Equinox: A Tale of Harmony from behind the Elements

by Battle Damage

Finding Balance: Through Dead Eyes

Three years ago

I can’t stop running. I’ll never be able to stop running. Dear Celestia, I’m such an idiot, why did I do it, why now? Oh yeah, because I’m an idiot.

I couldn’t stop scolding myself as I ran through the dark dirty streets of east-end Manehatten. I’d just managed to do something remarkably stupid, And except for my comments on my own stupidity, I had no idea why. Of course I’d done this stupid thing plenty of times before, but it hadn’t been so stupid then, because I’d been able to cover my tracks. But this time. . .

There wasn’t time to think about it too hard. Wherever I looked, it seemed like everypony else was looking straight back. My heart raced, my brain fell into a frenzy, and my thoughts all rammed into each other. I could barely understand myself, with thoughts like, OhsweetCelestiatheyknowandtheyhatemeandtheyllkillmeorIdon’tevenknow. Such was the state of my panic.

I wanted nothing more than to get away from it all, so I decided to fly away from troubles and out of Manehatten. I jumped to take off, but my right wing caught on something leathery, and my left wing refused to respond entirely, so I literally hit the road. I felt my sunglasses (prescription and what not) jostle on the bridge of my nose, and feathers from arrow shafts assault the back of my head.

“Dammit.”, I muttered to myself, “I’m still wearing the quiver. Why am I such an idiot?”

I pulled the quiver off myself and threw it as hard as I could down some alleyway. I heard something give a startled yell. Probably a bum. But that’s beside the point. I got a running start and gave another jump. My right wing opened without resistance this time, but my left was still in more pain than I’d ever felt before. So this time I rolled in mid-air before hitting the pavement face-first. My glasses cracked and shattered and as I lifted my head, the night sky became as bright as day for me. Every minute detail screamed for my attention and I couldn’t help but look at it all. So I just closed my eyes and ran blindly.

I learned very quickly that there’s a good reason nopony runs with their eyes closed. It’s not practical at all. I smashed into walls, knocked over practically every trash can in Manehatten and bumped into at least two dozen other ponies. I went on like that for about a half-hour, until I lost all sense of direction and opened my eyes just far enough to get a bearing for where I was going. I was both surprised and relieved at where I’d managed to carry myself. It was an old building, but beautiful. It was the only place I’d been to call home and mean it. The stained glass window of Princess Celestia was as glorious (and imposing) as ever. And the staircase leading to the arched doors of the building were as steep as they’d ever been. So I started walking up them, trying to figure out how I was going to explain the whole situation to the mare who’d been like my mother.

I hit the top of the stairs knocked on the foreboding doors of the Our Lady of Celestial Balance church turned orphanage. Just the action of knocking felt strenuous, and I was beginning to feel lightheaded. It occurred to me that I’d never bothered to check my left side, the side that had sent me sprawling on the concrete. So I took a glance at my wing, and saw nothing but stars, shining bright among a river of crimson. I mean you would’ve shit bricks there was so much glass in my side. I looked further behind me and saw the trail of blood I’d left in my wake, presumably starting from when I’d fallen through the the skylight at Beaux and Harrows and ending right at my hooves. Honestly, I was surprised I hadn’t bled out sooner.

All could do at that point was curse to myself. I mean, I’d literally left a trail of blood all around Manehatten that would directly connect me to the thing I was desperately trying to avoid. You try not getting pissed at something like that. I would’ve beat myself up about it more but somepony had finally opened the door. Just the somepony I’d been hoping for actually.

“Good evening, my child,” Mother Salve said to me in a voice heavy with the weight of sleep, “and may our Princess Celestia bless you with her glory. Now may I ask what brings you here so late?”

I had no idea where to begin, so I did what every normal pony would do in my situation: I spat out the first thing that came to mind.

“I killed her Mother Salve!”, I shout-whispered. “She’s dead and I killed her. I know it was wrong and I didn’t mean to do it, but I just couldn’t control myself. And I just don’t know what to do now. I mean I-”

I continued to ramble on like that for some five minutes or so, detailing every idiotic action I’d taken that night. The look on her face went from concerned to questioning to horrified as I went on, with many other expressions in between. I was vomiting out my tale with the speed and aggressiveness of a bout of explosive diarrhea, and Mother Salve could be likened to someone witnessing such a bout.

I stopped my yammering to take a breath and Mother put a hoof to my mouth to silence me. “Deadeye. . .”, she spoke to me with the motherly softness I knew so well, “I’d had such hopes for you. But now here you stand,at the crossroads of balance, like so many of the others.”

