Bloodmane - Part II
Saddle Arabia. A village called Kathiawari, long after sundown. It was a peaceful, quiet place along a river, its green floodplain a stark contrast to the surrounding desert. The peaceful nature of this town was going to be shattered by morning. Fine Crime knew it; he would be the one doing the shattering.
He was perched atop one of the yellow-bricked buildings, observing the town below with expectant eyes. From his throat hung a necklace, at the bottom of which was a knife made from a black unicorn’s horn. He bounced the knife against his hoof, a habit he’d developed in the past two years for when his urges were strong.
Tonight those urges were very strong indeed. For the past week he couldn’t so much as look at another pony without seeing blood. He needed a victim. Tonight, and no later.
But who to target? A place as small as Kathiawari didn’t have the same kind of scum he was used to dispatching in the cities. If he was going to do this, he wanted it to be against somepony other ponies would be glad to see gone. A thief, a bully, a villain. He was having trouble finding somepony like that here. If he didn’t find one soon he’d have to target somepony more innocent, and he hated having to do that. If only he’d been able to reach Neighro…
He was up there for hours, moving from roof to roof, looking for a potential victim. The headaches – the first sign of withdrawal – were much stronger tonight. He’d learned the symptoms early, when he’d fought so hard to avoid his instincts. He learned just as early that he couldn’t possibly defeat them.
He was just beginning to consider entering a random home when he heard the racket. He moved to the edge of the house he was on and watched as Arabian security officers chased a brown-robed pony. The gears Fine’s head began to turn as he took in the style of the robe’s design, its age, its fabric, its form. The pony was carrying something, a satchel of some sort that hung from his – her? – neck like an oversized necklace. The robes suggested the pony was from one of the nomadic tribes that wandered the deserts.
A thief. Perhaps something more, Fine couldn’t be sure at this distance. The fugitive was easily keeping ahead of the officers. Fine watched the fleeing pony weave through the streets and alleys, the officers struggling to keep up with the fleet-footed crook.
He would do.
Fine began to follow the chase, sticking to the rooftops, observing how the pony made his decisions. He began picking out the thief’s routes, trying to guess which way he’d go. After a while he started to get some right. Not long after he had the pony’s tricky maneuvers worked out. The officers, on the other hoof, were falling behind very quickly.
The thief kept moving, even after he’d lost his pursuers. Playing it safe, it seemed. Fine Crime kept up with him, slipping through shadows and behind walls and over rooftops. He’d a lot of practice in the past two years, and plenty of endurance. He could almost see the blood staining the pony’s robes…
At last the pony stopped, hiding in a dead-end alley. A terrible place to pause if one knew he was being followed.
Fine Crime was perched on the roof of one of the buildings, body low, eyeing the pony from above. The robe was pushed back, revealing a zebra mare. Fine analyzed her as she dropped to her haunches and began to sift eagerly through her satchel.
The vision came. He followed it almost immediately; the knife was held aloft by magic just before his eyes. He kept an eye closed. Focus… Focus…
The blade shot through the air, embedding itself in the mare’s spine. Even as it did, Fine dropped from the roof. The zebra stumbled, made a sound of quiet alarm and tried to turn on her attacker even as her paralyzed back legs dropped from under her. He landed on top of her. She let out a cry and tried to strike him with the back of her head, but missed. She tried to shove him off; he grabbed the satchel, jerked it back, stood.
The zebra let out a pained gasp as the strap pressed against her throat, but she managed to struggle free. Fine shifted, using all his strength to shove her sideways against the wall. With a free hoof he spun the satchel, twisting the strap, then jerked it back against her throat once more.
It was over. She was pinned to the wall, unable to move her back legs. Her front legs squirmed and kicked, but couldn’t get hold of him or the strap. She was a fighter; she tried pushing against the wall. He held the strap tight and pushed her right back against it. She kept trying, but his hold was too strong, and she was rapidly losing air. As she slowed, he used his magic to jerk the knife from her back.
Then he went to work with it.
When the deed was done and the gloriously happy sensations went away he found himself covered in blood, the zebra a nasty mess on the alley floor. He turned away and vomited.
For a moment he remained leaning against the wall, sweating from exertion, shaking with self-loathing. After two years, he was still disgusted by his murderous instincts. Always hating his existence, only to be so exhilarated when the time came to do the deed.
He knew better than to linger. He took the satchel and disappeared onto the rooftops. It was the usual routine: commit the deed, gather what could be gathered for survival, go to the next town. In a town as small as this, that last part was essential.
But there was no food or stolen goods in the satchel. No, nothing at all like that. He pulled the object out with his teeth and set it down on the ground before him. He stared in stunned silence at the beauty of it.
It was a crown. Golden with a ring of tiny rubies all along the bottom, and bright diamonds nestled in front. It was in the Equestrian style, and it was gorgeous. What in the name of Celestia was that thief doing with something like this?
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
If he were any other pony, Fine might have leapt up in the air in surprise. Instead, he merely turned about swiftly, ready for the attack.
The speaker was a dark grey pegasus wearing an old black coat and glasses; he was tall, big and friendly looking. He also had a bright pink mane that was so hideous Fine thought his eyes might start bleeding. He raised a calming hoof. “Whoa, slow down. I come in peace.”
