Shadowbolts: The Hunt for Twilight Sparkle

by Commando-Scarecrow

Ponyville is Weird

He heard a scream and several shouts. He heard the rolling of a cart filled with cabbages. They didn't hear Descent moving like a flash of grey lightning going to intercept.

A grey stallion dashed before two small fillies, whisking them off to safety to safety before the inevitable crash of a cabbage cart struck an empty table outside a bakery.

Close, he thought to himself, satisfied of what he'd just done and mildly annoyed about the guy crying about his cabbages in the background. The blue maned operative then let down the two small foals in arms.

"Are you two alright?" He asked as they both released their grip on his admittedly long mane, concern creeping into his voice just enough to tell.

"Well, you could have been just a bit faster, you know!" The one on the left shouted ungratefully.

His sigh in relief was then replaced by a feeling of irritation at the mouthy one, though he was still pleased they weren't hurt. Although they could have maybe been more careful themselves.

That was when he noticed what they had both looked like. The one on the left was a small earth pony, her coat pink and off mauve mane, her cutie mark a tiara. But it wasn't her that caught his attention, not by a long shot.

The one that grabbed his attention was the filly on the right; a just as small foal with a silver coat and a lighter silver mane, her hair braided and wearing a string of pearls around her tiny neck. He wasn't quite sure, but that smug smirk on her face and her eye-wear made him feel like punching something.

They both took off, but before they were out of ear shot, the small silver one rushed back to him. "Thank you, Sir," she expressed, hugging the covert agent, then rushing off to join her more snide friend.

Descent smiled ever so slightly at that, feeling something similar to joy for the first time in a few days. "It's fine, now go," so they both ran off into the horizon of the town. "And stay out of the streets!" He turned his back, remembering he had a job to do here. "Stupid kids are going to get themselves killed."

He sighed, finally taking in the sights as only an outsider could. As he walked through the small town of Ponyville, he found himself enjoying his new surroundings more and more.

In fact, compared to all the way back to the bad side of Manehatten, where he'd grown up, this town seemed almost akin to a kind of paradise. Granted, having to steal just to get ahead growing up would give near anypony that kind of outlook on life and he knew that, but still, he did have to admit that the scenery was something special.

All in all, he was actually happy where he was at the moment. While he did still have to ultimately answer to Midnight Strike, who probably had less field experience than him, all thing considered, he still pleased to be away from his old mentor, Nightingale. He didn't have to listen to her constant moaning about his lack of empathy or how it was going to come back and bite him eventually. He simply had more operational freedom, which was exactly how he preferred it.

He continued to move unnoticed, as was his special skill, and continued to note the various locals of import. He noticed a pink pony on a sugar high.

Avoiding her, he thought to himself, now more than happy that his special talent was moving unnoticed. He also noticed a pure white unicorn mare with a purple mane, although noticed would be underselling it, but even still, he kept moving.

The town was colorful as well, the walls being coated with all manner of pink, yellow, blue and the shades and tints there of. Again, a very stark contrast to his once home in Manehatten.

To Pyrrhic Descent, it had almost felt like he'd fallen into a comic strip meant for small children, but he dismissed that thought due to the sheer absurdity of it. He was a secret agent, after all, so the odds of him being in a small fillies source for entertainment were far from slim and much closer to none.

As he mused thoughts that hardly mattered, he continues making his way to his own self appointed destination: Sweet Apple Acres, this region's branch of the Apple Trust.

Despite the vice grip the Apple trust was rumored to have on the town, he had to admit that most of the rumors seemed to be proved false, granted, that opinion came from years learning not to trust anypony making more money than he did, but it was a philosophy that had served him well during his young life.

As the spring sun continued to beat down on his grey back, he actually took a little bit of joy knowing where he'd start his part of the investigation. While the mercenary went to go speak with this towns representative and Midnight went to go examine the carriage that Twilight Sparkle used in her cross-country road trip, Descent was presented with the distinct pleasure of sneaking onto an Apple Trust orchard and not getting caught.