“I’m surprised you remember me, Mother.”, I replied. And I was. I hadn’t seen the mare in a good eight years. And I couldn’t recall having mentioned who I was in my rambling. What confused me more though was her mentioning of “crossroads” and “others.” I couldn’t fathom what she’d meant by it.

“I remember all my children, Deadeye,” Mother Salve said, “in the event that any of them should return to me. Now please, come in so I can dress those wounds for you. You aren’t looking ver-”

I couldn’t make out tha last of what mother said. My hearing became muffled and my vision dimmed, at least as far is it’s capable of doing so. The lightheadedness ascended into dizziness. The world spun and my hooves disappeared from beneath. Then, true darkness.
______________________________________________________________________________

I woke up. My torso and wing were completely wrapped-up and a sizeable bowl of blood situated on the dresser next to the bed I’d been put in. I’d been carried to my old bedroom, a familiar and friendly scape with holes of varying size in the ceiling and walls from when I was practicing archery as a colt. There were lit candles all around the room, one of which was on the same dresser as the bowl of bloody glass. I hadn’t noticed her immediately but Mother Salve was sitting at the head of the bed, writing something or other on a piece and, presumably, waiting for me to wake up. In the soft light of the candle, which was almost blinding to me, I noticed how old Mother had become in my absence. I had known a younger, more spry Salve. But this Mother was worn and tired, as if there was some heavy weight on her back. There was a streak of white in her once all brown mane, and I could see the beginnings of stress wrinkles forming on her face. This Mother was old beyond her years.

“Mother?”, I said weakly. She looked up at me from her parchment, almost surprised at my voice.

“Oh, good,” she said to me,”you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for about an hour now. I was afraid you’d passed on for a moment. Though compared with the choices you’re about to be presented, perhaps death would’ve been preferable. But that’s not my decision to make.”

“Mother. . .what are. . .are you t-talking about?”, I asked with the strain showing in my voice. She ignored my question and just went on talking.

“Somepony will be here shortly to talk with you about everything you’ve done. And I mean everything, Deadeye.”

Oh dear sweet Celestia, she knew about the others. But how was that even possible? And was that disappointment I’d heard in her voice? I didn’t have time to figure it out as somepony had begun to knock at the bedroom door. Mother went to answer it. Standing in the hallway was a relatively short, stocky pegasus stallion. His mane and tail were a bright scarlet and his hair was light gray; his eyes were a piercing yellow and his wings were unusually small, but thick, seeming to shine in the candlelight. He was wearing an old, worn black fedora and had a rectangular pack strapped to his right foreleg, probably for holding cards of some sort. He didn’t look any older than I was, which was about eighteen.

“Thank you, Mother. You can go back to sleep now.” the stallion said. His voice was smooth and friendly. He sounded as though he wouldn’t have been out of place as some royal dignitary or muckraking politician. Of course just about every pony in Manehatten met that qualification.

“Your welcome, Joker,” Mother replied. “And please, do go easy on him.” As she walked away, I heard her mutter something about wasted talent. Joker, as his name apparently was, sauntered slowly over to my bed. As he walked to the head of it, I caught a glimpse of his cutie mark: an ace of spades, overlaid by a joker of hearts, bearing the visage of the mythical Princess Luna. From before she had supposedly become Nightmare Moon, that is.

He sat down at the head of the bed and stared at me. I stared right back. We both just sat there in loaded silence, each waiting for the other to speak. It ended up being Joker who was the first to do so.

“I know the game you’re playing, kid.” Joker began. “Believe me, I can play it all night. But I’m here for a reason, and a damn good one too.”

“Are you some kind of cop?” I replied. “P.I., Royal Guard, any of those?”

“Well, yes. But not exactly. Before I can answer any more of our questions, you're gonna have to answer some of mine. Sound good to you?”

“. . . . . . . . . . .”

I’ll take your silence as a go-ahead then. First off, your name is Deadeye Sureshot, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Your current residence is the apartment above nine two two, Forseti avenue, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what is below this apartment?”

“An archery range,” I said through clenched teeth.

“And this archery range is owned by?”

“Listen, guy,” I shouted at him. “Could you stop beating around the bush and get to whatever stupid point it is you’re trying to make!?”

He smiled at me, as if I’d told some half-funny joke. “A stallion who gets straight to it. I like that. Frankly, I don’t much care for theatrics either, but regulations, you know?”

“No, I don’t. And regulations of what exactly?”

