Honor the Dead
by BinaryTroll
Pre-read/Edited by Honored Service
Chapter 39: “Tangents, Tangents everywhere.”
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“I'm still unsure if I should return them to you.” Celestia replied. “And detailing just how dangerous you can be did little to change my mind.”
“Come on sister,” Luna argued. “He almost killed himself to get them.”
Celestia turned to her sister. “I'm more worried about your life, and the lives of our subjects.”
Joel sighed. “Look, I lived with Wardo for two years. He's only been in the bloodrage state five or six times since we started working together. It doesn't happen often, especially if he doesn't end up in combat much.”
“Besides,” I interjected. “I'm going to need some firepower if I'm going after the most powerful book in the world.”
Vi raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had things you wanted to do?”
I shrugged. “My mind is fickle, and besides, theres not a single human woman on the planet, I was unlikely to ever test out a 240 barrel shotgun, inventing time travel would be kinda hard and I could just get Twilight to help me with that, I'm yet to see a marmot in this world, let alone a puntable one, there's no real point in learning how to fight someone using playing cards, I can probably buy a pin from a shop and get somepony to enchant it, there are no existing computers I could use to learn to hack with, I'm sure I can find an excuse to drink a hundred cups of coffee one day, grafting a pair of wings onto my body would be painful and probably not really worth doing, learning how to fly a helicopter would probably be boring and I wouldn't use it that much, I unfortunately will not ever be able to complete the entirety of Fallout 3 and New Vegas, even if I did have a computer, back-flipping off the top of Canterlot is probably the last thing I'd want to do before I died, building a Minecraft world large enough to take up several terabytes would take far too long anyway, I have no reason to find a cure for cancer anymore, killing someone with a pogo stick just seems silly, there is no longer a Westboro Baptist church to make fun of, kicking someone down a well while screaming 'This is Sparta!' at the top of my lungs was never going to happen anyway, namely because I've never seen an actual well and lets be honest, I'm never going to be a good shot with all the time in the world to practice.”
Vi shook her head and sighed. “Why use five words when three hundred will do?”
I grinned. “You asked a question, you got the answer.”
“And I wasted about a minute of my life.” She muttered with a scowl.
I shrugged. “Don't blame me, blame yourself.”
“Can we get back on track here?” Luna asked, cutting off Vi's retort.
“Sure.” I said, turning back to face her.
She rolled her eyes. “Thank Faust. There are a few problems with allowing you to take back your weapons. One, it makes both of you more dangerous.” She gestured to Joel and I. “Two, it means that by doing so, my sister and I allow you to search for a grimore that could summon Cthulu, bring back an army of the dead and basically destroy the world. Three, if they fall into the wrong hooves it could ignite yet another war, and we are currently not even close to ready for that. I'm confident that you won't let that happen, but it is still a possibility. Four, it allows you two to work as assassins again, and my sister apparently outlawed that career path a few hundred years ago.”
“But you're totally not against Honored breaking out of a prison, murdering the king or caesar or whatever, running off and killing a bunch of other things, including an ursa major, not to mention the previous changeling war, in which he killed a bunch of changelings, many of which probably didn't even want to be there.”
Celestia scowled at me. “That was in self defense. I do not condone his actions, but he didn't have a choice.”
I crossed my arms raised an eyebrow. “We always have a choice. You could have chosen to lose the war, or he could have chosen to rot in prison, or die and be eaten. A choice is always available, and we must often choose between ourselves and others in life.”
She glanced quickly at Luna, who didn't seem to notice. “I know that better than anyone.”
I uncrossed my arms and sighed. “It doesn't really matter anyway. I'm a pretty terrible assassin. I probably should get a different career path anyway, but I dunno what.”
“You could be a baker.” Joel suggested with a laugh.
“I've always wanted to be a baker.” I said in a silly voice, mimicking the shield wielding assassin of the League.
The rest of the group stared at us blankly.
I waved my hand. “Nevermind.”
Luna continued as if the last ten seconds hadn't happened. “You two could become members of the Equestrian Honor Guard. You certainly would have the aptitude for it.”
I looked to Joel. He shrugged. “I'm not really the protecting type.”
“Neither. Besides, I'd probably have problems with authority.” I considered the proposition a bit longer. “Running through basic training could be fun, but it would screw over the whole secrecy thing a bit.”
Joel sighed. “I think you kind of screwed that over when you charged in here.”
“I didn't charge. I... um.”
Joel placed his fingers together and smiled evilly.
Charge was the perfect word to describe what I did. “Fuck you.”
He nodded as though I had said something profound.“Exactly.”
Luna sighed in exasperation. “Getting back on subject. Weapons.”
I clicked my fingers. “Right. First things first, it makes us more dangerous.”
“There are currently two hundred and thirty-six ways of killing one or both of you in this room, provided they are executed properly. That does not include the reclamation of our guns.” Joel said smugly.
I smiled sweetly at them. “So yeah, sleep tight.”
Celestia groaned. “And that is why I'm reluctant to the give them back to you, lest that number triple.”
“It doesn't matter how many ways there are, you'll be just as dead.” I replied.
“Then onto point two!” Joel said.
Luna sighed. “The Nerconomicon.”
“Exactly.” I leaned back against the wall. “The thing about Ol' Necky is that I'm going to hunt him down no matter what. I might as well, since I got nothing better to do.”
Joel continued for me. “We have no source of income, no reasonable home and I'm pretty sure that having the Necronomicon in our possession will be far safer than one of the many insane villains of this universe.”
