Quill Scratch is a writer with a past unlike any that Twilight Sparkle has ever heard, but as they create a universe together, she will learn that harmony isn't everywhere.
Quill Scratch arrived in Ponyville in a matter befitting the very stories he wrote; dragged to town bloody and broken by Twilight Sparkle. Three years later and with writer's block, he has been making do by getting whatever work he could. But when Twilight needs his help on an assignment, he finds the need to not only write, but to tell his own story.
The chilled autumn breeze whistled through the sunset coloured leaves of the apple orchard as clouds drifted lazily overhead. One cloud however, was not like the others, as resting upon the top was a sleeping figure. His snores blended perfectly with the sound of the wind, disguising him from the outside world, just as he had planned. His dark blue wings had curled themselves around his body as he slept, instinctively protecting his blue shirt clad chest from the cold.
Not awakening from his slumber, he rolled over; the edge of the cloud breaking away under his weight. Under his own design, that particular cloud was significantly lower than the others around it, but still high enough to make it look like a stray. However, under the volition of no one but the wind, his makeshift bed had drifted over a lake, leaving the unlucky man with a rude awakening as he hit the cold water and sunk beneath the surface.
When he arose, the first thing he did was to curse the cloud for being faulty; swearing to himself that he would discuss the weather patrols budget cuts with the mayor. The second thing he did was blush uncontrollably at the sound of hysterical laughter that hit his ears.
“Wow Quill, good job there,” said a light female voice. Quill Scratch dragged his soaking wet form out of the lake, the tips of his now useless wings dragging in the dirt. It took a moment for him to realise that he had lost one of his shoes in the confusion.
“Luna damn it,” he muttered as a woman with a mint green jacket walked over to him.
“That’ll teach you to skip out on work,” said his housemate-slash-landlady Lyra. Not far behind her was Lyra’s girlfriend Bon Bon, who had been the original source of the laughter, and indeed, still was. Lyra scratched the tip of her horn that was protruding from her light green hair as it sparked in reaction to the cold.
“But Ink Blot is such a slave driver,” Quill moaned, shaking his wings feverishly in a futile attempt to dry them out.
“I know, but if you want to keep paying my outrageous rent, you’re going to have to go some time,” she joked, grabbing Quill by the shoulder and forcibly turning him to face the lake. “That also might help.” Quill followed the path of her outstretched finger to a spot right in the middle of the lake, where a black leather wallet was bobbing up and down on the surface. “Celestia damn it,” he muttered again, giving his wings one powerful flap to propel him further into the centre of the lake. Grumbling as he pulled himself back onto the bank, wallet in hand, Quill walked over to the park bench where his friends were resting and slumped down, breathing heavily.
“Dude, you really need to exercise more,’ said the lithe unicorn Lyra.
“Yeah, you’re so out of shape,” continued the not-so lithe Bon Bon. Quill gave her a look which seemed to let her know what he was thinking.
“Yeah well, as a writer, I don’t really have to be all that fit,” he replied dryly, raising himself off the seat and leaving a sizable wet patch behind. Quill Scratch had initially moved to Ponyville three years ago in an attempt to find some peace and quiet in order to continue his writing, only to be robbed on the way there and left with nothing, aside from a broken wing. Lyra and Bon Bon had graciously offered their home to him once he had recovered, under the premise that he would reimburse them when he had the funds. Since then, he had barely kept up with his end of the bargain with the residual royalties from the books had had written in the past, such as ‘The temple of the Pegasus monks,’ ‘Six sacred elements,’ and his pride and joy, the book that Princess Celestia had commissioned him to write; ‘Super Naturals: Natural remedies and cure-alls that are simply super.’
“Look Lyra, I know you want what’s best from me, but I can’t keep writing fluff articles about the Apple family cider season or Rarity’s new fashion line for fat people. I can feel myself going insane. I need to write something with more bite,” he explained, giving the two girls a look of frustration mixed with sheepishness. Lyra sighed, looking a Bon Bon and then back to Quill.
“I understand Quill, really I do, but let’s face it, ever since you got attacked that time, you haven’t written anything original.” It was true; Quill had been so traumatised by the event that he wasn’t even able to pick up a pen until six months had passed. “True, but last night I had an idea,” he said excitedly. “How about an epic adventure story about a girl who must find a cure for vampirism as she is hunted to the ends of Equestria by her former doctor, who in reality is a retired monster hunter?”
Quill HAD been expecting an excited look or two, only to receive straight up laughter instead. “That’s the best you could come up with?” Bon Bon laughed. “That’s terrible!” “And a little cliché, I mean, Vampire stories are kind of on the down turn at the moment anyway, saturation of the market and all,” Lyra added. Quill considered this for a moment, clicking his fingers as an idea sprung to mind. “How about a Lycan instead?” he suggested and the girls gave each other a look, before shrugging and nodding in agreement.
Upon realising that his fingers had lost all feeling and were starting to turn blue, Quill headed back to their house in town, ignoring the amused looks on the faces of those around him. In the distance he noticed a young woman walking toward him. If the distinctive purple sweater-vest and black rimmed glasses hadn’t given the unicorn’s identity away, then the sheer fact the she was one of the most famous people in Equestria would have.
Twilight Sparkle raised an eyebrow as she studied him, noting his drooping wings and blond hair firmly stuck to his face. “Let me guess; the weak cloud broke out from under you and the mayor needs to give more money to the weather factory so they can make stronger clouds,” she joked, her voice deepening as she imitated him. He just rolled his eyes and nodded. “I maintain that it isn’t my fault.”
