//------------------------------// // 84 - Infiltrations // Story: From Dusk to Night // by KuroiTsubasaTenshi //------------------------------// Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Not that I expected as much, but even dozing a few moments set my body on edge. I’d flown out the long the way, passing over the back of the forest, then circling back. I’d stayed low until about halfway back to the observatory, landing and taking a route through the underbrush for the remainder. There were fewer Crusaders than before and not a single mercenary. I debated whether I should return, wondering if they’d shifted their forces to lie in wait for me. They couldn’t have known, though at the same time, the estate was an obvious option to take shelter in. In the end, I decided I couldn’t afford to leave it be. The others would be headed there for my message and if it was overrun, I’d need to find some way to warn them. Thankfully, it seemed as abandoned as the first time I’d stopped in. Still, I felt like I was on the verge of overstaying my welcome. The longer I was here, the more likely someone would spot me, and then the estate would be watched even more closely. And yet, I needed to check the manor. Despite the manor’s proximity to the town, Ivory’s safe room was technically the best opportunity for a secure rendezvous. Besides, with her cabins looking less and less attractive as hiding places, this was my only other lead. That said, the night cast too many shadows over much unscouted land. And while the mercenaries had supposedly been recalled, my encounter with who was presumably Crimson Haze left me spooked. In fact, his scent lingered in my nostrils, burned there for all eternity. Even as I dozed in the corner to the left of the door, every time my eyelids sagged shut, I thought I saw him, standing over the broken table. And each time my eyes shot open, he was gone. By the fifth time, I was fed up enough that I decided I needed another way to pass the time to dawn. So I paced the room. Eventually my brain turned toward my note. I need to make it clear and concise, and yet, cryptic enough where if it was compromised, my enemy would gain little from it. After the tenth revision, I settled on: N- Still searching, but so are they. If feeling safe, scout out town. Beware red armor. -D By the time I’d slipped my little nugget behind the moon poster, light was starting to filter in from above. A bubbling pot of both weariness and relief, I snuck over to the door, scanning for signs of activity before pushing out into the yard. The morning air was warm and welcoming, ever ignorant of the storm brewing among the people here. Shaking off my grogginess, I moved from brush to brush as I headed for the rear of the manor. Perhaps it was just my mind reminding me not to get complacent, but every time I glanced at the rest of the yard, something struck me as out of place. And yet, there was nothing obvious: no hoofprints, nor were the patches of brush across the path disturbed in any significant way. For a moment, I let my eyes wander up the main road, among the weeds, up the chipped stone steps, to the heavy double doors. Nothing out of place there, either. Shaking my head, I turned back to my task—albeit a bit more cautiously. It was hard to tell, but the half-consumed main path had an offshoot that ran along the shorter side of the manor. Following the remnants of gravel patches, I reached the rear garden, which had been long overgrown. In fact, it seemed to have reached a breaking point, where bits were drying up and withering away, collapsing under its own excess. Gingerly, I slipped around the vines and thorns, aiming for the simple wooden door at the manor’s corner. As best I knew, this was the most inconspicuous point of entry, even counting the ex-garden that conspired to give me away. Easing the door open as little as possible, I snaked into the room, painfully aware that it was prone to creaking around the halfway point. I blinked a few times, letting my eyes adjust before nudging the door shut. The storage room was about as dusty as I remembered, intermingled with a distinct mildewy smell that was no doubt the fault of the pile of rotting barrels and sacks. Wrinkling my muzzle, I did my best to ignore it as I worked the door that would lead me out into the hallway. The carnage of Ivory’s family’s evacuation lingered, the furniture and crates full of knick knacks keeping their decades-long vigil. And it was likely they would remain as such for years to come. From an emotional standpoint, I wasn’t even sure if Ivory would ever be ready to clean this up. Practically speaking, they were better left untouched. To disturb anything here could very well give Ivory away, signalling an easy location in which to ambush her. I edged down the hallway, careful not to make a sound, as I passed the rows of closed doors. The dust around them was about as old as could be, but there were technically other ways into some of those rooms. The possibility was enough to induce caution, though clearing the entire manor by myself would take well over a day. We had previously arranged a way for Ivory to indicate whether she was in the manor or not. If this signal was there, I would make a closer sweep of the immediate area before knocking. Otherwise, we were both better served by me getting out of here as soon as possible. Pressing up against the wall as I entered the amphitheatre, I scanned the room. In all honesty, it was probably the easiest of anything to check. The sun streaming through the broken windows left few shadows to hide in; and the debris consisted entirely of hoof-sized rocks, shattered bits of glass and dried-up leaves. Further, the entrance I was sheltered in was near the back, closest to the array of six stone columns that composed the staging area. A few quick side steps were all I needed to check them. In the back corner was a decorative bust, set upon a short stone pillar. While the whole thing was caked in dust, the beard and wide-brimmed wizard hat made the model’s identity rather obvious. However, Starswirl was not what I was interested in. Instead, I slid up against the wall, glancing behind the bust. My face fell. Were Ivory here, there would have been a small bit of cloth tucked between Starswirl and the pillar. With a short sigh, I turned back toward where I came in. That was when the