Fair Flight

by Baryski

Chapter 10: End of a Master (Faith)

One flying aimlessly around the sky above the building, one trying to use a neighboring rooftop as a vantage point, and one painstakingly standing right in front of the door. Honestly, they couldn’t have stood out more if they had all held glowing signs that said, ‘Hey, I’m a Creed’. Once again, that familiar uneasiness had crept over Faith, worrying her that nothing should be this easy.

Hooftail wasn’t an elite division, that much was true, but were they really supposed to be this easy? Basic cover techniques, disguise imperatives, even trap setting, all of these should have been at least partially instilled, or was she just overthinking things again? At least one of them should have been plain clothes, hidden so as to not be noticed, but none of them were. At least one should have been standing around a trap of some kind, but Faith could discern none of them.

As awkward as the chance was, they had to take. By the time another opportunity like this came along who knew how dangerous the situation would have become. Faith readied herself as she silently dropped out of the sky above the pony who had so hopefully taken a position so as to witness anything that might happen to the others. Too bad they weren’t watching him.

A clean slice and he went down, severing his windpipe and jugular in one fluid movement. Quickly, the pony was caught and forcibly propped up against his vantage point. One down, two to go. Twenty seven minutes remained.

Faith watched the skies counting the breaths as she waited. After what felt like an eternity the guard circling wobbled and fell quickly into a side street. That left just one guard and a smaller window. It was all but impossible for the two to kill the one in flight without it being noticeable he wasn’t there anymore. That left one option.

Faith tucked her wings under the pure white cloak and hopped off the roof of the building. Hooves collided with landings, fire escapes, windows, and even a clothesline as she descended. It was a dance down the building, but considerably less conspicuous than a pegasus gliding down. The assassin silently hit the ground, a flurry of hooves and fabric. She could only guarantee another minute and a half before the pony’s absence was detected.

Time to test the potentially explosive present Rose gave me. Faith silently breathed what she hoped would not be her last breath, she never told Scarlet about the possibility of her equipment exploding on her, and let her hoof touch the mechanical release on the inside of the mounted launcher. She felt the familiar twang of the release as the dart left the chamber and sped away. Instantly the new mechanisms replaced the dart with the next one loaded into the cartridge. Rose’s design was faster, more efficient, and hadn’t exploded. Magic penetration couldn’t be verified, but not dying was always a plus.

A few precious seconds later the guard in front of the door swatted at what he must have believed a mosquito. Only once he found the dart did he seem truly worried, but it was already too late. He slumped to the ground within seconds. Seven minutes from start to incapacitation. Not bad. She silently worked to move the guard away from the door and out of any potential viewers while awaiting her partner’s arrival.

Shortly thereafter Faith’s partner joined her outside the door. It was amazing, the way Scarlet could stroll up nonchalantly given the situation the two were in. Faith admired that about the mare, and countless other things. The two stood in silence as the orange pegasus worked at the door, checking for countless types of possible traps. Secretly, Faith hoped she would find, or trip, one or two of them, but the assassin was slowly beginning to understand that couldn’t happen.

“Clear. We’re good to go.” The uneasy feeling in Faith’s throat was reaching an all time high, but there really was no going back now. Half of her was expecting twenty well trained assassins to run them through the second the door opened, the other half was expecting absolutely nothing. It was a strange feeling to know the setup existed and yet not understand why. There had been a dozen chances to take them out already, letting them get to the door served no purpose, “Now let’s go end this.”

The door opened silently to...nothing. Not that it was a tremendous surprise, but not being dead was pleasant nonetheless. Now, if only that uneasy feeling would go away, perhaps if she brought up dinner?

Faith made sure to take point ahead of Scarlet, the tight hallways of the Creed base could only fit two ponies wide if they jammed themselves against the walls. In other words, if a fight broke out, it was easy to get trapped down, but also easy for Faith to block access to the one she wanted to protect.

