SHADES OF GRAY

Chapter Three - Garf

Had time really passed that quickly? He was outside the doctor's office again. He pushed open the door and felt something heavy behind it. Maybe his wound had just made him slightly weak. He leaned into the door and felt something sliding behind it. Odd. Surely the doctor hadn't gone out to lunch? There was no sign on the outside of the door. Finally Chaldor pushed the door open wide enough that he was able to squeeze inside.

It was dark. Alarms immediately went off in Chaldor's mind: this wasn't right. He struggled to push the door open further, to let the light from the street shine in. Whatever was behind the door was heavy. He let his eyes adjust. It was a bright blue color. And then he noticed: it was the doctor. The fairypony was simply strewn across the floor. Chaldor's mind started to reel; he fought his body's response to black out... unfortunately he wasn't strong enough to keep from stumbling out into the sunlight and retching.

"You there!" he heard a pony's voice not to far away. "There's blood all over you."

"The doctor," Chaldor gasped, trying to pull in air past the sickly-sour scent of his insides, "the doctor's dead."

The other pony moved inside to inspect what had happened. Chaldor's mind was trying to focus. He dared not go deeper into the office. What if Ichna... Kibeth... He'd left them there. He'd assumed they were safe. It was a doctor, after all...!

"There's no one else inside. Did you see who did it?" the other pony came back out and inquired, roughly. Chaldor only then noticed it was a guard. The irony that the guards had done nothing for him moments before was lost on his mind, dulled with shock as it was.

"N-no... I... I left my wife and child... I was gone for a few hours... tending shop..." Chaldor wheezed. The guard looked down on him, sternly. For a moment Chaldor suddenly felt cold as a thought washed over him: what if the guard thought he had...?

"What did they look like? We'll help you find them," the guard finally said, and Chaldor's mind eased.

"Flutterponies... Ichna, she's a light gray, and Kibeth... Kibeth... she's just a baby! Gray... a silvery gray... oh Kibeth! Ichna!" Chaldor could feel tears start to pour down his face. The corners of his eyes stung with the sudden, unexpected crying. He tried to keep himself under control, but he felt compelled to start shouting their names.

"Ichna! Kibeth! Iiiichna!" He ran up the street a short ways, then back down it, before taking off into the air. The roofs of the houses below him came into a more full view, and he could see some alleyways around the doctor's office. There was nothing. He saw no trace of anything: no tracks. No blood. He felt like his mind was on fire.

"Ichna! Ichna, where are you?!" he flew to the north, to the west, to the south, to the east. He wound back where he was. He could see the guard who'd approached him earlier, below; the earthpony was now surrounded by three other guards. They were nodding as he pointed between the doctor's office and himself. Would they really be able to help find her? Already it seemed like he was doing more work. His frantic energy quickly turned to anger like a spark lighting dry timber. The idiots, what good were they?! Their little heads bobbling on their necks, their hooves firmly planted in the street. They weren't even moving. Useless! Useless! Chaldor zipped back down to the ground.

"Where is my wife? Where is my child?!" he was starting to seem crazed. He barged back into the doctor's office. He stared down at the doctor's body. He felt his muscles were tense. Nothing, no amount of movement, seemed to be making them relax.

He started to shout at the doctor's body, "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"Hey. HEY!" One of the guards was calling from outside of the office. He came in and wrestled Chaldor away from the body, "Yelling at him won't do anything!"

Chaldor nearly bit the guard, but even in his half-crazed state he managed to reconsider this terrible idea. Instead he started to lift into the air again, when he heard it:

"Chaldor?"

It was so soft, but he heard it. It was coming from the other side of the building, it seemed. His legs were stirred to action. He sped past the bricked side of the building, his vision blurring with tears. He knew the voice was Ichna's. His mind was screaming again... what had they done to her, what had they done?

But when he rounded the corner, he found her huddled in a small box, still bandaged. She was holding Kibeth. There was no blood around her. She was fine. She was untouched. In that moment he nearly felt his heart explode with the exertion of going so quickly from panic to relief. Tears poured down his cheeks.

"Ichna, Ichna, are you okay?" he dropped to his knees in front of her, craned his neck into the box to rub his muzzle against her bandaged one.

