The umber-coated pony wearing in a dark brown leather jacket walked briskly but unhurriedly down the street, and turned down one of the many side alleys in pursuit of his target. It was late in the night so he did not have to worry about prying eyes.
Upon entering the alley, he quickly took note of his environments. The alley was a dead end, with a two-metre wire fence blocking the way through to another street. Other than that, there were a few dumpsters on either side of the alley, and a set of rusting metal stairs and platforms running up to various residences on the right side. An orange lambda symbol was graffitied on one of the walls. There was nowhere his quarry, an earth pony (who was frankly not in good physical shape) could go.
‘Heyyeeaaah!’
He brought his right hoof forcefully behind his head, where it made contact with his target, who seemed to have attempted a noisy and unsuccessful ambush. There was a dull thud as the other pony landed unceremoniously on the floor.
‘I could hear you breathing, you know.’
The dun, grey-maned earth pony scrambled to take hold of the knife he had dropped, but it was whisked out of his reach by his pursuer. His expression changed from one to wild determination to dread.
‘You know, ambushes are usually quiet.’
The assailant toyed with the knife as he spoke, throwing it the air, spinning it around in his grasp, before finally throwing it casually behind him, where it landed with a dull clang in an empty dumpster.
‘Look, Dusk, I can make it worth your while. Take a rain check. Please.’
Dusk continued to approach his target, taking his time as he slowly trotted up to where the dun-coloured pony was scrambling backwards. He found that it tended to make his victims nervous.
‘I would, but how am I going to answer to my employers, Smoke? In my line of work, it’s all about trust you see. ‘
He got closer.
‘Who’s going to give me another contract if I breach their trust? Like how you breached our employers’ trust two week ago and ran off with nearly five thousand bits’ worth of marejuana.’
‘Please, Dusk. I have a family to feed. Just let me off. Let us off.’
Dusk was now standing almost directly over his ‘contract’, silhouetted against the dim moonlight that penetrated the depths of the alley. He let out a laugh of cruel amusement.
‘Well, you’ve caught me in a good mood with your antics. So I guess I can make an exception.’
Dusk noted with some pleasure at the expected reaction. Smoke’s shoulders visibly sagged with relief and he let out an undisguised sigh.
‘Thanks Dusk. You don’t know what this means to me. Really—‘
‘Just tell me where you hid the stash.’
‘It’s in an abandoned shed, three kilometers south-east from here. The combination from the lock on the door is five, eight, one.’
‘How do I know you’re not lying?’
‘Um…’
‘Because…’
Dusk picked up the other pony’s wallet from where it had fallen, forgotten until then. He back faced his target and started rifling through the contents of his wallet, then turned around.
‘…if I find out you’re lying, it’s not you I’m going to come after,’
He threw the wallet onto the chest of the other pony, still on the ground, followed by a photograph of a younger Smoke, a dark yellow mare and two young foals.
‘It’s them.’
Dusk really was in a good mood. The contract had gone off without a hitch, even though it was only a low-risk and –pay ‘soft’ job. He had managed to conform to his employers’ wishes to retrieve their package while maintaining a minimal amount of violence. He preferred to keep his approach non-lethal.
This brought his mind subconsciously to the non-legal and non-moral quality of his line of work. At the edge of his mind, the ghost of a conscience still nagged him. He really hadn’t wanted to threaten his quarry, to see him in fear like that…but business was business, and he had to look out for himself anyway. Besides, nopony got hurt.
Distracted by his musings, he almost missed the old shed Smoke was talking about. Stopping at the door, he noticed with satisfaction and minor relief that there was a numerical lock on the door. At least he would not have to make good his threat regarding Smoke’s family. No matter how his career had become part of him, he did not want to take an innocent life, much less two or three.
What was the combination again? Five…eight…one…bingo! The lock opened with a clack. Dusk swung the thin wooden door open on its rusted hinges. His eyes fell on the medium-sized cardboard box on the floor, its content of cigarettes, supposedly of legit brand names visible through a gap in the lid. Good. Now there was only one thing left to do.
Dusk watched soundlessly from a rooftop, close to Smoke’s apartment. He watched as the dull brown-grey pony approached his apartment with caution, unaware of Dusk’s prying eyes. Smoke rang the doorbell and waited for a few seconds before a bright green filly threw the door open and jumped into his arms joyfully.
Returning the gesture with a hearty laugh, Smoke entered the house and closed the door, locking and latching it. He sat down on the couch and called out to somepony out of sight. Dusk changed his viewing position to an open window on an adjacent wall.
What appeared to be the mare in the photograph from earlier appeared and hugged Smoke tightly. Dusk in contemplative silence as Smoke conversed with his wife, head hung low, about tonight’s events.
‘They sent someone after me tonight, and I had to tell him where I hid the stuff.’
The mare simply looked at him lovingly and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
‘It’ll be fine. We’ll get through this. It’s about time for us to live clean anyway, for the foals’ sakes…’
The couple sat by each other, their mutual love and trust breaching the wall of physical silence between them. Smoke sighed deeply, momentarily just another stallion with a huge burden and no way of shouldering it.
‘He threatened me, you know. He threatened to go after you and our kids, if anything wasn’t right. Maybe all of you should just go somewhere safe and wait this out.’
Dusk Edge felt his guilty conscience become a little more noticeable in his mind, and cringed. Every job had a negative factor.
Smoke’s wife placed a hoof on his cheek, gently guiding his line of sight until their eyes met.
‘Do you remember when you first told me about your job, and why you didn’t want to make commitments? Like I said then, no matter what happens, I want to be right here with you. We’ll face this together.’
Dusk broke off his gaze and edged away from his viewpoint, mulling over the outcome of the situation. Part of him was glad that he hadn’t caused any permanent damage to the family, but there was also disgust. Disgust that he had pursued the matter to its end, disgust at his blatant excuse of an attempt to be responsible for his actions, disgusted that he was so soft. Two long years and he still couldn’t come to terms with is job. It was a weakness, and it caused him to scorn himself to the very core.
It was all very confusing, as emotions always were after the incident, so he simply pushed it aside, save the personal compromise of an exasperated sigh and a wistful, longing glance into the distance, where the moon perched itself on a faraway mountain range.
The exchange took place in one of the private booths in the Weary Windigo, a seedy little establishment in the lower levels of Cloudsdale. Dusk had delivered his side of the bargain to the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, who would take a cut of whatever his employers paid him, and give him the rest. He was currently in conversation with Eye Spy, the Guild’s contract manager.
‘Here’s your pay for another job well done. Now, about that assignment,’ Eye Spy paused and waited for the mercenary to give him his full attention.
Dusk looked up from the mug of ale held between his hooves, unusually strong anticipation hidden behind an unimpressed stare. Eye Spy was not the kind of pony to dither in making his point. Whatever this was, it was important.
‘I’m listening.’
‘The Guild has noticed that your performance has only been improving ever since you joined us. In the light of your recent success, we’ve decided to give you a Black Contract.’
Black Contract. This was the best news that Dusk had received in a long, long time. A Black Contract was the code given to high-priority, high-confidentiality assignments. They were among the most dangerous and glorious tasks a bounty hunter could receive. The pay off one such contract was almost as high as the risk itself, not to mention the bragging rights and boost in reputation.
The corners of his mouth curved upwards for the merest fraction of a second before he resumed his impassive expression once more and waited for Eye Spy to continue.
‘You’ll be working for a very...peculiar client with a contract that can be considered to be of a debatably religious nature. Needless to say, there’s a fair measure of risky business, and frankly, they’re not paying you enough. Not that the pay isn’t high, just not enough.’
‘More like the Guild isn’t giving me big enough slice of the pie…,’Dusk commented with mock accusation. Eye Spy ignored the jibe and continued.
‘Our customer has stressed repeatedly that the operation needs to go smoothly, or we may never get another chance, high-value target and all that. Also, we’re working on a need-to-know basis, and we’re going to need someone can operate alone. The less who know about this contract, the better chances we have of succeeding.’
‘This contract is starting to sound very…military…’
‘In more than one sense as well. If you choose to accept this contract, you may well have to tangle with your old colleagues in the Royal Guard. You know them well, so it shouldn’t be a problem.’
Eye Spy paused and cleared his throat, looking quite hesitant and almost undetectably apologetic.
‘Due to the confidential nature of this contract, I’ll have to secure a response from you before I continue.’
Dusk contemplated the situation, eyes angled down and defocused. He didn’t like to work for dubious customers, purely as a matter of personal preference, maybe, he had to admit, as a way of easing his dying conscience. But this opportunity might never come again if he denied it. Everypony would see him for what he was. Weak. Sentimental. No, he would not allow himself the weakness of emotion. Not again, not like the last time…
‘I’ll do it.’
The contracts manager brightened up instantly.
‘Excellent. You’ll have the pleasure of meeting up with our client very shortly.’
‘Where and when?’
'Now.’
He beckoned to somepony who was out of Dusk’s line of sight, and a very, very peculiar pony appeared a few seconds later. The third member of the ‘get-together’ was a pony Dusk would have imagined to be right at home in some sort of foals’ cartoon, not dealing out Black Contracts to mercenaries. He was conspicuous in every imaginable way. First of all, in contrast to the rugged impression that one generally got from the attire of the scum that frequented Lower Cloudsdale, this character wore a taut, speckles black suit. Perched on his neck was a polka-dotted turquoise bow tie, and his back pocket bulged with sand and a cactus.
Dusk was extremely doubtful as to whether this particular pony could cough up the amount he or his organization promised. He looked like he had either escaped from a mental asylum or was a distant cousin of the Element of Laughter. Then again, it could have been a complicated guise to throw off any unwanted attention. Interesting…
‘Um, Dusk, this is our client, Mr. Case. Sir, this is the, uh…agent we’ve assigned to the assignment.’
Dusk reached out a hoof in a somewhat awkward offer to shake. Case looked like he was about to take it, but at the last second his own hoof veered away in the opposite direction and slapped him in the face. So much for a formal introduction…
‘Pleasure meeting you, Dusk. Now, if you don’t mind, Eye Spy, I’d prefer to personally brief him on the assignment, as you put it so elegantly.’ With that, the peculiar client reached behind his back and pulled out two suitcases that had simply not been there a few moments ago.
‘As I’m sure you’ve already heard, you may have to deal with the Royal Guard. In addition to that, you’ll definitely be dealing with some extremely strong magic. Are you feeling up do it?’
Dusk nodded and downed the rest of his ale.
‘Okay, now, I’ll be supplying you with some…unusual equipment to deal with that.’