Low torches flickered as they walked, shadows creeping off corners, doors, and other haphazardly placed equipment, leaving all sorts of imaginary beasts and killers creeping into the two ponies minds. Dangerous four headed hounds trained to dispatch intruders, poisonous lizards, or great winged abominations, they all existed within the confines of Faith’s uneasy mind, brought to light so easily. Too easy, far too easy.

Like most bases Faith had ever been in, the actual base extended downwards into underground basements rather than to the higher floors. She stopped in front of the door leading to the lower levels, pushing the uneasiness out of the way for a moment, “Into the belly of the beast?”

“Well. It’s now or never. Would you rather go back?” It seemed her partner had picked up on Faith’s uneasiness, or maybe they were both equally uneasy with how easy this had been. It was an obvious trap, but this was as close as they would be able to get for the longest time, “It’s your choice, Faith.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? It was her choice, and she couldn’t bear the thought of walking Scarlet into a trap or of disappointing her expectations. What would the old Faith have done? The old Faith would have seen the trap a mile away, she never would have fallen for it. She would have regrouped, come up with a better...No. Faith was painfully aware of what the old Faith would have done. The door opened lightly under her hoof. The old Faith would certainly have noticed the setup, but she would have walked right in anyway. The old Faith would have taken them down no matter the cost.

New Faith just hoped she didn’t live to regret the choice. Hoofs descended the stairs lightly, one floor, then another, then another. Three floors down, quarters for those of high enough rank. Before exiting into the floor she did one thing both New and Old Faith would have regretted.

“No matter what happens, if things go bad, you turn and get out, okay?” She turned, kissed the mare behind her, and left her no time to argue as they stepped out. The hallway here was much wider, designed with the possibility that many members might be trying to get to and from their rooms at the same time. Likewise, the hallway was lined with scratches, scrapes, burns, and explosion holes, likely the result of whatever training and experimentation the members here tried.

If the alarm was raised now, who knew which members might be in the base at this time. Worst case scenario was both of the remaining elite members plus at least a dozen of their best fighters. It wasn’t a particularly appetizing scenario, but the idea that dozens of members were hiding behind the doors, just waiting to spring an ambush, was far less appetizing. Still, they continued.

A few rooms in an unfamiliar sensation took over, a firm grasp on one of her hooves. It was comforting, in a terrifying way, to know she could be relied on. It didn’t matter now, though. Still no ambushes, still nothing. A completely free path to their master’s room. Perhaps, just perhaps, the information had been on the level. Maybe Hooftail really was this incompetent. Perchance they weren’t going to get skewered. That last one would have been rather nice.

The final door creaked open, while Faith cursed for a quieter door under her breath, to reveal the inside of the master’s room. Ornate, but sparse, grand in the context of a Creed accommodation, deadly and simple. And, of course, tucked away at the back was a large bed with a sleeping pony on it. Could it have been any more perfect? Honestly, no and that was part of the problem.

Within easy reach was the very being that had destroyed everything she had known and, at the same time, given her everything she had never thought about before. But, it was never supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be some kind of a grand battle where she made them witness his execution. This, standing less than a room away from him being completely defenceless, was just too easy. Then again, every pony had a reason. Easy or not, they could accomplish two tasks at once, and make two ponies perfectly happy.

“So, what do you think,” Faith’s hooves ran over a piece of Royal Guard armour ornately displayed in one of the closer corners. He liked souvenirs, the entire room spoke of that. Her whispers were low, but still the figure on the other side of the room jostled slightly in his bed. It didn’t matter, though, this was far from what she had ever expected.

“What do I think,” Scarlet was angry, probably rightly so. There were a fair number of pieces representing TWOS in this pony’s collection. It only seemed right that it triggered some kind of rage. Though, it was always the ones that didn’t have souvenirs that fared the worst. A souvenir was a memory, a record that a pony had been alive. How many didn’t get such an honour, “If those are what he kept… Faith, imagine how many have died for that slime.”