“My job, kid, my job. You know, the rules my boss sets, things I have to follow so I don’t get fired?”

“What job would that be exactly?”

“I’m obligated not to tell you until I’ve given you the whole sales pitch on why you need to join us.”

“Join who? You’re making no sense!”

“Then allow me to start making sense. For starters, my name’s Joker Vocalism. I’m a professional gambler, part time bartender and singer, fulltime assassin, and generally, a pleasant pony to be around.”

“Assassin?”, I questioned disbelievingly. He definitely wasn’t lying. And with sight like mine you tend to pick up on things like that.

“I’ll get to it,” he said. “Anyhow, I work for this organization called Equinox, a network of infiltrators, information gatherers, triple agents and the like. There’s quite a bit more to our story, but to summarize, we’re what’s been keeping Equestria from floating down the shitter the past millenium.”

“And how’s that exactly?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the tale of the Elements of Harmony, right?”

“I don’t see what some little pony’s tale has to do with what you’re telling me.”

“It has everything to do with it, Deadeye. After Princess Luna, or rather, Nightmare Moon was banished to the moon, the connection between the Elements of Harmony and their bearers was severed, leaving Equestria without one of it’s main sources of protection. Equinox was founded by somepony who didn’t want to see Equestria fall because of that.”

“Of course it was,” I said. “But if you guys have been protecting Equestria for so long, what happened to the Crystal Empire?” I didn’t expect him to answer, seeing as how the Crystal Empire was just another bedtime story.

“Before our time,” he answered matter-of-factly. Of course it was.

“So,” I went on. “What exactly does Equinox want with me?”

“You’re a remarkably gifted markspony, Deadeye, and your track covering skills are almost perfect. Unfortunately for you, we at Equinox know what to look for when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“What exactly did you and your assassin friends find while looking?” , I said sarcastically. I was trying my hardest not to sound as scared as I really was.

“We found everything, Deadeye. And I do mean everything.”

“That seems to be a popular phrase around here.” Joker chuckled.

“That it is. Nonetheless, one hundred and twenty ponies, all killed in the past five years. Killed by you, Deadeye. Impressive, really it is.”

I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach. If he’d been serious about knowing everything, maybe he’d been serious about this whole Equinox thing. . . but then again, he could just be making a shot in the dark.

“Of course,” he went on. “that’s not to say you didn’t do any good with the ponies you killed. Let’s take, for example, one “Brooklyn.” Lanky earth pony, greasy black mane, often smelled of dead fish. Does that ring any bells?”

Too bad for me, it did. Black Mold, better known on the streets as “Brooklyn”, had been a professional con. Made a living selling national landmarks to the old and senile. But when you’ve sold the Statue of Harmony to every senior citizen in Manehatten, word gets around. Unfortunately for him, word got to me. The look on his face as my arrow pierced his throat is forever burned into my memory.

“You did Equestria a service that day. A small one, but still a service. If I recall correctly, that was your first kill, was it not?”

“I. . . I don’t remember.” It had been. This guy knew everything after all.

“Well regardless, after you killed “Brooklyn”, you didn’t let up. The statistic for murder skyrocketed, but all other crime rates dropped. You took care of practically every lowlife, scumbag, and vagrant in the city. But for whatever reason it occurs, murder is murder. And we can’t have a murderer mucking about, hoofloose and fancy-free.”

“So what did you decide to do about it?”, I said, my nervousness and my curiosity fighting for supremacy.

“Considering you hadn’t killed anypony we wouldn’t have gotten to ourselves eventually, we figured we’d make you one of us. Things got a little tricky after you ganked poor, old Mr. Harrow though. After all, he was an innocent stallion.”

I wasn’t able to tolerate that statement. Harrow Shaft had been many things. For some time I’d seen him as a father. But I learned very quickly that he would never be able to see me as his son. And I have to admit, when I watched him die, choking on and flailing in his own vomit, I was more than satisfied. It made me happy like only the act of watching something you hate shrivel can.

“It’s not like he didn’t have it coming.”, I thought out loud. I could feel my veins begin throbbing where I’d injured myself. My anger was starting to get the better of me.

“What was that, Sureshot?”, Joker questioned. Sweet Celestia, do I hate when ponies call me by my surname.

‘I said,” I spoke, my voice cracking with suppressed emotion. “that it’s not like he didn’t have it coming. He was a drunkard, a wife and child beater, so obsessed with the loss of his own son, he couldn’t bother to pay attention to the colt so ready to devote himself to him. . . he definitely had it coming.”

