Chapter 19: Slavery and Education
"Damaged unicorn for sale..."
"Hi guys!" I called. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. She's a white pony with one wing."
Walking towards a slaver's camp is not recommended behavior, unless you are big, tough, well armed, accompanied by more thugs than they are, and are looking to buy. I was none of the above. In fact, I was counting on my small, crippled female body being exactly what they were looking for to supplement their line of "products". I had heard of this bastard called Bukov who had a fetish for physically challenged fillies. When I heard about him, and his attempts to buy Demi, I had put him on my list of bastards to deal with later, as I was too busy trying to catch up with Demi herself. Hearing the two slavers at this camp discussing getting a bonus for recapturing Demi and delivering her to Bukov merged my two quests. Now I had to kill Bukov, and free Demi. I briefly wondered if Bukov was as bad as the rumors suggested, then recalled that his slave buying habits were fact. That was crime enough. So what made me think I had the right to bump him off? Was I the law? No. I think it was a lot more personal than that. I was going to retrieve what I felt was mine, and thump him for taking it. My definition of "mine" varied somewhat from that used by Bukov. Demi was mine, not his. Demi was mine, not by my choice, but by hers. I didn't care what Bukov had paid; he had no right to take her against her will. He had no right to "own" another pony.
I stopped walking just far enough from the slavers that they could not simply grab me, and any attempt they made at pulling a weapon on me would result in my escape. They would have to entice me into their grasp. The two, both earth ponies, looked at me, then each other, their facial expressions telling a story I suspect I wasn't meant to read. Both were relatively well groomed, and wearing the light barding favored by those who used weapons to intimidate rather than to actually fight. In fact, my barding wasn't that different, as, despite recent events, I was not a warrior, despite my training. One of these fellows was tan, with a gold mane and tail, while the other was gold with a tan mane and tail. Both bore cutie marks depicting manacles and chains, suggesting they had been raised into the slavery business. Despite these similarities, they were clearly not related. Their builds and facial structures showed no family resemblance.
"Ah... yes," one began, looking at me. "White pony with a brown filly as a cutie mark. Cutie mark sort of looked like you."
"We did see her when she came past here. We talked for a while, and she told us where she was going," the other added.
"Could you tell me please?" I requested, limping forward a step. There was no mistake. They really had seen Demi and recently. Her cutie mark had only appeared while we were down in Stable Four.
"Oh dear, what have you done to yourself?" the first slaver asked, ignoring my request. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the bandage showing above my prosthetic.
"Umm..." I responded, "it's really embarrassing, but I lost my leg."
"Really? Can we help?" the second said. "Does it hurt? Show us please. We'll treat it."
I could almost see them thinking. Okay, get the filly to disable herself then grab her. That plan could work. "Oh, no," I responded. "It's fine. The false leg just gives me blisters sometimes. You said you saw my friend. Where was she going?"
"Oh, there's this really great place over towards Canterlot. It's safe, and a lot of other fillies your age have left their homes and moved over there," the slaver answered. What a wonderfully creative description for a gathering of slave fillies tending to the desires of an unsavory character like Bukov. Well, that may be a stuff up on your part. If I'm her friend, wouldn't she have told me this before? "Demi never told be about this place. I'm her best friend," I stated. Did I want to catch them out? Not really. I already knew what they had done.
"Oh, that's easy to explain," the second slaver responded, pausing and gathering his thoughts. "We told her about the place, and we walked together for a while. She said she didn't think you would be interested, but that she would come back for you if it turned out to be a nice place."
"I'll tell you what," the first slaver suggested, "We can guide you there, if you like. The journey there isn't really safe, so we could protect you, and see you get there, like we did with your friend."
Significant story slippage already... Careful guys, or you will blow it! And for Celestia's sake, don't say 'yeah, that's what happened'!
"What, you'd do that just for me? I don't have anything to pay with," I paused "Why would you help me?"
"Hey, it's no big deal. We are already heading in that direction," the golden one lied. Well, if they got me to cooperate, it wouldn't be a lie anymore, would it?
