With a cry, I span, lashing out viciously with a wing. A satisfying grunt accompanied the feeling of impact. The victory was short-lived, however, as I soon found myself being tackled to the floor, leathery appendages pinned uselessly beneath me.
Rolling with the tackle, I threw his weight over mine. Dragging me with him, we tumbled across the ground, battering each other at every given opportunity. His own wing caught across my brow, causing my eye to water painfully.
Not wanting this to become a match of strength - he was bigger, fitter, and more muscular than I - my wings spread and I sprang into the air.
Rushing wind whistled past my ears, flattening them to my scalp. Tucking my legs in, I angled steeply, spinning wildly as he pursued me. Every second counted.
Coming out of the roll, I swept upwards, trying to regain balance and open my aching eye. Wait; this looks more like the ground...
Before I became a nasty mess to be cleaned up, my wings extended - wide - slowing the descent. A thrust later and I was soaring skywards. Beneath me the air shifted as my assailant overshot. I didn't try to suppress my fanged grin.
Listening carefully, I filtered out my heavy breathing and pounding heart. The quietness of the evening, the lazy summer breeze, the clinking of the armor as the guards changed. Everything as always; uniform down to the last hoof step. Except that - the wing beats - coming up behind me. Coming up fast.
Instinctively, I twisted, taking a clip to the wing, but otherwise unscathed. Unfortunately, he recovered before I did, and circled around to meet me again.
As I was tackled heavily, I tried to remember how this fight had started...
Obviously, I wasn't going to waste a second trying to escape. I might not know exactly why we were pursuing each other across the training field - but I knew I didn't want to be caught. Immediately I was squirming and thrashing, forcing his grip to loosen. Nevertheless, he didn't drop me, so I had to try a different tactic.
Freeing my wings took a bit of effort. Forcing them to flying against his weight was harder. Trying not to scream as I began our plummet towards the hard earth - that took a lot of effort.
It was a cruel tactic. Speeding into the ground, you give your attacker two options; crash with you, or let go and save themselves. You have to hope they choose the second option before you do actually land - it makes a nasty mess otherwise.
He, annoyingly, chose a third option.
A shift and his own wings were assisting our descent. Neither letting up on speed, nor backing off - one last chance. I grabbed and shoved, spinning us in a dangerous dance. If we were going to hit the floor, I wanted him underneath.
Inevitably, my partner knew what I was doing, and began to spin me too. Spiralling at this pace, with both of us disorientated, it was impossible to know who would land first. I tucked myself into a ball as he did the same, wrapped into one furry bundle together.
Still spinning, it was all a matter of chance.
In training, we were taught this in very controlled and carefully organised program. Nicknamed the 'death roll' by some of the trainees, the danger was explicit. Experienced as I was, I knew the fall wouldn't kill either of us - not if you landed properly. You might not even break anything, if luck's on your side. But it will wind you, you will be aching into next year, and your superiors will be on your case for doing something so dangerously stupid.
Luckily, I didn't have superiors any more.
Unluckily, I impacted first.
A blurry mixture of colours swirled above me, swooping reds and twirling yellows poured themselves around the sky in one big multicoloured mess. Deep dark blues like the bottom of the ocean spilled over the evening's rainbow, smothering the warm colors with the night's own calm concoction. The Moon was just starting to break the horizon, magically dragged skywards, making my body tingle in anticipation.
Actually - that might just have been my lungs waking up again.
Taking a shaky, shuddering breath, I refilled my chest with air; having been brutally knocked out by the stallion now looming over me.
He leaned closer, his bright yellow eyes almost glowing in the twilight. A triumphant smile twisted his lips as he slowly and deliberately licked my face - right from the bottom of my muzzle to the top of my fluffy ear. Oh - I remembered our bet.
"Ugh! Orion!" I squirmed at the warm, moist touch, batting away his face with a hoof.
"I told you I'd win."
