//------------------------------// // Sunrise // Story: Scarlet // by Skijarama //------------------------------// This was getting ridiculous.  Silent Edge barely stifled a low growl of frustration as he came to a quiet landing atop one of Swanrun’s higher buildings. The streets were slowly becoming visible as the sun rose on the horizon, its golden rays somewhat smothered by the leftover rain clouds that stretched across the horizon. Despite that limited light, though, the world sparkled and shimmered with the still freshly fallen moisture. It was quite the particularly dreary scene. None of that mattered to him at the moment, though. Primrose had gotten away for the umpteenth time, and Scarlet, one of the only ponies he had ever deemed fit to call a friend, was now actively opposing him. He’d been scouring the streets for hours while his comrades scouted out the surrounding countryside. Alas, the darkness of the night and the rainfall did wonders in obscuring their vision. Even if one of them had gotten close to her, they may have easily missed her. He wasn’t able to keep in his growl this time, one of his hooves scraping along the smooth stone roof in a display of agitation. “Why, Scarlet…?” he whispered to himself, his mind focusing in on the mare in question, and how adamant she had been when she stood against him. “Why did you do it?” It didn’t make any sense to him. He knew her, or at least he thought he did. The Scarlet Frost that he had fought alongside was practical and pragmatic, never one to stick her muzzle where it did not belong. So why, then, had she decided now of all times was a suitable moment to involve herself in an event that had frankly nothing to do with her? His mind wandered to the moment she had first put herself between him and Primrose. She had been adamant in her resistance, refusing to budge an inch without information she was not at all allowed to have. And then, despite how rusty she was, the ferocity she had fought with when the battle began was on par with how she had been on the battlefield all those years ago. But again, the question remained… why? What was it about Primrose that made her go to such lengths? His ruminations on the strange twist of fate that had befallen him and his friend were cut short when he heard somepony else touch down on the roof behind him. Their landing was soft, and most other ponies would have outright missed it. Not him, though.  Silent was quick to compose himself before turning to face the Nightblade who just landed. It was a mare, her head obscured by a dark blue hood. She pulled it down to reveal a cream-colored coat and a short mane of fiery orange tied in the back into a ponytail. Her topaz-colored eyes bored into Silent’s. “Sir, I’ve come to report,” she declared simply. Silent nodded, facing her fully and putting all else aside for now. His duty had to come first. “I am listening. Did you find them?” The mare closed her eyes and lowered her head in an apology. “I’m afraid not, sir. The targets have managed to slip away. We were able to find some tracks on the beach, but between the rain and the rising tide, we were unable to track them for very far before they blended back into the sands. The others are continuing their search right now, but I fear we may be wasting our time.” Silent hummed in thought before turning to gaze out on Swanrun again. Where could Scarlet be going, he wondered? He was quiet for several seconds before sighing and nodding his head. “Very well. Rejoin the others and aid them in their search. I will search for any clues as to where our prey may be headed and link up with you as soon as I am done. Go.” The mare nodded sharply before pulling up her hood back up and leaping from the rooftop, her wings unfurled. She rose high into the air and sped off for the waterfront to the west, quickly disappearing into the distance and leaving Silent all alone on the rooftop.  He wasn’t there for long. With a graceful leap, he sailed through the air and wove his way through the buildings, a specific destination in mind. As he went, his keen eyes occasionally drifted down to study the streets below. He caught sight of a few ponies starting to emerge from their homes to begin the day, many of them looking tired and restless. Doubtless, the storm had done a number on their rest. Some glanced up at him in curiosity as he sped by, but none took much of an interest. Silent pulled his attention away from the commoners and focused on his flying. Soon enough, his destination came into view. With an easy descent, his hooves lightly touched down on the street just outside of Scarlet’s home. The front door was standing ajar, swinging gently and creaking in the gentle morning breeze.  