"Oh, all right," I agreed. "Thank you." I approached them, wondering if they would grab me, and was a little surprised when they didn't. Perhaps deception would be their preferred tool. I hoped so. Walking all that way while wearing chains would be hard! No doubt they would have had to rely on the latter method for Demi. There was no way imaginable that she would voluntarily be led away from me, or towards the fate from which I had rescued her. I wondered how much a fight she had put up.
"Are you right to go?" the golden pony asked.
"Yup," I answered. "How far?"
"Oh, a little over half a day. It's in the suburban outskirts of Canterlot, not the poisoned center," the gold slaver replied, beginning to pack the few items he had out of his saddle bag. "What's your name, missy?"
"Annie," I responded, hoping that Demi hadn't been telling them that her friend Anne the cyborg warrior was going hunt them down, and if she had, Annie was different enough that there may be some doubt.
"I'm Golden Delicious, and he is Chain Mail," the golden stallion said. "I'm a merchant, and he is my guard."
"Pleased to meet you," I responded, not meaning a word of it. A merchant, eh? One that was dealing in pony life. I'd kill them too if I got the chance. Hmm, I was starting to sound like a murderer, killing ponies who did not live in ways I approved of. It wasn't just my moral code these bastards had violated though, rather the ancient laws of Equestria itself. There may not be ponies enforcing those laws anymore, but no one had ever repealed them. No, I was wrong; there were ponies enforcing these laws, and we did so by issuing and executing death sentences. I had heard the evidence, directly from their own mouths, what's more. Irrespective of how they treated me, they had been found guilty, and their sentences passed down. All I needed was the correct time to carry the sentence out, and that would be after I finished using them.
"You are a unicorn. What sort of magic can you do?" Chain Mail asked, stowing the last of his possessions. Oh, here we go. Let's see how dangerous this unicorn is.
"I can do the usual unicorn stuff, like picking up stuff and moving stuff around. Only small stuff though." And given the opportunity, I'll stuff a gun up your butts. Stuff that, you bastards.
"Anything else?" Golden Delicious asked.
"Yeah, watch!" I responded. I noticed they tensed for a moment, before I activated my cleaning magic, but they relaxed and smiled after my hair bristled, and a cloud of wasteland dust ejected itself, followed by my coat and mane turning silky smooth. "How's that! I don't need to waste water to bathe, because I can wash with magic!"
"Very nice," Golden Delicious answered. "Is there anything else you can do?"
Third degree. Keep asking until you are sure I am harmless. Okay, I'll give you another one. "If I try really really hard, I can sort of heal wounds, but it leaves me very tired. Healing potions work better," I admitted.
"That's convenient for emergencies. Ponies don't always have healing potions available," Golden Delicious stated. "What about your cutie mark? A screw driver and a wrench? How does that relate to your magic?"
"It doesn't, other than I use my magic to manipulate the tools. I like tinkering with old tech. Sometimes I can even fix it," I stated. That was the truth, sort of.
"And what about showing us your leg. It's a long walk, and I want to make sure you are up to it." Golden Delicious tried. He was getting insistent. Either he was about to go for the "grab the filly" move, or he wanted to check that I really was of value to Bukov.
"Oh, okay," I responded, triggering the release spell on my power armor prosthetic, and lifting my shortened leg free. Both slavers glanced at each other, smiles on their faces. Now would be when they jumped me, if they were going to, but they remained as they were. I unwrapped my bandage, then held up the stump for them to examine. "See, it's okay at the moment," I said. I began to wind the bandage back on.
"What's that blue bracelet?" Golden Delicious asked, indicating my Pipgirl, where it was gripping my leg up near my shoulder.
"In that is the spell that lets me walk with the metal leg, and take it on and off," I answered. That wasn't entirely true, now, was it? At least they didn't recognize it for what it really was. I inserted my bandaged stump back into the prosthetic, and triggered the attachment spell, flexing the artificial leg when I was done. "All good. I'm ready," I said, smiling.