A wry smile took his face. "Just like back in Manehatten."

After several long and fairly hot minutes of walking, the the blue maned shadowbolt finally made it to the white picket gates of the conglomerate's orchard. The sweet and sour scent of the apples invaded Descent's nose as he took a good long look at what was in front of him.

There were trees, lots of them. In fact, he was fairly certain that may have been all they grew here. He'd heard about a small fiasco that happened just before Corona came back about this town's rep not wanting the Trust to do the catering, and at the very least, he could agree with not wanting to eat nothing but apples all night.

He didn't even really like apples in the first place.

So he took a deep breath and, while scouting from a safe and secluded distance just outside the farm and ventured forth, ensuring that the three earth ponies, the peach filly, the golden rod young mare and the old green one, living there wouldn't be able to see him.

Like a grey ghost, he moved between each building with stealth that was no less than eerie as the darkest eclipse, sticking to the shadows of each barn he hid behind and ensuring that he left no shadow trailing behind him.

Alright, he began to plan in his head. This is a branch of the Trust, so it's more than likely to have some kind of damage report detailing the ursa attack on the estate for insurance purposes.

As he confirmed his theories to himself, he looked left once, then right, then behind himself and flew up to the room on the dark side of the big, red house with all the stealth expected of an expert burglar.

Years ago, his heart rate would have been out of control, but the years of training had taken away everything but the thrill of breaking into never before seen homes and places.

His hoof steps deft like a mouse, he briefly inquired himself as to exactly why he chose to break into their home instead of simply asking for the information and receiving it like the law dictated. He simply chalked it up to old habits and maneuvered unseen and unheard through the Apple's home.

As he checked room each room for anything indicating an office, he took notice that, save for the fruity smell he was somewhat adverse to, it was actually a fairly normal home, lacking almost any of the frills he would have expected from a well-off family this close to Canterlot.

Disregarding that last thought, he finally found a room with the inherent equipment found in an office for a farming business. The wall paper was green and the bed dressings were a faded red, like the blankets had been used by the family for generations. As he slowly walked in to take a better look, he took notice to two stark contrasts. The floor was strewn with papers and, upon further inspection, he'd seen that these were the insurance papers and damages he was looking for. Then he took a look at the contrasting things on the east wall.

They were photos of a small filly, ranging from age nine to age sixteen, all with a smile beaming pride on her face and with some kind of medal, going from bronze, blue and red. The filly in question actually seemed fairly happy, then he looked down at the numerous papers scattered across the floor of the room and began to wonder for a moment what happened.

"Huh," he began asking himself quietly, now just a little bit sad, feeling a sort of camaraderie with the blonde maned and green eyed mare. "I guess I'm not the only one who had to grow up fast."

He finished looking through the documents and came to the conclusion, based on the damages, that the ursa came from the north-west part of the ever-free forest. This will make that thing a lot easier to find, he admitted to himself.

Finally, gratified with himself and a little saddened as well, he turned around, prepared to leave this farm and go do some preliminary scouting out in a star forsaken forest...

Only to see a giant wall of scarlet muscle standing in his path. Darn it, he thought to himself. I miss-counted. I hate that.

The operative's blood began to flow faster, this kind of situation being all to familiar to the young shadowbolt. In his days as a thief, as much as he hated to admit, he'd run into his fair share of people catching him and having to fight his way out of a situation. He prepared his fighting stance, a cross between boxing and iron hoof, and steeled himself for any attack the massive crimson stallion had to throw at-

"Howdy," the strawberry maned earth pony uttered, his voice extremely deep.

Descent stalled, the greeting entirely catching him off guard and now was caught lowering his own. "Um... hello?" He just stood there, like he was waiting for an explanation. Sweat began to drip from the grey operatives brow. This had actually never happened to him before. Any time he did get caught, he was attacked almost immediately thereafter, and he hadn't gotten caught since before his shadowbolt training over two years ago.