Silent stepped inside, scanning the front room. He hummed quietly to himself when he saw that the place had been tossed up since his initial departure. The wooden floorboards in front of the doorway had been soaked by rain that managed to slip inside. The candles had all been blown out by the winds and sent rolling across the floor. Scouring the first floor revealed that things were more or less as they had been before, although several of the cupboards in the kitchen had been thrown open. If Silent had to guess, he would say that Scarlet had gotten food for the road. Given how things were thrown around, she had been in a hurry, which was not at all surprising. She knew perfectly well the fate she had locked herself into. The study was left more or less untouched. All he found of note was a modern history book closed on the table and a half-empty glass of wine. He briefly remembered Scarlet’s offer for some of the alcoholic beverage when he first arrived. He grunted dismissively to himself before finishing off what was left in the glass. It wasn’t much, and nowhere near enough to affect his senses, but it tasted fine nonetheless. Searching the desk revealed nothing of use, however. Convinced that there was nothing here in the study, he turned to go and scout the second floor. As he went to make his departure, though, something caught his eye on one of the many bookcases that lined the walls. It was a row of books that were far smaller and thinner than the others. They filled an entire shelf, each cover spouting one bright color or another, contrasting sharply with the rest of the tomes.  With his curiosity growing, Silent approached the bookcase and studied it for several moments, his eyes taking in each title. It didn’t take long for him to deduce what he was looking at. “...Foals’ books,” he mused to himself after a minute, his muzzle scrunching up. “...Since when did you have a love for the stories we tell to children, Scarlet?” His question would not be answered here, he knew, and so he made his way upstairs and for the mare’s bedroom. He found both bedroom doors left wide open, and a chilly draft worked its way through the hall from the open window in the guest room. Silent made a quick sweep of the space before moving on to Scarlet’s room. Scanning the room, he saw that the bed was in complete disarray. The blankets were wrinkled and crumpled into an impressive mess, implying that Scarlet had been tossing and turning. She must have been having a hard time sleeping. Searching her dresser revealed nothing of interest, save for one or two pieces of formal attire. But when he made his way to the drawer in Scarlet’s nightstand, he did find something. A rolled-up scroll, and a crumpled up sheet of parchment, both tucked into the very back and hidden from view. Curious, Silent unrolled the scroll and studied its contents. It was a map of New Equestria, specifically the northern half. It was a broad strokes depiction, mostly showing the large cities or settlements of importance. Oddly, there was a line drawn in red ink that connected Swanrun and Shimmervale that followed the main highway. Silent pondered that for a moment before moving onto the crumpled parchment. Unraveling it, he was taken aback to find that it was a note. To be more precise, it looked to be a page from a journal that had been unceremoniously torn from its bindings. There were several spots where some kind of stain marred the page, blurring the ink and obscuring some of the words. Nevertheless, Silent read it. “We’ll be leaving for Shimmervale in a few days. I will be honest, the prospect of seeing him again is making me more than a little uneasy. After so many years without contact, and with the news I need to bring to him, I can’t help but wonder if he’ll take it well. Lens was always a bit of an eccentric worrywart, and the way he reacts to unexpected problems is… well, unpredictable.  But Crystal keeps telling me that everything is going to be fine, and I can’t help but believe her. She’s excited, too, more than I think I’ve seen in a long time. That is a good thing, of course. I’d rather she be happy and excited than anything else... Oh, look at what I’m writing. All of this emotional and sentimental talk makes me sound like some saccharine flower mare, for pony’s sake. But… I cannot deny that I am happier like this. Although it amuses me to think that if somepony saw the mare I am now, they would not believe that I used to be a hardass battlemage who fought on the frontlines of the war.  I guess having a family changes everypony, huh? I just hope Lens sees it the way I do.” Silent was quiet for several minutes as he soaked in the words on the page, the gears turning in his head. His eyes then shot up to look at the date at the top of the entry. It had been written over three months ago. “I see. Lens, was it? That makes sense...” he muttered to himself before slipping the note and the map into one of his pockets and taking his leave from the house. As he stepped out and closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but smirk somewhat with pride. Scarlet’s actions made more sense to him, now, even if they were still foolish and inevitably futile. Silent would find them again, and he would not allow Primrose to get away again. And now, Silent had a clue as to where his prey was going. And that meant he could beat them there. Without a word, he leaped into the air and began the flight for the waterfront, where his team was waiting for him.