Putting on a Silver Robe and Wizard Hat

by David Silver

269 - No Heroism Intended

From seemingly out of nowhere, Sheba's fingers closed around the wrist of the cat holding the dagger. Her needle-sharp claws dug into his flesh and he screamed, dropping the dagger from his ravaged wrist and bringing his other hand over to clutch feebly at the wound.

She was already gone, behind the diplomat and hooking an arm around him. "Go limp and trust me if you wish to breath in the morning air." She moved to yank him along and crashed directly into a wall of fur.

The bear had moved. She hadn't seen the the great ursine person budge, but there he was, in the way. Was he a speed user? The idea of something so massive also mastering the art of speed was mildly terrifying. He was reaching for her with all the ponderous slowness she would have expected.

She ducked away, jumping backwards only to slam with her back into another furry wall. He was there as well. She never saw him move, and yet, there he was. Was it speed? A speed so much faster than what she had seen from herself and the late Nefertari?

The diplomat hung from her left arm, being tugged about with each speedy jump. To his credit, he was being quiet and allowing her to focus on the threat. She let the claws of her free hand spring free. "Move."

"No," came his equally blunt reply to her request. "Die."

He did not strike. At least, she didn't see him strike. Suddenly she was sprawling backwards, the diplomat thrown across her form in an ungainly pile. She was back on her feet in an instant, the taste of blood in her mouth. The plan to simply withdraw was stricken from her mind with the force of the strike.

He was standing where he started. He never seemed to move quickly. Things just... happened. Is this what people who fought her felt like? She didn't like it. Retreat was tossed away, so she charged instead, throwing the diplomat aside to a place that seemed as safe as any other.

Focused on battle, she felt danger from the right and twisted just around a fist that thrust through the space she had been occupying. The bear remained still. Magic? Not speed then. She felt comforted by that, knowing she remained an apex predator of the style.

Her moment of relief was shattered as two bear paws clenched together came down on her head, knocking her into the ground with a feline screech.

"What's..." Silver had appeared in a shower of silvery light. As soon as he saw the combat already in progress, his wings shot out and he took a more defensive stance. He had time to look for the others. The other felines had withdrawn, which was turning into an outright fleeing at the sight of Silver. The turkey was already gone.

"I will trust you." He wasn't looking at Sheba, there was no time. There could be no escaping. He vanished with an unusually spastic crackle of magic.

Sheba scrambled forward with a little smirk, thinking of the sultan's words. Perhaps they needed a guard more direly than he required one himself.

"Stop," ordered the bear.

"No," she replied with a smirk, savoring the reversal of the situation. She tore into his side with sharp claws, leaving bloodied lines. Relatively dull, but still sharp enough, claws dug into her right arm as she was shoved back away from the low-growling bear. "You can bleed," she taunted. It was enough to know she could win.

"Your sister." Both combatants glanced aside at the diplomat, who was standing to the side of the midsection of the two. "She will be disappointed."

The bear's stoic expression shifted with a small dose of worry. "Why?"

"You're hurting a pretty cat." He gestured towards Sheba. "Of her favorite color at that. Very disappointed."

"I must."

"Must you?" He smiled a little. "You could take her to see your little girl. She would be so happy. You don't have to go with the others, so violent..."

Sheba quirked an ear at the exchange. "... Yeah, sure. I'd love to meet your sister."

The bear smiled just a little. "Forgive?"

Sheba couldn't believe it. Was the bear that willing to forget the fight? "Do you?"

Bear paws were on her, not punching or tearing, but hugging her. It was answer enough.

The diplomat smiled gently. "I had hoped I could convince the prince... It seems I have failed to convince most."

"One." The bear put one of his actual hands to his clawed flesh, wincing softly in obvious pain. "One."

"One will have to do. Dear friend, you are hurt. We should away to a doctor."

---

Silver was unaware of the results of the fight he had left, trusting Sheba to be the skilled warrior she seemed to be. With a fitful shower of sparkles he appeared before the one whose scent had grown dimmest.

The turkey fell over backwards with a distress cluck. "Get away!"

"You killed my wife." He took a firm step forward, silvery light crackling around each hoof as it touched the ground. "You have exactly one opportunity to explain."

"Foul she-devil, she wo--"

Silver did not feel the need to hear the rest. He jumped forward, vanishing in a fit of silver sparkles, only to appear just over the turkey and come down, landing on him with a hoof to the poor bird-person's head, driving them into the ground savagely. He felt something break. He didn't, at least for the moment, feel regret. Only the bitterest of satisfaction.

"Now..." He had not gained supernatural tracking abilities on birds. No, something magic had drawn him. Something powerful and terrible. He reached with his magic and ripped free a pulsing spiked ball from within the clothes of the dead bird. It seemed to alternate in glow between deep purple and angry red with green stripes that ran along it. "It looks just as evil as it is." It was the heart, he figured.

It was the engine at the center of the grand machine of death.

He wanted to smash it on the spot, but... He had to know. Could it be easily remade? Destroying it would remove the option of finding out. He tucked it away in a saddlebag instead, grunting.