“Wow.” Joker said in mock astonishment. “It’s like the half-baked plot to some dimestore crime novel. I mean seriously kid, if I had a bit for every time I’ve heard this story, I’d take it all to Las Pegasus, rake it in, and retire early. But still, I have to admit, alcohol poisoning was a good way to go. Plausible cause of death, well hidden puncture wounds from the syringe you used to inject into his body. Overall well thought out and well-executed. Which brings me back t the whole ‘making you one of us thing.’

“Originally,” Joker went on, “our plan was to frame you for a crime that followed your kill pattern and leave you with only the choices of dying or joining us. But you seem to have managed to place yourself between a rock and a hard place quite snugly already. And now you stand at a cross-roads. One road leads to a life of fear, paranoia, and, ultimately, death at the hands of one of your prospective co-workers. The other. . . well I think you can infer where the other one leads.”

“I’m not entirely convinced. I mean, what makes you so sure I’m cut out for this line of work?”

“You have all the makings of a silencer: somepony who can get the job done without any pony knowing there was a job in the first place. If you really need convincing though, take a look at your flank. Mother informed me that this whole ordeal has left you with a little gift that might just help you come around.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by gift. A scar maybe? It certainly couldn’t be a cutie mark, because most ponies at my age who hadn’t discovered their talent, usually never discovered it. But I figured I may as well humor him. So I shifted in the bed and craned my neck to look at my-

“Princess be praised, I have a cutie mark.”

It was a hawk, flying through a pair of crosshairs, similar to something from one of my bow sights. But what did it mean? When had it appeared?

“I can tell you’re confused, Sureshot. So let me explain.”

“Yeah, because you’ve been doing a real bang up job there.”

“Don’t get smart, sureshot. Now, you told Mother Salve that when you killed Beaux Quiver, you hadn’t been able to control yourself. That is what you said isn’t it?”

“It is, but-”

“How long had it been since your previous kill?”

“Three months, but-”

“And before that what was the longest you’d managed to go without a kill?”

“Five weeks! But what does that have to do with-”

“It has everything to do with your cutie mark, Deadeye. When you failed to control your murderous impulses, you subconsciously acknowledged that it was your purpose in life. Your cutie mark is a testament to your skills as a sniper, a pony who specializes in death from afar, so to speak. Are you still unconvinced? Will you still refuse to become one of us?”

He almost seemed to pleading with me at this point. But I was still unmoved in my opinion.

“No, I’m not convinced,” I replied stoically. “ and yes, I will refuse. Anything you and your little group could do, I’m sure I can do myself. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe we’re done here.”

I got off the bed and started to walk away, but Joker put a hoof to my chest. I was still too weak from blood-loss to fight back, so I just stared him down. His expression had hardened and all his prior lightheartedness seemed to have disappeared.

“Perhaps I mislead you,” he began in a tone filled with what I can only describe as ‘dark’. “with my crossroads analogy earlier. That first road that you're starting to walk down won’t lead to fear or paranoia. If you refuse to join Equinox, I’ve been given orders to kill you right here, right now.”

My fear came rushing back in waves. I almost crapped myself, that statement scared me so much. But I tried to act tough.

“I doubt you have the conviction to kill me in a church.”, I said.

“Try me.”, he replied.

“We-well. . .uhhh. . .I don’t see a weapon on you. How exactly do you plan on killing me without a weapon?”

He chuckled again. “In your state, it wouldn’t take much to kill you. But why don’t you let your eyes decide whether or not I have a weapon.”

Joker spread his wings and It became apparent why they had seemed so thick. They hadn’t been small, just curled up. Each wing was at least four feet in length and framed in what appeared to be some sort of steel plating.

“Those are wing blades, Deadeye. Sharp enough to mow through any part of your body with little to no resistance. Now, you’re talented Deadeye, I think we’ve established that. I don’t like to waste talent. So I’m going to give one last chance. Will you become one of us? Or am I going to end you?”

I mulled it over in my mind, and I couldn’t find any reason not to accept. Of course nearly anything seems preferable when the only other option is immediate death. But joining this organization, this so-called Equinox, seemed like it was nothing but beneficial to me.

“Well,” I began. “it doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. But I’m in. Equinox has earned a new member.”

Joker smiled and furled his wings until they once again resembled shiny folded carpets.

“I’m glad you came around.”, he said, taking his hoof from my chest and placing it around my shoulders. “Now, come on. There are some ponies in the cellar I’d like you to meet.”

“That sounds awful shady.”

“Yes,” Joker replied. “Yes it does.”