Feeling himself start become slightly ripe from the surprise, he cleared his throat. This guy seemed smarty than he looked. Lets test that theory. "Yes, I'm with the Equestrian Bureau of Wildlife Relocation. I'm here investigating the ursa attack from the other day."

"A member of the EBWR?" He asked.

"Yes."

"In my home?"

"Yes," he parroted.

"Shadowbolt?"

"Ye-," he caught himself, but it was to late. The most he could accomplish now was damage control. "Uh..." Descent's first thought was wondering how the master of the estate knew that. "How do you know that?"

"Figured the princess would send'a team 'ere to check out what happened," his southern drawl was almost invasive from how deep it was. "Though y'all could'a just asked."

"I'm... sorry?" No he wasn't.

"Everfree'll be that way," he pointed with his right hoof to the northwest side of the room.

"Thanks," the agent responded, still finding himself some what jarred by what had just happened.

"It's nothin'," he offered. "Careful 'bout 'em cockatie, though."

"I'll remember that," he lied as he began to leave the house through the same route he took to enter it. "Thanks again."

Leaving Sweet Apple Acres, the young shadowbolt took a moment to reflect on what just happened here. Before he left Sweet Apple Acres, he mumbled one last thing to himself.

"This town is weird."

...

Her eyelids fluttered as she slept, sleeping peacefully in the hired helps hide-away, grateful that his furniture was at least comfortable, although that was not where she was; not really.

Where she really was was back home, years ago, just after her one year in Canterlot, and outside, in the middle a valley strewn with wild fruit trees, the environment peaceful enough to lull a rampaging foal to sleep in an instant. She heard shouting and that's when she began to recognize the day this was.

The place began to change, though at the same time maintaining a foggy habitat, certain details, like the patterns of different wagons, being difficult to discern from lack of focus or caring at the moment. The realization became more and more surreal as the shouting became louder and louder.

Finally, she found herself in her families carriage, watching herself at sixteen and her father go at it over a decision that changed her life.

"I don't care, Dati!" Midnight shouted at her father, her voice echoing in the ears of the rather surreal audience, although she was keeping her voice low enough so that nopony would hear their 'family' discussion. "I'm tired of this! All of this!"

"What is there to be tired of?" He shouted back, angry at his own child's belligerence. She'd been like this ever since they'd moved out of Canterlot. He tried to see what life was in a single, static environment, apart from all of his friends and what may have well been his family among the caravan, but he just didn't like it. "All of your family and friends are among here, Midna!"

"I had friends in Canterlot!" She answered, her rage now mixing in with sadness. "Their was a family there who actually liked me enough to make me a apart of their home!" Tears began to stream down her face. "I had a sister and a boyfriend!" She struggled to say boyfriend, but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Her father, for whatever reason, hated the Equestrian nobility with a passion. "For the first time in years, I was happy somewhere else!"

"Bah!" He brushed her outburst off as a simple female hormonal problem. "They do not know you like the caravan knows you, čhaj." He went back to writing, his grey telekinesis lifting his pencil up from the desk. "You simply need more time to re... what was that word you began to throw around when we lived in Canterlot? Acclimate?"

"No, Dati, I won't!" She shouted, near the top of her lungs. "I... I was offered a position at the University in Fillydelphia!" She knew it wouldn't bring her back to her honorary family, though. "I'm going to become a research analyst!"

"Think of what you will be leaving behind, Midna!" He looked at her dead in the eye, her head arriving only at her shoulder and fighting back the tears, one moment at a time. "Your teacher, Sigurd!" He was talking about that old griffin doctor that joined up with the caravan years ago. "Your mami! Everything in your whole world revolves or has revolved around the vitsa, and you're telling me that you mean to leave just because of some noble marime?!"

She looked down, scourn now bleeding through her eyes, replacing the once escaping tears. "No, I want to leave because I'm tired of moving." She turned around, wings flared for take off as she began towards the intricate, violet hued curtain that separated her families wagon from the outside.

