//------------------------------// // Orders In The Night // Story: Leap of Faith // by A bag of plums //------------------------------// It was just after two in the morning in the city of Trottingham. The world lay in quiet slumber, awaiting the first rays of the sun to bring warmth and light back to it again, and all was calm and serene. A thin dusting of snow had fallen during the night, giving the entire landscape an almost storybook appearance as it blended beautifully with the multicolored strings of lights that had been set up for the upcoming holiday. Even the increased presence of police officers on the streets couldn’t dampen the overall aura of cheer and tranquility that pervaded the city. High above Trottingham’s central square, a lone figure stood vigil in the belfry of an old cathedral, her long coat flapping in the icy wind. Still as a statue, the only thing that betrayed the fact that she was still alive was the occasional cloud of condensation that escaped her mouth. A scuffling noise from the edge of the belfry made her turn. Her deep purple eyes narrowed as she flexed her gloved hands, unfurling two hidden blades from within her coat sleeves. A hand came up over the railing, then another, followed by a sweating orange face shrouded by a white hood. The first figure relaxed and allowed her blades to retract back into her coat. “High Noon,” she said with a cheeky grin as she helped pull the newcomer up. “What do you have for me?” “Dewdrop,” High Noon slumped against one of the tower supports, panting for breath. “Mentor wanted to give you this.” Reaching into the depths of his coat, High Noon produced a small beige folder and handed it over. Taking the file, Dewdrop lowered her hood and shook out a long mane of sea blue hair before giving her fellow Assassin a dazzling smile. “You came all this way just to give this to me? Oh, you shouldn’t have!” High Noon returned the smile with notably less teeth. While he trusted Dewdrop and respected her skills as an Assassin, he could never feel comfortable around her. Why this was, he couldn’t quite place. “Actually, I came here to pass on a message as well.” “Is that so?” Dewdrop asked pleasantly, thumbing through the file. “Well, you didn’t have to run all the way out here to tell me; my phone would have sufficed.” She walked slowly over to High Noon, her hips swaying gracefully in time with her footsteps. “Or were you just that eager to see me?” She placed a hand on High Noon’s cheek. “I-I… Mentor told me to come out here,” stammered High Noon as his face turned five shades of red. “She said the exercise would do me good, and that there’s been news that you need to hear in person.” “Aw, how nice of her,” Dewdrop slid her hand down High Noon’s cheek and onto his chest. She could feel his heart racing through all the layers of clothing. “And what does our esteemed Mentor have to tell me?” High Noon took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “She wanted me to tell you that Wolfgang’s been spotted.” The change in Dewdrop’s demeanor was immediate. The hand on High Noon’s chest dropped to her side, and the half-lidded eyes sharpened into a concentrated gleam that could have cut glass. Dewdrop spun away from her fellow Assassin in a cloud of lavender-scented perfume, leaving High Noon feeling more than a touch shaken. “Are you sure?” Dewdrop asked quietly, her voice carrying easily on the night breeze. Nodding, High Noon retrieved another file from his coat. From it he took out a handful of photographs, taken by Velvet Breeze at school the very day before. “The novice in Canterlot sent these in to be verified. There’s no doubt about it; it’s Wolfgang.” Dewdrop snatched the photos from his hands. “And by the ‘novice’, you mean Velvet Breeze. She has a name. Use it.” After looking through the snaps of Wolfgang with a nonchalant air, Dewdrop tossed them back to High Noon over her shoulder. “You can tell the Mentor that I’ll be off to Fillydelphia immediately for the assignment. And then I’m going to Canterlot.” “But you can’t!” High Noon protested. “This is the nov- Velvet’s assignment, not yours; protocol says you have to return to the bureau after every mission. With so few of us left, it’s important to-" High Noon babbled on, but Dewdrop had long since stopped listening. She ran over the calculations in her head as she adjusted her coat, stashing her assignment inside a concealed pocket. If she timed it right... and her target was where the file said they would be… she might just be able to make it. Striding confidently to the edge of the belfry, Dewdrop’s progress was suddenly halted by a hand on her upper arm. High Noon’s eyes were full of fear as Dewdrop rounded on him, towering over him like a snow ghost. Although he was the elder of the two, there was no doubt that Dewdrop was more formidable. He almost let go, but his loyalty to the Creed kept his hand in place. “Let me go,” Dewdrop said frostily. Her free arm tensed up as she waited