Right. Fine kept on alert, eyes darting around to check for exits and other ponies that might be backing the stallion up.
“That was fine work back there,” the stallion said, standing on his hind legs to lean back against the wall at the roof’s edge. “Messy, but well done.” Fine kept silent, and the pegasus frowned critically. “You’re about as quiet as the file claims.”
File?
“Oh, got your attention there,” he declared with a grin. “While I’ve got it, I’m Hoofknife. Not my real name, granted, but it suits me well. Your name, on the other hoof, is a stroke of genius. Fine Crime. Wish I’d thought of that!”
Now Fine was truly alarmed. He took a few careful steps back, picking up the crown with his magic.
“Do be careful with that,” Hoofknife said with visible worry in his eyes. He dropped back to four hooves. “If we lose it the Princess will have my head.”
Princess?
“Celestia, of course.”
Fine Crime didn’t believe a word of it. He could smell a trap.
“Do you even know what that is? You don’t, do you? That’s the crown of the Unknown Princess.”
He’d never heard of her.
Hoofknife nodded, as if acknowledging what was in Fine’s head. “She was from a time long ago, before even the reign of Discord. You do know who Discord was, don’t you?”
He did. Vaguely. Fine studied the crown, but couldn’t tell if it was old or not. If it really did date to the time before Discord, it would be well over thirteen hundred years old. Which meant either the crown had been extremely well-kept, or Hoofknife was lying. Obviously it was the latter.
A few seconds of silence passed, then Hoofknife waved dismissively. “Look, the history of the crown’s not important. What is important is that we need to bring it back to Equestria, where it belongs. That’s a national heirloom, you know.”
He wanted it? He’d have to let Fine go, first.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You, Fine Crime, are a pony of so many talents.” Hoofknife indicated a large size with his hooves. “You know I’ve got a file with your name on it in my office back home this big? I have to admit, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for some time.”
Fine was tired of these stories. “What do you want?”
“He speaks!” Hoofknife clapped his hooves as if something very impressive had just happened. “I was beginning to think you’d gone mute. That would have made things a bit awkward.”
Fine wasn’t laughing.
The pegasus sobered quickly, his face serious. “Alright then, if that’s how you want to do it. Let me tell you some things, Fine. We know lots of things about lots of ponies. Our information network spans the known world. If I had the file on me I could tell you the life history of the stallion living in the house we’re standing on.”
“Mares.”
“Excuse me?”
“The ponies living in this house are a pair of mares. Fooling fillies.”
Hoofknife reared back and pointed at him with both hooves. “That! That’s what I want! You’ve got gifts, Fine Crime. As I was saying, we have files that explain the entire life of some ponies. We’ve been watching you for the past year and a half, though, and there are huge chunks missing from your file. Why? Because you’re so good at hiding! One day our file says you’re in Trottingham, and next week you’re in New Horseleans! You evade our information network like a pro, and you don’t even know you’re under surveillance! It’s inspiring.”
Fine Crime glanced around in perplexity. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, and your future.” Hoofknife sat, his expression serious once again. “Your past, too. We know you’re a bloodmane.” Fine shifted at that. “We know you need to kill once a month to satisfy the bloodlust, or suffer horrible withdrawal symptoms. We suspect the seed for that came when your mother died in that unfortunate sailing accident—”
“That was no accident!”
The stallion paused, seeming to have been caught off guard. He considered Fine, cocking his head. “Is that so?”
Fine Crime cursed himself for having said it. He’d not told anyone what he’d seen, not since Kit. He wasn’t about to break his silence now. “You wouldn’t believe me,” he muttered, “but it was no accident.”
“You’d be surprised at what I would believe, Fine Crime.”
Yeah right. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re after – really – so I can get on with my disappearing act.”
“Oh yes, run away.” The pegasus sneered. “Just keep on hiding, as you’ve been doing all your life. A meaningless existence living on the blood of the dregs of society. But we know that you want to do more. You want to have a purpose. I am here to offer you such an opportunity.”
Fine almost laughed at that. “Am I hearing this right? Are you trying to offer me a job?”
But Hoofknife wasn’t smiling. “No, Fine Crime, I’m offering you an apprenticeship. With the Dark Archons of Equestria.”
Fine sagged and turned aside. “That’s a bad joke.”
“It’s no joke, Verity Fine Crime of Las Pegasus. The Archons are real. We serve Equestria in the shadows, under Princess Celestia’s banner.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“But you want to,” Hoofknife pointed out. “You’ve longed for an opportunity like this. You’d be a fool to pass it up, just as I’d be a fool not to make the offer.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to recruit for an organization that thrives on absolute anonymity and the veil of nonexistence? It’s a nightmare; the training, the testing, the loyalty games, the indoctrination. Equestria loses fifty ponies each year just to our training. So when we find a pony like you – self-trained, phenomenally talented, already off the grid, dying for some personal meaning – we pay attention.”
Fine Crime stared in quiet, calm shock. This stallion was serious. Dead serious.
“You’ve got all the self-made qualifications of a senior field agent,” Hoofknife concluded. “You just killed a known nomad criminal who has been eluding us for seven months. We lost thirteen agents to that zebra, and you took her down alone in five minutes. I saw you do it. It was supposed to be my job. I. Want. You.”