Tears began to stream down her face as she bore witness to the last time she remembered seeing her father, a part of her regretting that she'd left on those terms and another wondering what had brought about this dream in the first place.

"Midnight Strike!" He barked at her, stopping her for only an instant in the hopes that he'd change his mind. "You walk out that curtain and you will be no daughter of mine! You will be a lashav, with no name or family here!"

"Don't," she tried to mutter to her dream self, knowing fully that it was a fruitless gesture.

She turned her head back around to the cloudy fall sky, the cool breeze blowing her mane ever slow slightly as she calmed herself. "So be it, Rom Baro," and so she left, leaving behind a strong gust, scattering her fathers notes and studies as a final 'take that' to the life she was tired-

...

Midnight Strike awoke to three hard knocks on the pine door. Startled, she fell over and off the couch, face first and a set of white blankets covering most of her body. "La naiba!" She let out a curse, her voice muffled and totally in audible to the want to be intruder.

As she gathered her wits to combat the morning, she threw her blankets back on the surprisingly comfortable couch that made up the center of Silver Wings small, but cozy apartment.

Honestly, she hardly believed him when he said that he had safe-houses located at different towns all over the country in case of an emergency. At first after taking him at his word, she asked what would possess him to feel the urge to fund at least a half a dozen stocked apartments all over the nation.

He continued to reply with it 'being a very long and involved story concerning his favorite comic book, a brief stint as a vigilante his psychotic griffin ex-girlfriend'.

Unsure if she should believe him or not, she simply elected to drop the matter entirely.

Her eyes finally half way working, she found herself stopped and in some kind of admiration for a large tapestry hanging on the wall. It took her a moment for it to sink in, but she then realized that must have been the Silver Families personal coat of arms.

Her natural curiosity now fixed upon the wall's drapery, she took a look at the features of it. It was the silhouette of a black wolf, with wings on it's back and talons instead of paws, howling towards the moon on a shield that was checkered silver and a darker shade of blue. On the bottom was writing, script written in old Equestrian. Rubbing the night time sand from her eyes, she struggled to read it, her old Equestrian was slightly rusty, nothing she couldn't work with, but the tapestry being worn the way it was did little to help.

"Per flammas," she began, her ability to read the message on uneven ground. "et something ...-matur."

She struggled for a minute to understand what it meant and may have unlocked the mystery as well, only the knocking became louder and louder, like whoever was on the other side was very quickly losing their patience.

Three knocks repeated again, now souring Midnight's patience. "I'm coming! Stars, will you wait a moment?!"

Finally, she made it to the door, opened to reveal the third member of their merry band of misfits. "Descent?" She asked, immediately covering up her nose with her left wing. "La naiba, that smell!" A reeking aroma of sweat, unknown foliage and several other things assaulted the Romaniegh's nostrils, leaving any kind of mercy at the door. Her hoof moved like lightning to cover up her nose. "What happened to you? You smell like the north end of a south bond goat!"

He let loose a very long glare with his burning yellow eyes, filled with about as much disdain as he could muster, which, given how tired he was, was evidently quite a lot.

"Look," I was up all night looking for the ursa cave," he began, rage seething from his voice. Really, it was one of the first genuine displays of emotion she'd seen him display. She would have declared it a breath of fresh air, only, well...

"I was chased by a very hacked off and scared dragon, I fell into a nest of skunks, I had to beat up a cockatuce..." he took a deep breath. "TO MAKE IT STOP TRYING TO TURN ME INTO A LAWN ORNAMENT, and to top it all off, I smell like a minotaur's guest bathroom."

"Do you feel any better now?" Midnight inquired, not wanted this conversation to go on any longer thanks to the stink, but electing to be polite simply out of preference.

"Yes, thank you." He lowered his voice, throwing a large burlap sack of tomato soup cans on the wooden floors. "It took me two hours to find this place," he began again, only weakly, the long night having taken it's toll on the young stallion. "I'm taking a long bath, eating, then sleeping," he walked passed Midnight and into the apartment it's self, tracking in all many of fauna and dirt found in the Ever-free. "We're leaving in four hours."

