//------------------------------// // The Concubine of the Sultan of Nadira // Story: Tales of Apple Scratch: The rise of the Queen // by Mariacheat-Brony //------------------------------// Fourteen years before the Royal Wedding, Royal palace of Nadira, Economic Capital of the Camelu's Sultanates...         Sultan Murad the Fourth of Nadira was a talented leader, and an even more talented businessman. It was thanks to his flair for spotting good deals that all the northern region of Camelu, of which Nadira was the capital, prospered well above the other regions of the almost desertic peninsula. Said prosperity had been shared with the other parts of Camelu, for it was the Sultan’s dream to have his country become one of the most well developed in the world. Those were amongst the many reasons the Sultan had been respected by all the people of Camelu, and those of Equestria. The Princesses Celestia and Luna themselves thought greatly of the Sultan. When Murad’s time came to an end, the whole peninsula, and many Equestrians mourned him during an entire week.         The great Sultan Murad’s dream of a prosperous, and unified Camelu had unfortunately died with him as his heir, Haakim, was a much different person than the great man his father used to be. Unlike his wise, and calm sire, Haakim had let his pride take over his common sense during a meeting with Equestrian ambassadors, something that caused many trade-routes with Equestria to be cut off. Without its source, Camelu’s past prosperity quickly become nothing but a pleasant memory for the people of the Cameluen Sultanates. With Haakim at the head of the greatest Sultanate of Camelu there was no hope for any sort of economical, or political recovery. That was the reason of Vigil Locust’s presence in the dunes located in the North of the elegant spires of Nadira. Vigil was a giant of a man, easily seven feet tall. He was draped of deep blue clothes specifically made for the desert. His deep blue eyes intently scanning the wall around the palace. He intently observed the lights of the guards going about their rounds by the light of  they carried. Some of which disappeared behind the covered walkway they would walk through. He glanced behind him, seeing his camel perfectly still where he had attached it, and started to run toward the palace. Under the cover of the moonless night, Vigil reached the base of the surrounding wall. He leaned his whole body against it, so that any guard that might look down wouldn’t see him easily in the dark. The infiltrator then closed his eyes in a brief, but intense focus. A faint green glaze appeared around his forearms, and legs. Pure black, chitinous, and spiky gauntlets, and boots had just replaced the blue cotton of his clothes. He took a short breath before he started to climb the smooth sandstone wall. The spikes of his gauntlets’ palms or claws allowed him to have a grip on the seemingly flawless surface where has the ones of his boots were the perfect climbing crampons for Vigil. Quickly enough, he had reached the parapet of the covered way, sixty feet above the ground. From his hanging position, he only saw the glows of two patrolling guards’ torches passing from behind the parapet. Vigil waited until the glows met, and parted way before he climbed on top of the wall. He glanced to his right, and left, only to smirk at the sight of two guards walking away from him. Vigil simply walked the stairs located a few feet away as a short, bright green glow flashed around all his clothes. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Vigil encountered two of Nadira’s guards who briefly nodded at him. He returned their nods instantly, and went in direction of the West wing of the palace. He met quite a few guards on his way, but none of them bothered Vigil’s journey. After all, there was nothing wrong in one the Sultan’s guards patrolling the palace’s grounds. He walked in front of the West wing’s only entrance and stopped in front of two guards wearing pure white cotton pants, and a black chestplate with a matching helmet, unlike vigil’s yellow, and green uniform. They barely turned their eyes in his direction when he didn’t move from before them. “May we help you?” one of them asked matter-of-factly. “I have a message for the Sultan, and I was wondering if he was inside,” Vigil explained slowly, and calmly. “He is indeed,” the other guard replied softly. “I’m afraid it will have to wait, unless it’s an urgent matter… The Sultan doesn’t like being disturbed when he’s in the West wing.” “It was just to be certain,” Vigil stated gently. “It’ll have to wait until tomorrow then.”         