//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: A Dead Brotherhood // by 2Bit Dusk //------------------------------// Artimus Starred at his limp, lifeless cloak and hood that was sprawled out on the bed in front of him. Eyes of cold fabric starred back back at his own fleshy eyes. His mind tingled and raced with the possible ending of tonight and what it would do to his family's future. He was taking on a big role, perhaps something too much for his shoulders alone. But alone for this he would be, and this would be best for one stallion to die than two. But what if he was the last ? his fellow brothers had all fallen by the wayside, and their bodies would lie in unmarked graves. He slide the now uncomfortable garments on his shoulders and threw on his gleaming white hood. It struck him coldly that this once so familer fabric seemed so foreign and alien to him. Was it possible that this, his second coat, that he slaved for many hours cleaning blood out of the seems was now so strange and so uncomfortable. The thought of his past works and it made him laugh, and a little sick. A thin, looming shadow cascaded over his being and he sadly knew who it was. He turned towards the door frame and a blinding light shined on his scared face. When he adjusted his eyesight he cringed as his wife's cold purple eyes that starred back at his own. He could feel his heart beat speed up and his coat turn cold. He rubbed his sharp lips and stretched on a fake smile. '' Honey, I was just about to meet the guys down at the pub- '' She put her hoofs on his forehead and smiled. '' Come on Artimus, you may be an assassin but you were never a good lair. Even when you were with your friends ''. '' I have have to go Eve, This is my last contract then we can move out into the country, maybe get a ranch on some open field of grain or what have it ? '' he asked. She poked his stomach with something sharp. '' Not on your life . . .and if your going down ' to the pub ' you better take this ''. She strapped on his hoof a leather gauntlet. With that the two hugged and stood there for almost five minutes. Artimus said his goodbye to her and left the room, fighting every step he took. He lingered in the empty halls, trying to hold on to what little presence he had left. He wanted to avoid the living room but he could not leave his only flesh and blood with out a goodbye. Artimus glided into the living room and cringed as he saw his two sons sitting happily as if the world we're whole. His eldest son Rust wood sat talking on the phone with a pony that Artimus did not know, Perhaps didn't want to know. His youngest son laid asleep on the couch with drool spilling down his chin. At the sight of his father Rust put the phone away and trotted up to him. '' Gee dad why are so dressed up, I didn't think you were going to the Gala '' Scoffed his son. '' What do I look like too you ? one of your ' social sites ' ? '' he laughed at his sons fondness for Snout-book. He embraced his son one last time, with another lingering hug. His son didn't appreciate his fathers bushy mustache scrapping against his face. '' Take care of your mother and brother, I should be back soon '' he hugged his son again and kissed him on his head. Dumbfounded Rust starred at his father as he opened the door and slide into the harsh Manehatten night. Rain and sleet pounded against Artimus's hood as he made his way through the artificial lights of the city. Artimus bite his lip to hold down bitter tears, was what he was doing right ? would it really make a difference in the end. Maybe . . .maybe not. But what he did know is that his son would have to carry on their family's blood, their legacy. . . . '' Rust ! help me with the dishes please ! '' his mother called form downstairs. The mere sound of her voice made Rust sigh aloud in his room. He had to come up with a lie fast so he could follow his mysterious father. He had followed his father to pubs and poker games before but this time, the world seemed to be on his fathers shoulders. His father was never a good liar, but Rust was. He ran downstairs with a fake worried frown. '' Mom ! fair-hair just called and she needs her books for the test Monday ! '' he trotted in place to emphasis his eagerness. '' Honey, really ? it's raining cats and dogs and it's only, I don't know twelve o'clock ? '' perhaps his mother saw through his lie, honestly it probably wasn't his best. '' Come on the test is thirty percent of our Equestian history class, and Iv'e been borrowing it for over a week '' he started to gnaw on his hoof, he was sure that that his father would be long gone by now. With a heavy sigh she waved her hoof in the air ; giving him permission to leave. With out word she shot up stairs and pulled on a thin blue hoodie, sadly this would do little tk save him from the drowning rain. With empty hooves he crawled out of the window and ran on the roof tops of Manehatten. He would have to hurry to try to keep up with his father. The slick gravel of the rooftops we'er not too kind to his hooves. He could barley hold on and with the blinding sleet of the freezing rain splashing in his eyes the task would be very difficult. The lights of the city flashed and danced on Rust's father's hood. He pondered why his father was doing and what for ? What were his goals and what were his intentions. Now that he thought of it, his father didn't really have any friends to