Cards of Legacy

by SwordTune

A Whole Old World

"Wrong, fix your hoof work."

"That's not fixing, space your hooves out."

"No, that's too far apart, you look ridiculous. Get down, you're done for today."

Twilight hopped down from the brick wall she was supposed to balance on and glided over to her master. He was a heavily scarred earth pony, a living testament to how hard it was to live another day when working as a monster hunter.

If training was over, that could only mean studying was on the schedule for the rest of the day, and it wasn't even noon. Twilight loved to study on her own, and show her masters what she could do, but they were strict about professional training, an even stricter on professional education.

"Do I have to go to that old fart's lessons?" she pleaded.

Her master gave her a stern look. "No pony teaches better than Master Stonewood. And his fighting skills..."

"Can only be matched by a select few monster hunters," Twilight finished, rolling her eyes at the phrase she got tired of two years ago. "But I already know everything about killing Otherlings."

"That's not today's lessons Twilight," he replied. "It's history lessons this time."

Twilight moaned. "But Master Guerrier-"

"I don't want to hear it," warned Guerrier. "Go, before I make you run the Red Wall again."

Twilight sighed, but ran off for Master Stonewood's tower anyways. She had mastered the Red Wall before she reached adolescence, but that didn't mean she wanted to dodge its spikes and sandbags all over again.

The castle of the monster hunters was in disrepair, but not a lot of the remaining hunters wanted to repair any of its walls. Those who did rarely got anything done, leaving a mix of scaffolding and crumbling stone bricks to climb on. Twilight didn't mind, she liked the climbing practice.

Guerrier always teased her for using her wings to glide off the walls, saying that a normal pony would learn to climb down the walls, but she always made her point by winning any climbing race, up or down the walls. She wished she could just fly up and down and make climbing obsolete, but her wings wouldn't allow it. Flight, in accordance to basic logic, made her a likely target in combat.

Mutants were common enough among monster hunters, some with horns and other with wings, but only horns were considered useful tools for hunting. According to Stonewood's lessons, the first monster hunters with wings would fly into towns as heroes and saviors, only to be shot down by frightened local archers because the common ponies couldn't tell them apart from winged monsters.

So, as wasteful as it seemed, it became a tradition to cripple the wings of mutants so that they would never accomplish true flight. Gliding and other simple controls were still easily done, and Twilight was thankful for their ability to hold what hooves could not, but some tendons and muscles were cut and removed so that no amount of flapping would make a mutant take to the sky.

At least mutants never had to drink the potion that made all monster hunters infertile. To keep monster hunters from finding new lives and spreading their trade secrets beyond the castles of the monster hunters, those who survived the final trials had to drink a Potion of Infertility, forever making them hunters. Mutants, being naturally infertile, got to skip that horrid tasting concoction. Better still for all the male mutants, for every stallion who had drank the potion claimed they could not walk properly for a week afterwards.

Twilight was forced to pull out of her thoughts. Stonewood's library tower, the home of everything a monster hunter needed to learn, had more than enough loose stones for Twilight's hooves to grapple to and climb, but it was a long way up. Still, she loved to enter through the window and spook the other trainees, so she always opted not to take the stairs.

"Ah, here she is," Stonewood announced as Twilight pulled herself up into Stonewood's teaching room. "The great winged unicorn Twilight has decided to grace us with her presence."

She knew she was not going to have a good time. "Hey there, Master Stonewood. I was just on the wall showing Master Guerrier how my practice has been paying off."

"Yes, and then he sent you here for your hoof work, didn't he?" Stonewood was the oldest living monster hunter, and had seen every trick and lie the trainees could think of. Some of them he thought of himself as a colt, but most of them were from his experience as a master. He knew what his students meant, even if they tried to withhold information from him.

"Yes," Twilight grumbled. Lander and Highsight, the two other trainees at Twilight's age, snickered at her. They both were constantly bested by Twilight, whether it was magic, combat, knowledge, or drinking, and they were fond of all their challenges, but it still warmed their hearts to see her in a bad spot from time to time.

Stonewood nodded, expecting her answer, and then shot her a history question. "Since you claim to be a lover of books, perhaps you could tell me the teachings of the monster hunting philosophies?"

"Which one?" Twilight asked for clarification.

"All of them."

She gulped, but knew in her gut that she had each philosophy memorized. "The Dragon Arts teaches hunting and combat with heavy armor and heavier strikes. It's the oldest teaching, with hunter records dating just ten years after the first pony kingdom was established."

"And what is its preferred equipment?" Stonewood pressed further.

