//------------------------------// // Chapter Sixty-two // Story: Freedom Through Harmony // by Electricut //------------------------------// Chapter Sixty-two Manehattan, side street Phil “So... What now.” Trixie said, summing up the situation nicely. The black mage, human phoenix and two retired Wonderbolts all stood in the shade of one of the towering buildings of the big city, obscured from view in the pale morning light. A frigid wind blew through the alley. Phil tightened his jacket idly, keeping his head down. Now more than ever, he had to keep a low profile, since there were proportionately more royal sympathizers in Manehattan. In addition, there had been an alarming amount of soldiers around since they arrived hours previously. If what Xekora had said was true- that an execution was getting ready to take place- then it only made sense that there would be tighter security. “Does anyone have any money to check out a place at the inn?” Misty asked hopefully. She sighed disappointedly when she got no response. “Figures. Fine, we’ll have to set up camp outside the city borders. Great. That won’t draw any attention at all.” “That should be the least of our worries.” Phil stated. “We’ll figure something out for sleep later. Our prime concern should be figuring out who’s getting killed, when it’s happening, and if there’s a way to stop it- all before Celestia shows up. By then it’ll be way too late.” “Problem is actually doing that.” Soren concluded. “We have no contacts in this city, so we don’t have anyone to ask. It won’t exactly be easy going up to random people and asking about one of their guys getting killed. That just screams outsiders and interference. Still...” He stretched mightily. “If I’ve learned anything over these past few years, it’s that people are far more willing to talk when drunk out of their minds. I’ll take it upon myself to find the nearest tavern, and get right on that.” Soren tightened his own jacket and strode off, leaving Misty shaking her head in annoyance. “Some people never change... but he’s got a point. I know from interrogating him while he’s drunk. Anyway, let’s just split up and see what we can find out by ourselves. Meet up by... That statue over there, around sunset. That’ll give us plenty of time to find something and get back with it.” ______________ The other three missionaries set off across town to try and find some leads, but were met with little success. When they found someone who wasn’t in the vicinity of one of the grey-and-silver armored soldiers of Eclipse, they were unable or unwilling to provide any substantial information. Phil wished they could provide even the tiniest detail he could latch onto- what happened, where, when- who it was that did whatever happened was a bit much to ask for, and he would have taken anything- but came up frustratingly empty. Halfway into the day, Phil sat slumped up against the wall of a building, across from the statue in the center of the district. He waited silently for the others to arrive and give their hopefully-better status reports, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. The usual idle thoughts filled his head: trying to plan the group’s next move, calculating possible routes of escape and field advantages should a fight suddenly break out- but missing Twilight was right up there too. He sighed glumly. In addition to things again and again not going as he had planned for the group, Phil had his own personal problems to deal with. Namely, his current life cycle coming to an end. He’d done an excellent job of hiding it so far, but that last fight with Trixie had taken a lot out of him. By his calculations, he had about two weeks to go before becoming next-to useless, and another month from there to be reborn good-as-new. While resting against the building, he decided he’d bring it up to his allies as soon as he got the chance, so they could be prepared. Phil’s attention also lingered on the ancient statue at the center of the square. It took him a moment to place, but he soon realized that this statue was the very same described by Rainbow Dash- the one he, his brother, and Fluttershy and her sister had passed by seven years ago. Curiosity piqued, Phil stood and moved over to the statue for a closer look. It was worn with age, the once dagger-sharp details now hazy, but the general picture of the fierce warrior was still there. As Dash had described, she was depicted with shoulder-length hair, alert but not unkind eyes, and the distinct armor belonging to only the highest-ranking soldiers of old Dawn. In her left hand was a long katana, and her right was in a sling before her. Phil bent down to brush his hand across the plaque beneath her feet, the words written in the ancient language that was disused almost immediately after the civil war. “What did he say this said... General Madeline, was it?” Phil stood and backed up a few paces, viewing the statue with silent honor. Despite how precious little memories remained from before the war, General Madeline remained an influential figure in the region that was once Dawn. Old heroes die hard, he supposed. Madeline was a brave warrior- a terror in battle, but a compassionate and generous person in life. It’s exactly that kind of person that should be leading us... I wonder if we can