Bullets whizzed past, thudding into the embankment behind us. We had fallen foul of a gang of raiders a couple of hours into our trek towards Bukov's place and were now taking refuge in a shallow creek bed or drainage channel; it was so eroded, it was hard to tell which it was. On any normal day, I would have been blowing their brains out, but today I was Annie, the three legged teenager, not Anne the trained assassin. Fortunately, I was still free to move about. Had I been chained, I would probably have taken a few bullets while trying to get to shelter. Of course, I'd let out a scream of fright, and was now curled up in a ball on the ground, hooves apparently over my ears. In fact, I was both listening carefully to what was going on, as well as watching, ready to leap into action should it be required. If the slavers died at the hooves of the raiders, I would have to revert to my real self, and kill the bastards.
Staying low, Golden Delicious practically crawled towards me while Chain Mail was bobbing up and taking pot-shots from different locations along the embankment.
"Annie, can you use your magic to help us please?" he requested.
"How?" I asked.
"Maybe you could levitate this gun up and shoot at them," he suggested.
"I don't know how to shoot," I stated emphatically, "but maybe I could throw things at them?"
Golden Delicious groaned. "Oh, okay. Do that then."
Perhaps that hadn't been a test, but a genuine request. I didn't really care, as I didn't intend to break cover if at all possible. So instead of firing at the raiders, I backed myself into the bank nearest them, and used my magic to grab small rocks, sand and sticks from front of me, then throw them backwards over my head.
"Aim more to your right," Chain Mail called to me, so I obliged. I must have hit one of the raiders, because I could hear him cursing. After a few moments, Chain Mail stood and fired over the embankment again. He was rewarded with a scream. He ducked down again, and moved to a new spot.
"Aim further right still, Annie," he instructed. I did so, and he rose again, firing a few shots, before he fell back, bleeding from a cut across his face.
"You okay, Chain?" Golden Delicious asked.
"Just peachy. How about you stick your bloody head up and shoot as well this time. Annie, throw up a sand storm if you can."
"Okay!" I responded, flipping myself back onto my hooves. I reared up, so I could see the raiders, and used my pushing magic to throw up a sand storm and aim it at them. When the raiders started yelling obscenities, both of the slavers stood and started firing.
It was all over a few moments later, and I let the sand storm drop. I let myself drop back down into the creek bed, and just sat there silently, while Chain Mail healed his minor wound by drinking some healing potion. Golden Delicious left the creek bed, and was gone for several minutes. I knew he was up there looting the dead, as I would have been, had I not been role playing. When he returned, he had some extra guns, which he passed to Chain Mail, before walking over to me.
"Well done kid. Thanks for your help," Golden Delicious praised me. "Now let's get going. Is your leg still okay?"
I nodded in response, then stood, waiting for them to take the lead. Soon we were out of gully and on our way again. If I didn't know better, I would have started to think these guys were okay sorts of ponies. Perhaps they were. Perhaps this wasn't an act. All the same, even if they were nice guys, they were still slavers. Maybe they treated their slaves better than some of the slavers I had encountered, but that could simply be to fetch a higher price. If they really did turn out to be genuinely decent ponies with a nasty habit, perhaps I could encourage them into a better career path. Bah, I was over analyzing again. At the moment the situation was simple. All I had to do was use these fellows to get me into Bukov's place, effectively bypassing any security, so I could execute the bastard and get my Demi back.
"Near Canterlot" is a description that is open to interpretation. Ponyville is "near" Canterlot. Stable Four is near Canterlot: more so than Ponyville. The same could be said for Bukov's place. No pony in their right mind would want to live in Canterlot itself. Actually, it was debatable as to if a pony could live there at all. I had no intention of finding out what that toxic pink cloud would do to my systems. I had heard it worked as a form of welding agent, bonding just about anything to anything else. Ponies got stuck to pavement, clothing and equipment got stuck to ponies. Items stuck to each other. Yes, I'd give it a miss.