Celestia considered those points. “I would feel better about this if you would deliver it back to us, instead of using it for your own purposes.”
“We could even pay you if you do.” Luna said, catching on.
“Sounds fine to me.” Shyv said.
Vi nodded. “On one condition though. If we succeed, you must help me in the rehabilitation of my people, as well as help create a less hostile atmosphere for changelings in society.”
“Any objections sister?” Celestia asked.
Luna shook her head. “You have my full support.”
Celestia extended a hoof. “Done.”
Vi shook it. “Looking forward to it.”
I blinked. “Wait a second... Did you just seal a deal that could change the future of the world in about ten seconds?”
“I believe we did, yes.”
I shook my head in bewilderment. “Man, if only Earth's politics moved this fast.”
“You still have to retrieve the Necronomicon.” Celestia reminded me.
I raised an eyebrow. “And you still have to give me back my knives.”
“I guess I should, shouldn't I?” She sighed. “Fine. Give me a second.”
She stood up and closed her eyes. Yellow magic flowed through her horn and gathered at the tip, spinning faster and faster as more gathered. Slowly, small sparks of black, red and green joined the roiling mass. When all the magical energy had gone dark, she opened her eyes and slashed her horn vertically downward, leaving a trail of darkness in it's wake. The trail shimmered and widened, until it was wide enough to walk through.
And there, suspended in a field of yellow magic, was a ballistic knife with two spare knives, two black combat knives, a G2 FAMAS with two extra magazines, an Arctic Warfare Police sniper rifle with three extra magazines, twin glock-18s with two spare clips each, one normal, one incendiary, a broken set of brass knuckles, two long blades attached to motorcycle handbrakes, a .44 magnum revolver with no ammo and a missing hammer and finally, Luna and Celestia, my two precious bowie knives that had claimed more lives than any one of the other weapons floating in the portal.
I reached in and grabbed the two knives, holding them reverently for a second before automatically sheathing them in my coat.
Which I didn't have on.
The knives clattered to the floor, narrowly missing my feet. “Shit!” I sprang back, almost crashing into Shyv.
Joel shook his head and reached out, claiming his Glocks and stuffing them in his pockets. He swiped his combat knife and sheathed that too, before finally reaching out and taking his AWP with both hands, smiling down at it with a tenderness that could only be shared with an inanimate object. He pulled back the bolt with a loud click and slammed a magazine into the receiver, before slamming the bolt forward again with practiced ease.
I grabbed the ballistic knives, combat knife and FAMAS and placed them carefully in a small pile beside me. I grabbed the brass knuckles too, despite their state, and stuffed them in one of my many pockets.
Finally, I picked up the sisters and cradled them in my arms reverently, checking the edge and paint. It was scuffed and scratched all over the place, but they were unmistakably the pair of knives that had saved my life so many times.
Vi stepped up to the rift in reality and took out the broken revolver. She held it up curiously, studying the internal mechanisms, especially the cylinder that would usually hold the shots.
Finally, Shyvanna stepped forward and removed the pair of improvised swords. She held them aloft for a second before tucking them under her wings.
Celestia relaxed, letting the spell fall and the rift mend itself. I looked up from the knives in my arms to the princesses they were named after. “Was storing these in a pocket dimension really necessary?”
Celestia was panting heavily. “I didn't want to take any chances.”
I looked back down at the knives I was clutching protectively to my chest. “I would have never forgiven you if you lost them.”
Luna looked at me with interest. “You really love those knives, don't you?”
I ran a thumb lovingly across Celestia's still razor sharp edge. “Of course I do. They're my pride and joy.”
Celestia floated her bladed counterpart over to her. “I'm still curious as to why you painted our cutiemarks on them.”
I snatched it back. “It's because, in my eyes at least, they were the closest thing to a physical embodiment of you two.” I dropped my eyes. “Now I've actually met you, it feels kinda awkward to say.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “And?”
I threw my head back and groaned. “Fine. Just be prepared for corniness.” I cleared my throat and raised Celestia (the knife) above my head. “The day is practicality and getting shit done.” I lifted Luna (the knife) to join it. “The night is beauty and about having fun. The light is the part of me I will always need, the dark is the part of me I will always love.” I lowered both the knives to my sides. “Celestia is my pride, Luna is my joy.”
“Poetic.” Vi commented.
I pointed Luna at her. “Oh shut up. I told you it was going to be corny.”
“I thought that was rather nice.” Shyv said, trying to cheer me up.
Joel clapped slowly. “Bravo, ten out of ten. Would listen to again.”
I swung Celestia in his general direction, which he promptly side-stepped. “And fuck you too.”
He grinned. “Usually I don't swing that way, but anything for you Wards.”
I facepalmed. “I'd turn your face into mincemeat, but we both know I can't cook for shit.”
“Have you ever considered becoming comedians?” Luna asked, rolling her eyes. “I hear slapstick is all the rage these days.”
“Fuck that, I have better things to do.” I replied, scooping up the rest of my weapons into my arms. “Speaking of, where's my coat?”
Joel was the one who answered. “It's up in your hammock, along with your boots and a new pair of socks, courtesy of one of the more trusted maids I believe.”
"Who made the socks?"
"I got them especially for you." Luna said, face oddly blank.
I rubbed my hands together. “Excellent. In that case, I will see you later. I have a coat to wear!”
“That has got to be be the worst parting line ever. Of all time.” Joel muttered.