//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Reverie (Faith) // Story: Fair Flight // by Baryski //------------------------------// Anypony could become an excellent assassin, that was one of the founding principles of membership.  True, some had the potential to become amazing, but they could all be excellent.  Creed never went out of its way to recruit a member like this.  They took the easy ones, the ones no pony missed, or even saw.  They took the ones they could from hospitals, the parents expecting complications.  Divisions, especially, never had to get their own members.  They would select from pre picked ponies.  Elite divisions had their picks, whichever pony they wanted, even ones already in other divisions. It was important to remember that, because there were some times exceptions.  Exceptions such as finding a completely orphaned filly in the aftermath of a warzone.  It was a small scale warzone, the remains of Mazetail after the failed griffon invasion, but the simple point was that there was no pony left.  No pony except the little filly who had been hiding under the rubble of a small house, assumably her own, and who had somehow survived the past week in hell. In the years since that filly had come to be a part of his division, Herb had revisted that day countless times.  She had been much older than the traditional recruit at the time, at least four or five.  But, the circumstances had been advantageous enough to allow her to fit in.  The filly had forcefully repressed any memories from before their meeting, most likely to not have to relive losing her family.  In either case, she hadn’t even had a name, nor had she spoke for much of the first year. Later on, long after Herb had given her a name, he had discovered her real name and even that of her family.  Wall Shine, he had thought about telling that filly all about what he had found out.  But, she never seemed to care about her past.  For her, Justice Ann Faith, that was her only name and he was her only family. The old colt chuckled to himself for a minute.  Justice and faith; it was a pathetic pun.  It was worse to name a young mare who would grow up as a killer with those kinds of virtues.  It hadn’t taken long for it to get shortened to Just Faith, another pathetic joke Herb had come up with.  But, that joke had always made the filly smile. “Okay, how about we call you Just Faith instead?” “Why Just Faith?” “Because you are my Faith.  Just my Faith.” It had been so long ago that there were less that half a dozen who knew that little filly’s full name now.  She seemed to like it better this way, anyway.  Of course, the filly had been calling him father for longer than she’d actually had a name.  It wasn’t impossible to understand, he’d rescued her and provided for her.  She’d repressed her real parents, so she replaced them with him. Other members didn’t have this problem, they’d never had parents.  They were taught from birth to refer to masters appropriately.  No matter how much chastising Herb did in public, she never failed to call him such in private, and he didn’t hate it either.  He should have, it wasn’t professional, but he couldn’t fault her for it.  She was determined, talented, and sharp as a spur.  He couldn’t have asked for a better daughter if she was actually his. The quill was picked up again, the book finally opened.  Words danced across the back two pages.  For having started later than most, that little filly had grown up remarkably quickly.  Herb had taught her combat and the art of all sorts of substances.  In just a few years she had become a pony that could pick up any weapon and still stand on an equal ground.  But, there were some things that couldn’t be accomplished by a blade or a poison. That’s where Rose had come in.  Rose Breaker was an expert in just about anything that required subtlety or finesse.  She wasn’t entirely enthralled by Creed, but that filly had captured her heart the first time Herb had brought her to the store.  Faith’s lessons with Rose settled around the finer arts, etiquette, acting, and presentation amongst them.  Creed hardly considered these to be important, a killer could kill without knowing which fork went into the salad.  But, these kinds of talents were vital on deep cover operations.  Besides, Herb had ulterior motives. Once or twice he had caught Rose prattling on about the romanticized real world during the lessons.  It was painfully obvious she had done it more than just those few times, and that suited his wishes just fine.  Rose, was the perfect mother figure to teach that child what Creed would never allow her to learn.  Some of those lessons, though, didn’t sink in as well as he had hoped. She was no longer an apprentice by fourteen, a feat very few ponies could attest to.  Her first solo kill, her graduation exam as it was, was a little tougher than he would have liked to give her.  She’d come back with more than a few wounds, even a chunk missing from her left ear.  It was a necessary evil, Herb couldn’t keep her holed up her entire life.  More importantly, she wanted to be more.  No matter what stories she heard, that little filly only wanted to be helpful. In the years that had passed since then, Faith had grown only more skilled and determined.  