//------------------------------// // First Blood // Story: Dusk's Dangerous Game // by Airstream //------------------------------// Sweetie Belle came slowly awake at the sound of a careful knock on her door, a timid tapping that seemed less fearful of waking her and more fearful of waking others. Stirring the dusty cobwebs of sleep from her mind, she instinctively put her disguise back on and waited for another knock, half hoping that she had imagined the sound. Another knock, this one a bit louder, sounded at her door. Grumbling a bit, Sweetie Belle trotted over to the door, noting that her clock read a little past two in the morning. She opened it cautiously, peering around to see who had woken her. A nudge at her hoof caused her to jump slightly, and she slumped in exhaustion upon recognizing Cirrus, a small saddlebag slung over one shoulder. "Cirrus?" she said, making sure to mouth the words clearly. "What do you want?" The sky blue filly trotted into her room, hopping up on her bed, next to the small table by its side. She motioned for Sweetie Belle to close the door. Sweetie Belle, curious as to the actions of the young Pegasus, did so. After she had seen the door shut, Cirrus pulled out a sheaf of paper and a pen. She took the pen in her mouth, and, writing surprisingly quickly, sketched out a quick note in block letters, well formed but still retaining the crudeness of early hoofwriting. I need to talk to you. Sweetie Belle realized that whatever Cirrus had planned to discuss with her would be unsuitable for others to hear, especially at this time of night. Curious as to what the young filly could be planning, she nodded briefly and trotted over to the table, taking the pen. About what? Firstly, don't worry about what's on the paper. The ink will evaporate soon. Else I'd have brought more. I need to find out why you're really here. Sweetie Belle tried to hide her shock. How had Cirrus known that she had an ulterior motive? The Pegasus, seeing her poorly concealed reaction, wrote another sentence. I can't hear. Which means I pay attention to other things. Ponies tense up when they lie. I know. You've been lying a lot. And I can feel magic on you, all over. Rich ponies use the same kind to make themselves pretty. You don't really look like that, do you? Sweetie Belle shook her head. Deciding to take a leap of faith, she dispelled her illusion, revealing herself as she truly was for the first time in a few days. This is what I really look like. I'm here looking for somepony. Why do you need to know? Because ponies who get caught doing bad things here don't just hurt themselves, they hurt others. Oak Barrel and Copper Cask are nice to me. And I want to be nice back. You've got a lot of secrets. I'm mostly interested in who you're looking for. Sweetie hesitated a brief moment. She hated to do it, but if Cirrus tried to raise an alarm, she'd have to knock her out and flee the inn. Seeing no other way but forward, she scratched two letters. EF. The filly didn't look surprised. Yep. Thought so. You want to find out more about them, right? That's why you're here? I was contacted by them. I'm a reporter in Canterlot. I'm meeting some of them tomorrow, by the Tomb of the Paladin. That's closed tomorrow, the filly observed, looking at her. I've got a key. Lively must really want to talk to you, the Pegasus wrote, before realizing her error and trying to scratch it out. Too late.  Sweetie Belle looked at the filly, catching her in both hooves. Cirrus squirmed a bit, realizing she had been caught. Sweete Belle sat her down on the bed again, and wrote two words. Who's Lively? Cirrus sighed. Lively is the EF leader for that part of the city. And you know this how? Because I used to work for her before I came here. Sweetie Belle sensed that the whole truth was not being spoken. Or written. Used to? Or still do? Used to, I swear. She didn't want me around much, said it was too dangerous for me. So I left. But I can recognize when something's happening around here. Something is happening, something big. What do you mean? The pony who delivered your letter yesterday wasn't a pony. Which means that something's shifted in the city. A Changeling? The filly shrugged. Maybe. I can't tell. Maybe it was a Gryphon in disguise, I've seen those wandering around. Changelings are really good at hiding themselves. I'd say yes, though. Sweetie Belle thought about this. If a Changeling had approached her in Canterlot, and another one was waiting for her here in Trottingham, that either implied that the EF had already moved out of Canterlot, which seemed unlikely, or there were more Changelings here, in Trottingham. How many cities had been infiltrated by the emotional predators? Which prominent and powerful ponies had they replaced? And Changelings would never agree to work for Twilight without something in exchange. What had they been promised? Why are you telling me all of this? Because the more you know, the less chance you have of getting caught, and if you don't get caught, they won't trace it back here. Alright, I can believe that. What else? The Guards are out. Not just Regulars but Guards, and they're looking for something. Can't say what, though. I didn't get to see a lot, but I know there's a place where a bunch of EF ponies meet for some reason. Don't know where.  