Assassin of Kings and Queens

Chapter 1

Reunion

Murder. Equicide. Killing. All lovely words to describe the act of taking someone else's life. For most Assassin's, killing is part of the job description. Being an Assassin, with that lovely capital "A," means that you are a member of what equates to a secret police. If your lucky, you'd get stuck with stuff like paperwork, or being a normal member of society. If you were terribly unlucky, or better yet, skilled, you went out into the world, find villains, evildoers, and other baddies, and send them into permanent retirement. Once more, should Luck smile upon you, the baddy wouldn't have to be offed, and could just take a couple years of therapy to become a productive member of society. I'm sure you're smart enough to figure out what happens when that doesn't happen.

Of course, should one of these Killers be caught, life in prison is their best hope.

The assassin bolted upright, flinging the entangled mass of blankets away from his trembling form. Shit... The pony rubbed his aching horn, and then glanced around, verifying his surroundings were familiar. The nightstand to his right was bare, considering it had been wiped clean of any objects when the blankets had flown past. A once-lovely glass vase lay in shatters on the hardwood floor, reflecting a broken rainbow on the ground. The window behind the bed was cracked open, letting in the warm, acrid smell of industry. Deciding that everything was in order, the pony relaxed. He stretched his wings, yawning widely. His bare chest shone in the morning light.

“I’m surprised no flies have entered that black maw of yours yet.” A cyan pony was leaning against the doorframe, giggling at her little joke. She was crossing her arms, wearing a plain white undershirt (no straps) and leather shorts, showing off her---She’s asking for it. SERIOUSLY! Who wears clothes that tight! He shook his head, glad the blue pony couldn't see the image that flashed through his head.

“And I’m surprised you’re awake,” the black alicorn retorted. “Since when do you wake up before noon?”

“Maybe when someone breaks a vase in the next room?” The cyan pony shook her rainbow main, shaking off the remaining dregs of sleep.

“Good. That means you can clean it up.” At the blue pony’s outraged gasp, he grinned mischievously. “After all, that is what loyal apprentices do, is it not? Help out their aging masters?”

“I… You… URGH!” The cyan pony stalked away, trudging back with a broom and pan. The black alicorn grinned again, sweetly this time, much to the chagrin of the rainbow pony. She started sweeping, grumbling something about geezers and senility. The black pony hopped out of bed and skipped towards the door.

“Aging my hoof,” the cyan pony muttered bitterly. The black alicorn paused in the doorway.

“Oh, and Rainbow Dash?” The rainbow pony paused her sweeping, worry creeping into her face. The assassin’s horn gleamed red, and the room began to rearrange itself. The blankets untangled themselves and flew to the bed, knocking Rainbow Dash over. The nightstand righted itself, and broken glass collected together on top, rearranging into its original form. It took a matter of five seconds for the room to be completely made over, with everything in its proper place and freshly dusted. The only thing disgruntled now was Rainbow Dash, who was struggling to her feet, hand rubbing a sore spot on her head.

“I really do appreciate the help.” He turned back and proceeded down the hall, towards a welcoming shower.

Rainbow Dash groaned loudly.

“What did you have in those blankets, rocks?!”

“Yes,” was the calm reply before the black pony’s voice was drowned out by the running water.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the Great War, in which the dragon and griffon races had united against the pony kingdom of Equestria, had ended in pony victory, there had been a fragile peace between the pony and griffon kingdoms. The dragons had remained neutral throughout most of the conflict, but had eventually sided with the ponies later in the war. The black alicorn, Ferrum Latet, and a human, John Clark, had worked together to bring an end to what became known as the Second Griffon War. However, after it was revealed that Ferrum’s white alicorn brother, Nocturne Mucrone, had been controlling the new king of the griffons, John and Ferrum, together with Rainbow Dash, Alicorn Princess Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkamena Diane Pie (better known as Pinkie Pie), hunted down Nocturne and put an end to his scheme of world domination. However, in order to defeat Nocturne, John unleashed the magic hidden within him and banished the two of them from that world. In doing so, not only did he banish Nocturne, he also spread some of his own essence throughout the world, turning some of the sentient beings into what are known as anthropomorphic beings, more commonly known as “anthros,” half-human, half-animal. This event, which became universally known as the Clark Incident, led to widespread panic and chaos, much to Discord’s amusement.

In order to prevent such an occurrence (referring once again to the Griffon Wars) from happening again, Princess Celestia, under the influence of a different evil, had decreed that all male alicorns were to be banished from Equestria, under pain of death. Ferrum fled, together with his new apprentice Rainbow Dash, to the griffon kingdoms to the east, where they remained in hiding, preparing for the time when they could return home…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rainbow Dash strolled into the small room that served as both a kitchen and dining area. Ferrum was sitting at the table, arms crossed. A black leather vest sat on his chest, small glints revealing the location of some of his many hidden knives.  He was reading The Daily Press with a stick of celery in his mouth, horn glowing duly, wet hair clinging to his obsidian fur. A red stripe in his black mane glistened in the morning light. Ferrum’s arms were crossed across his chest, giving him an angry appearance.

