> Batmare Begins > by Silver Tongue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Catalyst > --------------------------------------------------------------------------          Various ponies filled up every seat in the spacious concert hall. Bodies brushes against each other with the occasional shiver as they shifted in their seats. The darkness obscured the audience as the stage was flooded with bright lights, showcasing the young fillies and colts whose instruments filled the air with a joyful and complex melody. A pair of earth ponies sat quietly with a proud smile on both their faces as they watched in awe. One, a large stallion, adjusted his suit lapels as they stuck uncomfortably to his golden coat. His hoof brushed against a silver pin in the shape of a caduceus, an exact replica of the mark on his flank. He moved a stray lock of fiery red hair that obstructed his vision in an effort to see a particular filly more clearly. Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help the grin from growing wider on his face as he saw his wife’s violet eyes intensely focused on the show before them. He always counted his lucky stars whenever he thought about how such a mare would ever marry him. Green eyes trailed over the silvery grey of her coat, the raven mane flowing down her neck in elegant waves, the blue trio of six pointed stars on her flank, then back up to see the happy glimmer in her purple eyes. Placing his hoof over hers, he sighed in contentment as he felt her hoof wrap around his. Watching the stage, his ears twitched as they took in every note. When the music died down, he resisted every urge to just jump up and clap enthusiastically in response. Instead, he beamed with joy as he politely clapped at his daughter’s very first recital at the Monarch Concert Hall. Life was good. ~~~ “Octavia? Do you need help carrying your cello?” the tall earth pony asked his daughter as her legs quivered and struggled to lift the heavy cello case. “No thanks. I’ve got it,” she said with a grunt of effort. He ran a hoof through his red mane as he watched his daughter try and lift up the cumbersome case. Discreetly snaking his crimson tail behind the little filly, he pushed the case securely onto her back. There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as she teetered slightly from the sudden weight. Looking up, he grinned at the mare that was helping steady the wobbly filly with an airy chuckle.The filly blew black strands away from her face, and then grinned up at her mother in gratitude. He smiled at the mirror image of mother and daughter. She had taken after her mother in so many ways, from her grey coat, to her black mane and violet eyes. Both were absolutely beautiful in his eyes, and his heart filled with warmth as mother and daughter talked quietly with each other. He couldn’t be any prouder of his family. “That performance was simply amazing, Octavia!” The elder mare said with barely contained enthusiasm. Her smile grew wider as a small blush was faintly visible across her daughter’s snout. Her small hoof rose in a futile attempt to cover her growing embarrassment.         “Mom… Stop it… It wasn’t really all that good. It’s only a recital, and you could hardly hear me anyway…” Her mother snorted in objection.         “Of course it was good! It was great! Fantastic even! There’s a reason why your cutie mark is what it is. Your music is amazing, and you yourself are amazing. My little filly, already playing music in front of an audience. I’m so proud!”         Octavia gave small squeals of protest as her mother wrapped her hooves around her neck and showed her earth pony strength in the form of a hug. Her hold never faltered until she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Turning around, oblivious to Octavia’s alarmingly purple face, she was met with amused emerald eyes.         “Wanda dear, it’s getting rather late, and I’d prefer it if our daughter makes it home alive,” he mentioned while gesturing to Octavia’s oxygen deprived face. Looking down, she released her daughter as her face had taken on a dangerously purple tone. She heard her husband chuckle as Octavia dramatically took in deep breaths of air.         “You might just be right… Well, it looks like it’s time to go, Octavia. The sooner we get home, the sooner I can hug your cute, filly self again,” she spoke with a cheery tone as she adjusted the pearl necklace, an anniversary gift from her dear Thom, until it was properly situated on her neck. Turning to face her husband, she nodded her head to show that she was ready to leave.         Turning towards Octavia, he waited until she caught her breath before walking to the door. Making sure his family was behind him, he opened the door and welcomed the cool, night air. It was a refreshing contrast to the warmth the Hall had left in its wake. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to breathe in the crisp air, failing to notice his family observing his temperature induced bliss.         Opening his eyes, he took in the sight of his daughter giggling, and his wife struggling to conceal soft laughter. He blinked before rolling his eyes and resumed walking into the dim alley. His head shook at the muffled joy of the two crazy mares behind him.         His body heaved with a defeated sigh.         It wasn’t until he heard the clopping of hooves on the stony floor did he turn in curiosity. His eyes widened at the sight before him.         A dark purple stallion with a blue streaked mane stood before him. His deranged orange eyes stared him down. It wasn't until he heard a muffled yell did he realize the dire situation he was in. Among the disheveled mane, was a horn. A horn that was currently glowing in orange magic. Orange magic that had his wife and daughter gagged and floating in the air. Trying to step towards them, his snout was greeted by a large, jagged edge of glass.         Heart breaking at the terrified expressions on his family's faces, he slowly turned and glowered at the pony before calmly speaking. "What do you want? Is it money? If it is, you can have it, just let them go." Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a sack of bits, and tossed it towards the unknown pony. "See, you can take it. Just don't hurt them." He expected the pony to grab the bits and go, but was shocked as his wife was tossed to the side with a scream. Glass sliced along his cheek as he gave chase in an attempt to catch her. Time slowed as he heard the sickening sound of bones breaking whens she painfully crashed against the hard concrete of a building with a gasp before falling onto a pile of discarded shrapnel. Dashing towards her, he carefully dug her out and tried to help her stand, but instead reared back at the sight of red liquid on his hooves. No. No. Nonono... He carefully moved her to look for the source of the blood. His face twisted into a grimace as light reflected off the pieces of glass embedded in her side. His stomach almost emptied itself at the sight of a large chunk of wood penetrating her grey coat. Tears rolled down his cheeks at the realization that she was no longer breathing. Falling to his rump, his heart poured itself into a yell that penetrated the still air in anger and grief. He sat there, motionless, for what seemed like hours until he heard the sound of hooves on the concrete behind him. Octavia! Stupid! How could I forget! Emerald eyes flashed in anger as he shot up to his hooves and turned to look at the fleeing culprit. All he could see was a moving shape, but the small, twisting shadow among orange magic was all the confirmation he needed. That was where his target was, and he needed to be positive that the small shadow was under his protection once again.         Here comes Thom!         Bowing his golden head, he charged with all his might. Everything seemed to blur around him as he moved faster and faster towards his target. Soon enough, he felt himself harshly collide with the purple unicorn, sending them both to the ground. He ignored the pain shooting up his back as he scrambled to his hooves and looked up, following the sound of a high-pitched scream of terror. His pupils dilated as they saw the small shadow falling through the air. Forcing his body to move, he began to panic as he saw her fall quicker than he could run.  Crouching low to the ground, he used every bit of his superior, earth pony strength in a last ditch effort to catch his precious bundle. There were no sounds but the ringing in his ears. The second he felt soft fur touch his forearms, he curled them into himself, twisted his body, and grunted as his ribs crashed against the hard concrete, protecting his bundle from harm.         Ignoring his crying body, he relaxed and let out a sigh of relief as he saw Octavia clinging to him for dear life. She was shaking, and by the wetness on his coat, she was crying as well. But she was fine. Scared, but fine.         As he slowly stood, he carefully pulled her into a hug and ran a hoof through her black hair as tears dripped onto her gray fur.         Thank Celestia that I saved her. Octavia is still here. Octavia is still here...         He buried his muzzle into her hair when he felt her fierce hug in return. He had his little filly. All was right again.         It wasn’t until he tensed and coughed up blood that they realized they weren’t in the clear just yet. Looking up, Octavia saw that her father was staring blankly into space, and blood was dripping out of his mouth, mingling with the small trail of blood from his cheek.         She opened her mouth to speak, but found she couldn’t make a sound. Looking over his shoulder, her violet eyes widened at the sight of the purple unicorn slowly approach them with a glowing horn, slowly removing a large, red-stained shard of glass out of her father’s back. Her heart pounded with fear as orange eyes flashed dangerously. Feeling that she couldn’t move, she just buried herself deeper into her father’s golden coat.         She began to sob into his fur in fear of the unicorn. Her mom was gone, and now her strong dad was bleeding and not moving. Unsure of what to do, violet eyes clenched shut as the unicorn was dangerously close, and expected the worst.         But the worst never came.         Confused, she felt a strong body reposition itself over her small form. Her eyes opened when she heard the sickening crack of breaking bone. Looking up, she saw that her father was standing above her, lowering his back legs from recently bucking a flying, purple unicorn. He was still tense even though the culprit lay prone against a nearby wall where he landed. Lifting her head to thank him, she paused as she noticed his eyes were dim. She was silent when he opened his mouth to speak.         “I love you. Your mother loves you. Don’t ever…forget that. Don’t…ever lose yourself…because of this….”         Tears streamed down her face as she could only watch him rasp and wheezed while swaying unsteadily before finally collapsing on his side, careful not to collapse on top of her.         “D-dad…”         He didn’t respond; her throat choked up.         “Dad! Answer me!”         Large, dull green eyes stared back.         “P-please…”         Shakily making her way over to him, she raised her little hooves against his strong chest, and began to shake him in desperation. Her ears flattened against her skull at the soft cracking of bone.         “Don’t leave dad! Say something! P-please…”         Dropping down, she nudged against his large hoof with her forehead a strangled sob.         “Please…” ~~~         Beep.         Beep.         Beep.         A pair of gray eyelids cracked open, blearily taking in their surroundings.         White.         There was white everywhere. She was also on some sort of bed.         It wasn’t very comfortable.         With a groan, Octavia tried to sit up, but instead felt a tug on her hoof. Lifting up the hoof so that she could inspect it, she couldn’t help but stare stare at the thin, clear tube sticking out of her arm. Violet eyes followed it upwards until it stopped at the bottom of a bag filled with clear fluid.         This looks like where dad works. And that’s an… what was it… Ah! An IV! So that means… I’m in the hospital… Mom! Dad!         Octavia shot up at the realization as the events came pouring out into the front of her mind. Frantically looking around, she saw the button that her father told her about. Pressing the button repeatedly, she was soon greeted by a green, yellow-maned, unicorn.         “Oh! I see that you’re up. That means you’re recovering. Excellent!”         