use her as a rallying point for this city... “Phil.” A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Trixie walking up behind him. “Find anything?” Phil shook his head glumly, and she sighed. “I couldn’t get much out of them either. Whatever happened, it’s being kept down low... It hasn’t been easy avoiding all these royal soldiers, either. I think some people might know what happened, but they’re too scared to talk. Phil, I think this town needs us more than anyone. Once we’re done with this mission from Xekora, whether we stop it or not, we need to stick around and...” Trixie paused to make sure no soldiers were listening in, but Phil already was nodding knowingly. “I thought that too. We won’t leave them to suffer, don’t worry. And I think General Madeline here might be able to help us.” Trixie looked up at the statue, and her eyes lit up. “Brilliant... I think you’re right.” The two waited for a few minutes, still waiting on the Wonderbolts to report back on their progress. Eventually, Misty approached them quickly, Soren in tow. When she reached them, she stopped short, and Phil noticed she was hiding the fact that she was catching her breath. She may have wanted to remain inconspicuous, but she was excited about something, and also looked a bit worried. “Did you find something out?” Phil asked, leaping to his feet. “I didn’t. Soren did. Finally found a good use for his constant drunkenness, eh?” Misty dropped her voice as she approached the two younger fighters. “Let’s not talk about it here though. Too many unfriendly ears. There’s a good spot half a mile or so from the city where we can camp out for the night and discuss things.” _______________ “What!” Trixie exclaimed, after the group had made camp and gathered around a campfire. The sun had only just set, and Misty was confident no royal soldiers would be this far out after dark. The news the two Wonderbolts had to deliver, however, made Phil wish they were just up against some soldiers. “The execution’s tomorrow afternoon.” Soren confirmed. “We’re a little late. I don’t know where that Xekora guy of yours gets his information, but it was a bit stale, and we don’t have many options left to us if we’ve got to save this person.” “Do we have any options left?” Trixie countered dryly. “It’s only a little better that it’s happening in the afternoon, that gives us a tiny bit more time, but I don’t know what we could do with it. Do we still not know who it is that’s getting killed, or what they did?” Everyone shook their head, and Phil’s heart sank just the same as Trixie’s must have. “Then I just don’t know what to do.” “They always keep their top-priority prisoners in some unused building, instead of the local prison.” Misty commented. “Y’know, in case people like us come along trying to mess it up. That’d be fine and dandy if we weren’t in a huge city like this. We could look and look all day tomorrow and never find the place- and even if we did, the odds of actually finding it before the prisoner is moved out are slim to none.” “Then we’ve been screwed over before we even began.” Trixie concluded, putting her head in her hands. “Xekora, what did you think we could do...?” Phil remained silent, the gears turning in his head. Xekora thought they could do something about this execution, and Phil had no doubt that there was still something left to be done. He couldn’t figure out what it was though... It seemed like the only chance they had was to somehow locate where the prisoner was being kept, but with how tight-lipped the city’s people had been already, he knew that would never work. Something was nagging at the back of is mind, some tiny detail he had uncharacteristically overlooked, but he couldn’t place it. Reluctantly, the group decided that nothing could be done for the night, and they’d have to try their luck with locating and escaping with the prisoner tomorrow. It wasn’t much of a plan- no-one thought so- but it was all they could currently do. With lowered spirits and foul tempers all around, they all turned in for sleep, or at least silent rest. Phil couldn’t find sleep, and he doubted anyone else was having much luck either. He turned over in his sleeping bag, his eyes open fractionally. He noticed Soren holding something above him, viewing it idly in the moonlight. Phil opened his eyes fully to see what it was. Soren held it above him with both hands, but Phil could see it was some kind of crystal, with eight identical, symmetrical faces, shaped like a diamond. A dull yellow light pulsed in its center, and the moonlight shone through it and cast small shards of refracted light onto the ground. “What’s that?” Phil asked quietly, only loud enough for Soren to hear. The older warrior stiffened, not expecting the sudden question, but relaxed immediately. “Oh. Didn’t think you were still awake, kid. This? This is, uh... Well, it was a gift from Spitfire. Y’know, before she... Before she left. Anyway, it’s a pretty nifty thing to have. Not sure where she got it, but it’s an ancient artifact imbued with a kind of healing spell. It takes some practice to use right, but anyone can use it.” “A healing spell that anyone can use...” Phil repeated, storing the knowledge away. “Man, that is useful to have... Hey, wait. Do you think... Could we use that to help stop this