“Strange, that’s what Derpy said that time she dropped a piano on my head,” Twilight replied. “But hey, I actually had something to ask you; Princess Celestia made a point to tell me that I spend too much time reading books and not enough time writing them, and since you’re the only one in Ponyville who’s actually had anything published, I thought…”
“Say no more, I’d be glad to give you some tips,” Quill said, giving her a wide smile. It had been Twilight had had discovered his unconscious and profusely bleeding body lying on the road outside Ponyville, and the only person who had come to visit him in hospital, so he felt like he owed her at least that much. “Actually I was hoping you might be interested in a collaboration, it might help me get into the swing of things better,” Twilight corrected, surprising him greatly. “S-sure, that sounds like fun.”
“Awesome, how about you come around to the library sometime after lunch tomorrow so we can brainstorm?” the unicorn suggested, receiving a simple nod in return. “Great, I’ll see you then.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Quill with a stunned look on his face. All of a sudden he was aware of someone beside him. “Look at you making dates with the librarian,” said Lyra in a high pitched voice, giving him a wink and a nudge. Quill furrowed his brow and gave her a frown.
“It’s not like that; she just wants some help writing.” “If that’s the case, why are you standing there looking like you just saw a cockatrice?” “Because you were right before; I’m still too freaked out to write a single word.”
***
The following morning, Quill Scratch woke up and simply lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. While he was excited to spend some time with Twilight, the prospect of writing any kind if fiction was terrifying. The desk in the corner of his room was littered with pages of half started stories and quills broken in half in frustration.
Quill threw the covers of himself and got dressed, baggy jeans and a long sleeved shirt emblazoned with his cutie mark; a red quill writing in an open book. He made his way over to the window and pushed it open, sighing calmly as the wind brushed against the feathers of his wings. Just as he was putting his leg through the window, intent on taking a shortcut to his morning fly, he heard the sounds of muffled shouting coming from downstairs.
“Use the front door! I’m tired of closing your window for you,” shouted Bon Bon. Quill chuckled at the level of routine that they had gotten used to. Deciding to surprise her, he did what he was asked, closing the window and making his way to the kitchen, where he found a large plate of hay bacon and eggs waiting for him, still steaming hot, something Quill was not used to.
“What time is Twilight expecting you?” Bon Bon asked, ever determined to meddle in his love life. In the past she had tried to set him up with multiple women, which was a nice gesture on her part, but ultimately fruitless. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in women; he just found talking to them extremely difficult. Ironic, given his career as a wordsmith.
“About lunch time. It should leave me enough time to proofread that article on the school fete and get it to Ink Blot,” he replied, referring to his job at the local newspaper. He didn’t mind the work, the sheer fact that it had gotten him back into writing to some degree meant that he was ever grateful to Ink Blot for giving him the position. What he didn’t like however, was that he was always assigned the articles none of the others wanted to do.
“Well you’ll have to tell me all about it when you get home,” Bon Bon said, giving him a sly wink and making him do a spit-take with his cup of tea. “Why does everyone think that me and Twilight are dating? We really don’t spend that much time together,” he coughed, eyes watering as his body tried to evacuate the tea from his windpipe. Bon Bon just turned back to the kitchen and started to hum loudly. “Cadence damn it,” he muttered, knowing full well that he had been caught his friend’s trap.
***
“And just where the hay were you yesterday?” asked the gruff voice of Quill’s boss; Ink Blot. His grey moustache twitched as the older man’s mouth curled into a scowl. He suddenly shot to his feet, pointing a stubby finger out the door at one of the staff photographers.
“You, I want pictures! Pictures of Mare Do Well! Go!” he shouted, making both of them jump. The photographer hurried away, leaving the now scared Pegasus alone with his enraged boss.
“I uh… was working on something,” he lied, smiling in the hope it was convincing. Ink blot grunted, sitting back on his large chair and pulling a cigar out of his jacket pocket. Quill felt himself tense up at the sight of the cigar, bad memories appearing in his mind’s eye.
“Look Quill… I like you, I really do, but you can’t keep doing this to me,” Ink Blot said, his voice returning to its usual softness. Quill hung his head low, sighing as he waited to be fired. “I know sir, and I’m sorry, but I’m just getting so frustrated with the fluff pieces that no one else wants,” he told him, feeling the need to tell the truth.
“I understand completely, which is why I’m sending you to Canterlot to interview Princess Luna,” said the elder happily. Quill paled at the sheer mention of ‘interview’ and ‘princess’ in the same sentence. “W-what?” Quill stammered, flabbergasted at Ink Blot’s complete one eighty. “But why me?” “Because you are one of the best writers I have. I gave you the fluff pieces because you were the only person with the skill to make them interesting. Did you know that our sales have gone up thirty per cent since you joined my staff and I don’t believe in coincidence,” he explained, placing his chewed up cigar in the ashtray. “Your relationship with Celestia’s prized student helps as well.”
“Now hold on there, Twilight and I are-“ “So it’s decided; Twilight Sparkle will help make certain you get the interview with Luna,” Ink Blot finished, getting up from his chair and ushering Quill out of the room, ignoring his protests.
***
“How did you get hit in the face with a door?” Twilight asked, placing and ice pack on Quill’s upturned forehead in an effort to help stem the blood rushing from his nose. He had already stuffed a rolled up tissue up each nostril, hoping to speed up the clot.
“Well let’s just say that Ink Blot is not a man open to hearing the other side of a story,” he replied, his voice made funny by the paper intruders in his nose.
“Strange given his choice of career,” giggled Twilight, placing a shirt she had levitated from the bedroom onto the table next to him. “Here, this is one of my brother’s shirts, it might be a bit big, but at least you won’t look like you just went three rounds with a timber wolf.”
Quill thanked her and got to his feet, pulling the bloodied shirt over his head, giving his wings a slight flutter to smooth out the feathers that had gotten ruffled. The white shirt Twilight had given his was meant for a person with a much broader chest then he, meaning that it was large enough to cover half of his thigh.