"Cleavers and explosives," Twilight recited. She continued without having to be asked. "The Murder of Crows teaches patient hunting. Those who master it often hunt one monster at time for days, using poisons and traps to weaken the beast while remaining hidden and unharmed until the final blow. For the kill, the preferred weapon is the throwing knife or the crossbow."

Stonewood raised a brow, and Twilight immediately added another fact. "The philosophy famously rivaled the Parliament of Owls, a philosophy that died three hundred years ago with the fall of the Orendrean Empire."

"Good, continue."

"The Hydra Philosophy," Twilight went on, "while the youngest philosophy, it is currently the most taught philosophy of monster hunting. It focuses on endurance, training hunters to outlast enemies. For this reason, many students of this philosophy do not hunt fast healing monsters such as Corpse Eaters and High Fiends. Their preferred weapon is technically the sword, though only because it pairs well with a shield. Aside from that, the philosophy also requires an absolute mastery of potion brewing."

"Very good," applauded Stonewood, "Lander here forgot about the Hydra Philosophy entirely when I asked him."

Lander tried to defend himself, but couldn't find any excuse. In defeat, Highsight laughed at him.

"Then there's the Discipline of Mutants," Twilight said, with a heavy breath. She hadn't realized she was holding it until then. "Commonly known by outside ponies as 'The Freak Army,' the philosophy studies arcane knowledge almost exclusively, and is also made almost exclusively of mutant ponies capable of magical feats."

Twilight didn't realize she did it, but she had looked up at her own horn and ruffled her wings when she said "mutant ponies." While monster hunters were welcoming of all kinds of folk, that didn't stop any of the trainees from shying away from the pony with too many parts.

Stonewood decided that was good enough. "I don't think you need to tell us about the School of the Cynogriffon, Twilight." It was their philosophy, and under it they trained relentlessly in all sections of combat. There wasn't any one thing particular about the School of the Cynogriffon, but Twilight didn't want to leave it unfinished.

"It's alright, there's not much to say about the School of the Cynogriffon," insisted Twilight. "It was founded by the remaining members of the Parliament of Owls, and teaches monsters hunters to be skilled in all areas of hunting. The preferred weapon is the sword, for its simplicity and versatility, along with basic spells and explosives. Adaptability is the most important aspect of the School of the Cynogriffon."

"And that's why you two brick heads need to start your studies earlier each day," Stonewood told the other two. "A dumb hunter's a dead hunter, no matter how many years he or she spends training."

He grabbed a thick encyclopedia of the histories of monster hunters, and flipped to the chapter detailing the thirty most revolutionary developments in monster hunting techniques. "Get comfortable with your peers Twilight, you'll enjoy this lesson, I'm sure." And he began to read.

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Guerrier drilled all the trainees even harder as their final trials began. All the trainees were reaching adulthood, which meant they'd either be initiated as true monster hunters, or die trying.

"You're leading your strikes with your footwork Lander," the master warned. "She'll see you attack before you even start."

Lander picked up his pace to prove Guerrier wrong, adding a series of spins and flips to confuse Highsight, but the moment he planted his hooves for a cut on her left, she parried him and knocked him on his ass.

Twilight laughed. "Maybe you should wait another year or two before doing the trials Lander. Burying you means we'll have to drag your corpse out of whatever cave you land yourself in."

"Why don't you get down here and fight?" Lander challenged.

"You really want to your butt kicked again?" Twilight leaped from her seat and stepped onto the sparring grounds. "Alright, but this time I won't-"

"Twilight, I need you for a moment," Guerrier interrupted. He knew how much Twilight enjoyed training, so she assumed he wouldn't have stopped her if it wasn't important.

"We'll do this later," she told Lander, leaving him to spar with Highsight again.

At the armory, Master Guerrier waited with a letter on the table. He looked at Twilight, then at the letter. Without a word, he slid the vellum in her direction. She picked it up with a wing and rad over it, though she already knew what it wanted by the first sentence.

The masters of Bach Kha'mohrgen, teachers of the Discipline of Mutants, request that you travel immediately to begin further training in your natural abilities.

Bach Kha'mohrgen, an ancient ruin settled by some of the earliest ponies, had become the stronghold that trained every monster hunter under the Discipline of Mutants. It was clear that Guerrier and the other monster hunters wanted Twilight to train there.

"Bach Kha'mohrgen's on the Far Coast," Twilight said. "It'll be a week's worth of galloping before we even reached the borders of their land."

Guerrier nodded. "A small king on the Far Coast asked the Mutants to eradicate the monsters in his forests, but the hunters that went in never made it into the heart of the forest. They've called on help from all the castles, so I'll be taking you with me to Bach Kha. After that, you'll have new masters to teach you."