"Um..." she just let go all the insubordination he'd just thrown her way, knowing he'd had a hard night. "Alright?"

He then turned his head as he walked through the safe house, seeing a couch with ruffled up blankets, pointing directly to where Midnight Strike was standing. "Did you sleep on the couch?"

The smoky, grey mare rubbed her eyes, still trying to get all the sand out of them. "Yeah," she began. "Silver tried to show himself a 'gentlecolt' and sleep on the couch instead of me, bum arm and all, so I forced him on the bed," and then she realized the colossal, verbal mistake she'd just made, noticing a tell-tale smirk of her fellow operatives face. "And that came out something horrible, didn't it?"

He smiled for an instant, then brushed off the verbal misstep as if it were nothing. "Don't care. I'm taking that bath now. Where is the mercenary anyway?"

"Yo!" He shouted, announcing his presence to his team mates. "And it's freelancer! I've been up for the past few hours, passed by a bakery on the way back, got us some muffins and donuts and whatno-..." He paused for a moment, set the baked delights on the floor and then proceeded covered his nose and mouth. "What, in Luna's luscious Equestria, is that smell?"

Midna let out a light chuckle, trying to hide it from under her wing. "Nothing. We're leaving here in four hours."

...

The Ever-free forest was very hot and very muggy. It was the kind of day a mail pony would take a sick day on, despite any oath given, or a kid would try to hide from school from and, as Midnight walked next to her partner and the freelancer, she realized that would not blame either case in the slightest.

A choking fog enveloped the area, making the young mare feel somewhat uneasy. She took a deep breath and continued leading the way, knowing she was made in charge of this assignment for a reason.

As she continued to move, she saw several plants and animals she'd honestly thought she'd never see while stationed in the shadowbolt archives. In fact, she;d nearly fallen into poison joke twice, and if not for her fast thinking, well, she chose not to consider which part of her body would become nothing more than a cruel representation of what she held the most pride in.

The young noble, Silver Wing, let out a very long yawn before choosing to walk on the forest floor, broken arm and all. He landed next to Midnight Strike, his near grey coat almost blending in with the natural white fog and haze surrounding the team.

"Are you alright?" Midnight finally asked as he began to lag behind somewhat.

"I'm fine," he answered back, his voice somewhat monotone. "Just tired. I'm not used to working with a team. It's kind'a throwing me off."

"You aren't use to working with other oemeni?" She pressed, hoping for some kind of explanation.

He shook his head, more of the damp, warm air matting to his fur. "No, not since New Maredri- wait," he stopped for a moment. "What's an 'oemeni'?"

She smiled, a cool fall breeze brushing past her back. "It's a Romaneigh word," she began to explain, their merry band of misfits continually walking towards their destination. "It means 'clan of many nations'. For as long as we can remember, ever since our home land of gradina pereți was burnt to the ground, we've been a tribe of mismatched... beings, so it only seems right for our culture would have a word for it."

"Uh huh..." the weary stallion began to digest what she'd said, taking it in word for word. "I get it. It's like your province or something."

"Well, I don't know if it's as clear cut as all that, but-"

"We're here," Descent responded, happy that their conversation was at an end. There all three of them stood, in front of a very large cave, right in the middle of the Ever-Free forest. "Finally."

...

"Eeyup," the silver stallion began as he started a gaping stone maw within the ever free, small bags formed under his eyes. "That's a cave," he pointed.

"Thank you, Star Swirl the Bearded," Midnight proceeded to snark.

"Pleasure's all mine, Clover the Clever," he replied back, her disingenuous assertion barely registering on his sonar.

"Are you totally immune to sarcasm?" She bit back.

"Only the sarcasm of painfully cute and exotic mares," he then proceeded to wink at her, the smoky mare frankly just stunned and not really sure how to react to what just happened.

"Will you two stop?" Descent cut in, by now being the only one paying attention to the situation at hoof. "We need to figure out how we're going to do this."