At this point of time, the ‘customer’ had already opened one of the two cases and produced three round black devices that seemed to be a hardened but brittle shell filled with a black-brown semi-solid sludge.
‘These are filled with the refined extract of the Magicians’ Bane plant, and will bind to any magic-producing object in seconds, in this case unicorn horns. It’s been chemically altered to prevent the use of magic, and is not removable except by another unicorn, or worse. Even then, it’ll take a series of complex spells and a fair amount of time.’ Dusk accepted the small black spheres and pocketed them for later use.
‘Next, I have these.’
Case turned the case around to show a dozen bronze daggers lined up neatly in the case, each one with a blade about a hoofspan long and a hilt of about the same length. They were expertly crafted such that their textures resembled feathers.
‘Nothing I don’t already have,’ Dusk replied, feigning boredom.
‘Wait till you actually try them out. They’re a special bronze alloy infused with the same extract as the spheres I just supplied. They can’t be magically grabbed, deflected, or handled otherwise. You’re supposed to carry and throw them in and from your wings, easy to conceal and all, but whatever goes for you. ’
Dusk decided to give it a try and was pleasantly surprised to find that the daggers easily fitted in his wings and were light and well weighted. He retracted his wings, and the knives with them.
Case’s voice gained a serious undertone as he moved on to the next issue at hand.
‘Now. About the pay. Ten thousand bits before and after the completion of the assignment.’
Wow.
Dusk was not sure whether he should try his luck or just accept the pay. It was pretty damn high by any standard already. He looked discreetly at Eye Spy for advice. The latter urged him with an inconspicuous forward motion of the head. Dusk looked his client in the eye, facial expression carefully unreadable.
‘I’ll need to know what the assignment is first. ‘
‘Ah, yes, about that. I was holding on just in case you might have changed your mind. I have your word that you can keep this a secret? It would be very…damaging for my organization if anypony else were to find out.’
Again, Dusk nodded with a level expression, but this time, his heart was pounding in his chest. Secrets could be worth a lot to the right ponies too, and he was not sure exactly how much it would take to buy his loyalty, or if he wanted to remain trustable. No, he would keep…whatever morals he still had intact. He nodded again subconsciously, as if to convince himself.
‘Good, because there’ll be a contract on your head if you do. There’s a lot at stake for us and we’ll likely only ever get one shot.’
Case’s voice dropped sharply in volume and he looked Dusk back in the eye.
‘I just want you to know, Dusk, it’s all riding on you now. You see, my organization requires you to capture and deliver to us Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic. Failure is not an option.’
Dusk felt a peculiar sensation in his gut, like watching a stunt flyer perform a nosedive, only to have things go terribly wrong at the last moment.
Dusk stumbled into the shared bunk of the Guild compound. It was a sparse, drab place. The walls were a dull white mottled with specks of dirt, the floor exposed smoothe grey concrete. along either side of the long rectangular room were four to five sets of double decked metal bunks, each with a ten-centimetre layer of sponge mattress, a stained and mottled pillow in a white case and a moderately sized sheet of the same colour on top. Dusk’s was a plain unwrinkled sheet that was perfect except for the signs of age, his pillow propped up against the wall against it.
He had made sure to stash the valuable equipment in his locker before this, but still felt vulnerable. He had not even a rough measure of how patriotic his colleagues in the Guild were, and what they might subsequently might do to him if they found out about his new task.
Trying not to think too much about the situation and hoping to avoid being interrogated by his bunkmates, he decided that to sleep immediately was the best option. Carefully, he lifted the sheet covering his bed and folded it twice, then hoisted his hind legs onto the bed after the rest of him. He shut his eyes immediately and expected sleep to follow soon afterwards, but tonight, it proved to be more elusive than ever.
He kept thinking back to the impossible assignment that had been bestowed upon him, the implications of helping Case’s organization, likely a group of revolutionists. He thought most of all about the consequences; not for him if he failed, but for the rest of Equestria if—when he completed his task. The Elements of Harmony had protected Equestria from impending doom twice, thrice to those who were generous. He had heard that they only possessed their awesome power when together, and he did not want to test that theory......
But no, I’m honour bound now, and I’ll have a very serious contract on my head if I don’t deliver.
Dusk tossed and turned, checked the clock at the far end of the bunk (it had been an hour since he got back), went to the toilet, checked the clock again, and crawled back into the bed. It was the dead of night when fatigue finally took hold of his mind and his body, forcing him into an unrestful sleep.
Before we begin, I really regret the tacky title for the fic, but what's done at 2 in the morning is done. And one more thing is this chapter is really draggy but half-necessary for context of the further chapters.
Chapter 3: Plans
Dusk woke up late the next morning, with a headache gnawing at his brain stem. Not one to give in, he pulled himself forcefully out of bed, nearly falling over from the sudden change in position. The bunk was already empty, and the hustle of the compound proceeding with their mid-morning tasks without him could be gleaned through the door-less rectangular entrance. He shrugged and tidied his bed, as per usual. The familiar routine and a subsequently splash of cold water helped to ease his slight giddiness, pushing it back into a corner of his consciousness but not completely erasing it.
He continued his mindless routine of getting kitted with the gear in his locker and getting breakfast, while his mind wandered to more important matters.
What’s my game plan? Where do I even start?
He thought back to his old days in the Royal Guard, tried to recall how he the missions always started. There was always a briefing, outlining the local conditions, mission parameters and availability of support, basically any and all known or otherwise necessary intelligence. So far, the only one that he could determine was the availability of support, which was none. At all.
Afterwards would be a trip to the armory to pick up the necessary gear for the mission. What would he need? It usually consisted of surveillance equipment, weapons, stealth gear, rations, survival equipment, depending on necessity.
That was more or less it. Except that he was absolutely on his own this time. While it allowed for a greater amount of freedom in terms of operation limits, it was also a lot more perilous, not to mention planning was a tedious thing.
Well, better get to work.
The rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon were spent gathering intel, whether it was a tattered file in the Guild’s records or simply rumours and experiences from his more knowledgeable and reliable colleagues.
The Guild’s data collection had yielded satisfying and welcome news. Ponyville was basically a small town in the countryside, surrounded by vast tracts of farmland, primary forest and uninhabited rolling green hills. It had a population of a hundred and fifty to two hundred, but possessed a surprising amount of modern amenities for a town that size. The major industry was agriculture which, together with the related industries, contributed up to twenty percent of the jobs in Ponyville. Furthermore, it was almost three hours’ flight time away from Canterlot, meaning that it was unlikely that the Royal Guard would be able to respond to any alerts that got around to them in the first place.
Given its recent attention in the country’s news, however, it was gaining a reputation as a secluded, rustic and pleasant area for holiday goers. This had not affected the town in any way yet, but Dusk decided that he wanted to complete his assignment before Ponyville had the chance to become a high-profile zone.
From the looks of the background information, as well as the town planning documents, surveillance in Ponyville was going to be easy. Structures there hardly reached three stories, with the town hall, library, a large food storage facility and a boutique being almost the sole exception to the rule. This, combined with the ample spacing given to the buildings of the town, all but ensured a clear view from almost any possible viewpoint.
Overall, it was a town in which surveillance and survival would be easy, there was almost no law enforcement, and where escaping, hiding or calling for help were not options for his quarry. The cat was already theoretically in the bag.
Unfortunately, firsthand information told a very different story. Word of mouth garnered more specific and more depressing results as compared to background information. Apparently there were two very important and very lethal sociological hazards to operating in Ponyville. Firstly, in a small, tightly-knit community like Ponyville, everypony knew everypony else. One would have to blend in or risk having his or her cover blown by widespread suspicion and rumours. In this aspect, the slow growth of Ponyville into a larger or more urban setting proved to be more of a curse than a blessing.
Secondly, there was Pinkie Pie. Apparently, she was the cause of the dismally low success rate of contracts in Ponyville, despite there having been only a few. Or maybe that was the reason for the low number of contracts? Either way, it had taken Dusk quite a while to find somepony who had finished their jail term already.
What he heard was not good. Apparently, no amount of stealth would be able to prevent her sixth sense from sniffing out a newcomer in town. No amount of stealth at all. It always started with the eerie suspicion that somepony was watching you, only to find nopony there or else everypony around you. The feeling would stay for a while until operatives lost their concentration and did something stupid to get caught, or they would walk into any structure first, only to be pulled into a welcome party which brought them under the convenient suspicion of the resident Element of Magic. From there on it was a simple matter of being overrun by the townsfolk and subdued until the Royal Guard arrived. The most disturbing account was from a young member of the guild.
We had just stepped into town, when I got the feeling that somepony was watching me. It was in the early evening and there were still a fair number of the townsfolk about, so I told myself ‘Of course somepony’s watching’.
Me and my mates, we decide to grab a bite, walk into this gaudy pink pastry shop and the next moment… it’s like someone shot a cannon blank at us, just filled with streamers and confetti. Knocked off my four feet, I was. I thought we had been discovered so I got up an’ pulled my dagger out, but it was just… her! That pink one! Beamin’ like the sun and making funny faces in the reflection of my blade. Then I remembered the Guards don’t work in Ponyville and that no one would be crazy enough to activate a cannon in a structure, so I sheathe it. Told her she had scared me bad and apologized. I had thought that was the end of it.
But then she tells us she threw a party for us because she’d never saw us before and that means we didn’t know anypony here because she knows everypony and she means everypo—I’m getting carried away, aren’t I? Anyway, me and my mates try to decline, but she pulls this real cute pout. Ah, what can I say, I fell for it hook line and sinker.
So the party continues, and it’s good and all, but the next moment that purple one, the Element of Magic? Yeah, she notices us, all shifty lookin’ and all, and she sneaks off to look in our carriage. Next thing I know, me and my mates are pinned down by this here bunch of townsfolk, three of them, those two elements of loyalty and honesty and this real huge guy, red coat, orange mane… it was terrible, it was.
That jail term took me a heck of a long time to clear… good thing she showed showed up every now and then. Pinkie Pie, I mean. Either she’s got some nerve, or else she’s just plain nuts.
Chilling. Simply Chilling.
From what he could tell, there were two options, social stealth and conventional stealth. The former would involve blending into the townsfolk and becoming of no societal interest whatsoever. It might involve deep cover, a fake identity and documents, a disguise; it might even involve getting to know some of the townsfolk.
No. Not after what happened the last time.
There was a brief stab of pain as the memory of his last experience in deep cover yielded flashed briefly through his mind. Social stealth was a last-ditch alternative. He would have an identity ready, but otherwise, he would keep to the shadows rather than hide in plain sight.
Now that intelligence was all settled, there was only the armoury and logistics left.
