The moonlight dimly lit Octavia's quiet bedroom. Corporal Sentry was still awake in the guest room upstairs. The musician did not want him to be too close to her during the night hours, so they were separated in the home. It was risky being alone, but Octavia preferred it over having him nearby.
She was sitting upright on her bed, her hair and gown readied for the night. Her cello rested in the corner, not played for the day. No playing meant no work for Octavia which meant no money earned. It had been a quick and unsteady day, full of worry and unpredictability. Her hands never took hold of the iconic instrument so its lovely music was mute all day.
Octavia sighed and reached under her bed. Once her hand felt the object she was looking for, she slid it out into the dim light. The shining blade of a well-fashioned sword gleamed in the moonlight. It was a delicate sword given to her by Empress Luna when she trained under her. Its graceful Canterlotian features like a smooth hilt and a curving hand-guard could still be seen. The slight curve in the blade finished its elaborate appearance. It was a blade for the wealthy gifted to a simple cellist like her. Though she rarely carried it or used it, it was now the object of safety in her eyes.
"Her Highness may be right that the Assassins outmatch me, but I shall never give myself up freely even if the Old Dragons come after me," she told herself.
As she stood up, she gave a few practice swings with her blade. The equilibrium of blade and handle was perfect. Imaginary foes were hacked by her vicious attacks at the air. With a few tricky spins of the sword, she breathed with satisfaction.
"Heh, many can swing a sword. It's when they are under pressure that their skill actually shows."
Octavia jumped at the voice that was just in the corner of her room. There, by the only other window in the room was the shadow of the masked Assassin. Her arms were crossed casually and her white robes appeared gray in the light.
"How did you slip in so quietly?" Octavia asked, astounded.
"Practice," the Assassin answered. "So, Tavi, I see that you ran your little tail to the Empress eh? Got ya a nice hunk of a guy too. Did ya really think that would stop me?"
"I could only hope. However, I keep faith in myself. You shall not harass me any longer!"
Octavia pointed the sword threateningly at the intruder. She expected the Assassin to laugh boldly or mock her, but instead, the intruder pulled out a flintlock pistol from her sash and pointed it at her. Octavia knew the gun well as it was rising in popularity with the Royal Guards. One wrong move and she would be dead.
"I am a valued target, you cannot kill me," Octavia said confidently. "I know this because I bet I would be dead if I weren't."
"But nothing against harming ya," the Assassin finished.
"And all you want is to know my life story? Why?"
The Assassin shrugged. "The Grandbearer is curious. It's our business to know everything that goes on in this city. Hell, make that the world. So I ask you nicely. You are a cellist, lower class, yet you have been trained by the Empresses themselves! I can only think of one other that can say that: Prince Shining Armor."
"If I tell you, will you let me be?"
"Well, if ya tell the truth, yes. And if that truth doesn't involve you being some manipulative fiend trying to trick the Two Sisters."
Octavia lowered her sword. "Do I have your word, Assassin?"
"Yeah."
The curt answer did not satisfy the musician. However, the woman lowered her pistol and returned to her casual position by the window. Octavia wished that the Assassin would have more care in the matter, but it was not so. With a deep breath, she shuffled her feet and began to speak.
"When I was little, I grew up only with my mother. She had chosen a wandering man to be her husband. Lo and behold, he continued wandering, leaving me with her. Instead of marrying again or even seeking a job, she refused to do anything but remain poor. Her only talent was music, she played various instruments. I did not take interest in a lute or flute, so I chose the cello. She did not know anything about cellos, so she placed me under a master who did. His name is Sir Parish Nanderhood.
"From when I was eight, I spent six years under him, learning the cello day by day. I grew bored of him and his parties. He never amounted to anything but an annoying snob. I am grateful for what he taught me, but I know he could not teach me anything in the way of intelligence. So I took my cello and ran. I ran back to mother, who was still as poor and husband-less as ever. So I ran some more. Right into the arms of Empress Celestia. My 15 year-old self pleaded for sanctuary in her Grand Palace. Unexpectedly, she gave it to me.
