Tugging at my undead Heartstrings II: The Belle Tolls for Thee

Tugging at my Undead Heartstrings II - The Belle, it tolls for thee

Chapter 4 – A Harsh Reality

Cloakshape looked out over the boggy marsh that he and Frost Mane were currently traversing. While the pair had been assigned to the city of Trottingham, they hadn’t spent much time within the city proper. Most of their time had been spent ranging around the variety of terrain types that littered the landscape around Trottingham. This had stemmed from a purely training need. Frost Mane would one day replace Cloakshape as the Order’s scout and that meant he had to be adept at moving through nearly every environment Equestria had to offer, as each type of terrain carried its own unique challenges.

Right now, they were practicing survival skills in one of the marshes to the south of Trottingham.

“Damn bloodsuckers,” Cloakshape heard Frost Mane call out from behind him, followed a second later by a solid thump of hoof hitting flesh. He paused for a moment, turning to see Frost Mane swatting at several bugs that were buzzing around him. Several mosquitoes were currently biting Cloakshape, but he overlooked them; he had more important things to worry about than bug bites.

“Careful there, Frost. Better not let the vamponies know you are killing their relatives,” he half joked, waving a hoof to shoo away one bug that got a little too close to his eye. It was a humid day out here, and the bugs were out in force. Still, he mused to himself, this was exactly the kind of thing that they were out here to experience.

Frost Mane froze for a second before he realised that Cloakshape was joking. “That isn’t funny, Cloak,” he groused, but he stopped swatting uselessly at the bugs surrounding him.

Cloakshape took a look around himself. They were currently in the deepest part of the marsh. There was nothing but mud and bogs in every direction, but the faint outline of the city could be seen through a shimmering haze. It had just passed mid afternoon, and it was getting time to be heading back to the city and their dry lodgings. While Cloakshape was no stranger to roughing it out in the wilds, he wasn’t the kind of pony to pass up a bed when he had the option. It would be well into the afternoon and approaching dark by the time they got back anyway and it wouldn’t do to be stuck out here after nightfall.

“Alright then, let’s head back to town,” he said to Frost Mane, who brightened at the suggestion. “Let’s make it interesting through. Last one back to the road is buying the drinks tonight.” Cloakshape wasn’t as uptight as some of the others; namely Octavia. He was more than willing to allow Frost Mane to drink while on the clock, providing that the younger stallion kept it in moderation and didn’t let it affect his work.

Frost Mane gave Cloakshape a sly smile. “You’re on, old timer. Eat my mud.” A second later, both stallions broke into a fast trot. Running was impossible in the sticky mud, and they were restricted to wading through it. Sweat quickly began to trickle down both of their brows as they worked hard to pass through the dense goopy not-quite-liquid.

Cloakshape kept pace with his younger partner, but he could see Frost Mane slowly draw ahead. He considered trying to trip Frost with a telekinetic shove; it surely wouldn’t be noticed with all the activity going on already, but he dismissed the idea. He had better things to do than cheat at a meaningless contest.

A moment later, fate rewarded his restrain, as he watched Frost Mane trip over something concealed in the mud and stagger sideways before falling over entirely, disappearing below the brown surface. He reappeared instantly, coughing and spluttering. Frost Mane dragged a hoof across his eyes just in time to watch as Cloakshape waded past him, giving him a friendly nod and leaving the downed stallion in his tracks.

He got back to his hooves quickly, but for the remainder of the trip, Frost Mane couldn’t quite close the distance and Cloakshape reached the edge of the bog a good body length ahead of his partner. Exhausted from having dragged their bodies through the mud at a run, both ponies fell to the ground panting and wheezing.

Once he had his breath back, Cloakshape put a hoof on Frost Mane’s shoulder. “Good hustle, kid. Need to watch your footing though.”

Frost Mane was about to nod in agreement when a piercing scream assaulted their ears. Both stallions turned to face where the scream came from and saw that it came from down in a small valley that they had passed through to get here. The valley was tight, with shear rock walls. The scream was followed by several yells and the sound of objects clattering to the ground. Cloakshape recognised it as the sounds of a wagon being overturned. Bandits likely in search of an easy mark.

“Come on,” Cloakshape called out, getting back to his hooves, “Let’s go be heroes for a moment.” Frost Mane followed him and they both edged over to one of edges of the valley walls, taking care not to disturb any rocks that could clatter down and give away their position.

Looking down, Cloakshape confirmed what he had suspected. Four ponies and what looked like a hooded zebra were being herded into a corner by a trio of diamond dogs, while another two were carelessly searching through an overturned wagon, throwing what looked like bolts of cloth and sealed jars out onto the ground. One of the searching dogs pulled out a wooden mask of some kind and threw it hard on the ground, shattering it. Seeing that, the zebras lunged forward, only to slapped across the face by one of the guards.