"No you didn't - I said I'd never willingly let a stallion lick my face!" I struggled to my hooves, letting Orion help me up. He seemed no worse off for the fall. I, on the other hoof, was beginning to feel my left shoulder regain feeling - it wasn't a pleasant one.
"But your sister would." He smirked, showing off his gleaming fangs. To anypony else, seeing Orion would be the stuff of nightmares. He towered over most ponies, had a habit of grinning in a way that only showed off his fangs, and his eyes had a worrying glint to them that always made him look like he knew more than he was letting on. Oh, and of course, he was a bat pony - a perfectly sound reason to find him terrifying. Because we bat ponies are the terrors of Canterlot.
"Are you alright?" He brushed his mane out of his eyes, as if to show that he was absolutely fine. His mane was also fine - it was the type that looked best while windswept and untamed. I tried to suppress my jealousy.
I failed miserably.
"Been worse," I stretched out, feeling several muscles protesting at their rough treatment, "I'll be in agony by the morning, though."
"I'm sure you'll manage - you aren't on guard duty all night." He helped me over to the edge of the training field, where several young regulars had gathered, waiting for the night's activities.
"No, instead, I have to sit around in a musty old office and hope Conny's actually accepted some work for us," I sighed, ignoring the looks I got from the pups. Newly sworn-in guards are always so over-excitable - you fall from the sky and suddenly they think you must be one of Princess Luna's descendants. "If he doesn't take any work soon I'll lose the apartment."
"You're still welcome to rejoin the g-"
"No."
"Nocturne, be reasonable - you get paid hardly anything, doing work nopony else will touch - when you could just come back with no questions asked!"
"The answer's still no," I jabbed a hoof at his chest, "I didn't go through all of that trouble to leave just to give up and come crawling back. Do you know how much paperwork I had to fill out?"
"We could always just burn it and pretend you never left."
But I didn't get to enforce my point any further, as a nervous looking pup with eyes as round as the Moon shuffled over.
"Um, excuse me, miss - but didn't you just crash?"
"No, the sky dropped me - it happens sometimes when you're not concentrating." I hissed back, sending the soft little creature scurrying back to his friends. "I'd better be off; see you tomorrow."
"Try not to scare too many ponies while you're out." Orion thumped me across my aching shoulder as I passed him. I replied with a well-aimed kick in the flank. We shared such a caring friendship. "Oh, Turny!" He called after me, "Not tomorrow - it's the Summer Sun Celebration - I'll be busy all night!"
"Sure thing!" I hurried off; Conundrum didn't like it when I was late.
The sign hung limply above the street, its paint peeling away from the wood and spiders making their homes in the fittings. Once, it would have been a striking deep purple, the rich colour of summer flowers, with glossy black writing carefully painted over. The writing was now an uninspiring grey, and looked frail rather than eccentrically embellished. It declared, with a rather apologetic tone:
The Misdemeanor Private Detective Agency
I hoofed open the door, kicking away the newspapers that littered the hall. To the left was our office and consulting room. Further down the hall was the kitchen, a sitting room filled with dusty old books, and a spiral staircase leading upstairs. I had never been up there. Forcing open the office door, I stumbled into a room heavy with the smell of dust, apple cider, and a faint lingering scent of cinnamon.
Two plush sofas faced each other in the middle of the room, floating on a sea of discarded papers and forgotten apple cores. Two desks and a pin board also occupied the room, pushed out of the way against the walls. Peeling green wallpaper relaxed against the walls, as if it had given up on hanging properly. A few candles lit the scene, flickering wildly as I let a draught in.
We worked at night, unless there was a pressing case. When I joined I had been given the choice, Conundrum being flexible for once, and preferred to stick with my old routine of living in the darkness. Seeing as we rarely had cases, this worked well for me - giving me the daylight hours to do my own private work without Conny getting involved. It was, however, rather jarring when we had to meet a new client at nine in the morning.