The armoury was about empty when Dusk finally finished listing the necessary gear and supplies for the mission. He had no problem being able to transport it all on foot, being trained to do so as a soldier after all. The only problem was, Cloudsdale was still a long, long way from Ponyville, too long to reach on foot within a reasonable timeframe. Other means of transport would attract too much suspicion. He would deal with all of that later.
After he had secured his package, he had to find a way of getting her — it — yes it, to his customers’ chosen site. He needed a way to bang out if things went awry, or alternatively, if he had succeeded and needed to make a getaway. That would likely be under fire and being pursued by half of the law enforcement in Equestria.
Seeing as there was no way to achieve success by overpowering the Guards, and that he was hoping to avoid a jail term or having his head sliced off his upper torso with a guillotine, getting away from them quickly would be the most suitable solution. He would have to travel light, which would solve his problems of transport, anyway.
His daggers would suit the role of light weaponry just fine. They were lethal at short range and useable at a reasonable range when thrown (yes, he could throw them out of his wings). He was quite sure that he could bat away any magical attacks with two full wings of overlapping knives, but was worried about conventional ranged weapons. He would not have the luxury of the protective and nearly impenetrable composite diamond weave armour that the guild provided for the usual Black Contracts. Arrows were faster and trickier to deflect. Repeating the feat with bolts fired from even the weakest crossbows would be near impossible. Muskets were definitely out of the question. The only remotely viable way was to be even faster, unprotected and vulnerable to attack. So be it.
That brought the total to some surveillance equipment and survival gear, and weapons that he could carry on his person. It would be light enough for him to glide, but not fly, to somewhere near Ponyville. From there it would be a one-way trip, no going back until the task was complete. He would leave as soon as he could, probably some time tomorrow morning.
As Dusk climbed back into the bed that he had seemingly just vacated and fell to sleep straight away, one last thought flashed across his mind.
This is it. It’s time.
Meanwhile, in a small cottage on the edge of the Hollow Shades Settlement, nestled in the gloomy woods, Brain Case knelt in front of a magical glass ball which radiated a deep, angry red light that cast sinister shadows over the room. The ball itself was transparent, and held a single maelstrom of chaotic red essence, which brightened towards the core to an eye-watering shade of crimson-white brilliance.
Brain Case was stooped low in front of the orb, which was sitting atop a cluttered writing table. He was careful to respectfully avert his eyes from it as he spoke.
‘Master.’
‘Yes, my loyal follower?’ The voice that spoke was high and quavery, but undoubtedly masculine. The light would glow brighter and recede with the sound of the voice, following some indiscernible pattern that seemed to nag at the edge of one’s consciousness, but was frustratingly indiscernible.
‘Everything is going according to plan. I have found and hired the one you spoke of. Indeed, there is a spark of chaos within him. Perhaps enough to bend him to our will…’
‘Yes. And with every passing day, his own mind grows more confused and weary. Soon all our plans will come to completion.’
‘Is there anything else that I should accomplish in addition to our current plans, master?’
The orb shrank as if in thought, then pulsed again.
For now, there is nothing else.’
‘Very well. I will be attending to my tasks, then.’
‘Yes…’ Again the light showed a telltale sign of the intelligence behind it pondering, then added, ‘If we fail again, there will be no further chances for a long, long, time. Do be careful.’
‘Yes, master.’
Brain Case left the room with a faint smile on his lips, closing the door gently behind him. As he carried on with the planning and execution of his master’s plans, he reflected on the long line of events that had brought him here. Long ago, so long, in fact, that time had formed an impenetrable mist that obscured further memory.
Brain Case had been a regular pony. All he could remember was that he had someone close then, probably friends, perhaps even kin. His earliest memories were of walking through a forest, but where he did not know. Maybe here, maybe in the Everfree, or even elsewhere. He only knew it was a long, long time ago. He remembered walking hurriedly through the forest when he heard a strange snarling noise, something between a hiss and a the screech of an alarmed chicken. He paused, looked around, continued warily. Something serpentine and rather large flitted through the bushes. The silhouette stopped Case in his tracks. He paused and backed away, thinking to leave the way he had came. He turned around, only to see a pair of blood red eyes staring back at him. He tried to back away, but it seemed that the cockatrice’s abilities had already taken effect. So cold, so cold…
The first surprise came when he woke up. Somehow he had never thought about whether he could think if he got turned into stone, but even now, with his mind fully functional, there was nothing he could do. Maybe… someone… would come and get him (he could not remember who). Yes, someone would notice that he was missing and come free him. He kept that thought and tried to entertain himself for the next couple of hours, musing over his fellow ponies and keeping his mind from straying to how they would get him back to normal, to how agonizingly constraining it was not to be able to move.
But help never seemed to arrive. The hours stretched into days, and soon, Case lost track of the passing of weeks and months. The progression of time was soon irrelevant to Case. It took a very, very long time, he eventually gave up on the ever slimmer hope that somepony would find him. He had consciously let go, but somewhere deep in his mind, the hope was still there, festering slowly.
He began to find more to satisfy his idle mind, began to take notice of the smallest of details in his surroundings, and observed the natural world around him. He began to recognize it for being so much more than he thought, and observed, formed theories, observed some more. For the first few days, or maybe years (he seemed to remember seasons passing), it was enough, but a pony’s mind has an insatiable appetite for stimulus, much like how any living being needed oxygen to survive. The amount of information in the environment was simply not enough to sustain Case’s mind. Quite soon, after a long, long while, he started to notice strange thoughts at the edge of his consciousness. Soon, the strange thoughts took control, formed the activity that occupied his waking hours (if they could indeed be called that). But Case didn’t mind. They were always so interesting, more interesting than what was visible from his stony physical prison. The thoughts became more frequent, more erratic and unrelated. But he didn’t mind.
Then the day came. A cockatrice prowling the woods looked in his direction, and glanced at him from the wrong angle. Immediately Case broke out of his bonds, shirking of a layer of stone that hadn’t cracked yet. He grabbed the foul creature and snapped its neck, then threw its lifeless form into the bushes. He couldn’t wait to get back to town. There was… someone… whom he wanted to see very much. Along the way, the strange thoughts still kept vying for his attention. He pushed them aside and shuddered in fear.
Upon journeying back to civilization, however, he was shocked to discover that all of the ponies he knew, every single one save the princesses, were dead and gone, of an era that was long past. It was enough to push him over the edge. The strange thoughts came rushing back and everything else was shut out. That was when he met his master. The master had summoned him from the depths of madness itself, speaking to his deranged mind on a frequency that was mutually understandable. He knew what it was like. The madness, the pain and unreasoning ecstasy of one’s own deranged mind. The feeling of being trapped in stone in particular was also mutually understandable. The world had not been kind to them, it seemed. The world would pay. It would come under the curse of chaos for what it had done to them as a whole. Very soon, Case was helping his master to meet their ends, helping and being helped by the master’s other recruits from all walks of insanity. They had tried to free the master before, thinking that he was powerful enough to hold his own against the world afterwards. At first it seemed that is was indeed so, but in the end, even he was too complacent. They could not afford to fail again.
Case snapped his mind out of his reverie, and focused on his task. He had to check on the other hideouts all over Equestria, make sure that preparations were made and his brethren were ready. They had lost a lot of their number the last time, and arrangements had to be made so that they would not lose any more, or the plan would not be able to succeed, and the Agents would be no more.
Dusk sat on the edge of the cloud plateau that housed the Guild, looking over the vast expanse of beautiful untouched Equestrian landscape, which differentiated itself into grasslands, forests , marshes and so on with varied shades of green. Sometimes, there would be patches or swathes of discolouration where towns and railroads were located, or even the abrupt change in environment, such as the large snow-capped mountain in the centre of the picturesque view, out of the sides of which protruded the mountain-city of Canterlot.
Dusk would occasionally check his equipment and tighten the straps securing them to his person before continuing to gaze at the beautiful scenery below him, the seeming serenity of which beheld a seething, vibrant mass of life and activity. His attention once again faltered as Eye Spy rushed towards the edge of the plateau, skidded, and almost fell of the edge in his hastle. He would have gone plummeting down below if Dusk hadn’t reached out a hoof to catch him and shove him back to safety. The former let out a sigh of relief, then handed a few documents to Dusk.
‘Here’s the fake identity you requested. You are a researcher , studying biodiversity in the Everfree Forest. Here’s your fake Cutie Mark, personal details and documents and "research material".’
Eye Spy paused and put a hoof to his mouth, letting his voice drone in thought before he spoke again.
‘Now are you sure that you can handle this? It might be advisable to ask for a companion and share the loot. After all, there’s plenty for everypony…’
‘No.’
‘Oh. That’s…well…’ Eye Spy drew a sharp breath between his teeth to produce a sharp ‘sssshhhhhssk’. The theatrics were quite unnecessary, but they showed his unease nonetheless. In the end, he simply reached out a hoof, which Dusk shook in a somewhat awkward manner. ‘Good luck. You’ll need it.’
Dusk nodded, then launched himself off from his perch and angled his wings to veer sharply off the left, his flight path aligned with the Everfree Forest.
The cool breeze filtered through Dusk’s mane like a torrent of icy water, shaking it loose and flinging it about behind his head. The biting chill helped to soothe his slightly frayed nerves, and allowed his body to do the thinking for him while his mind wandered far and wide.
…This is the first time I’ve ever kidnapped anypony, isn’t it?
Dusk sighed and shook his head in disappointment. If he didn't have any idea of what depths he would sink to now, he really had no way of knowing what he might become in the future. His half-hearted loyalty to both his own dying sense of righteousness and to his new career was tearing him apart slowly but very potently. In an effort to stop himself from thinking too much, he tried to fill the time up with more contracts, worsening the problem, and sinking deeper into a moral cesspool. Yet again he tried to push the thoughts out of his mind, closing his eyes and shaking his head violently from side to side. He forced his mind to focus on the flying, to feel the wind in his mane again and be calm, but it no longer felt like the comfortingly familiar embrace that is was only a short while ago. In fact, it only served to more effectively chill him to the core.
After what seemed like an eternity of unhealthy and uncomfortable self-questioning, Dusk finally glimpse the Ponyville Municipal Complex (or simply ‘Town Hall’ to most) as a speck of light yellow topped with a maroon teardrop in the centre of a sea of concrete-and-wood houses on the horizon. Ponyville was in sight. Judging from his distance from the town and his current height, he should be able to land directly in the Everfree in a location of his choosing. Perfect.