execution? Like, could we use it to save the prisoner?” “Er... I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, or if it could even work.” Soren replied, and Phil’s excitement was shot down. “See, it’s not your typical kind of spell. This one has some give and take to it. Like... Oh, try to think of it like cookies. Now bear with me here- you’ve got a bunch of cookie dough, and you’ve just used a cookie-cutter to cut out a bunch of shapes. Now you’ve got all the leftover dough spread out with a bunch of holes in it. So whad’you do with it? You roll it all up and spread it out again, so you can get a few more cookies out of it. “Well... this spell is like that, only with life instead of cookies. This spell takes all the leftover lifespan in a person who’s hurt, then uses it to heal them. Please don’t ask me to explain that- that’s just what Spitfire told me, and I just left it at that. I guess it means the life that person was going to live? But the exchange isn’t exactly equivalent either. When the person is healed, a good chunk of their lifespan just got shaved off, and they’re going to have to die sooner. Their aging rate is adjusted as well, so they’ll age just like they were going to, only over a shorter period of time.” Phil stared in wonder and slight horror, and Soren chuckled ironically. “ Like I said, give and take. It can fix you, but it’s a pretty steep price to pay. That, and the fact that... I haven’t actually used it yet, and don’t know if I could, makes me think it wouldn’t be a great idea to count on this spell to get us through.” Phil agreed that it was too risky to use, and turned back over to dwell on his own thoughts. He had heard of spells like that- ones that were the very essence of a particular spell stored within a crystal, usable by anyone. They were hard to make, though, and not very practical, so they were disused and the technique to make them forgotten long before the civil war. Phil supposed it only made sense that a few had survived all this time, but once again he was in wonder that he was in the presence of such an ancient artifact. He wasn’t sure about the awful drawback about the one Soren held, though. None of the other crystals were said to have a draw from them, but he couldn’t think of a reason Soren would lie. Someone had to have purposefully set up the spell to work like that- but what horrible mind would be willing to give men the ability to monkey around with people’s lives? ________________ The group woke up before dawn the next day and set off for the city again, taking their valuables but leaving camp set up where it was. They needed every second they had at their disposal to try and find the prisoner, and began as soon as the local guards opened the gates to the city. By magic light the group searched, scouring the least used parts of Manehattan, searching desperately for any sort of royal stronghold. They soon found it to be tricky business, to seek out the royal guards while avoiding them at the same time. Phil and Misty had formed one party, while Trixie had partnered up with Soren to search the opposite side of town. Misty led Phil through a district featuring several warehouses, the obvious place to start looking for a makeshift prison. However, if there were any royal guards around, they didn’t make themselves obvious. Both took to gliding through the streets, gradually ceasing to care who saw and gave them odd looks, gradually growing more and more tense. Phil was getting desperate. He still didn’t know who they were supposed to be saving, but Xekora said it was very important that they save them. And while Xekora was usually exactly the type to over stress things, Phil had never seen him in such a rough shape as he had two nights ago. He knew it must be a matter of life or death that he find the prisoner and help whoever it was escape, and he felt like the world was closing in as he ran out of time. Growing close to panic, he and Misty rounded another corner, and breathed a sigh of relief, then tensed more than ever. A full platoon of royal soldiers was gathered in the street, preparing to march. A few more knights emerged from the cellar of an adjacent building, leading someone outside and to the center of the platoon. That’s got to be it! We’ve found the prisoner... but there’s no way the two of us can take on a whole half a platoon apiece. Phil’s mind began to work faster and faster as he tried desperately to put together some kind of game plan, but he couldn’t see any good way out of this. The guards led the prisoner out of the cellar fully, and Phil was able to get a good look at her for the first time. She was in pretty rough shape, with horribly messy, untrimmed hair, dirty and dusty clothing, and wings that were missing a good chunk of their feathers. Both her hair and wings were once brilliant gold, but now were dulled by the dirt and lack of sunlight. Her eyes were blocked by a black blindfold, and her hands bound behind her. All of a sudden, something clicked in Phil’s mind. He realized exactly what it was he had been forgetting all this time, the one detail missing from the equation. Fear gripped his heart, and he knew now how important it was that he do anything possible to stop this. Because the prisoner being executed was Creiddylad, Fluttershy’s older sister.