She had put any notions Rose might have given her out of her mind, but kept the skills.  Herb could deal with that.  It did hurt, though, that she kept moving further and further away from herself.  It had been a habit of hers, as of late, to refer to mares as if she wasn’t even one.  Maybe it was some kind of a coping mechanism, or it could have just been her repressing another more difficult fact.  In the end, it hardly mattered. He set down the quill, closing the dusty bindings of the book and sighing.  The book took it’s place in an empty saddlebag.  Faith was good, maybe too good.  Sometimes he wished he could get the little filly who used to smile when he rubbed her back, or the one who could barely pick up a throwing dagger, much less spear a pony in the heart with one at one hundred paces.  But, progression was inevitable and he had started those wheels turning oh so long ago. The knocking echoed through the door.  Minutes, or maybe even hours, passed as Herb waited on the other side.  The night air was bitter, it felt a lot like that day, except there were no burning buildings to radiate their heat.  Finally the door to the modest building opened, revealing the crimson maned mare on the other side. “Herb?  What are doing around at this forsaken hour?” “I think we both know the answer to something like that Rose,” His voice fidgeted as he waited for the inevitable invitation.  They both knew it was coming.  Rose couldn’t ignore a request from an old friend, even if it was 2am. “All right then, come on in,” The mare stopped blocking the doorway allowing him to finally step into the modest home.  You never mix business with pleasure, it was a silly little rule, but Rose refused to use most of the bits she made on herself.  Besides, she always claimed she was perfectly comfortable in this tiny home, “I’ll put on some tea if you would like some.” “Of course,” You never discuss important business without tea, another silly rule, but at least Rose made excellent tea.  It was a few minutes of pleasantries and awkward catching up before the mare finally levitated out the pot along with two of her larger tea cups.  The intention was simple, this was going to take a while and she didn’t want to repour a lot. “So, Herb,”  She paused, letting the aroma of the tea fill her nostrils before taking a sip.  It was a delicious blend this time, something that seemed to be from pretty far east, “You didn’t just come here to catch up and have a good old romp.  What is it that’s eating you, sweetie?” “Do you ever think, Rose?  Just, think?” “Of course I think sweetie.  In my line of work I think all the time,” Herb finally took a sip of his own tea.  Truthfully he was never much a fan of tea, a trait he had passed on to Faith, but he cherished every cup he could afford during visits like this. “How long have we known each other?” “Long enough for me to know what’s bothering you,” She didn’t much care for the meandering topic.  But, they both knew exactly what this visit was for already, “It’s been awhile since you’ve waxed philosophic for me, Herb.” “I’ve been doing it a lot lately.  One of the curses of getting old I suppose.” “If that’s a curse, then I’ll take it every day,”  She paused, letting the sombre air grow between them, “And twice on Sunday.” “Do you remember when I first brought Faith to meet you?” A small laugh escaped those elegantly parted lips.  How could she not?  The filly had spent half the time cowering behind Herb and the other half running around touching just about every item in the store, “As much as I love a good trip down memory lane, sweetie, why don’t you get down to the point?” The old book was finally removed from his saddlebag and placed next to the pot of tea, “I never could argue semantics with you Rose.  I have a favour to ask of you.” The mare glanced over the book before going right back to her tea.  She wanted no more of that dreadful tome, “So, you came here to ask me to dispose of that horrid thing once and for all?” “Close, I came here to ask you to give it to Faith when she’s ready.” “Isn’t that supposed to be a job for the master,”  Rose had already known exactly what he planned, she always knew Herb.  That didn’t mean she liked the idea any more, “You know, from master to apprentice passed down?” “Maybe it is, but I imagine you would do a far better job than me.” “So then you plan to force it onto her just like it was forced onto you?  I thought you were different than that Herb.” It was finally his turn to laugh with a bit of mirth.  The book had indeed been forced onto him a long time ago when he inherited it from his master.  A sordid tale of history that had never been or could never be, “It is different this time around.  Take a look.” He flipped over the book to the final pages, the fresh ink on the very last page displaying his greatest accomplishment, “No more pages,” The words had almost as much pride as the day he found that filly, “From here out, she makes her own history now.” “You damn colt,” She shared in his laugh if only for a moment, “Even after all these years you still have a few tricks up your sleeve.” “All good fathers do.” “So,”  The tea was set aside, the book taken to the back room by her crimson magical glow, and one last question was asked, “Think you have time for one last romp for old times sake?” ************** “Ally, did you get it?”  