Two hundred and sixty-four at last count. That was her number. She was not without blood on her hooves, no matter how she looked at it. Politicians, militants, innocents, and royals, none had been spared from her blade. As much as it might disgust Scarlet, it was a part of who she was, a part she had no intention of apologizing for.

“Who do you think this belonged to,” Faith was confronted with something she would have preferred not to think of. Her father’s cloak, a massive symbol of power and respect. Scarlet had meant to raise some hatred, but hatred was the last thing she could feel looking at a cloak like that. Sadness and sorrow, a single tear, maybe even a question as to what would happen if the roles were reversed, but she didn’t feel anger, “Ask yourself that. I don’t think anything about this. I feel it’s time for him to pay for his crimes.”

How long had he been dissatisfied? Destroying Lore division, certainly an accomplishment, but not really one you displayed unless it was sanctioned. Who had authorized the killing of her family for a second time, well, she probably already knew the answer. For the time being, it didn’t even matter. She had this for now.

Walking over to the bed she glanced at the old stallion in it. Such a peaceful sleep for a killer, maybe one day she would learn how to have peaceful sleeps, “Two hundred and sixty-five,” Whispered under her breath as she waited for Scarlet to join her before nudging the pony.

“Wake up,” She nudged him again. She just didn’t feel like killing a sleeping pony today, “It’s judgement day and we’re all out of golden tickets.”

The pony under the sheets roused slowly, obviously confused at the sight of the two mares standing over his bed, not that it really mattered. Soon his eyes fell on Scarlet, examining the cloak she wore and ignoring the one he could not understand for the moment, “You aren’t a part of Hooftail, especially not an elite. Who are you? Did you think you would get in just because you made yourself...”

He was cut off by Faith waving her bracer in his face, blade extended, “You know, it isn’t good to ignore a pony. It’s almost as bad as, say, leaving one member of a division alive.” Her heart wasn’t entirely into the threats, but she was picking up steam with every threat she threw his way.

A laugh and a smile, nothing less would befit the final moments of a Creed. He was aware there was likely no escape left, but he would taunt his captors to their grave, “Then you must be Faith. Tell me, how fares your noble ‘father’?” To some degree it was a fair enough question, but still stung. And, before Faith could even come up with a witty comeback, the stallion had a blade embedded in one of his forehooves.

It was grim and without mercy, Scarlet seemed to enjoy the blood dripping out of the now crippled hoof, I’m certain you can go ask him, if you’re really that concerned of his well-being, can’t you?” Every word she said reinforced how much she hated this pony, but Faith wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or just a general hatred of Creed.

Still, even with a bleeding and crippled hoof, the master looked calm and collected. His voice bespoke of his arrogance even through the pain, “It’s rather funny to think about.”

“What is?”

“A once great Creed elite,” He was baiting her and she knew it, but Faith still walked into it, “Being reduced to this. To taking a pet. Or, are you the pet now?”

“Once a killer, always a killer,” She couldn’t use Creed anymore, she no longer felt anything like a Creed, but she was still something and she drove that fact home right across one of his legs, watching the crimson stain spread along his sheets and smiling only a little bit.

“You’ve renounced your origins. I see you’re now working with the TWOS.” He stopped, paused, and almost lewdly stared in Scarlet’s direction. That was, until Faith nudged his wounded leg with an exactly decided look, she’s mine, “Thought I wouldn’t notice? Her posture, the way she wields the blade. She’s never even had one before. Being in love with the enemy... Your father would be disappointed.”

“I’m working for myself,” In a way the words still seemed too new, but she didn’t like being associated with TWOS, Scarlet would have been fine, “It’s hard to want to stay a Creed when you realize what’s wrong with the organization. I think father would have been proud of me, of everything, but I guess I won’t be able to discuss it with him for a long time.”

