I had been in the hospital for two weeks when my old master was brought in. He had been attacked by the Cult of Artemis; he was bleeding profusely and seemed to be feverish from the poison they employed. He had moments of lucidity, but they were rare. He spent hours screaming and raving like a stallion possessed, but there was little the doctors could do. There was no known cure for the poison at the time, and I refused to allow the doctors to kill him. I knew this stallion, he did not fear pain.
In the last of those rare moments when he was fully aware, he taught me something. He called it the fourth tenant of the Creed:
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
He explained to me that I was too young and too brash to understand these words, for they expected true wisdom in the pony that would follow them. He asked me never to forget those words, for they would aid me in a time of need if I allowed them to do so. He died that night, in his sleep. It was a good death for a stallion such as him; there was no shame in it. In his memory, I engraved my hidden blade with the words he taught me, so that I may never forget them. Niente è vero, tutto è permesso. I follow these words in all things, and they have always led me true.
I spent the remainder of my time in the Royal Hospital dwelling over both these words and what had led me there. My arrogance and pride had blinded me to reason; I had thought myself above my enemies. I was fortunate to survive, and I would have been un pazzo to deny the lesson. A warrior must always consider his enemies to be his equals or superiors, no matter the scenario. Even the weakest of enemies may get lucky. I spent many hours dwelling over every mistake I had made; not informing the Guard of my location, not escaping as soon as my presence was announced, tiring myself in extended combat, and not wearing armour. Such mistakes cannot be corrected, but they can be prevented in the future.
Once I had examined the reason for my failure, I turned my will towards the fourth tenant. Such a simple phrase, but it is deceptive in its plainness. The fool will read those words and claim that they grant him the right to do as he wishes, but this is not so. The genius will read them and claim that he has no understanding of them. It is only the wise who can truly understand this phrase.
Nothing is true. There is no higher cause, no higher power, no higher plane of existence to fight for. There is only us, and our short lives.
Everything is permitted. Whatever must be done to preserve this limited world must be done, no matter the morality or consequences. If the death of one stallion will save the lives of thousands, that stallion must die. The Assassins are the ones who must follow this obligation.
“I wonder, Twilight Sparkle, do you see?” asked Ombra.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” she answered slowly, not comprehending the question.
“Those words, those few simple words, are the justification for all I have done. I am a monster, Twilight Sparkle. I harbour no illusion of being the noble demon. I do what must be done, even if others fear to do it. Such is why the Assassins work in the darkness to serve the light. I do evil so that the good things in this wonderful world may exist. Do you see?” he asked again.
Twilight thought for a moment. She agreed wholeheartedly that Ombra was a monster, but she could also see the positive impact of his work. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she did see.
Ombra remained silent, waiting for an answer.
“I do,” she began, “you’re the necessary evil. You take the enemies method, and you use it against them.”
Ombra nodded, and began his story again.
At the time, such an understanding of these words eluded me. I knew I could not comprehend the message, but I trusted that I would in time. When I was fully recovered, I searched the Guards armoury again. I eventually found an ancient suit of armour, with an inscription on its side that I could not understand. I brought this armour to a scholar in the palace, and he translated the inscription for me. It read:
“This is the armour of the Eagle who chose the path of light. May whoever wears it never come to harm.”
I did not know who this Eagle was, but the armour was strong, light, and it fit me well. So outfitted, I began my hunt for the next Sanctuary of Artemis. The Cult had killed the closest thing I had to a real father in my youth, so I felt I had a great debt to repay.
Translations
ingannevole semplicità=Deceptive Simplicity
Un Pazzo=A Fool
Niente è vero, tutto è permesso=Nothing is true, everything is permitted