"From then on, I played my cello in the streets for money and spent nights in the Palace. I was a student. I wanted to know everything, so I made them teach me as much as they could. However, the Two Sisters wished not to be seen with me. If word got out that they would care for any stray child who knocked their door, chaos would ensue among both nobles and peasants. So like a mother I never had, Celestia taught me like one of her own. Like all royalty, I was taught how to wield a sword and basic forms of self-defense. I was taught to read, but I still struggle with such things. I blame my lack of determination for that.
"With only a small donation and my earnings from my cello playing, I bought this place. Been here ever since. I still beseech Her Highness almost weekly. She is wise and so is her sister. They are my mothers while my true mother still reeks of poverty and laziness. That is the reason I am doted upon by royalty."
The Assassin did not say anything for a moment. Octavia could only guess she was still processing the quick story. The masked woman huffed once and leaned on one foot.
"That's it? Wow, kinda boring if ya ask me. I was expecting something more! You know, like big fights, old ancestor rivalries, you're related to them by a cunning uncle, that sort of thing. Naw, it's jus' that you gave a cute sad face and they went "aww how cute!" and took ya in."
The Assassin's mockery stung Octavia. "By the Sun! You are insensitive and a jerk! I'm telling the truth!"
"So ya aren't Templar?"
"What?"
"Ah, never mind. Well, I'll still watch you, because I don't entirely believe ya. I jus' won't be....upfront about it."
Octavia stomped her foot. "You gave me your word!"
"Hey! I agreed to "let you be" not "forget you." As you know, I'm an Assassin, I don't jus' lie."
"Hmph! That girl did earlier today! She said she wasn't an Assassin, but a farmer."
"Who? Apple Bloom? Oh yeah, she ain't an Assassin. What ya think, we'd have little kids like that in our ranks? She is a farmer. She just proud and all because her big sis's a Bearer," she chuckled.
"What's a Bearer?"
The Assassin squeaked. "Nothing! I'm the one giving questions, not you!"
Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open and Corporal Sentry dove in. He pushed Octavia to the side and pounced on the Assassin. The woman reached for her pistol but was unable to grab it in time. The Guard pushed her to the ground and used the weight of his armor to pin her down.
"Octavia! Get her weapons!"
The musician sprung to action and reached for the Assassin's sash. The masked intruder struggled with the Guard. Her free hand waggled about before projecting a long thin blade from under her wrist. Octavia jumped back as the blade was swung about madly.
"Get off! I'll kill ya!" the Assassin screamed.
The Assassin angled the wrist blade towards Sentry's back. With a quick reaction, the musician took hold of the Assassin's arm and pulled it away from the Guard. As her last attempt at freeing herself was foiled, the Assassin gave up with a grunt.
The royal Guard looked at Octavia. "Get that thing off her."
Octavia looked at the strange wrist device. It was buckled up with leather straps that kept the contraption close to the arm. She started undoing the straps until it was loose enough to slip off. She held it in the light for a moment. It was nothing she had ever seen before. The device chilled her and she threw it on her bed with a frightened twitch.
Sentry took the free arm and pinned it to the Assassin's back with the other one. The intruder was now under his control and the situation calmed down slightly.
"You don't know what ya doing!" the Assassin yelled.
"Quiet!" Sentry demanded. "Don't try to resist. If you act nicely, I'll get you to the Dungeons alive."
Octavia lit a candle and rested it on her small table. The light was bright enough to illuminate the room. The Assassin's black mask squirmed about still and her legs went up and down.
"How 'bout we take the mask off?" The Guard suggested.
"I'll do it," Octavia said simply and proceeded to remove the mask.
Like before, bright magenta eyes met her, only this time they were full of rage. The Assassin's face was younger than she sounded. A tone of healthy complexion was riddled with small and large scars. One in particular ran from the left side of her nose to her lips. It was easy to tell how many struggles she had endured.
"Take a good look at it," the Assassin sneered. "Ya won't see it again."