“You all our slaves now,” one of the guards barked in broken Equestrian. “You work in mines, haul gems, dig tunnels.”

Cloakshape had heard enough. While his first duty of care was technically hunting down supernatural threats, he wasn’t about to sit back and watch while citizens of Equestria were harmed. There was no time to alert the formal authorities on this one. He and Frost Mane would have to deal with this themselves. Very carefully, he pulled a pair of gleaming silver daggers from two sheaths strapped to his flanks. Behind him, Frost Mane did the same, though his were still covered in rapidly drying mud.

“Not the way I wanted you to get your first taste of real combat, Frost, but I suppose we have no choice. Give them one chance to surrender, and hopefully if they are smart, they will take it. If they don’t, try to scare them off. Most Diamond Dogs are scavengers and poachers; they will run from a real fight. Top priority is to protect the civilians. Watch your back and check your spacing; not much room to move around.”

Frost Mane nodded, but he looked nervous. Cloakshape couldn’t blame him. This would be the kid’s first real fight. No amount of training could ever truly prepare him for the reality.

Slowly, the pair made their way around the edge of the valley, finding a way down that was out of sight. Holding their weapons at the ready, they both emerged into full view of the raiding party and their prisoners. One of the ponies noticed them and gasped, bringing her hooves up to her face at the sight of two armed unicorns stepping around the corner.

All five diamond dogs turned as one to stare at the new intruders; their eyes focusing on the weapons held in their magical grasp. One of them looked ready to run, but was held in place by a harsh look from his partner.

“Let them go,” Cloakshape said. His voice took on a steely edge to match his dagger. “Leave now, and we can pretend this never happened.”

The diamond dog that had spoken before laughed. “We are five while you are two. Dogs, kill them.”

‘Shame,’ Cloakshape thought. Turning to address the captive ponies, he said, “Close your eyes. Don’t look.” Turning back to Frost Mane, he added, “Remember, this one is for real.”

Frost Mane nodded once and the pair of the charged forward, weapons up and ready.

From the other side of the valley floor, the five diamond dogs followed suit. The three guards hefted crude spears while the two foragers just curled their paws into fists.

With a quick, practiced motion, Cloakshape sent a dagger flying across the space, angling it so that it would clip the hind leg of one of the armed dogs. He still hoped that the sight of blood would force them to reconsider fighting.

The dog barely slowed down at the strike. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood now beginning to stream down his leg and with a snarl he thrust his spear right at Cloakshape’s head. Cloakshape sidestepped easily; only a greenhorn would have failed to anticipate such a move, and with an internal sigh he recalled his dagger, sending it directly towards the dog’s back.

With a slick thud, the blade of the dagger penetrated the diamond dog’s back and it instantly fell to the ground. A quick glance showed that there was no question about it being dead. Cloakshape didn’t hesitate, but brought his other dagger up parry a thrust from another dog’s spear.

Dimly, he could hear one of the captive ponies screaming from the other side of the valley, but he blocked that out. He would attend to them once they were safe.

One of the foraging dogs bull rushed him, one of its forearms braced before it and Cloakshape couldn’t’ quite make it out in time. The pair tumbled to the ground, ass over head until they hit the side wall of the valley. The diamond dog had the upper position and he quickly brought both paws up with the intent of throttling Cloakshape.

Cloakshape quashed the sense of panic that always accompanied the feeling of choking. He had been in worse situations before. Calmly, he picked a simple flare spell and cast it. His horn glowed brightly for a moment before flashing once with an intense burst of light. Instantly, he felt both paws let go of his throat, followed by whimpering as the diamond dog above him covered his eyes against the burning light. The whimpering was cut off a moment later as Cloakshape’s second dagger found its home in the dog’s heart. It was a clean, surgical blow and the dog instantly fell to the side. Cloakshape didn’t like to prolong the pain of death when he had the option; quick and clean was his preferred method.

Cloakshape rolled the dogs body off of himself, pulling his dagger free as he did so. Getting back to his hooves, he looked around. Off to his left, Frost Mane was fending off attacks from the second of the spear wielding dogs, while the other two appeared to have decided attack together. Having seen their numerical advantage drop from five to three in the space of half a minute, the dogs were far more cautious than before. Cloakshape levitated both his daggers before him, keeping them between himself and the two targets in front of him.

“Give up, pony,” one of them, the one that had spoken before said. “Leave now, and we might let you live.” Cloakshape realised that he must have been the alpha male of the group and was its nominal leader. Cloakshape figured that maybe if he could force this one to back off, then the other two might break ranks and flee.

“Funny,” he replied. “I was just thinking the same thing.” Keeping his weapons up, he shifted his attention to the other brute closing in on him. “How about you? Are you willing to die for nothing?” He gestured to the two dead diamond dogs on the ground beside him.