“Do you want me to tell him how much you miss him? Maybe you could do that yourself. I doubt any of you will be getting out alive. One question, though. Before you end me, you must have broken in during the guard shift. How can two ponies single hoofedly defeat ten guards?”

“Ten? Sorry to tell you this,” Faith finally laughed out. The setup was finally becoming clear, “There wasn’t a single guard inside. Maybe somepony wanted you dead.”

“Of all the ways I thought I’d die, an inside job was probably one of the bottom ten I thought would happen. Do what you have to do, girls. You’ll be joining me soon enough.”

“Perhaps,” Faith eyed the door, anxiously trying to find a second exit out of a one exit room three floors below ground, “But, it seems fitting, doesn’t it? If anypony would know about killing comrades, it would be you.”

“What seems fitting is an assassin trying to play house,” He chuckled evilly again, motioning to Scarlet, “If you do survive, however unlikely that chance is, how long will it be before you grow bored of your game? How long before she realizes how much blood on your hooves? You are what you will always be, a Creed can never be anything different. Two hundred sixty-five, was it?”

Faith gritted her teeth, letting the blade drop away from the Creed master. He was definitely right, but what happened next? Where did Faith go from here, where did Faith and Scarlet go from here? Maybe it wasn’t the best place to be asking those questions, but death was likely a few hoofsteps away, “This is never going to be just a game that I play, no matter what happens next. I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. though.”

Just then, hoofsteps started piling up. They’re welcome had finally been warn out and the master was smiling sadistically while he saw it dawn on Faith’s face. Her partner, the first to speak, “Faith! They’re here!”

“Yes, Faith, they’re here. What happens next?” He was enjoying every one of his last moments, dripping with contempt for the mare he was sure was going to end his life.

“Save me a seat in the lowest level of Tartarus reserved for monsters like us,” It was over in the blink of an eye, she drove the blade home, exliciting the first kill the new weapon would encounter, but certainly not the last, “I’ll be joining you one day.”

“Oh my god, they’re here,” Faith spun around, blood still dripping from her blade as ponies began to show up at the door just in time to witness their master’s death, those few final breaths before he would no longer be a part of this coil.

“They killed the master, bring them down for the glory of Hooftail!” The voice came from the back somewhere, far too calm to be the normal reaction. Faith assumed one of the ponies that had set this up, but she would never be able to be sure.

Three bullets signalled the start and three ponies leading the charge dropped instantly from Scarlet’s accuracy. Faith jumped into action shortly afterwards, dashing ahead of Scarlet and calling back, “If I clear an opening, you run. No buts.”

The rest, as they say dear ponies, is history. Faith launched herself into a cacophony of blades, ponies, and blood. Never had she been so glad Rose forced something on her as she was about the rear bracer blade. It was slightly awkward, but it provided her the defence she needed from behind as well as increasing her ability to actually inflict damage.

She was a flurry of cuts, wings, and destruction. Most of the members in front of her died in nearly two strokes of her blades. Even the elite members just didn’t have the heart to put up their normal skill level. What they did have was numbers, and space.

For every one that went down at least two would take his place, even with forty enemies the pace was slowly wearing her down. Finally, she cleared open her precious path, a few bodies between herself and the approaching horde. It wouldn’t last long, only a few seconds, just long enough for one pony to make her escape. Of course, this mare already had a specially reserved seat waiting for her, but Scarlet had no such ties.

Faith could control the flow of battle, she could instill fear into ponies hearts, she could even best that cloaked pony they called Death, but what she could not do was control Scarlet in any way, unfortunately. As the path quickly closed, filled by another three ponies, the flow of battle had found Scarlet beside Faith, battling neck and neck alongside the mare. She would have almost been proud, if it wasn’t for her righteous fury.

