To his left and up a level he saw what he was looking for—it was faint, but it was the unmistakable aura of his Tome. Even if it wasn’t working right, that book still radiated magic like a spotlight, and that was his best bet for finding his belongings.
Peeking his head out of the storage/prison room the Mage found nothing but empty dimly lit hallways. Stepping out into the hallway in his nearly naked form, the Mage tiptoed across the cool stone floor and up the long winding spiral staircase they had taken him through. The whole building was silent save for the creaking of wood as the foundation shifted. As the Mage made his way through the halls, he kept his eyes open and glowing. The last thing he wanted was some random guard to spot him, and keeping his eyes ‘open’ to see if there was any change in the flow of magic was his best way of doing that.
From what he could see, however, the largest concentrations of magic seemed to be beneath him in multiple different rooms. There didn’t seem to be any sort of patrolling guard wandering through the halls anywhere. Either the mercs here had a lack of foresight, or they were just dangerously overconfident. Either way it made the Mage’s task of getting through the building that much easier.
After ascending yet another staircase, the Mage came to the room where the Tome’s magical energy resonated behind. He put up an ear to the door, and after hearing nothing from the other side, push the door gently open to peek inside. Seeing no movement or any other being around, he slid into the room and silently shut the door behind him.
The room was a grand office, with multiple pictures adorning the walls of various ponies and other creatures. Short bookcases of ledgers and rolled up paper stood below the pictures on the wall. A lit fireplace was behind a large chair and desk stacked to the brim with paperwork and logistics maps. In the far corner was a large mirror with a intricately detailed frame and was nearly as tall as the mage himself. And just across from the mirror was an armoire with a table in front of it with his belongs laying atop it.
The Mage smiled at finding his lost treasures, and even more so at the thought of finally having pants again. He went over to his possessions and took a tally of what was there. His clothes were all accounted for and they were even folded neatly, his boots and his Tome were just like he last saw them, and within his traveling pack he found his bottle of rum.
“What?!” the Mage said, angered. “They drank half of it?!” True to his words, the Mage shook his bottle to see that much of the liquor had been already consumed by another party. If he wasn’t so busy running for his life, he’d track down the party and give them a solid whooping. Nobody drinks his booze. The Mage was broken out of his ruminations at the sound of hoofsteps coming down the hallway. His head on a swivel, he spotted the only hiding spot in the room, the large armoire, and dove inside of it.
The smell of mothballs and rarely touched linens nearly made him gag at the smell as he hid within the container, but he held his breath in hopes he wouldn't be heard. The hoofsteps came closer to the room and the Mage hoped they were just passing by. Through the slits in the armoire the Mage saw otherwise as the door swung open and in stepped a silver coated pegasus with a white mane. The pegasus whistled a nonsense tune as he made his way through the office and over to the desk. He fiddled with some papers and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a slip of paper.
He made his way over to the corner where the Mage was hiding, who stole a quick glance at the object on the table. The Mage’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he realized he left the bottle sitting out on the table! The pegasus seemed to notice this as well as he looked back and forth between the bag and the bottle. The Mage silently cursed himself from his hiding spot, and hoped and prayed to any deity listening that he somehow not be found out. The pegasus scrutinized the bottle for a moment and looked about the room, as if he were looking for thieves hiding in the shadows, before shrugging and downing a chug of the bottles contents. The Mage silently let out a breath he had been holding, the relief of not being caught far outweighing his indignation at the thief stealing his booze.
The pegasus then set down the bottle and went to the large mirror right across from the armoire and ran his hoof along the edge of its frame. From his hiding spot there was something off about the mirror which he couldn't quite put his finger on. After a double take, he realised that the pegasus wasn’t showing a reflection in the mirror! In fact, there was no reflection of anything on its surface, which instead seemed to shimmer and glow as the pegasus touched it. He then spoke some words, too soft for the Mage to hear, and the mirror's glass began to pulse.
The smoky form of a unicorn coalesced on the mirror's face and it smiled when it looked upon the pegasus. “Silverwing,” spoke the apparition with a feminine voice and tone of one seeing an old friend. “How nice of you to call, I assume your operation in Vanhoover went well?”
“Well enough that we can move forward with our plans for expansion in that region, but that’s not why I’m contacting you Rose,” he responded very seriously.
“Well with that look upon your face, you look like someone stole your favorite sword,” the apparition in the mirror teased.
“Actually it’s some good news. We caught one of the element thieves,” he said without any form of pride in his voice.
The specter seemed taken aback at this, and took a moment before asking, “You ... caught one of them?”
“Actually an independent party, The ‘Bloody’ Bracer, was responsible for capturing the magical ‘weird creature’,” explained Silverwing, “She brought it to us and is wanting our assistance in turning him into the authorities in Canterlot.” Neither of the two spoke for awhile as the figure in the mirror seemed to be thinking heavily while Silverwing stood straight like a soldier waiting for orders.
“The ‘Bloody’ Bracer, you say?” finally asked the smoky figure.
“Yes, she was able to subdue the creature and trapped him in a magic-proof cage. We have him currently trapped and under guard, he’s not going anywhere.” replied Silverwing. The Mage however silently chuckled at Silverwings words. He planned on being long gone before anyone here ever knew about it.
“That’s strange, because according to my recent intelligence reports, that mercenary is a perfect match for the other element thief,” said the figure. The Mage had to hold back his urge to gasp loudly. Bracer was the thief!? Was she setting him up this whole time?
“Rose, that’s going to be a problem,” argued Silverwing. “For one, the official report was that it was a male pegasus.”
“It was dark that night if I recall, and anypony can make a mistake from a distance,” suggested the feminine voice.
“And even if we do turn them both in, the creature is already professing his innocence to the whole situation. If Bracer herself starts doing the same, they might start looking into it.”
“...It's a sad thing about the business we’re in, Silverwing,” the voice droned in a soft mock sorrow-like tone. “Sometimes when tracking down wanted felons, they just don't like going quietly and ... well ... accidents do happen, don't they?”
Both Silverwing and the Mage’s eye grew at the figure’s implications, and Silverwing responded with unsure objections. “But this is Bracer we’re talking about. I don’t think there’s anyone in the whole business who thinks she would have anything to-”
“Everypony knows of that one’s sordid past,” interrupted the figure. “And honestly, isn’t murder considered to be much worse than grand larceny anyway?” Silverwing only stood still in response, a frown on his brow and his own mind deep in his thoughts. “Who’s to say she didn’t decide to take a trip down that dark path again,” continued the voice. “Either way, your company will have the grand honor of turning in two of the greatest criminals this country has ever seen.”
Silverwing seemed to stew on these words, like a man struggling within on a decision he had to make. “There is no other way?”
“The creature was an aberration in our plans. We can’t afford them to have even a clue to what’s going on,” the figure said. “Deliver them both and we tie up a loose end, while all they do is chase after some red herring.”
“I still don’t like it,” stated Silverwing.
“What’s not to like Silver?” the voice said with amusement. “Your company just took care of two of the most dangerous criminals in the land.” The figure started to dissipate on its last words. “And isn’t that what we’re meant to do? Create a safer Equestria for all?”
Silverwing, his neck stiff and his eyes forward, turned and walked towards the door of the office, only turning back to look at the mirror before responding to the already faded spector. “Yeah, a safer Equestria for all.” And with that he shut the door.
The Mage stood dumbfounded next to the hanging garments with a million things running through his mind. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath was a quickened pace. After the panic began to subside he finally spoke.
“Holy shit.”