//------------------------------// // Failure // Story: Lost In The Light Of Shadows // by Satsuma //------------------------------// Dusk had, more than once, made comparisons between his current task and trying to walk through the Everfree at night. You would stumble often on a collection of roots, small bushes and animal burrows, occasionally hit your head on a low hanging branch or have it smothered by a suspended clump of moss. And if you were exceptionally unlucky, one of the resident creatures of the Everfree would decide to come after you, and you would have to run away full-tilt, sometimes straight into a tree, or something worse. That was what his task could be likened to. A collection of obstacles and fated misfortunes, little problems which created from their commonplace occurrences problems that could halt Dusk in his tracks. It had more than once reduced him to literally groping around in the dark, at an utter loss as to how to carry on. But through all the trials and tribulations, he got to know the forest a little better each day. He could tell the plants apart from each other, and how one related to the other and held the whole bunch together in a strange totality. And he knew which tree he wanted. He also knew that the vegetation was just too dense for him to force his way through to it. He had to find a break in the foliage to be able to claim his prize. And he was almost certain that his lucky break was coming soon. He had gotten a chance to read Twilight’s schedule for the week, and found that she had arranged to settle some paperwork for the mayor, something to do with a number of re-locations to Ponyville. She had also included several predictions, none of which were very cheery. The first was that the task would take up an evening and the following morning till midday, starting sometime Wednesday evening, in two days. The second was that she was ‘highly unexpectant that the large amount of time-intensive secretary work would yield any satisfaction’. Despite her somewhat gloom-and-doom predictions, Dusk was still acutely aware of her obsessive-compulsive disposition towards her tasks, and could make a tried and tested prediction of his own that she would stay up till the dead of night trying to finish up as much as possible. It would be the perfect time for him to finally make his move. The stars had finally aligned. Dusk, however, was still trying to make up his mind. This was, from his experience so far, a rare occurrence and by far the most likely to lead to success. Needless to say, an opportunity like this wasn’t likely to come very often, and every day that Dusk spent monitoring the situation brought him another day closer to being detected. It wasn't just a likelihood, it was an eventuality. On the other hand, he wanted to ease his own fears by gathering more information, and being more well-informed. Good things, after all, came to those who wait. At least, that was what he told himself. There existed, at a level of secrecy that he himself could not breach, the truth that he had yet to come to terms with his task, with the idea of using another living being for the purpose of his survival, the antithesis of morality which his actions would represent. Sure, up till now it amounted to simply stalking someone, albeit very well, very professionally, completely, and very, very disturbingly, but that was it. Plenty of people got stalked, all the time. Heck, celebrities were stalked all the time. But this…this brought it up to another level, from an action that the society considered frowned upon and forgivable to something that was utterly despicable and which it aimed to eradicate fully. The inner turmoil manifested itself in his sub consciousness as a vague and impassable obstacle, undoing his logical reasoning and strategic planning from the bottom up. True to his ‘usual’ habits, he had kept himself too busy in the past few weeks or so to even think clearly, with most of his actions determined as much by well-honed principles and instincts as by on-the-fly planning and spontaneous adaptations to the somewhat erratic behaviour of his subject of observation. He hadn’t had time to ponder on his task for a long, long while, and he would have liked to keep it that way, had the current circumstances not necessitated the involvement of his higher level functions in the current circumstances. Dusk was essentially brain dead for the next day and or so, struggling with a morality he was not sure he had or should have…which created some very risky situations. It started in the morning, as he did his usual surveillance of Ponyville from the safety of the forest, this time in a small bush that was growing small dark purple berries. He had just happened to look in the direction of that small hut, occupied by a lone butter-coloured Pegasus female. He recognized her as one of the Elements, and thought that he might as well track her. She was walking on the dirt road on the way to town, and stopped to greet the large beet-red stallion working on moving carts of apples in from surrounding orchards. Dusk couldn’t help but notice that both their cheeks reddened as she continued on her way, and smirked in amusement. That was when it happened. He received a sharp kick in the back of the head, and swiveled around in alarm, a hoof reaching behind to nurse the spot where he had been struck agressively, though the kick was quite light. Standing on his back behind him was a very cross-looking snow-white bunny, tapping its oversized right foot on his back and crossing its arms. Currently, it kicked him again, right in the snout. Dusk, annoyed by the small gesture of pointlessly ineffective and misplaced loyalty, spread his wings, with their full complement of very sharp weapons, and was about to fillet the annoying little ball of fluff, who currently stared in wide-eyed astonishment. Then his morality took hold. Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little piece of timberwolf kindling like him without needing to kill. He grabbed the little monster in firmly in his hooves, being careful not to crush its forepaws, and flung it in an arc aimed at the river, which was not far in front of him. The little bunny let out a high-pitched and barely audible squeal as it flew like a well-aimed snowball toward the river, with its long ears trailing comically behind it and causing it to spin in midair. Dusk sniggered maliciously as the little animal landed in the river with a soft plop. He heard a rustling and turned to look behind once more, expecting to see another small woodland creature ready to assault him. He didn’t know how wrong he was. At first, he struggled to make out the large, hulking figure, silhouetted against what sunlight filtered in through the forest canopy, but he had suspicions, none of which were good. No, it can’t be. I must be seeing things… Unfortunately, a low and rather menacing growl confirmed his predictions. Dusk spent the rest of the morning playing a exceedingly dangerous game of hide-and-seek with a very angry bear, which, for the later part of their ‘game’, carried furious and rather bossy little white rabbit on its head. It seemed to a tired and bedraggled Dusk that after a few long, tense and exhausting hours, the blasted carnivore and its little vermin charge had finally disappeared, having lost interest or simply given up after having directed their anger somewhere. As he foraged through the undergrowth for his gear, abandoned where they were when he fled or dropped while he was being chased around, he promised himself that the next time he saw that thing, he would just snap its neck without hesitation. He didn’t exactly find his gear in the bushes. Not completely anyway. The binoculars were crushed and missing several parts which had been stomped into oblivion by the bear. His directional microphone was in a similarly irreparable state. His camouflage netting was torn in several locations…which kinda made it look more like a carpet of nettles, but that was besides the point. That was it. His entire operation was screwed now. There would be no way to carry on surveillance like this. Any more time spent here would only lead to a higher chance of detection. And he had no one else to blame but himself, not even the damn rabbit, or that damn mare. Only himself. His anger, simmering over from the harrowing morning’s unfortunate and honestly coincidental events, opened a whole new window to himself that he never saw before. It had started when he had looked into Twilight Sparkle’s library. Sure, it had been a lucky break, but in reality it shouldn’t have been worth it. It had been sheer stupidity, tempting fate with his unnecessary curiosity. His weakness, his self-indulgence, had been the root of his problems for his past few hours. He had just been looking for an excuse to watch the damn mare, nothing more. It was fair to say that he had his chance to fix his screw-ups too. All he had to do was kill a little white rabbit. And he wasn’t even competent enough to do that, not strong enough to overcome the least bit of worthless sentimentality. It didn’t matter that the bear might have come after him anyway. It was still part of his failure. It wouldn’t have been his fault anymore. He would just have been a victim of circumstance. This morning was all the proof he needed that he needed to be more ruthless with himself than ever. It had also forced his course of action. There would be no more waiting from now on. It was time to do something, and he knew exactly where, when and how to do it. Tomorrow, sometime late in the night, he would have to capture Twilight Sparkle, and though he didn't consciously acknowledge, redeem himself. Somehow. Twilight had resumed her noonday vigil of hurried trotting around the library, magically levitating books and personal items from her surroundings, hardly sparing each individual object a sidewise glance before shoving them, sometimes in her rush, with more force than necessary, into their allotted spaces. Books floated up daintily off the wooden flooring and shuffled themselves in a self-sorting spell of her own invention, until they formed a neat, perfectly alphabetically arranged column. A vase of flowers emptied itself into the kitchen sink before filling itself up in the running tap amid a stack of soapy porcelain dishes, catching the light of a sunbeam originating from the nearby open window. Twilight wouldn’t often have been this flustered, but her evening cleanup sessions would be overwritten by the Mayor’s request to process paperwork. The only solution was to take her usually well-paced schedule and try to squeeze more in. Spike, hardworking as he was, tried to continue his job regardless of the working conditions, sorting out Twilight’s loose ends and paying attention to the little details of the room while she took care of things at large. Ever so often, she would lose control of a few books, or forget that she was supposed to sweep the floor and not the ceiling. Sometimes he just provided an additional claw to pull open drawers or cabinet doors, or to slot books into the existing stacks, guiding them with a well-practiced accuracy into their various spaces, as they levitated by as if on conveyor belts. All of that while keeping out of the way of the massive amount of objects whizzing past. Spike currently yelled and went prone on the floor as a stubby holder chock full of scissors and pen knives tipped, over and its contents were promptly lost in Twilight’s whirlwind of telekinetic magic, racing around her room without her attention. He yanked a large stainless steel kitchen pot from the fray and diving underneath it, with only his tail poking out and the front end lifted slightly to provide him with a line of sight. ‘Twilight!’ he yelled, trying to be heard when Twilight was shutting everything else out. ‘Not now, Spike! Can’t you see I’m busy?’ Spike, used to this by now, sighed and was about to offer a rebuttal when Twilight continued to chide him. ‘I already told you, if you want to take a nap, you’re free to go ahead. Now please,’ she stepped forward with her eyes closed and teeth bared in concentration, Spike cringing when an uncovered razor blade shot within inches of her head, ‘I need to concentrate!’ Sighing again, he crawled slowly and painfully with the pot on his back to the notice board in the corner, the pot emanating dull metallic pings whenever it was struck by any of the miscellaneous projectiles. A particularly wet and heavy washcloth swept by, taking the pot with it, and Spike dove under a nearby coffee table (also wood), which was mercifully empty. He turned it sideways to face the oncoming tide and continued to inch his way to the wall. Three soft raps on the heavy oakwood door somehow made its way through the cacophony that was modified daily afternoon cleanup routine. Twilight stopped short and stared at the door, all the objects held in place, much to Spike’s relief. Then the translucent purple aura around her horn faded. The magic held for a moment, before relinquishing its grip on the other objects in the room. They landed with an assortment of clatters, bangs and squelches, sometimes breaking with a sharp clink. Spike pulled himself out of the rubble, then promptly lost his balance and fell over, a large and particularly stiff cushion impaled on his slick green spines tipping him upside down. He spotted the set of sharp objects and a roll of duct tape which had fallen nearby, grabbed both sets of items and stuck them together in a single bundle before yanking a cupboard door open and tossing it in, throwing the door shut crossly afterwards. Twilight scowled at him, then gently swung the front door open to reveal Fluttershy, currently stooped over and conversing…or at least, having anything as close to a conversation as possible, with Angel. "What? Angel, slow down! You know I can’t understand morse code when it's that fast! What do you mean that’s my problem? Oh, Angel just repeat it would you? To Twilight? Just once, please? Twilight"’ she turned to her friend, flustered and somewhat disheveled, her mood palpable, before continuing. "I need your help." Twilight rubbed a hoof over the back of her head, her puzzlement pertaining to the queer circumstances before her eyes. "Sure, what do you need?" Fluttershy motioned to her pet. "He’s been trying to tell me something, quite urgently, but I don’t understand morse code. Not that well, anyway. If I remember correctly, you do, right?" Her tone changed, becoming firmer and holding some substantially increased authority. "Angel, would you repeat whatever you said earlier to Twilight, please?" The little white rabbit responded with a grudging nod of his head and proceeded to tap his large right foot on the ground, with a varying order of short and long pauses in between. This sequence was sometimes punctuated with an "carry on" or "repeat that please?" from Twilight. Eventually Angel stopped tapping, and Twilight placed a hoof on her chin, her gaze glazing over in deep thought. "This is either quite disturbing, or I’m over-reacting as usual." "What did he say, Twilight?" Fluttershy had calmed down and Spike had appeared in the doorway by now, cushion still on his head. "Well…Angel says that there was somepony watching the town from the Everfree. I usually wouldn’t have been too worried, except that I had a hunch I saw something there too, earlier this week, I think. Remember?" Fluttershy nodded meekly in response. "There’s just one more detail, which I’m not sure may be relevant," she continued. All three other parties in the conversation nodded and stared in wide-eyed expectation. "Fluttershy, on both occurrences…he was watching you." The group stopped in awkward silence, Fluttershy’s eyes only growing wider, while Twilight continued to mull over the information. Spike rolled his eyes, muttered something, and headed back into the library, where he started sorting through the mess and trying to isolate any other sharp objects or flammable chemicals, among other hazards. "Well," she continued after another moment, "I’m fa-a-airly sure it’s nothing more than a stalker." Fluttershy started turning her head wildly around in alarm, then asked, almost inaudibly, "A stalker? What’s that? It sounds…dangerous…" Twilight giggled. "Well, most of the time, they’re not dangerous. They’re just over-enthusiastic fancolts…most of the time. The worst they can do is violate your privacy. And I wouldn’t worry about that…from what Angel told me, he and somepony named Honeysuckle gave him quite a bad scare. But they lost him in the end." She placed a reassuring hoof on her friend’s shoulder, as the latter straightened up slightly and brushed her coat off, averting her gaze in slight embarrassment. Fluttershy’s frown still stayed on her brow, though. "Well…" she started, "I’m