And with that, Vigil saluted the two guards, and turned his back to them. He didn’t try to force his way in, as it would blow his cover immediately. He only had to be sure of the Sultan’s location, and now that he was sure, Vigil would have to do some more climbing. After all, only the Sultan and his eunuchs were allowed to walk through the front door of the Harem. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~         The climbing to the Sultan’s balcony had been as easy, and as discreet as the one Vigil had done earlier on the wall. With the stealth of a black cat, Vigil reached for the threshold that separated the balcony and the Sultan’s chamber. The light curtain that occupied the space before the threshold did nothing to prevent the strong smell of the aphrodisiac incense of the room to reach for the assassin’s nose. He shook his head a bit, and brought a piece of clothing to cover his nose. It wasn’t the first time Vigil had infiltrated a target’s bedchamber with said target’s wife, mistress, concubine, or whore, but the smell was usually this strong when his target was way older than the current Sultan. Maybe Haakim of Nadira needed more help to get in the mood. Vigil quickly brushed the condescending remark of his mind under the proverbial rug, and leaned his head a bit toward the threshold. He spotted the young Sultan lying lazily on his large bed, his tunic halfway off, and his long hair free of his traditional turban. Haakim didn’t look at all in the balconies direction, and Vigil quickly understood his reason to do so.         Said reason was busy dancing for him, wearing the finest piece of oriental lingerie, probably from the finest tailor of Nadira. The Sultan’s eyes followed the tanned curves that were accented by silken straps that hung from the gold-rimmed bra, and thongs the dancer was wearing. The silk she was wearing was of the same shade of green as her long hair. She kept a slightly transparent mask over her mouth, but the fabric did a poor job hiding her plump, and luscious lips, as her brightly green eyes exuded nothing but arousal and want. The only things out of place in her outfit were the two thick, metallic bands she had on her wrists.         She swayed her hips as she came closer to the Sultan’s bed, while said Sultan was biting his lip in anticipation. As the Nadiran leader kept his eyes focused on the beauty that started to climb on his bed, Vigil took a deep breath to clear his mind of the sensual dancing session of the Sultan’s concubine. It took him a good minute, much to his own shame, but he relativized quickly. He was excellent at what he did, but that didn’t make Vigil much more than the average man in certain peculiar situations. Once his thoughts were clear enough, Vigil reached for one of the two rather long daggers he kept at his belt. He slowly made his way inside as silently as he used to be, though he doubted none of them would be able hear him unless he was stomping to them. The Sultan was quite the talker apparently, and his concubine only giggled at every sentences he said before they both let out muffled moans of pleasure. Vigil held his dagger in a reversed grip as he approached the bed, seeing the Sultan pinning his concubine on the mattress as she wrapped her legs around his torso. Haakim of Nadira buried his face in the tanned woman’s neck while said woman was moaning in his ear, her eyes shut, and her mask half way off. As he raised his dagger to bury it in the Sultan’s back, Vigil’s eyes slightly focused on the concubine’s. He stopped for a second when he realized he was probably going to have to kill her as well. I’m sorry, girl… You were in the wrong place at the wrong time… Vigil thought with sympathy before making the blade go down his target.         Though, during his brief hesitation, the concubine had opened her eyes, and saw him and the dagger. As the blade came down, she rolled out of the way, saving the Sultan as well as herself. Vigil cursed loudly when his dagger pierced through the soft mattress, earning the attention of the confused Sultan now on the ground. He pulled the blade out before he faced the half-naked couple who was trying to stand back up.         Haakim, who had been back on his feet already, helped his concubine up only to shove her strongly against his assassin to reach for his sword on the other side of the room. The woman let out a shocked, and surprised gasp as she crashed against their attacker’s large chest. Her eyes were beyond terrified when Vigil briefly looked into them before he pushed her on the bed. Coward! Vigil snarled in his mind as he took a step toward the Sultan who had drawn his scimitar out. The young Sultan whirled his weapon a couple of times before taking his stance before Vigil. It surprised the assassin that the Sultan hadn’t immediately called for his guards. He had heard that Haakim had learned how to fight, but Vigil hadn’t known he would be stupid enough to face an assassin on his own. Though, in retrospect, he should have known since the clients had stated they wanted this prideful idiot of a Sultan away from Nadira’s throne.         