go to the pubs and poker games, or at least none that he had met. And why was he so decked out, cloak and all. The sleet and snow stated to wear on his body and drag on his clothing. But his curiosity seemed to be made form sterner stuff and could not be calmed. His father seemed to be paranoid, at each little trash can moving and at each little flash of light his father darted his head to all. He turned his intentions back to the rooftops of Manehatten and the big gap that laid before him. With a over-enthusiastic heart he jumped over the gap but overestimated his capability and fell half way. Just in time he caught his hoof on the rim of the roof and his knees scraped against the hard brick. His father darted his head towards the bright the moon and ran into a back ally. Biting his lip so not to scream he tore at the roof and crawled up, almost out of breath. He patted down his knees and fought through the pain of his bleeding flesh. He managed to catch up to his father who had kept amazing speed even with the conditions around him, even better than he could. After several minutes of silent trotting, only the growing snow to softened the deafening silence. His mind froze as His father jumped in an ally behind an old museum. Quizzically Rust sat behind a tree looking over towards his ever increasing suspicious father. He popped open a AC unit and slide in. Rust decided to hold on for five minutes to make sure his father wouldn't catch on. With a '' graceful '' leap Rust jumped from the tree and immediately plummeted to the ground. Counting his teeth and measuring his cuts he opened the AC unit and slide in. It seemed that they would be traveling by ventilation. The dark iron corridors squeezed and contorted his body into a pretzel. How could his father, who was much older than he, crawl threw these vents like a serpent ? The tight space and hot air wore down on his sanity, he would not want to go through this again. Another five minutes of trying to find his way through the metal maze finally it yielded for him. What he saw was something straight out of a movie. Various black hoods and pale complexions filled the museum basement. It was all very surreal, they all talked nonsense about nothing that remotely resembled a normal club. What was his fathers true '' hobby '' ? It seemed that his father was nowhere to be seen or heard. Only black hoods and more nonsense echoed in Rusts ears. It was all '' brother this '' and '' world that ''. Did his father change into a black cloak this fast ? because the white hood would've stood out like a star in the night. Suddenly a pale stallion with a fiery mane walked up to the podium and pulled a golden hood over his charred face. '' Welcome brothers and sisters ! to our final meeting before we change this land. Take solace in our patience brothers for our time is nigh ! For generations we have hunted and killed the assassins who have fought so hard to destroy us ! Yet we live ! for we are the children of Tirek and we have been faithful to our master ! We have located the one thing that will give us the edge in our fight, the Apple of Tirek. Every pony and beast in Equestia shall be ours to command ! The last of Honor Hawks bloodline is being hunted down as we speak and their heads shall adorn pikes in our halls ! '' the enthusiastic leader gave a speech to his brothers and the basement roared in laughter and cheer. Rust didn't know what they were talking about, but he knew it was not good. He looked around for his father again and to his surprise he spotted his him sitting as nimble as a mouse on a high beam. A slick knife jutted in and out of his gauntlet, as if he was flexing a muscle. His father looked like he had seen a ghost, his bright yellow eyes starring deeply down at the golden hood. He flexed his blade and jumped down like a eagle with his weapon jutting out of his gauntlet. With the world slowing down around him his father flashed his gaze towards his son's. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. The shine of his eyes disappeared as he fell on top of the golden hooded stallion. His father was consumed by a mass of dark hoods. He heard clashing of steal and a final grown. Only when the mass drew back did Rust realize the situation. Rust screamed and flew back into the ventilation shaft with his father glazed over eyes burnt into his mind. In a mess of tears and confusion he pulled himself out of the vent and fell hard on the freezing concrete. Not wanting to look back he ran towards a nearby pear. In his warped mindset the pear looked safe and inviting, but in all reality it could of been very dangerous. Sharp winds slashed against his face and he dived into the cold open blue. His hope had emerged but was quickly stamped out has he remembered that he could not swim . . . Burning salt water flooded threw his mouth and down his throat, making his organs churn like heavy rocks. Heavy and thick sheets of freezing water splashed and covered his body. His bones felt suppressed and weighed down, as if someone was pushing him down. Thunder roared overhead and it crackled around his deafening world. It seemed that this would be the end, the last thing he would see would be his fathers eyes and his frantic hooves clawing at the ocean blue. He dripped his head down and was prepared to go into the endless dream, until a pair of strange teeth bit down hard on his scruff and pulled him up.