"Good evening, Sir," I looked over to Conundrum's desk - he sat there, staring at the letter in his flickering blue aura. His horn-rimmed spectacles balanced precariously on his snout, wobbling slightly as he wrinkled his nose. "Sir? I said - hello, sir!" Never mind - he only ever notices me if I'm late, but never when I actually arrive on time. Instead, I gave a mock salute to the mare on his desk. She sat resplendent in a small gold frame, bright eyes sharp and intelligent, though not without a slight hint of flirtation. A hoof had been raised coyly to her cheek, buffeting her sunset orange hair.
Taking my place at the desk, I picked up the newspaper and stared searching.
"Why is my coffee cold?"
"I made it over an hour ago, sir." I sighed and rested my head down, letting my excessive fringe fall into my eyes. No work - why was there never any work?
"Well, why didn't you tell me?"
"I did."
He huffed grouchily and pushed his glasses back up his snout. Shuffling the papers, he sighed again, and muttered slightly. Oh - he was going to start complaining again. I took a swig of coffee (it was my second mug), and settled down for a session of griping.
"Do you know what I cannot believe?" There we go.
A pause. Oh - he wanted a reply. "... hmm? What, sir?"
"We never get any really good work. Look here;" he levitated over a scrap of paper, "a request to track down a lost ring. Or this:" a second scrap floated up towards me, "'I think my wife is cheating on me with the gardener' - this isn't the work of successful detectives!"
"We aren't successful detectives." I murmured so he wouldn't hear, though added slightly louder, "Maybe if we took the work we would put our name out a bit, you know - attract some better work."
"Never!" He wrinkled his nose in disgust, "I am not putting my considerable skills to such menial tasks!"
"I, on the other hoof, have no such qualms." I closed my eyes - he would be tolerable if he wasn't such a snob, or even if his boasting was actually true.
"Now, young Nocturne - this is what I am trying to teach you," his tone turned to lecturing as he took a sip of cold coffee, "when this agency began, we aspired to great tasks. And as I still do, I will not have my apprentice taking on any jobs below a certain standard. We have a good reputation to maintain."
"And I have a rent to pay." I glanced up at him. His pale green coat, his greying blue mane, his moth-eaten woollen scarf - he must have been well into middle age, possibly older. I knew he lived in this house alone - no wife, no marefriend, no foals - not even a young colt lover with a thing for older curmudgeonly stallions. The mare in the photograph must have been a lover - it had been signed 'Dearest Conny, you're the final piece to my puzzle xxx' - but I didn't know what had happened to her, or even what her name was. Clearly he still loved her - why else keep the picture on his desk? So they must have parted on good terms. But whatever had happened - she wasn't there now.
So here was a lonely, ageing stallion, who'd taken on a hopeful bat pony apprentice nearly two years ago. He earned enough money to feed himself, but not well, and owned a rather neglected house in the rough area of Canterlot (though even that's quite pleasant).
"Something will have to show up eventually." He snapped, returning to his own work and blocking me out again.
He's been saying that for the last six months. I had to start taking on my own cases to try and piece together a few more bits. Terrible work - I'd spent a full week trying to find somepony's lost earrings, only to finally discover they'd left them in the fridge - or another time, when I had to track down a family's missing pet rabbit. I could never tell Conundrum; he'd have a fit - so had to act as an independent investigator that nopony trusted.
By now, even the awful work was running out.
Finally, the Sun was beginning to rise. I'd managed to find a job advertised in the papers, tracing back somepony's family tree. It didn't sound so bad - and they might pay well if I came across something good. I decided to visit in the afternoon.
Conundrum didn't look up as I left. He hadn't talked to me since I'd mentioned the money. Rejoining the Night Guard was beginning to look appealing - the captains were just as bad, but at least I would have Orion to complain to.
Where did I go wrong to start considering this? I might not have given much consideration to planning out my future career, nevertheless, I had hoped to be a little better off than this.
Out on the streets, Canterlot was barely waking up. A few ponies had begun to stir, trotting out on to the roads in their multicoloured throngs. They started to stare as well. I let them stare - no point trying not to. When I first came to the city I was terrified - not only were the colours blinding after what I had experienced in our colony's cave, but the ponies were all so different. Despite this, I'm quite comfortable now - quite a few of us bat ponies live freely in Canterlot. Some pretend not to be bat ponies, and cover their wings and put on brightly coloured contacts - like my sister.