tap of a hoof on stone reached my ears. I froze, waiting for the next. There was none. I wondered if I was imagining things. A few seconds later, another isolated tap. Someone was definitely here and definitely trying not to be noticed. I darted over to the nearest column, crouching behind it as best I could. If they came this way, I hoped it was via one of the two lower entrances. Otherwise, my own ease of clearing the room would soon be turned against me. Of course, that was exactly where the figure appeared. For a brief, fleeting moment, I imagined it might be Ivory. A tall, golden mare stepped out into the sun. She was muscular, but not exactly bulky—more of the lithe, athletic type. Regardless, it was still readily apparent, despite the heavy brown cloak and the steel half-barding beneath that. The hood was pulled back, giving me a a full view of her grassy green eyes and brownish-yellow mane. Though her forelock was left loose, the back was tied into a neat bun. My best guess was that she was a scout of some kind. “I know you’re there.” She took a few steps forward, tapping the edge of one of her steel shoes against the stone. “Save us both the trouble and come out.” I poked my head around the column, figuring if she was really intent on fighting me, she wouldn’t have bothered with words. “Don’t you think it’s rude to be making demands without introducing yourself?” The golden mare narrowed her eyes so intently, I wondered if I’d somehow personally offended her. “Why should I give any courtesy to a trespassing thief.” “Trespassing?” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you really going to claim this place is yours?” “Regardless of whose property it is, intent is what matters.” She mirrored my look. “Unless you’re going to claim to be The Necromancer.” “The Necromancer?” I scoffed. “That’s just an old legend. I didn’t know mercenaries concerned themselves with the possessions of imaginary ponies.” “If you really believe that,” she said, gaze hardening, “then you’re in over your head. Stop poking your muzzle where it doesn’t belong.” “Says one of the ponies holding Pasture under martial law.” I was half-pulling things out of my ass by now, but if I could get any kind of information out of her without going anywhere near the town, it was worth pushing my luck. “What else is a vendor to do when she can’t get any customers?” “Don’t like it? Go to Iron Shoe.” Her eyes remained fixed on me. I had a feeling she wasn’t buying my horse apples. Her reply was too curt, too readily dismissive. I let out a sigh, drawing it out as long as I could. “What if I’m looking for something to fund that trip? You going to tell me to scavenge the side of the road until I’m able to crawl my way into Iron Shoe?” “I think if you were looking for valuables, there were plenty of better rooms to search.” She began to advance, a predator waiting to pounce. “What are you really doing here?” Darting back, I placed one of the other columns between us. “Exactly what I said. If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem.” “Fine, then we’ll do this the har—” “Sarge?!” a vaguely familiar voice hissed from the rear entrance. “Weren’t you just complaining about me wandering off?” I blinked. “Blaze?” Sure enough, Blaze trotted out of the hallway, orange coat glistening in the sun. “Wha—? Dusky?!” The other mare glanced between us, though she always had at least one eye on me. “Who? You know her?” “Of course!” Blaze grinned. “We’re old battle buddies! She even set me on my path to the Guard.” “You’re giving me too much credit.” I shook my head. “You’re the kind of person who would have ended up there one way or another.” ‘Sarge’ sighed. “Never mind that. You speak well of her and yet here she is, skulking around the shadows of an abandoned estate.” “And you aren’t?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m here because I’m supposed to be. You are sticking your muzzle where it doesn’t belong.” She pulled herself tall. To be fair, she was on an official Guard mission. And yet, there was something else. Something guarded, almost like she was trying to muscle anyone else out so she had absolute control of the situation. “No, Sarge. She’s here because she cares, which is as good a reason as any,” Blaze replied. “Celestia knows the Necromancer isn’t getting any sympathy from anypony else.” There was no use hiding it now. I nodded. “That’s about the gist of it.” “Great. More bias.” ‘Sarge’ pressed a hoof to her temple. “Speak for yourself.” Blaze frowned. “How many times do I have to tell you that she’s not a bad pony?” “You don’t. Let me remain neutral until I can judge for myself. You met her once, for a brief period of time. If you’ve been deceived, I have to be ready to do what’s necessary.” ‘Sarge’ met her frown. I wanted to point out that she’d swung way past neutral. In fact, she just about seemed ready to slit Ivory’s throat at the drop of a hat. Admittedly, the legends didn’t exactly give the best first impression, but even in the face of two eyewitnesses, this ‘Sarge’ was being excessively obstinate. Still, I decided to let it slide. I’d only be pushing her buttons, which was likely to make her even less receptive down the road. “So…” I cut in. “The Guard sent you two to investigate? Is that it?” “Yep!” Blaze nodded vigourously. “Sent me.” ‘Sarge’ frowned again. “She just tagged along.” “Hey! I know my way around here. They even acknowledged that,” Blaze huffed indignantly. “Dad called in a favour, eh?” I smirked. “How did y—never mind.” Blaze waved a hoof. “The important thing is we’re here. To help. Not to kill anypony. Problem is we ain’t got anything to go on.” “In that case, perhaps we should work together.” I was still more than a little wary of ‘Sarge’, but it would be better if I could keep an eye on her rather than chance them running into Ivory when I couldn’t step in. “At least, we’ve more than enough enemies here. No need to make more. I may even have an idea of where we could go next.” “Hey, no complaints here.” Blaze flashed me a grin. “Sergeant Reed?” Sergeant Reed gave me a severe look. “Are you going to be fanfillying over the Necromancer too?” I tilted my head. “I will make my opinions known whenever they’re relevant, but if you think I’ll be gushing, then no.” Sergeant Reed sighed. “Whatever. I guess that will have to be good enough. Now, about this idea of yours…”