Haakim swung his sword at Vigil, aiming for the assassin’s head. The Sultan’s form was good, but Vigil’s trained eyes saw that the Sultan had never been in a real fight before. He had been trained like many nobility children were: with masters, and sparring partners that couldn’t really fight back properly so they wouldn’t harm the sons of the one who payed them. Vigil dodged without effort before retaliating.         The Sultan’s scimitar had a longer reach than the assassin’s dagger, but it didn’t matter as Vigil’s superior skills largely compensated for it. They traded blows for a couple of seconds before Vigil had decided that he was done toying with the young Sultan. With a strong blow on his opponent’s wrist, Vigil disarmed the Sultan who then took a step back toward the bed. Haakim held his bloody wrist, opening his mouth to finally call for his guards, but Vigil had already prepared his hand to throw his weapon in the Sultan’s throat. The dagger was about to leave his hand when something he had never thought could happen happened.         The concubine behind Haakim had pressed her hand over the Sultan’s mouth, and plunged a dagger in his stomach. Vigil held his knife-throwing stance, his eyes expressing the same shock as Haakim’s, before he noticed that the dagger murdering his target was his. He looked down, and saw that the other scabbard at his belt was empty. The concubine must have taken it when she bumped into him.         Haakim let out a muffled cry of pain as he fell on the bed, dragged by the green-haired concubine. As soon as his back touched the bed, the woman pulled the dagger her out, and let go of his mouth. Vigil saw the delicate hand holding the blade trembling, before he noticed her green eyes. The same eyes he had seen display arousal, and affection to the Sultan were now looking at him with a mix of unmatched hatred, and fury as well a hint of terror. “..W..Why?” Haakim asked in a pained groan. “....Why… WHY?!” The concubine yelled in a fury that startled the still surprised assassin. “YOU DARE ASK ME WHY?!” she stressed her anger by stabbing him in the stomach once again. “You’ve been abusing me for years!” She stabbed him again, this time right in the chest, perforating one of his lungs. ”You made me touch you..” She stabbed him again as he let out strangled cries for help. “Caress you…” the blade came out of him, and went right back in. “Kiss you…” His cries became quieter as the blade pierced him again. “Bite you…” His movements slowed a lot. “Lick you…” His hand fell heavily on the mattress. “Suck you…” The Sultan didn’t make a noise now. “Yo-you made me fuck you!!!!” She slashed his belly open at that last one. “AND YOU DARE ASK ME WHY?!!!”         She kept stabbing him as quickly as she could under the eyes of the assassin. Blood soiled the bed sheets at the same time as it soiled her clothes, and her body. Vigil had found that girl beautiful when he saw her seducing the Sultan, but now that he was seeing her covered in blood, repeatedly plunging a dagger in a now lifeless body, an expression of a feral desire to maim on her once gentle face, Vigil couldn’t stop himself from thinking the girl was magnificent.         The sound of something, or someone heavy hitting the locked door of the chamber brought the tall assassin out of his reverie. He put his dagger back in its scabbard, and quickly went to the bed. He grabbed the concubine’s forearm, interrupting her stabbing-frenzy. “That’s enough!” Vigil stated with force as the girl looked at him in the eyes. “He’s dead!”         The girl shook like a leaf after Vigil stated the obvious, her eyes still showing the same hatred as before, but terror had overcome it now. The girl was terrorized by what she had just done. She let go of the blood-soaked blade, and looked at what she had done. Vigil picked his second dagger up, cleaned it on the Sultan’s robe, sheathed it before he saw the girl standing up to lean against the nearest wall while her gaze remained on the dead Sultan on the bed. After she stared at the sieve of a man Haakim of Nadira had become, she gagged a couple of times, and then threw up on the ground.         