Her brow crinkled in confusion at the happy unicorn that had started writing things down on a clipboard as he stared at the machines around her. He paused and looked back at her, momentarily wondering why she so quiet. After a few seconds, he shifted uncomfortably in place.         “That’s right... You were unconscious when you arrived. I’m Dr. Care Giver. Your guardian will be notified that you’re awake. He should be here soon...”         Watching the doctor leave the room, her confusion only grew. With a sigh, she lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.         More white. ~~~         After what felt like hours of staring at the incredibly boring ceiling, the sound of an opening door reached her ears.         Turning to look at the guest, her face curled into a smile at the brown earth pony standing in the doorway. Her eyes took in the pristine tailcoat obscuring his cutie mark and immaculate, white mane.         “I see you are doing well, Miss Octavia. That is indeed fortunate. I can’t say the same of your parents however. Such a tragedy...”         Her nose scrunched up in confusion.         “What do you mean, Mister Silvermane?”         She watched him blink, and a sense of dread filled her being.         “I see you haven’t been informed. Your parents are no longer with us, Miss Octavia. They didn’t survive the encounter with the brute that assaulted you. The Master put up quite the fight according the police reports, but unfortunately, The Master and Mistress both suffered injuries too great to survive.”         Her throat closed up. It was a familiar, yet unwelcome, feeling.         “What exactly do you mean?”         She didn’t like the sigh that came out of his mouth.         “The Mistress suffered incredible blood loss, as well as various internal injuries from a rather large piece of wood embedded in her side from the impact. Master Mayne suffered a fatal injury as well. They found bits of glass embedded in a deep wound on his back, many shattered ribs, along with various scrapes and bruises. It seemed that the original glass piece punctured one of his lungs and left him unable to breathe. He might have survived as he is a hardy pony, but with his ribcage collapsed in such a manner, not even he could keep his body going long enough for medical attention. You were found unconscious next to him. You were a bit scuffed up, but relatively fine. They also apprehended the unicorn responsible. He was found unconscious with a broken jaw.” She looked down, hooves gripping the sheets. “Oh…” “There was also the matter of your inheritance. As you know, Mayne Tower was run by your father, but because of his current status, it will be placed under the management of a specific group of ponies that your father trusted until you become old enough to run the company yourself. It shall continue in its production of technological advances, especially those in the medical field as per Master Mayne’s wishes. Despite this, you will return to Mayne Manor when you are discharged, and will reside there until you are of legal age to decide otherwise.” Octavia’s head bowed, bangs obscuring her face. “Mister Silvermane, can I ask you a couple of questions?” “Of course.” “Dad used to call you Alfred. May I call you that too?” “You may. However, I am assuming that that isn’t what you wanted to ask me.” Alfred’s heart sunk as Octavia’s eyes were swimming in tears when she turned to look at him. “C-Can we go home?” “Of course.” > Extended Vacation > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         There was a twinkle in the golden stallion’s eyes as he pressed his cheek against the gray mare next to him. A short, red mane mixed with a long, black one. Her face was annoyed beyond belief, but there was a hint of smile that betrayed her inner feelings. The stallion’s tailcoat was slightly disheveled as the mare reached over to pull on his purple bow-tie, in a seeming effort to strangle him. Despite everything, the moment was perfect, forever frozen in time on a piece of glossy paper. Frozen in place, Octavia studied the framed picture on her desk. Shivers went down her spine as the cold emptiness of the room seeped into her bones. Violet eyes glazed over as the joyous face of her parents stared back. Her mind had burned their faces to memory. She missed everything: the comfort, safety, happiness…the love. Their actual presence, however, was what she misses most of all.   She will never forget, but she couldn’t stay. There was nothing keeping her in place without making her heart clench, and mind reel with guilt. Blinking out of her daze, she turned around and walked towards her bed where an open suitcase lay. Reaching down, she gently lifted a purple bow-tie. A bow-tie she has seen many times in her life, immortalized in various frames in her room and a welcome shadow in many memories. She couldn’t help but feel the fuzz in her chest as she thanked the stars above that it was spared the carnage of that fateful night all those years ago by lying innocently in her father’s room. Approaching another framed memory, she carefully set the bow-tie with a lingering caress before it. Her mind clouded as the image came to life around her. She saw herself and her mother sitting proudly back-to-back with their eyes closed, heads raised to the sky in exaggerated sophistication. Both were clad in a familiar tailcoat and violet bow-tie. Her mother’s was tailored perfectly for the occasion, while Octavia nearly drowned in the size of her own. Despite the supposed haughtiness of the image, she could easily see the determination the mares had to stifle their laughter. Their incredibly stiff forms shook in an effort to keep from exposing their mirth. An annoyed stallion rolled his eyes as they tried to remain oblivious to his presence before taking their picture while wearing an identical outfit. The corner of Octavia’s mouth threatened a smile as it twitched upward. It was enough. She remembered, and she wouldn’t forget. The memories will stay with her. No matter where she may go. “Miss Octavia, your taxi has arrived.” Startled, her head snapped towards the direction of the door. After a moment’s pause at the sudden distraction of her butler, she swiftly moved to her bed, slammed the suitcase shut, hauled it onto her back, and took one last glance at the photos scattered about the room.         “I don’t know when I’ll be back. But when I do, I’ll make sure to visit you both.”         With that, she dashed out of her room, leaving her memories locked and preserved, waiting for her to return. ~~~         Octavia shivered. The bitter cold stinging her skin. She shrunk inwards into her cloak in an effort to keep her body warm. Adjusting her cloak, her ears twitched and turned behind her, alerting her of her surroundings. At the slight sound of rushing air, she instantly dropped to floor, narrowly missing a pair of claws aiming at her. She paid no mind to the sound of shredding fabric.         Looking around, she cautiously stood up before inspecting her cloak. Eyes narrowed at it as it fluttering in place, now in shreds. Violet eyes sharply scanned the tree line for movement, searching for her assailant. ~~~         “Ugh…Bats…Why did it have to be bats…I hate bats…”         Octavia grimaced as she swatted at the colony of bats flying above her head. Sighing, she lowered her hoof and kept moving deeper into the dark cave. She needed to find an entrance. She hoped it wouldn’t be a fruitless task since she was hopelessly lost. Everything looked the same and it was too dark to spot any differences in the rock. The thick cloud of bats above her did nothing to alleviate her tension. Following them was pointless. She had tried and it seemed that they were purposefully flying in circles, preventing her leave by refusing her the exit. There was no telling how long she’d been wandering the extensive tunnels of the mountain, but it felt like ages. She bowed her head in exhaustion as her legs carried her further into the labyrinth. She could barely see. Even her hooves in front of her face were invisible as the gray from her coat blended with shadow. The darkness was consuming and it was eating her alive.         She stopped as her ears pricked forwards. She knew that sound, and it was heaven to her ears. It was the sound of running water. Carefully navigating the tunnels, she headed to the sound’s source, knowing her saving grace would be at the end. She couldn’t afford to rush to it as there was no telling just how dangerous the cave really was. It was lethal. Both the inhabitants and the cave itself wanted to keep her. She knew this, and she had to be careful.         Knowing she was growing close, she sped up her pace just a bit. Enough to move faster, but not enough to be careless. She stopped when a drop of water hit her nose. Looking up in an effort to find the source, but was greeted with more water falling on her face. With this, she knew she was getting closer and decided to keep walking. Octavia flinched as a colony of bats flew past her in a frenzy. Her grimace was short lived as a small trickle of water began to continuously pelt her back. With an echoing rumble, Octavia turned tail and ran after the bats.         The bats knew where an exit was. They would guide her to safety. They hadn’t yet, but surviving was much more desirable than toying with her. Surely it was more important. At the very least, she hoped it was. Her ears flattened against her skull as the sound of rushing water grew near. It echoed harshly through the tunnel, pounding into her skull. She took a deep breath as a wave of icy water hit her flank. Trying to keep her hooves on the floor was pointless as the rushing water swept her up and threw her around like a foal would a ragdoll. Octavia was helpless.         Struggling against the flood, she forced her powerful legs to keep her afloat. It was difficult, but not impossible. Despite being painfully thrashed against the rock walls, she managed to keep her head above the water. It wasn’t until she got the wind knocked out of her when her back roughly made contact with a jagged stalagmite that her orientation was thrown out the window. Taken by surprise with no air in her lungs, she no longer had a sense of up or down as she was carelessly pushed through the water-filled tunnels. Struggling for air and fighting to stay afloat, she soon began to lose strength in her limbs. Her eyelids started fluttering closed as she grew limp, completely at the mercy of the current. She could no longer fight, not with water in her lungs and weakness in her body. ~~~         The silhouette of circling bats against the moonlight was her only constant.         The darkness, your home. The shadows, your refuge. The silence, your power. They hide you. They protect you. Bats. The bats know this. Owls. Owls live this. Feel it. Embrace it. See. If you can’t see, listen. Violet eyes closed, and she listened. Slowly, the sounds became clearer. She could hear the soft rustle of the remains of her cloak fluttering in the tiny breeze and the sounds of the bats overhead. The earth breathing under her hooves. Rustling leaves. Snapping her eyes open, she swiftly turned around and sent an uppercut flying high into the air, propelled by her earth pony strength. Her eyes narrowed as her hoof harshly connected with a shadow. She watched it skid on the dirt before coming to a stop in a beam of moonlight. The light betrayed her assailant, revealing a powerfully built griffin. His graying, dirty, black fur glistened in the moonlight; a pair of powerful wings slowly extended to keep balance; the disheveled, gray feathers of his head fluttered softly in the breeze; a slim beak curled in anger, and claws dug into the earth. His bright green eyes locked with her own. Use the darkness, as it is your ally. Use it to terrify your enemies. Use it reveal your foes. You are the darkness. You wear the colors of the night. Let it be your domain. Octavia readied herself as the griffin leaped towards her with claws bared wide. ~~~         A cough.         Two.         Purple eyes snapped open.         Sitting up, Octavia took in her unfamiliar surroundings.         There was a campfire. A tent. A mountain off in the distance. She was at a campsite. It was nighttime. There was a snapping twig.         Jumping to her hooves to face the sound, she was met with the sight of black furred griffin. Tensing, she backed away slowly. The griffin padded to the fire, and proceeded to drop kindling alongside it. She watched as he tended the fire, keeping her distance. She observed his well-groomed body. Sleek, black fur. Perfectly preened, gray feathers. Claws sharpened. H was definitely not a careless griffin. It put her more on edge.         “If you are done acting like a skittish filly, we may begin a conversation and settle down to eat.”         She glared at the griffin. Not trusting him, but decided to sit on the opposite side of the fire. Watching him while never dropping her guard. Her muscles quivered and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.         “Much better. Now we may speak like civilized beings. What is the last thing you remember?”His voice was smooth. Charming. She didn’t like it. It put her on edge.         “I was in the caves. A current broke through and flooded the tunnels.” He seemed surprised that she answered. She didn’t want to speak, but it might give her a clue as to what had happened.         “It makes sense. I found you outside one of the run-offs near the opening of a nearby cave, nearly dying from hypothermia.  The rock isn’t very strong there and there is always constant flooding. I brought you here to recover, but you are strong for managing to stay alive despite my care. The floods are rather vicious during the wet season in the Griffin Kingdom, not to mention all of the unmentionable beasts and obstacles that roam these lands. Very impressive that you reached this deep in these lands on your own. Which begs the question, what is a mare like you doing so far from Equestria?” There was a calmness to his voice. It wasn’t as inquisitive as she had expected, but an acceptance and dark curiosity.         She blinked and stared at the fire in an effort to clear her mind as much as possible. The embers seemed to dance in her eyes, replaying the memory that she wished never happened. She traveled so far, only to be cared for a stranger. She was weak. If she was stronger, none of this would have happened. She would not have almost drowned. She would not have gotten lost in foreign lands. She would not be the only survivor of her family; she could have helped.         “I came to grow. To become stronger.”         The fire continued its dance.         “Your heart is heavy, and your mind, clouded. Are you disillusioned by the promise of grandeur, or are you genuine in your quest?”         She could feel his eyes boring into her.         “Protect. I want to protect the weak. To prevent needless suffering. To bring hope to the hopeless. To fight injustice.” Her voice was low. Determined. She waited for his response as she heard him humming in thought before speaking.         “You cannot be weak. You will need training to be the hero you think they need.”         His emerald eyes studied her. He could sense her determination. This was no weak filly out for adventure and trivial thrill; surviving the floods proved this. The potential was there. He could bring it out and harness it.         “Sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll begin. You will become more more than a simple pony. You will be your ideal.”         Octavia’s head snapped up to look at griffin. Disbelief and confusion filled her thoughts as the griffin stood up and walked back into the woods, his voice echoing in the night.         “I do suggest the rest. You will most definitely need it. From here on, you may refer to me as your teacher.”         Violet eyes narrowed. ~~~         Octavia ducked under her mentor and dashed into the woods, leaving the griffin in her wake. Hiding in the bushes, she knew taking him on head-to-head would defeat the purpose of the training. She needed to become a shadow, not a brute. Now was not the time for such blatant violence. Watching him from the bushes, she knew their roles were now reversed. He was waiting, and she was watching.         She dove at him, sending him up to the sky with a beat of his wings, and then disappeared into the darkened trees. Watching him hover in the clearing, she crept to higher ground. She watched his gaze scan the area as she snuck to a small cliff overlooking their clearing.         Crouching low, she watched him. She had the upper hand. A winged predator never looks up, always down in search of prey. Her mentor’s instincts were no different. Leaping from the edge, she aimed her fall towards him. She grinned as her torn cloak left the silhouette of a bat, leaving her hidden from his view, thinking she was just another winged mammal of the many above.         Adjusting her legs, she moved them to land directly over the griffin’s wings, pinning him to the ground. His indignant grunt of surprise and pain satisfied her heart, much to her surprise.         “Hide among your brethren and use your enemy’s instincts against them. Well done my little pony. I yield as I have been bested.”         Carefully stepping off her teacher’s wings, she watched him get to his feet. Dusting himself off, he turned to face her.         “My admiration for you is well-founded, Ms. Mayne. May we meet again in the future.” She watched him bow his head in acknowledgement before he took off into the air, his dark fur blending with the sky. Turning around, she knew it was time to head home. Disappearing into the shadows, her ears twitched as they heard the smooth voice of her mentor.         “Be the legend they cannot stop, Octavia.” ~~~         Alfred Silvermane was good at his job. His Mistress has been away for years, but that did not mean he could slack off. He alone was tasked with the upkeep of Mayne Manor, and he would not let the estate fall into squalor under his watch. Every day he would clean and maintain the large property. It was a large job, but the brown earth pony had been trusted with it. To disrespect the property like a common miscreant would go against his code. He swore to uphold his duties as a butler and confidant, and he has proudly kept this oath through the years.         While, currently inspecting a mirror in the washroom, he could see a smudge of dirt on his pristine, white hair in the reflection. This would not do. The mirror was dirty, and it must be spotless. About to raise a cleaning cloth to rid the mirror of the offending stain, he heard a knock. Setting down the cloth, he made his way to the door, prepared to shoo away the visitor. It was most likely another journalist looking for the whereabouts of his mistress. Again.         