The dog looked at the bodies for a moment before throwing its head back with a loud howl. A second later, it charged at Cloakshape, leaving the alpha behind to watch.

“Very well,” Cloakshape said, more to him self as he watched the lumbering brute close the distance between them. At the last second, Cloakshape pulled his weapons back and thrust them up. A short yelp of pain followed before it was cut off. A loud meaty thump followed as the brute’s body hit the dirt right next to the others. Its momentum caused it to skid for a few metres and it ended up crashing against the wall of the canyon. Two large wounds to its chest began to leak blood.

Now alone, the alpha dog looked up into Cloakshape’s eyes. He was afraid, and it could be seen easily. With barely any effort, Cloakshape had dispatched his foes and was now ready to make short work of him. Desperately he looked around for anything he could use to fend off this clearly superior attacker. Not finding anything, he did the only other thing he could. He ran.

“Don’t think this is the end of it, pony,” he screamed as he rushed around the corner of the canyon. “My brothers will be avenged in your blood.”

Cloakshape let him go; he had more important things to do than to hunt down a lone diamond dog. Searching for another assailant, Cloakshape found none. It seemed that they had won. “Hey, Frost Mane, you ok?” he asked, looking around for his partner. He found him on the ground, seated before the body of the last diamond dog. One of his daggers was buried up to the hilt in the dog’s chest and Cloakshape could see that Frost Mane was just staring at it, mumbling something to himself.

Cloakshape recognised the signs. This was Frost Mane’s first kill, and it was something that could never be fully prepared for. One could train all their life for it, but the reality always caught them unprepared. He walked slowly up to Frost Mane, slow and measured steps. “Frost, you alright?” he asked again.

“Why didn’t he stop?” he could hear Frost Mane muttering, now that he was closer. “I told him to surrender. Why didn’t he listen? He didn’t have to die.”

“Frost Mane!” Cloakshape said a little harder. Frost Mane looked up at his sharp words, his eyes refocusing on him. “Hold it together, kid. You may not feel it right now, but you came out the victor here. Not everyone makes it through their first field engagement. That you are still alive to tell the tale is more than some can say.”

“How do you do it?” Frost Mane asked, looking desperately at the three other dead diamond dogs over where Cloakshape came from. “How do you just put it all behind you? I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You want to know something? My first battle, I peed myself,” Cloakshape admitted. Frost Mane smiled slightly at that, but Cloakshape went on, “Of course, I’ll deny all of this if you ever mention it to anypony, but the first time I took another life, I felt that it was all I would ever be; a killer. There isn’t anything I can actually do to help you through this right now; you have to process this at your own speed, but if you ever need to talk about this, then I’m all ears. All I can promise is that the second time will be easier.”

Cloakshape picked Frost Mane’s dagger up from the ground and with the tip of his own dagger, he carved a small notch into the handle. Once he was done, he proceeded to do the same to his own weapons. Two notches were carved into one, while only one went on the other, mingling with the dozens of notches already carved into the wood. When he was done, he hoofed over Frost Mane’s dagger back to him. Frost Mane took the weapon and looked at the new mark before staring at the criss-cross of marks covering Cloakshape’s hilts.

“What’s this for?” he asked, “You want me to keep count? Like it’s some kind of contest. That’s sick.”

Cloakshape shook his head. “No, it’s not for that. You make a mark so that you never forget. You must never forget that what we do is wicked. For Equestria to live its care free life, it must have ponies like us. We are that worst of all things – the necessary evil.” He paused and indicated a very old notch near the top of his weapons, “This one was my first. She was a griffon who had taken to piracy. She preferred a duel to the death rather than submit to justice and trial. I didn’t want to kill her, but it was clear that it was going to be me or her.”

He moved up and put his hoof of Frost Mane’s shoulder again. “You heard that dog. If it hadn’t have been him, it would have been you. Try to remember that you did it in defence of others.” He motioned towards the huddling traders. Despite some time having passed, none of them had moved or even made a sound since the last surviving dog had run off.

Cloakshape turned to get a better look at the group. “Are you all ok?” he called out. “Are any of you hurt?”

One of the ponies stepped forward, putting a hoof in front of the other who were still huddling on the ground. “Stay back!” he said to Cloakshape. “That’s close enough.”

Cloakshape stopped and quickly noticed that he was still holding on to his weapons. Quickly he slid them back into their sheaths and waited. “I don’t mean you any harm. My companion and I are members of a special detachment of the royal guards.” It wasn’t a total lie, but it was hardly the truth either. “Do any of you require any form of aid?”

Slowly, the other stallion backed down a little. “We are fine,” he said, “We just got careless.”

“What are you doing out here? There are easier roads to travel just up and over the ridge.” Cloakshape said.