still a little worried by the sound of that, to be completely honest with you." Twilight was about to try and dissuade her worrying friend yet again, before considering the validity of her claims regarding her right of insecurity. ‘"Now that you mention it, you do live alone at the edge of the woods, out of earshot of anypony else." She shuddered, and then went back to thinking. After a moment, she perked up, pointing towards the ceiling, and exclaimed loudly in the usual overstated fashion. "That’s it!" Spike turned to Fluttershy, and behind Twilight’s back, traced tiny circles at his temple, rolling his eyes yet again. Fluttershy offered an almost unnoticeable lifting and falling of her shoulders in return, her version of a shrug. Twilight grabbed Fluttershy by both shoulders and shook her back and forth, beaming at the latter. At Fluttershy and Angel’s protests, and at Spike’s attempts at restraint she relinquished her grip, while Fluttershy held herself steady on the doorframe to stop herself from swaying around. "That’s it," Twilight repeated. "You can stay here tonight!" Fluttershy cleared her throat, "Thank you for the offer, Twilight, really, but I wouldn’t want to bother you any more than I have—". "Oh, it’s no trouble, really! I’m going to be out of the house for most of tonight, anyway, so you can help me look after Spike in exchange for your lodging!" The Element of Kindness drew a few small circles on the floor with her forehoof. "Well…now that you put it that way…" Twilight bounded up to her in Pinkie-esque hops. "Well? Do we have a deal?" Fluttershy deliberated before asking, "can Angel stay too?" "Well, why not?" "Deal." Derpy chose this moment to smash through a window on the opposite side of the library, careening towards the two other ponies. Spike dove out of the way and cursed loudly before biting his tongue. Twilight hastily teleported herself, Fluttershy and Angel into the kitchen with a magenta flash of light. They appeared just in time to see Derpy trip over the doorframe and faceplant into the ground outside, flipping herself upside down and landing painfully on her back. Twilight stood eyeing the scene for several moments, deliberating as to who should receive the first scolding. ‘SPIIIIIKE!’ Twilight yelled. Dusk eyed Ponyville from a distance, unaided by his now-destroyed visual aids for what was almost the first time. It was about ten-thirty in the evening. The picturesque, idyllic mass of bright, gaudy pastel coloured structures, and its positive, happy inhabitants had succumbed to the night, whose dark sky was, tonight, tinted with a few shades of maroon and purple. It seemed to covered and the town, blanket it, calm and subdue it. A few lonely streetlights and household lamps, few and far between, offered a feeble resistance to the great emptiness, their dim and sometimes flickering yellow bulbs casting little fields of anaemic paleness on the surroundings. An ever-larger group of gently-shaded lilac clouds, bloated and heavy with moisture, gathered over the settlement, appearing to all the world like a heard of gentle ethereal megafauna. Soon, though, they would let loose their fury over the town, their cold hatred eating them up in the process. Already, strong winds, thick with uncondensed moisture and thoroughly scented with it, swirled about the night air like windigoes on the prowl. The leaves around the tree that Dusk was perched in rustled in response, like an angry swarm of insects guarding a nest. Beneath them, their dead, withered counterparts rustled quietly back, whispering to them. Dusk, preoccupied, glanced at the foreboding scene for a while, before his gaze reaches further, past the town and the night, into the even murkier, more frightening depths of the future and eternity. Maybe it was the mood of the evening, maybe it was just the emotional result of the afternoon, but Dusk was starting to feel less sure of his course of action right then. In fact, he felt like he didn’t have any choice, that the decision had been forced upon him…which it had, in a way, though he kept holding it against himself that it had been his responsibility to know what he was getting into from the beginning. The day had been long and rather disappointing, with Dusk having no choice but to watch the sun climb and fall from the sky in an agonizingly slow apex, every idle moment causing him to berate himself on his failure yet again. Currently he simply slumped against the trunk of his chosen tree, a gnarled, old specimen, not bothering to go prone on a branch or even adopt a cat-like perch that he would have been more comfortable with. He just leaned against the main body of his arboreal resting spot, half-lidded eyes weary and almost drooping, had his discipline not kept him awake. He wasn’t even sure why, after the events of the morning, he still allowed himself any leeway, but he didn’t even bother with camouflage. Perhaps a little sleep would help him to feel better? He rummaged through left pocket of his cloak, rifling through the rest of the gear cramped into it. The gear which he had not brought with him was buried burned or chucked away into the river to be swept down the current. There would be no time for anything else, only a mad chase, a prolonged game of cat and mouse after this. From the pocket’s jumble of contents, he drew an inconspicuous, small, matte black wristwatch, composed of little more than a tough nylon strap and waterproof housing, out of which a small metallic spike could be seen jutting through a hole, sunken into the hardened metal disk of the base. It had an alarm function that was