Newcanter castle was a truly impressive structure. Since its completion a few years after New Equestria’s independence was secured, it stood the test of time, weathering both nature and assault from unfriendly forces. Even in the low light of the moon and the stars, it stood proud as a beacon and a symbol, one that announced to the world at large that this nation, that Equestria, new or old, was here to stay.
To Silent Edge, however, it was little more than where he got his orders.
His eyes wandered over the tall towers and ramparts with an almost bored expression on his face as he searched for his destination. Countless flickering orange lights shined from the various windows or posts along the walls where ponies were yet awake in spite of the late hour. Every so often, a Dragon Sentinel or Nightblade could be seen on patrol, be it on the walls, in the grounds, or glimpsed through the windows.
None of that mattered to Silent. His destination was very different in appearance to the rest of the castle, and even the rest of Newcanter itself. It would be hard to take seriously in the day, and in the night, it was all but impossible to find if one did not know how to find it.
At long last, however, his keen eyes picked out a squat, square stone building at the end of a darkened, seemingly long-abandoned courtyard nestled between two of the larger keeps that made up the fortress. Nothing about it was eye-catching. It was bland, boring, and so old looking that, to any reasonable outsider, they would assume there was nothing of value. An abandoned garden, nothing more.
Silent knew better.
He tucked his wings close to his sides and entered into a quiet nose-dive for the courtyard. At the last possible second, he spread out his wings to slow his descent, coming to a feather-light landing in the very center. His hooves touched down on dusty cobblestone and soggy moss without a sound, his eyes glued onto the building in front of him.
“I always hated this place,” he thought to himself after a moment, scowling with irritation. “That my commanding officer should make his home, and the home of the Nightblades, in a place fit for naught but rats and cobwebs… had I not spent so many of my early years on these grounds, I would assume they were designed to mock me.”
Without a word, Silent stepped up to the wooden door set into the bottom of the tower. His eyes briefly flickered to one of the windows, seeing only darkness beyond. Unsurprising. The primary resident of this tower had no need for light, after all.
Silent pushed the door open with a hoof, a pale stream of moonlight filtering around him and painting a long, narrow square of the wooden floor with soft light. A few small motes of dust went drifting by, and the musty stench of stale air and fermenting fruit flooded his nostrils. The door creaked loudly, like a mouse’s teeth dragged against chalk.
Slowly, Silent stepped into the shadowy room before closing the door behind him. His eyes, despite having already adjusted to the night, were straining to pick out any details in the shrouded room. What few beams of light were let in by the windows were soft and subtle to the point of being useless.
That was, of course, until two purple eyes with slit pupils opened overhead, high above him in the rafters of the dilapidated room. Their owner was completely obscured in darkness, and they did not move an inch.
Silent unfurled his wings and folded them together over his chest while bowing his head in a solemn, centuries-old salute. “Spymaster Nocturn,” he greeted respectfully. “I have returned.”
The eyes stared at Silent for several long seconds before suddenly vanishing from view. Silent remained perfectly still, his ears standing at attention and all of his senses on high alert. Then, after almost a minute, hoofsteps to his left could be heard. He did not lift his head, however.
“At ease, Silent,” a silky, silvery smooth voice that hid a thousand intentions spoke as an off-black pony with large, leathery bat-like wings stepped into Silent’s line of sight. “Report. How did your personal errand go?”
Silent returned his wings to their sides and held his head high. “I have delivered my offer to Scarlet Frost and ensured that all avenues of escaping the city have been blocked. She is cornered,” he said simply, keeping his eyes locked onto those of the thestral in front of him. “I have confidence that Primrose will be in the custody of the council by this time tomorrow at the latest.”
Nocturn hummed, his sharp fangs briefly flashing in the moonlight. He turned and stepped back into the shadows, soon fading from Silent’s view entirely. “Then all that remains is to wait and see if your confidence is well-placed,” he said after a moment, his voice seemingly coming from everywhere at once.
Internally, Silent cringed and shuddered, both due to being intimidated, but more than that, because of the raw disdain he held for the pony speaking down to him and showing off like this.
“Is there anything else?” Nocturn’s voice cut through the darkness as he emerged again, this time with a simple wooden mug held in one hoof. The stench of fermented fruit grew stronger as he drew closer, to the point that Silent’s muzzle wrinkled in disgust. Nocturn did not seem at all perturbed by the look, though, his expression unchanging. “Go on, speak freely.”
Silent hesitated for a moment before slowly relaxing. He looked to one side and took a deep breath, clearing his nostrils with the far more preferable smell of dust and stale air. “It... would seem that Scarlet was not aware of the fact that Primrose is a changeling,” he began, his eyes lowering to the floor with indecision. It was a rare thing for him to truly care about the feelings of others. He hadn’t even felt any remorse about picking through Scarlet’s home for clues about her destination.
