> Name of a Bullet
>  by Handsome Shadow
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> Beginning of the End
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        Has someone ever wronged you? Ruined your life in a way so complete, you had nothing else to start over? Probably not, but I have. My memory is fire and brimstone and the red smiles grinning in the darkness. A sun, and malevolent, burning tendrils melting flesh from bone. My parents…
        I slid the bolt back, checking the point three-oh-eight hollow points in the silenced rifle. They glistened black in the wet darkness before dawn, a dark promise held by each bullet, a promise of revenge.
        A dark fire burned in my eyes, I slid the bolt home, ratcheting the first round into the chamber and leaned forward in the mud, rain drizzling over the barrel of the rifle, pouring off in rivulets. I took sight through the scope, tinting the world green as the night vision enchantment illuminated the courtyard for my eyes.
        The courtyard was spacious, enough room for thousands of ponies if need be, a podium sat to one side, the wood smooth and oaken. The clearing was rimmed with flowered bushes, colors ranging from bright whites to dark blues, colors so vibrant, they were obvious even in the dark and through night vision. Dozens of ponies lingered about the courtyard, the castle of Canterlot looming above them, the greatest magics in Equestria shielding them from rain and danger.. Safest place in the world.
        I scanned the crowd, knowing that my target wasn’t visible. I analyzed every face. I didn’t know them, and they would never know me, but any threats were marked, and their faces mentally etched to a bullet all their own.
        The one set of large doors beside the podium suddenly swung open, stopping just short of hitting the wall on the outswing. Predictably, every head turned that way, and I followed their line of sight.
        Stepping from the confines of the towering castle, an Alicorn, flanked by four royal guards, identifiable by golden mesh plates covering head, chest, and legs. The Alicorn herself was tall and graceful, head held high, wings spread, and face solemn.
        The Alicorn slowly stepped from the door to the podium, a chill quiet came over the crowd, each one staring at the regal figure, or bowing their head. The air was electric, every face seemed to wait for the voice of an angel, but also afraid of what it might say.
        I spat in the mud, contempt and hatred welling in my soul. I cradled the sniper rifle in my hooves, braced against my shoulder in a prone position, sighting my target.
        The Alicorn began to speak, her voice was regal and booming. It even managed to reach my position in the overhang of rock, 300 feet away. She addressed the large crowd of high society ponies; Her voice gentle, despite the volume.
        “Citizens of Canterlot, we are gathered here today to mourn a great hero, a pony by the name of Star Trot, killed in action protecting Equestria from threats within and without.” She cast a sidelong glance to one of the Royal Guards that flanked her. Together, they lined up, two on each side of the Alicorn at the edge of the podium. Each bore a long trumpet which they now held to their mouths, ready to sound.
        The Alicorn continued, “Star Trot’s sacrifice will not be forgotten, for he reminded us that here in Equestria, we are not as safe as we’d like to believe. He reminded us that heroes still exist in Equestria. He reminded us of all we could be. Together.” As she finished, the four trumpets sounded. A long, mournful note chaining into others, each riding each other higher and higher as the quartet played a crescendo of notes.
        The ponies in the crowd looked solemn, restrained. A few cried into the shoulders of loved ones, the trumpets started to sound notes lower and lower, a diminuendo of noise for the fallen soldier.
        The Alicorn shed tears along with the onlookers, her face a mask of sorrow. She lifted her head high toward the stars as light began to creep on dawn’s horizon.
 I flicked the switch on the scope with a nod of my head, cancelling the night vision. I needed to see this normally. I aligned the center of the crossed lines on the face of the Alicorn. The crosshair rested between her now closed eyes. She wept, and the sky wept with her. I started to pull the trigger, staring with hate into those pale magenta eyes.
I pulled the trigger.
        The Princess lowered her head at the last second, intending to catch a word from one of the attendees. The hollow point soared over her head, mushrooming against the wooden back wall of the podium, carving a chunk out of the oak.