currently set to an hour, after which it would administer a sharp but harmless prick. He had been taught that this made it more favourable as an alarm than anything that produced noise. Dusk eyed the small timepiece, noting that it was indeed only a quarter to eleven, still early by tonight’s standard, and prepared himself to make another decision. Perhaps a little sleep would help his frayed nerves. Perhaps… He activated the alarm and shut his eyes. It started out as a soft pitter patter, which Dusk’s subconscious mind ignoring it. A single droplet miraculously found its way through the myriad canopy of leaves to splatter itself on Dusk’s eyelid. The former guard turned to lie on his right side instead of facing upwards, somewhat squirming uncharacteristically in annoyance, but otherwise, he ignored that also. It was only when the rain and the winds picked up, screaming their vengeance to the world like ponies gone mad, did he finally take note. The gale drove the teardrops of water to a higher speed, and Dusk was assaulted by a stinging shower of freezing cold. He woke up quite abruptly, starting and nearly falling off his tree. He checked the watch around his wrist, and noted that he was due to wake up in a few minutes anyway. No matter, then. Shoving the watch into his pocket and donning his heavy cloak, the hood of which he pulled hastily over his head, he set off for the small town amid the pouring rain and howling winds and roaring torrents of air and airborne water. The ground was starting to turn to mud where it wasn’t impermeable, but Dusk kept his pace until the edge of the town, on the other side of the bridge from Ponyville, the Everfree to his back, its new familiarity granting him confidence. He spared it a parting glance, and turned to the town. Taking a deep breath and readying himself for anything that might come, he tried one last time to look within himself. This time, he found a solid core of fierce determination, prepared for the long and probably restless, difficult road ahead. There would be no going back from now, no retreat into the shadows or the forest or even to the Guild. This was it. He stepped from the safety of the cover of darkness, and into the gloomy yellow twilight of a streetlight-lit Ponyville. No doubt it was a source of comfort, a familiar home and safe retreat for many, but to him, it was full of unspoken horrors that could only be faced and overcome, never avoided. And he was ready. The dull rumble of thunder high overhead accompanied his footfalls, silent in the downpour save for the pitter patters as he treaded through wet grass and half-inch high swampy puddles. Gradually, the ground grew a little more solid, the water slipping off the gentle cross-sectional curvature of a well-worn road, rolling down in little droplets and undersized rivulets to the sides, where the soil was more porous and absorbent. Then, abruptly, the ground underneath Dusk’s feet was replaced by cobblestone streets. Dusk kept the hood down and his head low, heading briskly through the empty streets, hurrying and weaving through the lurid glow of streetlights. He bumped into a wall and grunted as he bounced off. Once or twice, he almost slipped and fell. His well-honed dexterity seemed to have left him as he trudged through the night towards what seemed like a gigantic, looming structure ahead of him. As he got a little closer to it, passing an alley about two blocks away, something pounced out of the darkness of the alley. A dull glint amid the rapidly advancing shadow was enough to jolt Dusk into action, and he shot almost explosively to his right, scooting around to face the threat…allowing his attacker’s blade to trace a line across his shoulder. It was barely more than a shallow scratch, sudden and unexpected enough that Dusk didn’t even have time to flinch. But it had quite a profound after-effect on Dusk, as he put a hoof to very minor injury, and was genuinely surprised as it came away with a few smatters of blood. There was no way some petty thief could have gotten the better of him. It had surprised him enough, in fact, that his attacker had enough time to press the tip of the blade gently on the collar of his cloak. “Sorry about that, buddy,” his attacker, now revealed to be a caramel-coated male, grizzled in appearance. He was composed of heavy-set, angular jaw, navy-blue eyes, and wild, unkempt mane and beard of jet-black hair. He was dressed in a short-sleeved checkered shirt, with the buttons missing, and reeked of the sour odour of unwash. “Take my word for it that it’s nothing personal,” he continued, “but I really need those bits. Don't make the problem worse for you and I.” Dusk shrugged, facial features kept impassively in a slight scowl. Finally, he shrugged. “Alright. Can I get my wallet?” The other pony shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to tell me where it is.” Dusk sighed melodramatically. “It’s inside my cloak, on your right, bottom pocket. Black leather, don’t miss it, ‘cause I have a knife in there.” The tramp nodded gratefully, then lowered his head, holding Dusk’s cloak open with his nose. Not the most graceful of postures, Dusk reflected, as he watched with mild disdain. Finally, the hobo got tired of holding his knife above his head, and straightened up, intending to amend his posture. Dusk chose the moment to shove the tramp with both front hooves. As his assailant went down, Dusk grabbed his opponent’s knife hand, the other pony’s right, in his own left, then spun into his grip, driving the elbow of the opposite hoof under his opponent’s ribcage, winding him. The hobo