Nopony takes her seriously.
With a grunt I spread my wings and took to the air - movement was becoming more painful by the second, but I was desperate to get home as soon as possible. A hot bath and then bed; what more could a mare want? Oh - and to avoid my landlord. The rent was due today, and I didn't quite have enough. One more week and it would be there - hopefully - though that's the fifth month in a row when it's been late.
Carefully, I eased open the window. It was four floors up, on a traditional spire-like building - there was even the pointed purple and gold roof a few meters above me. Catching my wing on the frame, I fell onto the floor, limps splayed out beneath me in an ungainly fashion.
Eventually I managed to drag myself to my hooves, made a sandwich, and eased myself into the bath. Eating while surrounded by lavender scented bubbles, I sighed happily. Sometimes, I loved living alone - no one could tell you what you can't do. A previous coltfriend of mine had held some rather ridiculous ideas about how our house should have been run. He didn't last long.
I might have fallen asleep there, if it wasn't for the hammering at the door. I prayed to the stars that it wasn't my landlord.
Rapping a towel around my dripping mane, I trudged slowly to the door, shaking drops of water out onto the wooden floor. The banging was just as insistent, even though I'd taken a good ten minutes to come and answer it.
"I'm not home." I called out hopefully, leaning against the door in case they tried to force it open.
"Of course you are!" a high, refined voice wailed, "You can't lie to me, Turny - now open this door."
I gave up and unlocked it, letting in the young mare. Her mane had been carefully styled into luscious curls, letting the light fall pleasantly on the deep pink and violet hair - a shade I knew was dyed. Her velvet jacket fitted her curved figure well, and covered over the wings tucked in at her sides. She glanced over at me, pink eyes wide and innocent, as they always were when she wanted something.
"Auntie Turny!" A small filly squealed at me, throwing herself against my leg.
"Lulu!" I gasped, returning the hug, but wincing as she squeezed the bruising flesh. She was a pretty foal - a coat as white as the Moon, and her mane naturally curly as it fell from the ponytail it had been tied into. Her pastel blue eyes stared up at me hopefully.
"I was hoping that you might look after Lullaby for the day," my sister announced, fiddling with the bangles around her foreleg.
"Why - are you busy?" I snapped back, more harshly than I had intended - though not without good reason.
"Whatever do you mean?" she cried, her pride wounded, "I have many responsibilities, which often keep me too preoccupied to provide full time care for my daughter. I have a very difficult life as a single mother!"
"You can drop the act with me, Fantasia," I hissed. Softening my tone, I turned to my niece and said, more kindly, "why don't you go get a snack from the kitchen, Lulu?" The filly scampered off before she could hear the ensuing argument. "So, new stallion or is it still that fat one - Pecan Pie - wasn't it?"
"His name was Soufflé, for your information. But no - he didn't get along with Lullaby-"
"-you mean he didn't want to date a mare with a foal-?"
"-so I finished the relationship." She ignored me and brushed some imaginary dust from her shoulder.
"You can hardly call it a relationship - it must have been more of a passing acquaintance if you've already broken up."
"I met this stallion last night after my gig," she continued, "Dreadfully handsome; he thought I sang quite beautifully. Incredibly proper - suggested we go out for lunch today rather than coming back to his house for the night."
"Better be careful - you might come across too strong for him," I smirked, letting her see it. Her tail flicked like it did when she was angry, but she held her tongue like the lady she wasn't. This was a mare who after a hard night out on the town had stumbled up to a guard outside the castle and told him that her name was 'Easily Pleased'. Heck - this was the mare who told me she likes it when stallions lick her face!
"So you'll look after Lullaby?"
"What do you think?" I might not have gotten along with my sister, but I had a soft spot for my niece. Everypony did - except the filly's mother.