However, he was laden with gear and his maneuverability was consequentially at a minimum, making a landing in heavily forested areas all but impossible. He’d also try to avoid water bodies as far as possible. He didn’t think that he could swim or navigate a bog when he couldn’t even fly. Scanning over the terrain, he spotted a small break in the dense dark green mass of foliage. From it protruded a few pieces of weathered slate-grey stone, rising in the form of broken pillars and semi-collapsed ceilings and floors, the renmants of some once-grand and majestic castle, now left abandoned and largely forgotten to the rest of the world.
Dusk circled a few times overhead, surveying the area. There was a central structure, surrounded by about four to five watchtowers in various stages of disrepair. The structure itself was about the size of a fairly large field, not including the towers. It consisted of a large courtyard, and a roofed chamber of about the same size. There looked like there was once more to it, but if there were any extensions to the structure in the past, they were now piles of indistinguishable rubble.
The single occupying feature of the courtyard was a lone purple pedestal. It was about three inches thick and circular at its base, adorned with angular lines of lighter-shaded lilac grooves. On the slab was a pyramidal structure, which was cut off where it would have tapered to a point to accommodate yet another another circular slab of the same size as the first. Next came a peculiar cylinder that branched out into six separate arms, all of which ended in bowl-like scoops meant to hold…something… The cylinder itself was adorned with a moss-covered stone ball.
By the time he had finished studying the object in detail, Dusk found that he was already in the courtyard, circling about three metres above the ground. Surprised by this, he landed, dropped his gear and set off to explore the rest of the ruins, choosing to ignore the creeping feeling of unease. The doorway at the end of the courtyard led into a slightly more enclosed room of about the same size, but longer in terms of dimensions, more distinctly rectangular. The door was on one of the shorter sides of the rectangle. It was enclosed on all sides by five metre walls. In addition, carved into the two walls adjacent to the entrance were several large, ornate arches that started about half a metre off the floor and curved gracefully to a peak at about the same distance from the ceiling. They lined the walls one after another and allowed the sunlight to shine in semi-ovular shapes that dispersed light all over the grey room, and served to give it a rather airy feel. At the extreme end was a circular area raised to about thirty centimetres off the rest of the ground. It was circumscribed by a few layers of long, flat stairs. The platform, if it could be referred to as such, had a circular groove carved into the centre. He exited the strange corridor of sorts and picked up his equipment from the courtyard, then walked outside. The ruins made him feel uneasy, in the sense that it created an eerie feeling that tugged his consciousness and brought his pulse rate up imperceptibly…besides, there was nowhere secure or stable, with all the suspended structures looking ready to give way, and it was far enough away from Ponyville to present an inconvenience anyway.
Dusk consulted the map that he had in the side pocket of his baggage, and decided to head along the path indicated and then into the forest when it curved right, such that he would be next to a river, the same one that ran along the edge of Ponyville and originated from the magical wellsprings underneath Canterlot. He decided that he would travel along it from there and see if there was anywhere suitable to set up his ‘base’.
The next few hours passed in a blur of wild greenery and the occasional glimpse of one of the Everfree’s inhabitants. The short walk had helped to clear his head, which was muddled by the morning’s events. The combination of the compost-tinged air and, which was complemented later on in his walk by the sound of the river gurgling happily over a shallow river bed or flowing by in tens of thousands of gallons in its wider portions.
Lost in his thoughts, he did not stop walking until he could see the telltale signs of civilization in the form of rough stone chimneys which released wispy trails of wood smoke into the air. Dusk surveyed his immediate surroundings, and found that if he had walked another two hundred metres or so, he would have been right across the river from Ponyville. He backtracked for about another half a kilometre and found a small hole in the thick growth of trees that would offer enough space to set up a small structure, yet would be able to conceal his hideout from any townsfolk which might come by this way.
It took about fourty-five more minutes to get set up, and it was about one to two in afternoon when Dusk forced himself to sit down and plan for what he would do next. He laid out all the facts in front of him. First of all, despite all the detailed town plans, he still needed to have a look for himself, and to track down the package’s location of residence. In that case, he would have to do a fly-by and maybe even sneak around on the streets peeking into random houses before he could start to plan for anything. A quick trip through the woods with a pair of high-powered binoculars was enough to confirm that there was no chance of doing that just yet. The townsfolk were still up and about in the skies or on the streets. He was just about to head back when…wait…isn’t that her?!
There was a unicorn chatting with an earth pony outside a small hut a short while away, but the latter wasn’t important right now. The unicorn herself was a young mare. Her coat was lavender and her darker violet mane was streaked with maroon and lilac, cut short and styled such that it was almost horizontal at the edge, much like her tail. On her…flank was a similarly maroon six-sided star, underlaid with a smaller white one that was rotated such that its point were between those of the first. This strange design was surrounded by five other smaller white ones, though lacking the addition of an underlaid shape.
Yes, that’s her all right…
Dusk peered intently through his binoculars.
‘…so you should just tell her if you don’t want to, Fluttershy!’
‘Oh, I don’t know, it’s just…’
Twilight’s gaze was set intently on Fluttershy, when she noticed two bright pinpricks in the distance glimmering in the sun. She paid less attention to her friend as her eyes narrowed in concentration as she strained to ascertain the accuracy of her observation. Indeed, across the small creek and somewhere in the mass of vegetation that was the Everfree, there were a pair of small, glinting lights that were hard to notice but stood out starkly from their dimly lit surroundings. ‘Wait, Fluttershy, do you see that?’ She directed her friend’s curious gaze to the spot where she was staring.
‘Um, what are we looking at?’
‘There! In the forest, to the right of that willow…’ The lights suddenly winked out of existence.
‘I’m sorry, Twilight, I can’t really see anything…’
‘Yeah, never mind. It’s probably just a trick of the light,’ she replied, not sounding fully convinced by her own words.
Dusk heaved a sigh of relief before he stifled the noise abruptly.
He had been watching the mare and her friend when the package had started to stare at him. She had seemed to motion for her companion to look. Dusk had been slightly confused at first, and peered at them over the edge of his binoculars. That was when he noticed that the lenses were throwing little disks of light into the bush directly in front of him. He swore loudly, and thrust his hooves, together with their lethally reflective contents down into the underbrush. He held his breath and his heart pounded and he held his breath until he was sure that the two mares had lost interest in him. That was a very close call. He would have to be more careful from now on.
It was because of that which Dusk later decided that he would do a detailed scan of his immediate surroundings in order to make sure that he was truly alone. His camp was more or less deserted for about a kilometre around, being rivers or undeveloped grassy slopes, or the Everfree itself. The sole exception was a mysterious hut occupied by a lone zebra on the outskirts of the radius surrounding his camp. He was reaffirmed that it was probably secure enough for his needs, but threw an extra layer of camouflage netting over his tent just to be sure.
Back to the drawing board. It was already clear from his short encounter that whatever he was going to do would have to take place in the dead of night and away from watchful eyes. He would probably need to keep his false identity close at hand just in case. Well, nothing to do now but wait till night fell. Dusk sat back and watched the river flowing along from Ponyville.
Ever so slowly, the bright afternoon sunlight seemed to decrease in intensity, then completely give way to the burning shades of sepia that accompanied sundown. Pretty soon, though, even that gave way to the cool serenity of the night. Its soothing, lulling touch reached out to the townsfolk from the silver moonlight and gentle evening breeze. The town slowly drifted off into sleep. It was about the middle of the night when Dusk finally made his move.
He was garbed in full black coverings to blend in with the starry night sky, and carried almost nothing but his weapons in his wings. He took off from the river banks, and felt the freedom of flight fill him with elation. The day’s stress ebbed slowly out of his mind as he felt the rush of the wind on his face. He did a few loops and other tricks to ease off a bit of the tension, enjoying the empty darkness, which seemed to be all his for now. Then he plotted a course for Ponyville.
He decided to fly high to avoid unwanted attention, and got a pretty good view of the town. It seemed that a few new buildings had been added to the outskirts of the settlement, but it was otherwise much like the layouts had indicated. Now where would they house a student of the princess herself? Probably somewhere in the town hall, the most important building in the town...A cursory inspection revealed that it was only a large hall, and housed only a few small and currently deserted offices. Well bummer.
He was out of ideas as to where the princess’ student could possibly be. The options were too numerous, and it was not going to be possible to search every single house…wait…why in the world would someone be up at this ungodly hour?
Light, in stark contrast to the deep shadows cast by the other structures, was emanating from one of the windows of the tree-building that served as a library to the town. Dusk decided that since his task was going to be impossibly long anyway, it wouldn't hurt to take a look inside, just out of interest.
He silently glided down onto a nearby roof so that he was almost level with the window, then he raised his binoculars to his eyes and tried to see inside. The light flickered constantly, as if pushing and shoving against the darkness of the night. Indeed, the warm yellow light was being thrown against the inside of the structure by a small wax candle. Unfortunately, the light was not strong enough for Dusk to see what was going on inside the building. He couldn't get any closer without the risk of being spotted, unless…
He flew back up into the air, and landed next to the tree, being careful to avoid the windows and other openings of the living structure. Then, slowly, painstakingly, he crept up to the window from which light the light was shining the strongest. He might not be able to take a look, but he might be able to hear something. Dusk pricked up his ears and tried his best to listen for any sound.
What’s that noise? Words? ‘…take a…Celestia…’—wait what? He tried to edge a little closer to the window, climbing partially into a small bush right outside it. ‘…today I learned that…shouldn’t…against their will…’ All this didn’t make any sense to Dusk, so he ignored it. The next line, however, did. ‘…faithful student, Twi…t sp…kle.’ He had to resist the urge to stick his head up and look through the window. He couldn’t believe his luck.
Dusk and sat huddled in the pathetically small bush, lost in his thoughts. It was only when the lights went out that he was brought back into the world. There were still murmurings of voices from the library, but they ceased soon enough. Dusk finally thought it safe, and allowed a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then flew up to one of the second-story windows and looked through, hoping that he wasn’t tempting fate with a reckless decision. It paid off in the end. There, nestled in a bed behind the window pane, less than half a metre from him, was Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Harmony, and personal student to Princess Celestia.
YYYEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!
Dusk sped back off to the Everfree, ignoring his fatigue and fuelled by his ecstasy. He would have a good nights’ rest to celebrate his good fortune before waking early the next morning to continue work. There was still a lot to do, after all.
He woke up the next morning to the chirping of birds in the trees overhead. Dusk was up within seconds, and stuck his head cautiously out of his temporary shelter. On ascertaining that there was nopony around, he snuck up to the river and stuck his head in, drank deeply with his eyes closed for several seconds, then retreated back into the brush to plan again.