ended up on the ground, amid puddles of muddy rainwater, while Dusk stood stock-still and untouched, knife in his right hoof. What happened next somehow broke through his stony exterior, and saddened Dusk greatly, though it should have been expected, at any rate. The hobo scooted away on his back, then tried to get up, slipping on the wet stone flooring, before Dusk laid a spare hoof on his retreating foot. Something about the way Dusk reacted caused the would-be thief to stop and glance back. Silhouetted against street and porchlights in the entrance of a dark alley on a rainy night, he wasn’t the most comforting of figures, especially due to his attire and current possession of the only single visible weapon. Dusk laid the knife on the floor, then gave it a sharp push so that it skittered against the rough floor, to stop a few centimetres from the hobo’s own hoof. “I’m not here for you tonight,” Dusk said, then, after a short pause, added, “Remember this. And I hope you never need to use that again," indicating the knife with a nod of his head. The hobo’s slack-jawed surprise was quickly replaced by hurried nodding. He recognized the fact that he had been shown mercy. Dusk turned, trotting purposefully into the night, before stopping abruptly. He sighed, then, in a fit of sudden compulsion, reached into the bottom-most pocket of the right side of his cloak and pulled out his wallet, tossing it to hobo’s lap before continuing on his way. “Thanks for offering to keep me company, Derpy.” Even though the slate-gray Pegasus wasn’t going to be much help with the paperwork, it was still comforting to have her around in place of late night radio programmes. Twilight was glad that there was at least somepony else here in the municipality office. It would have been a moderately-sized room, had the place not been divided into corridors and units by padded blue cubical walls. There was only a single light, suspended a metre from the ceiling above Twilight’s head, that was on, and it would have been a night fraught with paranoia and fear had there not been somepony else here. “No problem, Twilight,” came a slurred and incoherent reply from the top of the four-metre-odd bare ceiling, where Derpy would almost have been invisible, save for her messy blonde mane, crossed amber eyes and bubble Cutie Mark. Twilight swore she could bounce on a ceiling almost as well as Pinkie. The rain continued to pound away outside, muffled, inconstant, and as good as a world away to Twilight. Derpy flitted into a shadowy alcove of the dome structure, executing a lazy midair somersault before shooting towards the ground in a recklessly fast and most likely destructive nosedive. Twilight didn’t bother looking up as a series of crashes and thuds, followed by airborne coffee mugs, knick-knacks and stationary, which were thrown up in a small radius. An office chair, the same dark blue as the cubical walls, gyrated on its axis and rolled slowly out of the cubicle after a few seconds. A stapler thudded business-end first into Twilight’s report, binding it to the table and inciting a small sigh. The silence held for several seconds before a small click, very much out of place, reverberated through the empty room. Dusk hastily squatted in front of the door, studying the lock. It looked to be a regular deadbolt lock, nothing that he couldn’t handle. Slipping two flat, hoof-sized lockpicks out of his pockets, he set to work on the tumblers, trying not to rattle the lock too much. He had no idea what was on the other side of this door, after all. He found the combination after a minute or so, and slid the deadbolt back into the door as gently as possible, which still didn’t stop is from emitting a faint click upon retraction. Dusk winced, but didn’t think much more of it. He crouched over on all fours, hugging the ground. With a decisive twist of the doorknob, he swung the door open as quietly and smoothly as possible to prevent it from creaking. It was pneumatic, and promptly swung back to close itself. He found himself in a cubicle-congested office room. A lit office room. That was all it took to convince him to find a place to hide. Still keeping his head as low as possible just in case someone was poking their head above the perfectly level line of cubical walls, he crawled over to the unit opposite the entrance, the closest one from him. Taking cover behind the padded wall, he stole a glimpse at the ceiling. The light currently on was a double-tubed white fluorescent lamp of about a metre long, hanging from the ceiling by means of two thin steel cables at either end. It was positioned at the dead centre of the office. The single light meant that he would have to be extremely careful of casting shadows, but it also meant that an unwary opponent might do the same. He peered into the corrider on the left of his current cubicle, and found it to be obstructed by a single office chair, still slowly rotating on the spot. Oh damn…His first thought was that Twilight Sparkle had somehow detected him and bolted. Oh damnit. He couldn’t afford to let her get away. Where was she? At that moment, a hesitant, stuttering female voice echoed through the office. “He-hello? Is anypony there?” Twilight peeked above the row of cubicles just in time to see the office door swing close. The first reasonings that her puzzled mind formed was that she wasn’t the one who had opened the door. The second was that it couldn’t have been Derpy. A growing sensation of dread, gnawing at her core, manifested itself as the realization dawned. Perhaps the howling wind had somehow found purchase on the door and torn