Just as he was about to put it on, he felt a cold touch in between his wings, and more specifically, the three long, evenly spaced scars that crossed his spine from his shoulder to his lower back. The results of the bandits that had attacked him. “Wow,” breathed Twilight, gently caressing the lumpy, pale skin. “Come on Twi, it’s not like you didn’t know they were there.”
“I know, it’s just that I haven’t seen them since they were still open wounds,” Twilight explained. Beginning to get a little uncomfortable, Quill took a step forward and put the shirt on, before realising something was amiss.
“Hey Twi, maybe we didn’t think this whole shirt thing through,” he said dryly, his wings bunched underneath the fabric with nowhere to go. Twilight giggled again, a purple light starting to form around her horn. Quill felt the tingling touch of magic make his back hairs stand on end as two holes just big enough for his wings to fit through were cut out of the white cotton. With his wings free and the strange feeling of wetness in his nose starting to subside, they sat down at a table in the centre of the library got ready to brainstorm ideas for Twilight’s project. In typical Twi fashion, she had carefully laid out enough stationary for the both of them, notebooks included, making Quill feel very self-conscious about his trashed desk at home. “Before we start, you said something about needing my help with your assignment at work?” Twilight enquired and Quill hesitated before replying.
“Okay, but bear in mind sections of the story may get a little… awkward.”
Surprisingly enough, Twilight had been quite enthusiastic about accompanying him to Canterlot, and was even willing to talk to Princess Celestia and set it up beforehand. Quill politely refused her offer on the grounds of not wanting to call in favours when they might be better served later on; if he got immediately turned away by the royal guards for example. They agreed to go to Canterlot two days later on when the weekend was finally upon them.
After their weekend travel plans were all decided the team of writers; one veteran and the other fledgling, got to work on brainstorming their collaborative effort. Or at least tried to. Twilight wanted to do a story about Clover the Clever, first student of her idol; Star Swirl the bearded. It involved a trek across the great arctic wastelands in the search for an ancient artefact that would save the earthers from a plague, all the while being hunted by a rogue windigo.
“Well the problem with that is that Clover is a great historical figure. Writing a story about her would be like me writing a story about the elements of harmony where you are all male instead. It would be recreating history in such a way that no one could believe,” Quill explained, leaving Twilight with a very disappointed look on her face. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t use the world you’ve created, but how about we change the main character to someone else; say an earther peasant.” At this, Twilight instantly perked up once again.
“Great idea!” she exclaimed happily, quickly scribbling the addition in the notebook. They decided to set it a few years before the great unification of the three tribes, when the windigos were at the height of their power and the three tribes were at their most warring.
They spent the next few hours going through the details of their universe and their main character. Keeping with Quill’s idea of an earther peasant as the main character, they decided on a woman named Heart Song. She was to be the daughter of a farmer that had suffered greatly at the hands of the pegasi and the unicorns, before eventually contracting the plague. The only skills she had were a rudimentary archery ability and a magical locket called ‘The Star Heart’ which had the ability to guide her to whatever she wanted; the cure for the plague. The rogue windigo was replaced by a trio of griffin marauders as well as a shady group of unicorn mages. The mages were hell-bent on making certain that she not find the cure, while the marauders simply wanted the star heart.
***
“Is it dark already?” Quill asked, looking out of the nearby window as the white light of Luna’s moon shone through it like a beacon of serenity. Twilight yawned, looking down at the six pages of notes they had amassed. “Well I think we can call it a day or, y’know, night,” she giggled as she started to pack up the stationary. “But hey, if you’re free tomorrow, we can keep going?” “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t tomorrow,” Quill said apologetically. “Lyra’s offered to help me find a place of my own so I don’t have to keep freeloading off her.” “Really? I thought they were both more than happy to have you stay there.” “They are, but somehow their late night ‘activities’ have gotten considerably louder and-“ “Say no more. Good luck, and I suppose that if I don’t see you around I’ll meet you at the train station bright and early Saturday morning yeah?” Twilight asked, prompting a nod from Quill, who then turned and walked out of the library with his blood stained shirt tucked under his arm.
When he thought he was out of earshot, Quill let out a loud moan that caused the strange looks from those around him. ‘I can’t believe I lied straight to Twilight’s face just then,’ he thought, smacking himself in the forehead with his palm and creating a sizable red mark. ‘You have nowhere near enough money to get your own place. You only said that because the brainstorming went a lot quicker than you expected and now it’s time to actually write. You damn idiot!’ Quill continued to scold himself for the entirety of the walk home, stopping only to purchase a box of hay fries when he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t eaten since lunch.
***
When he got home, he found both Lyra and Bon Bon sitting at the kitchen table staring intently at the front door as though they were waiting for him to get home. Quill stood awkwardly in front of them, before giving a short wave and heading straight for the stairs, trying his best to ignore the overly creepy grin on Lyra’s face.
“So… had to borrow a shirt huh?” asked Lyra and Quill grimaced, stopping at the top of the stairs and looking down at the white shirt that he had been given. “I uh, I got blood on my other one,” he replied, backing down the stairs and standing in front of them like a school boy in trouble with his teacher. He unrolled the shirt and showed them the dried brown splatter across the fabric. Quill smirked when he noticed Bon Bon starting to turn green at the sight.
“Wow, didn’t think she’d play so rough,” Lyra said flatly, cocking her head as she studied the shirt. “It’s not like that. Ink Blot did this,” Quill told her irritably. “What? HE likes to play rough?” Bon Bon asked, her back to Quill and the shirt. His wings flared in frustration and he just sighed and walked away, leaving the shirt on the table. Quill stormed up the stairs, chuckling when he heard Bon Bon starting to gag. He slammed the door and slumped down onto his bed.
