Utaan

by Imploding Colon


A Warm Rush Of Blood

Somewhere...

Deep within ancient rock and time-weathered granite...

A pegasus guard in a silver helmet stood beneath a single torch protruding from the wall above. The faint whistle of cold, howling winds echoed down the curved corridor. He blew on his hooves, rubbed the fetlocks together, then held them towards the flame overhead. After much fuss and effort, a slight smile crossed his lips, and he started to feel more at ease.

Around that time, a pair of hoofsteps rattled from a distance, growing closer.

The guard flinched. He jerked in place, threw his silver horseshoes back on, and stood at ready. As the hoofsteps approached, they were accompanied by a dim glow of candlelight. He craned his neck, squinting through the visor of his helmet to see better.

The candlelight drew closer, bobbing like a lantern bug. At last, the guard made out two faces—one of a stallion and the other belonging to another armored guard.

“Who goes there?” the pegasus asked.

The guard scuffled to a stop and cleared her throat. “At ease, soldier. This is—”

Ahem...” The stallion shuffled past her with a calm smile. “Please, madame. Allow me.”

“Oh. By all means. If you insist.”

“Oh, and I do! After all, doing the introduction is over half of my function. Ahem.” The stallion came to a stop, chin tilted up. “I am Professor Theanim Mane of the Ninety-Seventh Rohbredden Scientific Order.”

“Uh huh.” The pegasus nodded. “I'm guessing you're here to see the freak?”

Theanim sighed. “I do believe—even at this venture—the most appropriate term is 'suspect of questionable motive and conviction'. Let us leave the rest of his designation to Goddess Verlaxion, thank you very much.”

“Mmmmf. Whatever you say, Professor.” The pegasus nodded at the other guard. “I'll take it from here.”

She nodded and stood in place in the corridor.

Flapping his wings in the chilly air, the pegasus lifted up to grab the torch.

“No no no...” Theanim shook his head, waving a hoof. “Please. Do leave it.”

The stallion squinted down at him. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” Theanim smiled. “Trust me. It will be for the best.”

“Alright, then.” The pegasus landed and trotted down a series of winding steps. “Follow me. And keep close, Professor.”

“That I shall.”

The guard led him through a winding passageway. At one point they passed a horizontal slit of a window, through which blinding gray light shone—along with the occasional drift of lazy white snowflakes. Theanim shuddered slightly, but withstood the cold. His ears twitched from howling winds and the muffled sounds of sobbing prisoners above and below him.

At last, they reached the end of a particularly long hallway. Within a deep niche—untouched by sunlight and torchlight—was a barred cell echoing with drips of moisture.

“Verlaxion's Sleet...” The guard shuddered. “This place is abysmal without torchlight. You sure you don't want a fire?”

“If you're so concerned about your prisoner escaping, my good gentlecolt, don't be. You can stand out here if you need to.”

“I'll be close by, Professor,” the guard said while rummaging through a thick set of keys. “Just holler if you... if you... well...”

“There'll be no hollering today, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

With an audible click, the guard opened the gate. He pointed a hoof in. “There ya go, Professor.”

“Much appreciated.” Theanim trotted through the door. The guard fastened it behind him, locked it, then shuffled backwards so that he was just beyond earshot of the cell.

Sealed off in the cold, pitch-black chamber, Theanim felt his way forward. He fumbled for a bit, then came to a stop against a wooden table and matching chair. After a deep breath, the Professor spoke, his voice echoing off the cold stone walls.

“I can hear you breathing, old chap,” Theanim said. “It's not nearly as labored as last time. Does this mean you're eating the food they've brought for once? You do sound healthier.”

Silence.

And then: “Do you want the truth, Theams? Or something that will make you feel better?”

“Don't pretend to forget who you're talking to, Echo.”

More silence.

Up above, Theanim's vision barely caught sight of a black outline against the darkness, hanging upside down. A pair of limp wings drooped while the figure stretched his legs.

“This cell used to be crawling with rats,” Echo said, his voice strangely warm, even mirthful.

“Oh... I-I'm terribly sorry.” Theanim winced. “Certainly I can ask a guard to get right on that.”

“No. You... you don't understand. The rats are gone now.”

“Oh?”

“... … …do you really think I would have settled for these flankholes' prison food?”

Theanim opened his muzzle... then rolled his eyes. Adjusting his goggles, he sat down on the chair with a sigh. “Well then...” He smiled. “How did it feel to be on the hunt again, old chap?”

The body flipped right-side up, landed, and twirled towards Theanim with a flash of fangs. “Bucking fantastic.”