it open. No, that’s ridiculous. The door itself is already indoors. Besides…the door was locked…The dread continued to build as Twilight considered this. She felt tense and stiff when she forced herself to her feet, off the chair, and peered into the unit behind her, where Derpy sat upright, crossed eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration and ears pricked up. She was listening intently. Twilight exhaled slightly. At least she wouldn’t be alone. Turning back face the entrance yet again, she cleared her throat softly, and tried to project her voice into the rest of the room. “He-hello? Is anypony there?” Derpy’s eyes snapped open and stuck her head out of her own cubicle, glancing left and right down the corridor before moving to Twilight. Upon withdrawing her head back into cover, she tossed her head over her shoulder and gave Twilight a stern look. Twilight jumped slightly at the expression, but not because she feared retaliation, but because Derpy’s orange-brown eyes were uncharacteristically focused on her. “Quiet!” Derpy hissed at Twilight, in perfect control of her voice, despite the prevailing undertone of urgency. “Don’t let him know we’re here. I’m going to need all the time we can get. Now,” she put her hooves on firmly Twilight’s shoulders. “I need you to do something for me. Do I have your cooperation?” Twilight nodded hastily, spooked even more by the sudden change in Derpy’s character. She glanced around nervously behind her friend, towards the ceiling. “Okay. Good. I need you to stay here.” Twilight shook her head in alarm, almost hysterical at this point. She was confused now, on top of everything else, and she hated being confused. “He needs you alive, so you’ll be safe. Whatever you do, just stay here!” Her instructions concluded, Derpy slinked out of the cubicle, prowling on all fours and continuing to glance cautiously around. Twilight understood that she was supposed to be the bait, and seated herself obediently back on her chair. She was worried, even panicked, she admitted, yet something in Derpy’s voice had convinced her to stay still. She toyed with the stapler on her desk, trying to pry it off with one hoof while gripping the armrest restlessly with the other. She was trying to find something, anything that would keep her from losing it completely. No, not now. I need to think. What had Derpy meant when she said that ‘he’ needed her alive? Who was ‘he’? She tried to recall all her enemies, those who were bent against her cause. It couldn’t be any of them, not now anyway. Nightmare Moon was, for want of a better word, reconciled to the world, and Discord was, well, a statue. Other than that, who in Equestria world would…She pressed a hoof to her temple, massaging it as her frayed nerves blossomed into a pounding headache. When she opened her eyes again, there was a hooded figure blocking the exit to her cubicle. The hood hid is face, but he was a brown-coated individual, either a Pegasus or an earth pony, judging from the lack of horn. His mouth, the only part of his face visible to her, was a thin line, slightly downcast at the edges. “I’m going to ask you for your cooperation, Miss Sparkle. Don’t want to make this any harder for you than it is.” He reached into his cloak and drew out an opaque black sphere. It was slightly larger than a ping pong ball, and its surface was rough-hewn and uneven. It was also accompanied by a bitter odour, strong but very faint, which Twilight recognized from her visits to Zecora’s. Magicians’ Bane. “Alright,” she replied, her tone resigned. She took a furtive step forward before her eyes lit up with a scowl, and her horn flared translucent lilac. She swept her head from left to right casting a powerful telekinetic wave which rippled and distorted the air in front of her. Intending to follow up to stun her would-be hostage taker, she took a decisive step forward, lowering her head and aiming for the opposite cubicle, where she expected him to land in a heap. To her considerable surprise and disdain, she saw something glimmer in the purple wave, shortly followed by the attacker stepping through, the coverts of his wings, holding knives, held in front of him like a swimmer taking a dive. He parted his wings and reared a hoof up to hurl the black capsule towards her. There was another small explosion as Derpy rocketed past from somewhere behind her and to her right, tackling the mysterious pony and sending both of them crashing into some other part of the office. Twilight rushed after them, horn already aglow as she prepared for the worst. “Uhh…” Dusk took hold of the obstruction pinning him down and tipped it over on its side, springing up as best as he could. He saw his opponent pulling her back left out from under an overturned work desk. She gave a violent shake of the head and went into a stance, wings flared, head and shoulders low to the ground, back hooves digging into the ground. Then she brought her wings down forcefully to her sides so that they were flat and level, pulling a plain steel blade from a concealed housing under her right wing. It was somewhere in between a dagger and a sword, curved elegantly and kept secured to the leading edge of the wing. He brandished his own weapons, angling his wings so that the dozen or so deadly points were directed towards his opponent. Her eyes narrowed as he pulled his hood off. “Nice to see you again, Dusk.” The sound of his name caused him to take a few involuntary steps backwards. “…How do you know my name?” The Pegasus grimaced in reply. Then she launched herself at him. Dusk crossed his blades protectively in