The Dusk Guard Saga: Beyond the Borderlands

by Viking ZX

Chapter 3 - Hain

Well, that was a bust, Blade thought as the bar door slammed shut behind her, the wood rattling from the impact. So much for having a place to stay for the night. Or any of the information I was hoping to get.

Well, that last bit wasn’t entirely true. The bartender had told her one little bit of information before he’d thrown her out. Technically two, if she counted not wanting to talk about unicorns at all. But he’d at least had the foresight to return the money she’d paid for the room and the information he hadn’t wanted to give her. Of course, it had taken her waving a still-dull talon under his face to get that concession out of him.

Which is bad news in and of itself, she thought as she moved forward into the town square once more. The sun was just setting, casting a faint orange-and-pink haze over everything, but there was still enough light for her to see that despite her confrontation inside the bar, everything seemed to be carrying on the same as when she’d gone in. Faint voices still drifted across the square, their tones rough and harsh in the faint wind, but as near as she could tell, undirected at her. Two of the warehouses were still open, and she could see a team of ponies carting barrels out and towards the dock.

She turned right, away from the northwest dock, and headed towards the road the bartender had told her about. One of the two pieces of intel she’d asked for had been the set of directions she was now following, a path that would take her towards the eastern side of the small town. The other bit … Well, it hadn’t been something he’d told her. Not out loud. But it was worrying all the same.

Face to face with a warrior griffon who’d just taken down a bunch of thugs inside his bar, and he still wouldn’t tell me anything about unicorns. Or why everyone acted so weird. Or why I haven’t seen any unicorns around town. The wind picked up for a moment, gusting and sending small particles of snow dancing across the road in front of her. The light was getting dimmer, the glow of the sun spitting colors across the sky as it set. There were a few lampposts along the street, but no one appeared to be lighting them.

Still, me standing over a bunch of bodies should have gotten that bartender to say something, she thought as she gave her head a shake, settling her ruff. The wind gusted again, tugging at her feathers, and she tucked her wings closer to her sides. I offered him money and made it clear I wasn’t in the mood for any funny business, but he wouldn’t talk. She frowned, clicking her talons together in irritation. Which means whoever I was asking about, he fears them more than he did me.

She’d already made the observation, but mulling it over in her head once more sent a faint prickle running down her back, hairs rising along her spine. So I guess the question is, were those lowlifes in the bar attacking me for asking about it, or because they’re attached to whoever has that bit of crystal? She clacked her beak open and shut, eyes narrowing. Why can’t you take the easy jobs, Blade?

She passed another intersection, shifting her eyes first right and then left before wandering out across the street, her senses alert for any other traffic. From somewhere down one of the roads a child laughed, a strange sound over the moaning wind. It felt alien. Out of place.

She crossed the intersection, hugging her wings tightly against her sides as the wind picked up. There was a hint of snow falling from the sky now, descending through the last rays of lingering sunlight and drifting back and forth with the wind, and she narrowed her eyes as she made her way across the frozen street, blocking some of the windswept debris. The scent of woodsmoke drifted past on the same breeze, faint but still prickling the inside of her nostrils.

As near as she could tell from her path, the city was laid out like a spider’s web, roads striking out from the central square like spokes from a wheel. Intersections like the one she had just crossed split those spokes into smaller pieces, though judging from the angles of those same streets, not with any great degree of symmetry.

One more block, she told herself as she passed along the street. Ponies were lighting interior lights now, faint patches of warm, yellow brightness that spilled across the street, illuminating the falling haze of snow. Or maybe she was just noticing them now that the sun was down and no longer competing. He said the place you were looking for would be fairly obvious.

She crossed another intersection, her talons scraping against the frozen ground. She was nearing the edge of village now, which meant that she had to be nearby. She ran her eyes up and down the right side of the street, searching for the—

There! Settled right next to a lamppost which had already been lit, just like the bartender had told her about, was a small, sturdy looking home with a peaked roof. She wandered up to it, running her eyes across the shingled roof with its powdering of snow and eyeing the lines. It looked sturdy enough, and the upper windows were well-lit, though she couldn’t see anything through them but the underside of the roof. The windows below that were sealed off, heavy, dark cloth blocking off all but the faintest glimmers of light from deep within.