for her associate to comply. But High Noon would not be cowed, not even by her. “No. Not unless you give me your word that you’ll follow protocol and come back after Fillydelphia.” Dewdrop glared daggers at High Noon, who managed to keep the eye contact for almost a minute before glancing to the right. In that short moment of distraction, Dewdrop dropped to one knee and swept her leg in a horizontal arc, knocking High Noon over onto his back. “Screw protocol.” Without waiting for High Noon to get back up, Dewdrop ran full pelt at the belfry railing, mounting it with one foot and leaping up and out into the snowy void. For a second she hung in the freezing air, perpendicular to the ground. Then she plunged down, flipping over once before landing with a faint whoomph in a snowy shrub. From the top of the cathedral tower, High Noon looked on with despair as Dewdrop rolled out of the bushes and sprinted for a nearby shed where her motorbike was kept. A cry of frustration rose up in his chest and he punched the railing, splitting the skin on his knuckles. High Noon could only watch helplessly as a dark motorcycle and its white-clad rider tore out of the shed a moment later, kicking up the snow as it raced out of Trottingham. Sunset Shimmer peered out through the tiny slits that were cut into the school locker. She stood stock still, with only her cyan eyes darting back and forth in the dark. Her left hand rested on the catch, keeping the locker from clicking shut while still giving the appearance that it was. She shifted her leg ever so slightly. Pins and needles were beginning to set in, but that was a small price to pay if her plan worked. She craned her neck to look down at her phone screen, squinting as the glare hit her eyes. Three minutes until lunch. With everyone else at study hall under the impression that she had gone to the nurse’s office, Sunset had quickly set about finding the closest empty locker near the science lab and hidden herself inside as quietly as possible. This time, Sunset thought with determination, I’ll be the one doing the surprising. She tucked her hand into her pocket where the party invitation was, slightly bent but all there. Initially her plan had been to hand it to Velvet Breeze at the start of homeroom, but in a stroke of bad luck, Velvet had arrived to class late and Mr. Wolfgang had decided to drop in as well. Not wanting to tarnish Mrs. Harshwhinny’s reputation any more, she had wisely kept at her own desk and waited until the end of class, but somehow in the mad rush to get to the next period, the white coated girl had vanished again. It infuriated Sunset that Velvet was constantly just out of her reach, all the while being right in the same building. With one last cursory glance out her peephole, Sunset silently lifted her hand off the catch and stepped out of the locker, making sure to shut it as soundlessly as possible. She crept over to the science lab door and peeked in. Mr. Discord was sitting at his desk, building a house of cards out of post-it notes while his class was busy packing away their things, chatting quietly amongst themselves. She searched for Trixie; she had mentioned that Velvet sat next to her in class. All she had to do was find Trixie, and… “Aha,” Sunset smiled. There she was, sitting near the back of the class and zipping up her courier’s bag and straightening her coat. Velvet’s expression remained blank as Trixie said something that was clearly meant to be a joke, offering Sunset a brief moment of amusement as Trixie’s face twitched with annoyance at the lack of positive feedback. The bell rang, signaling the beginning of lunch period. The halls began to flood with students from classes all over campus, all united in the single-minded desire to fill their stomachs. However, the cafeteria was on the other side of the campus; there wasn’t any chance of her losing sight of Velvet in a crowd here. As the door to the science lab swung open and the class began to trickle out, Sunset Shimmer kept her eye out for Velvet’s distinctive white coat. For the smallest moment, a white sleeve flashed in her field of vision, and without thinking, Sunset’s arm shot out, grabbing hold of the owner’s wrist. Grinning triumphantly, Sunset pulled, looking right into the startled face of… “Hey, what gives?” squeaked a cream colored girl in a white sweater. “Bon Bon?” Sunset gasped in astonishment, letting go. “Sunset Shimmer? What did you grab me for?” “I-I-uh… nothing.” Observing Sunset’s abashed expression for longer than was strictly needed, Bon Bon made a noise of disapproval in her throat and walked after Lyra, who had been watching the scene from the nearby water fountain. “Sorry,” muttered Sunset. The wind completely taken out of her sales, she turned to head over to the cafeteria and almost bumped into someone standing directly behind her. “Gah!” exclaimed Sunset, leaping backward and banging her head on the open science lab door. Velvet Breeze didn’t seem