The heavily influenced accent called out across the hall.  Xander, that pony just did not know how to give up. “You mean the snack?  Yes, they were quite delicious,” Of all the accents she had to use, Faith wasn’t particularly happy with the Stalliongrad one.  It made her sound like she was either trying to seduce everypony or eat them.  Most colts couldn’t pull it off either, leaving only a few in this entire organization that didn’t leave her wanting to bash her head into a tree just from having a conversation with them.  Xander was not one of those few, “And, I told you to call me Alexa, not Ally.” “Those roses were supposed to be a gift.  To ask you out,” Of course they were, Faith wasn’t stupid.  She also wasn’t interested.  Eating them was a solution to at least two potential problems. “I told you before Xander.  I’m not going to date one of my trainees,”  It was the best excuse she had in an organization like this.  Hell, you’d think half these colts had never seen a mare before her.  Or, that all the mares they had seen were completely backwards.  Okay, considering the few others Faith had interacted with in the last few months, she could understand the enamorment.   “Then, if I become a full enforcer,” The poor pony was delusional.  But, this entire organization was delusional.  Poni prevoskhodstvo, a group dedicated to liberating Stalliongrad and gaining their autonomy.  It sounded like a wonderful dream, too bad half of the backers were common thugs and crime syndicates.  Even if they ever did manage to succeed, the new country would just become a haven for crooks bilking every bit out of the ponies who lived there, “I’m definitely going to get that date out of you Ally.” “You keep thinking that,” Faith was cut off by another pony in front of her.  Nova, that pitch black unicorn, had been her very first trainee when she’d arrived.  Unlike most of them, he’d had obvious skills.  Now, he was one of the best in the entire organization.  You could say countless things about how there was no way they were ever going to succeed, but Nicoli had a way of attracting some really talented ponies to his side.  It was that ability that had warranted him being watched by Lore in the first place.  One day the order would come in to execute him as well. “Alexa, Nicoli needs to discuss something very important with you.”  Unlike many of the others Nova was never really enamored with her.  Even as a trainee he managed to keep the relationship mostly professional.  Faith could respect that about the pony.  He would have made a half decent Creed in another life.  She almost wished there was a way to not have to kill him when the time came.  Almost.   As the two walked from the general quarters into the great hall silence was golden.  It was so much easier to deal with ponies when they preferred not to talk.  The great hall itself was only allowed to upper echelon members.  It was amazing to think how much this group had grown to trust her in just the last 18 months.  Faith had been allowed access only three months after she had joined.  But, Nicoli had been impressed by the ability she had.  Not to mention the highly trustworthy ponies who had vouched for her.  Anything could be bought or coerced. To the right, on the far end, one of the average meeting rooms.  Of course, average had a different meaning to the ponies in Stalliongrad.  The hall was intricately designed and could have accommodated the princess’ personal carriage.  The room was likewise uselessly ornate.  For an interrogation room, things like chandeliers were pointless to a fault.  Of course, it wasn’t usually an interrogation room, but today it was doubling as one. In the middle of the room, underneath the ornate glass chandelier, was a cloaked and robed pony tied to an equally posh chair.  He didn’t look worse for wear, but these weren’t torturers.  They were too kind for that type of nasty business.  Still, the cloak was instantly obvious.  Creed, they had caught a Creed.  The obvious reality, they had caught one delivering the kill order to Faith.  But, the meetings were never like this, and never with members in assassin gear. “One of our enforcers you trained found this pony planting explosives around the perimeter,” Nicoli spoke up from behind the chair.  He was a short earth pony, unremarkable by many standards, with only a short black mane and a strangely mangled tail to offset the ridiculous concept of his cutie mark.  Faith knew she should be worried, but at the same time she felt some pride in her work.  To be able to catch a Creed was no small feat, even for the ponies she trained.  Then it came, Nicoli set down the piece of paper she had been expecting, only it wasn’t what Faith had been expecting. “He had this on him,” Faith stared dumbfounded at the piece of paper for a few seconds.  Instead of the kill order for Nicoli, it was her own kill order.  This Creed had come here specifically to kill her.  