"Well," the brown eyed pegasus began. "Ursa's are usually fiercely territorial, so if we want an imprint of Twilight Sparkle's magic to track her by, we should only send in one of us, with the others staying behind."

That caused Silver's eyes to widen. Without either of them noticing, he looked over both of them, seeing that they were both thinking about who should be the one that has to go in the dark cavern.

His two accomplices continued to just stared at him, wondering why he was suddenly so calm with eyes so dilated, like he was purposefully keeping his mouth shut for the first time sense this mission began. The young noble looked at both of them, irritation creeping into what had once been a rather jovial, if not somewhat exhausted, mood. "What?"

"We're kind of waiting..." Midnight began, not being totally clear on what they were waiting for.

"For?"

"It's just," the mare blended in with the shadows provided, courtesy of the Ever-free, and looked into the darkness of the cave as she spoke. "This kind of thing seems right up your ally."

"Taking on an ursa in a cave seems up my ally?" He gave her a confused and annoyed look.

"Yes?"

"I..." he thought about it for a moment, then conceited the point. "Okay, yeah, I guess it does, but still," he paused, looking into the cave with an increasingly visible sense of anxiety. "I'd prefer it not be me that goes in there. I'm not a fan of going into places I can't see in or can't get out of."

Descent just stared at him, now satisfied that he could get a few good licks in after everything that happened the other day. "It sounds to me that your claustrophobic."

"I am claustrophobic," he shot a glare that seemed out of character for him, or at least given how long Midna had known the silver stallion. "Is that a problem, Descent? Does that annoy you?"

The two just stared at each other for what seemed like hours, though in truth it was only maybe ten seconds. It was still more awkward than the smoky mare liked, though.

"Alright, enough you two," she broke the tension, thick enough to serve on a sandwich and call a full meal. "First off, it's 'spelunkaphobia'. Get it right. Second," she looked to her partner in this mission. "Descent, you have the greatest chance of getting in there without being noticed. And what with all the other animals in the Ever-free that you so eloquently mentioned earlier today, I think it may be best if I stayed here to make sure they didn't eat the mercenary."

"Freelancer," Silver cut in.

"Shut up," she ignored. She threw her bag down and took out a small rock, adorned with very old styled runes and inscriptions. "Here's the null magic stone. If the report is accurate, then the ursa should have a sizable imprint of Twilight's magic still yet."

"Fine," he made an abrupt snatch of the anti-magical rock and then turned, heading into the darkness that held a star beast. He took a deep breath and then a long walk. "I bucking hate this job."

...

He simply walked into the den of the great star beast, making sure each and every hoof step was quiet as a leaf in a hurricane. It was a skills he'd long since honed while training to be a shadowbolt and, indeed, seemed to be as natural an extension of himself as his own two wings.

He continued to move with wraith like stealth, he took a moment to admire the null-magic stone, taking it out with his wing and gazing upon it's gentle green glow. Linguistic skills or anthropology had never been his strong suit. In fact, he had only a passing knowledge of Cabalerian and that was it, but even he could tell that it took a great deal of magic to to craft this thing. An even more admirable trait given that it's purpose was intended to shut down magic.

The logic of how that was even possible nearly made his head spin, so he continued onward, hoping to end this day with less injuries or complications than he began it with.

He forged ahead into the darkness of the cave and began to view it with some of the same fear he'd seen take the mercenary. It was dark, the only vague traces of light hailing from alchemical stone in his saddle bags and what must have been the bio-luminescence of the ursa's off in the distance. It was also damp, fitting the chilled time of year exactly, evident by the cooled puddles that Decent had accidentally waded into upon entering the long caverns only a minute ago prior.

As he moved further and further into the cave dwelling of the star beast and it's mother, he took note of his heart racing as the brightness increased. He now understood why Silver had been so hesitant to enter this cave in the first place. The contrast of the deep, dark and penetrating darkness and the shining body, woven from the night sky itself, of a beast that could tear him a sunder without a second thought began to pervade the young operatives mind. The comparison between the two just did not seem natural to the stallion.

