> Equestrian Blood Mage: The Scent of Blood > by lupin the vapour > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Bloody Mare > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Badlands, Turvapaikka, Four Days since the Ponyville Incident Twilight stood in the desert, confused. Last she remembered, she had been sleeping in the cot that she had been given for the night. Now she was standing in the sand, looking out at the dark horizon. Then she recognized it. That mountain from her dream. It was glowing red again, and as she watched, it seemed that a piece of that red broke off and streaked across the sky towards her. As it grew closer, she could make out the shape of a pony, though only a vague one. It appeared to be made of some kind of red liquid that flowed around to make the appearance of an earth pony mare with a short mane and tail. As it touched down, it formed the textures of eyes to stare at the princess, "Hello, Princess. I believe that you were curious about Blood Magic." Twilight shook her head, "No... Well, not especially. I honestly already know more than I'd like, though I suppose I may as well know more now that I'm labeled a Blood Mage myself." Twilight licked her lips, "Ah, my name is-" "I know your name, Miss Sparkle. The other Blood Mages have been speaking of you quite a lot." "Right... uh... may I ask... What are you?" The bloody mare sighed, "I am what's left of a Blood Mage. We exist only as spirits inhabiting the blood we called our own back when we thought nature was a plaything that we could do with as we pleased. Let's just say that she doesn't care for those that treat her like their bitch for the purpose of ending lives. Now we wander at the entrance to the afterlife in hopes that she'll take mercy on us. Until then, though, I try to turn new Blood Mages away from the mistakes I made." Twilight narrowed her eyes, "So you were a killer?" "Oh, yes, though I didn't go around wantonly killing everypony I saw like some of the heinous souls on that accursed mountain. I thought I was a good pony, doing the deeds that had to be done. Mine was a more violent time. A darker time... My name was Blood Scent, and I was a private investigator. I hunted down the criminals that the guard couldn't find, and I was good at my job." "So, if you were a law pony, why did nature brand you as a murderer?" Blood Scent looked off into the distance, "Because I was. Because no amount of justice doled out would ever make what I had done right. Have you ever heard the saying 'power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely'? Having the power of life and death in your hooves is a heady thing... Knowing that the only thing you have to do to kill anypony in your sight was to give a little pull and the very blood in their vessels would burst free to kill the one it had just been giving life... "Actually, I think it would be best if I told you the full story. I'll start with the beginning of the case that started my slide. Now, I'm sure you've read plenty of detective novels, Miss Sparkle, so I'm sure it will come as a surprise that this one was not delivered on a foggy Monday night. No, it was a Tuesday morning. The day after my birthday, actually. I still had some cake left in my desk..." Canterlot, 221B Candlestick Street, 500 years before the Ponyville Incident. It was the middle of Spring, on a fairly bright morning. I sat staring out the window as I alternated between taking a draw on my pipe and a sip of my coffee. The sun had just risen on the dew soaked streets and there were insects buzzing outside my window, going about their merry way to whatever business they had for themselves. A spider had built her web right outside. It was covered with dew, and looked like a tapestry of pearls. I remember the colors of the flowers, though not their types. All this is preserved perfectly, because I was watching the garden in the small bed outside my office when he walked in. At the time, I saw it as a convenient distraction from my boredom and a potential paycheck, but now I realize that I would have been better off if Discord himself had stormed through the door that morning. "Are you the one named Blood Scent?" To this day, I think he had an enchantment put on him, because I can't remember his face or his cutie mark. All I remember was that he was a clean white unicorn. His accent and voice quality marked him as upper class, no pretender would put that much emphasis on the first word of my name and still sound like he was almost sick. It made me smile. Still does, really, I was the best in the business, despite the unicorns' spells and the pegasi's ability to get to places where no earth pony could. It galled the high and mighty that a mere dirt pony was who they had to come crawling to with twice the money of her next best competitor. But I digress. "That would be the name on the door, wouldn't it? You can read, can't you, friend?" I took a long draw of my pipe and blew a ring in his direction, "That'd be an 'O'. I'll work on the other letters later." As the ring parted around the unicorn's head, his reddening complexion and his enraged expression gave the illusion that the smoke was actually coming out of his ears, "Listen, you filthy whore, it's bad enough I have to come all the way down here to find some dirt pusher, I won't-" I coughed a little as I laughed, "Come now, friend. I just tried to help you get ahead in life, and you're going to call me names? Not very sporty of you. Gives me half a mind to add those lessons onto the bill of whatever your little request might be." I could vaguely hear a crack that could either be a carriage out on the street, or his teeth grinding each other to dust, "Listen. I've got a problem that needs taking care of. There's been a kidnapping-" "Sorry, friend, I don't do anonymous kidnapping victims. That'd be a job for-" A hoof on my desk cut me off, "I said listen! I know you don't do rescues. I don't want the idiot back alive, is that simple enough for you to understand, Dirt Pony?" My smile had vanished. I leaned forward to get eye to eye with him. I reached over and picked his hoof up off the desk effortlessly and held it there. I looked down at it, feigning mild fascination, "Listen, friend. I don't tell ponies this often, but I feel I can trust you with this. Do you know why I don't do rescues?" I latched my magic onto the blood in his hoof, "It's because you civilian ponies are so... fragile!" I pulled the blood in to crush the joint as I squeezed with my own hoof. It was always so gratifying to hear that crunch with so little effort on my part. He screamed as I let him go, "Now, how about we remember who needs who in this situation, and you explain to me why I should do your snuff work for you, hmm?" Tears were rolling down his face as his eyes that I can't remember looked at me in fear. The room began to take on the smell of piss and blood, though the later was only so strong to my own nose, "You're crazy." My smile returns as I sit back down, "Actually, I am self assured. I know that you won't go to the ponies that rely on my services with this, because they'll believe my story of self defense. You can't go to any other investigators in the area, because they know better than to cross me. You can't go to the Princess because you don't want to be subjected to one of her moods she has when reminded of the state things are in. You have no recourse in this situation, and if you think rationally, you'll realize that so long as you don't talk down to me or continue with the insults, you will remain safe from further harm. A crazy pony would have done that for no reason and in a situation where she would actually suffer consequences. As for you, I'm going to charge you double normal price if I decide to take your petty job at all. Are we clear?" He nodded, "Excellent. Now, you wanted your brother killed?" "I never said-" "Please, friend, I keep up with crime rings and which ones have hostages so that I don't get suckered into a rescue by a well-meaning relative. You've recently taken out a large sum of money, though not the right amount for the ransom. Now, Mister Pants, we are going to talk in real terms, not finicky ones. Do you want your brother killed?" He hesitated for seventeen seconds by my count, then licked his lips, "Yes."