"And what if I don't want to?" Twilight asked. "I'm ready for the trials, I don't need to learn more magic to become a monster hunter."

"These are not tavern tricks!" Guerrier snapped. "Compared to what they can teach you, we make sparks and sooth animals. It'll only be for a year, and after that you'll be better trained than any monster hunter to date. You'll come back to Bach Tor'al and take the trials then."

Twilight was furious, but if Guerrier wasn't going to accept "no" for an answer, she wasn't going to bother giving one. She took her sword and the letter and galloped out of the castle. Out in the forest, there was one spot where she could calm her emotions no matter what. A little creek ran through the clearing, carrying fresh water from the waterfall many miles away, stemming from a lake behind the castle.

She reached the clearing in an hour, and then simply dropped onto the soft grass beside the creek. Stonewood and Guerrier said they were hunting a wyvern the day they found her by the creek, curled up and beaten like a dying animal. Despite clearly having not eaten for days, she repeated a single word all the way back to Bach Tor'al, not stopping until they fed her a thin tomato soup.

"Twilight," she whispered to herself. From that day on it was her name, as well as a mantra. She didn't know what it meant or why she was saying it, but it calmed her down nonetheless. She considered what might happen if she did the trials and became a monster hunter without travelling to learn from the Discipline of Mutants. She was as good a fighter as any of the hunters, save for Guerrier and maybe Stonewood. She knew how to write glyphs and wards against specters, and cast charms on monsters to trick them. And no pony was better than her when climbing. She could easily become a monster hunter and leave the castles behind.

But no pony would allow it. Most of the other monster hunters never stayed long enough in the castle to really know Twilight, always coming and going from one job to another, and so most of them just regarded her as the mutant child Guerrier took pity on. Any chance to get her horn and wings out of their sight and would be well received, and even if she struck off on her own, the others wouldn't respect her as a student of the Cynogriffon. Mutants belonged with their own kind, or so many ponies have said behind her back.

Of course, Master Guerrier would just say it was for her own good. Learning to cast powerful spells probably made him feel better, knowing she was less likely to die to a lucky Mournwraith or Timberwolf. But as much as she appreciated his tutelage, she was done being treated as an apprentice.

"The same place again. How can you be so bad at hiding?" Twilight whirled around at Lander's voice, leaping off the grass into a fighting stance, only to slip on a wet stone and trip into the creek. Highsight and Lander both laughed. She expected Guerrier to follow her and drag her back to the castle, but not her friends. Well, associates now, since she could never stand be friends with the only two ponies who saw her screw up a simple stance.

"What do you two want?" she said, pulling herself out of the water.

"Other than to see your perfection tarnished? -ow!" Lander clutched his rib cage as Highsight drove her elbow into his lungs.

"Saw you running," Highsight explained, "we just wanted to know why."

Twilight didn't need to say it, she just showed them the letter so they could read it for themselves. They were both speechless, expected from Highsight but a pleasant surprise from Lander.

"Thinking of running away then?" Highsight asked.

Twilight nodded. "Once I complete the trials and become a monster hunter, I can do what I want."

"You know Guerrier's not going to allow that," Lander reminded her, "and the others..."

"I don't care what they think, I'm not an ordinary mutant they can snicker at," Twilight growled. "If I'm to look different, the least I can do is act the same. I'll not grovel under the rules the monster hunters set for me."

Lander and Highsight stood in silence. For a time, they all thought of something to say while the creek's water splashed along the rocks and frogs hopped about in the grass.

"No monster hunter's ever trained under two philosophies," Highsight finally said.

Twilight couldn't believe Highsight was proposing that she take the offer, but Lander was utterly furious. "You can't expect her to put off becoming a hunter just because some wizard in a tower wants to teach her how to piss acid and shit gold, or whatever it is that they do."

Lander, while entirely serious, got Twilight to laugh. He always acted outrageous when he lost his temper, and often it was for the better.

Highsight rolled her eyes at Lander and then spoke directly to Twilight. "Think about it; you're already as good as any of the monster hunters from this castle. They might one day come to acknowledge you, maybe respect you, but you'll never stand out no matter how many battles you win."

Twilight wasn't so sure about the last part. "What do you mean?"

"You can't be like them, no pony will let you blend in no matter what you do. Think of it like this: what's the difference between a Corpse Eater and a Grave Maker?"

"Everything." It was a strange question, and she hesitated to answer, but Twilight trusted Highsight had a point behind it.