Well, I hope this is it, Blade thought as she stepped up onto the porch, the dry wood creaking beneath her. It doesn’t look like too bad of a place … There was a small crate sitting next to the door, a familiar, fermented scent drifting out of it. She caught a glimmer of glass reflecting from within it. Bottles.

Wonderful. She brought her talons up in a fist and gave the door a series of sharp, heavy raps with her knuckles, taking a deep breath as the door vibrated. Let’s hope he’s got what I need, she thought. Another gust of wind rattled down the street, heavy enough that she could hear the nearby homes creak. And maybe I should add a place to stay to that list, she thought as she hugged her wings tighter. If not, I’m going to end up curled up in a warehouse somewhere.

She knocked again, harder this time. Come on, she thought as the door shook under her claws. Where are you? She needed answers—and advice—and he was hopefully going to have both. If he didn’t ...

The door jerked open partway, bright light spilling across her and making her eyes reflexively narrow. Someone was standing in the doorway, their figure silhouetted against the well-lit inside, one forelimb on the door handle, and as her eyes adjusted she picked out the shape of his shoulders, the wings held loosely open at his sides, the faint image of a tail flicking in surprise behind his hindquarters. His eyes were open wide in an expression of surprise, but as they narrowed she could see the sharp intelligence behind them. He opened his beak.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice gravelly, like someone was grinding rocks together, or a bit of the Ocean itself had become stuck in his throat. She could smell the faint whiff of alcohol on his breath, but it was faint, and he didn’t look unsteady on his feet.

She ran her eyes up and down his frame, pulling in every detail and comparing them to her memories. He was a little less heavily built than the old picture she’d seen of him, and his body was home to quite a few more scars, but she could still see the faint shades of his original tan plumage and coat concealed beneath the large swaths of grey age. But there was no mistaking the sharpness, the intensity in his brown eyes that was growing more insistent by the moment.

“Well, kit?” he asked, frowning.

She gave her head a quick shake, clearing her mind as she switched over to native griffon. She had to make sure. “Eğer Hain misin?” she asked, pulling herself upright to full attention.

“Speak Equestrian,” he said, scowling. “Of course I’m Hain, who else would I be?” She felt a faint flutter of excitement in her chest. So it was him; her information had been correct.

Hain was looking bored now, his expression flat. “And I already told your clan, chick, I’m free to mind my own business, all right? You’re not affiliated with the Empire, and you’ve got no pull here. Go tell your matriarch or whoever it is now to leave an old griffon alone.” He began to turn, pushing the door shut as he looked away.

“I’m not from the Teardrop Eyrie,” she said, slapping her talons across the front of the door and pushing it back open.

Hain froze, his body stiffening before slowly turning back in her direction. “Then who are you, kit? A newcomer? Just heard there was another griffon in town and thought you’d come say merhaba?” He shook his head, his eyes narrowing at her as she stood stiff, her talons splayed out. He let out a low chuckle.

“No, not with that stance,” he said, cocking his head to one side. “What’s your name, chick?”

“My name is Blade Sunchaser,” she said, relaxing her posture slightly. “From the Windrunner clan.”

Hain nodded. “Talmoss mountains.” He tilted his head to one side again. “But not representing them now, I take it.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I split from the clan some time ago. I’m a wandering claw now.”

“A mercenary, in other words,” Hain said, nodding. “And you came looking for me?” His eyes narrowed, and she could see the faint telltale quiver of the muscles in his body tightening.

“I did,” she said, ignoring the movement. “I’m not attached to the Empire. Not officially. I’m on a contract, and had heard you were in the area.”

She shut her beak with a click as Hain pulled himself up to his full height, eyeing her carefully. Then he sighed and shook his head. “Fine,” he muttered, pulling the door open the rest of the way and jerking his head towards the inside of the house. “Get in here and say your piece. You’re wasting my heat.”

She stepped inside with a nod, noting the way that he watched her as she stepped past. It wasn’t a sensual look, but a hard, critical look she could feel analyzing every inch of her body. So this is what it’s like to meet the legend, she thought as she moved into the room. She locked her own eyes with his, refusing to back down until he rolled his own and made his way across the living room. It’s like being under a microscope.