at all affected. “Waiting for someone?” she asked disinterestedly. How did she manage to get past me? Sunset wondered to herself as she rubbed the back of her head. Did she teleport or something? She looked back at Velvet, who had begun to walk away. Not willing to lose her again, Sunset Shimmer lunged forward and caught hold of Velvet’s left arm. She almost wished she hadn’t. For the third time, Sunset found herself caught in those fiery orange spotlights that were Velvet Breeze’s eyes. Her palms grew sweaty and she was forced to avert her gaze, picking the nearest possible item of interest: Velvet’s hairclip. “What do you want, Sunset Shimmer?” the blue girl asked, pulling her arm out of Sunset’s grip, eyes flashing darkly. Forcing her mouth to work, Sunset said, “I… um, wanted to give you this!” she plunged a hand into her pocket, bringing out the glittery pink envelope and presenting it to Velvet Breeze. Taking the envelope, Velvet slipped it into her bag without a word and started off again, only to glare back at Sunset, who had taken hold of her arm again. “What now?” Velvet asked, her expression growing irritated. And Sunset Shimmer simply smiled nervously and said, “Would you… maybe like to join me for lunch?” Normally, Sunset wasn’t too big of a fan of Taco Tuesday. The tortillas were usually soggy and the fillings were more often than not either too salty or not salty enough. Today, however, she felt she could make an exception if it meant not letting Velvet out of her sight. Both girls joined the queue for lunch with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Sunset helped herself to a taco and a bottle of fruit punch while Velvet skipped the main event, instead opting for a fruit salad and a can of iced coffee. The rest of the girls were already seated in the middle of eating by the time Sunset and Velvet got out of the lunch line, all of them looking more than a little surprised by the new arrival. Doing her best to act natural, Sunset took her usual place at the table and motioned for Velvet to sit down next to her. “So…” Sunset said after taking a bite of her taco. “Velvet, these are my friends, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, and Fluttershy,” she pointed each one out in a clockwise direction. Everyone, this is Velvet Breeze, from my homeroom.” “Nice to meet you, Velvet!” Pinkie said, leaning forward to shake Velvet’s hand vigorously. Rarity followed suit. “Velvet, dear. So pleased to make your acquaintance. How are you finding Canterlot High so far?” Velvet Breeze seemed to carefully consider the question before answering. “It’s welcoming enough, I guess. Everyone seems so relaxed.” “Pfft,” scoffed Rainbow Dash. “You kidding? Everyone here’s been more wound up than ever with the midterms on their way. If this is relaxed for you, I’m not sure I’d want to go to your old school.” Putting a cube of melon in her mouth, Velvet shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad.” “Was it hard, moving here from…” Fluttershy trailed off. “Uh, Trottingham. I’m from Trottingham.” Sunset could have sworn she had heard a note of uncertainty in Velvet’s voice in that statement, but before she could continue this line of thought, Rainbow Dash was speaking again. “You mean, Trottingham, Trottingham? The place where there was a murder last week?” “Yeah.” “Must have been a relief to get away from that,” mused Applejack. Shrugging noncommittally, Velvet replied, “I didn’t really notice. Stuff like that’s pretty common where I used to live.” Ignoring the stunned looks of everyone else around the table, Velvet proceeded to crack open her can of coffee and take a long drink. “I didn’t realize Trottingham was so dangerous,” whispered Rarity. “It’s not,” Velvet said, sounding utterly uninterested. “It’s just a matter of not crossing the wrong people.” She has good ears, Sunset noted. How much else has she overheard? Rainbow Dash was looking uncomfortable, which was understandable; only last week she had been fretting over her friends’ safety in Trottingham, and now here was someone who was actually from Trottingham, acting as though it was all part of everyday life. “Aren’t you worried about your friends and family there?” the athlete asked hotly. “The killers haven’t been caught yet. They could still be out there!” “They probably are,” agreed Velvet. “Though just the same I’m not worried. They can take care of themselves.” “Riiiiiight,” Pinkie managed, looking desperate to change the topic to something less morbid. “Uh, how are you getting on for the exams, Velvet? Must have been hard transferring in at the last minute.” “Exams?” For the first time since she had sat down, Velvet Breeze actually looked confused before comprehension dawned a second later. “Oh. Those. I, um, already took them back in Trottingham. My guardian wanted me to come here with a clean slate.” “Wow, you’re lucky…” Stealthily exiting the conversation, Sunset went about finishing her lunch, taking the change to check out their guest up close. The locks of teal and grey hair weren’t exactly messy, but there was a certain lack of care about it just the same, as though Velvet hadn’t brushed it in a long time. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup besides a faint layer of eyeshadow that made her look as though she hadn’t been sleeping well. The rest of her was unremarkable; there was the typical white hooded coat, the jeans and the running shoes. The only other feature that stuck out to Sunset was a thin ribbon of pale fabric that dangled just barely in view out of Velvet’s right sleeve and the familiar smell of antiseptic cream. A bandage? Sunset couldn’t recall it having been there on Friday, and her observation skills were pretty perceptive, honed sharp by years of studying magic. Out of nowhere, she was almost tempted to pull back the sleeve and see what Velvet was hiding, if only to gain some petty satisfaction for all the disappearing acts Velvet had put her through. But then her thoughts went back to Twilight’s letter and the temptation passed. Lost in her ruminations, Sunset jumped as the bell rang to signal the end of lunch period. One by one, the five others got up and disposed of their trash, leaving Velvet and Sunset alone. Okay. Time to get this out of the way. “Say, Velvet,” Sunset said casually. “You know, Trixie told me something interesting yesterday.” Velvet gave her a look, though this time without the eerie undertones that it usually carried. “Oh?” “She said you wanted to know about me. Am I that interesting?” While she kept her face pleasant, Sunset’s voice carried a wary undercurrent. Velvet drained the last of her beverage. “What? Oh. That.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. It just felt like the right thing to do.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I don’t know.” Again, the look of irritation. “Look, Sunset. We should really get to class. I hear the inspector will be in your next period. You should hurry.” Velvet swung her bag up over her shoulder, but Sunset wasn’t about to give up that easily. She situated herself in Velvet’s path, crossing her arms. “Okay,” Sunset said vehemently. “I don’t know what kind of a school you used to go to before here, but at CHS, or heck, anywhere, if you want to know about someone, you ask the person you want to know about, not sneak around behind their back. Why do you care where I live?” Velvet Breeze’s eyes ignited with their trademark glare again, but Sunset forced herself to stare at the other girl’s hairclip, waiting for the onslaught to subside. Finally, Velvet relented, her eyes losing their heated edge. “I don’t. It’s who else might care that’s the issue. That answer your question?” “What?” spluttered Sunset. “That doesn’t answer anything! Tell me the truth, Velvet Breeze!” Pushing past the fiery haired girl, Velvet simply ignored any further questions and opened the cafeteria door. Looking back, she muttered something in a low voice, just loud enough for Sunset to hear. “Nothing is true, everything is permitted. Have a good day, Sunset Shimmer.” Have a good day, Sunset Shimmer. The words reverberated in Sunset’s head as she sat down on her bed and turned up the radiator. It was going to be a cold night, almost freezing, and she was wearing a sweater on top of her pajamas to ward of the evening chill. The rest of the day after lunch had been terribly standard, with Mr. Wolfgang being the only varying factor in the monotony. The inspector had approached her after science class and asked to see her the next morning about her academic record. Sunset had reluctantly agreed, remembering the barely concealed look of despair Principal Celestia had worn back in The Silver Reins. No matter how much Principal Celestia tried to hide it, there was a lot riding on this inspection. If there was anything, anything at all that she could do to make sure the school passed with flying colors, Sunset was willing to do it, even if it meant a little dirt on her records. Sunset opened her bedside cabinet and pulled out her magic journal. She lifted her pen and touched it to the paper, leaving a small black spot on the crisp white sheet. Dear Princess Twilight, she wrote. Then she stopped. There was so much to say, yet none of it seemed important enough to bother Princess Twilight about. The talk with Velvet at lunch had been strange, it was true, but there hadn’t been any evidence to suggest that Velvet was anything more than a girl who had a few screws loose at worst, and at best was still adjusting to CHS. And the meeting with Mr. Wolfgang tomorrow, well. She could already predict what Twilight would say about that. Sunset put pen to paper again and scrawled out, Dear Princess Twilight, How are you doing? Things are getting pretty hectic over here with exams, but we’re all managing. I think it might snow soon, so if you plan on coming over during the holidays, make sure you write ahead of time so we can come pick