        A nearby guard shouted and ponies screamed, I cursed under my breath and took sight again. The guards began to take formation around the Princess. overlapping each other as best they could, protecting her exposed head with a magical barrier.
        Screw Unicorns, the rifle’s bolt rasped as I pulled it back, ejected the spent casing, and ratcheted another round into the chamber. Taking aim, I sighted the Unicorn to the Princess’ left. A horn shot would be useless, the hardened bone would stand against the hollow points. Luckily, I’ve watched these goons for a while. The rifle whispered as the bullet flew toward a chink in the armor of the Unicorn, where the plate’s met the shoulder, there was a pinprick location of exposed flesh.
        It hit dead on.
        The hollow point mushroomed on impact, tearing and mutilating the flesh of the Unicorn’s shoulder, his eyes widened, and he collapsed, clutching his shredded shoulder. As tough as they were, they were still mortal.
        My target however, is a different question. I racked another round in, and took out the Unicorn on the Princess’ opposite side. With a rapid hoof motion, I put the last round into the chamber.
        My world became stars.
        A midnight blue Pegasus slammed into me from the side. Rolling in the mud, I shook my head to clear the impact. The Pegasus pushed the opportunity, drawing a short, curved blade in his mouth from his barding. Advancing, he swung in a downward arc, trying to gut me.
        I swung the rifle between myself and the blade, catching it in the bolt. Luckily, the steel held and I pushed against the Pegasus. He slid from the force and fell to his side in the mud. Scrambling up as fast as I dare, I grab my rifle in my mouth and gallop away from the guard.
        The early morning city was in panic, though no one else seemed to see my shot, they could all guess why a black mare would be running away from the Canterlot castle. I weaved around lightposts and ponies alike, keeping my feet firmly planted to avoid a slip.
        Behind me, the sound of wingbeats alarmed me, I turned a quick corner to an alley. The buildings on either side obstructed vision, but I didn’t have much time before the Pegasi rounded the corner too. Spotting an access tunnel, I pry open the sewer panel, crawling into the cramped tunnels. Replacing the cover, I didn’t stop, I continued to crawl through maintenance tunnels that ran through Canterlot. I spent a lot of time here, eyes where eyes don’t belong.
        Taking turn after turn, I crawl through the muck created by the torrential rain. The mud in my coat began to harden, but I kept moving, almost desperate to reach safety.
        After what seems forever navigating the tunnels, I finally turn a corner to see a cramped little intersection where the pipelines meet. It offered enough space for some storage, but not much else. Every crate was waterproofed for days like today.
        Setting the rifle down, I sigh. The bolt was mangled and the scope was destroyed, and a new line marked the assembly where the blade bit into it. Not many ponies knew how to make firearms, or how to fix them. It would take a while to fix.
        Setting myself down in a crate of hay, I took stock of tonight’s attempt. Almost had her, if she hadn’t moved…
        I shook my head, no use whining about it, I just have to be careful the next few days. Then find E.
        Memories of the white Alicorn began to resurface, a cold day, a burning fire, a half dozen ponies, and Her. Then E came, saved me. Saved me to kill her.
        Some assassin I am.
        Taking the gun in my hooves again, I caressed the stock. Engraved in it was the name, “Misty” and over two dozen vertical scratches. Practice E called it, it was hard at first, but then it became as easy as breathing, killing. The Princess knew that.
        On the other side of the stock was another name, “Tranxhe” I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn’t help but personalize the weapon. We’ve been through so much together.
        I frowned at the bolt, bent sideways it was no use to me, and E was under enough suspicion right now.
        With a heavy sigh, I threw myself back on the hay. With this failed attempt, The Princess will surely go underground for a while, figuratively speaking of course. It would be months before I would get another chance
        All because of that night…
        I shook my head, I didn’t need to think of it any more right now. Not when I would dream it anyway.
        With a shudder, I closed my eyes.
        Like every night, I saw fire and brimstone, red smiles grinning in the darkness.