It didn’t make sense, not even in the slightest.  He mind tried to snap back, she was still in cover, betrayal wasn’t something the ponies around here should see from her, “Do you have something to tell me Alexa?” Nicoli, for all his funny looks and posturing was only a few years older than Faith, maybe five or six.  That cutie mark that looked so hilariously out of place on his frame was perfectly understandable when he talked, the royal sceptre of Stalliongrad.  For a pony that looked like him, that was as young as him, when Nicoli spoke ponies listened.  He had a voice very similar to father in some ways.  He always knew enough to know what he was looking for in the conversation and was wise enough to steer if how he wanted.  It was hardly surprising, when you took this into account, that he commanded the respect he did. “Yes,” Faith was backed into a corner.  Nicoli already knew the truth, trying to keep the cover wasn’t going to accomplish anything.  Creed had a target on her head for one reason or another.  There was nothing left, except to explain the truth and try to figure out the next move from there, “What you see there, it’s all true.  I am indeed a Creed assassin of Lore division.  I’ve been undercover here since the first day you met me, watching and waiting to see if they would put a kill order on your head Nicoli.” She was weaponless and in a room with three of her previous graduates.  Faith could maybe take a couple out, maybe even all of them, but she wasn’t going to leave the grounds alive if Nicoli didn’t want it, “Thank you.” The words were sincere from Nicoli.  Truth was something he valued.  It wasn’t likely he was happy about being deceived, but he gave her the opportunity to come clean.  Now, he was walking around to the tied up Creed.  He carefully removed the ponies hood and smiled hopefully at him, “Now, my friend.  Would you care to repeat, for her, what you told us?” “Lore division,” The pony laughed, he laughed heartily, “Lore division is gone.  They’re all dead.  We killed them all, and that little Alexa of yours is next.  Not like it matters, you’ll kill her yourself.” Nicoli was normally a patient man.  He had obviously been patient with this Creed and broken him in his own special way, with words.  Words were effective for some ponies, sometimes more effective than the strongest blade or the most amazing spell.  Besides that, there was little reason to doubt the words of the Creed.  He was going to die, and he was right, they would kill Faith themselves.  At least, Faith truly believed that right up until Nicoli slapped the pony right across his jawline. “We will deal with things in our own way,”  Nicoli’s words didn’t matter.  Faith was already on the verge of losing control.  Her mind flipped through it all.  Lore, all of Lore, had been targeted by a kill order?  Her entire family was dead, even father?  She knew a killer wasn’t supposed to have emotions, but she could feel the tears streaming down.  She could feel the fire in her hoof as she raced over and punched the Creed.  The next few moments were a blur of hatred and righteous fury until she found herself outside the room, with Nicoli beside her. “Hooftail took my entire family away,” She seethed with anger.  The mark of the division was clear enough on the order.  In reality, there was some part of her that knew Hooftail wouldn’t have planned this type of thing on their own.  The orders probably came from higher up, but anger was all she had left now.  She wanted somepony to be responsible, to die, “They want me dead, you want me dead Nicoli.” “A pony without a family left, that is truly sad,” Nicoli completely ignored the last part.  He had no intention of killing her.  Why, Faith herself was in no condition to figure out.  She was hardly in the mood to listen to Nicoli, “Why not stay, be our family?  As Alexa, or as Faith.” “Why,” The words were harder now, choking up with anger.  But, Nicoli never had that problem.  How could he remain cool in situations when a cold blooded killer couldn’t, “Why would you offer me such a thing?” “Because, whether we realize it or not, we all deserve to be happy.” Happy, happiness was one of those emotions assassins didn’t have.  Killers had no use for happy, but Nicoli always saw one step deeper, “I’m sorry Nicoli, I can’t accept something like that.  Hooftail took everything from me.  The least I can do is take everything from them.” “Then what will you do, Faith?” “I’ll go, confirm what he said with my own eyes,” She turned away.  Alexa was gone, the accent was gone, compassion was gone.  She was still crying, but she had every intent to eliminate Hooftail, maybe more than that.  Maybe she wouldn’t stop till she destroyed Anima on her own.  She didn’t even know, “If it’s true, I’ll destroy Hooftail with my own hooves.  I’ll make them pay.” “You know, you could always have a family here if you don’t find your happiness at the bottom of a pool of blood.” “That was pretty much everything.  Revenge is easier than life.  I’m doing the things I was taught never to do because I don’t have anything left.  All I know is killing.  Even if I didn’t die here, I don’t know happiness.  I don’t know if I ever will.”