Shooting a quick glance over to his desk, Quill spotted a scrap of paper blu-tacked to the shelf at the back of his desk. It was the last thing he had written before coming to Ponyville, his last piece of fiction in three years. It was simply a single paragraph; Have you ever heard the world from underwater? It’s muffled, as though everything above is a secret not meant for your ears.
***
Quill spent the next day actively trying to avoid Twilight so that she wouldn’t find out that he had lied to her. He tried his best to stay close to Lyra just in case he was spotted and had to prove that he was actually looking for a house, much to Lyra’s chagrin.
“You’re a real moron sometimes,” she snapped as she watched him look around in a panicked fashion. “You’re just drawing more attention to yourself.” “No way! I’m completely inconspicuous,” he replied as he peered around the corner of a building. “You should have just explained the situation,” Lyra sighed, pushing past him and opening the door to the florist. “But she is relying on my ability to write to help her with the assignment and you know that I owe her so much.”
“I know, I know. But think about this; she is Twilight Sparkle. Aside from her occasional bouts of insanity she has to be one of the most understanding people I’ve ever met.” She told him, putting a hand on her shoulder. Quill considered this for a moment, before nodding once and turning to face Roseluck, who had been staring at the two in a mixture of mild annoyance and curiosity.
Lyra paid for the lilies she had been sent for and together they started to make their way back to their house. All the while Quill stayed silent as he contemplated taking his friend’s advice and revealing the secret of his writer’s block. ‘How do I explain it to her?’ he wondered, silently panicking at the thought of it. It had not even been his idea to tell Lyra and Bon Bon when he had first discovered the problem. But Bon Bon had gone snooping in his room for some reason or another and had found the pile of half-started stories and horrible ideas. She had then told Lyra, who, as Quill discovered that day, was unrelenting when it came to finding the truth.
The defeated writer had had no choice but to tell them both about his word smithing impotency. They had been supportive at first, even offering to find him a councillor to try and help him through it, and even though he had declined the professional help on the grounds of not having the money to pay for it, the two girls had continued to encourage him.
It was not until midnight, as he stared blankly into a lined piece of paper, that Quill finally decided that Twilight deserved the truth. That he was not the person that should be helping her with the assignment if she wanted to pass. He only hoped that she wouldn’t hate him too much, although he didn’t expect to be getting her aid on his article for Ink Blot.
***
Quill Scratch stumbled across the dusty track as his torn blue shirt rubbed against the three long, deep lacerations in his back. His wings twitched as spasms of agonising pain shot through the left one, while the right one he couldn’t feel at all. The trails of crimson blood seeping into his eyes made them burn as he fought to stay conscious. Each step was a mustering of every ounce of his willpower, and it was only one thought that kept him going; there has to be help over the next hill.
Sure enough, as the crest of the hill faded from his view and was replaced with the sight of a small village, a relieved laugh escaped his lips, before the world faded into blackness and the ground rushed to meet him. Just as he was losing consciousness, a woman’s voice filled his ears. “Hello, are you okay? Oh my Celestia!”
***
Quill’s eyes snapped open as the dark lingerings of his dream started to fade back into the recesses of his mind, but it didn’t matter. He had experienced that dream so many times over the past three years that it was branded into his skull. But until that night he hadn’t had it for six months. There was something wrong, some feeling that refused to leave him, that made every hair on his body stand on end and his heart convulse in his chest as adrenaline flooded his system in preparation to fight, or more likely; flight.
After a shower and all but diving out of his window for a morning fly, Quill headed for Cloudsdale; the colossal cloud city that spent its time orbiting Ponyville. Normally he wouldn’t go there, as he had never much liked the crowd, both the one in the air and the one that hurried around on the soft footpaths. But today was special.
An ancient Equestrian law had tasked the pegasi with always manipulating the weather, regardless of what their cutie mark represented. The law had been amended since then, but all pegasi were still required to do five hours of weather duty per week, and today Quill had been rostered on for the morning shift. As he passed through the door of the weather institute however, he could instantly tell that it was not going to be an easy one.
In front of him was a group of about thirty people, all dressed in the white overalls and high-vis vests of the weather patrol. The usual posting for the morning was only four people, which made this gathering all the more concerning for the writer. He made his way over to the crowd, all of who were looking toward the large white board at the front of the room where their boss, Cloud Kicker, was giving a briefing on the thunderstorm they would be dealing with that day.
“Now unfortunately, we won’t have Rainbow Dash with us this time, she’s broken her wing… again,” Cloud Kicker sighed as she finished drawing up the path the storm was going to take.
“Again! That’s the third time in as many months,” came Flitter’s angry voice from the front of the room. When he heard the irate woman’s voice, Quill visibly shrunk down lower, hoping to hide himself among the taller people in the crowd. Lately, Flitter had been making advances on Quill which at times was a little too… physical for his liking and always seemed to be at the worst times.
Three weeks prior, Quill had badly burnt his arm on a steam pipe when Flitter walked past and groped his behind.
“I know, I know. But ‘little miss wonderbolt’ thinks she can pull off some new trick,” Cloud Kicker explained, making air quotes with her fingers. “But we’ll be fine without her, now everyone, get yourselves ready, we get started in half an hour.
***
Quills blue wings were a blur as they worked to help him keep the storm at bay. Thunderlane had gone down when a stray bolt of lightning hit him in the chest. If not for their protective overalls, it would probably have been fatal. After the accident, the storm had started to get out of control, the pitch black clouds writhing through the air like agitated snakes in a pit. Cloud Kicker and Flitter were next to him, pushing against the clouds with all of their might to stop it from drifting over the school house. None of them said it, but they all understood the stakes if the wall of destructive weather got by them.
