Death Rides a Pale Mare

by totallynotabrony

Chapter 26

Staying busy had its perks. Not that Pale didn’t want to think about her newfound abilities, but with all the opportunities they afforded her, she didn’t have time to consider questions to which she might not want answers.

For example, if it turned out that she could only take on the lost spells of departed ponies, then that meant her father was as dead as any of the rest. It also implied that her special talent involved just as much death as anything else she did.

Pale did what she did, killing twitchers, because it needed to be done to stop the Blight. The idea that killing was her purpose in life, what she had been born to do, didn’t sit right. She was effective at it, but she’d begun to realize that she didn’t like it. And what would she do when the Blight was gone?

So, instead Pale focused on the now instead of the later.

She kept herself busy, learning how to use parasprites. She managed to reverse-engineer how Piper marked them to add to her menagerie. It would take a while, but Pale was confident that she could rebuild a surveillance network all around Equestria. The guild could go back to tracking down twitchers.

But first, they had to eliminate the cyclops. Pale’s first priority was getting sight of the Abysmal Abyss. Her second priority was organizing a plan of attack.

However, the seven members of the guild would not be enough. It would take time to find, recruit, and come to trust new members, time they might not have.

But even from beyond the grave, Piper came through for them once more. Pale had been obsessively consulting his notes, the only documents she’d managed to preserve from the cave. Near the back, she found Gilderoy’s name.

It was at the bottom of a list of other names, twelve of them in all. With no context, it was hard to say what they could mean.

But if they were what Pale hoped, it could be the answer she was looking for.

Pale called another meeting. When they were all there, she held up the list. “We need to find these ponies.”

“It won’t be easy tracking down just a name,” Jolly observed. His tone of voice suggested that it should have been obvious.

“You’re right,” said Pale. “Some of them are probably dead, if they could even be found. But what if there are other guilds still out there?”

They all thought about it. Not facing the cyclops alone was an attractive option.

“We could each take a copy of the list, and divide up Equestria to comb for them,” said Coin. “It won’t be easy, but I think it can be done.”

“I’ll send a parasprite with each of you,” said Pale. “But I need each of you to be at your sharpest. The guild is stronger together, but every one of you can improve and innovate even more.”

Pale looked around the room, seeing the determination in all of their faces. Nopony else in Equestria knew who they were, or what they did, but the seven of them were devoted beyond a shadow of a doubt to their cause.

Failure was unthinkable, but if required, all of them would go to their deaths fighting for this.

They divided up Equestria into segments for each of them to cover. The paper map of Equestria they used was inferior to the one back at the cave, but they used what they had. At any rate, they all remembered the notes scratched into the stone well enough. Pale assigned herself the northwest portion of Equestria.

“You’re going, too?” said Handsome.

“I can’t stay here,” said Pale. “I can’t only be the parasprite babysitter.” She turned it back on him. “Are you okay to travel?”

Handsome nodded. “I’ve been working on a half mask. Ponies will think I’m in the opera or something, but like you said, I can’t just sit here.”

Pale nodded. The guild’s survival might depend on this, but more importantly, so did all of Equestria’s. Even their youngest member understood exactly what they were fighting for.

With copies of the list of names, the group of them split up. They left the house together and Pale locked the door.

After trading hoofshakes and wishing each other luck, they got to work.

---

Pale sat on the train, delicately using her magic to thread a needle and support a small mirror. She’d been getting better with her abilities, but with every challenge met she found another. At least she’d reached the point where her magical control was such that not knowing how to sew was the bigger obstacle.

Handsome had taught her a few basics, and Pale was trying to apply them to her work. Using the mirror to sew in reverse on a garment she was already wearing was not easy, even if she had been well practiced. But in public, she wasn’t about to take her cloak off, and she had time while the train sped to Vanhoover.

She’d carefully slit the thread holding her father’s button to its scrap of cloth. With new thread, she affixed it to the throat of her cloak, replacing the plain button that had been there.

The brass glinted as she held it in place, slowly working the needle in and out. Juggling the button, the needle, and the mirror all at once while resisting the urge to use her hooves kept Pale’s mind occupied.

She centered the button and adjusted it so the design on the face was straight. She still had no idea what it might represent. Her best guess was perhaps some kind of family crest. Maybe when the cyclops were defeated and Pale could find some free time she would look into it.

Though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. There was no way her father could be worse than her mother, but would she enjoy meeting him? Could she respect him? Would he want to see her? That is, if he was even alive.