"Exactly!" Highsight smiled excitedly, expecting Twilight to share the same revelation. "Come on Twilight, how can Grave Makers lead packs of Corpse Eaters when they are nothing like the pack? They might look different, but..."

Twilight waited for the answer before realizing Highsight wanted her to answer it for herself. "... they're far deadlier than the pack they lead."

"Corpse Eaters do the cornering, but Grave Makers are responsible for the tracking, hunting, and killing," Highsight continued with her comparison. "If you really want to be some pony special, you have to be like a Grave Maker pack leader. You have to be stronger than the rest of the monster hunters."

"Maybe she doesn't want to be that kind of monster hunter," Lander said, still trying to keep Twilight away from Bach Kha'mohrgen.

Twilight shook her head. "It's alright Lander. I don't really want to spend another year training, but it's time I stopped trying to impress the masters and do something worth recognizing."

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"Two bodies, recently deceased. One male, one female." Twilight looked around the lighthouse, recognizing the facial structures in the paintings on the walls. "The wife and husband."

The peasant farmers inland said a family lived and operated the lighthouse, before it went dark three nights ago. One mare said she once had tea with the mother, shortly after she had birthed two healthy twins, both colts. So, that left the two boys to be found.

"With any luck, they would have escaped whatever's on this coast, maybe I they could give some clues as to what I'm dealing with." Twilight sniffed around. Training with the mutant masters taught Twilight more than just simple spells. Her magic naturally flowed in her body, heightening her senses beyond the training of any other monster hunter.

"Spilled wine on the floor," Twilight noted. "There was a struggle when it happened." She went over to the husband's body to inspect the wounds. No claw marks on his bones, which eliminated the possibility of a thirsty vampire or hungry timberwolf. She felt the air for magic. There was some, probably from the monster lingering in the area, but not enough for a witches curse.

Still, some magic meant it couldn't be the corporeal sort of monster. It saddened Twilight, she hadn't fought a solid beast ever since killing a desperate ichneumon that was terrorizing a lord's farmland. It had been two months since that fight, a nice and easy one compared of the imps, demons, and djinn that troubled the nobility.

She looked over the husband's body a bit more. She found the source of the blood, a gash between two ribs that neatly punctured his right lung. Few monsters used any sort of weapon, and Twilight highly doubted a sentient beast like a succubus or a High Fiend was around a peasant port like this one.

She examined the wife's body. She was bruised, badly, on her face, stomach, and limbs. Oddly enough there wasn't a scratch on her coat or skin, despite clearly being in a fight. However, she was still unlucky enough to die of from the severe internal hemorrhaging. Domestic violence? Is this really what my work has come to?

Twilight felt disrespectful to dismiss it, the wife probably suffered a while before her death, but found a reasonable excuse in her tiredness. She went up to the stairs to light the lighthouse. A fight between the parents probably drove away the sons, and relighting the fire would at least bring them back. She'd leave it to the townsfolk to decide what to do then.

Twilight stopped short at the top of stairs and stared at the two small bodies laying on the floor. She sighed again at the sad sight. "Of course they're dead." She barely had to look at them to tell the cause of death. They reeked of a poisonous brew made from snakeroot and oleander flowers, both common plants around the village.

Judging by the mess, one colt died vomiting, a signature effect of the snakeroot. Domestic violence was something pretty common in the small villages and farms, but if there was one thing that ponies of the Far Coast valued, it was children. The murder of a child was the worst crime in the land, no matter what king set the rules.

Something wasn't right, that much Twilight knew, but she need to find more clues to get a glimpse of what happened. She searched around the cluttered mess of papers and books until she finally found something personal. The diary of the mother, with entries right up to the day she died.

I don't know what my husband saw or heard when he visited his family up north, but he hasn't been the same since he returned. He talks about weird religions, old tribal faiths once commonly practiced on these coasts. He asked me after dinner if I knew anything about them. As if I'm some kind preacher? I wouldn't know a thing! Oh, this is all very strange. I'll try to feed him some blackberries from the garden, maybe it's just sickness from travel.

Today I saw White Oak out in the gardens, pulling out weeds and scaring off the moles and rabbits that always try to eat at my crops. I don't know if his sickness is over, or if the mention of blackberries really brought him back, but he seems fine now. Hasn't mentioned any old faith to me today, not once. And what's better, he finally killed that fat rabbit who had been eating all my strawberries ever since they began to ripen.

Nothing's right. I heard him talking to the mirror this morning, talking about our sons as... I have to confront him about this, but not in front of my boys. Panicking them won't do any good. They have to clean the lighthouse equipment today, so I'll send them up before dinner and talk to White Oak then. Now, I just have to find where he stored those flowers. I can't let him poison my sons just for some kind of barbaric blood ritual!

