MLP 12

Striped legs cantered about a torch lit, cave like room, preparing everything the owner needed. A Saddle bag was lifted and flung onto a streaked back, strange, brown bags like woven reeds. Next came a rough brown cloak, the pony carefully stepping over calk drawn lines on the stone floor as they readied themselves.

Satisfied, the pony snorted, looking around one last time. His friend may be dead, but they had agreed that no matter what, they had to carry out this plan together. With food and books in his saddle bags, he quietly trotted through the deserted castle, avoiding guards on patrol and servants alike. He could trust no soul.

It seemed like forever, but he finally reached a high tower room. It was less dangerous coming down this way in recent months than it had been before. The large ornate black and green room stood empty now.

However, he did not venture here, he trotted quietly down the hall to another room. The door was smaller, and when opened, was more green than black. The pony caught a flicker of movement out of the corner or his eye and smiled.

"It is alright, young one. It is only I." He said quietly, shutting the door softly before a guard came and questioned him. Large green eyes poked out from behind thick, heavy black curtains and a foal Alicorn bounded over to him.

"Oh good, I thought you were Father." The voice identified the foal as a colt as he rubbed against the rough material of the grown Ponies cloak. He chuckled and nuzzled the colt, then backed away.

"We must get you ready." He said, and a blue light began to glow from under his hood, levitating a brush and bowl from under the cloak out of his bags. In the bowl was a black substance, and he dipped the brush into this, and then began to apply it to the colts mane and coat. He was mostly black already, but the little Alicorn's wings faded to acid green at the tips, and his mane and tail had streaks of green to match.

After this was applied, the grown pony moved away, and came back, throwing a slightly worn cloak over the colts withers. He snapped out his wings, testing the comfort, and then nodded with a nervous smile. "Ready."

"That is good, then we shall go. Tell me when your wings become tired, and we will walk. We must put much distance between ourselves and this place tonight." Carefully, the pair trod to the window and opened it, checking around carefully. They had timed it right, and the guard was changing. "We must hurry!"

The colt leapt out the window first followed by the other, black and white wings spreading from under the brown cloak with ease. He had to remind the colt to be quiet on the number of occasions that he nearly let out a shout of joy for flying free. When finally the palace was out of sight, he let the colt do as he pleased, as long as he was moving forward. Never before had he been permitted to fly for the joy of it, the moment his Mark had appeared he had been set to classes centered in Law, math, history and the like. Any flying time he had gotten had been with himself (strange looking as he was, the colts father had permitted him to be the foals tutor) and his friend. Being the fastest flier in all of Caballia, his dark coated friend had been teaching the colt speed in flight, and in hoof.

Hours later, nearing dawn, The colts wings were beginning to tire, and he was drifting steadily downward.

"Argent." He moaned. "Argent, my wings are sore." He said, green eyes full of misery rather than joy now.

"Let us land then young one. You have done very well tonight. We are much closer to the Ever-Free forest than I expected; and much further from danger." The colt look pleased with himself despite his exhaustion and when they landed, he folded his tired wings with a wince, but sighed as they relaxed and drank deeply from a stream when his Tutor found one.

Now his energy seemed to revive, and they walked for a few more hours towards the mountains separating themselves from their destination as the young colt darted from one thing to another, asking what they were. Hungry, he almost ate a strange blue plant that Argent kept him from eating.

"I do not believe you will find the effects of this plant all that funny if you eat it. Did you touch it in an way?" He asked the colt, inspecting him.

"No, why?" The young foal asked, sounding worried.

"Good." Argent said. "This plant is called 'Poison Joke' and it's poision doesn't hurt, but likes to play a joke. We simply have no time for baths to cure it just now. I would like to stay one step ahead of those who are no doubt pursuing us by now." The colt gave a worried look backward.

"Let's hurry, okay?" He said, cantering nervously on the spot. "Maybe if we reach the mountains before it gets dark again…"

"Yes, perhaps. Quickly, across the stream now…" The pair waded through the stream, the colt having a little difficulty, and emerged on the other side dripping wet, and trotted on.

While this trick may disguise their scent, it didn't do much to help against the now chilling air hanging around the mountains. Winter was drawing closer, and it wasn't long before the Colt was shivering. Finally, Argent knew they would get no further, and after finding a decent cave in the rocks of the mountains foothills, he ushered the colt inside and disguised the enterance. Inside, he lay down with the foal beside him, draping wing and cloak over his tiny frame to stop the shivering. It was a small cave and he could barely stand upright in it, but that meant it would warm up faster. It was a long time before he fell asleep, ears twitching as he listened for any sign of pursuit. Now, things were going to get harder. Now, they had to be on their guard twenty-four-seven.