Pale decided to put the decision off. She could think about whether she really wanted to know when she could spare the thoughts to do it properly.

Finished with the sewing, Pale tied the knot and cut the thread. She’d discovered a minor ability to cut fragile things with just a thought.

She consciously avoided the thought that once again it seemed she had a natural ability that could be used to hurt or kill others. Did unicorns like Coin have thoughts like that? Naturally seeing herself as a weapon?

Pale put it out of her mind and sat back in her seat, closing her eyes. She’d spread the three black parasprites out over the length of the train, surveilling out of habit. There was nothing to lose by being careful.

She could monitor them in a passive way, even when concentrating on something else. However, it was only now that she’d assumed more direct involvement that she began to pick out details of what they saw.

She scrutinized each car. Again, it cost nothing to be careful. However, one stallion made her go back for a second look.

A newspaper lay in his lap and he was slowly tearing small rips down the edge of the paper. Every once in awhile, he would look around, side to side, up and down. Then, he coughed, just a short one that didn’t even require him to open his mouth.

It could have all been coincidence. But now, Pale was the one to decide that.

A pony moved in the aisle. The stallion Pale watched shifted a hind leg, but drew it back. A bemused look flashed across his face as if he was unsure why he had done it.

Pale made her decision and settled in to wait for an opportunity.

The train continued to chug forward. Pale kept alert. And then, fifteen minutes before arriving in Vanhoover, her chance came.

The twitcher got up and walked towards the restroom at the end of the car. Pale got up and headed in that direction. The restroom was located at a jog in the aisle, and out of sight of most passengers. Pale checked both ways, raised her scarf over her nose, and pushed into the restroom.

The stallion was more than a little surprised to have company, though he hadn’t started his business yet. Pale grabbed him by the neck, twisting him so he faced away. His chest heaved as he drew an involuntary breath. Quick as her reflexes, Pale shoved him forward and down, forcing his head into the toilet bowl just as he began to cough. His breath only expelled under water, and he only got a lungful of it when his body tried to inhale again for another cough.

She held him there until he went limp, propping his body on the floor to keep his nose underwater. It would be hard to call the scene an obvious accident, but there was little evidence to indicate anything else.

The parasprites covered the outside of the restroom and Pale exited, confident that she hadn’t been seen. She made sure the door was locked before closing it.

Returning to her seat and calming herself, Pale mentally reviewed the list of names from Piper’s journal again. It was so little to go on, but the guild had triumphed before with less. It might take awhile. It might require long hours and tireless effort. But if there were other guilds out there, she was confident that they would be found.

A few minutes later, the train stopped in Vanhoover. Pale walked to the door. The conductor said, “Have a good day.”

“I will,” Pale replied.

---

She scouted Vanhoover on hoof and via parasprite. By the next morning, she’d located a twitcher.

Pale followed them for a patient week. She was poised to eliminate them when they got close, but for now she simply watched. It was not lost on her the irony in copying the Weeds’ method.

One evening, she was perched on a rooftop across from the twitcher’s lighted apartment window. She lay prone on the flat roof under her. The sun had set hours ago, and Pale knew from watching over the previous days that the twitcher would likely go to sleep soon.

With parasprites, Pale checked in with the others, going about their missions in other parts of Equestria. Not surprisingly, Coin had been the first to see success. She hadn’t actually met up with another guild yet, but had found encouraging signs that one existed. She gave the parasprite with her a smile.

Pale was no micromanager, and neither had Piper been. Checking in once a day seemed sufficient. If any of them wanted to get her attention, the parasprites were there.

Speaking of parasprites, the ones patrolling the area around Pale picked up movement. She focused, getting a sense of direction and distance relative to herself.

A pony appeared on the roof across from her, right above the twitcher’s window. They peeped over the edge to check if the light was still on. Seeing that it was, they sat down to wait, appearing tense and poised.

Pale got up. Her movement immediately drew the attention of the new arrival. They stared at each other across the gap between buildings. Then, Pale lifted a hoof in greeting.

Comments

[Dlaf rferg]

If Pale has a natural talent for killing, does that mean when she kills someone with magic her mark will appear? Or can she not even get a mark at all, since changelings don't get them? Hm.

[bloons3]

It's a very morbid talent, to be sure.

[BlueNinja]

It seems more and more like something about Pale (beyond her name) is linked to death. What are the odds that she'd run into a twitcher ready to bloom on the same train?