“My oh my...” Theanim leaned his chin on his hoof. “You're rather chipper this time.”

“Do... do you really think so?” Echo's figure paced left and right across the dark, dark chamber. “I-I mean... yes. Blood feels good. Fresh blood. I don't care if it belonged to a flea bag or not. It was just so fresh and warm and... and toasty...”

“I really do apologize for the frigid conditions of this prison wing, Echo,” Theanim exhaled. “You must understand. It's the only part of the installation that's dark enough to handle—”

“Mother of Nightmares on a bike, Theams, will you please stop apologizing?!” Echo grumbled. With a grunt, he plunged to the floor. There, he did rapid push-ups on his hooves. “Grnnngh... I bet even the mares' wing of the prison isn't as pussified as you.”

“Well, when I managed to finagle a transfer from Shoggoth, I was... somewhat hoping you'd get a better place to stay.”

“Look. A prison's a prison. You could be anywhere and still be miserable. This, I know.” Echo hopped back onto all fours and resumed pacing. “I also know that there's a fire inside me that can't be snuffed out. It's been burning at all hours of the night since you found me in Rust. I... I feel like... like I could fly loops around Frostknife! I mean... I can't, of course, but the feeling is there, at least! And my senses! Everything here smells rotten, rank, and festering—and I love it! Because it's real! And I-I know it's real! And I'm... I'm...”

“Did you ever think you would come this far?” Theanim leaned forward. “So many years living dull and dead beneath the surface of your coral smoking, and I imagine the tiniest ripple in reality feels like an exhilarating mountain now.”

“It's... it's unlike anything I've ever experienced before. And yet, it's not.” Dull silence. The sarosian's body drifted forward until Theanim could make out the faint outline of a melancholic muzzle. “Theanim... I am... very sorry that I ever doubted you.”

“I'm not.” Theanim smiled warmly. He reached out and touched the stallion's shoulder. “Resistance and frustration is part of the healing process. I only wished that you could emerge from such a grave to find far homelier circumstances.”

“Mrmmfff...” Echo's nostrils flared. “It was either that or the mother bucking firing squad beneath the ocean.”

“Old Chap.” Theanim shook his head. “Camellia's guards were not about to execute you in Shoggoth.”

“Right. So now, instead of rotting away on the ocean's floor, you've brought me here to be executed by the Right Talon of Verlaxion!”

“Echo, don't even pretend to joke!” Theanim frowned. “You're far too valuable alive, after all! Your knowledge of the inner workings of Mudtop and the Syndicate is crucial to future investigations—”

“Heheheheh...”

Theanim stomped his hoof. “Stop laughing!” Huffing, he folded his forelimbs. “Honestly. You can be... s-such a foalish agitator at times!”

“It never fails to amuse me. I'm the one in prison, and you're the basket-case.”

“You're the only pony these days with the intuition to perceive that, old chap.” Theanim sighed. “Believe me. Everypony on the outside has been gnawing on their own fetlocks over what's happened in Rust, Shoggoth, and beyond. I feel like I'm the only sane stallion in all of Rohbredden.”

“How goes the quest to pacify the Council of Verlaxion?” Echo asked.

Theanim leaned back, exhaling. “I do believe that's an impossible task.”

“Is that your scientific assessment?”

“Science and reason won't hold sway over these bureaucrats. Remember that account I shared with you about the Scientific Order's presentation on Continental Cooling two centuries ago and how the Council at the time blatantly ignored them?”

“No.”

“Guhh...” Theanim rolled his blue eyes then muttered: “The point is... the Council has this historical aversion to rationality and logic. In its place, however pathetically, is an undeniable affinity for pathos and melodrama.” Theanim's jaw clenched. “The true powers that hold sway in the Council are those that arouse paranoia, pity, and rage—the unholy trinity of political action.”

“Sounds really shitty,” Echo said. “Why do I get the feeling that somepony's already gunning for your scalp?”

“I... wouldn't know about that.” Theanim cleared his throat. “I've spoken with the Council before, and on every occasion I never made enemies.”

“Yeah, but when was the last time you actually tried legitimately convincing them of anything?”

“Mmmmm... good point.” Theanim shifted where he sat. “I suppose I could conceivably have formed some rivals since the last declaration I made before the Magistrates.”

“Any idea who?”

“I'd... rather not jump to conclusions,” Theanim said, shaking his head. “Right now, the most important thing is delivering the truth as well as I can.”

“Hmmmmmmmmm...” Echo tapped his fanged muzzle.

Theanim arched an eyebrow. “What's going on in that leathery head of yours?”