Meanwhile we were approaching Bukov's place. For the last half an hour we had been making our way along degraded streets littered with abandoned carts and strewn with rubble and bricks from buildings that had collapsed over the last two centuries. Some buildings had obviously long been empty, apart from roving vermin and the skeletons of their original occupants. Some had lost their roofs and were unfit for habitation. Some surprisingly appeared to be lived in, though of the ponies themselves I saw nothing. Closed and barred windows and doors were their defense against the world; worn paths and fresh litter around the outside were the only clues to their occupancy.
Now up ahead was an old hotel, and it was in reasonable repair, and the only way that was possible was if someone had been maintaining it. It was quite impressive and neat from the outside. Some areas of it even looked like they had seen recent paint! I counted four stories at the highest point, and three stories on the wings. If this was all Bukov's place, and I was assured it was, there was plenty of space to keep a selection of slaves. They could well be kept comfortably at that!
As we approached, I was able to pick out various guard positions, some obvious, some hidden. There were at least three places that looked like they held snipers. That made me glad I wasn't having to break in. It also complicated escaping. I really didn't want us to be shot on the way out. I wondered if any of the slave fillies were capable of fighting, and if they would be prepared to help.
We passed through the outer gates, the slavers and guards not even exchanging words. Clearly they slavers were known here. As we approached the hotel, Golden Delicious guided me towards a secondary entrance to the left of the grand lobby. Other poor fillies were probably led or dragged through here screaming. I could see hints of struggle scratched into the path. When we were near the door, Golden Delicious stopped, indicating I should also.
"I will have to ask you to remove your prosthetic leg now," he said, his tone bordering on demanding. This was not unexpected. I was a slave after all, even if no pony had acknowledged it so far. I imagined that if I was to be displayed for sale, it would best if all of my assets were visible.
"Sure thing," I responded. "Want me to freshen up too? You'll get a better price that way."
Golden Delicious almost choked. Chain Mail looked as if someone had whacked him across the back of the head. I chuckled as I activated the spell that removed my prosthetic leg, triggering the inbuilt Steel Ranger spell that folded it up into a neat little package. The spell was adaptive enough to work even without the rest of the suit of power armor present, and the result was around the size of a small hoof-bag. I unwound my bandage, folding it across itself, then tying it to the string my water bottle was hanging from. That done, I brought up my cleaning magic, and gave myself the full treatment, going for maximum sexual appeal. I did want to get in, after all! I cast an attachment spell to the purse shaped prosthetic, and levitated it up and stuck it on my back, just below my neck.
"Yes, guys, I know you are slavers," I said with a smile, "I'm not complaining. Hey, you got me here safely, after all, but let me tell you, if my friend isn't here, I will hunt you down!"
Golden Delicious snorted. "Oh, she's here. That we didn't lie about. Tell me, why are you so casual about this?"
"Are you kidding me? Nice safe places for a three legged filly to live are few and far between. Bukov gets a bit of flank action while I get to sleep with both of my eyes closed. Win, win," I chirped. "And best of all, I get to be with my lovely Demi."
Golden Delicious was laughing by now, and not a malicious laugh either. "Girl, you are something else! I can see Bukov getting into some hot filly action. Let's go get this done."
I hopped into the waiting room ahead of the two slavers, then climbed onto the small circular platform where they indicated. It was only a step up from the floor, but it made me feel really conspicuous. The slavers approached the counter, and rang the service bell. Shortly a stocky old mare appeared. Her coat was of a greyish green, and her mane, which she had tied up in a bun, was grey.
"Oh, its you two again," she said. "You've already been paid for the half-pegasus, so what do you want?"
"Oh, we'd like a chat with the boss," Golden Delicious said. "We have more dealing to do."
"You were lucky finding the last one. Don't expect the same treatment every time, lads," the old mare warned. "I doubt you have found such quality goods that warrants the boss' personal attention a second time."
"And that, Mable, is where you are wrong," Golden Delicious stated with a smirk. "Look over here."
The old mare was silent for a short while, before leaving the counter then entering the room by another, secure door. "What have we here?" she asked herself, walking over to me. She paced around me three times. "Three legs. Good balance. Plain coloration, but coat in excellent condition. Well presented." She suddenly stopped when she noticed the lack of chains "Unrestrained?"
"She's quite amenable," Golden Delicious said with a shrug.