Pulling back the door, he raised a brow at the visitor before him. While the dirty, disheveled, gray mare stood before him, he could see that she had grown quite a bit in the years that she was gone. Strong, familiar, violet eyes stared at him. They held a spark of clarity and life that he had not seen since she was a filly. One that both her parents held before their passing. He wished that he could ignore the lingering darkness hiding inside of his mistress. He grimaced as a lingering smell reached his nose. This would not do. His mistress was filthy and unannounced. The disapproval over her state of appearance was evident as he opened the door wider and stepped aside.         “I’ll start a bath for you in the washroom Miss Octavia. And do wipe your hooves before stepping inside. I just recently waxed the floor.”         He watched her smile as she wiped her hooves on the welcome mat. Closing the door after her, he set off to the washroom to start his task. She was a mess, and he knew she needed a rest after such a long ‘vacation’.         He was in charge of the manor until his mistress returned. Not a speck of unwanted dirt would go past the door. Not a single mess or problem would escape his notice and be ignored. His mistress was no exception. She will recover in the comfort of her home after a much needed break until she is ready, and it would start with a long, relaxing, bath. Soon, he would officially meet the beautiful stranger who had finally returned home. Not a single soul could say that Alfred Silvemane was neglectful in his duties. > Cold Deck > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         A white, brown-haired unicorn sat idly at his desk. His blue eyes scanned the documents strewn about haphazardly. Smoothing out his mustache, he came to a decision. Sighing, he began to organize his desk as he waited. A soft blue glow surrounded his papers are they were slowly sorted into their appropriate piles. Once organized, a pen was lifted into the air and put to paper, thus beginning the mind-numbing process of paperwork. His head hit his desk as he saw the stack of papers he needed to look through. So…much…paperwork…         One complete.         An initial here.         A signature there.         A new policy that he really did not want to read.         Another sigh.         He was jerked back to reality as his door slammed open, revealing a white pegasus mare panting frantically on his doorstep. A red mane clung to her neck and her police uniform was disheveled. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths as she began to speak. “Commissioner, we’ve lost the trail. He’s still out there. Ran back to the North Canterlot District. Detective Shot went back to the crime scene and wants to know what we should do now.” He was silent for a moment as he mulled it over in annoyance. He watched the mare fidget as she waited for his answer. “Tell her that we can’t follow him. Not yet. Not until our department is finished changing our jurisdiction policies on the districts. We have no authority there except in the event of a royally sanctioned emergency or crisis. Until we are given the clear for North Canterlot, just patrol and keep watch for his return.” “Understood.” She nodded her head and left his office. This was a problem. He knew it. There was a dangerous criminal on the loose, and he’s out of reach. Turning in his chair, he studied the map pinned behind him of his city. Canterlot was a large. So large, it had to be divided into individual districts, each with its own police force to keep the crime level under control. And the criminal fled to North Canterlot. The area had been affectionately dubbed Gotham District by the residents for its tall structures, as well as being currently known as one of the most dangerous and crime filled areas in the city. The other districts’ crime rates were increasing at alarming rates as well, but they were out of his power. His department was being transferred to North Canterlot, but the officials were taking too long in signing. “The paperwork needs to get through so we can catch him. Darn politics…” he mumbled to himself as he levitated a little red pin and placed it on the map, right at the district’s center. The pin now resided on top of a large square marked Mayne Enterprises, the very heart of Gotham. ~~~          “Madam, I don’t believe it would be wise to go spelunking, as you seem to call it, in the caves after your previous experience,” Alfred deadpanned as he looked down the gaping hole before him.         “You make a fair point Alfred, but I did learn to hold my breath longer in the event that it happens again.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the slight grin on his Mistress’s face. Watching as she slowly rappelled down the hole, he raised a brow as the rope became dangerously taut. And then it snapped. After hearing a thud at the bottom of the hole, he pricked his ears forward as he listened for signs of life. Sticking his head into the opening, he called out.         “I would appreciate it if you didn’t die, Madam. This is a rather dangerous activity and the press would have a field day.”         His ears were soon met with the voice of his Mistress.         “Stop worrying so much. I’m a little dusty, but perfectly fine. Who knew being tossed from a steep cliff by a deranged griffin would have its uses, don’t you think so Alfred?”         “That is not a comforting notion, I’m afraid.”         “May I have another flare? I seem to have dropped mine in the fall, and it is terribly dark in the tunnels.”         Octavia stared into the large tunnel openings before her as she waited for a flare. If the area under her home was large enough, it would suit her purpose.         It should be big enough. I don’t particularly enjoy the thought of lair hunting through all of Canterlot. The mountain should have enough caverns for the task.         The feeling of something hitting her skull snapped her out of her thoughts. Looking down at the offending object, she noticed that it was a new flare. Looking up at the mouth of the hole in question, she was greeted by the sight of perfectly calm butler. He was smirking. In his mind. She just knew it.         “Pardon me Ms. Octavia. It seems that I miscalculated.”         