Fine still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Really, he couldn’t. “I still don’t believe the Archons exist. I don’t think I’m going anywhere with you.” He used his magic to toss the crown to the pegasus, who caught it in his teeth with an alarmed look.
Hoofknife set the crown down very carefully. “I told you to be careful with that thing!”
He straightened up quickly, though. “Look, Fine, I understand. Your entire life’s been one big disappointment, and the Archons have always put a priority on secrecy. Nopony believes in us because we don’t want them to. But think about it anyway: a salary that makes your father seem like a pauper, the responsibility of protecting Equestria from its enemies, working in the name of Princess Celestia herself. Your life can have some meaning!”
Fine Crime had had enough of these blatant lies; he turned and prepared to leave.
“How about a chance for your killings to serve a purpose?”
The bloodmane paused.
“You kill because you have to. There’s no meaning to the endless death that surrounds you, no purpose save to slake your desires. We can give you the opportunity to use your murderous instinct for something other than wanton violence. What if you had the chance to give your bloodmane problem a productive use?”
That sounded far too good to be true. But…if there was even the slightest chance… “Productive…murder?”
“We’re an espionage organization, Fine,” Hoofknife pointed out with ominous intent. “Assassination is part of our purview.”
Fine Crime turned back to the stallion, mind churning. He’d already analyzed the pegasus, and could find nothing to prove or disprove what he was saying. He didn’t believe it, he couldn’t.
But he was going to kill anyway. He had to. If he could turn that terrible instinct of his into something productive to somepony, that would be better than the state he was in now. And if he was doing for Princess Celestia?
Did that make it good? Could killing be qualified as good?
He approached the pegasus slowly. “I still don’t believe in the Archons.”
Hoofknife nodded. “But you’ll come with me?”
“I’ll come,” he agreed. “Anything is better than this.”
“Let me get this straight.” Hoofknife peered at Fine. “You’re not getting on the boat.”
Fine Crime was on his haunches, staring at the ship bound for Equestria. He was paralyzed. “No.”
The pegasus stalked back and forth in frustration. “The file said you were afraid of the open water, but this is far more than I expected. You’re really not going to get on the boat?”
“I can’t,” he whispered. Even after all these years, those eyes still terrified him.
Hoofknife threw up his hooves in exasperation. “Of course not. Fine, there are no land routes from Saddle Arabia to Equestria!”
“I’m aware.”
“Then how do you expect to get back to Equestria?!”
He had no answer. He only stared at that ship, fighting to keep tears from his eyes.
Hoofknife sighed and sat in front of him. “How did you get over the ocean in the first place?”
“Accident,” Fine answered feebly. “A very scary, terrible accident.”
“Well, do you have any suggestions?”
Fine shook his head slowly. “Nope.”
Hoofknife rubbed his hooves against his head, thinking hard. Then he gained a hopeful expression. “I could have the ship’s nurse cast a sleeping spell, then haul you onboard.”
“Father did that once,” Fine admitted. “Wouldn’t speak to him for a wee – couldn’t, I was too busy crying in a tiny ball under the bunk, waiting to die.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Hoofknife declared, hopping to gain flight. “You wait right here, or you can forget about joining up!” He was gone to the ship.
No. No, no, no, he couldn’t do this. Fine still remembered his last experience, when he’d gone to bed in what he’d thought was an abandoned freighter only to wake in the middle of the Atprancic Ocean. His panic attack was so fierce the crew had to tie him down for the duration of the trip.
Nopony understood. They hadn’t seen that massive monster beneath the waves, it’s huge fangs and glowing yellow eyes. They hadn’t seen their mothers swallowed whole by a beast that could make hundred-foot waves on a whim. They didn’t know what lurked under the oceans’ depths.
He knew, and to this day it filled him with unbridled, uncontrollable horror. He couldn’t go out on the open ocean. He didn’t believe in the Archons anyway, so what did he have to lose? Just turn and disappear in the shipyards. The next time Hoofknife found him he’d be in some city hundreds of miles away…
He bowed his head, ready to abandon everything in his misery. But there was that knife, still dangling from his neck. He remembered Sugarcube and how meaningless her death had been.
Bloodmane. It was his curse. This was his chance to give that curse meaning. All those ponies he’d killed over the past two years had died for no reason. He didn’t want any more to die pointlessly.
He had to stay. Though it required the tightest control of every muscle in his body not to bolt, he had to stay.
He was so glad when the nurse finally came out with Hoofknife to put him to sleep. As he began to nod off, he hoped and prayed that this journey was worth it.
Eastern Equestria, in the countryside. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and Fine Crime was beneath the shade of a tall pine. He stood perfectly still, concentrating on his magic. He’d been waiting for hours, determined to move as little as possible during the wait. He was suffering from a terrible migraine, and he knew what it meant. His companions had told him he was just suffering from using too much magic. He knew better. He’d tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen, and they put him in the kill zone.
Kill zone. If only they knew.
So he stood there, trying to ignore everything but the path ahead and his spell. It took all his focus not to lose his control. He’d been holding it for so long… His magical endurance was improving, but this was one hell of a way to show it.
Voices. Hoofsteps. He watched, fighting to not wipe the sweat from his brow. There they were, two stallions. He recognized them from a week of careful observation. He prepped himself, watching intently. Not yet… Not yet…
Now.