"Does she know why she is here?" the old mare asked. Clearly the goods were not expected to partake in the discussion.
"She seems to," Golden Delicious confirmed.
Mable stopped pacing around me, and looked me square in the eyes. "Virgin?" she barked at me.
"Yes, Ma'am," I responded. That I didn't have to lie about.
"Even has good manners," Mable commented. "I'll get Mister Bukov."
I watched Mable walk away, wondering if I would kill her as well. So far she seemed to be part of the establishment. It was possible she was a slave, but I didn't see Bukov wanting to keep around such an old mare, and he certainly couldn't have owned her since she was young. Then realization hit me, and I shuddered. Bukov couldn't be a ghoul, could he? That would definitely have given him time to build up such an empire. How many poor filly slaves....?
"Annie, do you have a problem?" Golden Delicious asked, noticing my shuddering.
"I don't think so, apart from the fact that I am currently being sold. I've never been sold before," I paused. "Do yourselves a favor and find a different avenue of employment, guys. Most ponies don't like having their freedom stolen from them. Put yourselves in their place and give it some serious thought," I suggested. Apart from their disgusting way of making a living, these guys didn't seem too bad. Maybe if we met up again and they had changed their ways, I could let them live. I really didn't want anyone other than the New Appleloosa doctor calling me the grim reaper. What's more the "slain" from that battle had lived.
After a few minutes I could hear Mable in the distance, returning with another pony. For what seemed like an eternity, I heard their hoof steps getting louder. Not a ghoul please. Not a ghoul please. I really hoped it wouldn't happen, but there was every chance I would lose my virginity to this bastard. I wasn't going to blow my cover until I knew I could get Demi to safety. Finally I heard a pony speak, and he sounded normal. Was this Bukov? He emerged from the door through which Mable had left earlier, and I was pleasantly surprised. Although he was a bastard, he was a handsome one, perhaps in his fifties. His coat was fawn, flecked through with grey, and his mane and tail were mostly grey, with streaks of dark brown. His eyes were sapphire blue, and glistened like gems. Wow. He really did look good. I hated him even more, but let my subconscious reaction display itself. It would be best if he thought I liked him! He walked over to me, pacing around me twice, looking me up and down.
"So, what do we have here? We have a familiar looking brown, three legged filly," he stated. Familiar looking? Had my reputation preceded me? Was I already doomed? I remained silent. Bukov paced around me again. "You recently made friends with a white, one winged pegasus filly, and you impressed her so much that somehow a picture of you appeared on her flank. And now you are here because you are looking for her. Am I right?" Bukov had stopped walking and was staring directly into my eyes.
"She looked after me when I was injured. That is how she got her cutie mark," I responded.
"Looked after you? I find it hard to picture that little minx looking after anyone," Bukov stated. "When she was initially sold to me, I was assured she was a quiet, sullen little thing. Since then, she's been off gallivanting around the wasteland for a few weeks. When she was finally returned to me, she had gained that cutie mark, and quite an attitude to go with it. What do you have to say about that?"
"She must miss me," I answered. "I miss her."
"So you came here? Freely? I can see you are not restrained," Bukov said. Okay, that was a trick question, or at least one requiring some thought before answering. If I came here freely, then the slavers may be out of pocket. If they captured me, then I hadn't come freely, had I?
"When I realized Golden Delicious had brought Demi here, I saw no reason to fight or try to escape. Nonetheless I could clearly see that if I did try, I would soon be restrained. It is much easier to walk without chains on, so I didn't resist and allowed them to bring me here," I responded.
"What of your freedom?" Bukov asked. This was starting to sound like a job interview! I was expecting to be physically inspected, but not questioned! I wonder how often Bukov talked to his potential slaves. Was this special treatment for me? Did he suspect my real reasons for being here? Once again I wondered if he had some idea as to who I really was, and of what I was capable. For all I knew, that blabbermouth DJ Pon-3 had broadcast to Equestria about the three legged filly that took out the steel ranger. 'Bringing you the truth, no matter who it hurts,' or whatever that catch phrase was.