But, even as trepidation began to pervade his being, he moved ever onward, knowing what was at stake should he fail here and his accomplice and the hired help never obtain the rogue Twilight's magical imprint.

He took a deep a breath as he began to hear the faint sound of flapping and squeaking. He looked up and swore under his breath. "Well buck my life," he requested, gazing upon a never ending cloud of bats.

...

She looked at the silver noble, leaning up against a tall ever-free oak, his eyes closed and limb broken, basking in the light filtered from the branches up high, loosing their leaves to the time where Equestria began to rest itself for the Spring and Summer seasons.

She took an especially long look at his face, once jovial, now serious as he appeared to slumber. His countenance seemed as though he was a far cry from the witless fool he portrayed himself. Indeed, it almost seemed as if that was his-

"You're starring," he announced to her mid thought, his dead-serious expression morphing into one of amusement, his blue eyes still closed, and the high noon sun beaming straight upon his face from one of the few places the branches from on high didn't cover.

"How did you-"

"Because it was too quiet," he cut her off, answering her question before she'd even finished. "And you seem the type to avoid awkward silences, judging by how many questions you like to ask or how much you like explaining things." He then opened his blue eyes and turned his head towards her. "So what's up?"

"I, um..." she was actually some what embarrassed by the way he'd caught her eying him up. It wasn't out of attraction. More so it was about the way he carried himself and how he acted this time of day meant nothing to him. Through out her training, one thing remained consistent in every candidate she'd seen: even with the conditioning, they were all at least somewhat unnerved by the sun at high noon.

But not this stallion. The way he moved and acted, it was as if the warmth of the day was truly his natural element. Perhaps that's why he left the shadowbolts, because he hated the shadows, she mused to herself, still not coming up with something to ask. "It's just, you seem so calm under the sun..."

"Right," he smiled in acknowledgement, sitting up from the tree and grimacing from the cracked ribs. "What about it?"

"Well," she began, knowing about where to start. "You don't really show any anxiety around noon, like most ponies. Even among the oameni, everyone from ponies and cows to griffins tried to rest midday , ' she paused for a moment to catch a breath. ", But, naiba, you seem totally at ease."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"But not only that," she continued. "Earlier, you called Corona her name from before her fall, 'Celestia'," she looked at him with greater concern. "Why?"

He raised both eyebrows now, then took back to laying against the oak at his back. "Call it a quirky philosophical view point," he opened his eyes, gazing at the light beaming down upon his face. "The Princess renaming her sister was an act of guilt, nothing more." He looked back to his retainer, then once more at the sky, his voice taking a more somber tone. "What Corona did was bucked up, don't get me wrong but," he took a long pause, like this view point was much more personal than anything your average idle commentator would have. "But her majesty is lying to herself if she thinks the pony her sister was once was gone for good," his gaze at the beams of the summer sun poking through the canopy became more vacant, like his mind was briefly leaving the area. "It's a disservice to the alicorn that helped led pony kind out of the muck."

"Some would say that by renaming her sister, the Princess was shielding the memory of the good Celestia did while damning the ill of Corona," Midnight argued back.

"Maybe," he began to take out a toothpick from his saddle bag, a nervous twitch, Midnight was sure, but nothing worrying.

"Those sound like like a much deeper philosophies than what would be expected from a mere mercenary, Silver," she argued.

"Please" he looked back to her. "I'm anything but a mere mercenary," his expression picked back up. "I'm a freelancer. And you have to remember, I am the heir of the late, great Baron Silver Bolt XII, so a high quality education would have been thrown into that package," a smug smirk then crept onto his face. "And then there's the whole thing with me once being the 'paragon of the shadowbolts'."

She could tell from his face that he loved saying that, although she wasn't quite sure whether or not it was out of pride for his supposed former position or because he just liked saying the word 'paragon'. "But now you're a rogue freelancer."