He released the spell, and the two stallions found themselves surrounded by five ponies. Weapons were drawn. One of the ambushers tried to speak, and got cut down for his trouble. The battle began. It was short and bloody.
To Fine’s shock, one of the stallions was getting away, abandoning his fatally-wounded ally. The other ponies were all hurt and in no shape to follow; this fellow was damn good. Fine gave chase, leaving his team behind. They’d been stalking these ponies for weeks, and he wasn’t about to let one escape!
The stallion had run off into the woods. The area was thick with vines and shrubs and fallen logs, making the chase difficult for them both. But Fine was catching up, and his quarry knew it. Finally, when there was enough room to pull out his spear, the stallion turned to face the pursuing unicorn.
Fine paused just out of range, observed his opponent coolly for a moment. The stallion grinned confidently, taunting and goading Fine to approach. Fine sat on his haunches, shook his head in annoyance, then shot a small laser high over the pony.
The tree branch dropped right on the stallion’s head, knocking him off his hooves.
Fine used his magic to toss the spear away, then walked over to look down at his victim. The stallion groaned and didn’t bother to get up. Blood was dripping from a nasty cut on his foreh—
A cut. Blood. It had been what, six weeks? Yes… Six weeks…
He didn’t he realize what he was doing until the other ponies arrived to pull him away. He dropped the bloodied branch, huffing and puffing and delighting in the fresh blood on his face. His team mates were horrified, and something hit him hard on the back of the head.
He came to his senses slowly, lying on his side in the grass. He rose and saw the others over the body, digging through the dead stallion’s belongings and casting fearful looks his way. Fine didn’t feel guilty, not this time. He turned and left them to it, rubbing the back of his sore head as he made his careful way back to the road.
Hoofknife was waiting for him.
“Celestia be damned, Fine!” He was pacing the road, cheeks almost as pink as his mane. “What part of ‘capture them alive’ didn’t you understand? Do you have any idea how far behind this is going to put our investigation?!”
Fine merely sat by the road and watched.
“Weeks we’ve been going after these two. Dozens of sleepless days and nights trying to infiltrate Don Trotioni’s organization. Two agents dead! This is a disaster, a complete bucking disaster!”
Hoofknife paused and gave Fine a dirty look. “Well?”
Finally. “The stallions fought and the others defended themselves. I wasn’t involved with that first part, save for timing the release of the invisibility spell. They were very late arriving, by the way; what’s with that?”
“Keep talking,” Hoofknife growled.
Fine shrugged. “The other one was going to get away, so I pursued.”
“And you killed him!”
Fine leveled a sinister glare at his so-called ‘mentor.’ “I’m a bloodmane. I’d gone six weeks without an assassination job or alternative, twice as long as normal. Do you have any idea how much pain I’ve been in these past three weeks? It took every fiber of my self control not to take out one of my own team mates!”
“I told you, the Archons don’t have any need for assassinations right now. You’ve got a list of acceptable victims, you should have taken time and—”
“No time off. No leaves of absence. No excuses.” Fine pointed at him. “Your orders, Mane Archon!”
Hoofknife stared at him unpleasantly for several seconds, then turned away to brood. After a while he said, “Damn it, Fine Crime, that need of yours is a pain in the flank.”
“You want it? I’d be happy to give it up.”
The Archon leader shook his head, and his voice took on a softer tone. “Look, I’m sorry. I was so eager to get this done… I’ve been after the Don most of my career. I guess in the heat of the chase I forgot.”
Fine’s lips curled back as he let out a snarl. “How can you forget? I think the coat of blood I get soaked in once a month is a pretty clear reminder!”
Hoofknife glowered at him. “Fine, Fine. From here on in I don’t care how important the mission is; if you think there’s a chance you could go off the hook like that, get the hell out and do what you have to do. Defy orders if you have to, I’ll watch out for you. I can’t have another mission like this one blown so horribly!”
To this Fine nodded his glum acceptance, and Hoofknife turned away to stare at the bodies being taken care of in the road. Fine walked over and sat beside him. “So, what now?”
“Disaster control,” the Mane Archon muttered, “and I start looking for another hole in the Don’s legal defense.”
Fine asked the question that had been on his mind for the past several months. “Why don’t you just have somepony kill the Don? I could do it.”
But Hoofknife shook his head. “Princess Celestia wants the Don’s defeat captured in the spotlight, in a legal way. This way the public can know that the government can stop villains like him.”
Fine tilted his head. “But the government can’t stop villains like him. Not if they want to follow their own precious rules.”
“That’s why we’re doing the dirty work behind the scenes,” the pegasus declared. “We get the goods, Don goes on trial, government agencies get the credit.”
“And we don’t get anything,” Fine muttered.
“We get the satisfaction of a job well done in the name of a better Equestria,” Hoofknife corrected. “And it helps that the Princess promised to let me send the bastard to Cloptrotamo once he’s been convicted. Off the record, of course.”
“But the public never knows what we’re doing,” Fine noted.
“That’s the whole point. As far as the average pony in Equestria is concerned, the world is full of sunshine and rainbows and naive singalongs. Without ponies like us to keep the nightmares at bay, the world would be a much different place. If the public knew about the Archons, it would be proof that the scary monsters and bad little ponies are real. Keeping the world calm and peaceful and happy via our complete non-existence. That’s something only we can do.”