"It's dangerous out there!" I exclaimed. Let's hope that answer worked.
Bukov broke out laughing. "I like you, girl."
I saw Golden Delicious and Chain Mail looking at each other, a hint of a smile on their faces. Maybe they would get their pay day.
"Mable, pay these Gentlecolts the full sum. Quality like this deserves reward." Bukov instructed. "And take the newcomer over to the education wing, and put her with that one winged minx. Perhaps that will calm her somewhat. They might be best enjoyed as a pair. I want a progress report by tomorrow evening."
With that, Bukov strode from the room, leaving the four of us exchanging glances. I had to admit I did feel odd in this situation, even though it was not the first time I had been considered a product. Last time I had been brainwashed using memory removal spells via my horn. Would such spells work on Demi? I doubted it, as they were having trouble with her. Nonetheless, I had no doubt that the education wing was designed to break the spirits of any who fought, to turn them into compliant fillies that could only obey. I wondered how much education I was going to be subject to. Actually, I might not be subject to any. Once I had Demi, I could move onto the next stage of my plan, if I could call it that. But for the moment, I would continue to play the well-behaved slave. I remained exactly where I was, silently watching as Mable counted out, then passed over bags of caps to the two slavers. They never even looked back at me, stashing their gains in their saddlebags, then quickly exiting. I really hoped they would change their profession, if only for the sake of the fillies they would otherwise capture.
When the door shut behind them, Mable looked up from behind her counter and addressed me. "Your name, girl?"
"Annie," I responded.
"And the rest of it?" Mable prompted.
"That is my full name, Ma'am."
"You are a lucky filly, Annie, but do not let that go to your head. Your life could rapidly become miserable. Most fillies that come here go into solitary confinement when they get here, only coming out for their education sessions. I have never seen Mister Bukov allow someone in education to have a friend with them. Make sure you use that privilege to get that pegasus to be more agreeable. If she continues to resist, both of your lives will become a lot more... unpleasant," Mable warned.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Now, come with me, and I will take you to the education wing," Mable instructed.
Stairs. I hate stairs when I only have three legs. This pedestal I was on was effectively a stair, and with only one front leg, I would be forced to hop down, rather than gently lower myself... unless... unless I moved my rear hooves forward, changing my center of balance. I tried it, finding I was able to ease myself down quite gracefully. Excellent. What I needed to do was nurture a frame of mind in which I was a three legged creature, not a four legged creature that was missing one leg, as I had been doing up until now. A little experimenting with my gait soon resulted in me walking along happily, with all traces of hopping eliminated. While it took some concentration at the moment, I could feel my body and mind adapting. This was interesting. I wondered if I could set up alternative gaits for faster travel.
What I noticed while traveling towards the education wing was the interior of the building was as well looked after as the exterior. There were no piles of rubble, scattered pony bones, peeling paint and wall paper, or discarded items, or any of the other telltales of the typical post-apocolyptic building. Bukov's slaves must do a lot more than entertain him in bed. Perhaps that particular task was saved for his collection of crippled fillies.
"You move well for a pony with a missing leg," Mable suddenly stated.
"I think I'm finally getting the hang of it," I responded. "For a while it was two steps, hop, two steps, hop."
We arrived at a pair of solid double doors. They appeared to be mahogany, and were very beautiful to look at. To our left was a series of ornate lockers, while to the right was a large painting of two alicorns, presumably the princesses, although in the style they had been painted, it was impossible to be certain.
"I will have to take your possessions from you before you go into education," Mable said. "Do you have anything other than your water bottle, the bangle, and that purse?"
"That purse is my prosthetic leg, all packed up tiny," I explained.
"You will not be needing that around here," Mable said. "Put it in locker number four."
I obliged, unsticking the packaged leg, and levitating it, the water bottle and bandage into the indicated locker.
"And the bangle, please," Mable instructed.
"Indeed," I responded, bending forward as if to look at it, thus blocking Mable's view while I hit the release spell. I didn't want her seeing it could change size to fit as required. It would be best if she thought of it as jewelry. I levitated it from the floor and casually tossed it into the locker with my prosthetic leg and water bottle.