you up. Good luck with your royal duties, and tell Spike I said hi. Your friend, Sunset Shimmer Capping her pen and putting both it and the journal away, Sunset Shimmer settled herself beneath the covers and rolled onto her side. As she gazed out the open window at the sky, Sunset sleepily thought back to the encounter at lunch. Velvet had seemed so indifferent, so apathetic to the situation in Trottingham that it had almost seemed unreal. Was she really so used to death and violence that it was no more shocking to her than a walk down the street? Or did she just not have anyone back in Trottingham who she cared enough about? Come to think of it, Velvet had only mentioned a guardian, not her parents. Maybe all Velvet needs, Sunset decided before sleep claimed her, is a friend. The brick wall stood tall and daunting in the dappled moonlight. Velvet Breeze stood at its base, measuring, calculating. Still dressed in her school clothes, the dusky blue girl cinched the strap of her bag tight around her body and launched herself at the masonry, grunting as her hands found tiny protrusions in the brickwork. With the reassurance born of hundreds of hours of practice, Velvet swung her left arm upward, catching hold of an old pipe and hauling herself up the wall to a crumbling piece of ornamental awning. Once she was sure it was safe to put her weight on, Velvet shimmied along the strip of stone to an uneven patch of wall that looked like it had been recently repaired. Her prying fingers found another handhold and she continued her ascent, looking about every so often to make sure she was alone. A short while later, Velvet Breeze’s hands closed around the edge of the roof. Using every last ounce of strength left in her arms, she heaved her body up and over the top, rolling onto her back and panting with exertion. After a while she sat up, letting her hood fall back. This rooftop was cluttered and messy, with air vents poking up through the concrete like weeds and an old garden that was dry and barren, littered with crumbling rocks. A couple of old deck chairs lay piled in a corner, the wood warped and stained with age. Keeping crouched down, Velvet carefully navigated the expanse as she crept over to one particular side of the roof and looked down. The next apartment was a scant four meters away, separated by an alley. And on that opposite wall, nearly at eye level, was Sunset Shimmer’s bedroom window. The curtains were thrown wide open, offering Velvet a splendid view of Sunset’s slumbering form. The gold skinned schoolgirl was curled up tight, the very picture of serenity. It almost made Velvet feel guilty for what she was about to do. She got to work, unclasping her bag and opening it with care, trying not to disturb the contents overmuch. First, she drew out a long length of rope, tying it around the rooftop fire escape’s door handle. Looping it around the handle three times, Velvet tied it off around one of the air vents, knotting it twice to be sure it would hold. Next, she selected the most intact of the deck chairs, dragging it quietly over to the rooftop’s edge and setting it down at an angle at the wall, propped up at a slant against the brickwork. She meticulously cleaned up the loose gravel and debris around it until there was a rough square meter of clean concrete. The chill was starting to set in by now, and Velvet would have been lying to herself if she had said that she wasn’t looking forward to this last part. Her breath fanning out in snowy clouds, the white coated girl knelt down at her bag and drew out a large black canister, a bulging plastic bag, and finally, a long silver knife with a specially molded handle. Velvet licked her lips unconsciously as she held the knife in front of her face, glancing past it at the sleeping Sunset. A flicker of disquiet stirred in the pit of her stomach. Poor Sunset. She hadn’t really been that bad of a girl. Was it really the right thing, what she was about to do? Catching sight of her own uncertain face in the blade’s reflection, Velvet Breeze shook her head to clear it and steeled her resolve. No. She thought. It may not feel right, but it’s the only thing I can do. Might as well get it over with. And with that final thought, Velvet Breeze sat herself down behind the upturned lawn chair, reached into the plastic bag with her free hand, and drew out a plump, ripe mango. Unable to keep the grin off her face any longer, Velvet wasted no time in cutting it in half and taking a huge bite, skin and all. Wiping the dribbles of juice off her chin, she set about finishing the rest of the slice, then the other half of the fruit. Next she unscrewed the black canister, closing her eyes appreciatively as the thick, heady smell of black coffee permeated the night air. She helped herself to a sip and recapped the thermos to prevent heat loss. It would be more than seven hours until the sun rose again, but Velvet wasn’t too worried. After all, she still had plenty of mangoes.