“But the world’s not shiny and happy,” Fine countered. “I grew up in that darker half. How can ponies ignore what’s right in front of their eyes?”
“They aren’t ignoring it,” Hoofknife replied. “Hunger and poverty and crime are everywhere. The public deals with it as best it can. The dangers you and I take care of are far more sinister, and very intentional.”
“Like the Don.”
“Yeah, like him.”
Fine thought about the pony’s words for some time. “I think I get it,” he said at last. “I don’t like it…but I get it.”
The Mane Archon shrugged. “It’s something we all learn with time, Fine, by observation and study. You’re good at that, so it shouldn’t take you too much longer. You’re learning, my friend, that’s all.
“Now get out of here and clean up, before somepony thinks you’re a bloodmane.”
He stood before the door, nervous beyond comprehension. How long had it been? Five years, perhaps? Far too long. What would he say? What would he do? He’d thought about those questions for nearly a year now, and he still didn’t have any good answers. This was his third attempt, though, and he’d be damned if he didn't pull it off this time.
It was so hard just to knock. He waited, petrified with a guilty fear. He could do this. He could take the plunge. He wouldn’t dare bolt again.
The door opened. The unicorn had yellow hair that had dulled with age, and his mottled brown coat was starting to gain a touch of grey. He looked up at Fine with uncertain eyes. Fine stared back, mind numb with uncertainty.
“Verity?”
Fine tried to open his mouth. No words came out.
And then Fleurboard wrapped him in a tight hug. “Oh, thank sweet merciful Celestia, Verity! Is that really you in there?”
Finally broken from his fear, Verity Fine warmly returned his father’s hug. “Hey, Dad. I’m home.”
The older stallion stepped back, tears in his eyes. “Oh gentle heavens, look at you. All grown up! You’re even taller than me. Come in, welcome home!” He gave his son another hug even as he tried to step back into the apartment.
They entered the main room, which looked just as clean and in-style as Fine had remembered. “Still an interior designer?”
“Oh, yes, business has been good.” Fleurboard agreed as he wiped tears from his face. “But who cares about me? Where in Celestia’s name have you… You know what? You probably don’t want to talk about that. I remember how you were before you…before you…” The stallion almost broke down in tears again.
Fine smiled sympathetically and gently pushed his father onto a couch. “Dad, I ran away because I was facing some serious problems in my life. It didn’t have anything to do with you, and I intend to tell you about it, right here and right now. But look,” he added, gesturing to himself, “I’m a new stallion! I’ve got a high-paying job that works wonderfully with my special talent. I can choose when I get off, so I’ll be coming to see you anytime you like.
“Life is being so very good to me right now,” he concluded, sitting next his father. “And I promise, I am going to make up for all those years I wouldn’t spend with my old stallion.”
Fleurboard gave his son a feeble smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Verity… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m just so happy to see you again!”
There was a long pause as he focused on recuperating his senses. At last, recovered and beaming, he went on. “This is all so surprising, I don’t know where to start! Why not…why not tell me what this great job of yours is?”
Fine paused, thought about his answer, and smiled warmly. “I’m in the government, Dad.
“I work for Princess Celestia.”
Princess Celestia wanted to see him. Personally. Right now.
Fine felt like he had the first time he’d snuck his way into a house; nervous, excited, but by no means afraid. He couldn’t imagine why he would be called back from Manehattan to personally meet with the Princess, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was a Senior Archon. He served loyally and to the letter.
So here he was, before the private office of the ruler of all Equestria herself. He'd been surprised by the location, for he’d originally expected to meet her in the throne room. It was a foolish mistake; the princess wasn’t going to meet with the agent of an organization that didn’t exist in the publicly-displayed throne room.
The guards announced him, and the doors began to open. He took a moment to adjust the vest he’d bought for just this occasion and trotted formally into the office.
There she was, tall and white-coated and glimmering like the sun itself. She was radiant, that was for certain. Not his idea of knock-out beautiful – in truth he wasn’t sure of his tastes in mares, having little time for them – but even he had to acknowledge that this was a specimen of loveliness. He stood before her desk, doing his best to appear polite and proper before the most powerful pony in the known world.
Celestia was reading several scrolls that were splayed all across her desk. It was rather messy, but the ever-clean Fine Crime wouldn’t dream of pointing this out. She finished reading one of the scrolls before turning her serious face upon him. “You are Fine Crime, protégé of Hoofknife?”
“I am, Princess.”
She stood from the desk. “I am sorry to have called upon you so abruptly. I know you were working on a serious mission in Manehattan involving the remnants of Don Trotioni’s freshly-leaderless organization.”
“I live to serve, ma’am.”
She eyed him, face still serious, then walked to the nearby window to stare at the vast lands far below the castle. “I’m afraid something serious has occurred, something that must be reconciled immediately. I am very sorry to have to say this, Mr. Crime…but the Mane Archon, Hoofknife, is dead.”
The Senior Archon reeled as if struck by a hammer. “W-what? Hoofknife? How?”
“Complications with an old wound he’d received long ago.”