Mable pushed the door shut, and I heard the latch click. Visible on the front, apart from the number, was a key hole, and nothing more. While it technically meant I no longer had access to my Pipgirl and leg, it also meant that they would be relatively safe for the moment. If I really wanted them back, I could always use my magic on the lock, or the door. Perhaps I would form a pleasant little window on the front when the time came. Mable then walked to the mahogany doors and pressed a well disguised button. I could hear the subdued ringing of a bell beyond them. Shortly the doors opened inward, revealing a... unicorn stallion. Description evaded me for a few moments. He was the color of sand, his mane and tail the color of damp soil. His eyes were hard and cold, and he had a distinct presence, one from which I wished to run. With the doors open, I could now hear the quiet whimpering of a few scared fillies. This stallion was no doubt the reason. He must have had Bukov's full trust too, because he looked whole. I would not have been surprised to find a gelding in this role.
"Eddie, Mister Bukov wants this one treated well. He likes her as she is. You are to put her in with the one winged pegasus. Mister Bukov believes that will pacify the pegasus somewhat," Mable instructed.
Eddie grumbled. "Hot irons would also pacify that little minx, and if the boss didn't want her unmarked, I would have already used them. Thank you Mable."
"Girl, come with me," Eddie instructed, leading me into the education wing.
Despite the beauty of the hall on the other side of the doors, this place was truly ugly, complete with cages, and pony skeletons, although the arrangement of the cages suggested they were meant as intimidation, rather than for actual use. The bones in them had a patina consistent with those that had been lying about since the war. To my left was a table bearing assorted papers, and several golden rings, just the right size for unicorn's horns. Seeing them sent a chill right through me. I knew what they were - magic suppressors. If you pop one of them onto a unicorn's horn, they were powerless to remove it, or to use their magic. I didn't know if I was going to be subjected on one, but it was a good bet. Fortunately I had been trained for such situations, back in Stable Lab Four. I quickly chanted the spell I had been taught. The spell was one of last resort, because it disabled my magic itself, and would last for approximately half an hour, but that was just the side effect. An invisible magical cap formed around the horn itself. Now any suppressors or memory orbs would not work. In the case of a ring, it would slip on and sit there like intended. I had until the spell wore off to get rid of it.
"I may have to treat you nicely, but that doesn't mean I trust you in the slightest," Eddie stated. "And one thing I cannot afford to have is untrained unicorns running about using their magic. Until I get the time and approval to educate you, your magic will be suppressed. Do you understand?"
"Yes, it means for the moment I am an earth pony," I responded, as he levitated up the golden ring and forced it down on my horn.
"Close enough," Eddie said. "Now I am going it toss you in with the minx. Yell if it gets too much and I will let you out and get you some healing potions."
Wow. Go Demi. Tear strips off the bastards... Oh... I hoped it was Demi! The last thing I needed was to be tossed in with a violently insane pony when my magic was suppressed. Eddie led me down the row of cells. From several I could hear whimpering or crying. Just how many fillies did this bastard have? It looked like I was going to have to rescue another 'stable' full of cripples. This hero crap was getting old really fast! Damn it! All I wanted was my Demi back. Eddie stopped at a cell that was completely silent.
"She's in there. Stand right next to the door," he instructed.
I did so, and a translucent, pinkish sphere formed around me and the doorway, flattening somewhat against the hard surface. A force field? A pink force field? Eddie, the macho stallion's magic was pink? I almost giggled. Eddie remotely released the door and it swung open inwards, and the force field collapsed around me, propelling me into the cell. As soon as I was clear, the door slammed shut. I turned in time to see the remains of the force field as it dissipated. That left the cell quite dimly lit. I turned to look for....
"Eeeeyouch!" I suddenly found myself yelling, as a bundle of fury plowed into me, sinking its teeth into my hide.
Footnote: You thought you were at Maximum Level, didn't you. Situations change. Level Up. Perk: Tripod. You have adapted to compensate for your missing limb. Your basic movement and travel allowances are no longer affected by it.