Limits of the Horizon

by Beware The Carpenter

24 - The Price of Treason

Shining Armor wore black. His cloak’s enchanted fibers hung loosely around him, hiding even the silhouette of a pony, yet the bulky rag-like cloak never snagged, swayed in the wind or made a sound. Beneath it was a light, fibrous chain mail, that wouldn't rattle; commonly used by gilt-edged assassins.

Anything pertaining to identification, or Equestria, was gone and fake cutie-marks had been pasted over his flanks with enough precision to have a chance of fooling a post-mortem autopsy, in the event he was killed and his body needed to be left behind. Around him; six other Sun Guards were clad similar to himself.

His horn had nearly split during his battle with Obtrillion earlier that day. The medics had sealed it together as best they could, but it was fragile; and channeling too much magic could damage or destroy it completely. How much magic was ‘too much’ remained unknown; but there would be enough to rescue Twily and end a menace that had haunted him for almost two decades.

There had to be.

Looming over him, was a large warehouse whose teleport resilient walls, sixteen watch-towers and bolted steel gates accomplished more than just deter would-be robbers; but made a statement about the prestige and wealth of the four houses that stored their market wares there. It was also where Obtrillion was hiding.

Swift Kick was dead, Spike was missing, and a street vendor had seen a dragon leave with a black colt and purple mare. Spike would never have gone with Obtrillion willingly; but he could have gone if he was forced to, and he might have gone as a spy. Whether intentional or not, Spike had led Shining Armor to Obtrillion’s hideout through the micro-chip that had been imbedded in his tail when he was hatched at Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns. A few hours of tinkering with their cocients, and the Sun Guard had locked onto Spike’s signal.

An hour of tracing the perimeter, and measuring the strength of Spike’s frequency from different angles; implied a large open lounge, or office, in the center of an otherwise crowded warehouse. A place this size certainly had night guards, and there was no way they could have missed a ten-foot dragon sleeping in their lounge meaning they were in league with Obtrillion; and were to be treated as hostile.

There were four entrances to the fortified warehouse, and four teams of Sun Guards were ready to breach the doors, while two more squads would block escape routes or interference. Once they hit, it would only be a matter of minutes before the city guard appeared; so they needed to strike fast, and then get out of there without leaving incriminating evidence.

The charges were set, the teams were arranged; the time had come.

Four gates to the warehouse blasted open simultaneously and four squads of Equestria’s best stormed the warehouse. Shining Armor galloped past dozens of rows of heavy iron shelves, laden with imported woodwork, dyes, wines, perfumes and scrolls worth thousands of rupees a piece. Aegis and Marrow Slice passed behind him, checking off the empty alleys as they went, with Pin Drop flying close above, crossbow ready to put a bolt through the first target that presented itself.

The wooden door that separated Shining Armor from Spike shattered at the touch of his telekinesis, and the weaponized shards flew in like darts, embedding themselves into the zebra security force inside. Pricks of light gleamed from the defender’s weapons. Second squad broke through the opposite door. Pin Drop shot a bolt tipped in powerful paralyses venom into the foremost zebra and Shining Armor readied his next spell; but nothing inside moved.

There… were zebras inside; but they were already dead. The pegasi hung from the ceiling from ropes; bows and lances tied to their hooves in mock battle readiness, while the earthbound guards had stools under them to keep them standing and their manes tied to their armor to keep their heads raised. They were a distraction, meant to hold Shining Armor’s attention for a few precious seconds from the vat of bubbling liquid in the middle of the room, and the barrel that had been suspended over it which began dropping as soon as the first door opened.

Shining Armor tried to catch the barrel, but it shattered upon contact with his telekinesis; spilling into the exploding vat beneath and unleashing a deluge of burning plasma. A shield appeared over Shining Armor, and the two guards standing immediately on either side of him in the same second the fire hit; but for those caught outside it was too late.

Shelves toppled like dominoes out from the center; woodworks and scrolls burned in seconds; wine bottles exploded, adding to the fury; and the screams of his soldiers echoed through Shining Armor’s mind. When the initial blast had passed, Shining Armor passed control of the smaller shield to Aegis and then generated a second shield, touching almost to the warehouse walls which deprived the fires of fresh oxygen, held it for ten seconds and then let go.

Putrid smoke hung heavy, whimpers of pain were everywhere and the warehouse had been gutted. About half of the Sun Guards who had gone in were alive, protected individually or in small groups by energy shields; maybe a quarter of them were dead, and the rest were suspended in between; withering in agony with lungs too burnt to even cry out.

Obtrillion wasn’t here, the town guard soon would be; and even determining who was alive might take longer than the precious minutes that they had. Aegis knelt beside a deformed pegasus, whose wings had been burnt to the bone, and began working a spell to dull the agony; and Shining Armor followed suit, fighting the sinking feeling in his gut that the bomb hadn’t been intended to kill.

Within a few minutes, almost everyone who’d survived unhurt had been saddled with a partner who was most likely alive. Shining Armor shouldered who he thought might be Marrow, and made it about five steps before nearly tripping on something squishy. Instinctively he kicked the offending object away, and then froze when he realized what it had been. Two and a half feet of burnt flesh wrapped in purple scales.

Spike’s tail.

“Twily;” he whispered, “What have you done?”

Author's Note:

Apologies for the lateness.

This is the end of Limits of the Horizons. It's sequel, Limits of Mercy, will be available tomorrow; along with a new satellite story which pole-vaulted past my word count expectations, has triggered several satellites of it's own and is surprisingly relevant to the wider story.

Be prepared for strange.

Comments

[the other sans]

and four teams Sun Guards were ready
Four gates to the warehouse blasted open at simultaneously

1. And four teams of sun guards were ready.
2. Extra At.

Ahh yes, that satellite story... Strange indeed, right after this.