No. He wasn’t smirking. He was laughing in that head of his. She was sure of it.         Picking up the flare, she began her trek into the caves with an eyelid twitching in annoyance. ~~~         The red light of the flare illuminated the dark cavern, exposing every nook and cranny, while showing just how expansive the tunnel system under Mayne Manor really was. Octavia scanned the cavern with a critical eye. The shadows danced among the walls, fueled by the red light in her mouth. The light reflecting in her eyes grew in their intensity. The fire resting there was indistinguishable from the light or her inner thoughts. She could hear a waterfall in the distance, mostly likely the source of the enormous pool of water covering the floor of the cavern. It surrounded a small, raised island of black rock that sat at its center.         Suddenly stepping to the side, she let a colony of bats fly past her in a flurry. The sight of them sent goose bumps down her back and a chill up her spine. She released the breath she didn’t know she was holding as the group flew away.         “Bats…” she muttered to herself. She was about to step forward when a small shadow caught her eye. Turning to look at it, she noticed it was a small bat struggling to fly, still technically a baby. “It must have fallen when the colony went to feed…,” she murmured. As much as she saw that the pup struggled to stay in the air, she didn’t lift a hoof to help. The pup flailed around, trying to stay upright. Her violet eyes narrowed at the sight, lip curled in annoyance. “Spread your wings, pup. Fly…” The pup kept flailing as she began to seethe. Memories of nobles attempting to gain favor with her recently orphaned self invaded her mind. “Spread them. Prove that you don’t need anyone’s help.” The command coldly echoed in the cavern as she continued to observe. Her gaze softened as the pup leveled out mid-air and flew haphazardly in the direction of the others. As it flew towards her, it caused a shadow to float along the wall, stretching out from behind Octavia. Rooted to the spot, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the flying bat as her chest heaved. “Show them. Show them that you are a force to be reckoned with,” she spoke, barely a whisper. The pup’s shadow faded away from behind her as the flare went out. ~~~         “Sir, we have good news and bad news.”         A white unicorn looked up through his messy, brown mane. Setting down his pen, he gave the light brown, pegasus mare his full attention.         “The good news is that we apprehended one of the accomplices of the criminal. I was able to get some information out of him.”         He watched her quiver nervously as her dark brown eyes looked every which way. Her breathing was slightly ragged, and the dark grey streaks in her black mane seemed to shine as a thin layer of sweat made it obvious she hadn’t had the chance to clean up yet. Even the new, gold, badge hanging around her neck appeared to have been through better times. He stroked his mustache as he thought about the recent information. He wasn’t able to chase this criminal as he was busy investigating the headquarters of the pony responsible for possible clues as to his whereabouts and identity. Normally, such information would make him feel better about their current situation, but he dreaded the bad news that would inevitably reach his ears. “And the bad news Quick Shot?” Her body drooped as she tried to avoid looking him in the eye. She caught herself after a moment and straightened back out, locking gazes with him. “The accomplice was with him at the time, and while the perpetrator gave us the slip, we at least caught sight of certain identifying details about the individual before he ran. We put the information away for the time being so we could interrogate the accomplice. We still don’t know his name, but he revealed to us that the criminal responsible is not one pony. It is many. They mask the pony so he is not obviously given away, but also in the event that if we do catch him, we are only given an underling of the operation. Each time he strikes, the pony at the time is only given details about the job in particular and nothing else. None of them know anything besides that.” He sat in silence as his brain processed the information. There was more than one. It answered many questions, such as why they couldn’t decide whether or not the criminal was a mare or a stallion, blue or red, the height, or why the chase seemed different every time they found him. The thought that if they caught him or her, the one in question would just be replaced with another did not sit well with him. It was not one pony, but an organization they needed to find. An organization that stole what it saw fit, and destroyed anypony in their way. A headache began to form as he stood from his chair. Grabbing his tan overcoat from the coat rack, he slipped it on and made towards the door. The mare stepped aside to let him through before following him down the hallway. “Sir?” “Tell the officers that there will be a meeting in the conference room at five today. There are some things that I need to do before they are given any information.” “Understood.” He kept moving as a flash of brown took off down a separate hallway to pass the message to the other officers. He needed to give this information to the Royal Guard. It was a breakthrough and the Guard needed to know about dangerous gangs in the city, no matter the location. ~~~         A large stallion opened the door to the bar, the small bell announcing his presence. A red sweater covered his torso. The hood covered his face; shrouding it from recognition, save for a lock of purple mane. His orange coat gave an unearthly glow as it shone under the building’s dimmed, fluorescent lights. Taking a look around, he noticed the patrons of the bar were but a handful. It explained the silence. His short, purple tail swished around as the earth pony took a seat at the counter. Lifting himself onto the barstool, he adjusted his hood as a bartender came down to him.         “What can I get ya, hun?”         Looking up, he realized the bartender was female. He grinned.         “Surprise me.”         