> Memoirs of the Catacombs
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        Sleep was a fickle thing in the darkness. Without the light of dawn, how does one truly know if the sun shines? The sun is deadly, it casts it’s gaze on ponies in hopes of revealing them to others, of exposing shadowy secrets. None held more secrets than the sun itself.
        I opened one eye to the darkness, a hoof curled around a knife in the hay. The only sounds the dripping of fetid water and the scratching of rats.
        Relaxing myself, I sat up. Hay did nothing for the back, but I was well conditioned to it. This wasn’t the first time I had to use this hideout.
        I ran a hoof over my dark coat, the rain had done a number on my disguise, the enchanted charcoal wet sticky after the night of rain.
        I set myself to scrubbing the charcoal off my coat, I didn’t need it anymore and at that point it would prove a liability. Using some of the dryer hay, I scoured myself head to hoof. It was difficult to reach the withers, having no such luck as magic, but I made do.
        I set the blackened clump of hay to the floor, it’s usefulness expires, and set about looking for a reflective surface.
        In one crate, sheets and shards of broken glass proved effective as I lay it against one corner.
        The image was one of a mare, striped black and white sporting a closely cropped mane. Several small, but noticeable scars decorated her forelimbs and neck, chipped hooves met the stone floor and her eyes were so blue they were almost black.
        That Zebra was me.
        With a soft sigh, I took Misty up in my hooves, once more examining the bolt and firing mechanism. No pony had spent the time analyzing the killing machines of the Zebra, they never faced the predators of Roam. Thus, fixing the rifle was impossible to a pony.
        E was no pony, he crafted the rifle by hoof, every one of my bullets had the mark of his work. I no longer remember what E stands for, but if the Princess would die, it would be with this weapon. Nothing else could stand against her.
        E was a special Zebra, he was a friend among enemies, and never was there a finer gunsmith. Stashing Misty, chose an access tunnel heading east, I needed to get to E on the outskirts of Canterlot, but carrying Misty would be suspicious. I could break her down, but if I got caught with her I was Diamond Dog food.
        The tunnel was narrow, as all tunnels were, and recent discoveries in magic rendered them close to useless. It was home to rats now, no self respecting pony would live down here so it was the perfect hideout. Close, under their noses.
        The tunnel branched often, snaking it’s way in a veritable labyrinth beneath the timeless city. To a scholar, the tunnels would be seen as an ingenious invention of earth pony technology. The walls coated in slime and muck left much to be desired however. It reminded me too much of the belly of a Korr Toad.
        That was an unpleasant experience. I spent nearly an hour trapped inside the steel-strong stomach. Luckily, the toad’s digestion process was incredibly slow. It was not something I intended to repeat.
        My mind wandered as often as the tunnels. My thoughts turned to the monarch of the sun. Ponies worshipped her as she brought the sun up every day, and until recently, the moon as well. She was renowned as the protector of Equestria, 1000 years ago she banished every evil that threatened Equestria.
        I spent four years studying ancient texts regarding the guardian of the sun, nothing conclusive, the Princess covered her tracks well. But everything pointed to her power coming from an external source. My search lead me to a catacomb beneath the Crystal Empire…

***

        Dusty bones surrounded me as I trekked beneath the earth, countless creatures that sought the dark waited just outside the radius of my torch. Ancient crystal skeletons of ages past gleamed in the darkness, wicked grins twinkling in their eternal slumber.
        I passed through the narrow corridor to come upon a spacious room. The roof was low and gave the impression of being crushed beneath the weight of the earth. 
Approaching the single coffin in the room, I placed the torch in a sconce beside it. With my front hooves, I heaved the lid off the coffin. Inside was a skeleton, obviously a crystal pony by the way it shone in the torchlight. In it’s hooves was a thin book.
        I reached inside for the book, but a golden glow surrounded the bones, and in each eye socket of the crystal skull, a golden flame blazed.