Vigil felt another pang sympathy for the girl as he remembered that he hadn’t been much different of her after his first kill years ago, but he made his way to the balcony. The girl was too busy to see him leave so he reached for the stone railings without any problem. He jumped off the balcony just before he heard the doors of the chamber break down. Vigil had levitated himself when he had fallen to the point where his own two feet were about two feet above the ground, thus breaking the momentum of the fall. He quickly changed the form of his clothes into ones of a random servant. As many guards, and servants alike rushed to the West-wing in hurry, no one bothered Vigil’s escape. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                  With both his parents dead, and the facts the Sultan hadn’t married nor sired an heir yet, it fell on Haakim’s favorite’s shoulders to rule for now, and the first thing she took care of was to sentence the green-haired concubine to death for the murder of Sultan of Nadira. She had confessed killing Haakim, so there had been no need for a trial, and she was to be executed at the first light of dawn.         Farah, the favorite, hadn’t been pleased by the green-haired girl’s confession. Since her arrival years ago, Farah had only been hating the younger girl for drawing the Sultan’s attention from her. She wasn’t the only one in the Harem to feel like that, none of them realizing that she wanted nothing but to get out of the West-wing. Most of the women in the Harem were also angry that she had confessed immediately: Like Farah, they had hoped the guards would have to force the confession out of her, by all means possible.         The green-haired concubine had been placed in the dirtiest cell of the dungeons, and given the filthiest tunic the guards could find. Favorite’s orders, the guards had replied after she asked why she had to take the clothes she was wearing off, though they didn’t take the bands on her wrists off. She didn’t argue, and got changed under the sly smirks of the guards, and their approving eyes. Another order of the Favorite had been to always keep an eye on her.         The worst had been when she had to use the rusty bucket they had given her as toilet. She endured the cat calls, and mocking whistles with as much pride as she could gather while she relieved herself. She only needed to remain strong for a few hours, and then Death would finally deliver her from her five-year-long imprisonment. The Harem had been rather comfortable, but she felt as trapped inside it as she was inside this mediocre cell. She figured the new shift had started when two new guards entered the dungeons before those who had been watching over her left. Dawn must be near.... All will be over soon. She thought with a brief sigh as she brought her knees to her chest while the two armored men stood at each side of her cell.         Five minutes later, the peaceful silence was broken by one of the two guards. “So, why are you here?” he asked casually as if he was talking to one of his fellow guard.         The prisoner blinked in surprise at the question, and at the voice that had come from the guard’s mouth. She had heard this voice once not so long ago, but it hadn’t belonged to a guard. She looked up from her knees to the bars of her cell. Thanks to the torch he had put in equilibrium on the floor and against the lower bars, she could see he was crouched down to her level. Thanks to the faint orange glow, his eyes stood out in the obscurity. The same blue eyes that had been forceful when he interrupted her, yet those azure orbs were calm, and patient now. “...You?” “Yes, me,” Vigil replied quietly before she glanced at the guard at the other side of her cell. “He won’t be a problem.”         He pointed casually up the back of the guard’s neck, making her notice the faintly glowing dart buried in his flesh. “.....When did you do that?” she asked in an awed voice. “Just before I talked to you,” Vigil stated calmly, drawing the prisoner’s attention back on him. “Now, could you answer my question? I asked first after all.” “I’m here because I killed the Sultan,” she said with annoyance. “You were there…” “Exactly,” Vigil stated softly. “I was there, but you didn’t mention me… You could have made a story up, and you’d be in the Harem with the other concubines…” “The Harem is a prison just like this cage!” She snarled angrily, waving at the bars between them. “The women in it are just too stupid to see it… “ “I’ve never lived in one, so I’ll have to believe you on that,” Vigil admitted softly. “But, you still could have lied to protect your life.” “The Kizlar Agha heard my screaming, and found me covered in blood….” “You were found throwing up at the sight of the bloody mess the Sultan had become, without the dagger that killed him, and as far as I know, you managed to convince everyone you loved the Sultan very much… You even had me fooled,” he added with a pang of admiration. “You could have lied your escape from the executioner’s blade.” “Maybe I could have,” the girl admitted slowly. “Though, the only reason the favorite didn’t have me killed before today was because she feared the Sultan’s reaction...  