Chuckling softly, the mare disappeared to fulfill his order. Watching her, he noticed she was a pretty little thing. A blonde mane fell gently down her slender neck, revealing the soft blue of her coat. His head tilted as he studied her cutie mark. It was a white butterfly. No, wait… It was an image of two ponies staring at each other…or maybe it’s a fancy drinking glass? His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to pinpoint just what it was that was on her hindquarters. He finally settled on a butterfly just as a glass of green liquid was placed in front of him.         “Negative space illusion.”         He looked at her in confusion.         “My cutie mark. It’s an example of a negative space illusion. You see whatever your mind decides it wants to see. It tells much about a pony if you think about it. What did you see?”         “Everything. The ponies. The butterfly. The glass.” She closed her blue eyes and hummed in thought at the response before his voice broke her concentration. “You know a lot about it. You sure you’re just a bartender? That doesn’t really look like a cutie mark a bartender usually has.”         She giggled at his teasing while turning to look at him.         “I’m just working here until I can find another job. My old place was shut down because of funding issues, so I lost my internship there. Not many places looking for a shrink with no experience. As for you, what’re you drinking all alone for? Don’t you have someplace you’d rather be?”         The grin he sported sent chills down her back. She wasn’t sure if it terrified her, or if she liked it.         “A therapist working as a bartender. Haven’t met one of those yet. Anyway, I’m just killing some time. My wife left me and took everything. Now I need to meet up with a few of my buddies in a few. Said they had a job for me. Nothing special really.” Noting the sadness behind the outward cheer, she decided not to comment as he addressed her. “As for you, why are you giving me so much attention? Don’t you have other customers to attend to?”         Her gaze caught the reflection of harsh green eyes under his hood. She swallowed at the amount of grief in them. “Not really. The others left. In case ya haven’t noticed, you’re the only one here, puddin’.” Turning to look, he noticed that she was right. He was the only patron left, so by default, he got special attention. “These buddies of yours, gonna play some card games?” She mistook his look as one of confusion. She didn’t know what else it could be. He was staring at her. She just knew it. His jaw was also tense, so she just assumed he was thinking. “Your cutie mark. You’ve got a royal flush going on there, ‘cept there’s a joker card where the ten usually is. I’m assuming you play with your buddies a lot? Usually walking away with all the chips?” His grin unnerved her. “Poker actually. I actually got invited this time. You don’t want to play against someone with my cutie mark after all.  You might as well hand over all the money.” His deep laugh made her stomach do a flip in anxiety. This stallion...there was something wrong with him…and she didn’t like it. The cruel and bitter tone in his voice made her want to turn tail and run. Blinking, she knew she was probably overreacting, but it’s never wrong to be too careful. Might as well play along. “Makes sense. Hey, since we’re talkin’ and all and I seem to have forgotten my manners, you can call me Hayley. Everypony does.” Her small grin was met with a chuckle. She shivered. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. Instead, they heard an explosion in the distance. Turning to look through the window into the dark street, she caught a flash of orange out of the corner of her eye. Her patron had run off. Without paying. “Hey! You can’t just drink and run!” “Gotta go! Places to be, times to meet!” She fumed as she angrily lifted the empty glass off the counter. The glass shattered as it slipped from her hoof as another explosion shook the building. “Oh, horseapples…” ~~~         Octavia began to pull her cowl over her face, before giving herself a once-over to make sure that everything was in place. Looking at her reflection in the nearby water, she inspected her equipment. Every part of her body was covered by a dark gray, flexible and durable material, giving her full-body armor. Usually, it’s generally bulletproof when finished. Currently, it’ll only stop a knife. Maybe. Her bat-like cowl was a deep black, covering everything but her muzzle. The ears were longer, pointier than a pony’s would be. The hard material traveled down the expanse of her neck before flaring out into a large, scalloped cape that covered her long, black tail at the back of the suit. Dark, leather gloves matching her cape in color sat snugly up until her knees. Three scalloped fins protruded from the sides as they rested on an outer bracer. Violet eyes stared approvingly at the stylistic, black bat emblazoned on her chest as she minutely adjusted the muted gold utility belt sitting snugly around her middle.         “Is there a particular reason for the bat design, Ma’am?”         Her eyes narrowed at her reflection.         “Bats terrify me. Might as well place my fear into the ones I seek. Make the beasts useful.”         Aflred stared at the bat suit. A list of all the features built into it passed a quick checklist in his mind.         “Madam, you do realize that neither the suit nor any of its equipment has been properly tested or finished.”         She turned to look at her butler. A small grin formed before it was wiped from her face.         “Now is as good a time as any to see what needs improvement. What better than a field test? Let’s see what it can do, shall we?”         His blue eyes noticed every detail, and very few things got past him, but in that moment, he was genuinely impressed at the sudden disappearance of his Mistress. She truly had become a creature of the night in order to combat injustice.         “Alfred! Don’t forget to feed the bats today! I’m sure they would appreciate it.”         His eye twitched as he heard his Mistress’s disembodied voice, now deeper and more seductive than it usually was, echo throughout the cave.         She was a creature of the night all right. She was not a bat, however, but an obnoxious demon. With a sigh, he went to prepare the bats’ dinner. He discovered that they prefer extra virgin olive oil. Who knew?