It was strange, then, that seeing her staring back at him in such a broken way… as if her whole world had just been shattered and torn apart in one fell swoop. It had stirred something in his heart he was uncomfortable thinking about. He looked back to Nocturn and continued. “When I left her there on the street, she was all but catatonic. The revelation seemingly came as a severe shock to her.”
Nocturn didn’t say anything at first, instead electing to sake a sip from his mug with an audible slurp. When his lips pulled away, his fangs were glistening with a faint sheen of red juice. “Does that trouble you, Nightblade?” he asked after a moment, one eyebrow slowly drifting up.
Silent looked down again. “It… does, sir. To see her in such a state, especially knowing how deeply she has come to care for the foal…” he sighed and shook his head. “I hope she makes the right decision. I do not wish to see her perish for the sake of a monster. Especially one that she did not know the truth about.”
Nocturn’s eyes flashed at Silent for a moment, reading his every word and movement with intense scrutiny. After a few seconds, the spymaster was seemingly satisfied before turning and vanishing into the darkness again.
Silent was quiet for a moment, a civil war raging within his thoughts. There was still the chance, however small, that Scarlet would side with Primrose in the end, and fight against him. He needed to find some way of quelling that possibility and ensuring her cooperation. Maybe...
Before he could stop himself, Silent was taking a step after Nocturn. His words came out more direct and confident. “Nocturn, sir, with all due respect, wouldn’t this process become significantly easier and faster if we told them about the one we have in-”
His words died in his throat when Nocturn spun back around to face him, his eyes narrowing and cowing the Nightblade into biting his tongue. Silent immediately regretted speaking up, his ears folding back. After several seconds of an intense, borderline predatory glare, Nocturn stepped back into the light with a disapproving scowl. “Silent Edge, you know full well that such immoral behavior is what cost you your chance at being the Spymaster at the end of the war.”
Silent nodded. “The murder of Talonreach’s mad king. I am well aware of my past actions, Nocturn. I do not need to be reminded of them…”
“Evidently, you do,” Nocturn shot back, making Silent take another step back. “You lashed out in anger and rage. While one could argue that the death of that mad griffon won us the war, in the end, it remains abundantly clear that it was not necessary. We had them cornered and under siege, and you used that as an excuse to get revenge for the death of your teacher. That is not our way, Silent.”
Silent remained true to his name, his expression turning darker and darker with every word the spymaster said. “Who does he think he is to lecture me on this matter? The bastard had it coming!” he thought before opening his mouth to speak aloud. “With all due respect, sir, we are assassins. Our line of work is based on secrecy, lies, and killing. We are not morally good ponies.”
“No, we are not,” Nocturn agreed with a slow nod. “But we are only as evil as we have to be to preserve our home and our way of life. We do not kill without cause or out of anger, we do not lie without cause, and we do not use the lives of others as leverage to force our enemy into doing our bidding. It is cowardly, dishonorable, reprehensible, and, lest you forget, those very acts of malevolence were what led to the Fall. So long as I am the spymaster, I will not allow my Nightblades to replicate and perpetuate such baseless evils. Do I make myself clear?”
Silent’s teeth ground together behind his lips with frustration for several seconds. Then, with a defeated sigh and grimace, he looked away. “...Yes, sir. Perfectly.”
Nocturn’s eyes bored intensely into Silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, his expression steadily softened with understanding. He took a few steps forward until he was right in front of him. “I get it, Silent, I do. You are eager to finally complete this mission and receive the promotion my predecessor promised to you. It is only natural that you wish to hurry things along and be done with it. But this is the most critical step. The manner in which you conduct yourself here, in this city, at the end of your task, will be weighed far more heavily than anything that came before.”
Silent withheld his wince when Nocturn’s hoof found his shoulder. He glanced up into the thestrals eyes to find the other stallion smiling back at him.
“And so none of this can be rushed. Be patient, be careful, and above all else, conduct yourself with the excellence and moral integrity expected of anypony in service to New Equestria. Do that, and I will happily relinquish my seat to you upon the completion of your mission.”
Silent was quiet for a few seconds, his brow furrowing with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. In the end, he settled for a slow, subtle nod. Nocturn was right, of course. There were eyes watching him here, and he could not afford to screw any of this up in front of them. “Understood, sir. I will keep that in mind.”
Nocturn’s smile faded, and he withdrew his hoof. “Good. I look forward to seeing your performance in the days to come. Now go and get some rest,” he commanded lightly, turning to head back into the shadows. “Depending on what that old friend of yours decides to do, you will need it.”
And just like that, Nocturn completely disappeared from Silent’s senses. The pegasus took in a deep breath before giving another salute and slipping back out into the cold night. The door clicked shut behind him, and he was left all alone with nothing more than his thoughts to keep him company.
The quiet around him dragged on and on. Silent’s eyes drifted up to look at the moon, his lips contorting into a grim frown. “Scarlet… for both of our sakes, I hope you do the right thing,” he whispered to himself.
He then lifted from the courtyard on his wings, flying into the air and vanishing from sight between the towers of Newcanter Castle.