Even if I had convinced everyone I was innocent, Farah would have found a way to get rid of me once she was done mourning him.” “The favorite doesn’t seem to appreciate your company,” Vigil commented slowly. “Farah is nothing but a fat, jealous, ugly cow!” The girl fumed, green sparks of fire surging from the tip of her fingers. “Now, I’ve seen her, and she’s far from ugly or fat,” Vigil commented casually, his eyes lowering to the thick metallic bracelets on the girl’s wrists. “She’s just pregnant, and while she’s clearly not as beautiful as you that doesn’t make her ugly… Unless you speak of her personality,” he added, not seeing the faint blush on the captive’s cheeks. “Those are made of lead, aren’t they?” “..Y..Yes,” she stammered in response as he pointed at her bracelets. “How long have they been making you wear those things?” Vigil asked slowly, his tone slightly angered. “...Since the day I was shipped in Camelu to be bought by the Sultan,” she replied, her voice shaking at her own words. “.....How old were you?” Vigil asked slowly, causing the girl to look straight in his eyes. “......Twelve,” she replied in a single breath after a short silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “....... Did the Sultan…” Vigil started, shocked by her answer. “As soon as I got here,” she replied before he finished his sentence as genuine tears of sadness rolled down her cheeks. “...What’s your name, girl?” “Why do you ask?” the captive asked as she wiped her tears away. “Because I like to know the name of the people I’m going to kill,” Vigil stated slowly as he stood up tall before the bars that separated him from a shocked, and terrified green-haired girl, one hand going for the scimitar at his belt. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~         The same day, at dusk, ...         Farah, Sultan Haakim’s favorite, and future mother of the next Sultan, was extremely content with herself. The whore who had slayed her beloved was no more. The guard’s suggestion to torture her more before her execution had been a success. Listening to that girl’s pathetic tale from outside the dungeons had been a fantastic way to recover from the loss of the Sultan. Her panicking shouts before she heard the blade cutting her neck had been even better.         The two guards had come out with the green-haired woman’s head in a wooden chest rimmed with gold and gemstones, like she had ordered them to do once the job was done. The captive’s terrorized expression would always be the last image she would have from the girl, and it was just perfect for Farah. Though it disturbed the other women of the Harem that the favorite had placed the chest in the center of their common room as a warning for all those who would cross her.         Farah had been in the Harem’s temple since supper, praying for the soul of the late Sultan when a young servant quickly barged inside as if Discord was after her. “Mistress! I apologize for barging in the temple like that, but something’s wrong with the chest,” the servant explained quickly in a submissive, and apologetic tone. “What do you mean?” Farah asked in confusion, her prayer momentarily forgotten. “You should just come and see, mistress,” the younger woman replied with a bow. “You’re not going to believe it if I try to tell you.”         Frowning in suspicion, and puzzlement, the Favorite followed the servant-girl to the common room of the Harem where most of the other women, and a large deal of the eunuchs and servants were massed around the pedestal on top of which the chest had been placed. All made way for the Favorite, and she quickly froze like at the sight of the chest like everyone else.         A bright green light emanated from within the chest itself, projecting a matching, linear halo accross the room, and the people who started at it with unease. Some of the more scared girls whispered to each other, saying nonsense about the Horse God Titania’s vengeance for the brutal execution of one of her daughters. Panicking whispers prospered throughout the room before all gazes turned toward the Favorite. She bit her lip before shoving the servant that had called in the temple forward. “Open it!” she ordered sternly. “...B-But..” “OPEN IT!!” Farah yelled angrily, causing the girl to wince in fear.         