"I'll pick her up this evening, if that's alright?" She flicked her mane back and trotted back to the door, "Thanks, Sissy!" The door slammed behind her as I cringed - I hated it when she called me that.
Stifling a yawn, I trudged into the kitchen, finding Lullaby perched on the counter, nibbling on the last cookie in the tin. Her albino wings were unfolded and relaxing in the morning sunshine, causing the pink veins beneath the skin to show. If it wasn't for these wings, it was almost impossible to guess her heritage. A pretty blue and pink striped mane, the white fur, the pastel blue eyes - not a trace of dark fur or sinister eyes.
"What time is it, Lulu?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and pouring a glass of milk for the filly.
"Quarter to eight," she announced proudly; they had been learning how to tell the time in school. Wait - why wasn't she going to school?
"Don't you have school today?" I glanced over to see her giggling behind a hoof, as if it were an inside joke I wouldn't understand. "What's so funny?"
"It's Saturday today." She took the glass, but I reclaimed it before it could spill. She would not stop laughing.
"I knew that," I insisted, "I was just testing you." The look in her eyes told me she knew I was lying. I put the milk back in the fridge and pulled Lulu off the counter, resting her on the safety on the floor along with her milk and remaining cookie. "Anyway - I'm off to bed. Wake me up if you have any problems. I left your paints in the cupboard, your toys are in the box by the sofa, and your books are on the shelf - keep your hooves off of mine." I had caught her looking at one of my terrible romance novels a few weeks ago - we'll just say that the content isn't appropriate for impressionable foals. Actually, the content isn't appropriate for anypony, and I don't mean because it contains 'adult content' - it was just an awful book. We'll just say that 'Twilight' - the epic romance of a simple unicorn and her bat pony lover - was less interesting than the contents of my bins.
"Don't let the bed bugs bite!"
"I'll just bite them right back!" I laughed as I scooped Lulu up, ruffling her mane and blowing a raspberry on her exposed tummy. She squealed gleefully and squirmed back to the floor. "I'll take you out for lunch this afternoon," I promised, leaving her to entertain herself. If I'd had it my way, she wouldn't have to spend so much time alone, but Fantasia didn't earn enough to send her to a daycare, so when she was busy Lullaby got left with either me or our mother. Neither of us had time to look after her either - we just made more of an effort.
I settled into bed thinking about little Lulu - she was a bright pup and incredibly enthusiastic. From what I had heard, she was also quite popular at school, though she kept to her own small group of friends. We had all worried about the teasing - with her being a bat pony, and having a useless mother who couldn't remember who her father was - but foals don't worry about that sort of thing at their age. Once they'd gotten over the wings, I think they forgot that there was anything different about Lullaby.
Tired, cosy and sore, I overslept. It was nearly three o'clock when Lullaby finally jumped on me, complaining that she was hungry. Every muscle was now painfully stiff, but the rumbling of our stomachs forced us out of the apartment (we left via the window again - I noticed my landlord loitering in the hall).
Having been short of money for the last few years, I'd found several cafes around Canterlot that weren't extortionately priced. The one I led Lullaby to was a small affair that you could only reach through a tight alleyway cramped between two competing clothes stores, up a flight of stairs, along a balcony, and down into a dark courtyard. Just how I liked it - one problem as a bat pony was that we were all half-blind during the day. A pair of dark sunglasses made the light manageable, and some did chose to live during the day; I, on the other hoof, still preferred to avoid the Sun's glare.
We sat outside at Lullaby's request - even in the shade, the Sun was scorching the very air we breathed. Well - I might have been exaggerating - but compared to the cool nights I was used to, I might as well have been sitting in an oven. Lullaby didn't mind it and was practically bouncing off the walls as we ordered.
While she had left to go to the toilet (sometimes I forget how small foals' bladders are), a waiter came over with our food. He was new, and looked like he'd only just left school. He sauntered over with confidence, our plates suspended in his purple aura.