"Yes, yes, I... we are okay. It... it was so quick. I saw the doctor..." she was quiet a moment. He couldn't tell if she was trying to hold back tears or simply trying to remember. Meanwhile, one of the guards had rounded the corner and came upon them, but fell silent when he heard Ichna talking.

"I was napping. I was resting. Kibeth was with me, she was right next to me. The doctor hadn't had any visitors; when the door opened, a little bell went off. I heard it. And then... I heard the doctor. He sounded so displeased. He said something... something like 'what are you doing here? Get out!', and then I heard it. I heard him. He was screaming. He was screaming. It was so loud. Oh Am'hatai, he was screaming so loudly. I was scared, but... I felt my legs moving. I saw... I saw shadows against the sunlight. I think I startled them; I pushed right past them. I ran to this alley. I hid in this box. It feels like it was days ago... I don't know how long... he was screaming so loudly, but nobody came... nobody came...!"

She dissolved into tears at that point, as Chaldor held her close.

When Ichna was well enough to walk again, the guards escorted the couple back to the guard station, where they left another report. Despite their wounds, despite Ichna's gaunt face filled with fear, and the little filly they carried in a basket, the guards seemed more intent on cleaning up the doctor's body than finding the family safe shelter. It seemed too coincidental that the attack on the doctor had been separate from the intruders in their home. But what did the couple have that the thieves or attackers couldn't have gained while their home was abandoned? What had they done to upset somepony? They wracked their brains but came up with nothing, not a single thing that could have incited the attacks.

Finally Chaldor heaved a sigh and loosened the drawstring on the pouch around his neck, the one Alberno had given him. He dug his snout around, between the two sacks of coins, down to the bottom where he retrieved a tiny piece of paper with the dragon's notes scrawled in near-illegible hoofwriting in a light charcoal. He motioned toward Ichna, showed her the note.

"Do you think we should ask for some guards to be posted outside...?" The worries reflected in her large eyes, peeking out from the bandages on her face. Chaldor scoffed, but resorted to more hushed tones.

"They're of no use to us. If you like we can stop by the market and try to purchase a bodyguard..." He nosed around in his sack again. He knew how much money was inside. It was enough for a couple of weeks of food... or a couple of nights of protection. He looked back up at his wife, who had pulled Kibeth's basket closer between her front legs and was now looking down at her somewhat forlornly. The child was asleep and blessedly silent.

"Let's go," he decided. He thanked the guard nearest the door for their help as the family departed back into the sunlight, which was beginning to wane as clouds began to roll in and it sank in the sky.

In order to hurry, they took another cart ride into the market. The safehouse address Alberno had given Chaldor was relatively close by, so it was in their best interests to go in that direction as quickly as possible. It would be nightfall in a couple of hours, and darkness was an adequate cover for all sorts of unseemly business. Chaldor approached the Service district with Ichna in close tow behind him. They were already garnering stares from some of the ponies there, as they cantered under an archway, around an open plaza, and toward the alley where Chaldor knew a body guard or two had offered their services before. In turning a corner, he actually nearly ran into one.

"Watch where you're runnin'!" the broad, muscled Winged Unicorn shouted, his booming voice commanding attention even over the din of various salesponies plying their trades. Obviously he was trying to make a spectacle of himself. The more intimidating he looked, the more customers he would draw in. And he certainly looked intimidating. He was a deep navy color, his hair pale yellow in contrast, and he was striped all over with black zig-zags. His wings were folded back against his sides tightly, but they were still large and thick with feathers. His horn jutted from his forehead with a good few inches in length over most Winged Unicorns'. He had battle scars on his left cheek, his chest, even his flank, light blue scar tissue visible against the dark color of his fur.

He snorted, noticing Chaldor was looking him over.

"You're looking for some muscle?" the winged unicorn's chest flexed when he said 'muscle', and multitudes of them rippled across it, like a freakish wave of hardened, toned flesh.

"Y-yes," Chaldor gulped. He had tried to back away from the pony, but the pony scooted forward, bearing down on him, his steel gray eyes focused on the flutterpony's face. He was persistent.