"That explains the family's death." Twilight looked around the lighthouse top one more time, and then headed back down. She had to say it all out loud, if only to make it seem less like a nightmare and more like reality. "A father comes home with a sacrificial ritual to perform, a poison sacrifice, and he chose his own children. The mother found out and probably fought the father around dinner time, but by then the day had passed and the twins had already been poisoned by the father without them or the mother realizing it. It must have been a smaller dose, since they didn't die immediately."

Twilight felt like something had to be missing from the picture. It was too simple, and too bloody, to be accepted so easily. She just walked in on a ritualistic murder, something that probably had been planned long before, and all that was left to do was sit and speculate about the dead. But, that was how the job went, no telling what you could come across.

As she left, a chill washed over her spine from the lighthouse. Her sword was drawn immediately, and she whirled around to face the source. It was a mournwraith for sure, clearly resembling the corpse of the mother. Mournwraiths didn't show themselves until the time of their deaths, and only remained for no more than an hour. If Twilight wanted to uncurse the lighthouse, she needed to drive off the mournwraith first.

Her first reaction was to reach for her saddlebag, producing a large pot of caltrops made of night silver. Once the pot cracked open on the floor, the barbed metal flared against the mournwraith's natural magic, denying it power and, more importantly, making it corporeal. Twilight dashed forward and placed several cuts into the wraith before dodging out of its way.

The mournwraith was quick though, and charged at Twilight with a knife firmly clutched in its teeth. She ducked, rolling past it and over to the other side of the kitchen. She fired off two bolts of lighting from her horn to stun the wraith and struck again with a whirling blow. With the caltrops scattered too thin, the mournwraith manage to dissipate into a cloud and find its way around Twilight's defenses. A second too late and she would have been hit, but she managed to put a defensive field around her and deflected the strikes from the mournwraith.

Twilight pushed it back into a wall, burning wards and glyphs of forbidence into the wooden floor to temporarily trap the mournwraith in an inescapable bubble. Stuck and outmatched, the mournwraith took its leave and departed the lighthouse in a magic cloud, sending another chill through the building and extinguishing the symbols on the floor.

"Time to get the townsfolk," Twilight said to herself.

She took a boat downriver and reached the town that hired her just after sundown. The fishing ponies and mayor all awaited her return at the dock, with a bag of gold ready as pay. Twilight took the payment, but not before informing the locals on how to permanently drive off the mournwraith.

"It's wasn't an ancient curse as some of you suspected," she told them, "but rather a very, very unfortunate falling out between the husband and wife that managed the lighthouse. Husband came home a follower of some ancient religion and used poison to sacrifice his own sons. The mother found and confronted the husband, which probably lead to a fight that killed them both."

"Truly sad, but Master Hunter, what's this got to do with the ghost?" The town's mayor looked concerned, but unlike the rest of the folk, Twilight could see in his eyes the woes of a business pony, calculating the costs to hire some pony else to work at a haunted lighthouse.

Typical leader, Twilight concluded. "Mournwraiths are created by ponies who die before being able to mourn for the loss of a loved one. Perform whatever rites you observe on the bodies of the two colts and their mother -together, that's the important bit- then desecrate the husband's body in whatever way necessary. That'll drive the it away."

"White Oak doesn't deserve that!" cried one fishing pony. He was a large stallion, probably twice the strength of any other stallion in town, and already a lot of the others were rallying behind him. "I'll not believe what some outcast mutant has to say about him. And even if it were true, to desecrate a body is a sin in the eyes of the gods!"

"There has to be another way," the mayor pleaded with Twilight, his reputation hanging on the line. Twilight knew neither stallions would do the right thing if they had a choice. Luckily, she wasn't giving them one.

"If you think you can appease the mother's spirit, don't bother," she said. "Mournwraiths aren't the souls of the dead themselves, despite their appearances. They're simply attracted to the dying emotions of those who suffer from grief. Giving the mother and sons their proper rites might be enough to spoil the mournwraith's interest, but taking revenge for what the husband did is the surest way."

"Aye," the mayor nodded. "Best to trust a professional."

The large stallion gaped at the mayor, but it was clear he valued a cleaned lighthouse over the opinions of the local fishing ponies. "Put your superstitions aside for once, boy," he scowled at the stallion. "Wraiths don't care about what's right or what wrong. This has to be done."

He thanked Twilight once again and gave her the gold, also offering a deal at the town's inn for all the hassle, but as tempting as a cool cider sounded, Twilight had other jobs to do.