His hoof was wet. He looked down to see he was standing in spilled blood. There were bits of his murder victim joining the mess, not to mention an entire still-cooling body. He had murdered someone, pure and simple. An earned vengeance, perhaps, but it was still murder.

With a soft sigh, he began walking through the tunnels. The others did not glow with such magic, so he would not find them as easily.

"No!"

He smiled. Or one could run into him. That worked. "You can surrender. That is more than I offered the turkey."

The cat took a shaking step back away from him. "It's... for the good of everyone. Don't you understand? The jackals--"

"--Enough. Do you surrender or not?" Silver took another step forward, bloody hoofprints marking his progression. "It will be up to the sultan what is done with you."

The cat drew a scimitar suddenly. "That's no better than killing me, Foreign Prince. My choice is only how I wish to go."

"And you choose to lose it in struggle with a pony of all things?" Silver called forth one of his shields, glowing in a soft silver hue of hexadecimal segments erected in a perfect sphere. "There are better ways to go."

The cat moved his other hand, clutching at the scimitar with both between his trembling hands. "You could let me go..."

"So you can plot more murder?" Silver took another slow step. "You were part of this. You were ready to end so many lives. Why is yours so much more important?"

"Horrible lives that would have threatened others," hissed the cat. "They deserved noth-- what are you doing?!" Magic was suffusing him, causing him to glow a bright silver.

His spellbook floated into view as he worked the magic, making sure he got it right. "A simple justice."

"What?! No! Don't kill me!"

Silver lowered his head, directing his horn at the struggling cat, held firmly in his arcane grip. Their fur became sandy in color, their sharp claws becoming less needle-like and more broad. His screeching became more of a yelp. He was allowed to fall to the ground, changed. "You may go."

"What?" he asked with an altered voice. He raised a paw to his throat, but saw the paw and had to stare at it. "What have you done?!"

"Not a single jackal choose to be one. You are just another." He gestured in the direction the former-cat had been going in. "Hopefully they will show you more kindness than you extended towards them."

"N-no! No! Turn me back!" He rushed Silver, only to collide with his spherical shield. The desperate and new jackal claws feebly at the sphere. "Please..."

"You would rather die? I'd offer the sultan's choice, but that is the same, you said."

The jackal fell back a step, whimpering. He did not have the bravery to request death over the punishment levied. "Will... I be hunted?"

"Not by me." Silver snorted softly. "Only by bigots that think a jackal is trouble. Will you prove them wrong?"

The jackal took a final swat at the sphere, but it wasn't giving. "Death or shame..." He slunk away, making his choice with a soft grumbling.

Silver advanced past where the former-cat had stood, hoping to find the others, preferably one that moved with a stance that spoke of leadership. His shield faded away, its power partially drawing back where it had come from. The tunnels were many and winding. He did not feel very good about his odds...

---

The diplomat led the way. "Do you not wish to keep an eye on your employer?"

"He is the largest threat down here currently." Sheba shrugged softly. "I do not fear for him. You, on the other hand, are not leaving my sight."

The bear walked with them, quietly holding his injuries as he went. Sheba had her own share of them, but her pride did not allow her to do much with them with the others there. The thin lines of blood were sealing, at least. She felt certain that soreness would be her biggest enemy that day.

"They have demonstrated quite well my value in their eyes. Tell me, how did you happen on us with such--" He tapped two opposing claws together. "--perfect timing."

"I was already there." She felt the answer gave nothing of value away. "You are enough like the prince that I felt he would not want to arrive as you were being cut apart."

"I thank you for your kindness." He pressed the palms of his hands together and bowed his head. "This violence is regrettable. I had hoped for simple, bloodless, solutions."

Sheba hiked a brow. "Bloodless? Have you seen what this... thing actually does to someone?" She advanced a little faster, slapping a paw down on his shoulder. "Have you?"

He was turned in her strong hands to face her. His ears lowered for only a moment before springing back. "I have not... personally witnessed it."

"Then let me inform you. Imagine drowning in your own blood, but you aren't near dead enough yet to pass out. You gurgle and struggle as your nose begins to bleed everywhere. Maybe you manage to get out some air in a frothy mix with all the blood that's filled your insides." She thrust a hand up and forward, bringing the sharp tip of a claw just under his chin. "Bloodless?"

"I... was told it operated in a different fashion." His left ear fell down and back, his long tail giving a single fitful twitch.

She threw up her hands. "What way was that? Would the jackals simply vanish? Did they tell you they'd just calmly lay down and cease breathing like they were going to sleep?"

Author's Note:

Revenge is meted out on two of the five conspirators. Two others are taken by Sheba. That leaves a cat in the caves. Where did he or she go running off to? What typos will they bring?

Comments

[redmar]

Silver gave one cat a very karmic punishment and the cat that survived will start to plot some other nefarious plan to be sure.

[Booster Spice]

Silver is putting some slap down. The conspirators should be glad he didnt use variations on sympathetic magic, to see who they have been and set a trace on them, to research and interrogate them.

About the only thing worth keeping the object accessible and in existance currently is trying to work out if its one, or of others?

[David Silver]

9334774
That is the basic idea. If it's some super crazy artifact that no one is replicating any time soon, proceed to SMASH!

[harts fire]

well crap that just happened.