"Yes, we're looking for a bodyguard. What do you charge?" Ichna had come out from around her husband. For a moment they could tell the pony was taken aback by Ichna's bandaged, concealed face, but the winged unicorn quickly recovered.

"Ten gold a day. Five if you only need me for the night." He snorted, pawed at the ground restlessly. Already his eyes were scanning the crowd behind them. Apparently he wasn't used to having his prices requested. Ichna mulled this over; Chaldor was still surprised she had stepped forward to talk.

"Will you do it for eight?"

The winged unicorn's eyebrows shot up in surprise as though he'd never been haggled with before. Selling himself out of the market, there was no way this could be the case; it was clearly a ploy. He was silent for a moment as his brow ridge slowly lowered back to its normal height and then began to decline as he considered.

He glared at Ichna, and the mare glared right back for a moment before picking up the basket Kibeth was in, pointedly, her gaze never leaving his. A little late to the party, Chaldor finally reacted and began to glare, as well.

Finally the winged unicorn heaved a sigh.

"I'll do it for eight, sure," he conceded, following quickly with, "... if you'll pay me half now."

Ichna looked to Chaldor, who seemed a mix of surprised and hesitant. They turned away from the pony a moment as Chaldor nosed into his leather pouch again, retrieving four gold from one of the smaller pouches within.

When he turned back around, he could see the bodyguard's eyes - as though they were magnetized - immediately attracted to the glitter of the currency. He looked as though he could drool at any moment, but he stayed stoic, even as Chaldor hoofed the money over.

"What's your name?" the flutterpony stallion finally asked, curious.

"Garf. That's it, just Garf. It's all you'll ever need to know, in case you need to call me."

"Garf," Chaldor tried. He felt he sounded like an aged dog barking with a mouthful of food.

"I am Chaldor, and this is Ichna, and my filly Kibeth. We need you to watch over the house we'll be staying in tonight."

"No problem," Garf nodded, once, and then stared at them, waiting to be led there.

As they turned away, Chaldor hissed, under his breath, to Ichna, "I don't know about this..."

Her ears twitched, but she didn't reply; her mouth was filled with Kibeth's basket, but she had nothing to tell him. She quite liked the brutish-looking winged unicorn and was certain he'd be at least some protection. Hopefully her feeling secure would be enough for Chaldor to reconsider.

Their residence for the night was not what Chaldor had been expecting.

When they reached the address they'd been given, they nearly circled the block twice before realizing they'd passed it. No address signified the run-down, hole-filled door was for a residence. It could have been some entrance to a cellar or boiler room for all anypony knew. And after Chaldor pushed the door open, he found his assessment wasn't too far off the mark.

The inside of the room was small, to say the least; not more than three ponies in width, and it looked as though it only went back into a single, smaller room. From the smell, they could tell it was probably the restroom. The main room was cramped with furniture; a bed fit for no more than one pony, a dresser missing several of its handles, a small table made from what looked like excess wood. The walls were bare and in desperate need of covering; they were nothing more than the building's original materials, darkened and dirtied with age.

Despite how harsh the surroundings seemed, there were some things to be thankful for. The bed seemed well-kept, with sheets and blankets tucked neatly around the edges of the mattress. There were no vermin nor insects in sight. Upon closer inspection there was a small cupboard near the floor on the other side of the bed. It had a small water pouch, a large loaf of what seemed to be relatively fresh bread, and a small bundle of fresh, green stalks of some sort. Probably what the locals called sweet-root, since opening the cupboard suddenly gave the tiny residence a more tolerable scent.

"Has a nice 'homey' feel to it," Garf remarked, over their shoulders, as he peeked in. Chaldor turned to glare at the unicorn.

"What? I need to assess your exits. And... it looks like you have none. Definitely wouldn't be my suggestion of a good place to stay. If I were you, I'd just sleep out in the open-..." he trailed off as Chaldor's glare became much more serious. Ichna was already turning to remove Kibeth from her basket. She looked tired, as if she could drop to the ground at any moment; she was clearly running on the small amount of energy she'd gained from her short nap in the late doctor's office.

"All right. Well, rest well. You'll be fine, if my gold has anything to say about it." He nodded before closing the door as he stepped back out into the alleyway.