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Like the monsters contracted to die, no monster was the same, and no experience hunting either.

"Why should I trust ye?" the farmer asked when Twilight rode into town. She was hired by a noble pony, a stallion of wealth comparable to a king, just without the royal blood, and she was to bring him the head of a monster who threatened the noble's holdings.

"The stallion who owns your lands sent me," Twilight said. "Monster's hiding among you folk."

"I might 'ave my debts, but that don't mean a mutant like you-"

A powerful voice interrupted the farmer. "Father!" His daughter came barging out of their cottage. "She's a monster hunter, clear as day. Look at that sword, shinin' like silver it is."

"She's a mutant Winter Holly, we can't trust her." The farmer turned back to look at Twilight with scorn. "Probably as bad as the thing killin' our folk and eatin' our stock."

Twilight shrugged. "They say monster hunters steal young ones to indoctrinate. You want to be right, or do you want your problem fixed?"

The two leaned to whisper, but it was clear when the father quickly left it was for a command from the daughter rather than a conversation.

"So sorry about him," the daughter said, "What is it you lookin' for?"

"A mare, barely older than you in fact, with a red mane. Possibly speaks with a Northern Far Coast or Woodland Bog accent. Know her?"

The daughter had a look of recognition that told Twilight before she even opened her mouth to speak. Nevertheless, it was useful to hear what folk had to say, it often gave useful hints about the monster's quirks. "I know we've complained about the monster killing folk, but killin' one of our own will only cause more trouble for the landlord's pockets."

Twilight raised a brow. "Is that a fact?" The monster had hidden well, and become liked in the village. She was almost jealous.

"It is," the daughter warned.

"Good. Not here to kill her, just need to talk to her." Twilight lied. She had learned to be so monotone even the most scrutinous observer couldn't tell the difference.

And though the daughter was clever for a farm pony, she didn't stand a chance. "Fine. Bell's farm's across town. Big field, but land's poor this season so you shouldn't have trouble spottin' her house. Bit of a trot though."

Twilight nodded and thanked the young mare before making her way over to the town's inn. The monster wasn't going anywhere, probably confident in its security over the past few years, so she wanted to take the time to go over her equipment. It was a long way from any major city, and it was almost impossible to find a blacksmith who did anything more than forging nails and horseshoes.

"You thirsty traveler?" asked the innkeep when she entered.

Twilight nodded. "I'll have what's popular."

The innkeep spat on the floor. "Well you can fuck off, you sodding mutant."

The word turned heads and pulled in stares from around the inn. From a table in the corner, four stallions, local guards armed with kitchen knives or farm tools, approached Twilight.

"You're pretty far from the cities," one of them observed, judging her velvet lined armor and night silver infused titanium shoulder plates.

Twilight took one look at the mud covered ponies and walked past them, seating herself on a stool right in front of the innkeep.

"Contract on the monster in your lands," Twilight calmly replied. "I'm the monster hunter the landlord of these farms hired."

The innkeep clenched his teeth, but took one look at her sword and let the topic drop. "Leave the mutant alone boys. If she's smart, she'll be gone soon enough." With reluctance, the stallions returned to their seats and resumed their drinking.

The innkeep served a tall wooden mug to Twilight and stepped back like she was a wild animal, not even making eye contact while he cleaned the mugs. Twilight drank heartily, the cider tasting about as good as she expected for a small village of farms. It was mostly water down, spiced up with some strong smelling herbs that please the nose but left the tongue only wanting more.

But real luxuries, as Twilight learned in the first few months after passing her trials, were not to be expected. In fact, she was pleasantly surprised at the innkeep's willingness to serve something that wasn't water. Barely.

The villagers watched Twilight carefully as she drank and worked on her weapons. She checked her bombs and potions, keeping them away from moisture and making sure their seals were tight. From her saddlebag, she produced a fine repair kit and cleaned the dirt and dust from her sword's handle. She couldn't levitate the weapon and cast magic at the same time, and if the dirt got in the way of the sword latching onto her horseshoes, then the weapon would be doubly useless.

When the handle was properly clean and locked neatly onto her sword wielding hoof, she moved to its blade, sharpening it and coating it with a layer of powdered night silver. Most monsters couldn't stand the sting night silver delivered to their magical flesh, but for the monster Twilight had been contracted to kill, she would need all the night silver she could muster if she wanted to make more than paper cuts.

A few faces around the inn turned sour when Twilight checked her bat poisons, strengthening it by boiling the mixture again with the dried parts of vampire fruit bats. The innkeep almost demanded she leave her establishment when she used magic to heat the vials of poison, but he couldn't muster the courage to drive out a pony with fire coming from her horn.