Now that he finally thought about it, he really had no idea as to how he had intended to capture his target. He had thought that when it came down to it, it was just a simple two-second task of slapping that magical compound on her horn and a chloroform-soaked handkerchief over her mouth, then…somehow move her to a safe area sometime during the dead of night. Now that he had actually gotten back into the field and in touch with reality, he realized that she was surrounded by a constant net of other ponies, which in their own way were as effective a deterrent as any guard.
Furthermore, he had no way of monitoring her daily activities, and thus had no way of knowing when she was going to be vulnerable or alone…more surveillance needed to be done. There was no way but to risk it with the townsfolk out and about during the day. He would stick to the forest as much as possible, but suburban reconnaissance would be a possible option too. He would probably try to plant a few microphones in the town, and try to take a look at some documents, maybe a calendar or a personal planner or something, if just to get an inkling of her idle moments.
He would spend most of the nights doing surveillance and most of the days planning and skimming through audio recordings, making plans. Those were his intentions for now, and they would change according to necessity. But for today, at least, his day was empty. Dusk shrugged, grabbed his binoculars and camouflage and headed for the woods around Ponyville. Not an idle moment for him.
Dusk was hidden about halfway up a tree, prostrate on one of its branches and covered in drooping camouflage netting, looking like just another large clump of moss on the thick vegetation that lined the river bank. He was peering through the high-powered binoculars and plugged in to the long-range microphone, both of which he had become so well-acquainted with during the past few days. He watched as Twilight Sparkle stopped to talk to…somepony who was out of sight due to a grey-and-yellow blur that ended in an overturned vendor’s cart and a very confused Pegasus. Idiot.
That one had been botching up his operations for the past few days. She was always swirling around in his line of sight, causing him to misidentify those crucial ponies that Twilight Sparkle met often. She had also sabotaged a fair number of the audio recordings that he had collected by causing loud crashing noises or inciting angry shouts of ‘Derpy!’, and making any conversation cease abruptly or become drowned in the cacophany. In the end, he had to resort to observing day and night to obtain enough information.
What little he was able to do during the day was to observe and train himself to identify some of the townsfolk whom she seemed to associate with often. So far, other than the other five Elements, he had only been able to identify a young purple dragon and a silver-gray maned sand-coloured earth pony who looked like she was well along in terms of years and experience. From what skills he had in reading lips, he could glean that she was the mayor. Another pony was a middle-aged mare whose coat was a deep purple-red like wine, and a mane with various shades of pink.
Over the course of the past few nights, he had also resorted to sneaking into the Element of Magic’s place of residence. There he had quietly and systematically turned any and all of her documents inside out, trying to find some schedule or timetable that would allow him to monitor her movements and plan for a moment to nab her. At first he had found something labeled as a ‘Default Schedule’, which provided a rough estimate of timings, activities, locations and even margins of error. He had tried to rely on this schedule, but apparently Ms Sparkle was very accurate in labeling it a default schedule, and often made changes on the fly to adapt to her daily activity.
He had started to look for more sources, such as her calendar, and combined the results with varying, but only marginally better success. He was just about to start learning from his quarry and planning on the go, when he uncovered her personal diary. At first, he was a little hesitant. It felt to him like something shameful, a further and greater violation into sacred ground, above and beyond what he had thus far attempted. It felt to him like planting cameras in the mares’ room… But eventually, like everything else so far, he got over it. It would be just another small detail in a whole list of crimes for survival. Failure was, after all, not an option. Somepony else’s privacy was less important to him than it was to them.
Still, it had improved the situation drastically. Over a surprisingly short period of time, Dusk found that he was able to identify key figures which interacted with Twilight Sparkle often, and even predict, with a reasonable accuracy, when Twilight would meet them based on the events in her daily life and those recorded in her diary. Soon, he was testing himself and his newfound ability, performing test in his ability to predict Twilight’s upcoming day. The span of time that could be predicted grew from hours to days to a full week or so. But Twilight Sparkle was always busy.
Thus far, no opportunity had yet arisen for him to make his move, and so he waited and watched patiently, learning more. He also took the opportunity to satisfy some minor curiosity about a certain cerulean blue speedster in charge of the weather in Ponyville. It didn’t take very long for him to ascertain that cousin Rainbow was holding out fine, with many friends, a stable job and a decent place to live. A small concern satisfied in a world full of endless problems was a greater consolation than Dusk had realized it would be.
Grimacing with no small measure of frustration, he continued to watch Twilight while balancing his gun-microphone. He was so lost in though that he failed to notice the grey-blonde blur corkscrewing into the sky, only to nosedive sharply and ram his tree with a solid ‘whump’. The impact threw Dusk up into the air as the shock whipped his branch upwards, leaving him suspended for a moment above the river. Oh no…
Dusk fought the twin reflexes to spread his wings and save himself from a watery plummet and to swear at the top of his voice, as he and his gear (thankfully made for rough and tough) plummeted into the river below. He was still wrapped in his camouflage netting, and was fairly sure that nopony other than that cross-eyed Pegasus could have seen him. Even if he wasn’t covered in netting, there was still his uniform and body paint to see through, and Derpy wasn’t exactly the smartest pony around. He barely managed to catch a breath before entering the shockingly cold river. Thankfully, it was still deep enough such that his fall didn’t hurt, and there was a good half metre or so of water to hide him. He unhurriedly grabbed a few stalks of hollow-stemmed water spinach and stuck one end in his mouth while using his hoof to support the other end and raise it above the water. Then he made sure that he was still wrapped in his netting and let the river’s reasonably strong current carry him downstream and safely towards his camp.
Screw you, Derpy...The river soon got deeper and the current stronger, so much so that it necessitated Dusk's action of climbing onto the nearby bank to prevent himself from being swept farther along and perhaps being pulled under. It seems, thought Dusk as he pulled his soggy, wet form out of the river, that there is still a lot to learn and do.
Dusk had, more than once, made comparisons between his current task and trying to walk through the Everfree at night. You would stumble often on a collection of roots, small bushes and animal burrows, occasionally hit your head on a low hanging branch or have it smothered by a suspended clump of moss. And if you were exceptionally unlucky, one of the resident creatures of the Everfree would decide to come after you, and you would have to run away full-tilt, sometimes straight into a tree, or something worse.
That was what his task could be likened to. A collection of obstacles and fated misfortunes, little problems which created from their commonplace occurrences problems that could halt Dusk in his tracks. It had more than once reduced him to literally groping around in the dark, at an utter loss as to how to carry on. But through all the trials and tribulations, he got to know the forest a little better each day. He could tell the plants apart from each other, and how one related to the other and held the whole bunch together in a strange totality. And he knew which tree he wanted. He also knew that the vegetation was just too dense for him to force his way through to it. He had to find a break in the foliage to be able to claim his prize.
And he was almost certain that his lucky break was coming soon. He had gotten a chance to read Twilight’s schedule for the week, and found that she had arranged to settle some paperwork for the mayor, something to do with a number of re-locations to Ponyville. She had also included several predictions, none of which were very cheery. The first was that the task would take up an evening and the following morning till midday, starting sometime Wednesday evening, in two days. The second was that she was ‘highly unexpectant that the large amount of time-intensive secretary work would yield any satisfaction’. Despite her somewhat gloom-and-doom predictions, Dusk was still acutely aware of her obsessive-compulsive disposition towards her tasks, and could make a tried and tested prediction of his own that she would stay up till the dead of night trying to finish up as much as possible. It would be the perfect time for him to finally make his move. The stars had finally aligned.
Dusk, however, was still trying to make up his mind. This was, from his experience so far, a rare occurrence and by far the most likely to lead to success. Needless to say, an opportunity like this wasn’t likely to come very often, and every day that Dusk spent monitoring the situation brought him another day closer to being detected. It wasn't just a likelihood, it was an eventuality. On the other hand, he wanted to ease his own fears by gathering more information, and being more well-informed. Good things, after all, came to those who wait. At least, that was what he told himself. There existed, at a level of secrecy that he himself could not breach, the truth that he had yet to come to terms with his task, with the idea of using another living being for the purpose of his survival, the antithesis of morality which his actions would represent. Sure, up till now it amounted to simply stalking someone, albeit very well, very professionally, completely, and very, very disturbingly, but that was it. Plenty of people got stalked, all the time. Heck, celebrities were stalked all the time.
But this…this brought it up to another level, from an action that the society considered frowned upon and forgivable to something that was utterly despicable and which it aimed to eradicate fully. The inner turmoil manifested itself in his sub consciousness as a vague and impassable obstacle, undoing his logical reasoning and strategic planning from the bottom up.
True to his ‘usual’ habits, he had kept himself too busy in the past few weeks or so to even think clearly, with most of his actions determined as much by well-honed principles and instincts as by on-the-fly planning and spontaneous adaptations to the somewhat erratic behaviour of his subject of observation. He hadn’t had time to ponder on his task for a long, long while, and he would have liked to keep it that way, had the current circumstances not necessitated the involvement of his higher level functions in the current circumstances.
Dusk was essentially brain dead for the next day and or so, struggling with a morality he was not sure he had or should have…which created some very risky situations. It started in the morning, as he did his usual surveillance of Ponyville from the safety of the forest, this time in a small bush that was growing small dark purple berries. He had just happened to look in the direction of that small hut, occupied by a lone butter-coloured Pegasus female. He recognized her as one of the Elements, and thought that he might as well track her.
She was walking on the dirt road on the way to town, and stopped to greet the large beet-red stallion working on moving carts of apples in from surrounding orchards. Dusk couldn’t help but notice that both their cheeks reddened as she continued on her way, and smirked in amusement. That was when it happened.
He received a sharp kick in the back of the head, and swiveled around in alarm, a hoof reaching behind to nurse the spot where he had been struck agressively, though the kick was quite light. Standing on his back behind him was a very cross-looking snow-white bunny, tapping its oversized right foot on his back and crossing its arms. Currently, it kicked him again, right in the snout. Dusk, annoyed by the small gesture of pointlessly ineffective and misplaced loyalty, spread his wings, with their full complement of very sharp weapons, and was about to fillet the annoying little ball of fluff, who currently stared in wide-eyed astonishment.
Then his morality took hold. Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little piece of timberwolf kindling like him without needing to kill. He grabbed the little monster in firmly in his hooves, being careful not to crush its forepaws, and flung it in an arc aimed at the river, which was not far in front of him. The little bunny let out a high-pitched and barely audible squeal as it flew like a well-aimed snowball toward the river, with its long ears trailing comically behind it and causing it to spin in midair. Dusk sniggered maliciously as the little animal landed in the river with a soft plop. He heard a rustling and turned to look behind once more, expecting to see another small woodland creature ready to assault him. He didn’t know how wrong he was. At first, he struggled to make out the large, hulking figure, silhouetted against what sunlight filtered in through the forest canopy, but he had suspicions, none of which were good.