We were just on a trading run when we ran into the zebra over there. She said that she was looking for a friend of her fathers. Something about there being a death in the family that she didn’t know about. I don’t suppose you might have seen her? A dull yellow pegasus mare with a green mane, copper highlights? She would be fairly young, not much more than twenty.”

Cloakshape shook his head. “Sorry, can’t say I know anypony by that description. You might have better luck in town.”

“A pity,” the stallion said before he motioned for his companions to get up. They did so quite timidly but they soon got to their hooves and went over to start examining their wagon, carefully avoiding looking at the carnage around them. The zebra started to collect the shattered remains of the wooden mask; each fragment brought another jerk of pain to her face.

“Are you sure that you don’t need any help. We can be back here with some more ponies in an hour or so,” Cloakshape suggested.

“I think we can take it from here,” the stallion said, glancing at the bodies on the road. “What about you? I’d watch out. That last one looks like he is going to hold a grudge.”

“I can handle him,” Cloakshape assured the stallion.

Soon the wagon was uprighted and ready to go again. Two of the ponies had sorted out all of the goods that they were transporting. Some of the jars had cracked from rough treatment and had to be thrown away. Cloakshape figured that it was a fair trade to having to spend the rest of their lives as slaves.

Cloakshape had taken the time to build a bonfire for the bodies. Frost Mane had helped, pulling the bodies over to the pyre. They didn’t have the time to give then a proper burial, but he wasn’t just going to leave them to rot.

“Thanks for your assistance,” the lead stallion called out once they were ready to go. “You ever need a favour, just let a trading caravan know; it will filter down to us eventually.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Cloakshape said before the zebra walked up to him. She had her cloak on and the hood pulled down tight. She held out a small gold coin in her hoof.

“Please take this talisman, protector. It shows that you have acted with kindness to the people of Zebraca and will ask that any zebra return that kindness to you. Know that you have friends among my kind now.”

“Thank you,” Cloakshape said, taking the coin. For a moment when their hooves touched, Cloakshape noticed that his right hoof was glowing slightly. For a brief second, his order glyph flashed visible before it vanished when their hooves parted. He looked at to see the zebra’s eyes staring at where the mark had appeared. For a second he could have sworn that her eyes flickered a bold red as she looked at where his mark was now hidden.

“A strange magic, that.” She said calmly, passing the coin over to him before turning to head back to the caravan. Cloakshape nodded and gripped the coin in his magic, tucking it into the straps holding his weapons on.

He was just about to turn away and head back to where Frost Mane was standing. The kid had calmed down significantly since his near break down after the fight. Cloakshape was still going to keep an eye on him though. Just as he started to turn away, the zebra spoke up again.

“His coming can’t be stopped, servant of the sun. All will bow before the coming of Lord Sanguine.”

Cloakshape whirled around at that, only to see the zebra holding up a hoofful of bright purple powder. A pair of gleaming fangs protruded from her mouth. “Who are you?” he asked, bracing himself for another fight.

The only answer he got was a cruel smile from the zebra before she hurled the powder down onto the ground, covering everything in a blinding cloud of dust and smoke. Cloakshape coughed several times and lunged into the smoke, hoping to catch the zebra, but he stumbled out the other side having touched nothing.

The smoke cleared to reveal that the zebra had vanished. Nothing save for a pair of prints in the dirt marked where she had once stood. Even those just stopped as if the vampony had just teleported away.

A sudden set of hoof falls came up to stop beside Cloakshape. Frost Mane had rushed over the second he had seen the zebra throw down the powder. “What happened?” he asked. “Where did that zebra go?”

“That was no zebra,” Cloakshape said. “Come on, we need to get back to town. Whatever she was looking for, it can’t be good for us. The Princess needs to hear about this right away.”

“Yes, this is disturbing news indeed,” Princess Celestia said, listening to the report Cloakshape had just given her. “I do know of this ‘Sanguine’ you mentioned and it is nothing good. Legends say that one day a dead god will be revived and will return to plunge Equestria and all lands into an eternal harvest of blood. I thought that I had wiped all traces of such worship out many years ago, but apparently it still survives even now. This mare she mentioned could just be a cover story, but I would like you to keep an eye out for her. Your other orders remain the same however. I will investigate the old records and see if I can find anything.”

“As you will, my lord,” Cloakshape’s voice came through the glyph on her hoof. A few moments later the glyph faded as Celestia cut communication. Pressing a hoof up to her head, she sank into deep thought. To say that the news was disturbing was to put it mildly.

She had been so sure she had wiped out every last trace of information pertaining to that blasted cult. If they had survived and were searching for something, then it almost certainly explained the recent increase of Werewolf attacks. The cult used them as scouts and berserkers, front line cannon fodder.

She would have to plan her next move carefully.