Finally, as the sun set, Twilight was pleased with what she had. It wasn't perfect, anything rarely was when hunting monsters, but it was better than other situations she had been in. Finishing her sixth mug of the inn's cider, she strapped her saddlebag on and left for the house where the monster had settled in.

"There she is capt'n," she heard across the village road. "A real beast of a mutant, just like I said." As a monster hunter, her senses were trained and refined to the limits of what a pony could detect. But, as a mutant with magic, she was able to expand that threshold. She focused her ears as she trotted for the edge of the village, tracking the steps of five individuals tailing her. One wore armor far heavier than the rest, and she heard it in his thundering footsteps and in the clink clank as he moved.

From their whispering voices, Twilight recognized them as the guards who had tried to confront her at the inn, and the fifth must have been their glorious leader who they intended to cower behind.

"You going to follow me all evening or can I get to work?" She turned around and faced the guards. Subtlety was not their strong suit. They crawled out from behind crates and barrels that could never fully hide their bodies. The only one of them who didn't need to reveal himself was the captain, who trumped the guards so much in muscle mass and armor he clearly saw no point in trying to hide.

While the guards were clearly farmers, and were built with the muscles to plow land and swing sickles, the captain had the look of a soldier. His plate armor was thick but only fully covered his torso. On his legs, the plate was secured by leather straps that strained to contain the mass underneath.

"Strait to the point then?" the captain replied, with a distinct accent from The High Mountain Kingdom. Definitely not a local, Twilight noted. "Good, this'll be easier then. As captain of the guard, place you under arrest for premeditated murder."

"You failed to notice a crucial fact," Twilight said. "No pony is dead. Yet."

Around her, the guards began reaching for their weapons. The captain steadied them, however, and explained the charge. "You came here claiming to be a killer of monsters, but a witness informed us that you planned to visit the widow at that farmhouse over there." He pointed to the lonely building in the distance, the same one the farmer's daughter had described to Twilight. "We suspect you plan to kill the resident widow, not the monster."

"Yea, and Winter Holly'd never lie to us, so ye best give up now mutant!" added one of the guards.

The captain let out a sigh, a signal to the guard to stop talking. "Your punishments will be lessened if you come peacefully, in accordance to the Far Coast's Law of the Land, article one, section two. For the murder or attempted murder of-"

"I know the law captain," Twilight interjected. "Only real power in the big cities. But we're not in the big cities."

The captain nodded sadly, as if he wished Twilight had chosen the easy option. "Then you should know that under article one, section one, municipal laws govern punishments for violent arrests. I cannot guarantee you safety." The captain nodded to his guards and trotted back to town, his head held low.

"'ear that? You're ours now," one of the guards grinned.

The talkative one stepped closer. "And we've the perfect justice for ye."

"S'it true mutants can't have little ones?" Another guard creeped behind Twilight, though with her hearing he might as well have stood right in her line of sight. "Better be, I'm done watchin' where I put it."

The guards laughed, and the fourth one piped up. "Bet she's ne'er been with a stallion before. We'll be her first, second, third, and fourth. Hah!" He spat at Twilight's hooves and snickered. "What's the point'n 'aving all those extra parts if yer important one don't work?"

She targeted him first. "Back off." Her words carried forward with her spell, striking the stallion back with a white flash. Suddenly taken over with Twilight's magic, he dropped all his actions, turned, and trotted home.

"Witch!" cried the guard behind Twilight. He slipped his hoof through his mace's hoof strap and charged at Twilight, only to be repulsed by a magic barrier. The talkative guard charged too, swinging his lumber ax at her head. Twilight crouched low and performed a pirouette, drawing her sword and tripping the guard in one fluid action.

"I'll 'ave yer 'ead!" shouted the fourth guard, attacking while Twilight had her guard down. He started with a wide swing, pulling the shovel from his back in a sweeping arc. Twilight stood with her guard down, but not defenseless. With her weapon in a Fool's Guard, she twisted her body, letting her sword defend her side and deflect the heavy weapon. With the point of the blade behind her and her back to the guard, she backed into his charged and drove her sword through him.

"Run damn it!" the other two panicked, sprinting for their captain. Twilight considered going after them, but it was already dark and it would have been pointless to stop them. She didn't plan to stick around once the vampire was killed.

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"Knock knock," Twilight said sarcastically. The vampire already knew she was coming. Twilight licked her lips, concealing the last signs of the scentless poison she drank. Even with her trained resistance she knew she had to fight the vampire fast and then take the antidote before becoming paralyzed by its effects. It was a risk, but a necessary one in case the vampire ever took a sip of her blood.