No, it can’t be. I must be seeing things…
Unfortunately, a low and rather menacing growl confirmed his predictions. Dusk spent the rest of the morning playing a exceedingly dangerous game of hide-and-seek with a very angry bear, which, for the later part of their ‘game’, carried furious and rather bossy little white rabbit on its head.
It seemed to a tired and bedraggled Dusk that after a few long, tense and exhausting hours, the blasted carnivore and its little vermin charge had finally disappeared, having lost interest or simply given up after having directed their anger somewhere. As he foraged through the undergrowth for his gear, abandoned where they were when he fled or dropped while he was being chased around, he promised himself that the next time he saw that thing, he would just snap its neck without hesitation. He didn’t exactly find his gear in the bushes. Not completely anyway. The binoculars were crushed and missing several parts which had been stomped into oblivion by the bear. His directional microphone was in a similarly irreparable state. His camouflage netting was torn in several locations…which kinda made it look more like a carpet of nettles, but that was besides the point.
That was it. His entire operation was screwed now. There would be no way to carry on surveillance like this. Any more time spent here would only lead to a higher chance of detection. And he had no one else to blame but himself, not even the damn rabbit, or that damn mare. Only himself.
His anger, simmering over from the harrowing morning’s unfortunate and honestly coincidental events, opened a whole new window to himself that he never saw before. It had started when he had looked into Twilight Sparkle’s library. Sure, it had been a lucky break, but in reality it shouldn’t have been worth it. It had been sheer stupidity, tempting fate with his unnecessary curiosity. His weakness, his self-indulgence, had been the root of his problems for his past few hours. He had just been looking for an excuse to watch the damn mare, nothing more.
It was fair to say that he had his chance to fix his screw-ups too. All he had to do was kill a little white rabbit. And he wasn’t even competent enough to do that, not strong enough to overcome the least bit of worthless sentimentality. It didn’t matter that the bear might have come after him anyway. It was still part of his failure. It wouldn’t have been his fault anymore. He would just have been a victim of circumstance.
This morning was all the proof he needed that he needed to be more ruthless with himself than ever. It had also forced his course of action. There would be no more waiting from now on. It was time to do something, and he knew exactly where, when and how to do it. Tomorrow, sometime late in the night, he would have to capture Twilight Sparkle, and though he didn't consciously acknowledge, redeem himself. Somehow.
Twilight had resumed her noonday vigil of hurried trotting around the library, magically levitating books and personal items from her surroundings, hardly sparing each individual object a sidewise glance before shoving them, sometimes in her rush, with more force than necessary, into their allotted spaces. Books floated up daintily off the wooden flooring and shuffled themselves in a self-sorting spell of her own invention, until they formed a neat, perfectly alphabetically arranged column. A vase of flowers emptied itself into the kitchen sink before filling itself up in the running tap amid a stack of soapy porcelain dishes, catching the light of a sunbeam originating from the nearby open window. Twilight wouldn’t often have been this flustered, but her evening cleanup sessions would be overwritten by the Mayor’s request to process paperwork. The only solution was to take her usually well-paced schedule and try to squeeze more in.
Spike, hardworking as he was, tried to continue his job regardless of the working conditions, sorting out Twilight’s loose ends and paying attention to the little details of the room while she took care of things at large. Ever so often, she would lose control of a few books, or forget that she was supposed to sweep the floor and not the ceiling. Sometimes he just provided an additional claw to pull open drawers or cabinet doors, or to slot books into the existing stacks, guiding them with a well-practiced accuracy into their various spaces, as they levitated by as if on conveyor belts. All of that while keeping out of the way of the massive amount of objects whizzing past.
Spike currently yelled and went prone on the floor as a stubby holder chock full of scissors and pen knives tipped, over and its contents were promptly lost in Twilight’s whirlwind of telekinetic magic, racing around her room without her attention. He yanked a large stainless steel kitchen pot from the fray and diving underneath it, with only his tail poking out and the front end lifted slightly to provide him with a line of sight. ‘Twilight!’ he yelled, trying to be heard when Twilight was shutting everything else out. ‘Not now, Spike! Can’t you see I’m busy?’ Spike, used to this by now, sighed and was about to offer a rebuttal when Twilight continued to chide him. ‘I already told you, if you want to take a nap, you’re free to go ahead. Now please,’ she stepped forward with her eyes closed and teeth bared in concentration, Spike cringing when an uncovered razor blade shot within inches of her head, ‘I need to concentrate!’ Sighing again, he crawled slowly and painfully with the pot on his back to the notice board in the corner, the pot emanating dull metallic pings whenever it was struck by any of the miscellaneous projectiles. A particularly wet and heavy washcloth swept by, taking the pot with it, and Spike dove under a nearby coffee table (also wood), which was mercifully empty. He turned it sideways to face the oncoming tide and continued to inch his way to the wall.
Three soft raps on the heavy oakwood door somehow made its way through the cacophony that was modified daily afternoon cleanup routine. Twilight stopped short and stared at the door, all the objects held in place, much to Spike’s relief. Then the translucent purple aura around her horn faded. The magic held for a moment, before relinquishing its grip on the other objects in the room. They landed with an assortment of clatters, bangs and squelches, sometimes breaking with a sharp clink. Spike pulled himself out of the rubble, then promptly lost his balance and fell over, a large and particularly stiff cushion impaled on his slick green spines tipping him upside down. He spotted the set of sharp objects and a roll of duct tape which had fallen nearby, grabbed both sets of items and stuck them together in a single bundle before yanking a cupboard door open and tossing it in, throwing the door shut crossly afterwards.
Twilight scowled at him, then gently swung the front door open to reveal Fluttershy, currently stooped over and conversing…or at least, having anything as close to a conversation as possible, with Angel. "What? Angel, slow down! You know I can’t understand morse code when it's that fast! What do you mean that’s my problem? Oh, Angel just repeat it would you? To Twilight? Just once, please? Twilight"’ she turned to her friend, flustered and somewhat disheveled, her mood palpable, before continuing. "I need your help." Twilight rubbed a hoof over the back of her head, her puzzlement pertaining to the queer circumstances before her eyes. "Sure, what do you need?"
Fluttershy motioned to her pet. "He’s been trying to tell me something, quite urgently, but I don’t understand morse code. Not that well, anyway. If I remember correctly, you do, right?" Her tone changed, becoming firmer and holding some substantially increased authority. "Angel, would you repeat whatever you said earlier to Twilight, please?" The little white rabbit responded with a grudging nod of his head and proceeded to tap his large right foot on the ground, with a varying order of short and long pauses in between. This sequence was sometimes punctuated with an "carry on" or "repeat that please?" from Twilight. Eventually Angel stopped tapping, and Twilight placed a hoof on her chin, her gaze glazing over in deep thought. "This is either quite disturbing, or I’m over-reacting as usual."
"What did he say, Twilight?" Fluttershy had calmed down and Spike had appeared in the doorway by now, cushion still on his head. "Well…Angel says that there was somepony watching the town from the Everfree. I usually wouldn’t have been too worried, except that I had a hunch I saw something there too, earlier this week, I think. Remember?" Fluttershy nodded meekly in response. "There’s just one more detail, which I’m not sure may be relevant," she continued. All three other parties in the conversation nodded and stared in wide-eyed expectation. "Fluttershy, on both occurrences…he was watching you." The group stopped in awkward silence, Fluttershy’s eyes only growing wider, while Twilight continued to mull over the information. Spike rolled his eyes, muttered something, and headed back into the library, where he started sorting through the mess and trying to isolate any other sharp objects or flammable chemicals, among other hazards.
"Well," she continued after another moment, "I’m fa-a-airly sure it’s nothing more than a stalker." Fluttershy started turning her head wildly around in alarm, then asked, almost inaudibly, "A stalker? What’s that? It sounds…dangerous…" Twilight giggled. "Well, most of the time, they’re not dangerous. They’re just over-enthusiastic fancolts…most of the time. The worst they can do is violate your privacy. And I wouldn’t worry about that…from what Angel told me, he and somepony named Honeysuckle gave him quite a bad scare. But they lost him in the end." She placed a reassuring hoof on her friend’s shoulder, as the latter straightened up slightly and brushed her coat off, averting her gaze in slight embarrassment. Fluttershy’s frown still stayed on her brow, though. "Well…" she started, "I’m still a little worried by the sound of that, to be completely honest with you."
Twilight was about to try and dissuade her worrying friend yet again, before considering the validity of her claims regarding her right of insecurity. ‘"Now that you mention it, you do live alone at the edge of the woods, out of earshot of anypony else." She shuddered, and then went back to thinking. After a moment, she perked up, pointing towards the ceiling, and exclaimed loudly in the usual overstated fashion. "That’s it!" Spike turned to Fluttershy, and behind Twilight’s back, traced tiny circles at his temple, rolling his eyes yet again. Fluttershy offered an almost unnoticeable lifting and falling of her shoulders in return, her version of a shrug. Twilight grabbed Fluttershy by both shoulders and shook her back and forth, beaming at the latter. At Fluttershy and Angel’s protests, and at Spike’s attempts at restraint she relinquished her grip, while Fluttershy held herself steady on the doorframe to stop herself from swaying around.
"That’s it," Twilight repeated. "You can stay here tonight!" Fluttershy cleared her throat, "Thank you for the offer, Twilight, really, but I wouldn’t want to bother you any more than I have—". "Oh, it’s no trouble, really! I’m going to be out of the house for most of tonight, anyway, so you can help me look after Spike in exchange for your lodging!" The Element of Kindness drew a few small circles on the floor with her forehoof. "Well…now that you put it that way…" Twilight bounded up to her in Pinkie-esque hops. "Well? Do we have a deal?" Fluttershy deliberated before asking, "can Angel stay too?" "Well, why not?" "Deal."
Derpy chose this moment to smash through a window on the opposite side of the library, careening towards the two other ponies. Spike dove out of the way and cursed loudly before biting his tongue. Twilight hastily teleported herself, Fluttershy and Angel into the kitchen with a magenta flash of light. They appeared just in time to see Derpy trip over the doorframe and faceplant into the ground outside, flipping herself upside down and landing painfully on her back. Twilight stood eyeing the scene for several moments, deliberating as to who should receive the first scolding. ‘SPIIIIIKE!’ Twilight yelled.