Ah. Fine bowed his head, ears tucking down at the hurt feeling in his chest. “You mean the one he got from the changeling.”
She quietly observed him, as if wondering how much he knew. “I am sorry. I know he considered you a friend.”
“Heh, friend.” The only one he’d had since running away from home. “I don’t make those easily.”
“So I heard,” she noted. “But he did vouch for you in his last testament.”
Fine blinked and turned to her. “You mean he left me something?” This was a surprise.
“Oh yes,” she met his gaze with solemn eyes. “He named you his successor.”
Fine stared, glanced around as if expecting her statement to be aimed at somepony else, then set a hoof to his chest. “Me? He’s named me the Mane Archon?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. I’ve only been with the Archons for a few years. I thought somepony with more experience would be selected.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you can’t do it?”
“I’m saying—” he paused to adjusting his tone. “I’m saying I didn’t expect to be asked to. He did tell you about my disorder?”
Her expression hardened just a touch. “Indeed, he mentioned it to me in the past.”
“And you condone such a thing?”
She shook her head, a slow, serene motion. “Mr. Crime, I’ve been ruling Equestria alone for almost a thousand years. I had to learn long ago to accept certain distasteful things, no matter how much I despised them. To be frank, I hate the Archons and what they do. Their very existence stands as a slap in the face of Harmony and everything that Equestria stands for.
“But I also remember what it was like trying to rule this land before the Archons, and I can tell you without any hesitancy that an Equestria with them is far better off than an Equestria without. Equestria needs the Archons, and so I tolerate them. You being a Bloodmane is not such a big step in comparison.”
He thought about this answer, found he liked it. “Princess,” he said pleasantly, “your honesty is comforting, and as a pony who hates being a Bloodmane I certainly cannot blame you for hating the Archons. Unless I’m mistaken, being the Mane Archon means I’ll be working directly with you?” She nodded. “Then I accept. Graciously. And if I may be so bold, I think the two of us will get along wonderfully.”
To that she smiled, though he could tell it was forced.
“Then you, Fine Crime, are now formally entitled Mane Archon of the Equestrian Dark Archons. I hope your predictions prove true. And now I have something very important to discuss with you.
“Tell me, Mr. Crime; what do you know about Night Mare Moon?”
He was in the sea, fighting for his life. He couldn’t scream for the water in his throat, couldn’t breathe for the fear that gripped his mind. He struggled and kicked and prayed, but he just kept descending into the black, murky depths. Great scaled pillars arose from the dark, encircling him, trapping him within like a mighty underwater forest. He beat his legs frantically against the cold water, trying with all his might to swim even though he didn’t have the faintest idea how, but he kept going down. Down into oblivion. Down into death. Down to those massive yellow eyes and the tree-sized teeth, each a jagged knife made from unicorn horns.
But then something new happened. A light shined down from above. It pierced the murky depths and struck the beast’s eyes. It squirmed and struggled, then finally faded as if it had only been a shadow itself.
He was rising… No, that wasn’t right. The water was lowering, like the entire ocean was being drained. What was this? What was happening to his nightmare?
He burst out of the water, coughing and gagging as he laid on his stomach and struggled to control himself. He was on land, a dry beach. The same beach he’d been on so long ago as a foal. It was night, pitch black despite the bright moon.
And then she appeared, floating down from that celestial object like a veritable goddess.
Princess Luna.
Ah. Now he understood.
Fine sat up, front legs wobbling, to greet the princess. She dropped to the waters, walking on the ocean’s smooth surface. He stared. He couldn’t help it: Princess Celestia was radiant, but her sister was a true beauty. He was almost speechless. Almost.
“My humble thanks to you, fair Princess,” he declared, bowing respectfully.
“AND THOU ART VERY WELCOME, MY LOYAL SUBJECT!”
He leaned back and rubbed an ear with his hoof. “Whoa… Your sister told me you were going to have trouble with that kind of thing.”
Princess Luna tilted her head, though managed to retain the firm, practiced regal expression. “THOU HAST SPOKEN WITH OUR SISTER OF US? WHO ART THOU, TO WARRANT SUCH AN AUDIENCE?”
He shook his head to clear the ringing. “Hell, lady! I mean, uh, princess. Sorry, I meant princess.” He coughed self-consciously. “I am Fine Crime, Mane Archon of the Equestrian Dark Archons.”
“WE SEE—” She paused and shook her head with an annoyed look. “We see. Celestia has spoken to us of the Archons, who were founded after our exile. Thou undertakest matters of espionage, are we correct?”
“That is correct,” he confirmed, greatly relieved in her change of tone. “And it is my understanding that you, Princess, are to take over responsibility of our organization in a couple of weeks.”
“This is indeed so, Sir Crime,” she replied. “We imagine we shall be seeing much more of one another in the near future.”
“And I look forward to it.” He really did.
She nodded in her formal manner, but then glanced about his dream world. “Sir Crime, we must ask thee of this nightmare you suffer from. The great beast that threatens to devour thee, from whence did you perceive it?”
Fine considered the question. Should he say? Yes… yes, he probably should. The princess wasn’t like ordinary ponies; surely she’d seen things unknown to much of the world. Who better to believe him? But speaking about what he’d seen openly…
Fine made his decision, but he still had to take a moment to prepare himself.