The home itself was small and straightforward. A wood stove near the side of the room was radiating heat, the faint sounds of popping from within it telling her that it had recently been stoked. A pair of couches sat facing one another, their cushioned surfaces covered with blankets and separated by a small table that sat between them. Beyond the furniture was a small bar that stuck out from the wall, separating the small kitchen from the main room. Two doors off of the kitchen were closed; one probably a bathroom and the other storage.

Above her the home was open, nothing between her and the roof but thick, wooden beams that made up the supports. There was another level built above the kitchen, though she couldn’t see any stairs upward.

Smart, she thought as she dropped herself onto one of the couches. No stairs won’t bother him as long as he can fly, but if anyone else wanted to get up there they’d need wings. And since the home had probably been built by ponies … She scanned her eyes over the wall, the corner of her mouth sliding upward as she located the faint lighter marks on the wall that showed where a set of stairs had been pulled out. He still thinks like a commander, she thought, turning her eyes to the older griffon as he dropped himself back into the couch opposite her, picking up an open bottle from the table and casually tapping it with his talons. His eyes were still locked on her.

“Well?” he said at last. “What do you want?” He tilted the glass back, his beak clicking against it as he took a small swig.

“I came looking for you,” she said. “I’d heard you were living in the Ocean.”

“You found me, kit,” he said, the bottle hitting the tabletop with a ring. She took a small, surreptitious sniff. It didn’t smell alcoholic. “Stop wasting my time. What. Do. You. Want?” He locked eyes with her for a moment and then lifted the bottle to his beak again.

“I need information,” she said as he swallowed. The bartender’s words echoed through her mind. “On a group known around here as ‘the cult.’”

She jerked back as Hain choked, drops of liquid running down the side of his beak as he yanked the bottle away. “You—You what?” he coughed, his eyes wide. “You’re looking for the cult!? What are you, kit? Flying up high in the thin air?” He brought the bottle down with a loud bang. “Why are you asking about the Order of the Red Horn?”

She smirked. “General—”

“Don’t call me that,” Hain snapped, leaning forward and glaring at her. “Do not, ever, call me that. It’s Hain now, are we clear?”

She nodded, and he leaned back, grabbing the bottle once more. “Now,” he said, resettling his wings. “Tell me, why are you looking after the cult?”

“I think they have something,” she said. “I’m being paid to get it back.”

“So you’re under contract for that then. On the job,” Hain stated.

“I am,” she said, nodding. “And being paid quite a bit.”

“So you won’t consider asking them to reconsider?” Hain asked, one feathered brow rising.

She gave him a smirk. “Trust me,” she said, tapping her talons together. “They didn’t hire me because I was the only option. If this ‘cult’ has what I’m being paid to retrieve, then I will get it, one way or another.”

“Or die trying?” Hain suggested. There was a tone to his voice that irked her, like his statement had been part way through a question and general declaration. “What are you retrieving?”

“That’s for me to know,” she said, shaking her head. Doesn’t hurt that my employer doesn’t really know themselves. “As is how much I’m being paid. But I came here tailing a unicorn—”

Hain scoffed, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “If it’s a unicorn you’re after, and they willingly came here, then they’re most likely cult.” He lifted his bottle, eyed it for a moment as if weighing taking a drink, and then set it back down again with a shake of his head. “The odds are stacked against you, kit.”

“Well, maybe you can help even it,” she said, resting her forward limbs on the floor as she leaned forward. “It’d help if I knew who this ‘cult’ was. I hadn’t heard anything about it before now.”

Hain gave his head another shake, his tail lashing idly. “They’re unicorn supremacists,” he said. “A cult that believes that it’s the unicorn race’s duty to rule over all other races. Maybe exterminate them. They follow some ancient dark lord or something that they keep insisting is coming back. They’ve been around for a long time, but they were always quiet, just little nudges here and there, until about twenty or so years ago.”

“What happened?”

“A unicorn called ‘Sagis’ took over the cult,” Hain said, rolling his talons over the wooden table in a steady, rhythmic cadence. “I wasn’t here for long before that, but up until that point I guess the cult had always been quiet. Background. Little groups here and there. But that wasn’t good enough for him.”