Dusk eyed Ponyville from a distance, unaided by his now-destroyed visual aids for what was almost the first time. It was about ten-thirty in the evening. The picturesque, idyllic mass of bright, gaudy pastel coloured structures, and its positive, happy inhabitants had succumbed to the night, whose dark sky was, tonight, tinted with a few shades of maroon and purple. It seemed to covered and the town, blanket it, calm and subdue it. A few lonely streetlights and household lamps, few and far between, offered a feeble resistance to the great emptiness, their dim and sometimes flickering yellow bulbs casting little fields of anaemic paleness on the surroundings. An ever-larger group of gently-shaded lilac clouds, bloated and heavy with moisture, gathered over the settlement, appearing to all the world like a heard of gentle ethereal megafauna. Soon, though, they would let loose their fury over the town, their cold hatred eating them up in the process. Already, strong winds, thick with uncondensed moisture and thoroughly scented with it, swirled about the night air like windigoes on the prowl. The leaves around the tree that Dusk was perched in rustled in response, like an angry swarm of insects guarding a nest. Beneath them, their dead, withered counterparts rustled quietly back, whispering to them.
Dusk, preoccupied, glanced at the foreboding scene for a while, before his gaze reaches further, past the town and the night, into the even murkier, more frightening depths of the future and eternity. Maybe it was the mood of the evening, maybe it was just the emotional result of the afternoon, but Dusk was starting to feel less sure of his course of action right then. In fact, he felt like he didn’t have any choice, that the decision had been forced upon him…which it had, in a way, though he kept holding it against himself that it had been his responsibility to know what he was getting into from the beginning. The day had been long and rather disappointing, with Dusk having no choice but to watch the sun climb and fall from the sky in an agonizingly slow apex, every idle moment causing him to berate himself on his failure yet again.
Currently he simply slumped against the trunk of his chosen tree, a gnarled, old specimen, not bothering to go prone on a branch or even adopt a cat-like perch that he would have been more comfortable with. He just leaned against the main body of his arboreal resting spot, half-lidded eyes weary and almost drooping, had his discipline not kept him awake. He wasn’t even sure why, after the events of the morning, he still allowed himself any leeway, but he didn’t even bother with camouflage. Perhaps a little sleep would help him to feel better? He rummaged through left pocket of his cloak, rifling through the rest of the gear cramped into it. The gear which he had not brought with him was buried burned or chucked away into the river to be swept down the current. There would be no time for anything else, only a mad chase, a prolonged game of cat and mouse after this. From the pocket’s jumble of contents, he drew an inconspicuous, small, matte black wristwatch, composed of little more than a tough nylon strap and waterproof housing, out of which a small metallic spike could be seen jutting through a hole, sunken into the hardened metal disk of the base. It had an alarm function that was currently set to an hour, after which it would administer a sharp but harmless prick. He had been taught that this made it more favourable as an alarm than anything that produced noise. Dusk eyed the small timepiece, noting that it was indeed only a quarter to eleven, still early by tonight’s standard, and prepared himself to make another decision. Perhaps a little sleep would help his frayed nerves. Perhaps…
He activated the alarm and shut his eyes.
It started out as a soft pitter patter, which Dusk’s subconscious mind ignoring it. A single droplet miraculously found its way through the myriad canopy of leaves to splatter itself on Dusk’s eyelid. The former guard turned to lie on his right side instead of facing upwards, somewhat squirming uncharacteristically in annoyance, but otherwise, he ignored that also. It was only when the rain and the winds picked up, screaming their vengeance to the world like ponies gone mad, did he finally take note. The gale drove the teardrops of water to a higher speed, and Dusk was assaulted by a stinging shower of freezing cold.
He woke up quite abruptly, starting and nearly falling off his tree. He checked the watch around his wrist, and noted that he was due to wake up in a few minutes anyway. No matter, then. Shoving the watch into his pocket and donning his heavy cloak, the hood of which he pulled hastily over his head, he set off for the small town amid the pouring rain and howling winds and roaring torrents of air and airborne water. The ground was starting to turn to mud where it wasn’t impermeable, but Dusk kept his pace until the edge of the town, on the other side of the bridge from Ponyville, the Everfree to his back, its new familiarity granting him confidence. He spared it a parting glance, and turned to the town. Taking a deep breath and readying himself for anything that might come, he tried one last time to look within himself. This time, he found a solid core of fierce determination, prepared for the long and probably restless, difficult road ahead. There would be no going back from now, no retreat into the shadows or the forest or even to the Guild. This was it. He stepped from the safety of the cover of darkness, and into the gloomy yellow twilight of a streetlight-lit Ponyville. No doubt it was a source of comfort, a familiar home and safe retreat for many, but to him, it was full of unspoken horrors that could only be faced and overcome, never avoided. And he was ready.
The dull rumble of thunder high overhead accompanied his footfalls, silent in the downpour save for the pitter patters as he treaded through wet grass and half-inch high swampy puddles. Gradually, the ground grew a little more solid, the water slipping off the gentle cross-sectional curvature of a well-worn road, rolling down in little droplets and undersized rivulets to the sides, where the soil was more porous and absorbent. Then, abruptly, the ground underneath Dusk’s feet was replaced by cobblestone streets.
Dusk kept the hood down and his head low, heading briskly through the empty streets, hurrying and weaving through the lurid glow of streetlights. He bumped into a wall and grunted as he bounced off. Once or twice, he almost slipped and fell. His well-honed dexterity seemed to have left him as he trudged through the night towards what seemed like a gigantic, looming structure ahead of him. As he got a little closer to it, passing an alley about two blocks away, something pounced out of the darkness of the alley. A dull glint amid the rapidly advancing shadow was enough to jolt Dusk into action, and he shot almost explosively to his right, scooting around to face the threat…allowing his attacker’s blade to trace a line across his shoulder. It was barely more than a shallow scratch, sudden and unexpected enough that Dusk didn’t even have time to flinch. But it had quite a profound after-effect on Dusk, as he put a hoof to very minor injury, and was genuinely surprised as it came away with a few smatters of blood. There was no way some petty thief could have gotten the better of him. It had surprised him enough, in fact, that his attacker had enough time to press the tip of the blade gently on the collar of his cloak.
“Sorry about that, buddy,” his attacker, now revealed to be a caramel-coated male, grizzled in appearance. He was composed of heavy-set, angular jaw, navy-blue eyes, and wild, unkempt mane and beard of jet-black hair. He was dressed in a short-sleeved checkered shirt, with the buttons missing, and reeked of the sour odour of unwash. “Take my word for it that it’s nothing personal,” he continued, “but I really need those bits. Don't make the problem worse for you and I.” Dusk shrugged, facial features kept impassively in a slight scowl. Finally, he shrugged. “Alright. Can I get my wallet?” The other pony shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to tell me where it is.” Dusk sighed melodramatically. “It’s inside my cloak, on your right, bottom pocket. Black leather, don’t miss it, ‘cause I have a knife in there.” The tramp nodded gratefully, then lowered his head, holding Dusk’s cloak open with his nose. Not the most graceful of postures, Dusk reflected, as he watched with mild disdain. Finally, the hobo got tired of holding his knife above his head, and straightened up, intending to amend his posture. Dusk chose the moment to shove the tramp with both front hooves. As his assailant went down, Dusk grabbed his opponent’s knife hand, the other pony’s right, in his own left, then spun into his grip, driving the elbow of the opposite hoof under his opponent’s ribcage, winding him. The hobo ended up on the ground, amid puddles of muddy rainwater, while Dusk stood stock-still and untouched, knife in his right hoof. What happened next somehow broke through his stony exterior, and saddened Dusk greatly, though it should have been expected, at any rate. The hobo scooted away on his back, then tried to get up, slipping on the wet stone flooring, before Dusk laid a spare hoof on his retreating foot. Something about the way Dusk reacted caused the would-be thief to stop and glance back.
Silhouetted against street and porchlights in the entrance of a dark alley on a rainy night, he wasn’t the most comforting of figures, especially due to his attire and current possession of the only single visible weapon. Dusk laid the knife on the floor, then gave it a sharp push so that it skittered against the rough floor, to stop a few centimetres from the hobo’s own hoof. “I’m not here for you tonight,” Dusk said, then, after a short pause, added, “Remember this. And I hope you never need to use that again," indicating the knife with a nod of his head. The hobo’s slack-jawed surprise was quickly replaced by hurried nodding. He recognized the fact that he had been shown mercy. Dusk turned, trotting purposefully into the night, before stopping abruptly. He sighed, then, in a fit of sudden compulsion, reached into the bottom-most pocket of the right side of his cloak and pulled out his wallet, tossing it to hobo’s lap before continuing on his way.
“Thanks for offering to keep me company, Derpy.” Even though the slate-gray Pegasus wasn’t going to be much help with the paperwork, it was still comforting to have her around in place of late night radio programmes. Twilight was glad that there was at least somepony else here in the municipality office. It would have been a moderately-sized room, had the place not been divided into corridors and units by padded blue cubical walls. There was only a single light, suspended a metre from the ceiling above Twilight’s head, that was on, and it would have been a night fraught with paranoia and fear had there not been somepony else here. “No problem, Twilight,” came a slurred and incoherent reply from the top of the four-metre-odd bare ceiling, where Derpy would almost have been invisible, save for her messy blonde mane, crossed amber eyes and bubble Cutie Mark. Twilight swore she could bounce on a ceiling almost as well as Pinkie. The rain continued to pound away outside, muffled, inconstant, and as good as a world away to Twilight. Derpy flitted into a shadowy alcove of the dome structure, executing a lazy midair somersault before shooting towards the ground in a recklessly fast and most likely destructive nosedive. Twilight didn’t bother looking up as a series of crashes and thuds, followed by airborne coffee mugs, knick-knacks and stationary, which were thrown up in a small radius. An office chair, the same dark blue as the cubical walls, gyrated on its axis and rolled slowly out of the cubicle after a few seconds. A stapler thudded business-end first into Twilight’s report, binding it to the table and inciting a small sigh. The silence held for several seconds before a small click, very much out of place, reverberated through the empty room.
Dusk hastily squatted in front of the door, studying the lock. It looked to be a regular deadbolt lock, nothing that he couldn’t handle. Slipping two flat, hoof-sized lockpicks out of his pockets, he set to work on the tumblers, trying not to rattle the lock too much. He had no idea what was on the other side of this door, after all. He found the combination after a minute or so, and slid the deadbolt back into the door as gently as possible, which still didn’t stop is from emitting a faint click upon retraction. Dusk winced, but didn’t think much more of it. He crouched over on all fours, hugging the ground. With a decisive twist of the doorknob, he swung the door open as quietly and smoothly as possible to prevent it from creaking. It was pneumatic, and promptly swung back to close itself.