“When I was a foal,” he began stiffly, “my parents took me on a sailing trip into the Everfree Sea. We were caught in what we thought was a storm; the boat sank and…and…” He swallowed and fought back down memories. “I saw that…that thing under the sea. I believe, with my very soul, that the terrible seas were caused by it. And I watched it… It ate my mother.”
She remained solemnly silent, listening with great care. He found he appreciated her attention. It gave him a touch of confidence. “I’ve told only a very few ponies about that experience, princess. I’ve told even less about the beast that has haunted my nightmares all my life. I've not even told my father, who was there. Frankly, I don’t expect anypony to believe me.”
That last part was a question in the form of a sentence, and he could see she caught it.
Luna paused to consider his words, a hoof set to her lips. “That beast has never been witnessed by our eyes,” she admitted. “Yet that does not negate its existence. There are secret enemies of Equestria, Sir Crime. Enemies of the whole known world. If thou hast experience and reason to claim there is a great demon within the seas, we have no reason to doubt it.”
He blinked, thought about her words, blinked again. She was willing to believe him?
But the princess wasn’t finished. “Thou hast shared something very personal with us, Mane Archon. In return, there is something very personal that we would share with thee. It is an issue that is of great import to us, and my sister encouraged us to see you on the matter. We intended to wait until we had assumed command of the Archons, but as we are here now...”
Fine smiled, bowing once more. “I live to serve, princess.”
Luna approached, appearing strangely nervous. Then she asked him, in a manner he found strangely cryptic, “Mane Archon, what can you tell us about the stars?”
“So,” he asked, “I assume you’ve read my final report?”
“Yes, it was quite detailed.” Luna set the massive bound book on the desk between them, eyeing it as if it were something dangerous. “I must admit I was expecting an essay, not a novel.”
“You told me to be thorough.”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”
He grinned. “Sorry. Should have warned you.”
“But now that it’s all done, I do have some questions.”
“I’ll answer what I can.”
Luna opened the book with her magic, flipping pages. “This first candidate, Upper Crust. Frankly, Fine, I do not see what she brings to this team.”
His lips curled in a wry smile. “You didn’t fully read her section, did you?”
She blushed and cast a wayward look to the side. “I have other duties to attend to aside from reading a thousand pages.”
“Got it,” he replied with a chuckle. “Fact is, Upper Crust has a lot of value to this group. Her special talent has a phenomenal range of uses.”
Luna raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Guessing? Truly?”
“No, estimating. Upper Crust has huge potential. She’s lived her entire life feeling like she has nothing to offer, but with a little creativity and positive thinking she could really go places. I watched her for a month, Luna, and I promise you: by the time this is done she could be one of the most important members of this team.”
The princess set a hoof to her chin, still appearing uncertain. “I think I need an example.”
“She doesn’t just estimate distances,” Fine pressed. “Range. Price. Size. Material. Style. Direction. Source. She processes the information and within seconds spits out a potential outcome, and her accuracy rate is astonishing. Can you imagine applying that kind of ability to economic, political or even military uses?”
She tilted her head at him. “Somewhat as you have done?”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “I analyze a situation and form the best outcome. It takes time and required a lifetime of practice. Her abilities are much faster and have a very different set of applications.”
Luna considered this a bit longer, but finally nodded. “I am still not sure I understand, but I will accept this. It would be better to see her in action than judge from the test alone. Let us move on to Nye.
“Ah, you’re favorite quill-pal.”
She smiled. “He has become a pleasant friend.” It faded as quickly as it had come. “But he too I do not see as entirely valuable for this group. He is a cobbler, Fine.”
“He’s lazy,” Fine added. “He lacks self esteem and responsibility, and his physical talents leave much to be desired.”
She frowned at his words. “I thought you were going to defend him?”
He nodded solemnly. “I am. You see, underneath that sad image is a diamond waiting to be polished. Maybe he can’t run a marathon or think on his hooves, but he’s got compassion, and a desire to belong. And I think that, above all else, he will do anything for the friends he’s finally found – you included.
“I didn’t choose Nye Stone for what he physically brings to this team,” he concluded. “I chose him because I believe he can provide a certain morale element. Most of these other ponies aren’t used to working in groups, or simply don’t get along with others. They need a glue to keep them together, and Nye is it.”
She looked down at the book, the doubt clear on her face. “You really think Nye has those qualities?”
“Luna, I do. And I don’t have to go any farther for proof than to ask how he treated you compared to others upon seeing you for the first time.”
She stared at him, then slowly smiled. “Alright, Fine. Alright. Now—” she flipped pages again, “—his brother. Smart, moderately athletic. A hard worker. I like him. But he strikes me as a bit aloof.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d catch that,” he admitted.
“I did. Jimmy Stone also seems very career-centric. I wonder if he would rather pursue his legacy than work for us.”
“I don’t believe it will be an issue,” Fine declared. “Jimmy provides a lot of utility to this group. He has the problem-solving smarts of an engineer and the brawn of a front-liner, so we can place him exactly where we need him at any given moment. He has his social issues, true, but that’s why we have Nye. Given time and a little encouragement, I believe Jimmy will be a very loyal and capable member of the team...if a little boring.”