The young servant gulped nervously, and slowly went close to the glowing chest. Many girls in the room held their breaths when her hands were rested on top of the chest’s lid. She tensed in fear before pushing the lip open with vigor. The green light shone brightly through the entire room briefly before it lessened in intensity. “What’s glowing like that?” Farah asked with impatience after the servant looked at the source of the light. “It’s… a..an inscription on her forehead, mistress,” the girl stammered uneasily as she stepped aside from the chest.         Farah blinked in stupor before she went to check for herself. The whore’s head was still in the chest, her long green hair still occupying most of the space, and her face was still torn apart in a frown of terror. The only thing different about the head was that glowing, green engraving that laid proudly on the beheaded girl’s tanned forehead. Farah narrowed her eyes to see what the engraving was saying. “...Everything is permitted for Nothing is true,” the Favorite whispered the engraved words in confusion.         Immediately after the words left her mouth, the whore’s head bursted into green flames, earning shrieks of surprise from the Favorite, and many of the people in the room. It only last for a second, and when the flames died down, Farah looked again inside the chest before her jaw dropped.         Instead of the whore’s head, it was the head of one of the two guards that had given the chest to the Favorite. Her shocked face didn’t get the time to change into a frown of fury for having been deceived, as faint hisses came from within the chest. Farah looked closer and saw four small, spheric items lying in each corner of the chest that had been hidden by the long green hair. Each sphere had a string that came out of it, and each string was quickly getting consumed by greenish sparks. “What in the world…” Farah let out as the sparks reached the inside of the black spheres.  And thus the bloodline of the greatest Sultan Camelu had ever known, Murad the Fourth, was shattered into oblivion, and disappeared from the Sultanates’ future. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~         Her green gaze was losing itself in the infinite blue of the sea around her. The wind getting caught in her hair, and the smell of the sea spray tickling her nostrils was something entirely new for her. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she was certain that freedom felt, and smelled something just like that. “Try to not fall overboard,” Vigil’s voice made the former concubine jump in surprise before he placed his arms on the ship’s rail. “This part of the ocean is quite cold.” “I’ll be careful….” She glanced furtively at the giant of a man at her right, who still towered her despite being slumped on the railing. “...Thank you for taking me with you.” she whispered gently. “It’s nothing but an exchange of friendly services.” Vigil waved off casually. “You did the job I was paid for in my stead, I had to do something to help you out.” “Still, I don’t think I could ever repay you for that,” the former concubine added softly. “Well, I’m not exactly done with that, so you’ve got time to think about that,” Vigil said matter-of-factly. “...What do you mean?” she asked in confusion. “You got rid of my target, I’ll help you do so with yours,” Vigil explained slowly. “..... I don’t have any target…” “Not even the people who sold you?” Vigil asked, his tone cool, and even as the concubine stared at him with shock. “Do you know….” “He said he was friend of my mother,” she replied in a whisper. “He wore a mask, and never told me his name….” “You’ll find him,” Vigil stated slowly. “It’ll take time, but you will.” “I don’t really believe you, and what will I do if I even find him?” the girl snapped in a shaken voice. “I’ll do what?! Jiggling my body at him until he drops dead?! Because that’s all I can do!” “Well, you’ve got the perfect body to do so, but it’ll be a much too sweet way for him to go,” Vigil remarked softly, his eyes scanning the sea as a deep blush spread on the seventeen-year-old’s cheeks. “You just need to develop a rather particular set of skills for once you do find him,” he explained calmly. “What set of skills?” she asked after a few seconds to calm down her blush. “The same set I have,” Vigil stated with a small smile as he faced the girl. “The same set of skills I developed in the Hive.” “The Hive?” she asked in confusion. “What’s that?” “The cradle of the secular organization I belong to,” Vigil explained with his voice barely above a whisper. “The home of the Changelings.”