“I’m going to murder Rainbow Dash when she gets out of the hospital,” Flitter shouted, barely audible over the roar of the wind. Quill grunted as a thick tendril of cloud hit him across the face, leaving a red mark.
On the ground, Lyra and some of the more powerful unicorns in the town, Twilight included, were doing double duty in that they were evacuating the immediate area and throwing up shields to stop wayward bolts of searing airborne electricity. Besides the ones trying to contain the rogue storm, a small group of the weather team was in charge of breaking the storm down by systematically dismantling each cloud strand, an arduous process, but one that they had been drilled in since each was old enough to work.
Dismantling the strands involved following one of the conduit clouds, which are the ones that actually shoot lightning, back to the core, and then taking out the diamond pins that connected the structural clouds together. On smaller storm fronts, this was usually done by only one person, but this one had gotten so far out of hand and ferocious that it would have been dangerous to send only one person in.
Quill could feel the cloud beneath his hands starting to loosen up, and with a cry, he gave it a swift yet powerful kick which managed to dislodge it and a few others from his section. He dashed over to Flitter, whose fringe was smouldering from the heat of a bolt and rammed into it with his shoulder, causing it to break away as well. Inside of the mass, Quill could just barely make out the shapes of the ten pegasi that had gone in to pull the pins.
After the outer layer had been breached, they spent the next half an hour gradually taking the storm apart in sections and destroying the smaller pieces. When they were finished, they all but collapsed on the ground in a heap and rested. Some of them even passed out from the strain, and Quill would have to, if not for being interrupted from his rest by Lyra and Twilight. “Oh my Luna! Are you guys alright? That storm was crazy,” asked Lyra in a panicked, yet irritatingly energetic tone.
“Oh I’m fine, although I have the feeling I could run a light bulb with the amount of energy I absorbed today,” Quill joked, his voice raspy from shouting orders to the others. The exposed skin of his face was numb from the tiny sparks of electricity that had arced off the clouds, as well as the cold from the rain. “Well I think you and the team should be proud, you saved Ponyville,” said Twilight happily. “Yay for us, now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m just going to pass out now,” he told them, his voice trailing off as his body shut down from sheer over-exertion.
Quill Scratch lazily opened his eyes, blinking away the tiredness as his body started to scream out in protest from every small movement from his joints. He hadn’t worked out that intensely in such a long time and as he eased himself upright, he could swear he had gained muscle, but the voice in the back of his mind told him that it was just wishful thinking. He got to his feet and made his way over to the window, pausing only to wonder how he had gotten changed into his pyjamas.
Pushing the window open, he let out a relaxed sigh at the rush of cold air that hit his face. When he tried to spread his wings however, he found them bound tightly to his back by coarse cloth bandages. Starting to hyperventilate at the thought of wings being injured and useless, he slumped onto his bed and started clawing at the bandages, trying to tear them away from his body. At the same time he began to cry out for anyone in the house to help him. A few moments later, both Lyra and Bon Bon burst through his door, Bon Bon brandishing a baseball bat.
When they saw him ripping his bandages off, Lyra dashed forward to try and stop him, tackling him onto his bed and laying across him while Bon Bon grabbed his arms and held them tightly. “Quill! Calm down. It’s okay, you’re among friends here,” said Lyra as Quill struggled and screamed under her. “What happened to my wings!” Quill yelled as he slowed down his thrashing. “It’s okay... The doctor had to bind them to speed up the healing process,” Bon Bon explained, her knees holding his wrists in place.
“WHY! What happened?” he asked in a panicked tone, his voice croaky from yelling. “You just tore a bunch of muscles in both wings during the storm crisis and you have to rest them for the rest of the week,” Lyra told him, keeping her voice steady and calm. Quill closed his eyes for a moment, trying to slow down his breathing. When his heart rate finally got back to normal, he opened his eyes and gave Lyra a single nod, prompting her to climb off him.
“Alright… Is there anything else I should know?” he asked, as Bon Bon started to re-wrap his wings. “You may have skipped… Friday,” she replied, smiling awkwardly at the irritated sigh that escaped from Quill’s mouth. “Wait… You mean its Saturday?” he asked suddenly, remembering his promise to Twilight. “I’ve got to get to the train station.” With that, he jumped to his feet and rushed around the room, gathering clothes for an overnight trip to Canterlot. “You need to rest. I’m sure Twilight will understand,” Lyra said, taking a seat next to Bon Bon on the bed. “Probably, but Ink Blot won’t. He doesn’t give a damn if you’ve hurt yourself. If you have a deadline, you’re expected to meet it,” Quill replied, grunting from a pang of pain spiking up his back.
“Fine, but please be careful. You have no idea how much damage you might have done,” she told him, and the look of concern in her eyes almost made Quill reconsider. He bent forward and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I promise. As annoying as it will be to not have a morning fly, I won’t even open my wings to stretch.”
***
Quill was sweating by the time he reached the Library, his chest aching with exhaustion. Twilight answered the door with an overnight bag at the ready and after a short explanation about his wings and the reason for his lateness; she said her farewells to Spike, who at the time was sitting in a large bean bag chair with Applebloom and reading. Quill gave the teenager a wink when Twilight’s back was turned, and received a small smile as a response.
After hurrying to the train station and barely managing to catch the last train to Canterlot for five hours, they settled in for the four hour trip to the enormous capital city. Twilight almost immediately pulled out a large book; opening it and flipping through the pages until she reached somewhere near the middle. The title was in a language that Quill hadn’t seen before, which was strange, since he prided himself on being multilingual, even if that only meant he could speak Equestrian, Zebrican and Griffish.
“What language is that?” he inquired, staring at the mess of strange symbols and pictures of who he assumed was Princess Celestia. “Ancient Equestrian, from before the first sealing of Discord,” Twilight explained, turning to a page near the front of the book and showing him a painting of Discord, the god of chaos, sitting in a throne while rows and rows of people bowed down to him. “And you can read that?”