Luna raised an eyebrow once more, the doubt plain on her face. “I suppose I shall have to take your word on it. I do believe he would be a strong member, after all...assuming he can grow past his tendency for inaction.”
The book flipped around once more, and Luna set her hoof down on a page. “This one. This…Octavia. She’s very good, Fine. Very good indeed. Too good. Are you sure she isn’t over-qualified?”
Fine laughed. “All the fretting about the others’ negative traits, and now you doubt the one without them?”
Luna frowned. “Remember what this team is about, Fine. It’s not just being the best.”
“I know,” he answered soberly, “and Octavia isn’t the best. On paper she looks excellent. In fact I’m recommending that she be made the leader of this little group. She has great qualities: honest, surprisingly strong, intelligent, resourceful, quick on her hooves, kind, determined. But those qualities string from her life experiences, a focus on self-perfection and independence. She has her flaws, Luna. Oh yes, she has flaws.”
“Very well.” The princess didn’t need much convincing, the book’s pages flipping once more to the final entry. “Lightning Dust. I see exactly what you meant in your letter about her being wonderfully qualified. In the end I have but one concern: when the time comes and she gets the call, will she answer?”
Fine nodded. “She’s racked by doubt and self-pity. She’s dying for a chance to prove herself. If coming to us gives her a chance to do that, I think she’d fly to the depths of Tartarus and back.”
The book closed with a surprisingly loud bang.
“You’ve done well, Fine. I still have my doubts, but this team was practically founded on doubts.” She set the book aside, her expression regal. “I think Celestia did right by suggesting you take on this task.”
He smiled charmingly. “Well I am the Mane Archon.”
She studied him solemnly for several seconds, and for a while her expression was unreadable. At last she shook her head. “Fine, it’s not enough.”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the team’s not finished. I want one more member.”
He face-faulted. “Luna, you were the one who suggested five in the first place. I had to go through over five hundred names to narrow this list down – with minimal help! Don’t tell me you want me to go through it all again just to provide one more team member.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything of the sort,” she replied in a calming tone. “But the team needs something more, because they aren’t a team, not yet. Somepony has to make them one, to get them started. Somepony who knows them.”
He raised his head, a cautious frown on his lips. “If you’re asking what I think you’re asking—”
“I want you to lead the team.”
“—and you said it.” His body went slack from exasperation as he rubbed his face. “Ugh… I can’t believe this. You want me to be the hero?”
“This is not a team of heroes,” she corrected, “and you, Fine Crime, certainly do not fit the description. Considering your history, you might be more like a villain.”
He laughed, for she was refreshingly accurate. “The bad guy leading a team of losers in a hopeless cause that they won’t be recognized for. Geez, it’s like a story in a bad book.” He stared at the ceiling, considering. He did know all the other ponies, in a way. During his investigations he’d been so close to each and every one of them, though they hadn’t realized it.
“I want to be clear that this isn’t an order.”
He sat up straight again, giving her a direct look. “Then what is it?”
Her eyes were hopeful, which was not at all what he’d expected. “It’s a request.”
A request from a friend. She hadn’t said it, but he could tell that was what she meant.
He sighed, bowed his head...and chuckled. “Princess, I told you before that you will be hard-pressed to find somepony more loyal than me. If you tell me to dig, I ask how deep.” He looked at her with a weak smile. “If you want me to lead this little group of misfits, I will. Whether that’s a good idea or not…well, frankly I doubt it.”
She smiled. “As I said, Fine, this team is practically founded on doubts.”
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Well that was awesome.
Unknown Princess eh? Is this in the same universe as Inferno? And I wonder what Luna told Fine..hmm. Also, since you have done 5 parts to this series, I assume you already have a name for the team? If not, I might have a few ideas. Can't wait to see what kind of adventures Fine and his little band of misfits will be getting into!
5526608
The Trixie vs. Equestria universe (of which Twilight's Inferno is a part) is considered itself to be an AU of the No Heroes universe, so no. However, they do share the same ancient history; everything prior to the defeat of discord occurred exactly the same for the two universes. As such, the 'Unknown Princess' Hoofknife speaks of existed in both the TvE and No Heroes universes, but she's not the same Unknown Princess who is so frequently mentioned in TwI and TvE. Confused yet? It only gets more confounding when you throw the Fleur AU in there.
Someday I've got to show a timeline tree to let people see how these universes coincide...
EDIT: Oh, and yes, they do have a name, although it doesn't come up until the very end of Book IV.
So he suffers from murderous impulses which he satisfies by killing criminals. These impulses apparently manifested after he saw his mother die. Sounds like Dexter to me.
A little too edgy for me. I could have sworn I encountered a World of Warcraft guild with this name that was full of angry teenage ninja looters.
I would question the wisdom of bringing a compulsive murderer who's severely late for his monthly kill on a mission where no killing is allowed. They know what he is. You'd think that if he's already several weeks late for his monthly killing they'd strait jacket him and lock him in a cell until they could toss him an acceptable target, not bring him on sensitive missions.
5571049
Eh, I realize 'Dark Archons' was never a great name, which is why I almost never use the full name and just stick to 'Archons' 99% of the time. I couldn't think of anything better at that point and by now the name is so prevalent in my collected stories that it would be too much of a pain to change it even if I had a superior alternative. Oh well.