"Your food, ma'am," He said with a strong Trottingham accent, laying down the food with a flourish. His mane was messily swept upwards, in a way that tried to look like it required no effort, but had probably taken up a good hour of his day trying to perfect. A pair of sea green eyes met mine as he smiled. "I thought you only came out at night."
"I like to see the Sun every so often to remind myself why I avoid it."
He appraised me slightly, lowering his gaze slightly. "It'd be nice to see you one night - I've got a bit of a thing for bats."
"Are you asking me out?" I replied bluntly. I had to admire his forwardness, but I could tell he was far too young for me, and I never dated stallions that took longer than me to get ready. Which gives them about ten minutes tops. Nevertheless, I humoured him slightly; leaning forwards and letting my eyes soften innocently - it's not just my sister who could play at this game. The difference is that I have standards and limits.
"Maybe I am - why? Would you be willing?" He didn't get a reply, because little Lulu had just returned in the nick of time. Exclaiming brightly that her hay fries had arrived, she jumped up to the table and began to eat heartily. Of course, like the responsible adult that I am, I had made sure that she had some salad too. Whether she ate it or not was a different matter.
"Oh, you have a foal?" he seemed slightly put off, but recovered quickly by saying, "You know, I really admire mares that manage to raise a foal on their own - takes a lot of control and self-sacrifice."
"And if you don't mind - we were spending the day together - so if you'll just run along...?" He took the hint.
The food was, as always, perfect, and we had soon finished. Leaving before the waiter could come back (I left him a tip in apology), we strolled out onto the streets, enjoying the pleasant afternoon.
All through Canterlot, preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration were under way. It was going to be big this year - the celebrations being held in Canterlot with three princesses attending; it should be a good show. Though, after the fiasco a few years ago with the princesses being captured by evil plants, security was tighter than ever. I seem to remember that was the reason I chose to leave the guard - the final straw on the donkey's back, so to say. Not that I was allowed to resign for another few years.
It was nice to enjoy the festivities without having to be on duty - bright banners hanging across the streets, and ponies beginning to gather for the all-night parties set to take place. I laughed at them in their excitement - you'd think the night only happened once a year before the celebration.
In the hustle and bustle, nopony noticed us weaving through the crowds, giggling to ourselves. Call me irresponsible, but I was telling Lulu ridiculous stories about the ponies of Canterlot. As soon as I had come to Canterlot, I discovered that foals were often told folk tales and other such nonsense about the scary creatures that roam Equestria. You soon realize that a lot of them involve bat ponies stealing foals in the night, or gobbling them up if they don't eat all of their vegetables. Somewhere along the line, somepony got the idea that we were immortal, blood thirsty monsters that lured away young mares. The wild imaginations some ponies possessed amazed me.
So in return I told Lullaby that they left offerings of cupcakes outside of caves to appease the dark spirits they believed lived there. Why dark spirits would want cupcakes, I didn't know - but it was worryingly believable. Don't get me wrong - I didn't think we should hold silly prejudices - I just found it too difficult not to make fun of them.
"Auntie Turny?"
"Hmm? What is it, Lulu?" We were just coming out of the most congested areas, and I had started to turn our route towards home.
"Will you take me over the pretty houses?"
Now these 'pretty houses' weren't just any random places in Canterlot. It was a few months ago when I was flying Lulu over Canterlot - to try and teach her a bit about flying, you understand - and I'd taken her over the posh bit (if you can even single out anywhere in Canterlot that's posher than the rest) with all of the private villas and homes of the insanely rich. You would get some funny stares if you just went walking through the streets, but soaring over it was a privilege I was willing to exploit.
Well, I'd be willing any other day, if my entire body hadn't been in agony.
"I had a nasty fall yesterday, Lulu - I don't think I can carry you that far today."
"But... but I bet you've done worse..." she glanced at me, her dark pupils stretching to breaking point. She could kill somepony with that stare. "...when you were a guard, I bet you wouldn't let a little fall stop you..." My career in the guards had ended after Lullaby had been born, so she'd been brought up being told exaggerated stories about her brave aunt who fought off manticores single-hoofedly and was on first name terms with the Moon Princess herself. Neither of those things were true, but she was too young to hear about what we actually got up to. It involved a liver-cripplingly large amount of hard apple cider and some potent Griffon whiskey we'd nicked.