“Oh yeah, I had to learn it as part of my private study from Princess Celestia. She has an entire library full of books like this one, which is my favourite. In fact, the princess gave me this one as a present for my eighteenth birthday,” she smiled, and proceeded to go through the first few pages and show Quill the basic phonetic structure of ancient Equestrian, and while Quill got the strange feeling that he was in a university lecture, the chance to learn a new language was always something he enjoyed. Nevermind the fact that he didn’t have anything else to do on the train ride.
***
By the time they arrived in Canterlot, Quill’s irritated attitude that he had woken up with had returned, owing to the tight and uncomfortable feeling of his wings being trapped. Twilight seemed understanding, but Quill could tell that she was actively trying to not exacerbate his frustration.
For a Pegasus, not being able to fly for any length of time was a horrible experience. They were born in the clouds, around the freedom of the sky and the openness of Equestria. Whenever Quill was up at sunrise, which was surprisingly often because of his nightmares, he would usually join the large group of local pegasi that got together to fly every morning. It had been at one of those mostly silent escapes from society and return to their roots that Flitter had made her first advance on him.
“Look, if you want, we can postpone the meeting until tomorrow when you might be feeling better?” Twilight suggested as they made their way toward the palace. Quill stopped in the middle of the street, dropped his bag and looked straight up. His wings itched and the thought of interviewing Princess Luna was pressing down on him. In his periphery he spotted a Pegasus flying over his line of sight, wings spread wide and Quill could tell he was thermal hopping, that is; moving the farthest possible distance by using only updrafts, no wing beats at all.
He took a deep breath and looked back at Twilight, who was watching him patiently. “I think tomorrow sounds great.” “Fantastic, then how about we head to my parent’s house? I’ve already told them that we need a place to stay and they are fine with it,” she said, gesturing for him to follow. “And it’ll give us time to work on the story a bit. I’d love to show Princess Celestia a first page.” When the realisation of what was just said hit him, Quill tensed up and his eyes turned to pinpricks. ‘Luna damn it.”
***
The plastic covered couch squeaked as Quill shifted uncomfortably under the piercing gaze of Twilight’s father; Night Light. Her mother; Twilight Velvet, however was chatting happily to Twilight a little ways off about local gossip that she had missed since moving to Ponyville.
“So… Quill was it?” asked Night Light, loud enough that the girls stopped to pay attention to him. “I hear you’re a writer.” “Uh… Yes sir,” he replied quietly. He wasn’t very experienced with situations like this one and as a result, he didn’t know what the social etiquette was. “Have you gotten anything published boy?” “Y-Yes.”
“Name some of your books.” “Dad, don’t do this,” Twilight pleaded. “Come now Twily, we’re just having a conversation,” smiled Night Light. “Well, I wrote ‘Six Sacred Elements’ and ‘The Temple of the Pegasus Monks,” Quill told him and Twilight Velvet seemed to perk up.
“Wait, that was you? I love that book,” she exclaimed, making Quill blush. “Thank you very much Mrs Sparkle.” “What else?’ Night Light grunted, not impressed. “Enough Dad, I’m so tired of you interrogating anyone I bring around here,” snapped Twilight, jumping to her feet as a magenta spark flicked from the end of her horn. “Twily, I just want to make sure that your boyfriend here is up to a decent standard,” he explained flatly, and both Quill and Twilight went pale.
“We aren’t… together,” they said in unison. Quill smiled awkwardly as Night Light narrowed is eyes at the two. Twilight Velvet let out a sigh and flicked her husband’s ear, making him flinch and look away. “I agree with Twi, leave them alone. If they say they aren’t together, then they aren’t. Remember what happened that time Princess Celestia disguised herself as that colt and you almost beat him up for walking her home?” she told him and Quill had to suppress a grin at the bright crimson Night Light’s face turned.
Quill suddenly noticed that Twilight was extending a hand to him. “Come on, let’s go for a walk,” she said, shooting an annoyed look over to her father. Quill took her hand and let Twilight lead him from the room, avoiding Night Light’s gaze at the same time. When they got outside into the crowded street, where throngs of people rushed around enjoying the weekend shopping, Twilight started walking toward the palace, with Quill getting into line next to her.
“I’m sorry about that. My Dad can be really overprotective of his children,” Twilight apologised, turning a corner and starting down a small back street. “I remember when Shining Armour brought home a girl he was working on a school project with. Dad made the poor girl cry by simply asking a few rather personal questions.” “It wasn’t so bad, I knew what he was doing,” he assured her, as they turned into an even smaller side street. “Hey, where are we going?”
“There’s a spot not far from here where you can climb up onto the wall and it has to be the best view in all of Equestria,” she smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze. He gave her a nod and they quickened their pace until they were running though the tiny alleyways.
When they reached the edge of the city, where the wall of white brick shielded those inside from anything that hated them, Quill noticed a dilapidated wooden guard tower resting against it and stretching all the way to the top. The wood was green with rot and quite a few support beams had broken during the passage of time, making the entire structure sway in the updraft caused by the wall.
Twilight rushed straight for it, leaping to grab onto a wooden ladder that looked as though it were held on by nothing but a few rusty bracers. “I used to come here all the time when I wanted a place to read in silence. Canterlot’s a loud place when you’re trying to study,” Twilight called out as she climbed. Quill gripped one of the lower rungs of the ladder, only to have the soft wood come apart in his hand.