“Scarlet, what are you doing? Get out of here,” Scarlet had skill, and ability. The mare stood neck and neck against the increasingly dangerous onslaught. Every parry of the blade was met with bullet or some equally dangerous attack. The period of advantage, however, was slowly drawing to a close. The oncoming ponies had recovered from the initial shock of their master’s death and had regained their composure. No, they were more dangerous than normal because they had something more important to fight for. They had started fighting for the glory of a blood stained organization.

As the seconds ticked by, ponies became harder and harder to kill. What had taken only two swipes precious seconds ago was now taking more than five. With each pony taking longer to kill it was no longer possible to avoid damage from the warzone. Faith’s sides and hooves were slowly becoming a patchwork of near dodges and bare misses. The precious life fluid was seeping out of every wound, weakening her even more. Seconds, maybe minutes, how much longer could they last? Then, it happened.

The mare she had been unable to watch over in the heat of battle slumped to the ground, a dart embedded in an outstretched wing; the outstretched wing that had been in front of Faith. Scarlet had protected her, she had protected her and was going to die for it. There were no words, no emotions, strong enough for what ran through Faith at that moment. Pain, and battle, ceased to exist. She felt the blade slice deeper into her side, but it didn’t exist. The only thing that existed was that mare, dying, and a pure, unadulterated, guttural rage swelling up from the depths of her soul.

The rage erupted outwards; a scream more primal than the beginnings of life itself. She exploded outwards. Blades, darts, even time itself no longer held any power over her. The first two blades hers crashed into were cut asunder under the pure force of her rage; shortly there after ending the lives of the ponies who had wielded them.

Now, even this underground world, where her strength had been waning, was Faith’s playground. The thirty pounds of assassin’s gear was nothing. She darted, her wings propelling her at impossible speeds and with improbable dexterity. Ceilings, walls, doorways, and ponies, they were all a part of her sky now and she bounded off all of them. Ponies fell in sequence, unable to react to the speed at which their foe exchanged locations. She was going to leave every one of them dead here, no matter what it cost her.

The rage continued to fuel her, drive her, and engulf her. It pushed her past any semblance of a limit in her body, and terrified the ponies who fought against her. “Monster”, “Demon”, “Impossible”, “God of Death”, and even a legendary term were muttered as the tide of battle shifted. Creed were never supposed to be afraid, but fear could not be stopped in the face of such a powerful rage. The last thing in Faith’s world was gone and she would end theirs for it.

Finally, she slowed down. Only two remained now, two out of what had to have been at least sixty by the time reinforcements had come, one whose face still remained out of view. The rage and tide of battle was taking its toll now. Her body could no longer handle being pushed past its limits and her breath was as ragged as a childhood favourite doll.

The foremost of the two remaining ponies slumped to the ground, a dagger sticking out of his back. The unknown pony chuckling against the bloodied hallway, “So, this is the kind of pony who could bring fear to even the most hardened pony?”

Faith no longer had the strength to utter a response. She was standing against a situation she couldn’t begin to understand.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you,” The cloaked pony stood aside in the hallway, a pile of bodies the only thing between Faith and the door, “I’d say you’ve earned your reward. You have no idea what you’ve done for my comrade and I.”

It was a female voice, Faith could discern no more than that as it continued, “You get to live, for now. But, you’ll have every Creed in existence after you now. And, I get to rebuild Hooftail to be even stronger.”

“Scarlet?” She managed between ragged gasps for air, her vision slowly blurring from the blood loss and exertion.

“Take her and go. If you get lucky enough, you might have enough time to get her somewhere to counteract the poison,” It was a slim chance, hardly one in ten thousand, but it was enough to drain the remaining rage out of Faith’s hooves. Life had to take priority over death, even the death Faith felt she deserved, “What are you waiting for then? GO.”

Faith needed no more prodding. She was off, perilously drained body beating against time to scramble her precious other half somewhere safe. Faith didn’t want to think of what she would become if Scarlet died.

“I wonder,” Raven, the cloaked pony, mused against the dead bodies lining her new base, “What it will be like the next time we see them.”