front of himself and let her land two good strikes before pulling his wings apart and knocking her guard wide. Then he aimed a hoof at her neck. She was quick to recover, though, and grabbed his wrist with her free hoof, twisting it painfully, while she tried to bring her sword arm up to attack him. It would have been quicker to hit him with the hilt of the blade, and she realized her mistake halfway through. Dusk, with the help of his wings, rolled to counter the twist, breaking free from her grip. They backed off again, each circling slowly clockwise, the grey mare with her weapon held horizontally in front of her. Dusk feinted right, then rolled to left, coming up facing her broad side and letting fly a blade from either wing. Dusk’s aim was off, and the blades criss-crossed in midair. The mare spun towards him, lowering her profile and snapping her wings shut against her sides, but wasn’t fast enough to prevent from having one of the weapons slice across her upper ‘arm’. She grunted in pain, then launched herself yet again at him. Her opponent apparently thought that she would retreat after an injury, no matter how slight. She intended to take full advantage of that. Though he had brought his guard up quickly enough to catch her first blow, she could see his eyes widen in surprise for a fleeting moment. It was a light blow, anyway, intended only to keep him busy for a moment, she followed up with a few more similar strikes, slicing movements that got progressively more powerful, knocking Dusk back and forth, before finally pirouetting and bringing the blade down hard, knocking a few of his weapons from their grip and stumbling him. She leapt back, drawing her frontal half up to avoid a swipe from Dusk. It was a panicky, defensive movement, obviously triggered by her series of attacks and their final result, and she let a small smile play across her lips. Dusk had more or less recovered when a lance of purple energy sizzled through the air, accompanied by a shriek. It charred the ground where Dusk’s hoof was a moment ago. Twilight continued the barrage, as Dusk once again crossed his wings, catching the first few bolts and even batting away a few before Twilight saw that it was hopeless. Magic wouldn’t work on the attacker. Not directly, anyway. She looked again at Dusk’s hooves, before yanking out the overturned cubicle wall that he was standing on. Dusk stumbled backwards as it was whisked out, and recovered almost instantaneously from the seemingly feeble attack. It was enough for Derpy to rush in and land a few blows on his defense before hopping nimbly out of the way. Dusk was left with just a moment before the cubicle wall came flying back at him, spinning wildly and humming softly as it raced past. Dusk didn’t even have time to take to the air, instead yelling and leaping off the ground. It was barely enough for his hooves not to skirt the edges of the projectile, and he landed off balance. Dusk realized with a flash that the two mares were not used to working in tandem, as he recovered from stumbling. Nopony had tried to attack him in that moment, as the two of them waited for the other to make the move. Eventually, he did. He saw in his peripheral vision the cubicle wall spinning in a wide but tight arc to come racing back at him again, and took to the air, divebombing Twilight. Derpy tried taking off and tackling him again in midair. Just as they would have connected, he flared his wings and did a forward roll, slowing down enough that Derpy was sent speeding into the adjacent cubicle. Snapping his wings shut again, he managed to keep most of his momentum and continued to charge at Twilight. She raised her hooves defensively over her face, as he veered up gently at the last second, reaching his hooves under him to knock her over while offering a hasty “sorry”. But it had done what it was supposed to, as Twilight lost her concentration and the cubicle wall lost its violet sheen, and fell to the ground. Its heavy weight meant that its momentum kept it skipping over the rubble-strewn ground towards them…towards Twilight. Dusk pulled up further in a tight somersault, and nosedived towards her. This time, he hooked a forehoof under each of her’s and veered off sharply to the left. The cubicle wall skidded past, coming to a messy stop against another workstation. Twilight and Dusk turned from the projectile to each other, both surprised to varying extents at his actions, and momentarily stunned into inactivity. Derpy, on the other hoof, had no sympathy or questioning to spare, and took the chance to rocket at Dusk while he was preoccupied, smashing the hilt of her blade into Dusk’s temple. He crumpled and went limp on top of a disgruntled Twilight, who gasped and cringed before wriggling around, trying to free herself from the dead weight. Derpy raised a hoof to her ear, tapping it twice. The hidden radio activated at the touch. “Mountain High, this is Trojan. The pony in question has been…subdued. Request for pickup, pronto.” Twilight continued to observe Dusk’s prostrate form as Derpy turned him over. She pressed a hoof to his neck, checking for a pulse, before stripping the daggers from his wings and removing his cloak. Twilight took a furtive step forward at this point. “I-Is he dead?” Derpy snorted and turned away, hanging the cloak on the back of a chair and rummaging through the wreckage. “I wouldn’t worry, Twilight,” she replied, voice cool, unworried, fluent. Certainly not the Derpy Twilight knew. She came back up with a coil of rope, and began subduing Dusk before continuing. “I’d take a lot more to kill him. Trust me.”