Shace McGinty

Shace worked on a pegasus farm. 

Her job was to clip the wings of the horses that were too old to fly. 

She hated the job. 

Shace believed that it wasn’t anyone’s decision but the soul of that being to decide what was best for them. 

The clipping was the worst part of living on the farm.

Shace did her best to earn their trust, but how much can you trust someone who steals your magic?

On clipping day, the herd, sensing what was coming, would gather around the older pegasus and snort and paw at the ground with their hooves in a protective circle.

Shace would have to jump to avoid the lightning and dust flying up from the dirt. She had a scar on her left shoulder from one exceptionally upset mare. 

Shace hated watching any animal in pain. And she hated that it was her job to put them through the pain. 

Of course, it wasn’t just physical pain.

It was a kind of ethereal pain of knowing that their purpose as magical beings was now over.

It was a pain of becoming purposeless and ordinary.

Shace related to this pain.

As a Middle she spent most days without purpose.

She’d taken this job reluctantly because she got to be around animals instead of people. And she needed to work.

Shace found that most people weren’t accepting of her. They didn’t know what to make of her. They couldn’t handle her Middleness. They bombarded her with questions she didn’t ever feel like answering and so she surrounded herself with space and with beings who didn’t ask questions.

Shace only interacted with people when absolutely necessary—to turn in clipped wings, to get more game tokens, to use the simulator and recharge—that was it and sometimes that felt like too much. 

Shace loved the simple gentleness and the fierce protectiveness of the pegasus herd. If she hadn’t been tasked with the job of clipping wings, she thought they may have been accepted her as one of them. 

Better get on with it… she thought.

Shace steadied herself and turned towards the herd.

She’d decided to try something new today. She thought it might hurt the animal less.

She would suffer more, but she knew she would heal eventually.

Connecting to the ground and sky, she stood and faced the herd. She narrowed her eyes and breathed in slowly, as she did the sky behind the horses flattened and stretched down to the horizon. The horses shook their heads as if dizzy and disoriented.

Breathing out in one quick burst, Shace ran and leapt over the horses' heads into the middle of the herd as she snapped the sky back to center. 

The horses, realizing they’d been momentarily duped, immediately came to and furiously started pawing at the ground, bucking their heads angrily at Shace.

Hovering above the older pegasus, Shace felt streaks of hot, white air fly by her as she hovered above the herd pulling her gold handled sickle out from her knapsack, tying it quickly to right hip.

The horses whinnied and bucked harder at the sight of the sickle. 

Shace felt sick. This part always made her sick, but she had to keep going.

Shace narrowed her eyes and focused hard on the pegasus target, unspooling her lasso from her left hip. She breathed in slowly, bending and pulling the earth under the pegasus towards where she hovered in midair.

The rest of the herd stumbled and scrambled, whinnying as they fell away.

Just as the pegasus got close enough to her, Shace lassoed the beauty and pulled it up under her to ride it.

She breathed out quickly to restore the earth under the other horses and deftly steered the pegasus in the air towards the North Field.

The pegasus bucked and whinnied and tried to throw Shace, but she was too strong and too determined to get this over with for both their sakes.

Shace breathed in and the air stretched out on either side of them. Then, breathing out loudly, and she and the pegasus shot towards the North Field as if flung by a life-sized bow.

Shace knew she had one chance to get this right. 

The instant they crossed over the fence to the North Field, Shace breathed in again until the Earth stretched up directly just under the pegasus’ hooves. In one move, she ran the sickle quickly along the horses’ shoulder blades and breathed out fast to make the earth retract back down, taking the de-winged horse with it.

The horse galloped and whinnied in anguish.

Shace tried not to look. She knew the horse would heal quickly, within a day or so. But she couldn’t dwell. She had to get to the Silo.

Gripping the angry wings as they fought and flapped in her face, Shane winced and grimaced at their fury. She struggled to hold the wings to her chest as they sputtered and fought to fly away. Shace knew that if she let go that this whole horrible day would have been for nothing. 

The wings were searing hot—even through her gloves and leather vest she could feel the heat. She felt her arms starting to fatigue. If she could just hold on long enough to get to the Silo. 

She looked ahead. The Silo was thirty yards away.

“Come on… only a little bit longer…” she muttered through clenched teeth.

The wings fought and whipped up and down, and up and down in Shace’s face. Pegasus wings, once detached, have less than two minutes before they turn into cold, heavy steel. Once detached, every once soft, glowing feather becomes a razor-edged blade.

Shace had to get the wings to the Silo’s simulator.

Fifteen yards away… 

“Come on… come ON… almost there!” 

Shace knew she was cutting it close. She could feel the temperature of the wings dropping and even thought the wings were still holding her up, they were beginning to lose height. 

She decided to cheat. 

Shace breathed in and the sky behind her stretched sideways and with a swift exhale, she and the wings burst through the side of the Silo and tumbled onto the silver hay. 

Quickly, Shace shook her head, stood up and raced towards the wings. They’d stopped struggling and were growing colder and starting to gray.

Shace knew any minute they would be too sharp to touch and way too heavy to move.

She grabbed the wings with both hands. Good God they were heavy already.

“OUCH!… Dammit.” A razor’s edge sliced the palm of her left hand. 

Shace was running out of time. 

She dropped to the Silo floor and kicked the wings along with the bottoms of her boots towards the simulator. 

“Hurry up … hurry up… come on… come on!” 

Shace pushed the wings along the floor with the heels of her boots, but every movement felt heavier and she could see the wings turning into that metallic cold she dreaded.

“Only a few… - shove - faster - come on - FEET!” 

Shace shoved hard with her right food and one of the wing’s razors stuck to her sole. 

“Fricking ugh! You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” 

Shace only had five feet to go. Bracing herself against the floor with her hands, she shoved with her left foot. Her left hand burned from the gash across her palm and she kept slipping on the silver hay. 

“I can do this… I can do this… come on... you stupid… piece of… STEEL!” 

With one final shove, Shace heaved the wings through the simulator doors and the razors immediatly retracted into the wings. Shace yanked her foot out, slammed the simulator doors shut, and plopped back against the floor of the Silo. 

"Good grief..."

She exhaled and closed her eyes.

Heavy, sad, and exhausted she heard a barn owl hooting wistfully in the distance.

Why do I always hear owls on my hardest days here? she thought.

Owls reminded her of Magdalene. A small comfort on such a wretched day.

She opened her eyes and examined the gash on her hand.

Well, that’s going going to piss off the Play Master. He never likes it when I look beat up. Sigh...

Shace looked up at the walls of the Silo.

She’d always found the Silo to be a place of contradiction. The Silo’s floor and fifteen feet up the walls made the place feel like a working barn, but if you’d made it to a high enough level to earn an Eye Piece, and you had the curiosity to look above you, you could see rows and rows of perfect preserved, golden pegasus wings.

Her farm had a monopoly on the market. 

The Player in her always felt a rush of excitement and a deep drive to earn beyond her current level when she glimpsed the finished wings.

But the sweet hearted Middle in her ached at the sight. So many pegasusses turned from flying wonders to earth-bound horses. Many well before their time. Or so she thought. 

“Shace!” 

It was one of her Keepers. 

“Shace! There’s someone here to see you.” 

Shace sighed and looked down at her bloodied hand and her slashed boot and knew that she probably looked a tousled mess. 

“SHACE!"

“Geez… I’m coming!” 

Shace took some of the silver hay and pressed it against her hand. She got up and squinted as she walked out into the light.