“Any news from Equestria?”

“Mm Mm.” Ferrum shook his head, spraying water everywhere. His horn grew a shade brighter as he turned the page, and then reverted to its previous state. This had been their arrangement since they had arrived: Mornings were spent looking for any news on Equestria’s current state, and afternoons were spent training. Up till that day, there had been no news on Equestria.

“Oh, O.K…” Rainbow trudged over to the ice box, hoping glumly that her teacher hadn’t eaten all the celery. Again.

“Vait a shecongh!” Ferrum exploded upwards, spraying pieces of celery all over the table. Rainbow leaped up and hovered near the ceiling, fur standing on end.

“Don’t…Do…That… Again…” Rainbow panted, slowly recovering from the scare as she drifted down. Ferrum ignored her, swallowed what was left of the food in his mouth, and then began to read.

“Princess Celestia has called for a series of games, known only as the Celestine Games, in order to keep the peace. These games will host a series of events, in which each of the anthro races will compete. ‘Such events,’ Celestia claims, ‘will help release pent-up aggression and hopefully keep tensions lower as a result.’ The Games will be held in three weeks’ time in the town of Ponyville.”

Ferrum’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried to comprehend all the implications of this turn of events.

“Is…Is that it?” Rainbow hovered closer, looking over Ferrum’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it was a small article. It seems the newspaper here doesn’t much care for Equestria.” Ferrum looked glumly at the remnants of the celery, now spread across the room. A quick spell fused the pieces back together, which he happily took a bite out of.

“That makes sense. After all, we fought two wars with them. Buck, even Discord helped us take down…” Rainbow’s voice drifted off as she remembered who Nocturne had been to Ferrum.

“No matter,” Ferrum concluded. He walked towards the door, sliding on his leather grieves and black cloak. He opened the door and paused.

“This could be our chance to go home. I don’t plan on letting this chance go.” He walked out, the door closing behind him. Rainbow Dash looked sadly at the door then returned her gaze to the ice box.

“He really needs to stop pausing in doorways.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ferrum walked calmly through the crowded city streets, avoiding eye-contact with any passerby. He knew where he was headed, and didn’t want to be stopped. Time was of the essence. If he’s not there when I arrive, he better have a good excuse. Or a death wish. The corners of Ferrum’s mouth twitched upward, though no mirth was revealed in his steely gaze. A cowl hung low over his head, but high enough such that he could scan his surroundings. The black leather pants he wore betrayed no sound, black tail flowing behind him. Soft hooves muffled his already near-silent footfalls. A miniature version of his cutie-mark, a knife embedded in a scroll, was imprinted on his right grieve.

A familiar shadow passed overhead.

“Ferrum! Watcha up to?!” Definitely a death wish Ferrum thought glumly as he turned into a deserted side street. A gray-brown griffon floated after him, still talking.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” *dramatic gasp*

“Are you on an assignment?! Do you have to kill someone?! Can I come?! I’m sure I----*gak*.”

Ferrum firmly clutched hold of the griffon’s throat, careful to only grip hard enough to keep the griffon from talking. With his other hand he rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. Back to the griffon, he inquired,

“Ironbeak…How…Many…Bucking…Times…Do I have to tell you?” He turned slowly, frustration and anger etched in every feature. Ironbeak’s beak snapped open and close, just like a fish gasping for air.

“Don’t… Call… Me… Out… In public!” Ferrum was now face to face with the griffon, whose green eyes silently begged for release. Ferrum relented, and released Ironbeak’s throat. He turned his back on the griffon again as Ironbeak collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Time to change the subject, before I scare him to death thought Ferrum. He picked a question at random, and regretted it almost instantly.

“Isn’t your name kind of…” Ferrum waved his hand dramatically as he searched for the words he wanted. “…old fashioned?” Ferrum turned his head, observing Ironbeak’s reaction.

“My parents…Were kinda…Traditionalists…” Ironbeak panted. Good. He didn’t care. Ferrum relaxed slightly.

Ferrum turned back toward the griffon, mouth twitching upwards again. Maybe one last insult...

“You talk too much.”

“So…I’m…Told…” Ironbeak slowly got to his feet, shaking his head. Wow, THAT was the best I could come up with? Sheesh. I need more practice Ferrum thought to himself.