His smile grew wider, now showing just a little bit of teeth. "I'd prefer to call myself a dashing gentlecolt of fortune, out there fighting for the right. A single agent of justice out in a cold, cruel world," he let out a small chuckle. "A 'para-gone-rogue', if you will."

"Now you're just making fun of me," she let out a small laugh herself.

"Only a little bit," he smiled back, returning the laughter.

Silence fell upon the two for a few seconds before Midna opened up again. "You know, Descent's been in there for quite a while..."

"Nah," he shot down nonchalantly. "He can handle himself. "Guy's probably having the time of his life."

...

I bucking hate today, he thought to himself, angrier than maybe even Corona after freeing herself from the sun those months ago. Surprisingly, that had been happening a lot ever since he'd started this mission with the noble and the Romaneigh.

Slowly but surely, he moved like a grim reaper, silent and unnoticed, through the great cavern, carefully inching himself as cautiously as he could so as not to disturb the huge cloud of bats atop the ceiling and stalactites above him. He knew that even the slightest noise could alert the winged rodents and, in turn, alert the giant star beast awaiting at the far end of the tunnel.

If I knew what today would be like, he mused to himself, a cocktail of rage and fear mixing and filling every corner of his mind. Then I wouldn't have signed up for this stupid plot mission mission.

But he did, so instead of complaining further, he steeled himself like the mighty girders that made up the Manehatten skyline and forged ahead, content at the very least in the fact that this was something that mercenary couldn't do in a million life times.

He moved closer and closer, the light of the ursa's glowing brighter and fear now being the primary ingredient in the emotional martini within his mind.

Finally, he made it: he was in the very pit of the ursa's home. Their bright light was near blinding to him as the many shades of blue and silver flooded his eyes and mind with further trepidation, feeling even his resolve of tempered steel begin to bend as a result.

"Holy buck," he whispered, forgetting for an instant exactly where he was. His eyes went wide open, then back to normal as he realized it hadn't been loud enough to awaken the small, fury inhabitants of the den.

He gulped, wishing himself good luck, and then took to the air with all the speed of a paraplegic humming bird.

Funny, he began to think to himself with no small level of scorn in his voice. All those times those recruiters called me a ghost or a wraith during training, and here I am, about to become one.

Like a moth to a lantern, he hovered ever closer to the star spangled monster, carefully with the null-magic stone in hoof, the only thing capable of efficiently tracking a rogue, teleport happy unicorn and shutting down her magic at the same time. Almost there, he chanted, almost done, almost won.

Finally, face to face with the ursa minor and grateful that it's mother's hearing was no better, he moved the stone just before it's enormous head and watched as gentle green glow of the null-magic stone, an artifact crafted from the greatest alchemists in Equestria, became adorned with an equally soft lavender hue, a series of stars appearing as the central symbol of the stone.

The ursa was still asleep and, with that, Descent left the cave, joy, relief, and fear now mixed into a new emotional cocktail for him to enjoy as soon as he was out of the star forsaken place.

For the first time all day, the ex-burglar smiled. Maybe there was a little pride swimming around in there as well.

END OF PART ONE

Author's Note:

I enjoyed writing the chapter. I finally got to work on Descent's and Midnight's character in depth, which was fun. Sorry I took so long, by the way. The next one is already on it's way, though.

One does not simply walk into an Ursa save

Except for Descent, who simply walked into an ursa cave

Comments

[DreadedCandiru2]

Ah. There's one who thinks ahead and sees what Luna and most of ponykind does not. He sees that one day, Corona will be vanquished and that Celestia will be restored. Too bad that he doesn't see that even if she doesn't conquer Equestria, she'll still reshape it by her very presence.

[Walabio]

Somehow, I missed the update. Wonky notifications are the enemy of all authors.

[Walabio]

Now that I read this chapter, you made a mistake:

Bats are in the order Chiroptera ——— not rodents.

[GrassAndClouds2]

You should update this. :-) It's a good story!

[evileric]

"You're a claustrophobic!"
"You want a hoof in the mouth? I've never even looked at another colt before!"