Chaldor noticed Ichna was starting to sprawl out on the bed.

"You need to eat something, dear." He made his way carefully over to the tiny cupboard and pulled out the bundle of sweet-root, offering the whole of it to her. She cradled Kibeth close by; the filly was just beginning to wake up and was extremely hungry. She was yawning between almost every suckling.

Ichna seemed to look almost straight through Chaldor, and he began to worry.

"Please eat something," he coaxed. He held the sweet-root near her, waved it around by her nose. She sniffed and seemed a bit interested, so he started to feed her. It brought back memories of when she had been pregnant, too sick to get out of bed. It was actually nice... it felt normal.

When she was done eating, Chaldor ate a small amount of the bread, and then worked himself into as comfortable a position on the bed as he could while still trying to leave plenty of it for his wife and child. The darkness in the tiny, windowless room might have helped him get to sleep, if he hadn't been so tense. He could hear Ichna's slow breathing nearby; she had already fallen asleep, too tired to even protest against her eyes. Chaldor listened to it, feeling comforted that it was so close. He could even hear Kibeth, alongside it, though hers was a lighter breath, and she seemed to hiccough now and then. Before he knew it, hours had passed.

He'd barely heard anything outside, though, and he began to wonder... did Garf simply take off with their money? No, he didn't seem the type to do that. Chaldor tried to quiet his fears but new ones awakened: what if he'd been silenced, tied up, kidnapped? What if the intruders were just about to pop into the room and do... whatever it was they were planning on? He waited a moment and no one broke in but his mind repeated, what if they're going to break in NOW? How about NOW? What about NOW?

He felt almost paralyzed by the fear. He could feel his breath coming a bit faster and he tried to calm himself. He knew the best way to do this would be to simply stand up and go outside, so he mustered a bit of courage and carefully swung himself out of bed. The mattress creaked; Ichna shifted from her position, which made Kibeth bleat quietly. She cried for a moment but Ichna didn't awaken and shortly Kibeth went back to sleep, as well. Chaldor sighed, and quietly opened the door.

Garf was standing across the street. He'd somehow adorned himself in a brown traveler's cloak; Chaldor didn't even bother to wonder where it had come from. The winged unicorn had set himself up in a nonchalant-looking stance, leaning against the wall, juxtaposed from the door. There, he seemed to be passing his time playing games in the sand with his hooves. How he saw in the partial darkness of the alleyway - bathed only in moon and starlight - was anypony's guess. Chaldor suspected it was a good quality for a bodyguard to have, to be able to see well in the darkness.

"Shouldn't you be asleep? You're paying me an awful lot for you to be looking after yourself," Garf mused without even looking up from his game. Chaldor hoped the winged unicorn stallion couldn't see him blushing in the darkness.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, that'll happen when someone's after you," Garf mused in a tone that made it sound as though it was a common occurence. It probably was, for him.

"Any idea who's after you, anyway?" he asked.

"No; like I said on the trip here, we have no idea. Shortly after Kibeth was born, intruders came into our home..."

"Yeah, and attacked you, and then came lookin' for you at the market, and then came after Ichna at the doctor's; I heard alla that. I was just hoping you had some idea why. Ain't every day ponies get so persistently attacked for no reason. Usually they have some idea. Your wife's sleepin'; your secret's safe with me. What is it, a bar tab? Gamblin' debts? Did you kill a pony? Piss off a town guard?"

"No, no, no, none of that!" Chaldor shook his head thoroughly.

Garf seemed to mull this over. He scribbled out whatever it was he'd been writing in the sand with his hoof.

"I can tell yer a good guy; yeah, you're not lying about it. Well, maybe we can figure it out," he turned and motioned to the portion of the wall next to him, "I got a knack for this stuff."

Chaldor sighed. He trotted over and ended up slumping down into a sitting position in the sand, his head drooping below his shoulders. Now he did feel somewhat tired.

"So what did you do the day you got attacked?"

"Ichna sang Kibeth a lullaby; I heard her from the bedroom. I wheeled the crib in so she could sleep with her-..."

"No, no, gruel-for-brains, I meant, what did you do that day, before you were attacked that evening?"