“So,” Ironbeak smirked slightly, clawed hand rubbing his throat, “are we going to verbally spar all day, or are you going to ask me a real question?” Ironbeak was Ferrum’s chief informant in New Griffland, and even though he was a bit talkative, he was very good at his job. Ferrum shrugged.

“What do you know about the Celestine Games?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ferrum shambled back home. What he had learned troubled him greatly. Princess Celestia was still a pony. Not that this was a bad thing, but considering how every other intelligent being in the world had gone anthro, that Celestia hadn’t was…strange, to say the least. Also, Princess Luna had gone rogue, and was engaging in guerrilla warfare with Celestia’s guards, who were also still ponies. The fact that Luna had gone anthro didn’t help clear anything up. Unless…

Ferrum’s train of thought derailed when he collided with a griffon. The griffon shoved the black pony to the ground, towering over him, clawed hands on his hips.

“Hey, boys! Looky what we have here! A pony all by his lonesome!” At this, a group of four other griffons quickly surrounded Ferrum. Ferrum relaxed. I’m being mugged. This hasn't happened in a while. Hm. Ferrum got up and dusted himself off.

“Hey, pony!” Ferrum didn't look up, and proceeded to examine his greaves.

“Hey!” The biggest griffon, a big, brown hulking specimen, grabbed the front of Ferrum’s vest.

“Is for horses,” was the calm reply. Then Ferrum went into action. He jabbed the giant of a griffon in the throat, crushing his windpipe. He wheeled around and dispatched three more with a well-placed kick as the first griffon collapsed, choking. The last griffon stood there in a state of shock, lion’s tail twitching nervously, staring dumbly at the four griffons on the ground, all in varying states of consciousness. And life.

“Hey.” The griffon’s head jerked up, coming face to face with an angry looking alicorn.

“Here’s some advice. Run.” The griffon couldn't get away fast enough, flapping up towards the relative safety of the dark clouds above.

“That was too easy…” Ferrum murmured to himself as he continued home. “and quick…” He shoved his hands in his pockets, cold despite the blazing sun. Someone set this up…But who? Ferrum arrived at his house, chills creeping down his spine. He looked around, and seeing no one on the street, proceeded into the house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ferrum’s house, even though somewhat bland, was rather big. On the right side, a set of large double oak doors led into Ferrum’s blacksmith shop, where he made a host of mechanical devices, as well as the odd weapon or two. On the left was Dash’s store, where she worked as an apothecary, mixing different healing droughts, as well as the occasional poison. Together, the two were able to afford the somewhat lavish estate. In between the two there was an apartment, which contained hundreds of rooms, most of which were designated for training and learning. Ferrum had even started a school for diplomats, which was held in the large living room. Many of his students also worked as informants, giving Ferrum information that could prove valuable. However, considering that it was the middle of June, school was out of session, so Ferrum had plenty of time to himself. However, he was in for a bigger surprise than even he bargained for.

Ferrum walked in, closing the door behind him with a near-silent thump. He paused in the entranceway, thinking to himself. A little squeak of protest caused his head to snap up. Rainbow Dash doesn't squeak he thought worriedly as he rushed to where the sound was coming from. He slid into the kitchen, careful not to make a sound.

Three griffons surrounded Dash, who was gagged and tied to a chair. Judging by the insignias on the griffons’ left arms, they were part of the King’s Royal Guard. Two male, one female. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Ferrum snuck behind the largest male, using the griffon’s considerable bulk to keep him out of sight.

“So, little pony,” The female griffon hissed into Dash’s ear, “where is the cashbox?”  Bucking THIEVES! I thought these bitches were supposed to PROTECT the people, not OPPRESS them! Dash mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Buck off, Bitch.” Swearing will do you a lot of good, I’m sure.

“Wrong answer!” The female said cheerily, then nodded towards the smaller male. He started unbuttoning his pants, smirk forming on his scarred face.  Shit, I can’t let this go any farther! Knowing he had to do something, Ferrum flicked his hands up, extending the blades that were hidden in his grieves. Then he said aloud, anger laced in his voice,

“You know two ponies live here, right?”

Ferrum then proceeded to plunge both blades into the big griffon’s back, one into his heart, one in the small of his back. The giant’s wings twitched as Ferrum wrenched his knife from the griffon’s back. The giant stood there, mouth and eyes wide open in silent shock. Ferrum kicked the body, causing it to fall on the smaller griffon, who had wheeled around only to be crushed by the bigger one. This all happened in a span of several seconds.

The female had jumped behind Rainbow, and now clutched a curved knife up to her throat. She glared menacingly at Ferrum.

“Come any closer, and I’ll slit your mare-friend’s throat.” To make a point, she pushed the dagger against Dash’s throat. Rainbow Dash gasped as a single drop of crimson blood slid down her neck.