“Uh Twi, I don’t think this is entirely safe,” he said. As if on cue, the rung under Twilight’s foot snapped, and with a scream she began to plummet toward the ground. Panicking, Quill got in position underneath, his arms held out in preparation to catch her. But just before they collided, Twilight vanished in a blink of magenta energy and a ‘bamf’ of contracting air, only to reappear on the ground beside him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking her over for signs of injury. “I’m fine, a little disappointed that my childhood sanctuary is falling to pieces, but fine,” she said, her eyes full of disappointment. Quill helped her to her feet and gave her a quick hug to show that he understood. They stood there for a moment, saying nothing as tears entered Twilight’s eyes.
“Hey, it’s oka-“ he started, before a large hand holding a cloth covered his mouth, while a large muscular arm wrapped around his neck. Twilight’s eyes went wide and she took a step forward, trying to intervene, before she too was grabbed by someone.
The sound of hundreds of buzzing bees filled his ears the same second the smell of something similar to paint thinner filled his nostril. All of a sudden, he was released and collapsed to the ground in a heap, his eyes only staying open long enough to see Twilight hit the ground beside him.
The frigid cold of the water hit Quill in the face, rushing over him like a blanket of ice. He was snapped out of his unconscious sleep, gasping for air as though he had just broken the surface of the Ponyville Lake. An agonising pain was digging into his skull from his temple and he groaned reflexively. Looking around, he became aware of three very tall shapes standing in the shadows of the small stone room which Quill could only describe as a prison cell.
“T-Twilight?” he asked in hushed tones, shifting his weight and finding himself tied to a wooden chair, back to back with Twilight, who appeared to still be unconscious. Quill turned back to the tall shapes, trying his best to look menacing in his groggy and pained state. One of the shapes moved forward into the white light of the moon shining through a grated hole in the ceiling and revealing a large, muscular man with tanned skin and red eye-liner painted in a threatening design. His body was covered in leather flight armour, typical of older Pegasus styles, but it was the forearm-long golden metal gauntlets that he had on both arms and the large white wings that told him all he needed to know about the identity of their captors; Griffins.
The griffins were a race of people from a particularly mountainous region of the continent, and so were much taller and stronger than the average equestrian. Their gauntlets were a ceremonial artefact bestowed onto all members of the society when they came of age and were meant to closely resemble eagle’s talons; right down to the sharp claws on each of the fingertips.
Quill was a taller than average man, but there was only one person in Ponyville able to look a griffin in the eye, and that was Big Macintosh, Applejack’s brother. Quill was barely tall enough to head-butt him in the chin, and the same went for griffins. The griffin with the red eye-paint bent low to look at him in the eye, smiling with a malicious gleam in his golden iris. “Good Morning,” he said happily, his yellow stained canine teeth catching the light.
“But it’s night time,” Quill said groggily, instantly regretting it as the griffin’s face changed to the scowl and he swiftly backhanded him across the face. “No smart talk. This is serious business,” the griffin responded as his smile returned. “Now, first off, I want to apologise. My… Associates were only meant to obtain the student and not the boyfriend.” He clicked his fingers and one of the griffins in the shadows stepped forward and tipped a bucket of water over Twilight’s head, snapping her back to reality in much the same way that Quill had. “Wha? Q-Quill what’s going on?” Twilight asked in a panic, her hand grabbing his own between the chairs. The head griffin cocked his head, studying them both with an almost child-like fascination. “Ah, the student awakes,” he exclaimed happily after a while, moving out of Quill’s line of sight as he went to address Twilight. “I was wondering when you were going to join us.”
“Who are you and what do you want?” Twilight asked, seemingly shrugging off the post-drugged confusion like nothing. “Ooh, we have a strong one here lads,” the griffin laughed and was soon joined by his friends, one of which seemed to be a woman by the sound of her laugh. “Well it’s quite simple, my dear student; you and your little friend here are our hostages, and we plan to ransom you to the princess for a stupid amount of money.” Quill could almost hear the grinding of Twilight’s teeth as his eyes watered from the force of her squeezing his hand in anger.
“The Princess will not negotiate with you, nor will she allow me to suffer at your hands,” Twilight said defiantly. The griffins laughed again, and Twilight just squeezed his hand tighter. “Oh student, she will have no choice.”
***
Morning sunlight warmed Quill’s bloodied face as his chin rested against his chest, passed out from the beating he had received the night before in response to Twilight’s lack of cooperation. “Quill? Are you okay?” Twilight asked, shaking both of their chairs and waking him up. He coughed up a small amount of blood, which splattered across his torn blue hoodie. “Uh… Let me get back to you on that,” he groaned, stretching his neck out and testing to see if any of his teeth had been knocked out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that they would do that to you,” she told him sadly, laying her head back and resting it on his shoulder in a kind of hug. “It’s alright Twi, I’ve been through worse.”
“Wait Wha-“ Twilight started, before she was interrupted by the sound of the heavy iron door being thrown open. The head griffin strolled in, noisily chewing on an apple as he walked around the two. “Morning,” he said, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. Quill acknowledged him with a nod of his head, giving him a very sarcastic smile at the same time. The griffin grinned in response, crouching to look him in the eye, while behind him, the two griffins from the previous night walked in, standing on either side of the door. “So we sent the ransom note out to the princess this morning and I’m just so excited to hear her response.”
“Very happy for you,” Twilight spat, once again gripping Quill’s hand. The griffin stood back up and made his way around to Twilight, dropping the remains of his apple into Quill’s lap as he did so. “Thanks!” he exclaimed, giving Twilight’s horn a flick. “Say, I never introduced myself did I? I’m Ignatius, it’s great to meet you student.” “Pleasure is all yours,” she snapped, smirking at her own joke. “But there is one thing I think you forgot when you kidnapped us Ignatius, something utterly important to your little plan for us.” “And what is that?”