"N-nothing, really," Chaldor tried to remember, "We had breakfast. Then we took a cart into the market to take Kibeth to the doctor's. We shopped around in the market a bit, and headed home. Ichna straightened around the house; I wove a basket or two. I cooked lunch, she cooked dinner. Then we went to bed..." Chaldor shook his head hopelessly.

"Where did you shop in the market?" Garf's ears had seemed to prick up as Chaldor had described their day. Chaldor looked up at the bodyguard, his hazy memory trying to come back into focus.

"Uhhh... the produce dealer on 23rd, you know, the one across from that creepy old goat-of-a-pony who sells those clay pots. He sold us some sweet-root, some grain. Then I think we visited a jewelry stall or two; Ichna loves to look at that stuff. The more expensive, the better!"

"Ain't that always the way," Garf chuckled.

"That was it, though," Chaldor concluded, nodding his head as if to confirm it for himself.

"So..." Garf paused, then continued, "who was this doctor you saw?"

"He said his name was... er... Doctor Tanderr. He was in the 15th district. It took us a while to find him; it seemed like an odd place to have an office."

"Hmmm, yeah, that does sound odd." Garf went quiet. Several moments passed, with the winged unicorn simply looking up at the stars, his heavy breathing - a slight wheeze to it that Chaldor had never noticed - the only sound aside from sand-tickers, tiny bugs that emitted a faint 'tick, tick, tick' noise by slapping their wings on their back, never to any sort of rhythm. Thankfully there were usually only a few in any given distance; tonight it simply sounded like the soft 'tick, tick, tick' of beans hitting a plate as a grain vendor plied his trade.

"I think I've heard of your doctor before," Garf finally concluded. Chaldor's ears immediately perked up; he turned to look up at the winged unicorn and quickly got to his feet.

"What do you mean you've heard of him?"

"I mean he's had some shady dealings," Garf raised an eyebrow, "of course."

"I've heard he's not much of a healer; he's more of a potion-slinger than anything. His remedies are all potions and salves and pills. Nothing that'll guarantee you'll get better. Not like magic. I've seen him at the arcane bookstore before. I found it odd; what kind of pony doctor would shop at a store with books about magic but then never use it in his trade? I just assumed it was a hobby, maybe a quirk of his. Doctors ain't the most sane ponies in the world, yannow?"

"The midwives recommended him to us, for Kibeth's-..." Chaldor stopped short. Garf snorted.

"Her what? You gotta tell me this sorta stuff if you want me to help you out."

"For a scab on her forehead," Chaldor fidgeted, but finally offered up.

"A scab? Really? They sent you to a doctor for a scab? Don't sound like well-trained midwives, eh..."

"Not just any scab," Chaldor interjected, "It's rather large. And right in the center of her forehead. It looks like... no, it's silly. It's just a scab."

Garf cocked his head. Chaldor could see the moonlight reflecting off his large, and curious but skeptical eyes.

"It looks like a horn," Chaldor finally heaved out of himself. He instantly felt like some sort of weight had been lifted off him. Now he really did feel tired.

"Pfffht," Garf blew it off immediately.

"I know; I told you, it's silly. But the doctor gave us this salve... it sounded like it was something normal. I've just... never heard of it before. The midwives had seemed so frightened. I guess it was for nothing..."

"Well, I'll keep tryin' to think for ya. I see your eyelids aren't pulling their weight anymore; you might want to get back in there with the missus. She'll start to wonder why the bed's getting so cold."

Chaldor nodded softly. He thought a moment about what he was about to do; it seemed strange considering he was paying the winged unicorn already.

"Thanks for your help, Garf."

"Meh, don't mention it; gold's thanks enough," he huffed, and turned his attention away. Chaldor sighed; he should have known better.

He retreated back to the run-down door, opening it as quietly as he could. Ichna was still asleep; Kibeth was curled up at her side. Chaldor admired the sight for a moment or two, hoping he wouldn't disturb it, before his knees began to cry at him to get his weight off of them. He slid thankfully into the bed, hearing his muscles and bones creak with weariness. It was only minutes before he was beginning to snore, more loudly than his wife and filly combined.