But none of that compared to the look Lullaby was giving me now. It was as if my internal organs were shriveling into raisins while my heart swelled up against my rib cage, breaking bones mercilessly while I fought for breath. I think a vein burst in my eye as well.
"Okay... but just a short flight." She squealed and jumped onto my back, practically strangling me and she wrapped her hooves around my neck.
"Thank you!" I sighed - if I was the brave, experienced soldier, well trained and deadly, Lullaby must be the lethal assassin; you don't see her until its too late and you're already lying on the ground convulsing with sheer adorableness.
Gasping slightly, I shot us into the sky, muscles protesting but soon falling back into the rhythm of flight. It was turning into a beautiful evening; the sky streaking pink and blue and gold. I hadn't realised it was so late. This had better be a quick flight - Fantasia would be coming to pick Lullaby up soon.
I glanced down - we were just getting over the houses and their extensive grounds. Half of the reason they cost so much was because they took up so much ground space; when you live on the side of a mountain, all space must be conserved. That's why half of Canterlot is made of towers and swirling columns.
They were quiet beautiful really - some a bit ostentatious - but otherwise they practically shone in the fading light. I adjusted my sunglasses slightly. Several parties had started, though with a polite elegance with all of the guests in their fine frocks and fancy suits, with canapes and fluted glasses being given out by smartly dressed waiters. A funny thought entered my head as I wondered if Conundrum was going to do anything special this year; he forgot last time. Perhaps I could hang a festive little paper sun in the office.
We had nearly finished our flight, with Lullaby still ooing and aahing as we passed some of the finest houses. I could change direction and start to head back; the flight had taken us completely the wrong way to get home.
It was then that I heard the scream.
Instinctively, I scanned the ground, trying to distinguish where the sound had come from. There were several more cries as I searched. Then I found the source.
Angling down, I felt Lullaby tighten her grip as we plummeted to the earth, landing heavily in the resplendent garden of a private manor.
"Stay there and don't move!" I helped Lullaby off and galloped towards the group of ponies. One of them, a chubby pink mare, had fainted slightly away from the group.
"Gently! Gently, speak to me!" I pushed aside a couple of ponies and dropped down beside a lilac mare. She was trying to hold up a large stallion whose coat was stained crimson.
"Excuse me, ma'am - I have medical training!" I tried to get a better look at the stallion - the wound wasn't large, but it looked deep, and sunk down into his chest. It has probably punctured a lung at the very best. I rapidly covered it with my hooves and turned to a blue unicorn just coming out to the garden
"Fetch some thing to stop the blood!" He froze, obviously shaken, but nodded and backed into house. "Make it something large - some towel or a pillow or something!" I glanced down at the patient. In combat, I would have carried something to help with the pain, or something to knock a fully grown stallion out. On lucky occasions there would even be a handy unicorn with a stasis spell. As it was, all I could do was sit there trying to check his shallow breathing and think straight.
"Who do you think you are, and what are you doing!" A haughty voice boomed. A hoof reached over me, dragging me back from my work.
"I'm trying to help!" I screamed back, "Go call for a doctor - anything - just-"
"You could be killing him for all we know!" The alabaster stallion before me shoved me back, and looked to the bleeding wreck. I did too. It looked bad.
"Let her help, Enterprise! She'll be more use than you!" a new mare was knelt down, blood staining her grey coat.
"It will start drinking his blood if we let it!"
"Will somepony just call a doctor?" I shouted again, briefly wondering why nopony had brought something to stop the blood. Automatically, I pressed back down on the stab wound, finding myself uninterrupted this time. "Seriously, why is nopony helping!" I stared around me, desperately needing to know why the world had gone so red.
"Leave him be!" I heard a mare cry hysterically. The next thing I knew, I was lying unconscious on the floor.