“We’re from Ponyville, the most attacked place in all of Equestria,” Twilight smiled, before severing their binds with a spark of magic from her hands. Time seemed to slow down for the two of them as they leapt to their feet. Twilight whipped both of her hands to the front, charging up a blast of magenta coloured energy that hit Ignatius square in the chest and threw him against the stone wall of the cell. While at the same time, Quill rushed at the male griffin guard, uppercutting him with all of his exhausted strength. The female guard, looking shocked by the sudden turn of events, swung a heavy fist at Quill, the golden metal of her gauntlet flashing in the light. Taking a deep breath, Quill blocked the blow with his left arm and with his right, punched his assailant in the throat, bringing her down in just under five seconds.
He turned to Twilight, who was watching him with silent awe. He gestured out the door, a look of urgency plastered over his face and Twilight rushed to meet him as the griffins started to stir on the ground. “How did you…?” “Later, let’s just get out of here.”
***
Quill smiled as he spread his wings, stretching away the cramps of being trapped in a chair for almost an entire day. They sprinted down the rough stone hallways, the sounds of multiple heavy footsteps behind them. Passing by a window, Quill saw a sight that made a cold shiver run up his spine.
“I know where we are,” he told Twilight, his smile fading as they turned a corner to find the bright light of day at the end of the tunnel. “And where is that?” she asked, breathing heavily from the run and her last blast of magic. “Well what do you know about the last griffin war?” “What do you want to know?” she smiled, giving him a little wink. “Then you will know what this place is,” Quill said as they broke through the opening to find themselves on the side of a mountain, the harsh winds blowing through the cavernous opening that separated them from another tunnel on the other side. Between the two points was an obstacle course of trapezes, hoops, ropes, walls and platforms barely large enough for two people. “We’re in an Aviary, otherwise known as a griffin prison.”
*** “How in Tartarus are we meant to get through this? The gate on the other side is locked, and I didn’t get a key off the guards and I just….” Twilight yelled, panicking as she looked behind them to see the three griffins run past the intersection they had just came from. “It’s alright, I know exactly how these work,” Quill reassured her, stepping forward to look over the edge of the cliff at the expanse below. “How?”
“These use motion to get through the puzzle. Some of the metal horizontal bars will unlock the gears that will raise the gate, and the only way to get through it is to swing through all of the bars.” He explained, taking a few steps back in order to judge the distance he would need to jump to catch the first bar.
“Okay, I’ll just teleport across to the other side then,” Twilight said, visibly relaxing as he explained. Quill shook his head and walked her over to the edge, pointing to the rock wall at the back of the cavern. “Afraid not. See that blue rock over there? It’s a mineral called Magicite and it negates magic. Aviaries are always built on mountains that are rich in the mineral so that they can hold unicorns without fear of them breaking out, even if this damned puzzle wasn’t enough.”
“So what do I do then?” “There are four platforms spread throughout the ‘maze’ that you should be able to reach with your teleport spell. Probably.” “I’ll be fine, but why don’t we just fly out the massive gap in the cavern?” “Not how the puzzle works. If we fly out, then not only are we stuck facing the mountainous griffin territories, but the updraft would probably just tear my feathers off. Very simple, but very brutal,” he told her, once again taking a few steps back and getting ready to run and jump. “Now you just wait until I get to the first platform and then follow me. We are going to get out of here.”
Twilight nodded and gave him a weak smile that Quill knew was only a mask for her fear. Taking a few deep breaths, he started running at the edge of the cliff, leaping off and throwing his arms out toward the bar. Tightly gripping it, Quill kept the momentum going, swinging toward the next bar and letting go with a practiced hand. The back of his knees curled around the next bar, swinging him upside down in a swooping arc that continued on as two full loops of the bar before Quill finally let go and was flung through a hoop that was slightly lower to everything else. As he exited the hoop he spread his wings and flipped over, slowing down just enough that he was uninjured upon landing in the first platform.
Signalling to Twilight, she appeared next to him in a flash of light, still smiling weakly. Quill bent low and leapt again, his wings providing him with just enough lift to get him up to the next bar. With a solid sounding clunk, the bar dropped five inches, indicating that one of the locks had released.
He continued to swing and fly between the bars, only stopping to make sure Twilight made it to the next platform safely. Every time she teleported, Twilight looked more and more exhausted as she had to put increasing amounts of energy into the spell to get her across.
As Quill unlocked the last gear and the gate was pulled open, he turned to signal her. By now, Twilight was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Her horn lit up, flickering twice before she blinked out of sight. With the exploding sound of contracting air she reappeared in front of him; and just over the edge of the cliff. Letting out a loud scream, Twilight clawed at Quill, who grabbed for her and was toppled over the edge. His wings fluttered furiously to keep them hovering, giving them just enough lift to get onto the platform.
Quill pulled Twilight through the door, flipping a switch and causing the door to close behind them. Once the locks had clicked back into place, the two exhausted friends collapsed onto the cold stone floor, Twilight resting her head in Quill’s lap. A few minutes passed and Quill suddenly let out a deep chuckle that soon evolved into hysterics. Twilight looked at him with a puzzled look on her face, but soon joined in, giggling breathlessly.
“How did we get through that?” Quill asked in disbelief, groaning from the pain of his complaining muscles. “I’ve got no idea, but I’m glad we did. Will we have to do that again?” “I don’t think so. If I remember correctly, they only ever had one of those per wing of the prison, and only on wings specifically designed for unicorns. The Pegasus cell blocks are considerably more devious.” “How do you know all this stuff?”
“Believe it or not, my friends and I used to play in an abandoned one of these near my home town when we were young. Of course, when the elder pegasi found out, they took it over and turned it into a training ground.” “What! They put children through that kind of torture? Just where are you from?” asked Twilight, shocked, but just as Quill was about to answer, the first of the locks slid across to the unlocked position with a loud clunk. “No time… Run.”