“Simply that—for a stallion who seems to know how broken the system is—you're trying really dayum hard to work outside of it.” Echo shook his head. “I don't think that's going to work so well for you in the end.”

“What would you suggest?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Theanim gestured. “You said it yourself. Your head is clear and your blood is warm for the first time in ages. I would like to think that you can put all of that to good use.”

Echo said: “You're hell-bent on proving Rainbow Dash's innocence in light of all of these accusations and suppositions, right?”

“Absolutely, old chap.”

“I'm not sure stacking our evidence against theirs is going to make that happen,” Echo remarked. “If you really want to impress upon these stuck-up bastards and bastardettes, then you'll need to stoop to their level. Appeal to the meat in their hearts, not the bone in their brains.”

“I don't quite feel like that's a valid option.”

“Hey...” Echo shrugged. “You're the one sounding pessimistic about it all.”

“It's rather simple, Echo,” Theanim said. “What these ponies need is the truth. And the truth—above all else—is pure and irrefutable. What I must find a way to do is to present the truth in a way that is obvious and decipherable to every Magistrate in existence.”

“And this will somehow convince them that the 'Rainbow Rogue' is nothing to be afraid of?”

Theanim did a double-take. “You...” He squinted in the dark. “How did you hear about that?”

Echo shrugged. “It's a small prison. A cold prison.” He waved a shorn fetlock. “Also, the guards are bored.”

“You don't say...?”

“Blitz Steel.” A fanged smile. “He chats up his bunkmates about the Rainbow Rogue and her monstrous 'life-leeching' abilities all the time. And Feather Faith? Her two little foals at school like to play games of 'catch the Rainbow.' It's apparently all the rage, and they're already passing rainbow masks around the marketplaces in preparation for the festivities of Unification Day.”

“Blessed Goddess...” Theanim leaned back. “Look at you!” He grinned. “Getting friendly with the natives... especially the natives that have you under lock and key.”

Echo shrugged. “I was bored. They were bored. We connected.”

“Is it wrong that I feel strangely proud of you?”

“Is it wrong that I never understood how special that was?” Echo blinked across the cold chamber. “I mean... I-I know I've been a real dickface to you, Theams, and there have probably been times when you wanted to strangle me. But somehow... you kept on chugging and...”

“Echo, it's quite fine—”

“You saved my life, Theanim.” Echo shuddered. “You... saved my life. And now you're trying to save Rainbow. It's... it's very...”

“Friendly?”

“... … ...I was going to say 'noble.'”

Theanim blinked. He was about to say something when—

Echo's body jerked.

“What is it?” Theanim asked.

“Guards. Lots of them.”

“Are...” Theanim turned around. “Are they coming here?”

“No.” Echo shook his head. “But they're galloping somewhere... and fast.”

Theanim stood up in time to hear the massive echo of clamoring hooves. He peered through the bars, watching as armored guards rushed up the stone steps with candles and torches. Echo retreated further into the shadows behind him while the scientist called out:

“Hey! What's all the commotion about?”

The pegasus who escorted him there shuffled up towards the bars, breathless. “It's the Right Talon of Verlaxion, Professor. They've been spotted flying into Frostknife.”

“I knew it! The firing squad!

Theanim rolled his eyes, then grumbled over his shoulder: “Calm down, old chap. They're here because Grand Magistrate Hymnos summoned them to the Court.”

“They're assembling within the hour,” the guard said. “I trust you would wish to attend?”

“Wouldn't miss it for all the rice of the steppes,” Theanim said. He looked over his shoulder again. “Echo...?”

“It's alright, Theanim. I understand. Duty calls.” The voice lifted back up to the ceiling, twisting upside down. “Go get 'em, ya old bastard.”

“Right.” Theanim waited as the guard unlocked the door from the outside.

“And Theams...?”

The door creaked open. The scientist turned and gazed up at the dark roof. “Yes, Echo?”

“About Rainbow Dash...” The leathery shape fidgeted. “Have ever you stopped to consider...”

“Consider what?”

“... … ...that what they say is true?” A pair of hollow eyes gazed in Theanim's direction. Vapors drifted in the cold prison air. “...that she really did do all of those bad things to the monks and their holy Reed? What then?”

Theanim's ears drooped. After a sullen breath, he murmured: “Then let us hope, by Verlaxion's grace, that I'm able to reach out to her before the Right Talon does.” Bearing a faint smile, he bowed. “Take care of yourself, friend.”

“Somepony already has.” And Echo's figure disappeared behind the cold shudder of iron bars.