Last question. Do Oak Barrel and Copper Cask know about what you did before you arrived? This was the first time Sweetie Belle had seen Cirrus look at her with fear. No. They don't ask, I don't tell. Please, don't bring them into this. They're just trying to get by.  I'm not planning on it. Just wondering. I'm going to trust you tomorrow. If everything goes well, though, I'm begging you to please find somewhere else to stay. I've already lost two families, one that left me at the hospital and one in the EF. I can't lose them too. And be careful.  Sweetie Belle smiled.  I will be. You've got very good grammar and spelling for somepony your age, you know that? Cirrus grinned back. That's the thing about being deaf. Books mean worlds to you. And you can't help but pick some of that up. Now, I've got to get to bed before I'm missed. Good night, and good luck. And with that, she rolled up her parchment, depositing it gently in her bag. Sweetie could see the ink disappearing as it evaporated off of the pages. Moving quietly to the door, she opened it carefully before checking to make sure no one was in the hallway. Moving with surprising stealth, she slipped into the shadowy hall without a backward glance. Sweetie shut the door behind her, and turning her lantern down, she slipped back under the covers, falling back into dreamless sleep once more. It was mere hours later, at a quarter past ten, that Sweetie Belle packed her things and bid goodbye to the innkeepers and Cirrus. Initially they had protested her early leaving, but Sweetie Belle's gentle insistence that she wanted to go back home after concluding her business had served to sway their opinion on the matter, and soon she had set off, bags full and illusion firmly in place, towards the center of town and the Tomb of the Paladin. Cirrus had been right. If you paid close attention, certain parts of the city were definitely more tense than others. Groups of ponies were loitering in places where they really had no business being, none of them particularly friendly looking. Shop owners were glancing around at their wares nervously, wondering if they would have to protect their livelihoods once more. And Cirrus had been right about the Guard. Not watchponies, not Regulars, but elite Royal Guardsponies patrolled the streets, not in ones and twos, but in columns of ten and twelve, in full armor, faces set in stone and looking for trouble. But who was on whose side? Sweetie was suddenly quite aware of how some groups of soldiers surreptitiously looked the other way when approaching groups of ponies, probably informants or undercover police. She also caught sight of several ponies dragging one unfortunate into an alleyway, one who had been caught spying on the wrong organization. And unless she was very much mistaken, she saw a Guard, an actual Royal Guard, whose eyes glimmered with a faint green hue. She looked closely at his muzzle, and thought she might have possibly seen subtly hidden fangs. Approaching the Bronze Clock, she witnessed a protest involving two groups of ponies, ringing the base of the clock tower and waving signs in the faces of their opponents. Closer inspection revealed that both groups were of roughly equal size, but each had very different messages. One group held signs reading "Celestia Sue For Peace!" and "Two states, one solution!", clearly a group advocating for diplomacy among the two factions in this war. Another was much rowdier, holding up signs that stated things like "Twilight Sparkle, Answer for Your Crimes!" and "Ever Free shall Never Prosper!". It was getting ugly, and more and more Guards were arriving on the scene in an attempt to control the protests. Taking advantage of the distraction, Sweetie Belle swiftly crossed the river, arriving at the old stone monastery she had visited the previous day. Checking to make sure that she was not being observed, she slipped into the cloisters alongside the building, withdrawing the key from her saddlebags. She found the door, an old wooden thing that tapered to a point on top, like most doors in buildings like this did. A single hole was located in its center, just the right size for her key. It slid in neatly, turning with hardly a sound. Sweetie Belle was a bit disappointed at the lack of noise when she pushed the door open, as she had expected the portal to have opened with an