"Please. Tough talk from one who is being arrested," the Guard laughed. "Octavia, could you fetch me some rope?"
The Assassin sat in her chair with relative peace, if one would count the constant snarl and hateful glare as peaceful. Sentry and Octavia stood with their arms folded. The moon had fell behind the mountain and now the only light source was a single candle.
"I don't think a kitchen is a good interrogation room," the Assassin muttered.
"You sure like complaining..." Sentry observed.
"Assassin, I want your name," Octavia asked quickly, ignoring the prattle from before.
"Too bad! My identity is mine to keep."
"Alright then. I want to know why my relationship with the Empresses would matter so much to you and your Brotherhood."
"Try harder, lass," the woman growled.
Sentry pulled out his sword, but Octavia steadied his hand. "No. We won't threaten her like that. I believe I got a better threat."
She took the black mask out and rested it on the kitchen table. She then took a small meat hammer and pointed it towards the mask. The Assassins started sweating instantly and she gasped audibly.
"Don't destroy it! I'll tell you!" she croaked.
"I could tell you were fond of it," Octavia snickered. "Or do I have to make sure?" She drew the hammer up to bring it down.
"No! I...uhh...I'm under orders by the Grandbearer because of the recent events with Empress Luna. She was almost killed by a Templar squad and we don't know how they got so close to her without the Brotherhood knowing. The Grandbearer assumed that it was an inside job and so we have been spying on all suspects. The suspects being those who, ya know, hang out with the Two Sisters. You, being poor and all, was a suspect right from the beginning. I was ordered to get you to confess being a Templar, but I can tell you aren't one!"
"That's it?" Octavia mocked. "I thought it would be less "boring" than that."
The Assassin stomped her feet. "That's all there is! Empress Luna has been blinded! We are trying to find out how this happened, alright? Can you blame us?"
"We know what happened," Sentry exclaimed. "It was a gang of insane thugs! They were unskilled when they attacked the Lady of the Night. That's why they failed in killing her."
"They were Templar!" the Assassin shot back.
"Who are the Templar?" Octavia asked.
"They are the Brotherhood's enemy!" the Assassin answered dramatically. "They want Absolute Order to reign over all of us. They are a ruthless organization that kills and deceives to gain power. The Brotherhood has fought them since the beginning."
"You're mad," Sentry scoffed.
"I'm not! The Templar are here. They have been conspiring against the Two Sisters for years now. Ya gotta believe me."
"I believe you," Octavia said finally. "But why would your Brotherhood care?"
"It's our responsibility to care," she answered. "We make sure that Freedom lasts in civilization. Without us, you would all be under Templar control."
The Royal Guard shook his head. "She's mad. No organization with that much power could hide so easily. If you don't mind, m'lady, but I shall take her to Royal Palace to be furthered questioned and detained." He paused. "That means leaving you alone."
"Go ahead, Corporal," Octavia nodded. "Give her her mask back as well."
The Royal Guard took the mask and placed it on the Assassin's face. He then took her bounded arms and led her out of the house. Octavia watched them walk by with little sympathy. Though she was still curious on the fierce woman's name. She could only refer to her as "The Assassin" and that did not feel right with her. So, with one small amount of effort, she spoke to her.
"Can you give us your name now?" she asked quietly.
"Hell no!" was the answer.
What a stubborn woman...
The two left her alone in the house. The late night was still too exciting for her to return to her chambers. She wanted to ask more questions to the Assassin, but that time was now over. She was starting to see some sense in all of this mayhem, but only slightly.
Her hand reached for the wrist blade that was on the table. It's leather and steel fascinated her. What mad inventor could come up with such a weapon? She cautiously slipped her wrist through the device and tightened the straps. The Assassin had much thicker wrists than her. When she tightened it, she found that the weapon was not so simple to use. The blade refused to come out of its hiding place. Octavia started to swing her arm about, trying to activate it somehow. She soon gave up after a few desperate attempts.
"It's the craft of Tirek himself I say. How could something so devilish be invented otherwise?" she concluded.
~