He found himself in a cubicle-congested office room. A lit office room. That was all it took to convince him to find a place to hide. Still keeping his head as low as possible just in case someone was poking their head above the perfectly level line of cubical walls, he crawled over to the unit opposite the entrance, the closest one from him. Taking cover behind the padded wall, he stole a glimpse at the ceiling. The light currently on was a double-tubed white fluorescent lamp of about a metre long, hanging from the ceiling by means of two thin steel cables at either end. It was positioned at the dead centre of the office. The single light meant that he would have to be extremely careful of casting shadows, but it also meant that an unwary opponent might do the same.
He peered into the corrider on the left of his current cubicle, and found it to be obstructed by a single office chair, still slowly rotating on the spot. Oh damn…His first thought was that Twilight Sparkle had somehow detected him and bolted. Oh damnit. He couldn’t afford to let her get away. Where was she?
At that moment, a hesitant, stuttering female voice echoed through the office. “He-hello? Is anypony there?”
Twilight peeked above the row of cubicles just in time to see the office door swing close. The first reasonings that her puzzled mind formed was that she wasn’t the one who had opened the door. The second was that it couldn’t have been Derpy. A growing sensation of dread, gnawing at her core, manifested itself as the realization dawned. Perhaps the howling wind had somehow found purchase on the door and torn it open. No, that’s ridiculous. The door itself is already indoors. Besides…the door was locked…The dread continued to build as Twilight considered this. She felt tense and stiff when she forced herself to her feet, off the chair, and peered into the unit behind her, where Derpy sat upright, crossed eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration and ears pricked up. She was listening intently. Twilight exhaled slightly. At least she wouldn’t be alone. Turning back face the entrance yet again, she cleared her throat softly, and tried to project her voice into the rest of the room. “He-hello? Is anypony there?”
Derpy’s eyes snapped open and stuck her head out of her own cubicle, glancing left and right down the corridor before moving to Twilight. Upon withdrawing her head back into cover, she tossed her head over her shoulder and gave Twilight a stern look. Twilight jumped slightly at the expression, but not because she feared retaliation, but because Derpy’s orange-brown eyes were uncharacteristically focused on her. “Quiet!” Derpy hissed at Twilight, in perfect control of her voice, despite the prevailing undertone of urgency. “Don’t let him know we’re here. I’m going to need all the time we can get. Now,” she put her hooves on firmly Twilight’s shoulders. “I need you to do something for me. Do I have your cooperation?” Twilight nodded hastily, spooked even more by the sudden change in Derpy’s character. She glanced around nervously behind her friend, towards the ceiling. “Okay. Good. I need you to stay here.” Twilight shook her head in alarm, almost hysterical at this point. She was confused now, on top of everything else, and she hated being confused. “He needs you alive, so you’ll be safe. Whatever you do, just stay here!” Her instructions concluded, Derpy slinked out of the cubicle, prowling on all fours and continuing to glance cautiously around.
Twilight understood that she was supposed to be the bait, and seated herself obediently back on her chair. She was worried, even panicked, she admitted, yet something in Derpy’s voice had convinced her to stay still. She toyed with the stapler on her desk, trying to pry it off with one hoof while gripping the armrest restlessly with the other. She was trying to find something, anything that would keep her from losing it completely. No, not now. I need to think. What had Derpy meant when she said that ‘he’ needed her alive? Who was ‘he’? She tried to recall all her enemies, those who were bent against her cause. It couldn’t be any of them, not now anyway. Nightmare Moon was, for want of a better word, reconciled to the world, and Discord was, well, a statue. Other than that, who in Equestria world would…She pressed a hoof to her temple, massaging it as her frayed nerves blossomed into a pounding headache. When she opened her eyes again, there was a hooded figure blocking the exit to her cubicle.
The hood hid is face, but he was a brown-coated individual, either a Pegasus or an earth pony, judging from the lack of horn. His mouth, the only part of his face visible to her, was a thin line, slightly downcast at the edges. “I’m going to ask you for your cooperation, Miss Sparkle. Don’t want to make this any harder for you than it is.” He reached into his cloak and drew out an opaque black sphere. It was slightly larger than a ping pong ball, and its surface was rough-hewn and uneven. It was also accompanied by a bitter odour, strong but very faint, which Twilight recognized from her visits to Zecora’s. Magicians’ Bane. “Alright,” she replied, her tone resigned. She took a furtive step forward before her eyes lit up with a scowl, and her horn flared translucent lilac. She swept her head from left to right casting a powerful telekinetic wave which rippled and distorted the air in front of her. Intending to follow up to stun her would-be hostage taker, she took a decisive step forward, lowering her head and aiming for the opposite cubicle, where she expected him to land in a heap. To her considerable surprise and disdain, she saw something glimmer in the purple wave, shortly followed by the attacker stepping through, the coverts of his wings, holding knives, held in front of him like a swimmer taking a dive. He parted his wings and reared a hoof up to hurl the black capsule towards her. There was another small explosion as Derpy rocketed past from somewhere behind her and to her right, tackling the mysterious pony and sending both of them crashing into some other part of the office. Twilight rushed after them, horn already aglow as she prepared for the worst.
“Uhh…” Dusk took hold of the obstruction pinning him down and tipped it over on its side, springing up as best as he could. He saw his opponent pulling her back left out from under an overturned work desk. She gave a violent shake of the head and went into a stance, wings flared, head and shoulders low to the ground, back hooves digging into the ground. Then she brought her wings down forcefully to her sides so that they were flat and level, pulling a plain steel blade from a concealed housing under her right wing. It was somewhere in between a dagger and a sword, curved elegantly and kept secured to the leading edge of the wing.
He brandished his own weapons, angling his wings so that the dozen or so deadly points were directed towards his opponent. Her eyes narrowed as he pulled his hood off. “Nice to see you again, Dusk.” The sound of his name caused him to take a few involuntary steps backwards. “…How do you know my name?” The Pegasus grimaced in reply.
Then she launched herself at him. Dusk crossed his blades protectively in front of himself and let her land two good strikes before pulling his wings apart and knocking her guard wide. Then he aimed a hoof at her neck. She was quick to recover, though, and grabbed his wrist with her free hoof, twisting it painfully, while she tried to bring her sword arm up to attack him. It would have been quicker to hit him with the hilt of the blade, and she realized her mistake halfway through. Dusk, with the help of his wings, rolled to counter the twist, breaking free from her grip. They backed off again, each circling slowly clockwise, the grey mare with her weapon held horizontally in front of her.
Dusk feinted right, then rolled to left, coming up facing her broad side and letting fly a blade from either wing. Dusk’s aim was off, and the blades criss-crossed in midair. The mare spun towards him, lowering her profile and snapping her wings shut against her sides, but wasn’t fast enough to prevent from having one of the weapons slice across her upper ‘arm’. She grunted in pain, then launched herself yet again at him.
Her opponent apparently thought that she would retreat after an injury, no matter how slight. She intended to take full advantage of that. Though he had brought his guard up quickly enough to catch her first blow, she could see his eyes widen in surprise for a fleeting moment. It was a light blow, anyway, intended only to keep him busy for a moment, she followed up with a few more similar strikes, slicing movements that got progressively more powerful, knocking Dusk back and forth, before finally pirouetting and bringing the blade down hard, knocking a few of his weapons from their grip and stumbling him. She leapt back, drawing her frontal half up to avoid a swipe from Dusk. It was a panicky, defensive movement, obviously triggered by her series of attacks and their final result, and she let a small smile play across her lips.
Dusk had more or less recovered when a lance of purple energy sizzled through the air, accompanied by a shriek. It charred the ground where Dusk’s hoof was a moment ago. Twilight continued the barrage, as Dusk once again crossed his wings, catching the first few bolts and even batting away a few before Twilight saw that it was hopeless. Magic wouldn’t work on the attacker. Not directly, anyway. She looked again at Dusk’s hooves, before yanking out the overturned cubicle wall that he was standing on. Dusk stumbled backwards as it was whisked out, and recovered almost instantaneously from the seemingly feeble attack. It was enough for Derpy to rush in and land a few blows on his defense before hopping nimbly out of the way. Dusk was left with just a moment before the cubicle wall came flying back at him, spinning wildly and humming softly as it raced past. Dusk didn’t even have time to take to the air, instead yelling and leaping off the ground. It was barely enough for his hooves not to skirt the edges of the projectile, and he landed off balance.
Dusk realized with a flash that the two mares were not used to working in tandem, as he recovered from stumbling. Nopony had tried to attack him in that moment, as the two of them waited for the other to make the move. Eventually, he did. He saw in his peripheral vision the cubicle wall spinning in a wide but tight arc to come racing back at him again, and took to the air, divebombing Twilight. Derpy tried taking off and tackling him again in midair. Just as they would have connected, he flared his wings and did a forward roll, slowing down enough that Derpy was sent speeding into the adjacent cubicle. Snapping his wings shut again, he managed to keep most of his momentum and continued to charge at Twilight. She raised her hooves defensively over her face, as he veered up gently at the last second, reaching his hooves under him to knock her over while offering a hasty “sorry”. But it had done what it was supposed to, as Twilight lost her concentration and the cubicle wall lost its violet sheen, and fell to the ground. Its heavy weight meant that its momentum kept it skipping over the rubble-strewn ground towards them…towards Twilight. Dusk pulled up further in a tight somersault, and nosedived towards her. This time, he hooked a forehoof under each of her’s and veered off sharply to the left. The cubicle wall skidded past, coming to a messy stop against another workstation. Twilight and Dusk turned from the projectile to each other, both surprised to varying extents at his actions, and momentarily stunned into inactivity. Derpy, on the other hoof, had no sympathy or questioning to spare, and took the chance to rocket at Dusk while he was preoccupied, smashing the hilt of her blade into Dusk’s temple. He crumpled and went limp on top of a disgruntled Twilight, who gasped and cringed before wriggling around, trying to free herself from the dead weight. Derpy raised a hoof to her ear, tapping it twice. The hidden radio activated at the touch. “Mountain High, this is Trojan. The pony in question has been…subdued. Request for pickup, pronto.”
Twilight continued to observe Dusk’s prostrate form as Derpy turned him over. She pressed a hoof to his neck, checking for a pulse, before stripping the daggers from his wings and removing his cloak. Twilight took a furtive step forward at this point. “I-Is he dead?” Derpy snorted and turned away, hanging the cloak on the back of a chair and rummaging through the wreckage. “I wouldn’t worry, Twilight,” she replied, voice cool, unworried, fluent. Certainly not the Derpy Twilight knew. She came back up with a coil of rope, and began subduing Dusk before continuing. “I’d take a lot more to kill him. Trust me.”