appropriately dramatic squeal. Its hinges were well lubricated with beeswax, however, and it proved to be no trouble for her. Withdrawing her key, she stepped forward into the old stone walls of the monastery, closing the door tightly behind her, and relocking it from her side. She found herself in an old stone tunnel, way lit by cheerfully burning lanterns on the wall. They were lit pointing in one direction only, clearly indicating her path. She obediently followed her designated layout, winding through several passages that served only to thoroughly confuse her as to which direction she was traveling before finally ending up in the sanctuary from the other day. It was populated by only one other pony, wearing a robe of simple homespun brown fabric. It looked up at the sound of her approach just as the clocks truck twelve outside. The voice coming from under the hood was very familiar. "You're punctual. Good. I've got a schedule to keep to, and this robe itches like you wouldn't believe-" The voice cut off suddenly upon seeing her. "Hold on, you look familiar." Sweetie Belle felt herself go a bit weak at the knees. She dropped her illusion. "Heya, Scoots. How's it going?" Scootaloo moved remarkably fast, shedding the robe and embracing her tightly. "Luna preserve, Sweetie Belle. What are you doing here?" Sweetie Belle tried to maintain her composure. "Same thing as you, I imagine. Were you sent to deliver a package, or some documents?" "Yeah, to an anonymous leak, somepony who could get this stuff out into the public...wait, that's you? You're a reporter now?" Sweetie Belle nodded. "That's me. What about you, what is all this?" Scootaloo shook her head. "No time. We started that protest outside to distract the Guards, but I'm not sure if it worked." Sweetie cut in. "Wait, you touched off a riot as a distraction? Ponies could get hurt!" The orange Pegasus waved a hoof. "They won't be. It'll wind itself down in an hour or two." "That's not what I saw! Sure, the side supporting peace might do that, but those other ponies looked out for blood!" Scootaloo laughed a bit. "We set up both sides. They're paid ponies who show up, make noise, and run away. Harmless, distracting, and legal for everypony involved, mostly. Now, listen. You've got to get to ground after you leave here. This is sensitive stuff, and this could be very damaging if the wrong ponies got their hooves on it. Find someplace new to stay, use the new identity in there. We don't know how yet, but you've been tracked here. They're looking for you. A message was sent yesterday for you, hopefully it gave you a bit of a heads up." Sweetie Belle frowned. "What do you mean, I've been followed? I've been careful! I've used aliases, covered my tracks, made sure that nopony knows I'm here!" Scootaloo unbuckled the bags from her back. "Just like we have our intelligence ponies, so do they, Sweetie. You've been tracked by Moon Division since you left Canterlot. Just be glad Dawn hasn't decided to move on you yet, else we're both in trouble. Now, listen-" At that point the door to the abbey ceased to exist. It did not explode, or fall over, or get pulverized into dust. A spell of such power was cast that there was literally nothing left of the door. A massive roar of power filled the room, and both mares were thrown back with force enough that they skidded along the floor, colliding with the pillars behind them. Sweetie Belle got to her hooves shakily, just in time to see a group of Guardsponies walk through the opening. Each one a unicorn, they pointed their horns squarely at Sweetie and Scootaloo, who had already gotten to her hooves and had been attempting to charge the ponies before she realized what she was up against. One final pony walked through the door. Unlike the soldiers around her, she wore no armor. A simple rose-colored tunic, fastened with a bronze sun clasp, was the only thing that set her apart from any other pony on the street. Her wings were tucked delicately behind her back, and the noonday sun glinted off of her butter-yellow coat and fiery red mane. Sweetie Belle wasn't sure why, but she was far more frightened by this mare than any of the Guards surrounding her. When she spoke, her voice was kind and understanding, the sort of voice that you trusted as soon as you heard it. Sweetie Belle realized at that moment exactly how much trouble she was in. "Shit." Scootaloo muttered. The pony in question cleared her throat and spoke. "Sweetie Belle of Canterlot and Scootaloo of the Ever Free Rebellion, I hereby place you under arrest for treason and transfer you to the custody of the Dawn Divison of Her Serene Highness's Intelligence Service." She turned to the two ponies flanking her. "You may proceed." The two unicorns' horns spat with magic, and both of the would-be spies were unconscious before they hit the floor.