“Now why do I need to be closer than this?” Before the griffon could respond, Ferrum threw a knife, which had been hidden in his cloak. It embedded itself in the griffon’s knife hand, which was prompted dropped. The Griffon shrieked in pain and confusion, and was cut off by as another thrown blade embedding itself in her throat. The female gargled a bit, and then collapsed in a bloody mass of fur and feathers. Ferrum stood still, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He wheeled towards Rainbow Dash.

“HOW THE BUCK DID YOU GET CAPTURED SO EASILY!” He roared.

“IT’S AS IF…” he paused, then retracted the blades back into his grieves.

“You froze up, didn't you?” he said softly. Rainbow Dash nodded sullenly, tears streaming down her face. Ferrum sighed and walked over to the dead female, brown feathers now dyed red with blood. He squatted down and wrenched the knife from her throat, releasing a new gush of blood onto the wooden floor. Getting up, he walked over to Dash as he muttered, “This’ll never wash out, I just know it.” He stood over Rainbow Dash, head cocked to the right as an artist does when he observes a block of wood, pondering how to carve it up. As he lifted the knife up in the air, fear masked Dash’s features as she wondered what Ferrum was going to do. Slice. The rope fell away from Rainbow’s quivering form, collecting in a pile around the chair. The leather gag split, allowing Dash to spit it out, which she did promptly.

“You need to stop freezing up. This keeps on-” A crash is heard from upstairs, causing both of the ponies to look up.

“Targets upstairs?” Ferrum looked back at Rainbow Dash, then averted his gaze, blushing a deep crimson. Apparently he had cut through more than the rope.

“At least twelve left. Assuming you took out the five outside.”

“Excellent. I need the exercise.” He made towards the stairs, exiting the kitchen. When Rainbow started to follow, he paused and held up a hand, back turned towards Dash.

“You,” he pointed an accusing finger at Rainbow’s chest, back still turned, “need to put something else on.” Rainbow looked down, and then hastily covered her exposed chest, blushing deeper than Ferrum had done moments ago. How could I not realize MY SHIRT WAS GONE! Dash thought to herself in shock. Sweet Celestia,  he…Rainbow shuddered at the thought, and then darted towards her room, which was in the back of the Apothecary shop, to put on a new shirt.

Ferrum proceeded up the stairs. She had a nice rack said a voice in his head.

“Shut the buck up,” muttered Ferrum. A ghostly black silhouette materialized next to Ferrum, floating up the stairs as Ferrum climbed.

“Harsh,” replied the black figure, green eyes glowing mischievously.

“We haven't spoken in four years, and that’s how you talk to me?” The shadow of a figure shook its head, crossed its arms and leaned back against an invisible wall. Ferrum paused at the top of the stairs, then wheeled towards the ghostly apparition.

He pointed a stern finger at the figure, anger written in every feature.

“We’ll discuss this after I kill the buckers who broke into my house,” Ferrum growled.

He turned and stormed through the hallway, drawing an ornate silver knife out of its sheath as he went. The figure watched Ferrum enter the first door on the right. Much screaming ensued. A body flew out of the door, crashing into the opposite wall and collapsing in a bloody heap of fur and feathers. The figure shook his head sadly, then proceeded down the stairs.

“You haven't changed at all, Ferrum.” The black figure smiled sadly before vanishing. He had things to do before Ferrum and he had a talk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ferrum limped towards the stairs. He had dispatched the thirteen thieves easily. There was a reason he had once been the Master of the Royal Guild of Assassins. However, it seemed he had gotten soft. He had tripped over one of the bodies on the way out of the room, and had twisted his ankle. Ferrum muttered to himself sourly. It is always the most dangerous directly after a victory. He had pounded that into the heads of all his students, and now HE was the one forgetting. He got to the top of the stairs, then spread his wings. He balanced on one leg, then hopped forward, gliding down the stairs, and then hovering at the bottom. He lowered himself slowly, careful to put the majority of weight on his left leg, which was unhurt. Folding his wings against the black leather of his vest, he made them virtually invisible. Ferrum then proceeded to limp into the kitchen. Seeing nobody in his immediate vicinity, he limped over to the table and plopped down into the nearest seat available. He leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

Ferrum groaned loudly.

“I’m gonna kill somepony…Again,” he muttered as he got up, wincing. He limped towards the large oak door, then stopped. He glanced at a mirror to his left and gazed at his blood-splattered coat.

“Well, somepony’s in for a surprise,” Ferrum said to himself as he turned back to the door. He opened the door, expecting one of those annoying door-to-door salesmen that so often came to his house. Directly outside was a black, ghostly figure with gleaming green eyes. It smiled gleefully once, and then vanished. Where the black figure had been stood a purple alicorn that Ferrum recognized all too well.

“Twilight,” he managed to gasp. Looks like that somepony is me.