        Noiselessly, it’s bones connected to each other once again, and it rose from the coffin. I stepped back from the guardian.
        “Well, this is new” I muttered, but before I could close in to shatter the skeleton, it shook, the rattling of bones echoing throughout the labyrinth. Jagged edges of crystal sprouted from the bones, leaving every inch a deadly weapon.
        I groaned inwardly, but I advanced. The skeleton met me with inequine strength, flailing about dangerously. I ducked and dodged the strikes, countering with my own precise strikes to the ribcage, skull, and legs. The bones cracked under my blows, but were mended instantaneously in a golden glow.
        The skeletal guardian turned quickly, much quicker than it should be able to, and planted an applebuck firmly against my side. I felt ribs crack under the strike as I fell to my side, gasping for breath.
        The skeleton advanced, a hoof raised, aimed for my skull.
        Just before it struck, I tackled it, edges of crystal lacerating my hide as I pinned it with my body weight. It’s burning eyes gleaming as it gnashed it’s teeth.
        With every struggle it gave, new cuts were slashed into me, quick, shallow wounds that would bleed me dry.
        In a moment of desperate clarity, I rolled to the side, the skeleton on top of me, and bucked it as hard as possible. The skeleton went flying until it crashed against the far wall, bones dislodging from it’s frame.
        The bones hovered and reattached themselves, the powerful enchantment maintaining the guardian. I grabbed a nearby crystal leg bone in my teeth and charged.
        The bone was gag worthy to be sure, but I ignored it as I ducked strikes back from the guardian and bludgeoned the enchanted bones with the heavy bone.
        Damage was swiftly healed, but every break gave me a few seconds where the skeleton was slowed down. Taking an opportunity, I swung the leg toward the skull of the guardian, cracking the enchanted bone.
        It struck back, knocking me on my side again, adrenaline kept me fighting as I stood upright again and searched for my weapon.
        The guardian didn’t wait, it charged and swung it’s forelegs at me, impacting on bones and lacerating flesh.
        Under it’s onslaught, I noticed the crack to it’s skull. It hadn’t healed! I gave a backward roll, the skeleton leapt again, but was met by my hind legs as I kept it at bay. I grabbed another nearby bone, clenching it between my teeth, I kicked upward, sending the animated bones scrabbling.
        Quickly, I rose and bashed it’s skull several times with the crystal bone. Every strike cracked it, revealing a golden glow where a brain should be.
        With a final swing, I shattered the side of the skull and crushed the spell focus buried within.
        The magical feedback knocked me off my hooves, throwing me against the coffin, I heard more ribs break, but was too numb to feel it. Where the skeleton was, a pile of golden dust shone in the slim torchlight.
        I sighed, only to turn it into a grunt when my broken ribs reminded me. I took the book and put it into my saddlebags, there was time to read it again later, but I needed to get medical attention before I bled out.
        Taking up the torch again, I left the catacombs.

***

        “E, I need you to fix Misty.” The elder zebra sighed, then broke into a fit of coughing. I waited silently for him to recover, I knew from experience he would accept no help from others regarding his state.
        When he recovered, he slumped into a chair in his cabin. It was a quaint place, unassuming and close to a forest for his alchemical reagents. It was too exposed for me, too many windows, too many entries.
        “You missed, didn’t you?” His raspy voice was filled with disappointment.
        I bowed my head, “Yes.” What else could I say? “Bent Misty’s bolt when a pegasus guard attacked me. Honestly, I’m surprised that Celestia hasn’t sought Zebra smiths to arm her royal guard. Their current methods seem… Archaic.” He said nothing but closed his eyes. I would’ve thought him dead if not for the slow rising and falling of his chest.
        After a long while, and without opening his eyes he said, “I’ll fix her, but you can’t miss again.” His tone brooked no argument. I sullenly nodded.
        “Bring her by, carefully, and one other suggestion.” I lifted my head to see him staring right into my eyes. “Go for her sister first.”