She opened the door to the house slowly, focusing her magic sight on every detail in the air. The vampire was an old one, powerful both physically and magically. Illusions, mind spells, and even invisibility were all simple tricks to the monster.

"Came a long way to meet you," Twilight taunted, "Diamond Carrot spent a lot to bring you back. Well, he mainly asked for the head."

She rotated as she paced through the house, keeping everything in sight. She turned left and entered the kitchen, then moved across the house to the living quarters.

"Maybe I could jot your memory? Sold his son for a hefty ransom, which he happily paid, and then killed the colt the moment the gold was in your hooves. Ran off and evaded his revenge ever since." Twilight looked up the stairs, seeing a plethora of ornate decorations. Money well spent, she thought to herself.

Then the response hit her in the chest. The vampire came like a gust of wind down the stairs, knocking Twilight through a grandfather clock. "And you're a brave hunter." Twilight got up and met the vampire's hungry eyes.

"How'd you get to be so popular? You're vicious." Twilight watched for any sign of overconfidence. Vampires were notoriously powerful, but with that power came a belief that they were superior to all things, especially ponies. If she wanted to survive, she needed the vampire to underestimate her.

"It was easy, really," the vampire explained as if Twilight were but a child. "The mare who lived here was loved by the farmers. She was the medicine mare who healed all their ailments, and her husband was the best carpenter any farm could need. So I melted my mind with hers, replaced her will with mine. Not even her delicious husband noticed the switch."

"Impressive," Twilight said, concealing the dread that filled her. "Transplacement's not an easy thing to do." That level of magic made the vampire an even deadlier specimen than she imagined.

"Oh, don't worry monster hunter," growled the vampire. She hunched over suddenly, contorting her body in unnatural ways until claws sprouted from her hooves and bat wings tore through her back. "There's plenty of monster left in this body to hunt."

Twilight's barely moved her sword before the first claw swipe tore apart her armor. A second hit came, and she narrowly avoided it with a barrier spell. If she had taken that hit, she would have died. But Twilight didn't count herself lucky yet. She rolled across the floor dropping bombs on her path. Each exploded with the same effect, filling the house with night silver dust.

The material sparked at the vampire's touch, and irritated her flesh until she collapsed in pain. Twilight didn't buy into it though. While a vampire still felt plenty of pain, it took much more to take it out of fighting condition. Twilight blasted glyphs from her horn, forming a web of magic that stuck to the vampire and caused the night silver to flare up even more.

The vampire lunged at Twilight from the pain, swiping up and sending her up into the bedroom. The attack was weaker and slower from the restraining magic, but the vampire was still leagues ahead of Twilight in power. Falling back down into the living room, Twilight spun with her sword and cut the vampire's skin, burning it with more night silver. She saw an opening and fired a fireball, but still missed by a lot.

The vampire spread its wings and bolted around the house like sound on the wind, striking Twilight from behind and retreating before she could do anything. Twilight shot a spell of pure force but missed again, recovering with a smooth pirouette and slashing the vampire again. It cut deeper, but still failed to phase the monster. To retaliate, the vampire slashed her claws against Twilight's face, sending flying into the kitchen.

"You're not the first hunter I've fought," the vampire said, rushing in and grabbing Twilight by the throat. "But thy were all smart enough to run back and drop the contract."

She paused to smell the aroma of Twilight's mutant blood. "If you were a stallion I'd mount you while I drained your body. But, I guess I'll have to do it the boring way this time." She hissed and sank her fangs into Twilight's throat, tearing through muscle and veins alike to draw every drop of the warm liquid.

The poison hit the vampire's system with a record speed. She stumbled back the moment the bat poison took its effect, turning her limbs limp and slowing all her movements.

Twilight got up and threw back the vampire into the kitchen's wall, using her sword to help her up. "We're alike then. You're not the first vampire I've fought. But, unlike you, I've never let mine get away."

She heaved her sword up and swung it down, chopping off a leg before the vampire could crawl away. Twilight stopped her with a bomb from her saddlebag. The little jar shattered, and the liquid contents inside it caught fire the moment they touched air.

She was sure the whole village could hear the screams as the vampire burned, and it was the middle of the night while every pony was sleeping. "Wouldn't want to wake some good folk," Twilight sighed, forcing herself to catch the dying monster and finish it early with a clean strike to the neck. And another, and another. It was messy work, cutting through the tough muscle of the vampire, but Twilight finished the job and left with the head before prying eyes came searching for answers.

Comments

[Hantim]

Witcher 3 crossover, huh? Good work so far :)