“An idealist,” Blade said.

“Worse,” Hain countered. “A visionary. An intelligent one. He took the cult public, banded them together. They went from a scattered bunch of speciesists to a legitimate power overnight. You’re familiar with the pirate groups?” He cocked an eye at her.

“Not really,” she admitted. “I know they exist.”

Hain nodded. “Well, Sagis isn’t stupid. They started making themselves known around the Ocean, pressuring towns, ponies, that sort of thing. Preaching unicorn supremacy, all that bunk. Started to vie with the pirates and the local militias for control—you know, pushing the limits, testing them, stuff like that.”

“What happened?”

Hain shrugged. “Nobody was quite sure what to do. Probably why he was able to get away with it.”

“Away with what?”

“The cleansing,” Hain said. “The cult brokered an alliance with one of the pirate gangs, the Bloodhooves. Started using them as hired muscle, and their first target was a rival pirate group. The Black Ear gang. They hit hard, and they hit fast. With the cult providing magical back up, they razed the entire Black Ear fleet. Captured a bunch of ships. Took huge swaths of the Ocean to claim as their own. Then they took the villages.”

“Like this one,” Blade said. It certainly explained the reaction from the bartender. “Standard operating procedure.”

Hain nodded. “So you do have a head on your shoulders,” he said. She ignored the jibe.

“Anyway,” he continued, “that’s exactly what they did. They called it a ‘cleansing.’ They raided all the cities across the Ocean, every boat they could find. Any unicorn that wouldn’t join them … they killed. Or captured.”

“When did this happen?”

“About twenty years ago,” Hain said.

“Well, that explains why I didn’t see any unicorns,” Blade said.

Hain gave her another, slower nod. “Exactly. There’s still one or two out there, but at this point, if somepony is a unicorn, odds are you’d best be looking for the red band on their horn.”

“What about the pirates?” she asked.

“There’s one other group of pirates left out there,” Hain said. “The Cragtooths. Far as I know, they’re still fighting back against the cult and the Bloodhooves both, but they’re pretty much pushed back to a small section of the Ocean and their home base.”

“And the griffons?” she asked. “Teardrop Eyrie?” The Empire had given up colonizing the Ocean during the last regency war, but there was still an unaffiliated Eyrie that had stayed behind to fend for itself.

“Pushed back to the Eyrie itself,” Hain said, his face grim. “They had a second colony that they were developing, out on Pinnacle Rock.” He scowled. “The cult pushed them out, slaughtered hundreds of them. They call it the Bloody Tip now. Use it as their base of operations.”

“So basically, they rule the Ocean,” Blade said, sinking back.

“Not in any specific sense,” Hain said. “Their enforcers keep the villages in line and abduct any unicorn children that are spotted, and they demand a ‘tax’ from the dredger fleets, but their grip is tenuous at best. As you might imagine, your ‘cousins’ at the Eyrie have held them off. The Cragtooths do a pretty good job of it too.”

“And you?” she asked, looking right at him. “Why didn’t you help the Eyrie?”

Hain’s face froze before becoming a glare so cold she wouldn’t have been surprised to see frost on her feathers. “They don’t want my help,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “I’m Hain, remember?” He took another swig from his glass.

“So this ‘Order of the Red Horn’ pretty much has everyone scared and runs the Ocean like they own the place huh?” She said, ignoring the older griffon’s outburst. Her talons clicked together, the still dull-trimmed edges sliding over one another, and she gave them an annoyed look. Never trimming these again, she thought as she splayed them out once more, looking back up at Hain. “And they’ve got what I came for?”

Hain’s eyes narrowed. “Most likely,” he said, his voice back to normal. “Were they in Equestria at any point, or did they pick it up from someone?”

“In,” she said. “Blue coat. Cutie mark of a watching eye.”

“I can’t say I know who it is,” Hain said, shrugging. “But yeah, most likely cult.”

“Fine,” she said. “Do you know someone who might know for sure?”

Hain leaned back, a curious look on his face. “You’re going to go after this anyway?”

“It’s my contract.”

“You could die.”

“Not a problem.” She leaned forward. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve come close. And a cult doesn’t scare me.”

“It should,” Hain countered. “They’re dangerous.”

“Is that why you’re not doing anything about them, Hain?” she asked, drawing out his name. “I know who you are. Who you were.”

“Kit …” he growled, his voice low. “I already told you not to bring that up.” His voice was taking on a faint accent with every low rumble, a familiar, accented rhythm.

“You have talents I want, Hain,” she said, ignoring his darkening mood. “You’ve been here a long time. Depsite that, I’m guessing those talents haven’t atrophied. Your removal of the staircase says that. A general—”

“I told you, do not to call me that,” Hain barked, his voice rising in volume.

“—former commander,” she continued without missing a beat, “such as yourself surely knows sapients. Useful sapients. You know the Ocean. And you know war.” Hain’s ruff was up, fluffed as his eyes grew hard. “Which is why,” she finished, “I want to hire you.”

Hain’s head snapped back in surprise, his wings flaring out slightly. Then he laughed. “Against the cult? You’re joking, chick.”

“I’m not,” she said, giving him the ghost of smile as she leaned back. “I know who you were. I’ve studied your work—even the stuff the Empire couldn’t sterilize.” She saw the slight tightening of his claws as she mentioned his past and decided to duck away. Probably best not to push that button too hard, she thought. Overdoing it might push him too off balance to want to help me with anything.

“You have skills I need, contacts out here on the ice—as well as local knowledge—that I don’t have. If I’m going to complete my job, I’m going to need someone who can provide that. That’s why I came to you: because I needed information, but because I also figured I’d need an ally, and everything you’re telling me says I will.”

“I’m a hain. Onur olmadan tek,” he said once more, a look of curiosity on her face. “You know what that means.”

“And I don’t care,” she said, leaning forward. “All I care is whether or not you’re the one with the skills and information I’ll need.”

Hain brought up one talon and rubbed it gently across his chin, parting the feathers there. “To get your little … package back?” He frowned. “It’s not a sapient, is it?”

“Furthest thing from it,” she said, shaking her head.

“And they’re paying you well, whoever ‘they’ are,” Hain said. “This package must be very important to somepony, otherwise you’d have already thanked me for the information and left. Instead, it sounds like you want to steal something from one of the most powerful groups on the Ocean. Or worse.”

“Whatever it takes to get the package back,” Blade said, clicking her talons together. “That’s what I’ll do. The semantics don’t matter.”

“Ilginç.” Hain dropped his talon and stared at her for a moment. Then he shook his head. “No,” he said, rising from his couch. “I’ll give you information on who might be able to tell you what you need but—”

A loud creak echoed through the room and Hain froze, his voice cutting off as he looked towards the door. “Who else is with you?” he asked.

“No one,” Blade said, eyeing the door. Hain hadn’t taken his eyes off it.

“Did you ask anyone else around the town about this individual you’re looking for?” he asked, his voice firm.

“At the bar,” she said, frowning. “There were a couple of locals that took issue with it and tried to pick a fight—”

“Atalarının mezarları, kiti,” he said, glaring at her. “Those weren’t locals.”

In a flash she understood. The tattoos, the weapons. Of course they weren’t locals. She lifted herself from the couch, tensing every muscle in her body as a thump sounded outside the door. They’d been pirates. Bloodhoof pirates.

“And you brought them right to me,” Hain said, glaring daggers in her direction. “You—”

Whatever he said next was drowned out as the door crashed open, the frame splintering as the lock smashed through it. A deafening roar filled the room as an immense, red-coated minotaur stepped through the broken frame, ducking as his horns scraped against the top of the doorframe. His chest and arms were covered in tattoos like the ones she’d seen on the ponies at the bar. A warhammer was clutched in one hand, and as he looked at them, his face lit up in a grin. Behind him, she could see at least a dozen earth ponies and pegasi milling around outside the door, all armed.

Well, so much for talking things through, she thought, returning the minotaur’s grin as he lifted his hammer. Her talons were itching, her wings quivering and heart pumping as she glanced in Hain’s direction. Too late now to make up for mistakes, she thought as the minotaur opened his mouth. But maybe we can have some fun.

“Bloodhooves …” the minotaur bellowed. “Kill them both!”